Eh, just an idea that came to mind </3
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He's on the Resolute when he opens his eyes.
Well, that shouldn't be even remotely possible, Rex knows for a fact he died on Yavin IV.
He knows he died.
"Rex? Is everything alright?" Shaking his head, Rex is grateful he's wearing his bucket when he turns to see Ahsoka, a young Ahsoka with so much life to her, looking up at him expectantly.
"I, yes, sorry." Rex somehow wills his voice to remain steady, and Ahsoka raises her eyebrow.
"Right...so, are we still going to train with Jesse or what? I'm hoping to get at least an hour in before Master Anakin forces me to try and sleep." The padawan rolls her eyes, missing the way Rex allows himself a shaky breath as he wordlessly follows Ahsoka down hallways that he traveled in his nightmares.
"Hey, what took you guys so long?" Jesse waved when the two entered, and Ahsoka hurried her pace into the training room with a grin. "Hardcase and I are betting who can take you down first, and I plan on winning."
"In your dreams!" Hardcase laughed, shoving him goodnaturedly as some of the other men watched their banter in amusement.
"For the record, he has gotten further than you." Dogma pointed out, and smirked when Hardcase looked betrayed.
"You have to step your game up, otherwise all those delicious ration packs might be eaten." Fives laughed from where he and Echo were arm wrestling, lamenting when Echo managed to take his momentary distraction to his advantage. "Kriff."
"What was that about never losing?" Echo grinned, the expression faltering when he looked behind Fives. "Captain, are you alright?"
Every set of eyes in the room darted over to the door just as Rex's knees hit the floor, and the playful energy in the room vanishes as Ahsoka is the first to reach his side. He can hear her talking to him, but the ringing in his ears drowns over every word as small fingers probe him for injuries that aren't there, skin devoid of the scars he would come to earn later in his life. Kix is kneeling in front of him now, and Rex jerks back when the medic tries to lift his helmet off, scrambling to his feet and away from the mass of soldiers who were extremely concerned at seeing their captain acting out of the ordinary.
"Captain, talk to us." Fives approaches him with his hands raised, and Rex wants to joke about not being some scared animal, but every word he could have said just seem to get stuck in his throat as he just stares. "Please, let us help."
"I..." He sounds like he's been screaming for hours, and motions for Fives to step back as he regards the people in front of him.
"Hey, is everything alright in here?"
The universe stops as Rex turns ever so slightly to look at the other entrance to the training room, and has his blasters out and pointed before he can even blink.
"What the hell is going on?!" Jesse hissed, everyone remaining still as if the slightest movement could trigger Rex to fire. "Are you out of your mind Rex?!"
"Rex, buddy, what are you doing?" Anakin holds both of his hands up, staring back at the man who has both blasters focused directly at his head. While the Jedi might not be the best shooter, he knows when someone is aiming to kill, and more so when they're terrified of their target. The raw fear and anger spilling into the Force from Rex could probably be felt all the way to Coruscant, and Anakin can only wonder what's changed in the last hour since they had successfully completed their latest campaign.
"Stay right there." Rex nearly spits out the words to Anakin, and the Jedi doesn't move a muscle as Rex takes one step forward.
"Rex, talk to us." Ahsoka darted forward before anyone could protest, putting herself directly between Rex and Anakin. "We won't hurt you!"
"He would." The anger is gone from his voice, but his stance hasn't faltered for a moment as he readjusts his aim around her. "Move Ahsoka."
"No, I won't let you hurt Master Skywalker." She stood firm, and Rex finally looks away from Anakin down to her, and the sorrow that suddenly traveled through the Force nearly had her step back.
"Rex...what's happened to you?" Anakin doesn't flinch when Rex looks back up, just keeping his stance as calm as possible. "You can always talk to me about anything."
Rex shakes his head, and drops his arms with a strangled noise no one in the room had heard before, his guns clattering to the floor as he sinks back onto his knees. Ahsoka once again kneels in front of him, and Rex doesn't fight her as she reaches up and removes his bucket, revealing a tear-stained face heavy with loss and exhaustion.
If someone had looked at Rex earlier in the day, he would not be the same man now openly showing his sorrow in front of them, as if he'd been carrying a burden for a long time.
"Rex, talk to us." Echo kneels beside his commander, feeling dread at the way Rex looks at him with a pained expression.
"We lost everything."
The Resolute stands motionless in her post as every single clone aboard is ordered to the hangar, to be addressed by Captain Rex.
He talks to them for hours and tells them of the future, a future he had died as the last clone from the army that had once stood as millions strong. How they were all created to be one thing, a weapon to wield against the Jetti, and bring about an end to the Republic they fought for so dearly. His voice breaks when he speaks of the day they all turned against their Jetti, of how he and Ahsoka became one of the last of the surviving 501st because he had headed Fives' warning and fought against the weapons inside their heads. Rex tells them of the Empire that rose from the ashes of the day they had their free will torn from them, how clones either served and died under the Empire, or were tortured and killed by the same. He speaks of their numbers dwindling in such a short time, until finally, he was the only one left, the only one who had helped bring the Empire to its death.
Rex is staring at Anakin when he speaks of the way he was manipulated by Palpatine, the Jedi looking horrified when he learns he became a Sith that killed too many innocents to mention. Rex is staring at Ahsoka when he speaks of the Rebellion that she helped build, and is haunted when he speaks of the day she died in his arms.
Rex isn't standing by the end, his voice hoarse as he's slumped against Fives, just speaking about everything vital until he finally goes silent. He watches as Kix and the medics all but vault for the exit, and Rex can breathe in relief when he knows that the chips will be found within minutes.
Rex is left with the Jetti alone in the hangar when the men filter back to their posts, all awaiting their turn to be seen by the medics. Ahsoka is hugging him as tight as she can, feeling so horrified and lost at what they had learned, and wanted Rex to feel that he wasn't alone again. Anakin is sitting by his side, one hand on Rex's shoulder, and the other holding up his lightsaber as he stares at it, suddenly finding his weapon fit more for an executioner rather than a Knight.
"Keep it." Rex's voice is barely above a whisper, and Anakin looks at him. "You're a symbol."
"No...not with what you told me." Anakin was a monster, so blind to trust Palpatine, who was using him rather than actually caring for him.
"You have time, use it." Slowly, Rex places his hand on the hilt, and with a hum, the familiar blue blade slides out. "You are a good Jedi."
"I promise to stay that way, I promise." Anakin puts his other hand over Rex's, and for the first time since he had to watch his own brothers die so long ago, Rex feels something.
Hope.
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"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch.
"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into his annual “anti-valentines day” rant.
Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.
Directly in front of Patrick.
As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school.
Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his.
He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.”
A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted.
Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list.
Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out.
"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder.
A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.
Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it.
"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once."
Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans.
If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…
That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day.
("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"
He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts.
"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”
Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first.
“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned.
"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.
Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"
Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit.
Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute.
Not in the way he used to.
"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer."
Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy.
Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry.
He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.
Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental.
“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.
Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well.
It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful.
“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.”
“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”
There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.
Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information.
“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )
"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present. “I bet none of you even enjoy it!”
"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”
Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.
Except his team had already proven they didn’t.
Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was.
They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.
He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted.
Emphasis on ‘if.’
Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much.
So said Carol, anyway.
"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!"
Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved.
Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)
Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.
Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore.
It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction.
Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself.
(Like that had ever been a good idea.)
“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!”
Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice.
Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it.
The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit?
It wasn’t Tommy’s style.
It was Hargrove’s.
(That was its own growing issue.
The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy.
How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to.
That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.”
Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.)
“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!”
Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards.
“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!”
Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control.
All he wanted to do was go home.
Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else.
He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.
…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve.
“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”
He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul.
“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.”
The world stopped.
This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off.
(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.)
Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him.
Just as the entire cafeteria was.
The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson.
With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done.
With his so called friends, with the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything.
He was over it.
If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it.
(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.)
“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it.
He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down.
“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.
“Shut up.” He snapped.
Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.
King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up.
“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”
“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him.
“For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”
Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.
He didn’t need to. Had never needed to.
“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”
In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball.
“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”
Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet.
Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time.
Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.
Presently?
He just felt tired.
“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.
The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them.
Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway.
Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.
“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks.
They were ignored.
Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up.
“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm. “You’re not fucking better than any of us!”
Steve didn’t even look back.
"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.”
Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight.
xXx
He didn’t want to go home.
Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.
Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.
All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang.
So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year.
Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new.
Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…
He did not.
It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday.
Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech.
So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered.
Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.
At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson.
Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned.
“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.”
Steve just stared at him.
“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.”
Or any day, for the foreseeable future.
“Yeah no--I, I got that. I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.”
“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time.
Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say.
“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.
Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track.
“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.”
He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately.
“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what.
Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into.
Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both.
Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed.
“I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere.
"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"
Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!”
Then immediately;
“Actually yes, but--”
Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough.
“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right."
“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either.
Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station.
"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions.
“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!”
“Tommy did what?”
Steve was promptly ignored.
(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.)
There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.)
“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.”
Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself.
“So here I am. Apologizing.”
A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.”
“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”
“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.” Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock.
It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down.
“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.”
Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least.
Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.
“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh.
“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.
“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.”
“Yeah?”
Eddie grinned.
“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.”
“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.
That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face.
“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”
“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.”
“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!”
“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening.
Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!”
Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face.
He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen.
“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.”
Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required.
“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?”
Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous.
“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.”
“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?”
He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response.
It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.
(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things.
One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg.
Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor.
“Steve.”
Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.
The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out.
Except--
“Not right now I’m thinking.” Steve told him absently.
Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing.
Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…
“The fuck? Steve--”
Steve shushed him.
That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up.
“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.
Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted.
“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.”
“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise.
“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.
That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.
“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his.
For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk.
“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that.
“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”
Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze.
Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat.
He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back.
“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…”
One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley.
In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing.
“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?”
Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly.
“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him.
Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. )
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It's sad you haven't written that much for sunoo
𐙚 — 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 | 𝐤.𝐬𝐧
▹ PAIRING: boyfriend ! sunoo x girlfriend ! reader
▹ SUMMARY: While on a picnic date with your boyfriend in honor of your one year anniversary together, things take an unexpected turn as one simple touch leads to another...
▹ WARNINGS: TOUCH DEPRIVED SUNOO who can't help but leave marks all over your neck and thighs, fluff mixed with super messy smut, fingering + oral (f. r), handjob, protected sex (love that for them), tit and spit play, exhibitionism, mentions of food
▹ WORD COUNT: 2.5k
“You brought ice cream to our picnic date in the summer?”
“Yes... and you wrote me a love letter,” Sunoo replied frankly, the gentle park breeze blowing his wavy bangs to the side of his face slightly... “of course I appreciate the gesture, baby, but why go through all that trouble of trying to hide it from me?”
His question made a memory resurface in the back of your mind.
One from earlier this morning when you threw a pillow at his face in an attempt to sneak away with the letter undetected.
Not one of your best moments, you'll admit, but he took it lightly anyways, laughing off the confusion your strange behavior brought about...
“You weren’t supposed to come back home til tomorrow, Sunoo, and I wanted to surprise you…” your voice trailed off just as your boyfriend rested his hand at your thigh, caressing the flesh in a soothing manner…
“I wanted to make it more special,” you went on, feeling your heart flutter slightly at the way he suddenly tilted his head at you, almost as if cooing at your worried confession.
“____… what could be more special than a letter with your sweet kisses all over it?” Sunoo asked, gaze falling to your lips for a second before his eyes flicked back up, displaying his comforting smile.
“Just open it already,” you whined playfully, making your boyfriend giggle a bit at your impatience.
“Wait, I wanna guess what’s inside first!” He paused excitedly, looking to the clouds as he sat in thought…
“Hmm,” Sunoo hummed, feeling through the envelope with his fingers to see if it'd give him any clues… “are these... condoms?!!”
“What!? No! Why would I give you such a thing!?” You laughed out loud, giving the park a brief scan to see if anyone was around to have heard your boyfriend's wild revelation.
“Relax, ____... nobody’s watching the romantic couple on their picnic date,” Sunoo reassured with a light-hearted chuckle, running his hand a little higher on your thigh this time, making your breath hitch slightly.
What was getting into him today?...
“Righttt... so it’s just us and the trees now, huh?” You asked sarcastically, just as a random hiker came walking up the trail a few feet behind you two.
“Yup!” Sunoo answered confidently, letting his touch leave your skin, “just us, the trees... and no protection…”
Tear ˎˊ˗ ...
Sunoo tore open the triangular flap that once sealed the envelope, opening the paper-pocket to reveal a set of tiny squares poking back at him…
“Wow,” his voice started, a feigned shock to his tone, “you must really wanna take me raw after this…”
“Oh my God, you’re being such a slut today,” you whisper-yelled, smacking his shoulder playfully before taking the envelope from his grasp, shaking out the contents into his open palm.
“They’re P o l a r o i d s,” you enunciated slowly, “of us, baby...” you continued with a smile, watching as he brought each photo to his face, one by one to examine them...
“Aww,” Sunoo pouted, feeling his own heart warm up at the burst of memories. “Thank you, love… this is such a sweet anniversary gift,” he said, leaning forward to hug you, his weight accidentally overtaking you to the point where your back fell against the picnic mat with a soft thud.
It wasn't unusual for Sunoo to underestimate his strength, especially whenever he got excited and wanted to show you his affection... still, it's something that he always felt bad about doing...
“____, I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to...” your boyfriend's initially apologetic voice trailed off, all thanks to the mistakably erotic sound that slipped past your lips while caged beneath him.
“S-Sunoo… it's okay,” you stammered nervously, feeling his thigh brush up against your core as he adjusted him position, a small wet spot from your soaked panties now marking his jeans.
You couldn't think of anything to say, especially not with the way your sundress was hiked up now, putting your hips and bottom on full display.
Propping yourself up on your elbows, you were met with the wet sight yourself now, Sunoo’s flexed thigh doing nothing but make things worse for the ache growing inside you...
“T-that's not what I think it is... right?”
Your boyfriend's voice came out quietly as a delayed silence followed right after, his eyes staying fixed on you as you raised to sit on your knees now.
You put a hand to his chest, pushing his back against the picnic mat now before leaning on top of him and whispering, “Stop staring and just kiss me already…”
Sunoo almost couldn't believe those words had left your mouth so smoothly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with anticipation as his eyes fell back to your lips.
Your gorgeous, kissable lips...
“And if anyone sees us?” He asked with a slight rasp to his voice, eyes sparkling beneath the sunlight as you traced the side of his face with a finger...
“Then they can cry about it…”
That's all it took before you two started kissing, both of your eyes fluttering shut as gentle sounds of pleasure were exchanged by the tips of your tongues.
You felt one of his hands find the side of your face and drift down to your neck, his touch gripping just enough at your throat for the pressure to be noticeable, but not overwhelming.
“Been wanting to do this since we got here,” Sunoo groaned, a little weak yet heavy at the end as you broke away from the kiss, meeting his eyes with your own lovestruck ones as you noticed his touch wandered lower, pulling your sundress over the curve of your hips again, tugging at your panties.
“Wanna get these off of you so bad, baby,” your boyfriend said breathlessly, your legs wasted no time in moving just enough for him to slip your panties down and toss them.
“Much better,” you hummed, letting your lips find his again in an even more hungry kiss than before as you felt his fingers ghost over your folds, circling your clit in a way that had you twitching almost instantly.
Something about the way he kissed you in this moment was so raw and greedy, a bit of spit dribbling down the side of both your mouths, only for you two to take turns licking it back up with your tongues.
And he was gathering so much of your slick on his fingers, too, making your clit throb with need as he kept toying with it, your hips subconsciously rocking against his fingers as you grew closer and closer.
“You're making such a mess of me, Sunoo,” you said in between kissing him, his mouth traveling to your neck where he sucked even harder against your flesh, groaning against your skin.
“Can't help it when you taste so sweet, love,” is all he managed to say before rolling you over on your back and taking dominance again, your body being sprawled out face-up on the picnic mat as he started to pepper kisses down from your jaw, to your tits, before finally reaching your swollen cunt.
You couldn't help but close your thighs around his head, even though it was only a matter of time before he forced them open again, taking a break to finger your pussy while marking the expanse of your thighs, holding intense eye contact with you the entire time.
“Could play with your pussy all day, baby,” he mumbled against you, moving from your thigh to lick a stripe up the middle of your core, “might have to beg me to stop...”
“F-fuck,” you cried out, arching your back at the way your core trembled thanks to his skilled fingers curling inside you, “I'm so close, baby...”
“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, looking you straight in the eye again while still fucking you with his digits, “gonna cream on my fingers, baby?... clench that pretty pussy as you cum for me?”
A string of desperate yes's spilled from your lips only to get caught in your throat, your teary eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt yourself release from the inside out, shaking from the wave of pleasure that washed over you.
“That's it baby... let it all out,” Sunoo cooed, fingers not ceasing in fucking your hole until you reached your hand down to stop his wrist from moving.
Sunoo just stared at you for a second... and even though he knew you hated when he did that, he couldn't help it. You just looked so beautiful to him right now. Cheeks a flushed hue from your orgasm, covered in his marks from your chest to your thighs...
Using his free hand, Sunoo reach for the picnic basket, digging under a few things before pulling out a shiny gold package.
A condom.
“Babe, you... you planned this?” You asked with a glint of amusement to your voice, body still moving in slow-motion as you recovered from your first orgasm.
“Hey, don't judge me,” he smiled softly, tossing the condom in the middle of you two as he got started with unbuckling his pants, “you can put it on me, if you like...”
Timidly, you crawled towards your boyfriend on all fours, thankful to God that you didn't flinch once his dick sprung out from the confines of his boxers, nearly hitting you in the face given how hard it was.
Still, there was something about the subtle look of shock on your face that made Sunoo feel good about himself, reaching out a hand to caress your head as you tried opening the package with your nails.
“Just use your teeth, love,” Sunoo suggested, just as you took the plastic in your mouth, tearing it away with ease.
Pulling out the ring of rubber, you aligned it over his tip first, sliding it down in a stroking motion.
It doesn't take long before you have the whole condom slid down his shaft, but your ministrations don't stop there.
You kept pumping him in long, drawn out movements, experimenting with pressures and slightly escalating the speed with each stroke.
And it didn’t take long before he started moaning all loud and shamelessly, biting his lip with slightly screwed brows as you continued to jerk his cock in your hand, caressing his thigh with your free hand to help him relax.
“Sh-shit,” Sunoo cursed beneath his breath, eyes glued to the way you fisting his length, your hickey-stained cleavage coming into view as your sundress fell further down your shoulders with gravity.
The whole sight was just so intoxicating to him, especially coupled with the sensation of your fingers wrapped around him.
It was only a matter of time before you had him coming undone, filling the condom with his load as you started to stroke him more slowly now, somehow craving his dick even more.
He was a panting mess, pretty chest heaving beneath his shirt as you sat up on your knees now, crawling over to straddle his lap.
His lust-ridden eyes watched you the entire time, too, pants still lazily hanging around his thighs as you untied the bow keeping the top of your sundress together, revealing almost your full chest to him.
He didn’t hesitate to start groping your chest, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands as you humped against his lap, sliding your slick folds over his wrapped dick and shivering from the returned stimulation.
You moaned at his actions, clinging onto your boyfriend’s shirt at the sudden feeling of his tip prodding at your entrance.
“God, I need to be inside you so bad, ____... need to feel you taking me nice and slow...” Sunoo practically mewled against your lips, the desperation of words making your pussy clench around nothing.
You let your hips grind against his length even faster now, despite how you both were extremely sensitive at this point.
You didn’t expect one fleeting kiss to get you here… a slimy, moaning mess in your boyfriend's lap all in the middle of nature… but you were too far gone to turn back now, and besides… something about the risk of being caught like this was a turn on for you, anyways…
Reaching down for his dick, you let the head find your hole again before slowly feeling him slide past your ridged walls, shaky sighs coming from both your lips now…
You two stayed like that for a few moments, too, simply basking in each other’s closeness until you got ready to move, Sunoo’s delicate hands resting at your hips, eventually guiding your speed.
“S-Sunoo,” you started weakly, thighs trembling at the way his tip grazed your sweet spot as he rocked you back and forth against him, “we’re not gonna last very long in a state like this…”
Your sultry words sounded like fuzz in his brain for a second, his body being too pleasure drunk to focus on anything other than the way your perfect pussy was taking him.
You kept your hands secure at his shoulders, grinding against him the best your tired legs could manage as his lips connected to the skin below your ear, speaking the feathery words: “Might as well make it worth it, then…”
That's when your boyfriend let his back fall against the picnic mat, releasing his grip from your hips, only to find your hands instead, connecting you both by your latticed fingers.
His pelvis snapped up to help you both reach your highs faster, your chest heaving with emotions as you gasped at the feeling of his cock plunging inside you so well, a mere matter of seconds passing before your orgasms hit you both like a crashing wave.
Sweet mmm's and ahh's of pleasure left both your squirming bodies, Sunoo's thighs twitching beneath you as your walls clenched down on his length, your climax taking it's sweet time to leave you.
You felt his cum slowly fill up the condom from inside you, gentle pants escaping his swollen lips as your hands stayed intertwined, eyes slightly teary beneath the shining sun.
“I can't believe we just did that in public,” you sighed, lifting your hips from his to free yourself from the stimulation, helping yourself to removing the now filled rubber from your boyfriend's dick and tossing it in a picnic napkin.
Sunoo smiled at your choice of words before sitting back up to readjust his pants, still feeling a bit wobbly in his movements after everything that just happened.
“And I'm more than open to doing this again,” he said, crawling towards you on the mat to help re-tie the bow at the top of your dress, “… and again, and again, and again...”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you chuckled with a smile, watching his hands finish up each bow before he creating a small distance between you, placing the picnic basket in the center of the mat and flipping open it's lid, his hair slightly disheveled as he asked, “In the mood for some ice cream soup?”
AUTHOR’S NOTE 𐙚 | To the anon at the very top of this post, I hope you enjoyed what I came up for with for everyone’s favorite sunny boy !! That is, if you ever happen to cross paths with my blog again >< !!
TAGLIST 𐙚 | @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @watamotee33 @ot7sevenlvr + link to my enhypen bookshelf if you’re interested !!
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𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐄 | 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒
Genre: SMUT
Rating: 18+
Word count: 2k
Character(s): Sylus (Shin), fem!Reader
A/N: This is my first time in a long time sharing a non-yakuza, non-ss fic, so I'm super nervous! I started on this back in August and kept giving up on it but somehow today I managed to power through! I wanted to make this a little something more than just smashing a fave but as of now there's still LOTS to learn about Shin. Hopefully it's decent?
Too long for tumblr? Read on AO3!
You can't get enough of him and who was he to deny his sweet girl?
The rustle of sheets shifting beneath desperate bodies had nearly been silenced by the ferocious song of labored breathing and damp skin connecting. Sharp hisses, quiet promises and gratified curses pushed through swollen, parted lips. His– pink and plush– slipped between his pearly whites in a sad attempt to mute himself but he was unsuccessful. There was no hiding how good his cock felt buried deep within your smooth, sticky velvet. Greedy, spongy walls selfishly sucked him back in stroke after savory stroke.
It was too much, and yet, not nearly enough.
Tears of sweat raced along Sylus’ tall, sinewy body. The night lights of the bustling city you’d just spent a whole day exploring, peaked through the floor to ceiling windows. Neither of you had bothered to draw the curtains before you fell into bed, chasing each other’s lips and caress. Now, with the city’s blessing, you were graced with the sight of his muscles bulging and veins dancing with each deep roll of his hips. His fair skin shined like pearls of alabaster. The city’s illumination wasn’t too generous though. It softened his features and hid just how lust-ridden his expression actually was.
He’d promised himself when you checked into the hotel this evening that he would be on his best behavior, that he’d rest with you after your showers and keep his hands to himself. However, encouraged by the couple glasses of vino he’d ordered you at dinner, you stripped out the sexy red dress that he’d had painstakingly tailored for your gorgeous figure shortly after entering the room and dropped it to puddle around your feet. You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself all day and the build up led you to mow him down the moment you had him all to yourself.
And who was he to deny the whims of his favorite kitten?
You had been writhing and moaning beneath him for no less than twenty minutes now and though you’d reached your peak twice, it was written in your starry eyes that you desperately needed more. Sylus had been dying to cum since since orgasm #1 but he always prided himself in being the one who could satisfy you like no other.
When he took you to bed, he always encouraged you to use him to your heart's content. Each time he sank his long, thick cock inside your heat, he was convinced that this was what he was placed onto the planet to do.
Nothing ever felt more right than this.
The way his balls tightened at the thought practically confirmed that as fact and it drove him fucking insane.
You spread your legs further, slippery fingers gripping at his waist in an attempt to pull him in deeper. A curt breath pushed through his nostrils as his lips curled in a jeer. How cute, he thought as he hooked his own deft fingers beneath your right knee and lifted it to rest your leg above his shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss against your ankle, your foot dangling above his ear.
Sylus knew that if he kept up at this pace he would wind up spilling himself inside of you. Though he angled himself to offer you the final inch of cock that you’d been craving for, he softened and slowed his stroke.
You let out a groan, expressing your discontent with this without a word but he continued as he were, flashing a teasing but apologetic smirk. It wasn’t lost on him what you wanted but for now, just for now, he had to ignore your desires until he could gather himself once again. Pressing a kiss to your lips, he mentally promised to give you what you wanted… in due time.
You reached for his face, nimble fingers unknowingly trailing behind a bead of sweat that raced along his sharp jawline then dripped off his chin. “Sy, don’t stop!”
He craned his head to catch one of your knuckles between his lips, giving it a sweet peck, hips still rolling gently against you, “Sweetie, if I don’t lighten up, I’ll cum…”
The same fingers he’d leaned in to kiss, slithered up his neck then tangled themselves in the short, damp hair at the back of his head before pulling him down until he was but a breath apart from your lips. Lowering your leg from its rightful place above his broad shoulder, you wrapped it and its twin around his undulating waist.
A sharp gasp escaped his lips, his scarlet gaze widened down at you.
You gripped the short of his hair tighter, all but snatching it from his scalp as you locked him in place using your heels to guide his thrusts for an added emphasis.
“Dont. Fucking. Stop!” you panted, then sank your teeth into his bottom lip.
A pointed groan ripped from deep within his diaphragm. His dark, narrow brows twitched with nearly the same intensity as his body. Sylus’ large, clammy hand was shaky in its reach for the pillow haloed around your head. Loud moans sounded out as he managed just a few more deep, stuttering thrusts with your guidance and then his entire body stiffened…
Did he just…?
Horror chilled his body just as quickly as the lust that lit him on fire.
He could barely count on his own strength to hold him up above you. Second by second his arms grew limp, practically useless.
This… had never happened before.
Did he really just react to you taking charge as if he were a virgin getting his cock wet for the first time in his life? Thoughts poured into him like alphabet soup– scrambled and senseless. What had you done to him? Surely he was capable of far more vigor than his…
Ruby red poured over your face, attempting to study you while maintaining his own composure. Was this the night he’d disappoint you? Would you believe him if he told you that this was exactly what he planned to do? He wondered.
A wickedness curled the corners of your mouth and delight flashed in your eyes.
For once, he found you impossible to read. Were you amused at his lackluster performance? Were you pleased with yourself for getting exactly what you wanted? Or… Was there something else?
Once again securing your legs around his waist, song fell from your parted lips as you rocked into him, helping yourself over and over to his softening cock. Pathetic whimpers escaped him as he watched your eyes roll back, completely indifferent to the sensitivity plaguing member. Your nails combed at his scalp as you pulled him closer, giggling softly as you pressed a kiss to his lips.
Biting back a groan, he whispered against yours. “Are you not done with me yet, kitten?”
His pulse was already out of control but the mind-numbingly beautiful smile you flashed at him as you shook your head was nearly enough to double it. A playful scoff brushed warmly against your glistening face.
“That so?”
Sylus dug his fingertips into the pillow, gripping until he’d made a fist. Biting back the embarrassing moan that itched his throat, he wound his jaw. He steeled himself, resting his weight onto his hands that were stretched out to claw at the lumpy sheets surrounding you. Slowly but surely, he was beginning to roll his hips once again, trying his best to regain just enough composure to take back control. This sensitivity however, was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.
His thick cock twitched inside of you, blood pumping in efforts to rejuvenate itself. He felt as if he was becoming more hard this time than he was right before he’d come.
“Fuck, ____.” he grunted through clenched teeth.
It wasn’t common for him to use your name, especially in moments like this but now he’d been uttering it against your skin like a prayer. You were the goddess he was hoping would show him mercy. Of course, his prayers would go unanswered. He worshiped a selfish deity, one that saw no error in using him and received pleasure from his torment.
And he wanted it no other way.
The thought would have made him laugh had he not been dying from overstimulation.
At what point did he become the type to all but beg to be fucked like this? Just exactly when did you come to wield such power over him? How did he allow himself to become so utterly pathetic?
You pulled him in for a messy kiss as if sensing the whirlpool that was his thoughts and sought to silence them. He had become putty in your hands– Or perhaps, he always had been? Each time he fell under your touch, he watched him stray further and further from the Sylus he’d so ardently crafted. The man practically ripping a hole into the fabric of these very expensive sheets as he frantically pounded you was a stranger to him.
“Ah, that feels so good, Sy!” you whined, your hands slipping from his head back down to grip pathetically at his dripping waist. “Please, don’t stop!”
“Of course, Sweetie.” he panted harshly, his expression hardening as he glanced down at your sloppy connection. Both his cum and your arousal splashed back against his thighs, a ring of cream likely building up around the base of his cock.
Then, he stared at your beautiful face. Pretty lips parted, brows needled together to signify your desperation, and your eyes, the ones that made his heart stutter each time they’d connected with his, were laser focused on the way he’d been splitting you. While you lost yourself to his cock, he lost himself within you.
Who was he? Right now, who was he really?
He knew the answer to that a long time ago but right now, he didn't have the foggiest clue…
Sylus felt your walls contracting around him, the grip like a vice as his balls tightened no matter how hard he fought against the buckle of his stroke. He was intent on churning through that sensitivity, now utterly delicious, in an effort to usher his sweet kitten to the taste of bliss she was so fervently chasing.
Focus, Sylus. Fucking focus. He told himself.
You buried your nails deep into his biceps, crescent moons would soon fill with blood and he left them as it. He had no intention of faltering.
“Comin–!” you forced out, sweaty back arching off of the bed.
He gripped at your waist, slamming you down to meet his clumsy thrusts. A stream of your juices sprayed out onto him but he continued to pound, guiding you to once again to wrap your legs around his waist. Once you did, a loud roar of your name left him as he filled you one more time. Together with him, a chorus of pleasured moans filled the air until soon he drowned yours out.
“Agh, AGH! aH!” he groaned, thrusting until he could no longer.
Your hands fell from his arms, limp at your side and with a shudder, Sylus plopped down onto you, still careful not to squish you with his body weight.
His brows twitched with frustration as he fought to catch his breath. Fuck… He was so certain he would be able to last longer that time.
He rested on his forearm then used his free hand to guide you to meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” he managed through a huff. “Give me a bit and we can try again if you’re still not satisfied.”
An almost derpy smile spread across your lips as you ran your hand through his silver strands, so sweaty that most of it slicked back with ease, showing off his tired but oh, so very handsome face. Shaking your head, you whispered. “No, you were perfect… That was amazing. Thank you.”
His scarlet eyes bounced between yours as a smile that could rival yours spread across his plush lips. You didn’t miss the way they glimmered with pride as he stared down at you.
“No need to thank me, Sweetie.” he whispered right before giving you one final kiss, one to communicate the adoration he felt for you at that moment. “You’re welcome to use me anytime.”
Please do not reupload/repost/rewrite. Reblogs always appreciated.
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