#and that I like she/her/they/them pronouns equally

[everythingsbetterunderthestars]

Similar to the other post I just made but I need to scream it again into tumblr because I want to: MY PARENTS ARE SO AMAZING you guys if you think people from different generations can’t understand us (especially queer people) that’s not true my parents are literally the best

[non-un-topo]

It's strangely gender-affirming when my mom gets defensive and accuses me of mansplaining

[milkfroggo]

Gender isn't stored in the pronouns!

[heirofnepeta]

great news everybody ive absorbed new pronouns from the ether i use it/its as well now :thumbsup:

[lemonsbakery]

youre never going to guess who is paranoid because they spoke out about how they're sick of nonbinary people being bound to they/them pronouns and hating how prominent that stereotype is in the cookie run community

[kalashtars]

venting in the tags yippeee

[toastsnaffler]

my brother is always SO vague abt his personal life w me I need to sit him down and grill him if I see him next month in person 😡

[sinematically]

my new fav hobby is arguing with people in the comments to reels and being kinder and kinder as they get progressively more worked up

[busket]

binary trans folks. can we agree that a stranger using they/them for you in a quick interaction without asking your pronouns is actually considerate and polite and is not the same as someone continuing to use they/them for you after you correct them

"but you wouldn't use a gender neutral pronoun for someone who is obviously cis and not queer"

yeah, because they're obviously cis and not queer....if I see 60 year old Helen at the bakery who's married to her husband and has grandkids I can probably assume she uses she/her.

if I see You at a pride event, and I can tell that you're queer, and you present in a way that leans towards male or female, I still know that gender does not equal presentation which does not equal pronouns. so if I'm referring to you in passing without having time to ask your pronouns I'm probably gonna use they/them, just to be polite. and if you correct me, I'll use the correct pronouns from there on, of course! but I think it's kind of silly to get upset or sad about it, especially if I'm a stranger to you and we are clearly both queer.

and if it still really bothers you, wear a pronoun pin, like idk what to say. I'm not gonna assume a stranger's gender if I can tell they're probably trans too, and they/them always feels like the most courteous option imo

[bumblesimagines]

Burning Love

Request: Yes or No

Summary: As the eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne, Prince (Y/N) Targaryen has many responsibilities; most of which his darling sister hopes to share with him one day.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Targcest/Incest (Full-blooded Brother-Sister), Aemma lives!! and Alicent is not a childbride, mentions of stillbirths and miscarriages (Aemma's pregnancies)

Collecting HOTD oneshots like pokemon cards at this point

~~~

It was known that Targaryens had... questionable traditions. Traditions those with outsider perspective could only force themself to understand.

There was the act of putting a dragon egg in the cradle of a babe and hoping the egg would hatch sometime soon after to ensure the babe was bonded to a loyal protector they'd grow up alongside of; a tradition started by Rhaena Targaryen, eldest daughter of King Aenys I and Queen Alyssa Velaryon. Targaryens were Dragonriders, bonded with the very beasts they used to conquer the lands and pull them all into one kingdom (with the exception of Dorne, of course). They cremated their dead, a custom from Old Valyria, often with the help of a dragon belonging to their closest kin. 

And of course, the most infamous and often looked down upon custom, wedding kin to kin. Another custom from Old Valyria that many followers of the Seven turned their cheek upon, for they found the act of wedding siblings to siblings and so forth (apart from cousin to cousin) a sin. Faithful followers could voice their complaints as much as they wished, but Targaryens were kings, queens, princes, and princesses. Nobody could or would stop them from keeping their bloodline pure if they so wished. 

Descending from a long, historic, and proud family, Rhaenyra grew up listening and learning the tales of those who'd come before her. Aegon the Conquer and his faithful sister-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya; the many rebellions and fighting brought on during the lives of King Aenys I and King Maegor the Cruel; The Old King Jaehaerys who'd chosen her father, Viserys, as heir over his own late heir's daughter, Rhaenys; and of course, the histories written during the early stages of her father's reign. 

Her beloved older brother had been two when King Jaehaerys named their father heir and three when their father ascended the throne whilst their beautiful mother, Aemma Arryn, carried her in the womb. The fourth person to ever hold little Rhaenyra in their arms had been her brother, closely supervised by their parents and the maester attending the birth, of course. With a healthy son and daughter, Viserys and Aemma hardly needed for more children, but they tried anyway. Their attempts never carried to term, however, and any little ones that did were either stillborn or died mere hours or days after birth. 

Still, Rhaenyra never needed for any more siblings. Her brother was enough, in her humble opinion. He cared for her diligently, especially during their younger years when he eagerly wished to play with her, even if it meant the two of them being gently scolded at the end of the day for dirting Rhaenyra's dresses with mud and dirt. (Y/N) treated her as his equal, even showing her how to use a wooden sword when he began his training and helping prepare her for dragon-riding on Syrax. His own mount hardly needed much training in the Dragonpit, for the mighty Vermithor's first rider had been the Old King.

As time passed, the siblings were forced apart more often than Rhaenyra enjoyed. She'd made up her mind long ago that she and (Y/N) would one day be wed, and she'd be his formidable sister-wife. Their parents merely chuckled about it when she'd first told them at the age of seven, her squeaky voice and flushed cheeks only drawing cooing from Aemma and sweet smiles from Viserys. The absence of her brother had been stark, his time taken up by training, studying, and spending time with the Small Council, but Alicent Hightower had quickly taken his spot as Rhaenyra's companion. 

However, in due time, (Y/N) became man-grown, and while Rhaenyra quickly followed with her flowering, as heir and prince, (Y/N) became the most eligible bachelor in all of Westeros. It took time for it to become apparent to Rhaenyra but her eyes and ears opened when she heard their parents speaking of it. Many families, highborn and lowborn, offered their daughters through letters or visits to Kings Landing. Lannisters, Baratheons, Starks, Brackens, Blackwoods, Tullys, and plenty more came forth. Even Otto Hightower made a passing comment about wedding Alicent to him. It was infuriating.

"In truth, I do not understand your irritation, Rhaenyra," Alicent spoke gently, her slender fingers working on embroidery. A flower she'd seen in the gardens, or something along those lines. Rhaenyra hadn't truly been paying attention to her dear friend. She'd been too focused on silently fuming at the sight of her brother showing one of the highborn ladies around the Red Keep. Every giggle, every blush, every bat of her eyelashes made Rhaenyra tick. "It's wonderful to watch one's brother fall in love."

"You wouldn't understand, Alicent." Rhaenyra sighed. "It is like the love King Jaeherys and the Good Queen Alysanne had."

Alicent faltered at her words, her head lifting to eye her friend with a small grimace. "You do remember our lessons, correct? King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne had to wed in secret, for they knew that not even their mother approved in fear of another uprising from the Faith. Nobody has made a fuss over your parents since they are cousins, but who knows what may happen if you wed (Y/N)."

"(Y/N) is everything King Jaehaerys was, Alicent. He is beloved by the Realm." Rhaenyra reminded her friend with a small smile, pushing herself off the cushioned seats and smoothing her hands over the front of her dress. Her earrings swung slightly when she tilted her head slightly to the side, the ends of them brushing against her shoulders. Her eyes tracked (Y/N) as he lifted the lady's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles before departing. "He will be a good king, and if I could prove it, I would be a good queen. His queen." Her feet began moving automatically. 

"Rhaenyra," The name tumbled out of Alicent's mouth, her hands fumbling with the items in hand. "Where are you going?"

Bunching up the skirt of her dress in her hands, Rhaenyra grinned over her shoulder and chuckled at the concerned look on Alicent's features that only grew at the sight of her mischievous glint. "To speak with my brother!" 

With a goal in mind, Rhaenyra entered the castle and followed the distant figure of her brother as he cut down hallways with long strides until he reached his bedchambers. Rhaenyra took a moment to herself to catch her breath and rake her fingers through her long silver locks before she approached the doors and nodded for the guards to open them. She stepped inside, a smile appearing across her lips when (Y/N) turned to look at her. 

"My favorite sister," (Y/N) cooed, taking a seat at his desk and unrolling a letter. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes in return, clasping her hands together behind her back and taking small steps toward him. He skimmed the contents of the letter, his face giving away nothing of what it spoke of. "Is there something you require, Nyra, or are you suffering from boredom? I have plenty of lords and ladies who'd be happy to keep you busy." 

Rhaenyra scoffed quietly and (Y/N) gave a small grin. "I hear Father is urging you to find a wife."

"The Small Council is urging him to urge me, more like. They believe it is time to begin having children. Seeing as Father and Mother had great difficulty, they wish for me to have an heir by the time I ascend the throne to ensure there won't be issues later on." (Y/N) explained, coiling the letter back up and pulling out a blank paper. He dipped his quill in ink and began writing. "Otto has been... more friendly as of recently. He speaks incredibly highly of Lady Alicent." 

"You'd tell me if you were interested in someone, wouldn't you?" Rhaenyra reached over the desk to pluck the quill from his fingers, setting it aside and raising her brows at him. (Y/N) slumped back in his seat and laced his fingers over his midsection, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. Rhaenyra rounded the table and without thinking twice, she plopped down on his thigh. 

"Nyra,"

"You know as well as I do who you should wed, (Y/N). I know what a good queen should be, and I do not care about status or riches like the families of those ladies do. We have the blood of the dragon in our veins. Nobody would truly understand us." Rhaenyra spoke softly, her bottom lip slightly jutting out as she placed her palm over his cheek. His own hands unlaced, one moving to press against her back. 

"The Small Council-"

"Fuck the Small Council." Rhaenyra huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from her brother. "You are the prince, the heir. Whatever it is you choose, they must deal with it. It is their job to counsel, to offer their advice and opinions, not to dictate what you do. We could mount Syrax and Vermithor and fly elsewhere to wed in the customs of Old Valyria." 

A gentle sigh escaped (Y/N), and he leaned forward to press a delicate kiss to Rhaenyra's shoulder. The princess relaxed at the action, her hand moving past his cheek to the back of his head. (Y/N)'s lips curled up. "You are insufferable." He told her with a gentle laugh before leaning in to press their mouths together. He drew back too quickly for Rhaenyra's liking. "But a good ruler is a patient one, Nyra. If you wish for us to wed, or to lay together-" He brushed their lips together teasingly. "-you must wait. Father and Mother will be easy to convince." 

"Does it matter if we wait?" Rhaenyra tilted her head and batted her lashes coyly, the feigned innocence prompting (Y/N) to roll his eyes. She rose from his lap and dropped her hands to his, tugging on them until he stood up from the chair. She smiled widely, devilishly even, and slung her arms around his shoulders. "We will be wed, regardless. It will not matter." 

"I have things I must do, Nyra." (Y/N) gave a heavy sigh and shrugged his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on her waist. "As I said, you must be patient. If you wish to speed things along, you should speak with Mother. She'll always be the key to winning Father over." He told her and planted a kiss on her temple before settling back down on the chair. 

"Will we be like that someday?" Rhaenyra asked softly, stepping out of the way so he could resume his letter. She toyed with the rings along her fingers, the thought of becoming one of those couples who genuinely cared for each other bringing a smile to herself. It was a desire all ladies had. While sons could marry whichever woman of age they desired, ladies had to hope the husbands their fathers or elder brothers chose were good men. She'd seen far too many times the faces of girls her age married and chained to men old enough to be their grandfathers. 

(Y/N) paused his writing and lifted his head to look at her, offering a reassuring smile. "Someday." He nodded. 

"I look forward to it, then."

[genderqueerdykes]

as an intersex trans wo/man, i've noticed that unfortunately it has become painfully obvious that not only do radfems and terfs try to abuse trans men into falling in line with their beliefs, but unfortunately, this happens to trans women and transfemmes as well. i've unfortunately seen several trans women fall down the the "men evil, women innocent, trans men have cis male privilege, trans men don't struggle, trans men aren't men or trans they're just confused butches," pipeline really quickly after transitioning or their eggs cracking, and it's not necessarily that transfem's fault, but rather an abusive person sweeping in to take advantage of someone who needs and wants validation in feeling like a woman. the person who put the terf ideals in their head during this crucial stage in development is to blame, it is not inherently the trans woman's fault.

vulnerable transfems and trans women become indoctrinated into these things. trans women and fems are not inherently bitter, shitty, hateful people. it's a select few who become groomed by radfems who push this belief, and push it hard, because that's what you do when youve been indoctrinated into a cult. it's not an issue inherent to trans women and transfeminism at all- it's vulnerable people being groomed. this is a serious issue of trans women and fems being groomed and brainwashed.

this is a huge deal and we have to stand up for each other, because the transfems getting groomed into this need support and help to get out of this cult. it is not okay for women who are just trying to find their footing to almost instantly get sucked up into a literal hate group. we have to help trans people who become indoctrinated into gender essentialism, antimasculism, and transandrophobia just as much as we help other trans people unlearn transmisogyny. these issues are both damaging our community on the whole.

radfems are aggressive and will try to indoctrinate anyone they can into antimasculism, transandrophobia, and gender essentialism. a lot of trans women in the early stages of transition really want to be validated as women and such, will become groomed by these groups of cis women who will gladly feed them toxic ideals like women can never be wrong, women are always innocent, men are always harmful and evil, it just benefits the radfems, not the trans woman. this behavior grooms yet another person into spreading radfeminism without realizing it. when one espouses these beliefs they become a spokesperson for radfeminism and terfism

i'm plain tired of seeing this argument, because it is nothing but gender essentialist binarist bullshit:

"transphobia is worse for trans women than trans men because of x, y, z."

its not worse. its different. but equal.

i understand that many folks have not lived the life a trans man leads, but whenever you try to speculate on what it's like, you will always be wrong, no matter what, because you weren't in that person's shoes. it's impossible to see the nitty gritty of how a specific group of people are treated unless you are that person or spend lots of time around large groups of those types of people. trans men face homelessness at a disproportionately high rate compared to other groups of queer folk. we also deal with forced detransition. we deal with being dehumanized by she/her pronouns. we deal with having lesbianism and butchness weaponized against us. we also deal with sexual violence. we also deal with physical, mental, and emotional abuse. we deal with gaslighting, lying, being robbed, abandoned, injured and killed. its virtually impossible to find support if you're a pregnant trans man.

trans men have a lot of unique struggles. this is not a comprehensive list, but rather to show you that ALL trans people struggle. we are united under the same banner of transphobic treatment. we are struggling, but we are struggling together, and we can uplift each other without tearing each other down. punching down on another trans person hurts us all.

belittling the trauma of other trans people is a form of queer infighting that terfs want you to do in order to fracture our community further. queer infighting doesn't help anyone whatsoever. trans men do not have it harder than trans women. trans women do not have it harder than trans men. amab and afab and intersex enbies don't have it worse than each other. these are all completely different and unique struggles that deserve to be acknowledged for what they are. you cannot use the same scale of severity for a totally different problem.

people love to completely gloss over the issues trans men face for the sake of believing that all men benefit from patriarchy. saying that trans men are not affected by specific kinds of transphobia is spreading the radfem belief that only women struggle under patriarchy. queer men, men of color, intersex men, gay men, bisexual men, trans men, polyamorous men, genderfluid men, bigender men, gender non conforming men, feminine men, men who crossdress, disabled men, neurodivergent men, mentally ill men, and other marginalized men suffer under patriarchy as well.

i'm not tolerating radfem gender essentialism being woven into queer ideals anymore. this behavior has to go. when you genuinely believe these things, we all lose.

[kaciidubs]

Pearl Necklace

❣ Summary: In which Chris gives you a personally made pearl necklace. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, no plot, blowjob, cum play ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Baby, Channie, Lover Boy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty, Princess, unedited, ive been so busy with life and stuck in a writing rut so please take this as an unnecessary apology ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Baby…” 

Your dramatic drawl came with the equally dramatic act of draping yourself over Chris’s body, effectively gaining his attention from whatever video he was watching on his phone as he happily welcomed your weight sinking him further into the couch. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He laughed, tilting his head, “I’d be surprised if you did all that with the intention of not trying to get my attention - what’s up, baby?”

“Can you give me a pearl necklace?”

The twinkle in your eyes did nothing to explain away your sudden request - you weren’t the type to usually wear accessories as it was already, so the desire for a pearl necklace out of any other form of jewelry had him raising an eyebrow.

“Pearls? Like, pearl beads? I mean…” Glancing at his phone, he swiped at the screen to pull up Google, “We can look up some places that sell them if you really want it, I think I can find a few stores that-”

Your hand swiftly slipped his phone from his hold before locking it and stashing it near the couch pillow underneath his head, dismissing his growing confusion with a charming smile.

“Actually, I was thinking that we could make it together.”

“Oh?” 

Do-it-yourself, of course - he loved when you had little projects you wanted to include him in, even if the outcome sometimes didn’t go to plan, it was the quality time that mattered the most.

“Sure, I’m down for that,” he sat up while you rose to sit in his lap properly, his hands resting on your bare thighs, “did you buy the stuff already? Do we need to go shopping?”

You shook your head, pink tongue peeking out to wet your lips, “Nope, everything we’d need is right here.”

A devilish swivel of your hips, loose pajama shorts almost becoming an invisible barrier against his worn basketball shorts, and his confusion spiked up once again.

“Pretty, what- Wait a second-” Hands gripping the width of your hips, he tried to will away the near instant reaction his body always had when it came to you, “What’s going on? I thought you wanted to make a necklace-”

“I do.”

Normally, your nod of agreement would’ve been enough to clear the air, but when you pulled your oversized t-shirt up and off of your body, the layers only deepened.

“So why are you taking off your clothes? Not- Not that I’m complaining, I just…” His train of thought began to trail off with the drifting of his eyes down your neck, following the contours of your collarbones to the swells of your chest he’d been acquainted with time and time again. “Are we actually making a necklace here or…?”

“We are,” leaning forward, you placed a featherlight kiss to his pouty lips, “we just need to do a few extra steps first.”

Chris designed a few pieces of jewelry in his lifetime, and though he wouldn’t say he’s an expert when it came to the actual crafting of the pieces, he’d be inclined to assume that the process of making a necklace didn’t involve his girlfriend on her knees, giving him the best head of his life - granted, he always considered everything she did for him as the best in his life, but his point still stood.

“Fuck… Just like that, baby- Oh, god-” His head fell against the back of the couch, a shiver running down his spine when he felt the tip press against the back of your throat again. “‘S so good, baby - you’re so fucking good, pretty girl.”

You hummed around his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pulled off of him with a wet pop - lips glistening in a mixture of saliva and precum that put any form of lipgloss to shame.

“Just ‘good’, Channie?” Voice laced with teasing allure, you held the base of his cock as you laved your tongue along one of his balls, sucking at the skin and smirking at the kick of his leg in response.

He choked on a moan, one hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion while the other ran through his hair “Baby, please - I can’t- fuck- can’t really think while you’re doing this!”

Giving his other ball the similar treatment, you littered open mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock, “Mm… Can you look at me then, lover boy?”

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure when he had closed his eyes to begin with, but lifting his head and directing his full attention to you made him realize why keeping them closed was working in his favor.

Hypnotizing sultry gaze behind lidded eyes, your lips resting perfectly against his shaft as your hand gripped the base of his dick with practiced perfection - if he even dared to look any further then he’d see the utterly filthy line of saliva coating your chin, or the way your free hand was making itself busy between your legs.

The twitch of his dick was all you needed to feel to know that you had him right where you wanted him, a satisfied smile curving the corners of your lips as you pumped your fist.

“Ready to make that necklace for me?”

His breath hitched, lips parting to let out a shivering moan as he frantically nodded, “Y-Yeah- Shit, yeah - gonna make you look so pretty, princess.”

Your eyes sparkled, a giddy expression almost overtaking the utter lust exuding from you as you doubled your efforts with your hand - the wet, slick sound floating through the air while you jerked him off.

Chris fought the roll of his eyes as he focused on your goal-driven face, bucking into the drag of your palm as if he were truly fucking you, until the pressure in his abdomen became too much to bear.

“I’m gonna come, baby- Oh, god, yes- Y-Yeah, yeah-” His hand flew from the couch and wrapped around your own, angling his dick toward your chest with panted breaths, “I-I’m coming - I’m coming, f-fuck-”

The first splatter of cum landed directly on your neck, dripping its way toward your clavicle and between your breasts. Tilting your head back just a bit, you felt the warmth of his cum land around the curve of your neck, painting a shaky line of white against your skin with each shivering pass of your combined hands.

He let out a strained grunt as the last few drops dotted your cleavage, using your hand to thoroughly milk himself of the final remains before effectively melting into the couch with a worn sigh.

“So…” Giggling, you dropped your chin to get a better look at your exhausted boyfriend, “How do I look?”

Looking down, he noted the way his release seemed to follow the downward curve before either spilling down your collarbones or further filling out the line down your clavicle, adding a sort of teardrop design to your necklace.

“Honestly?” A breathless giggle escaped him as he reached his non-soiled hand out toward his phone, “How about I take a picture to show you, then we can work on adding some accessories to go with it.”

Safe to say, this wouldn’t be the last pearl necklace you’d receive from him.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[retromochi]

lovingly still drawing mlp redesigns in the year of our lord 2024 these are kind of for a very casual next gen au of mine, but honestly i just like imagining ponies in different ways :-) (more info + headcanons under the cut!)

fluttershy: - trans (she/her), sapphic, autistic - she's a deerpony mix, with her maternal grandmother being a deer and her maternal grandfather a pegasus. - has sensory issues with cutting her hair, so she's content to just let it be long. - has large wings, but not a lot of strength. she's better at gliding, and can't really get herself into the air very well. - tallest of the mane six. twilight: - nonbinary (they/she), bisexual, autistic - all ponies have magic in them that can give their bodies physical changes, with twilight being an extreme example. the star patterns on her chest appeared after wielding the elements of harmony for the first time, the stars on her hooves appeared after becoming an alicorn, and the yellow streak in her hair appeared after defeating tirek. - has fairly bad eyesight, but prefers using her glasses rather than using magic to fix her vision. - can't fly as fast as most pegasi, but has good endurance. - shortest of the mane six, although she's only barely shorter than rainbow. pinkie pie: - gnc (any pronouns, but loves being called sister), pansexual - her full name is rose quartz pie, in line with the rock and gemstone theme in her family, but pinkie was a nickname that just stuck. - chiffon swirl/mrs. cake is her maternal aunt, they have more in common than pinkie does with her mom, but pinkie loves them both equally. - her strength nearly rivals applejack, she has super strong legs from bouncing and jumping everywhere. applejack: - bigender (he/she), sapphic - inherited her father's hat and her mother's hairbands - all of the apple siblings have accessories left to them by their parents. - prefers going by AJ or jackie, only granny smith usually calls her by her full name. - ties up her hair when working, and keeps the fetlocks on her back hooves trimmed short.

rainbow dash: - nonbinary (he/she/they), queer, ADHD - like twilight, rainbow has extreme examples of her body changing with magic. her cutie mark got longer after performing each sonic rainboom, and the colors in her hair appeared after she got her cutie mark to begin with. - originally named bluejay dash, changed her name to match her new look. her parents still call her "jay" from time to time. - never quite shook the rainbow crash nickname, she's a great flier but not so great at landings. has a fair share of scrapes and bruises, but they dont bother her. rarity: - cis (she/her), omnisexual - part crystal pony on her dad's side, her mane and coat have a slight crystaline look to them in the right light. - changes her hairstyle a lot, but has it tied up when working in her studio. - crafts beautiful jewelry, in addition to her clothes and accessories.

[kiwi-bitchez]

Like Magic

Eddie Munson x Reader, 18+ mdni

Summary: Incredibly troupey enemies to lovers smut. The gang takes a trip together and a game of never-have-I-ever creates a new tension between you and Eddie. The classic "no one has ever made me come'' situation. A bit overused, but it still gets me every time. Hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, drinking (all characters are 21+), kind of Asshole!Eddie but not really, fingering, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), Eddie has a dick piercing because I said so, piv sex, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl this is just fanfiction, Eddie has big dick energy in this one, I said what I said, rough-ish sex but Eddie's def more of a soft dom here, a few pet names (princess, mostly), spelling/grammar mistakes, corny ending

Word count: 14k (oof… got a little carried away with this one besties)

Steve said it would be a getaway. A trip dedicated equal parts to celebrating Nancy's first big article getting published and to cheer Steve up after having been dumped by his most recent situationship. The former was the initial reason to take the trip but after finding out about Jessica or Jamie or whatever her name was you had a feeling the latter was the true motivator. Either way, Steve had found a cheap cabin up by a lake and had pitched the trip as a fun way to "get in touch with wilderness." You had a feeling it was going to be more drinking and board games than hiking and fishing, but that was fine by you. 

It was nice to put in for the time off from work and have something to look forward to. A week away with your friends. And Eddie. It's not that you didn't consider him a friend... well, you didn't. But it wasn't for lack of trying on your end. You'd use the term friendly acquaintance. A person with whom you share several close friends but for some reason refuses to be friendly to you- that kind of friendly acquaintance. Okay, maybe the word friendly was a bit of a stretch. 

There was an odd tension between the two of you that you couldn't quite figure out. When Robin had introduced you to her friends from high school, all staying very close over the years, you immediately hit it off with them, easily integrating yourself into their quirky dynamic. Even though Eddie sort of stuck out like a sore thumb among them, you never treated him any differently than you did Steve or Nancy. You liked that their group was so mismashed. You had made it a point to not to turn your nose up at him for any reason, expecting he typically got that reaction from those who didn't know him. At first you actually found him to be quite charming. 

There was just a certain coldness he had towards you that you found off putting. Knowing what little you did about him, entirely through Robin's introductory ramblings, you could understand why he might be wary of new people. It was that you had put in an effort to get to know him and be friendly that had upset you when he didn't return the sentiment. Not only did he treat you with a certain dry curtness, but he seemed so warm and loving to everyone else. He'd ruffle Robin's hair, bear hug Steve, share a cigarette with Nancy when she was especially stressed and tell some long winded story that had her cracking up and forgetting why she was ever tense in the first place. You didn't expect immediate closeness, but a little bit of that warmth from him would have been nice. 

The awkward tension between the two of you manifested as joking jabs that hit a little too close, sarcastic remarks and rolled eyes. If he was going to go out of his way to push your buttons, you had no problem doing the same. It never ruined the energy when you'd all hang out as a group, but it was an underlying feeling you could't ever seem to ignore, as much as you'd tried. So this trip was going to be a celebration for Nancy, a distraction for Steve, and a challenge for you. 

The cabin really was a great find to credit Steve. You had all pitched in a little money to cover the expenses and were pleasantly surprised when you found out there were actually enough beds for all of you, a half decent kitchen, hot water, nothing special but certainly nothing to complain about either. You had access to a small dock and a beat up canoe, a little fire pit out back, the basic necessities for a half decent vacation. That, supplemented with the box of booze Steve had lugged up from the car and all of your excitement to let loose was sure to make for a good trip, if not at least a memorable one. 

You had all scoped out the digs, poking around the shed outside and unloading all your stuff from the cars. You felt somewhat settled in and ready to slip into vacation mode right as the sun began to set. Steve and Nancy had taken care of bringing groceries for the week, unpacking a week's worth of dry pasta and snacks into the dusty pantry. Steve took it upon himself to cook a small meal for everyone in the kitchen, nothing fancy but still appreciated given the minimal kitchen setup, always the mom of the group. Eddie messily makes himself a rum and coke, offering Robin one as well and blatantly ignoring your presence. Not that you wanted a stupid rum and coke from him anyways. He hands her the drink and you avoid eye contact and push past him to fix a drink for yourself, quickly shuffling off to check if Steve needed any help in the kitchen. 

"Too many cooks in the kitchen, y/n," Steve places his hands on your shoulders and backs you out of the small space, "go relax, I think I can handle boiling pasta by myself." 

You were mostly trying to avoid the living room where Nancy, Robin, and Eddie were all settled, but Steve was right, the kitchen was far too small for you to be taking up space while he tries to cook for five. With a sigh you make the short journey over to the couch, wedging yourself next to Robin and quietly sipping on your drink, making a mental note to make the next one stronger. You easily fall into conversation, listening to Robin tell some story about when she and Steve used to work at an ice cream shop years ago, some exaggerated memory she kept referring to as "mint-chocolate-chip-gate," easily pulling laughs from all of you. 

Hours later, empty plates scattered around the small makeshift dining area, a few more drinks in your system, you had hardly thought about Eddie at all. You'd managed to avoid his snippy remarks for the majority of the evening, both relishing in the good feeling of the start of a week off. It was always when you felt the tension slip away that it came back harsher than ever. The five of you crowded around the small table, playing cards shuffled into a messy deck. Robin had started a never-have-I-ever game, although childish, still fun and silly as none of you took things too seriously. 

"Never have I ever," she searches her brain for something riveting, "faked an orgasm."

You and Nancy give her a fake-annoyed glance and take sips from your cups, not a huge surprise on anyone's part. 

"Not fair Rob," you say, looking up from your cup, "just because you only have sex with women doesn't mean you have to target those of us unfortunate enough to be attracted to men." You and Nancy laugh.

"Sounds like the unfortunate ones are the guys you're sleeping with," Eddie mumbles. You shoot daggers from your eyes at him, "I'm just saying, how can you expect it to be any good if you're not being honest."

"Fuck off," you roll your eyes, "I'm sure you've been on the receiving end of more than one faked orgasm, Munson, it's kind of a universal truth for all women."

"Well I don't know if I'd say that-" Nancy interjects, "universal truth is kind of a big claim."

"Never have I ever," Steve interrupts, clearly trying to change the conversation, "accidentally poured salt instead of sugar into my coffee while on a first date and was too embarrassed to say anything so I just drank the salty coffee and suffered in silence."

"Oh my god," you burst out, everyone giggling, "that was such a pointed attack! I'm never telling you anything ever again!" You take a sip from your drink, being the only person in the group who has experienced that oddly specific situation. 

"If you all are going to target me with the knowledge of friendship then I'm coming for all of your asses," you set down your drink and try to think of something that will surely get them to all drink, "Aha! I know, never have I ever had an orgasm during sex with a partner." Your mind was sort of still in the gutter from Robin's statement, and you knew for sure you'd get them all with this one, you knew that you were in a slim minority with that fact. It wasn't that you choose bad partners, well, that was sometimes part of it, but you just couldn't get to that place when someone else was doing it to you, only ever by yourself. You just figured it was a slight abnormality, and had resigned to a life of solo play and half decent but never truly fulfilling sexual encounters. 

Steve groans, annoyed you brought the conversation back to the sexual topics he had previously steered the group away from, taking a drink alongside everyone else. 

"Ha!" you gloat while everyone takes their long sips, "knew I'd get you all there. Keep trying to come for me with my oddly specific embarrassing stories and you'll all be sorry in the morning."

"I don't really think having a shit sex life is anything to brag about, y/n," Eddie snips at you. 

"I'm not bragging, it's the whole point of the game to get people to drink, stupid," you shoot back, starting to regret revealing that level of personal information to him. 

"Well maybe if you weren't so busy faking your orgasms you'd actually chill out for long enough to actually have one," he hurls back, the thick tension settling between the two of you.

"Jesus, Eddie, mind your own fucking business," you feel blood rushing to your face and your jaw tenses up. 

"You were the one who brought it up, sweetheart," you hated how calm his voice still was, raising his hands up in fake defense, "never have I ever NOT made my partner come."

"Oh fuck off," your voice was seething, "you can't say that. There's, like, no definitive way to prove that's even true!"

"No, I'm pretty sure I know it's true," he was so fucking smug and it annoyed you to no end.  

"OKAY," Steve breaks the awkward silence that had settled around the rest of the group, "I want to play cards, what do we think? Cards? Anyone?"

'Yeah, whatever,'' you felt bad if you had accidentally ruined the fun everyone was having, but it wasn't your fault Eddie decided to be such a dick about it. You help Steve shuffle the cards and start dealing, letting the heated energy dissipate around you as you wiggled your way back into normal conversation with everyone.

Several rounds of cards and a few drinks later the night took hold of the group and sent Nancy off to bed, Robin off to search for some advil that she knew she'd be grateful for in the morning, and Steve mostly asleep slumped in his chair at the table. You gently shook him awake and he grumbled a thank you and a goodnight as he dragged his body down the hall to his bed. This left you and Eddie with a half decent mess between the drinks, the aftermath of dinner, and the cards. He had started to gather the cards back into their deck while you debated on taking care of the dishes or putting it off until morning, ultimately deciding that tomorrow-you would be very thankful if tonight-you sucked it up and just cleaned up now. 

"I got the rest," you start picking up everyones mostly empty cups and moving into the kitchen to tackle the mountain of dishes. Jeez Steve, how many pots does it take to boil pasta for five people? "Night, see you tomorrow," you say without turning back to look at Eddie. 

He came up next to you and grabbed the dry towel off the counter, taking the soapy cup from your hand and wiping it away before stacking it on a clear part of the countertop. 

"You wash, I'll dry, yeah?" he's already moved onto the next plate you had sponged down.

"It's really fine Eddie, I've got it," you appreciate the sentiment, but didn't like feeling so cramped standing with him in the small kitchen. 

"I have manners, you know," he makes a harsh gesture to the dishes, urging you to get on with washing, which you do, "plus I'm not gonna let you take all the credit for cleaning up after everyone, you aren't anyone's mother or maid here." 

You weren't really sure how to take that, but decided to ignore it as you continued to scrub away, silently handing him the dripping dishes as you finished cleaning them. 

"I know you don't really care for me," you start, feeling the need to fill the awkward silence between you, "but can we please not make Steve and them regret inviting us both? Like, I know you're capable of being civil. I just really don't want to spend this whole trip walking on eggshells worrying that we're ruining the fun. So, this is me apologizing for anything I do this upcoming week that pisses you off for whatever reason, just know I didn't do it on purpose, and it's not worth freaking out over. I'm just trying to have a good time here, that's all."  

You really couldn't tell if you felt relieved or more anxious after saying all that to him. You meant it. You really didn't want to drag any unnecessarily tense baggage around with you while everyone was just trying to enjoy their trip. You wanted him to know this, at least to feel like the blame was off your back if he was a dick to you, at least you tried to clear the air on night one. 

"What? Still got your panties in a bunch over that game?" you didn't have to look over at him to hear the smirk in his voice, "Because I remember you were the one getting all in a huff about it."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," you turn over sharply to look at him, "please just stop being such an asshole to me."

"Learn to take a joke, sweetheart," he had been drying the same mug for a little too long now, "that stick up your ass is probably the reason you can't reach the big O."

"Please, for the love of god, fuck off," you tried to not raise your voice too much given everyone's sleeping state, "What do you want me to say? Hmmm? 'Oh Eddie, I'm so jealous of all those girls you make come with your magical guitar fingers, oooooooooh, please pick me'." You roll your eyes and prepare to storm off to bed when his whole posture shifts in front of you. 

"Magical guitar fingers? Hmmm?" he's really making you regret saying that, even sarcastically, you start putting the rags away, wanting to just finish up the dishes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. "You said it babe, not me."

"You're so insufferable," you bring your fingers to your temple, Eddie Muson manifesting as a special form of personal headache.

"This is exactly what I'm saying," he mockingly gestures to you, "you're the one always getting so worked up over nothing, I'm as cool as a cucumber, I think the problem might be you."

"Is everything a fucking joke to you? Can you really not be serious for three fucking seconds while I try to be straight with you about us getting along on this trip?" Your grip on the dish towel tightening. 

"Me? Joking? About something so serious and romantic as having precious y/n her first orgasm with my 'magical guitar fingers' that she so obviously fantasizes about? I would never." He clasps his hands across his chest, always the fucking jester. 

In a moment of white hot rage, and wanting to put him in his place, and only a tiny fraction fueled by your physical attraction to him, as much as you've tried to fight that off, you march the three steps in between the two of you and grab his wrist in your hand, holding his hand up in between the two of you.

'Fine, do it then," you maintain harsh eye contact with him, your faces only a few inches apart, "you won't. Better yet, I don't even think you could." 

For the first time, you felt as if you had the upper hand, you had never rendered him speechless before. He always had some snippy comeback to everything you said, at a rapid fire pace that was honestly impressive given how subtly clever his remarks were. 

"You wanna bet?" He cocks his head at you, trailing behind just a beat slower than he normally would. 

You just raise your eyebrows and glance down at his hand, still in your grasp, lips pursed and voice secretly caught in your throat. 

"You just say the word," he starts, voice slightly softening, "and I bet you that I can make you come using just this hand- scratch that, just these three fingers," he lowers his pointer and pinky, leaving his middle two and thumb sticking up, "in less than five minutes right here in this goddamn kitchen."

"Yeah, for what?" were you seriously considering this? Why were your thighs clenching together? 

"I make you come, and not only do I get to live in your memory forever as the first idiot who had the sense to make you finish, but you're gonna be so sweet to me the rest of the trip. Make my drinks, fetch my lighter, roll all my joints with those cute little dexterous fingers of yours, be nothing but pleasant and lovely without the slightest hint of attitude." His words made you fume, but you were also inexplicably turned on, his breath fanning across your face as he spoke sending tingles down your spine. 

"And when you can't, what then?" you tried to match his level of composure, but the gleam in his eye told you that he saw straight through your facade. 

"If-" he starts, "you manage to hold out on me and I can't get that pretty pussy of yours to gush all over my super magical talented guitar fingers, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the trip. We never bring it up again, or you can tease me about it for the rest of our lives, totally up to you. But I'll be so civil and polite you'll hardly recognize me the rest of this trip."

You let your grasp fall from his wrist, holding your unsteady hand out to him to shake, "Deal." 

He truly thought you were bluffing up until this point. When you had first met he had been impressed with how sharp you were, how you managed to meet his level of sarcasm so easily. At least he thought you had been sarcastic, after a few fumbled interactions he got the vibe that you weren't joking around with him in the jabby-playful way he was. If he was honest wit himself, he knew he sort of used this as a defense mechanism when meeting new people. Put up the walls and if they didn't like him, that was just fine.

The tension in the air was as thick as it had ever been between the two of you. You refused to break eye contact, refused to let him win. As much as you'd like to think this would be an easy way to put an end to his snarky attitude, there was no denying that a large part of you was excited, if not intrigued at the prospect of him touching you like that. Eddie was hot, you had never denied that. But the butterflies in your stomach and slight buckle of your knees indicated a little bit more than surface level attraction. 

Breaking the handshake he takes a few purposeful steps forward, backing you against the nearest counter. He places a hand on either side of your body, caging you in, leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear, voice low and raspy. 

"We doing this, babe? You say the word and I'll let it go now, but otherwise I'm gonna need you to unbutton those cute jeans for me."

There was no way in hell you were turning back at this point. You try to give him your best 'fuck you' expression and say, "Can't even unbutton my pants, how the hell are you gonna make me come?" Regardless, you follow his request and unbutton your pants, and better yet, slip them down your legs to let them pool at your feet.

You were still locked in between his arms against the counter, closer than you had ever been to him. As your pants hit the floor, you notice his gaze flicker down to get a look at you, then quickly back up to your face. All the while he had shifted over slightly, arm now fiddling with a dial on the stovetop. He was setting a timer, cocky bastard. He adjusts the stovetop cook timer to five minutes and casually hits the enter button, as if he had nothing to prove, as if the few extra seconds meant nothing to him. 

He brings his attention back to you, knowing you were fully aware of the timer he had just set. Rather than plunging his hand straight into your already dampening underwear, his first move was surprisingly to bend down slightly and cup the backside of your knee, lifting one foot out of the pant leg that was scrunched around your ankles. From the crook of your knee, his hand slowly moved up your thigh, giving it a squeeze, acting as if he wasn't on any sort of time constraint. As promised, once he reaches your underwear he only uses one of the three promised fingers, running the tip of his middle digit along the top elastic of your panties, quirking an eyebrow, looking at you for one last assurance of consent before the two of you crossed the line. You give him a curt nod, knowing what his questioning glance meant, and with that he dips his hand into your simple cotton underwear. 

Once again, you almost expected him to just shove his fingers inside of you and get on with it, but he took several long moments to run his middle two fingers up and down your slit, never entering your hole, but collecting some of your wetness and dragging it up to massage the hood of your clit gently. You wouldn't have been surprised if the oven timer went off at any given moment. It felt like he had been touching you for far longer than five minutes, despite only forty seconds having been passed. He continued to gently roll your clit between his fingers, placing one on either side of your bud and just letting them slowly massage it back and forth. 

You were slowly losing control of your composure. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction, but a shallow gasp that you were sure he noticed escaped you. You mentally prepared yourself for a comment from him, a chuckle or signature smirk. Eddie never shut the fuck up, you wouldn't have been surprised if that was true in the bedroom too, or in this case, the kitchen. What did surprise you was the breathy "Good girl, that's it" he mumbled into the side of your face as he increased the pressure of his fingers ever so slightly, "just like that, relax for me, doing so well."

Fuck. 

Your body responded to his words before your mind could make the conscious decision to, and you melted back into the countertop slightly with an exhale. His foot wedged in between your legs slowly slid them open a bit more, letting his ripped denim clad leg settle in between yours, his hand sinking a bit lower and slowly entering you with just his middle finger. The hand that wasn't occupied with your pussy gently came down to toy with the band of your still-on underwear, gently tugging them down as he managed to slip his second finger into you. 

"That's it," he began to curl them ever so slightly, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him, "your pussy's so pretty, so good, sucking my fingers right in." 

His two middle fingers were sunk all the way into you, and he was moving them in a way that had you involuntarily drop your jaw and let shallow whimpers out with every roll and thrust. This was entirely different than anything you had ever experienced before. Up until now, 'getting fingered' for you was an annoyingly uncomfortably forplay where your partner would shove a hand in and out too fast just to make sure you were wet enough to proceed with the act. Eddie wasn't even bringing his fingers out of you, he settled them in and wiggled them around until he noticed your breath catch, and just let them push into this spot that you didn't know you had. Your own fingers never could reach that deep and his were filling you perfectly, thumb toying with your clit, not too hard, but just enough to add to the sensation. Damn, he was good at this.

When his fingers finally hit that new spot inside you your body reacted with a subtle roll forward of your hips and your head fell back to rest against the cabinets, eyes fluttering shut on their own accord. "Mmm, there it is," his voice was still gentle against your ear as he continued to make you gasp and squirm, "anyone ever find this pretty little spot inside you before?" He let his fingers slide all the way out of you, spreading some wetness from your hole up to your clit with a few circular motions before sinking back down inside you. 

You were biting the inside of your lip, no longer trying to hide your reactions from him, but trying to keep them quiet enough to not wake anyone in the cabin up. You wouldn't dare answer his questions out loud in your state, but you give him a quick shake of your head to indicate that, no, no one had ever touched you quite like this before. 

"Such a fucking shame," he increased the pressure on your clit, not increasing speed at all, but just curling his fingers a little harder, swirling his thumb a bit more deliberately, "bet you'd make such gorgeous noises for me too, can't have anyone wake up and find us like this though, yeah? Those pretty little whimpers are for me only."

Why were his words doing more to you than his hands? Not that you had any complaints about the care and attention he was giving your center, but his face pressed so close to you, letting out sweeter words than you had ever heard from him, that was what was making your walls tighten around his two fingers. Your mind had completely slipped away from the timer, no longer questioning whether you had three seconds or three minutes left, all you could do was feel. 

There was a soft squelching coming from where his hand made contact with your pussy, wetness coating his fingers and spreading to your thighs with each of his shallow thrusts. While you would typically feel a little embarassed, hearing your own arousal only turned you on more, that along with Eddie's soft "mmmm, that's it" and "good fucking girl." 

You were starting to feel it, that familiar tightening. Familiar, but so different from when you got yourself there. It was the difference of jumping into water versus being pushed in. When you jump in yourself, you have time to build up the courage and the cold water is less of a surprise and more of an inevitability. This was as if someone had thrown you over their shoulder and could fling you in at any moment, entirely out of your control. You feel your head start to spin, your walls start to tighten. 

Before you could let the tightening band in your lower half snap, any thought of purposely holding back and trying to not come for the sake of the bet was far gone, he takes his unoccupied hand and harshly tugs on your chin. Your head had started to roll back, pressing against the cabinets for support, eyes fluttering shut as you almost reached your peak. You were jolted back to reality as he cups your jaw and forces your head to stay upright. 

"Eyes open," your impending orgasm teetering right on the edge, you would do anything he said in this moment, "you're going to keep your eyes open and look at me while I make you come." His words with a few more expert swipes of his thumb against your throbbing clit had you gasping for air. It was truly unlike any orgasm you had ever experienced. 

You tried your best to follow his directions, keeping your eyes as open as you could, maintaining eye contact with him through your high as your mouth dropped open and your moans caught in your throat, silently shaking and thriving as the tension in your body eased out in waves of pleasure. His gaze burned into you, fingers keeping such a steady and consistent pace as you rode out your peak. Mumbled phrases escaped him and only made your orgasm last that much longer. Why the fuck was Eddie Munson calling you "pretty girl" making your legs shake? This shouldn't be happening. That had never been a turn on before, none the less coming from a man you typically found insufferable. 

With the last pulse of your walls you found yourself acting on pure adrenaline, you completely blame the endorphins for your next action. His hand was still firmly planted on the side of your head and your thoughts were spinning so fast, you had to ground yourself, and your body decided that lurching forward and kissing Eddie was how you were going to do that. Fingers still slowly rolling inside of you, thumb now coming to rest on your overstimulated clit, he was taken aback by your action, but leaned into the kiss and swiped his wet tongue through your bitten swollen lips as you melted into him. As soon as you felt fully entangled in him, completely consumed by his hands, mouth, scraggly hair, all of him. You jerked back, quickly apologizing, "Fuck, uh, sorry, I-" 

He slowly drags his hand out of your drenched thighs as you try to find words, bringing his two fingers up between his lips to suck them clean. You wanted to moan out at the sight but were still scrambling to figure out what the fuck just happened. He casually leans over and pauses the oven timer with a beep.

"Hey, 4:20, nice!" you roll your eyes at his immature comment, "we have forty more seconds on the clock, wanna go again?" he jokes. 

You were so far beyond caring about this bet, you had way bigger issues to tackle than having to wait hand and foot on Eddie for the rest of this trip. You awkwardly pull up your wet panties and readjust your pants around your legs, not sure what to do or say. 

"Was that good? Better than when you do it yourself?" he asks, sarcasm indetectable in his voice but you were sure it had to be there.

"Do you actually care to know or do you just want to hear me say it? Fine Eddie, you win. You have magical sex fingers and made me come in like three minutes, congratulations. It was great, the best orgasm of my life. You were right, you told me so." 

"Well that's great to hear and all but I wasn't looking for an ego boost or anything, babe," his tone was lighthearted and you weren't expecting it, "I just know it's like wayyyy different for me when its my hand versus another person, not to mention the difference between all the holes and whatnot."

"Gross!" you laugh and scrunch up your nose, not noticing how he was pouring you a glass of water. 

"I'm just saying!" He holds his hands up defensively as he silently hands the cup to you, "I've never experienced a female orgasm so I just wanted to know if it was any different than when you use the showerhead."

"Oh my god I-" you start, in between gulps of water.

"Oh, don't even start," he cuts you off, "we both know that all girls do that, don't try and be all shy with me now babe, I know what your 'oh' face looks like."

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks and you bury your gaze down into your almost empty glass of water. "Yeah Eddie, it was different and it was better. Your fingers rank higher than the jet setting of my shower head, do you want a trophy?" This sort of banter usually had a sharper edge to it between you, but there was a new softness and humor to the way you communicated. Maybe he was just being nice because he felt bad for you, because you were so desperate that you came from three fingers on a kitchen counter in less time than most top forty radio hits. 

"I'm glad it was good for you," he says, almost sincerely, "night sweetheart." With that he turned around and exited the kitchen, keeping his composure all the way down the hall until he could burst into his room, rid himself of his clothes, and pull his cock at the thought of how you felt wrapped around his fingers, the little whimpers and noises you made, how you looked right at him as you came, how you kissed him afterwards. 

You were left somewhat dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the kitchen with an empty cup in your hands, looking around as if something else was going to happen. You weren’t expecting him to invite you back to his bed for a cuddle or anything like that, but you had just experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life followed up by some joking conversation and a friendly cup of water? It just didn't feel right. Then again, who the fuck has their first orgasm from someone else while being timed. 

You didn't regret it though. You actually felt a sense of relief. While you were pretty aware that your past sexual partners had been a bit selfish or underwhelming, a part of you had always wondered if that part of you was broken. If there was a part of your brain that would never let you reach that vulnerable state at the hands of someone else. That you would only ever trust yourself to let go and feel that kind of pleasure. Nope. Not broken. Definitely not broken. 

You feel like you're in a trance as you walk back to your room, shower, slip into pajamas and drift off to sleep. You started to wonder how the energy would be between you and Eddie in the morning, but as soon as you gave it any thought your brain decided it was time to shut down. You'd deal with it when it happened. 

Your head still felt cloudy the next morning, processing the sexual high and confusing social situation you now found yourself in. You knew one thing for sure, you'd never be able to look at Eddie again without thinking about last night. Suddenly the thought of him playing guitar, shuffling a deck of cards, smoking a joint, all felt inherently sexual to you despite never having that connotation before. You were fucked. 

What's even worse is when you tried to rub one out in the shower to ease some of your nerves before going downstairs for coffee all you could think of was comparing how your hand felt to Eddie's. It's like he put a stupid curse on you, that all your orgasms would now feel half hearted. It's like you were hungry and were served a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when you could smell a chef preparing a five star meal in the room over. Sure, a PB&J is fine, but now that you've had fine dining it just didn't quite cut it. On top of that your newly corrupted brain couldn't help but theorize about what else Eddie was capable of. He made you come in basically four minutes with three fingers. As soon as you let your mind wander you pull yourself out of it, make the shower as cold as your body can stand, and gear up to face the music, or at least put on an awkward front in front of all of your friends. 

You were the first person in the kitchen, but you heard a fair amount of shuffling going on around the creaky cabin so you suspect your friends will be down soon. You take it upon yourself to put on a full pot of coffee and survey the pantry for breakfast options. 

"Morning, y/n," Steve greets you passively, eyes clearly set on the coffee that's almost done brewing. 

"Oh wow, did you do the dishes last night?" Nancy inquires, her and Robin taking their places at the table while everyone waits for the coffee to finish. 

"Oh yeah, it was nothing. Eddie and I did it, only took like five minutes," you wince at yourself.

"Were the two of you up real late?" Steve questions, "I tried to get him up a minute ago but he was knocked out." 

"Oh," you start, relying on pouring coffee to everyone as an excuse to not make any eye contact, "I'm not really sure, we were only really up for like ten, twenty minutes after you all went to bed. Maybe he stayed up late in his room." None of it was a lie. 

"Whatever, let him sleep this beautiful day away," Steve's whole demeanor changed after a single sip of caffeine, "I say we go down to the dock and check out that canoe, maybe have lunch on the dock? Could be nice." 

A murmur of agreement among the group settled the plans for the day, relaxing by the lake, doing exactly what you had intended this trip to be about. You all scarfed down quick breakfast and coffee and separated to change into swimwear. You hated that you thought of Eddie as you picked out your swimsuit. Did he even see you like that? When he called you pretty last night, was that all part of an act to win some stupid bet? You'd be better off assuming so, you decide, you don't want to get wrapped up in your own thoughts about how he thinks of you only to be totally wrong. But you secretly did hope that he'd check you out at least once.

You sprawled out on a big towel on the rickety dock, letting Robin, Nance, and Steve figure out the canoe. It didn't look like it could comfortably for more than two, and three was pushing it, so you decided to sit this one out considering the lake water looked a little murky. You set yourself up comfortably with a glass of lemonade and a book you were halfway through, letting the sun sink into your skin and illuminate the pages as you squinted at the words through the sunshine. You could hear their friendly bickering off in the distance, their canoe now a tiny speck off on the horizon of the lake. You could occasionally hear Robin shriek as Steve threatened to tip them all over. 

You felt the dock creek behind you before he said anything, not bothering to turn around from your comfortable position, knowing it couldn't be anyone but Eddie. He made his way down to your towel, inviting himself to plop down next to you and dip his toes into the lake below. He was only in his boxers and a ratty tshirt, a mostly full cup of black coffee sloshing around in the mug he held.

He made you nervous, not sure what the energy would be like between the two of you now. You almost felt worried that nothing would have changed at all. You ignored the buzzing in your abdomen and kept your eyes on your book as he kicked up the lakewater and sipped his coffee next to you, seeming comfortable in your mutual silence. 

“Reading anything good?” you knew he’d be the one to break the silence, ever the chatty Cathy. You were surprised at the genuine question rather than a smart remark or joke at your expense. 

You told him what you thought of your current read, filling him in a bit on the general plot. Part of you decided that you no longer had the right to give him the edge you usually did. He had won the upper hand fair and square and you were willing to accept that. You could play nice, play by his rules. 

You felt like your conversation was going well, or well enough. He asked to see your book, which you willfully handed over. You’d regret doing that. He dog-eared the page you were on and quickly set your book off to the back of the deck before moving at lightning speed and scooping you up and hurling you through the air and into the lake water. What the actual fuck was his problem. 

Before you could even register the cold lake water you emerge from your splash and gasp for air. You don’t even have a moment to find where the dock is to cuss him out before you see his cannonballed form fly above you and crash into the lake next to you. His shirt and coffee were abandoned with your book and he emerged from the water with that stupid goofy smile. 

That stupid goofy smile that made you less mad that he had thrown you in the lake. What was wrong with you? You should be pissed. Why did his annoying antics suddenly make you feel giggly? You knew exactly why, but wouldn't allow yourself to think about it for longer than a moment. 

“Eddie you bitch!” you splash him as soon as you can locate him and that stupid smile. You couldn’t help but smile too. He knew you wouldn’t stay mad. The two of you play-wrestle for a moment, splashing each other and taking turns pushing the other under the lake’s surface.

“I was reading,” you continue to protest. 

“And now you’re swimming!” He splashes you again, “We’re on a lake trip, y/n, not a library trip.”

You debated swimming out to where the canoe was, but mutually decided that sounded like too much work. Instead you took turns jumping off the dock and diving down to the bottom of the lake for rocks and other random junk. Eddie even found an old boat anchor. 

Once the other three came in from their canoe adventure you all ate packed sandwiches for lunch in the sunshine on the dock. You couldn’t help but take in the moment, knowing you'd be nostalgic for it in the future. You were surrounded by some of your best friends without a care in the world, only focused on pb&j sandwiches and who was going to make the fire later. 

After a backyard bonfire and several failed attempts at roasting hot dogs on sticks you all started to slow down and let the day in the sun take you to bed. You showered the feeling of lakewater off your skin and out of your hair with lots of soap and as hot of water as the cabin would allow. You thought you’d cozy up in bed and read some more of your book, or even crash right to sleep, but a nagging feeling kept pulling at you. 

As sleepy as you wanted to be, and as interesting as your book was, your mind couldn’t pull itself away from the idea of what Eddie was doing down the hall. It was late enough that the others were probably asleep, you probably should be too. After rereading the same sentence four times you decided to abandon your book and just follow your curiosities. 

Before your better judgment could stop you, you lightly knocked at Eddie’s door and cracked it open. You peek around the sturdy wooden door to see him propped up on the headboard, shirtless with a giant book in his lap. His lean chest and arms were littered with random tattoos, nothing you hadn't seen before swimming or when he wore those unbuttoned and ripped up shirts that he often did, but this time you couldn't help but stare at them. 

“Sure just come right in,” he comments with a joking tone as you peek around the corner of his door. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you half whisper through gritted teeth, “I just-” 

You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You just what? Were curious about what he was doing? Wanted to see him? Wanted to know what he would say if you came to his room?

To your surprise he shifts to the side of his bed and opens a space next to him, lifting the sheet that covers his lower half and patting the space next to him. Your eyes widened in surprise a bit before you moved a bit too enthusiastically across the room and settled onto the mattress next to him. 

“Hope I’m not bothering you,” you start, genuinely feeling bad if you were intruding. 

“You? Not at all. I’ve only read The Lord of the Rings eighty times or so,” he turns over the enormous book in his lap. 

“Wow, I didn’t know you could read,” you immediately felt bad, but knew your tone was joking enough to be permissible. 

“Very funny,” he sets the book on his nightside table, turning his attention to you. You suddenly felt a spotlight on you, a sudden stage to explain the reason you showed up in his room. Truthfully you didn’t have one. Or, you didn’t have the words to tell him why. 

“I-” you start, noticing how small your voice sounded, “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Is that so?” He looked genuinely surprised. 

“Yeah, I just-” you still don’t know where you’re going with this, “I just wanted to apologize if I ever gave you the impression that I didn’t like you. I know we kind of go back and forth a lot, but I never really meant to make you feel like I dislike being around you. I just want to start over with you, if that’s okay?”

“Is this because you know all the rumors about my magic guitar fingers are true,” he smirked and leaned his head into yours, an action that would typically make your blood boil that you now found endearing. 

“No- well yes- but no,” you couldn’t help but be flustered, finding yourself fidgeting with the hem of his sheet that you had tucked your feet under, knees pushed up against your chest, “I just thought that things were going to be really awkward between us today, or that you were going to be a huge asshole to me. But I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been fair to you, and maybe you weren’t fair to me either, so it would be nice to start over?”

“Do you want to start over right now, or do you want to start over, including last night?” He already knew that even if the two of you ‘started over’ neither of you could forget, or even pretend to forget what had transpired in the kitchen. You let out a sigh. You were thinking the same thing.

“Up to yout,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ll leave and never bring it up again, but I can't pretend like I haven’t been thinking about it since it happened.”

“Is that so?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Shut up, you know it is,” you bump his shoulder with yours. 

“Is it because you touched yourself and realized it didn’t feel the same?” his voice grew deeper, and you could feel his gaze pressing into the side of your face, “or because you imagined it was my fingers between those pretty legs of yours.”

You couldn’t help your head from falling back against his headboard and eyes to find solace in the ceiling before gathering the courage to answer him. His face was already inches from your neck, all you needed to do was close the gap, but a part of you was still worried. 

You look tentatively into his eyes, big and brown and drawing you in, but you don't let yourself lean in all the way. You had initiated the first kiss between you two last night in the kitchen and had been shaken with worry that you had crossed a line. You didn't want to embarrass yourself again, so you held back. What if he thought that was too intimate? You hoped he didn't. Even though it had left you tense and anxious, kissing him was just as memorable as the orgasm he had given you. You remembered how his mouth tasted, how he slipped his tongue past your lips immediately, how you didn't have to think about anything other than how he was making you feel. 

Eddie, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were thinking. He knew that he'd left you a bit high and dry last night. If he was being honest, he wanted to stay in that kitchen and kiss you over and over, offering to take you to bed, his bed. He left for two reasons: he wanted to maintain whatever aura of mystery and intrigue he had garnered by making you feel so good, the tensions were high and it felt right to keep the game up, Eddie enjoyed the cat and mouse, back and forth that the two of you had, and this had taken it to an incredibly fun and elevated state, and he had to leave to release his cock from the confines of his pants. If he was going to fuck you, he was going to fuck you right, and if you had stayed in that kitchen any longer he would have either busted in his pants or promptly three seconds after you made any sort of move on him.

He knew you were nervous. That you found him hard to read and unpredictable. That's probably why the two of you never really got along, and he knew it. He knew that the orgasm he gave you was the most pleasure you had ever felt, and that you hadn't stopped thinking about it for a moment since. It was written all over your face. He couldn't blame you. If he had never had the pleasure of climaxing during sex or at the hands of another person he surely would be in a spell over it too. He knew you needed to be taken care of, and that he had proved himself to be trustworthy of doing so. 

While you were caught in your own head debating whether Eddie would kiss you or not, it only takes him a split second to crane his neck around to meet your face and catch your lips in a kiss backed by purpose and intent. He knew how to read your body language. Eddie grew up worrying what everyone around him was thinking of him, or what they were planning to do to him/ He knew how to tell when someone was angry or upset or disgusted. An arch of an eyebrow or a twitch of a hand could mean the smallest things, things that always came back to bite Eddie. He also could tell that your breath was caught in your throat and you were overthinking still, he knew to let the kiss linger for a moment and let you find your footing before deepening it.

The moment he feels your shoulders relax a bit and your head lean ever so slightly into his, he cups the sides of your neck with his hands. Those hands. Littered with tiny stick and poke tattoos and those clunky metal rings. Who the fuck wears jewelry to bed? You had taken note of how his rings had felt shoved down the front of your underwear the night prior, and now you relished in how the distinct metal felt against the soft skin under your jaw. 

Last night you kissed him in the heat of the moment. Now he was kissing you. Really kissing you. Tugging on your bottom lip and running his tongue across yours until your stomach felt like you were on the dip of a roller coaster. Kissing you until you were breathless and your cheeks began to run hot, until you couldn't tell whose tongue was whose, or could hardly remember where you were or what time it was. You would have traded every sexual experience you'd had for what he did to you in the kitchen last night, and you'd trade every kiss up until now for the one you found yourself in. 

His hands were in your hair, and his lips moved from yours, now wet and pouty, down to your neck. He kissed, licked, nipped, sucked against your skin, gently tugging your hair in the direction he wanted to open your neck up for him. When his bottom teeth dragged across a particular spot in between your jaw and ear a soft moan escaped your lips. You immediately sucked in a sharp breath.

"MmmHmmm," he mumbles into you, still attacking that spot that had elicited the noise, "let me hear you."

You let out a groan and moved to straighten your neck, wanting his mouth on yours again. The hand in your hair kapt you exactly where he wanted though, now using a touch more force. 

"You wanna know a secret?" the hand not in your hair ran up and down your rib cage underneath your shirt, trailing from the band of your pants up to the underside of your breast and then gently back down, "Do you know what you do to me?"

"Mmmm, no what?" you could hardly recognize your own voice, now pitched up and airy. 

"Those pretty noises you made for me, and the thought of you wrapped around my fingers has been driving me crazy all day, y/n. Do you know what I thought about while I jerked off last night? Those moans, and that pretty cunt you have, and the gorgeous face you made when I got you there. It's all I can see when I look at you now. It made me come so fucking hard last night and it's gonna take a lot of time and illegal substances to make me forget it." 

You wiggled your hips up into his touch, wanting him to move faster but knowing he was going to take everything at his pace whether you liked it or not. "Fuck Eddie," he sucked on your earlobe and continued to bite against your soft skin, "you think I'm pretty?" You sounded fucking pathetic, you wouldn't have caught yourself dead asking any boy that, let alone Eddie before tonight. 

"Pretty? I think those little moans you make are pretty. And that cunt you have, prettiest I've ever seen. That little bikini you had on today, that was pretty too. You wear that for me?"

"Maybe," you gasp out as his hand dared to venture lower, still over your pajama pants but dipping up and down where he knew your wet slit was. 

"Sure, lots of things about you are plenty pretty, but fuck," he loved how responsive you were, already rolling your hips against his hand despite the layers of fabric preventing you from getting what you really wanted, "You? you really are somethin' else." 

He could tell you were tired of his teasing, so in between kisses he tugs your shirt up and lets you pull it over your head. He presses your warm skin against his, using all his strength to stay in the moment and feel how nice your tits feel squished up against him, rather than immediately ravish you. He'll get to that, he knows you deserve his patience. 

“Just-” you gathered your thoughts, “tell me you want me too, that this isn’t some sort of power trip or pity fuck. I don’t want it if this is some game to you.”

His heart sank a bit at your inquiry, worried that you thought of last night as some sort of power trip for him, although that was what the two of you had framed it as, a power play. He knew there was something deeper and hoped you had felt that too.

“Of course I want you. As much as it was nice to put you in your place, you brat, I didn't make you come to prove anything. I made you come because I wanted to.” 

“Will you do it again?” your voice was barely a wiper, your neck craning around to meet his intense gaze. 

“Again with my fingers,” he shifted so you were now slumped beneath him, his leg slotting comfortably between yours and his hands coming to cup your cheeks, shoulders angled above yours and hair creating a perfect curtain around your faces, “and my tongue, and my cock,” he leaned down to kiss you, “and all the other ways you’ll let me show you.”

You were a mess. A puddle of arousal and swarming thoughts of nothing but Eddie. Your hands flew up to tangle themselves in his beautiful curls, massaging the nape of his strong neck. The most passionate and enthusiastic kiss you had ever participated in. You were on fire for him. Any former doubt or worry that the actions of last night had on you dissipated into the air along with the breathy moans you couldn’t help but let out in between kisses and touches. 

His knee pushed your thighs apart and you willingly splayed yourself out like a ragdoll for him to move and manipulate under him however he pleased. Before you could focus on his hands dipping into your underwear, he bit at your lower lip and pulled back, causing you to crane your neck and chase after his lips as he moved away. You were about to pout about the loss of contact, but his fingers dipping through your wet folds were plenty distracting. He sits back a bit to focus on pulling down your pants and underwear while still stroking you with his opposite hand.

You were too busy squirming under him, both from his slow methodical fingers against your cunt and a half hearted attempt to kick off your garments that were now pushed around your knees to notice his unwavering gaze that raked over your newly exposed body. His resolve was about to break, along with the dam that held back his desire and excitement to feel every inch of you, to make you feel good, to be the first person to make you feel good. He had always thought you were gorgeous, but picking fights is a lot easier than trying to flirt so he settled for riling you up the only way he thought he could. 

He swats backwards to assist you in removing your final articles of clothing which are caught on your ankles, and as he leans back forward into you he sinks two thick fingers into you with a smirk on his face. It was a sudden stretch, but you'd be lying if you said you weren’t wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance. Your eyes want to squeeze shut, but you can't help but keep your sight locked on the shit eating grin that spreads across Eddie's face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He had made you fall apart in just over four minutes last night, and now he was going to take his time and have his fun with you. How could he not? You were so responsive to him, whimpering and writhing with every small movement, muscles tensing and your perfect lips parting open every time he curled his fingers upwards or brushed your clit with his palm. 

He swoops down to give your tits some attention, and you let yourself tangle your fingers into his unruly curls. Between licks and nips he mumbles into your skin, "so fuckin' perfect" and  "doing so good for me." He can feel your walls squeezing his fingers, soaking his palm, so he slows his roll a bit, wanting to draw you out a bit longer. You wanted to pull him up for a kiss, but he was deeply concentrating on sucking the perfect purple hickey to the underside of your breast. You could have sworn you heard "mine" come out of his mouth in between sucks and heavy breathing, but you couldn't be sure. 

Once he released your skin with a wet pop, you tugged at his hair to beg for a kiss. Eddie liked you all whiney and desperate for him though, so he just lets you tug on his hair as hard a you want as he continues moving down your body, teeth dragging across your ribcage, his hot flat tongue licking a stripe across your hip bone just before blowing a stream of cool air across the new wet trail. All the while his fingers slowly rolled inside of you, making this delicious wiggling motion that had you feeling full and seeing stars. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, taking a mental picture of how hot it was that your slick had soaked him down to his rings. Before you can sit up with any sort of protest, he cups his hands on the backs of your thighs and pushes forward to effectively fold you in half. Your head perks up, about to inform him that he is wildly overestimating your flexibility, he cuts you off. 

"Just lay back," his hands run up and down from your inner knees down to your ass and back up, "lay back and let me make you feel good, you can do that for me, yeah?"

"Yeah okay," you breathe out as he places a tender kiss to the part of your thigh just under your bent knee, a part of you that had never had any sexual connotation before, and now the feeling of his lips were permanently seared into the skin there. 

The last thing you caught sight of before your eyes rolled into the back of your head was Eddie spitting straight onto your pussy, not that it wasn't wet enough already, and immediately going in to lick a fat stripe up the middle of your center. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he repeated the action, his grip on the meat of your thighs tightening and leaving fingerprint sized indents. He attached his lips to your clit and rolled it against his tongue in a way that you had never experienced. 

Sure, you'd been on the receiving end of head before, but not like this. It had always been a 'hey, I just need to make sure your pussy is wet enough for my dick' sort of situation and never a 'it would be my pleasure to die here in between your thighs' situation. The moans that escaped you were shaky and broken, unlike the noises coming from between your legs, a sinful combination of wet slurping and Eddie deeply moaning and humming approval into you as he ate you out. 

Your legs began to shake, partially from your growing orgasm, and partly from this advanced yoga position Eddie had you in. He slid a hand down from the juncture of your leg to toy with the pooling wetness at your hole. You let your wobbly hand replace his holding your knee back for him, keeping you spread open and on display as he stuffed two fingers into you, continuing to suck on your clit. 

"Ohmyfuckinggod," your words slurred together in a high pitched moan, "Eddie- Eddie, fuck." You were no longer in control of the noises coming out of your mouth, a barely coherent slew of Eddie's name, 'fuck's' and 'please.'

He groaned into your cunt, picking up the pace and curling his fingers into you just like he had the night before, this time with the added pleasure of his mouth devouring you. You were not long for this world. 

'You're gonna make me come," you warned him, your voice sounding on the verge of a sob, "feels so fucking good, Eddie, please."

Your eyes screwed shut and legs fell from their pushed back position to clamp around his head as your orgasm took over you. Crashing waves of pleasure that were pulling you out like a riptide. All you can feel is the release, hardly noticing your shaking legs or broken moans. Eddie moves up to catch your lips in a deep, wet kiss, slowing his hand as you ride out the end of your orgasm, still quivering around him. 

You were severely out of breath, but refused to break the kiss. His slick, swollen lips swallowed your moans and anchored you, bringing you back down to earth. 

"Mmmmm," he hums into the kiss, "you need to quiet down, unless you're tryina get me in trouble," he whispers into your lips, dipping down for another soft kiss as you regain your composure. 

"Fuck, sorry," you pant out. 

"Don't apologize to me," he slowly pulls his hand from your center and you wince slightly, "if it were just the two of us in this cabin I'd insist you let those pretty moans out to your heart's content."

"I'll be quiet," you reach down to palm him through his low hanging pajama pants, "will you please fuck me? Need to feel your cock in me so badly Eddie, I know you're gonna make me feel so good again."

A feral groan rumbles in his chest, head tilting back towards the ceiling as you stroke what felt to be an incredibly well endowed cock. 

"You sure you're up for it?" Now it was his turn to show the hint of neediness in his voice.

"Are you sure?" You question back, getting a better grip through the material of his pants.

"You know I wanna fuck you," he ruts into your hand ever so slightly, "but I need to hear you say it."

"I already did Eddie," you mumble into his neck, "Want your cock so bad, I want to make you feel good too."

He rolls over onto his back, and slips off his pants and boxers. You shift onto your knees next to him, unsure of what position he'd want you in. As his hard cock springs out of his elastic waistband and onto his stomach you lose control over your facial muscles and let your slack jaw hang open, eyes bulging slightly. 

"Wh-" a look of concern on his face grows as he notices your expression, looking from you, down to his cock, then back to you, "Oh! The piercing?"

You were completely frozen, because the only thing more shocking than the two little metal balls sticking out of his cockhead was the fact that Eddie Munson had a pornstar dick. Thick, long, girthy, perfectly curved, the most glorious shade of blushed pink. No wonder he had decided to bedazzle it, it was gorgeous. Not only was it the largest and most aesthetically pleasing dick you'd ever seen, in real life or photos, you sure as hell had never had one that big inside you. 

"Yeah, the piercing-" your voice trailed off, still gawking at it. 

"Shit, I'm sorry if you're like, super freaked out," the worry in his voice snapped you out of your trance, "I guess I maybe should have warned you-"

"No no," you were quick to correct his concern, reaching down to wrap your hand, which hardly fit, around it and give a few experimental strokes, "it's fucking perfect." You were visibly salivating, wanting to feel how the metal balls felt against your hot tongue. 

"I mean, it's okay I guess," you say, sitting up, "I wouldn't want to give you an ego or anything," joking sarcasm rolled off your tongue, "but fuck..." the way he twitched in your hand drew you back in, not thinking twice before leaning forward and letting your tongue run from the underside of his shaft up across the metal balls that decorated the head, all the way up to his leaking slit. Your tongue gathered his precum and went back to explore how the piercing felt against your lips, rolling it across your tongue, placing open mouthed kisses to the head. 

"Shit-" he hisses out, Eddie knew his dick was fine, maybe a little bigger than average or something, but no one had ever stopped to admire it, compliment it. Then again, most of Eddie's sexual escapades were just that, escapades. Random girls in bar bathrooms, quickies in the back of his van, a few weed customers who he didn't mind exchanging a good quick fuck for a discount. Sure, he'd heard the 'oh you're so big' line mid thrust, but everyone said that about the person they're fucking, right? 

After feeling his hips twitch a bit underneath you, you release his cock with a soft pop and climb on top of his torso. Grinding down on his hard length with a few slow forward rolls of your hips, you can't help but lurch forward and capture his lips in a kiss. You let out a deep moan as you feel the head of his cock catch your clit as you drag your wet folds up and down his shaft. Your foreheads stay pressed together as your mouth opens in a silent gasp, his hands coming down to guide your hips and dig his fingertips into your ass. 

"Fuck, princess," his voice was low and sexy, and the new nickname had you bucking your hips a little harder, "lay back and let me make you feel good again. This is all about me giving it to you right, yeah? So let me do all the work." 

You know his intentions were sweet, but you kept his hips pinned under yours. "Eddie I-" you pull back a bit to meet his eyes, "you can fuck me however you want in a bit, but... I've never had anything that big inside me before and..."

"Shhhh," his hands ran up and down your sides, "we can take it slow, promise. You can sit on my cock and take it at your own pace, let it fill you up right, don't wanna hurt you." 

With that you nudged his tip into your entrance ever so slightly, taking a moment to feel how his piercing dragged across your cunt and left a cool metal trail that sent a shiver down your spine. Once you slipped the head inside you, it really wasn't any different from an unpierced dick, other than the sheer girth of it. Your teeth caught your lower lip, sinking down to take the first two inches or so, letting your opening adjust to its size. 

It was taking everything in Eddie's willpower not to thrust up into you, or grab your hips and roll them down onto his aching cock. But he knew better than that, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in any way. So he stayed still, holding in a deep and shaky breath as you started to take him. Part of him wanted to look away from the gorgeous faces you were making, because if you were going to bat your eyelashes and tuck that perfect lip in between your teeth he was going to come a lot sooner than either of you would like. But he can't bring himself to do it, loving the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost like when you were angry. 

You were fully seated on his cock now, breathing slowly and leaning back to sit up straight on it, somehow pushing it even deeper into you. 

"That's it," Eddie's hands still gripped at your hips, making sure you were steady on him, "that's my girl, taking me so well." 

You experimentally shifted your weight front to back, rocking your hips shallowly against his. You felt Eddie move underneath you, reaching his hand from its place on your hip to your back. He adjusted his position, and pushed up against the headboard to sit upright, now holding your torso against his. He smoothed your hair across the back of your head. 

"It's okay if you need a minute," he took your chin in his hands, clenching his jaw as you continued to rock your hips into his, "don't want you to hurt yourself. 

"Just feel so fucking full," you whispered into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage, "need you to fuck me, fuck me deep and hard, please Eddie, need it."

He arches his hips up slightly to meet your hips as they come down, and your eyes practically spin into the back of your head. He takes it slow, his first few thrusts from under you are careful and gentile. You continue to mumble "please" and "more" into his lips, so he scoops you up from your back and flips you over, not removing his cock from deep within you as you settle down into the mattress. Your legs wrap around his hips and he pushes his dick all the way into you, reaching a new spot that knocks the wind out of you. 

"Fuck just like that," your words are hardly there, "so fucking good, Eddie, Eddie..."

"Beautiful," he fucks into you a little harder, "your pussy was fucking made for me." His hands were settled on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread nice and open for him to pound his cock into you. He lets one hand press into your lower stomach, pushing his cock down while inside you, causing you to let out a gasp. He lets his palm spread your on your lower abdomen, letting his thumb creep closer and closer to your clit, catching it every so often as your hips rolled back and forth with his thrusts. 

"You gonna be good and let me make you come again?" he asks, the cocky edge in his voice has you losing all coherence, "so pretty wrapped around my cock."

The movements of his thumb are much more deliberate now, rubbing your clit in tandem with the movement of his hips. He wasn't fucking you particularly fast, but he was making sure his cock was buried all the way inside you with every thrust, rolling his hips forward and punctuating each thrust with extra pressure. 

"Oh my god, I-" your head was thrown back into the flannel pillowcases, body starting to tense up again. You were still so wet and turned on from your last orgasm, but coming while his massive cock was in you was going to be entirely different, you could feel it. 

"That's it, come on my cock," he could feel the muscles in your thighs start to tighten, the walls of your pussy fluttering around him as he drew methodical figure eights on your clit. You felt so fucking good around him, so warm and wet and tight, swallowing his cock up with every thrust. That plus those damn sounds you were making. But Eddie had a goal, and couldn't be distracted by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body, his one and only focus was to push you over the edge, to take care of you and do it right. 

The choked sobs leaving your heaving chest were the first indicator that you were about come, that and your pussy gripping him like a fucking vice. You weren't able to form words as you fell apart for him, just letting broken moans escape you as your body shook and released all that tension. Part of you could hear a string of praises coming from him, but all you could focus on was the ripple of your orgasm tearing through your body. 

You start to come down for it, catching your breath, until you feel him pull out of you entirely and push you legs back as he had before, and dip his head down to lick down your quivering center. He lapped up your wetness and sent a few aftershocks buzzing into your core. His tongue slowed down and he let you settle down, before pushing his tongue entirely into you and letting out the most sensual groan right into your cunt. 

"Holy shit," you let out, looking down at him and realized that next to seeing his dick for the first time, Eddie lapping up your orgasm was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. 

He sat up and let his cock rest in between your puffy pussy lips, his pierced head sitting right on your sensitive clit. He lets the weight of it fall into his hand and gives your pussy a few taps with his cock, sending your hips jerking from the sensitivity. 

"Eddie," you start, eyes glassy and voice hoarse, "please keep fucking me, don't want you to stop."

"You want more?" a comment half cocky and half serious. 

"Mhmm, want you to fuck me hard," your hands came up to play with your tits, "want you to come in me, use me, give it to me hard how I know you like it."

"'S'that right," he quickly grabs your hips and flips you over, angling your ass up in the air for him, "you wanna take all my come like the good girl you are?"

"Please," your muffled voice comes up from the sheets, "I'm on the pill, it's okay, it's safe."

"Mmm fuck," he slips his cock back into your soaking wet hole, guiding your hips back and forth with his big hands, "thank you, so fucking perfect for me, you can tell me if I go to hard, yeah?" 

"Yeah Eddie," you try your best to bounce back on his cock, but know he's doing most of the work moving your ass to slap against his hips, "I want it hard."

With that he takes the initiative to snap his hips forward with every thrust, pulling your gorgeous ass back against him and twitching inside you every time it comes flush with his lower stomach. He can't help but bring a flat palm down to smack it, loving the big red handprint he leaves behind, and loving even more the muffled moan that leaves you when he does so. 

"Y'like that?" he already knows you do, but just wants to hear you say it.

"Yes, again, please," each word comes out as a short gasping breath. He smacks your ass again, watching it jiggle against his palm has him thinking he's died and gone to heaven, you his personal angel. 

Although he can feel the end in sight, he wants to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock again, so he snakes his hand under your arched hips and toys with your clit. You're beyond fucked out at this point, but can't help but prop yourself up on straightened arms to give him more room to rub against you. He leans down to press his chest against your back, one arm coming down by your side to support his weight as he fucks down into you. 

"One more time," he lets out into the skin of your shoulder, "can you come for me one more time, princess?"

“I-” you start, about to tell him you’re unsure, but then he starts rubbing fast strokes against your clit and you’re already seeing stars. 

He’s fucking into you fast and hard, just like you’d asked him to. The feeling of you clenching down on him has him biting your shoulder to hold back his grunts and moans. As soon as he feels your pussy start to gush around him, your arms collapsing and legs shaking under him, he lets go with a soft grunt and spills his come deep inside you. 

He lets his cock stay there for a moment, pulsing inside you, relishing in the feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him. He pulls out slowly and you let out a small yelp, letting your hips fully sink down to the mattress without his hands to heep you propped up. 

He runs a hand across your thigh, and you acknowledge your attention with a hum. 

“M’gonna go get something to clean you up,” his voice is soft and you nod into the pillows, making a half hearted attempt to roll your body over. He uses his discarded sweatpants to wipe off his forehead and chest, suddenly aware of how sweaty he is, you both are. 

He slips on his boxers and creeps down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a big glass of water and a clean hand towel run under the sink. He slips back into the room to find you paid out on the bed, all sweaty and fucked out, it’s the best you’ve ever looked to him. 

He lifts you up by the shoulders and helps you sit up while you take a few sips of water and let out a “thank you” in between sips. He runs the warm cloth in between your legs a few times to catch anything sticky, before tossing it into the pile with his dirty clothes. 

You were already mostly knocked out, all the energy completely drained from your body. Typically you’d awkwardly dance around the notion of spending the night or not, but your eyes felt too heavy to care, and your body was already molded into his sheets. He flicked off the bedside light and got settled into bed next to you, thinking you were already completely asleep. 

“Thank you Eddie,” your voice was sleepy and almost didn't cut through the air.

“No problem, good sex is dehydrating,” he responds, assuming you meant the thanks for the water and towel. 

“No thank you for taking care of me,” you roll into his arms, snuggling up against him, “I didn’t know sex could be like that.” 

“Like what?” he partially knew what you meant, given that the three times you’ve ever come during sex all happened in the past hour. 

“Like magic,” you’d have been embarrassed to say it in other circumstances. But the post sex bliss and intense sleep that was washing over you made you sort of hazy and elated. 

“Yeah I think you’re pretty magic too,” he wrapped you up  in his arms, feeling the same tiredness, “good night y/n.”

The next morning he felt a sort of sore stiffness in his body, wiping the crust from his eyes and suddenly remembering the events of the night prior. There was an empty warm spot in the bed next to him, indicating you must have slipped out recently. He shook out his messy bedhead and threw on some sweatpants. 

A short trip down the hall brought him into the kitchen, where you were making a pot of coffee. You heard him come in from the hallway, and you suddenly tensed up at the thought of facing him. How did he look so damn good mid yawn, rubbing his face and his hair a wild mess. 

You turn towards the coffee machine on the counter, frantically trying to think of what to say or how to act towards him. Before you could give it too much thought, you feel his presence directly behind you, his arms caging you in and his back pressed against you. 

“Are you pouring me a cup?” he asks, hunching down to rest his chin on your shoulder. 

“Yes,” you elongate the word, taking in his scent and feeling his hair tickle your neck, “this is how you take it right? No cream, no sugar.”

“Mhmmm,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a quick peck on the side of your neck before moving to grab the cup. 

“Wow okay early bird Eddie,” Robin’s voice cuts through the air of the kitchen and he immediately grabs his coffee and moves away from you. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice and the two of you cringe at the somewhat compromising position. 

“Okay I don’t think I want to know what the hell that was about,” she points between the two of you. Ahh Robin, master of the art of subtlety. 

Steve comes into the kitchen, immediately sensing the awkward air between everyone in the small space. 

“Oh god,” he looks from Robin’s pointing finger to the two of you with somewhat guilty expressions, “was THAT all that noise I heard last night? Jesus Christ you two.” He turns out of the kitchen dramatically, leaving Robin with a bewildered expression and the two of you cringing. 

“At least they’re fucking instead of fighting now!” she calls to him as he continues to walk down the hall away from you. 

Amongst Robin yelling and Steve leaving in a huff, Eddie manages to sneak his hand behind you and pinch your ass, making you jump a bit and the coffee in your cup to slosh around. He gives you a wink and starts to head out of the kitchen. 

“I’m gonna have my coffee by the lake, you joining me?”

Maybe this trip was going to be something special after all. 

All Eddie Fics Taglist: @eddielives1986

[st4rbwrry]

━━ 𝑘𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 .ᐟ satoru + getou.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.9k. fem chubby reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded, threesome but getou’s our boyfie so boyfriend’s best friend trope!, anal + vaginal penetration, oral [ f ], handjob, a few lil gay moments teehee, getou is kinda insecure, satoru takes most of the lead, spitting, choking, check ins, impact play, praising, condom use, cockwarming, creampie, potential polyamory?, minors aren’t welcomed!

━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; dedicated to my bestie bc she harassed me about a getou + gojo fic since i never continued impure :/ <3 @thecoochiefairy

their postures are statue-like once you step foot out of the bathroom, both men eyeing you from head to toe, getou instantly standing to his feet with clammy hands he rested on his hips. satoru remained seated, legs spread as he groaned and pulled at his soft snow hair. they were lost for words. while they were busy finding a bar to grab a drink at the mall, you wandered off in search of a lingerie set, finding a simple pearl white babydoll, sheer mesh bodice, an open flyaway back, and matching panty set. it made you feel pretty, so you wore it for them.

their silence made your heart race nervously, playing with the fabric as your eyes flicker between the two faces, waiting for a response.

"you like it?" your voice is quiet as a mouse.

"i love it," they say in unison. getou blinks, forgetting he was here, honestly.

"you're fuckin' gorgeous, baby," satoru finally stands, being the first one to walk towards you, cupping the side of your face in his palm. you grow hot immediately. "stunning."

even though you've never had the slightest sexual encounter with satoru, the way he had your mind running wild with imagination was near insanity. of course, it was wrong to think of another man while clearly in a committed relationship. but, it was impossible when he was always around you. making jokes here and there about clearly wanting to fuck you. the infatuation was clear as day. you hated your attraction to him. that's why you had to do this, why you wanted it. both of them at once. your feelings were mutual towards them equally, and the sexual tension would never ease unless this happened. plus, it was your birthday. and as your gift, you asked getou for this one thing. your puppy dog eyes making him unable to object.

"give me your hands," you hold out both of yours, getou swallowing and coming forward to gently clasp your small hand, satoru doing the same before you smile and turn, the men stumbling behind you with their eyes on your ass, guiding them towards the bedroom.

a rush of confidence sparks through you now. you've been wanting this for so long, so it's only right that you show them. closing the door behind them, they stare ahead, looking down to see your fingers delicately skid across their abdomens, lifting their shirts and moaning at the abs on both of their bodies. they were toned, buff in the arms but nothing steroid-like. deeply cut v-lines and slim waists. you nearly drool from the feel, desperate to clutch their waists as they fucked you hard without a care.

"baby," it's clear you're referring to getou by the purr in your voice, tits pressed firmly against his side as he looks down at you with a clench of his jaw.

"mhm?" is how he responds, trying his best to remain complacent.

"take control," you bat your lashes. "it's your pussy before his."

getou groans, satoru's grin is sadistic, finding himself clasping your wrist, taking your attention from your boyfriend and burning his eyes in your own, tugging you near him. he caresses your face admirably, humming.

"aren't you obedient," satoru's palm slaps against the side of your cheek as he chuckles, and to getou's point of view, it's absurdly violent. you've never felt this spark before, the action making your heart thump with excitement. the look on your boyfriend's face was pure anger, that deadpanned expression only meaning that he was ready to snap. satoru tries to do it again, but is stopped as soon as getou catches his wrist forcefully.

"are you asking to die?" getou seethes, satoru only raising a brow, no remorse.

"you're really blind, huh?" satoru laughs, side-eyeing you. "she likes it. don't tell me your sex life is that dull."

getou inhales, releasing his wrist once you touch the side of his face reassuringly, smiling hazily. "i like it, it's okay."

he's stuck. not sure how to respond nor react. there's so much more he has to know about you. teach himself about. even though it's only been four months into your relationship, he feels like a stranger, uneducated about your sexual desires. now he's concerned if he pleasures you enough or not. maybe this was a lesson. maybe he should let satoru do most of the work and observe while still being present. watch your reactions to things he says or does that rile you up. there was nothing wrong with being taught.

"tell me what you want," getou clenches his jaw, grabbing the back of your head and tugging softly. getou was extremely soft and caring during sex, and although you were fond of it, sometimes you wanted him to be the opposite. "i'll give you anything. just say it."

warmth fills your chest, so entranced by his sweetness. your eyes lock with satoru's, "wanna ride his face."

satoru tongues his inner cheek, looking you up and down once more. " 'course you do."

getou has his eyes on you the entire time, those big eyes of yours wide with anticipation. "can i?”

"don't ask me with that innocent tone. you're anything but," getou grunts, taking you back by his side possessively. "come sit on me."

you follow like a lost puppy, getou taking his seat on the middle of the bed, one leg propped up as you crawl on your hands and knees to him, your face in his hands he caressed gently with his thumbs, kissing you and admiring you a while longer. satoru stands behind you, tilting his head to the side to capture a picture of the cute set on your body, his hands on your ass he brings back to rub the outline of his jean-clad cock against, groaning.

"fuck, you're really soft," his hand gropes your ass hard and it makes you whine, getou watching as you bite your lip and brush back against satoru who's dry humping you through the mesh thong you wore. "my dick is so fuckin' hard right now."

you swear your clits pulsating like a goddamn vibrator, moaning into getou's mouth after he kisses you, his eyes dark and pointed viciously in satoru's way, shoving his tongue in your mouth, barely paying you attention. he's watching satoru, making sure he takes care of you, doesn't hurt you. because if he did, he'd have to hurt him. satoru chuckles from the quiet obvious threat, molding your flesh in his rough palms. you're arching your back like a cat, panting in your boyfriend's mouth who's aware of your body sensitivity. the smallest touches leaving you feral. a cool breeze of air hits your soaked core as satoru pulls your panties to your knees, raising them so they're off fully, needing access to every region.

"fuck, that's a nice ass pussy," satoru grins, knitting his dark brows together, crystal blue eyes darting between getou and your weeping cunt. you yelp when two of his fingers brush over your clit, sliding it up to your core he taps a few times and hums. then he's bringing his fingers to his nose, liking the smell before he's sucking them off. "damn, this really all yours?"

getou rolls his eyes after satoru whistles, not waiting for him to say anything, which he doesn't, blocking him out anyways. it's all about you. he wants you and he's gonna stay focused on that. he's lowering to his knees on the ground, positioning your thighs so they're spread wider, barely preparing you before he's literally kissing at your cunt with tongue, like full on making out with it. you shudder instantly, mouth dropping and gripping at getou's thigh as satoru grunts and slurps up your juices, thrusting those same fingers into you. your eyes widen partially when his tongue trails up to your puckering hole, spitting, then kissing it up, bobbing his head up and down the entirety of you.

"ooo, my god. . ." you gasp, grinding back against his face, blindly tugging at the waistband of getou's jeans, getou studying you as your face turns in ecstasy, fumbling with your hands as you pull out his cock, whimpering as you spit into your small hand before wrapping it around to pump. getou clenches his jaw, placing his hand over yours to stoke it together, his bubblegum lips pouty as he kisses you hard, swallowing your moans.

"like fuckin' candy," satoru kisses your clit hard, lips wet before he's sucking on it hard, tongue moving everywhere, skidding over your thighs as he laps you up with a deep ‘fuck’, jaw moving side to side and his hand spanking your ass slow like he's drunk, the impact hard. it's a pattern, his spews of fuck become monotonous the more he eats at it.

fuck. spank, then moved his mouth. fuck. spank, then applies more pressure with his tongue. fuck. spanks you ten times harder, then growls. it was driving you mad, unable to stop shifting your ass.

"he's not gonna stop until you cum," getou says, now holding your throat in his hand, your face contorted as you whine.

"not once," satoru counters, getou looking over your shoulder with a brow raised, eyes trailing back to yours without disagreement.

"more than once."

"m'almost there," you cry, his mouth all too good, never reaching an orgasm this quickly.

"are you?" getou hums tauntingly, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. you nod, your breath hitching as he bites your lower lip and sucks, blood rushing. you jerk your hand faster, keeping it on the tip like he liked, getou folding easily, hips twitching.

"gonna give it to me?" satoru asks, never ceasing his assault, in love with the way your knees buckle.

"nnn, yea," you chew on your lips, already fucked out. not prepared for what they had in store for you next.

"yeah?" satoru mocks your tone, stuffing his fingers into you and moving to your desired pace. your vision goes static like an old television when you cum, falling forward to rest your cheek on your boyfriend's chest, both the men half stripping throughout your fixation. getou stops you from pulling at his dick, afraid he'll cum too quick. you have that affect on him.

satoru doesn't stop when you cum, he keeps going, more than once, he said. and he meant it. it's worse when getou pulls you up to suck on your neck, tugging at the hardened buds of your nipples , both men touching you at once was filthy, your head buzzing and your mouth nonstop with pornographic sonances. satoru takes his breath when he stands, licking you off his lips as if you were the best fucking dessert he's ever had. while you're left breathless, getou and satoru are pulling off the rest of their clothing, achingly hard they couldn't stand it any longer. you could read them well, especially getou, knowing when he's near done.

getou lays on his back and he pulls you on top of him, your messy face still so adorable. satoru grabs the bottle of lube and two condoms stashed in his drawer before coming back to the bed, brushing the white hair from his face and staring down at you as you turn to look behind yourself, teasing him by grinding your hips midair. satoru snickers, climbing on the bed and resting on his knees. he looks at getou.

"you go first."

your smile is lazy, hugging your man by his neck and cradling your face between it. getou holds out his hand, satoru passing him a condom, the gold packaging being torn with his teeth before he's tossing it aside and sliding it down his cock resting on his stomach.

"lift your hips," getou rasps, hands calloused on either side of your thighs, helping you up till he's sinking you down on it, stretching you good like he always does. you whimper by his ear, clenching your cunt around him once he's fully inside, swaying your ass, belly to belly as you grind and say his favorite word he liked to hear most of all from you; his name.

after satoru's secure, he spreads the lubricant over himself and then some on his fingers he uses to prep you. your cute little hole tensing when the heat from them grazes you, satoru telling you to take a deep breath and relax yourself before he's pressing against the unused entrance. you gasp when he managed to get them in, carefully thrusting past his knuckles. his fingers were as long as getou's. getou tries not to lose it, your pussy warming his cock with little to no movement. satoru continues to prep you for two more minutes, wanting to make sure he eases the discomfort just a bit.

"satoru," you whimper his name, giving him permission to take his turn.

it's a clear signal, and he doesn't waste time, towering over you and pinning down your lower back to arch you a little more. getou soothes you by caressing the sides of your legs, as well as smoothing them over your back. satoru aligns his reddened cockhead to your hole, kissing up your back as he gently pushes into you, inch by inch. the unknown stretch burns, getou turning his head to whisper comforting words to keep your mind off the pain, lifting his hips to fuck into you. the mixture of pain and pleasure has you clawing at his shoulders.

halfway in, satoru decides to bring you up, clutching your chin and getting his turn to taste your lips, sliding, slowly, deeper inside the longer his mouth moved with yours, getou observing you both.

"it's good? you're good?" satoru says in between breaths, hips so close to touching your ass.

"m'good. move, please."

it's enough to make both men move in sync, satoru biting at your neck with his face scrunched up, eyeing getou beneath you. the pain subsides, and all you feel are the tingles in the pit of your stomach, dragging out your moans as they both pounded into you, satoru finally getting deep like he wanted since you relaxed more.

"jesus, fuck . . . mmm," for some reason, the erotic expression on satoru's face makes getou blush, biting his lip as he watches the two of you lose yourselves. how you scratch at his shoulder and the elicit eye roll satoru does. getou never thought he'd feel like this, or like seeing you fuck another man so much.

"you look pretty as fuck taking both of us," getou grunts, smacking at your tits and you keen in shock. satoru must be getting to him now. you scream as the two men fuck you like they'd lost their sanity, gushing around getou's cock while satoru aggressively knocks his dick into you, both following each other's rhythms for you. your skin clashing, pouncing back on them.

"shit," getou whimpers, hips stuttering as he cums inside his condom, chest heaving erratically. you rush your hand over his hair, tugging and riding them still. satoru has his arm around your neck now, slamming his hips against your ass which makes you let go of getou, holding onto his forearm as your tongue lolls out and satoru switches positions.

you're lifted off getou, satoru tossing his condom off to slide into your sluice cunt, groaning and closing his eyes from the new feeling.

"cum inside me," it has getou stunned since you've never said that once, deathly afraid of the idea of pregnancy. maybe you gained a breeding kink overnight. he wonders what videos you researched prior to this that sparked this sudden fantasy to be dominated by two men, two roommates, two new best friends.

"was doing that anyways," he licks the shell of your ear with a malicious cackle. "bet you'd let me fuck you raw every day if it meant I'd get to fill you up."

"yess, baby," you weep, out of your mind entirely.

"baby?" satoru whistles, glaring at getou who only blinked. what's up with you? were you under his spell or something? "i like that. you tryna' make one with me?"

"get smacked," getou threatens.

satoru only grins, grabbing your chin and pressing his nose to your cheek, keeping his eyes on getou. "don't wanna be a daddy with me? it'd be fun. I'll push the stroller and you hold her hand so she doesn't trip with the other kid in her belly."

"cut it," getou seethes.

"you're no fun," satoru pouts, still fucking you back on his dick like it's nothing, your head spinning. his attentions back on you. "say it one more time for me."

"baby," you slur, swallowing the extra saliva built up in your mouth from drooling, giggling when he groans in approval.

"good fuckin' girl," satoru hisses, yanking you back hard, like some rag doll, your screams softening the longer he prolonged, balls slapping against your sticky clit and your tits bouncing so cutely in your babydoll set.

you slap your hands on getou's torso once you cum for your third time, tone drowning out by satoru's who growls and paints your tight walls white, your legs frantically twitching as you fall forward, getou swallowing, endlessly fascinated by you as he rubs you to cool you down.

"wanna watch it drip," satoru keens, raising your ass and holding the dip of your spine down, licking his lips as he watches the way his cum glides from you. "damn, i think it's my birthday, honestly."

you're spent, still shaky and barely having air left in your lungs. satoru leans over you, kisses your cheek with a loud 'muah!' before doing the same to getou, only he kisses him on the lips.

"don't kiss me, asshole!" getou splutters, palm over satoru's face as he shoved him away. you giggle weakly into your boyfriend's chest, reaching behind yourself to keep satoru pressed to your back for warmth, the three of you snuggled up comfortably.

“thank you babe,” you smile, elated.

“you’re welcome, baby,” they say in unison.

getou rolls his eyes, a petty grunt released. “she’s not talking to you.”

“s’okay, her pussy did,” satoru cackles, kissing your cheek with tongue to piss the black-haired man off even further. he remains silent. this time.

© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[lqveharrington]

My Wife | A.B.

summary: It was arranged for you and Anthony to marry for convince, but it seems as if the both of you find it much more than just a marriage of convince.

pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

includes: use of she/her pronouns, minimal use of Y/N, kissing, mentions of sex, some angst

a/n: i’ve been watching too much bridgerton and reading too much books to not write about him

After being wed and having one of the best wedding lunches, the new viscountess and Viscount Bridgerton found themselves with a dilemma. Although the two had known each other for quite some time before having to wed, they had not considered how they truly felt for one another. They merely saw each other as close friends through the years. So when their wedding night came — along with the added nights of their honeymoon — the newly wed couple did not know what was to come of them.

“You mustn’t leave us yet!” Hyacinth wraps her arms around your middle, smiling brightly toward her newest sister-in-law. “I still have so many things I need to ask you and so little time!”

“I’ll be back in a month, Hyacinth.” You press a kiss to her temple and squeeze her in your arms. You tuck one of her curls behind her ear and rub her cheek. “Besides, I’ve seen you grow into an amazing young woman so far, I doubt it’ll change in one month.”

She happily takes the compliment — albeit shyly — and took your hands in her. She swings them by her side and looks at you with all seriousness. “You must promise to be back in a month. No more and no less.”

“I promise.” You give her a soft smile. It wasn’t uncommon for Hyacinth to make you promise such things, she truly loved you even before you were betrothed to her eldest brother. You squeeze her hands gently, giving her a reassuring gaze. “But you must promise me that you’ll tell me all those stories of your adventures when I come back.”

“Of course.” She gives you a bright grin.

You give her an equally bright smile as she wraps her arms around you one last time before letting go, off to bother Gregory. The young Bridgerton boy gave you a hug, murmuring softly about how much he’d miss you before following his younger sister to stand by the front gates. They both were truly lights in the Bridgerton family, and you were happy that they both officially became a siblings to you. Even after practically raising them along side Anthony and Violet.

You move to walk over to the carriage when Eloise rushes over to you, eyes glazed and puffy.

“Eloise?” You stand in front of the young woman, catching her wipe her tears and sniffle. “Are you alright?” You bring a hand up to wipe her tears, giving her a look of remorse.

“I’m not bloody fine.” She sadly chuckled before pulling you into a tight hug. Eloise buried her head into your shoulder, sniffling loudly. “I can’t believe you married my prick brother.”

You quickly embraced the brunette, holding her close as her tears were soaked up by your white dress. You rubbed her back softly, murmuring a quiet response. “I can’t believe you’re crying for me and not Anthony.”

“Like I said, he’s a prick.” Eloise wiped her face with her bare hand, no decorum whatsoever. You handed her a handkerchief, nodding when she thanked you. She glanced back at the carriage awaiting you and Anthony before meeting your eyes again. “When I was younger, I thought that the easiest way for you to become my sister was to marry into the family.”

You listened intently, rubbing her shoulder.

“I didn’t think that you needed to marry after you helped raise us. You were practically family. I guess I never saw Anthony nor Benedict enough to marry such an amazing woman.” She fiddled with the bow at the front of her dress as she explained her thoughts for you. “When you came over one day and told us you were getting married to dear old Anthony… I think I was elated that you would really be our sister.” She looked up at you again. “I was happy that you and him came to your senses and that you would become the new Viscountess.”

Your eyes widened slightly. You forgot that no one else other than Anthony and your father knew that marriage was for convience. That the marriage was for the Bridgerton heir. Quickly, you mask your face. “I’ll let your mama handle being Viscountess for as long as she wants. I still have much to learn about that role.”

“Nonsense, you learned so much about it when you came over to help with Gregory and Hyacinth.” She nudged your side before pulling you into one last hug. “I won’t keep you long because Anthony keeps glaring over, but I truly believe you would be the best Viscountess the ton will ever see.” She pauses and looks over at her mother. “Well, besides mama.”

You shake your head with a playful grin, “I’ll see you in a month, El.”

She smiles softly as you step away to your carriage. You soften your gaze as you look back at her and the rest of the Bridgerton family. They were practically your second family and now they truly were family. You gave them a short curtesy for being a home to you when an arm wrapped around your waist. Without even looking, you knew who was next to you.

“Are you all done with your goodbyes?” Anthony teases, recounting how each of his siblings had a personal farewell from you. “I want my wife back.”

You scrunch your nose at his teasing words as he lays his hand out to help you into the carriage. “Jealous, Viscount Bridgerton?” You steady yourself as you enter the carriage, hand delicately placed in his. You adjust yourself in the carriage, pushing strands of hair off your face.

He squeezes your hand as he takes a seat next to you. He gave you a gentle look, eyes roaming around your face. “I would never be jealous of my siblings. Besides you’re stuck with me, Viscountess Bridgerton.”

You send him a soft smile at his words before waving toward the Bridgerton family once more as the carriage pulled away. You lean your head on Anthony’s shoulder like you usually did when you were younger, keeping your hand in his.

“You know, you don’t need to bow down to them.” Anthony gave a short peck to your head, rubbing his thumb on your hand.

You hum before speaking, “Your family has earned my respect over many years. I owe them at least one bow before I’m officially the Viscountess.”

He continues to rub your hand as he processes your words.

As the trek to Aubrey Hall began, you kept your hands intertwined with Anthony’s the entire time, occasionally one of you squeezing the other’s hand. You spoke mindlessly about the recent books you’ve read or how the visits to the modiste went with his sisters. You honestly did everything to keep your mind off from the impending wedding night that was to fall on the both of you.

And as if he read your mind, Anthony did the same. While he listened intently to your words, he added comments where he deemed it necessary and rubbed soft circles into your hand when he asked for more information. He would also tell his own tales, although they ranged from being drunk with his brothers to filing papers.

The tension between the both of you became apparent as you started to feel warmth lingering on your skin from his touch. It became even more ignited when you saw how he looked at you. He gave you such an amorous gaze, like you hung the stars up just for him.

You arrived at Aubrey Hall during nightfall, the lights outside just being lit by the staff already waiting for the both of you. No matter how many times you saw the place, you marveled at how beautiful it was.

Anthony stepped out of the carriage and dusted himself off before extending his hand for you to take. He led you through the house where the both of you would be staying, your things arriving well before your carriage came.

You let go of Anthony’s hand as you sat in front of the vanity, gently taking your earrings out and your jewelry when you saw him staring at you intensely. You raised a brow and opened your mouth to comment on it when he spoke.

The both of you quietly laughed at the unexpected mixing of your voices. You finished pulling all your jewelry off and stood to face him properly. He nodded for you to go first, taking your hand in his again.

“Anthony…” You say softly and thumb his pulse. “Can I ask you something?”

He hummed and met your eyes, creasing his brows when he saw the hesitation in them. “What is it?”

“I… You…” You pause, looking away and spinning your wedding ring anxiously. You rubbed your face before continuing, slowly meeting his eyes. “Did you truly only agree to marry me for convenience? For an heir to the Bridgerton name?”

Anthony let go of your hand and rubbed his jaw, sighing. “Yes… And no.”

You looked at him in confusion before he spoke again.

“I knew I had to marry someday. I thought it would merely be for an heir, but mother wanted it to be of love since Daphne found her true match.” Anthony chuckled softly at the fond memory of his sister in a now very happy marriage. “I wasn’t too sure how love with someone other than family was supposed to feel like. I wasn’t sure exactly how I was supposed to find someone to marry for love.”

The idea plagued your mind. You never knew what love from a significant other was supposed to feel like either. You knew love from your family and what the Bridgertons’ had shown you.

“I saw how mother was with father when he was still… I never really felt it.” Anthony gazed into your eyes with something you couldn’t place. “Not until recently. You,” He sucked in a small breath before continuing. “You lit up a room whenever you came by and my siblings adored you, I adored you.” He cupped your cheek softly. “There were countless nights where I couldn’t sleep because I knew you were available for any other man of the ton and you only saw me as a friend. A friend from childhood.”

You parted your mouth slightly at the confession, feeling the heat from his hands.

“When your father came up to me and proposed the marriage with you, I thought it couldn’t be bad. I would marry the woman who stuck with me my entire life. I accepted for the convenience of it all, but I truly felt more even before this arrangement was brought up.” Anthony brought his other hand up to your face and stared intently, rubbing the apples of your cheeks.

“What are you…” You trail off as he gives you a look to listen.

“I’m saying I love you, Y/N. With all my heart and soul. You showed me what love was and how it was supposed to feel.” Anthony says before pulling your face to his and capturing your lips.

You let out a small noise of surprise before melting into the kiss, letting your arms wrap behind his neck. He trailed a hand down to your hip and pulled you closer to him as you smiled into the kiss.

Panting, you part from the mind searing kiss and rest your forehead on his, eyes shut. “Anthony?”

Anthony slowly nodded, “Yes?”

“I love you too.” You kiss him again.

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