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kiwi-bitchez · 8 months

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Double Down, Triple Threat

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension.

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending.

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics.

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways.

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something."

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order.

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret.

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on.

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that.

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were.

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers.

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar.

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well.

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig.

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him.

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface.

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer.

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him.

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket.

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that."

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull.

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt.

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards.

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night.

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot.

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive.

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot.

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something."

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road.

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt.

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong.

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk.

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one.

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood.

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper.

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful.

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door.

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks.

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go."

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step.

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking.

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live."

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies.

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?"

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought.

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat.

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here."

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights.

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought.

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?"

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar.

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on.

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped.

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close.

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy.

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat.

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.”

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside.

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now.

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane.

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this.

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond.

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that.

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say.

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile.

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago.

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips.

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window.

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form.

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much.

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue.

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner.

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise.

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be.

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.”

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath.

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch.

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief.

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow.

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind.

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there.

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing.

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights.

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow.

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.”

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel.

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale.

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request.

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut.

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes.

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did.

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it.

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off.

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.”

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances.

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over.

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were.

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…”

He understood, he hated how much he understood.

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him.

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run.

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat.

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive.

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt.

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails.

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers.

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed.

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point.

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction.

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale.

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot.

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice.

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip.

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction.

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?”

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill.

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away.

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands.

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom.

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on.

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself.

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark.

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked.

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you.

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious.

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present.

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed.

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream.

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go.

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around.

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin.

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways?

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away.

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back.

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel.

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging.

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.”

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up.

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.”

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most.

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs.

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way.

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you.

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time.

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?”

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him.

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand.

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary.

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else.

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes.

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch.

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top?

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching.

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment.

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point.

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end.

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold.

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean.

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two.

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his.

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could.

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen.

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong.

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep.

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you.

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months.

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control.

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed.

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze.

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue.

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true.

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper.

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment.

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall.

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl.

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time.

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over.

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was.

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear.

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.”

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this.

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.”

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips.

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you.

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom.

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips.

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom.

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets.

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you.

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed.

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away.

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself.

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect.

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck.

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.”

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body.

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long.

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs.

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up.

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks.

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.”

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away.

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.”

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit.

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred.

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.”

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask.

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest.

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip.

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle.

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?”

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you.

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning.

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone.

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest.

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit.

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand.

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time.

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment.

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare.

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening.

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more.

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more.

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time.

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go.

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you.

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time.

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state.

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you.

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you.

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could.

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all.

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now.

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter.

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue.

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you.

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you.

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts.

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future.

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page.

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock.

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips.

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake.

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his.

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours.

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses.

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.”

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center.

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you.

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name.

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release.

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements.

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm.

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name.

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van.

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets.

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss.

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all.

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice.

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come.

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #smut #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction

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fcthots · 8 months

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Can I request 27. "I'm going to carry you, okay?" with an angsty dash of 5. "You don't have anything to be sorry for." please?

You shouldn't have been out.

You should have never left your apartment, especially not in the middle of the night, especially when Jason didn't know you left, but you just wanted to go on a short walk, but one wrong turn turned your short walk into a very long one.

You could hear a few things: the beating of your heart, the sound of your feet hitting the ground as you ran, the sound of their feet running after you, shouting from behind you.

"Get your ass back here or I swear to God, we're gonna fucking kill you!"

Fuck. You just had to go on a walk to clear your head. You just had to get lost. You just had to forget your phone. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were running so hard you could barely breathe. You were faster than them, but not by much, and you couldn't keep it up. You were terrified, shaking, slightly crying. You tried screaming, but no one came. You were lost, alone, scared, and being chased. You wished more than anything that you never left your apartment. You wished you just called Jason to calm down, but you didn’t want to bother him. Regret. Regret. Regret.

You've basically run in one big circle, trying to get anywhere near your apartment, but you were so lost. That street sign, though was familiar, but more than that you had passed it before; something else.

Oh.

Oh no.

You knew the name on that street sign because Jason was telling you about it earlier

...in reference to a trafficking case.

Your heart sank. Their footfalls match the erratic beating of your heart. You were tired. You couldn't keep this up forever and they knew the territory. It seemed you were at every disadvantage.

You turned a corner. You had this one chance to lose them. You use all of your remaining energy to run into the gap between the closed down corner store and apartment complex,

and promptly trip on the uneven concrete. Yeah, you pulled something.

And with your absolutely stellar luck, you picked the one alley that was a dead end.

"Fucking finally. Nowhere to run now. I think we should take our time with this one. She made us waste all that time chasing her, what's a little more?"

You open your mouth to beg for your life, but the words won't come out. You try to get up but you collapse again. You use your good leg to move yourself against the wall.

The three men laugh as they slowly approach you, taunting you. They smile and joke at the tears you didn’t notice were falling. You try to think of any possible escape route, but come up empty. One pulls out a gun and you try not to look at it.

"You really thought you could just run away, huh?"

"You can scream as loud as you want. No one is coming."

The third man laughs. "Don't say that. The screaming is fucking annoying."

They get closer to you and you feel the sweat trickle from your hairline.

Everyone's heads turn when there's a loud thud outside the alley.

You aren't exactly focused on it, but it makes them temporarily stop, so you're thankful for it.

"Marcus, go check it out."

"Fuck you. Why do I have to it?"

"Be louder, why don’t you? Quit being a bitch and go."

'Marcus' leaves with a string of curses. The attention is turned back to you again, with impatient smiles and twisted laughter, but not for long.

They make it about two more steps before Marcus yells and there's a crunch and thud.

The two men stop dead in their tracks. Communicating as if with eye contact, one nods, and the other begins to walk slowly along the wall of the alley with his gun raised until he turns the corner. While the first man tries to split his attention between you and his friend, his friend screams.

The last man turns towards you. He rushes forward in an attempt to grab your arm, presumably to drag you, but he never gets that chance.

There is a loud thunk to the back of the man's head before he's on the floor. You look up and see a red helmet.

You don’t think you've ever been happier to see that shiny red.

"Hey, it's ok. It's just me. I wasn't gonna let anything happen to you, I promise. You're safe now."

You try to say his name as he rushes over to you but it comes out as more of a pathetic and terrified whimper.

"Are you hurt?"

You nod your head and watch him freeze.

"Where?"

You drag your leg out from underneath you. He sighs in relief. His shoulders hunch forward, his forehead knocking against yours. He lands a helmet kiss there.

"C'mon. Let's get you home. I'm going to carry you, okay?"

Before you could even think about attempting to reply, he has you scooped up in his arms. He takes a deep breath in and out and locks eyes with you.

"You ok?"

"no fatal injuries"

He hums in acknowledgement. The walk is quiet. Too quiet. You don’t remember most of the walk. The adrenaline wearing off was making you tired, but Jason's silence concerned you. You shouldn't have gone out alone, it was dumb, but you couldn't handle a fight with Jason right now. That's probably why he was being quiet, he’s mad at you, but knows you don’t wanna fight. He was being so sweet, but to be honest all you wanted was comfort. You can't take him being distant right now.

Fuck it. You can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry."

He stops on the outside of you apartment complex's elevator, moving to look at you.

You open your mouth to speak again but he cuts you off. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Aren't you mad?"

"I could never be mad at you."

"But you're being all silent."

"I thought you'd want space. Do you not?"

"...no... I want comfort..."

"Alright. And I'm not mad at you. Never mad at you. That wasn't your fault, ok? I was brooding just now because I was scared at the thought of losing you. I love you. So much."

"I love you too."

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sp00derm4n · 5 months

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝐖𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐫

Clarisse la Rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: your fighting lessons with clarisse are getting put to the test in a game of capture the flag. you just wished you didn't have to fight her

a/n: there's gonna be a prequel of their lessons together and maybe more parts after. this is my first work, i hope you all enjoy!

warnings: slight enemies to lovers, NICKNAMES!! (princess), clarisse falling for the reader HARD at the end

wc: 1.1k

---

"I can't do this," you exclaimed, looking between Annabeth and Luke. They shared a sympathetic glance at your revelation. You were close friends with Luke and Annabeth and, you trusted them with all your heart. But at this moment, you were starting to regret agreeing to participate in Annabeth's so-called master plan.

Annabeth let out a sigh. "Don't worry, just follow the plan."

You gave an exasperated look. "You mean the plan where I distract the Clarisse? The most feared prettiest person at this camp?" you emphasized.

"Is someone talking about me?" Speak of the devil, you thought. You rolled your eyes, turning around to face the one and only Clarrise la Rue. Her mouth lifted into a smirk, and her eyes crinkled in satisfaction at your displeased expression. "Didn't know you were such a fan princess," she chuckled.

"Still not a fan of that nickname la Rue," you snapped back.

Her eyes were trained on yours, not even sparring a glance at Luke and Annabeth behind you. "I'll see you on the battlefield, princess."

---

You had wandered the forest, wishing this game would be over. Your eyes darted across your surroundings at any sudden noise you had heard. You were hoping for an uneventful Capture the Flag, not wanting to get hurt. However, luck wasn't on your side today as you didn’t expect to end up with Clarisse La Rue pointing a spear at you.

“Where’s your little friend?” She sneered, referring to Percy Jackson, the newest camper at Camp Half-Blood. Since his arrival, she had taken a distaste for him.

Your eyes narrowed in response. "Why do you care?" you questioned, reaching for your sword.

Clarisse's grip on her spear tightened. "I just want to have a simple chat with him." She growled, stalking closer like a predator and their prey. "Where is he," she pressed.

You scoffed at her tempered response. "There's no way in hell, I'm telling you, Clarisse." For a moment, her eyes softened as her name left your lips.

She raised her spear, "Then you leave me no choice," she snarled. Taking a step towards you, "Get out of my way, princess," she warned. The nickname made the butterflies in your stomach flutter for a moment. Not now, you thought in your head, you have a job to do.

You raised your sword in response, praying she wouldn't be able to hear the falter in your voice. "Bring it."

The spear twirled in her grip in a practiced motion, and she lunged suddenly. Her blade shot forward with a blinding speed, aiming for your head.

Your eyes widened at her ruthlessness, "Are you trying to kill me?"

She smirked, "Don't take it personally, princess." Her eyes searched your face, "I just have a job to do."

You stepped back, dodging her quick attacks as if it was instinct. Your sword clashed with her spear, startling both parties.

Clarisse was knocked back slightly, and she grunted as her spear jarred in her hand. "Good," She breathed, her face tight with cold focus as she readied another attack, "At least you're not completely useless." The spear came forward once more, aiming for a blow to your stomach.

"Well, I had a decent teacher," you playfully grinned, referring to your lessons together.

Your lessons together... Clarisse thought, and a smile crept onto her face, her spear missing you by only inches as you managed to dodge out of the way.

"I taught you well," the daughter of Ares replied, her tone smug. She launched the weapon again with a forward thrust aimed at your chest.

"Yeah," you replied. "Thought I'd put those skills to good use."

"Good use?" Clarisse smirked before she attacked once more.

Clarisse was confident, cocky even. She was an experienced warrior. She knew she could defeat everyone, especially you, who had only just received a few lessons from her.

She came at you with another strike of the spear, hoping to end the fight quickly, secretly not wanting you to get injured.

"You're not gonna win this battle princess. Remember, I'm the one who taught you everything you know."

You rolled your eyes at her, "We'll see about that." The comment pushed you to take the offensive, swinging your sword in an attempt to disarm her.

Clarisse tsked as she was able to deflect the strike with the edge of her spear, though it left a small dent in the metal tip.

She chuckled and then countered with a series of stabs towards your heart, all of which you deflected as well.

"Pretty good," She said, her smile widening. As arrogant as she was, she was proud of your skills in battle, too. She had spent some much-needed time teaching you her methods, and there had been immense improvements in your skills on the battlefield.

You couldn't stop the blush that appeared on your cheeks at the compliment. I can't get distracted at a time like this you thought.

Clarisse noted the pink that crept on your cheeks for a moment before her attention was focused on the spear in her hand.

She was enjoying herself in this fight, a lot more than she thought she would. There was no rush, no feeling that she needed to finish this fight quickly. She was having fun, the same kind of fun that she had the last time you guys were in combat together.

"You've gotten better, you know," She muttered as she continued attacking you again, not letting you have the chance to catch your breath.

"Thanks," you reply hastily. Your mind drifts to what Annabeth told you before the game started. Distract Clarisse.

Clarisse's pride grew as you continued to attack her while also defending yourself. She was enjoying herself.

She moved forward even more, pressing herself against you more and more, forcing you to stay on your toes.

Your weapons clashed together, making your faces only inches apart.

"You know you can't win, right?" She whispered, her grip on her spear never faltering.

"Lose the battle, win the war," you whispered back, looking into her eyes.

Clarisse froze, her eyes locking on yours. Her mouth opened as she heard the sound of Chiron's horn in the distance, signifying the end of the games. She felt your breath on her neck, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized how close the two of you were.

She let out a curse, her smirk growing on her face. "You did good princess." A proud look adorned her features as she continued studying your face. Although she lost, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of your battle.

"Fuck."

#clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #pjo #pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #clarrise pjo #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #pjo x reader #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you #dior goodjohn

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nabitsun · 14 days

Text

MEDDLE ABOUT

ellie williams x fem reader

᭝ synopsis : you need something to ring some senses to you. a good argument and some good head.

᭝ tags : angst + smut: argument !! just ellie & her inability to be diligent when she opens her mouth & reader taking questionable decisions. drug consumption .

( @ ) is referred as y/n (used only twice).

᭝ wc : 4.1 k

᭝ notes : it literally unfolded in a sequence shot in my head and i couldn't get rid of it the more i was writing so yeah. dropping this rq :c

"come here," she taps her hand lazily on the soft cushion beside her, on her right.

she's got her elbows resting on both of her knees as she's leaning over the coffee table in front of her, paper wrap flat on the surface of the table with the filter already positioned.

"what are you doing?"

"what does it look like i'm doing?" she doesn't even spare a glance your way, too concentrated on filling the paper with cannabis diligently, the product pinched between her thumb and index.

"i told you i don't like it when you smoke while i'm here."

"and i don't like it when you go on dates with random fuckers but i'm sure it doesn't stop you from keeping up the act."

you cross your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to talk back though she's got a point that you obviously can't contradict. you don't really feel like sitting down so you would get shit thrown at your face when you've come here for the exact opposite.

"c'mon it's just weed ma," she finally looks at you, "besides i started before you even called me." she shakes her head in disapproval. her voice is faint but sore, the smell in her living room is not the only thing telling you this is surely not her first joint.

you let out a long breath as you finally decides to sit down, your arms still crossed when slouch down and bring your feet up on the couch, "you either fall asleep mid convo or get handsy when you're high." you sigh.

"hm, not my fault you always come at night." she half whispers, mindlessly.

you glance at the clock hanged up on the wall behind you, it's almost eleven. you turn to face her back, bringing your elbows up on the back of the couch and resting your jaw in your palm as you look at her shimmy the joint between her fingers until it gets a cylindrical shape. you figure she went out, still dressed in her open denim shirt, leaving plenty of room to contemplate her tattoo.

"so what's up?"

you open your mouth but only air comes out of it, "i don't know,"

"you do know, you wouldn't have come here otherwise."

"are you saying i only come over to complain?" you redress your head to sit better. she doesn't look at you anyways.

"i didn't say that. i'm glad you can connect the dots though." she glides her tongue along the paper wrap meticulously and all with the same care, folds the sticky side over creating a cone that she taps vertically on the surface of the table. a routine you've also picked up just by observation.

"i went out tonight."

she stays silent, though you see her movements come to a halt when the joint stays still, you see her head raising lightly, until it drops down the same way it was originally, low with her eyes on her crafting session.

"and,"

your resting hand which was once on your jaw finds its way behind your neck, massaging your nape as you start to regret even bringing up the subject. you don't have to say it out loud, she knows you've been on a date.

"and it was just awful."

"when is it not."

she twists the end of the joint before searching blindly for a lighter on the table, that she fails to find apparently as she gets a little more frustrated, cussing under her breath. you look around yourself to find the green lighter on the couch, behind her and so naturally in front of you. you pick it up and light it on, she turns around instinctively at the sound of the friction and looks at you with low eyelids, supposedly tired or already half stoned from her previous consumption.

it's the first time of the evening she fully looks at you, however she doesn't dwell on the moment and immediately takes the joint between her lips as she cups your hand to guide the flame towards the twisted end. she's too focused on the new spark igniting the paper to notice you focused on her face, tracing every lines with your eyes, and her hair half way up in a bun at the back of her head.

"what happened," she asks, though without any will to know in her voice. she turns around to turn her back to you as she previously was sat, getting rid of the ash in the ashtray on the table.

you shrug, not knowing where to begin though there's not much to say due to how short your evening had turned out to be.

"um, he invited me over, to his place–" you notice her nodding sarcastically as she takes her first inhale, "we had some drinks and talked, it was fine at first." you flip the lighter in your hands like a toy, distracting yourself with it. ellie doesn't answer, waiting for you to continue the anticipated story,

"then he started to act really creepy, kept staring at me, filling the glass with alcohol though i told him i've had enough. he tried to move things forward, getting me to his bedroom but.. i told him i had something that came up and had to go, you know."

she scratches the back of her ear swiftly before turning to her right slowly to face you, the smoke escapes past her lips which soon grows in ponds of small clouds, then dissipates thickly into the air.

"he told me he could drive me home, and insisted about three times at least, he didn't even want to open the door." you bring your knees even closer to your chest and rest your hand on your bare thighs, reminiscing the past events that occurred earlier.

she brings the joint back to her lips, locked between her index and thumb and drags another puff in silence. her brows are furrowed, as she nibbles on the inside of her cheek.

"did he touch you?"

maybe the few extra seconds you take to answer aren't welcomed because she turns around to face you entirely,

"that's a yes or no question ( @ ), did he?" her voice is so calm it contrasts too well with her cold stare, you don't know if it's truly out of annoyance but it makes you gulp down as you shift in place.

"he just grabbed me but i think he was just scared, i don't know. he was gentle though–"

"do you think i give a fuck if he was gentle?" she puts a hand on her knee and now you're certain she's got all your attention, she doesn't let anything pass her by.

"ellie, he didn't want to harm me or anything, i guess he's never done this kinda stuff before, he was awkward with it."

she laughs crudely, the sour noise resonates in her living room, "sure he was, i can assure you that your belief in the good man certainly stems more from your naivety than from any hidden philanthropy."

it's your turn to frown and redress yourself completely this time, letting loose of your legs as one hangs over the couch "what the fuck are you trying to say?"

"whatever, forget it." she shakes her head and exhales a long breath, tapping the joint over the ashtray one more time – though you doubt it was needed.

"no, tell me."

"i'm saying.. you've got a lot of trust in random men for someone who's done this i don't know how many times. you should know better, they don't want you any good."

"how can you be so pessimistic,"

"i'm realistic and you're trying to turn a blind eye for whatever fuckin' reason." she raises her brows, eyes low as she stares at the floor.

"why are you getting so worked up over that anyways?

she looks at you as if you've said the stupidest thing ever, she soon retracts at the end of the couch just the opposite from you as her back rests against the armrest.

"it's pissing me the fuck off to see you like that. you always do this." she breathes out, "always choosing the worst people on this planet to have a date with, makes me think you have a death wish or somethin'"

"looks like you'd know better, want you to choose for me?" you crack a smile faintly.

"i'm not playing this game ( @ ), the point is you need to stop this. stop going out with randoms you've known for less than two hours."

"i don't see why it's such a problem for you,"

"it becomes my problem the moment you open your mouth, you're fooling yourself if you think i'm not gonna do anything about it."

"i don't ask you to do anything. actually i don't want you to do anything about it, ellie."

"then why do you always talk to me about this kind of stuff? you always come here to complain about shits you obviously can't take care of so yeah, maybe i do have to step up."

your chest tightens at her words, as well as your eyes start to water automatically, one thing you didn't want to happen. you blink the imminent tears away.

"but i don't want you to take care of it? i'm only talking, can't we just talk?"

she shakes her head once again, "i don't see the point of talking over and over about the same things when you're very much aware of my point of view. what else do you want me to say."

"maybe don't say anything at all if it's to talk to me this way. acting like my fucking dad." you look away to stare at the living room, her guitar hanging on a wall. it reminds you of the times you two used to play and how enraged she would become learning songs. you chase the memory away.

"hey, i'm not acting like that, pretty. i'm acting like your friend. and i can't stay silent, you'd start thinking i'm giving you the green light." she balances her foot over to nudge yours, making the corner of your lips twitch lightly at the foolish contact.

"you think i need your permission?"

"i wish you would take it in account at least," she twirls the joint interlaced in her fingers, getting a better view of it apparently as she looks at it, "y'know, you either don't realize it or you refuse to see it, i don't know what's worse."

"i could say the same for smoking you know."

"what about it?"

"it messes you up and it messes me up."

she raises her brows with a chuckle, "what, weed? mh, no. don't worry about it. you don't need me to fuck yourself up, i trust you with that." she scoffs sourly.

"i'm serious, ellie."

"i'm sure you are, it's always when you're serious that you say the craziest things."

you stare at her intently but she refuses to meet your gaze, you're sick of today.

"fuck you, i'm leaving." you stand up on your feet and take your purse in your hands, too quick for ellie as she's only turning her head your way, "have fun burning out what's left of your brain cells."

"hey what—, come back here!"

you're soon out of the front door with your car keys in hands, fidgeting to find the right one to open the car doors. you didn't check the hour as you left the room but it certainly is past eleven and you'd prefer driving in the night than stay in ellie's presence tonight.

you open the door to the driver's seat and step in, throwing your bag on the side, closing the door. you don't start the engine just now, you inhale and exhale deeply, putting both of your hands on the steering wheel as your head lowers on it too, your forehead resting on the hard fabric.

you insert your keys to start the car, ready to get going but rather unexpectedly the passengers seat's door opens up abruptly, making you jump in place. you notice the tattooed arm immediately as it reaches over first to grab your purse and throw in in the backseats. the car shakes lightly as she enters and finally sits on your right, beside you.

"get out ellie, i'm going home."

"no i want you to talk to me." she throws her left arm behind her own headrest to look at you better, you stay focused on the road, or rather the infinite void that the darkness offers you.

"i'm done talking."

"be pissed off all you want, fuck if i care you're staying right here."

you reach over her seat to open her door for her, as she doesn't intent on leaving by herself anytime soon, but she's quick to close it immediately, cancelling your action. you narrow her eyes at her and stick your back to your own seat once again, crossing your arms as you also refuse to move.

"alright, stop the car," she's still looking at you, not assertively though, there's a lot more tenderness to her eyes this time, same with her voice.

"please. i'm sorry for what i said, i'll listen to you but you gotta be honest with me. okay?"

you turn off the engine. you hear her sigh, you don't want to look at her. the faint yellow lamp above the both of you is lighting up the whole car, or at least failing to do so as it is more or so almost as somber outside.

"hey, look at me, right here."

you roll your eyes but comply anyways, you turn your head.

"look i don't wanna fight with you, you know that right? i just, i'm really. really fuckin' sick of seeing you all hurt like that every time. i don't want anybody to hurt you, you understand? knowing you go out every week just to meet some pricks is just, making me.." she shakes her head, failing to get out the word out, she only grunts in frustration, "i wanna know something though."

you look at her silently, though you've acknowledged every each one of her words.

"what?" you say, just above a whisper.

"why are you doing this?"

however before you can even consider an answer she continues,

"and don't give me the usual crap, i want the truth. be sincere with me."

the tension in your shoulders ease up, though paradoxically you've grown even more tensed with her question. you uncross your arms and let your elbow rest on your door near the window to support your head. you secretly hope she's gonna drop it one minute from another, as the seconds passes you think – not of an excuse but of words – but she only sits there, looking at anything and everything peacefully.

"i've got the whole night, hope your car's comfortable." she presses her back against where it should be, staring in front of her.

you take a big breath, "i want.. i guess i just hope that, if i keep doing this.." you fingers play with the fabric of your dress, "if i do this maybe you'll snap out of it."

she glares at you for a few seconds, "snap out of what?"

"of this thing keeping you close enough to be my friend but far enough to .." you sigh, "to be something else."

you refuse to look at her, your face is boiling though it's hard to know if it's out of embarrassment, crippling sadness or annoyance.

"i've got another question," she faintly says, "why do you think i care that much about you going out?"

she looks at her hands, rubbing some scars away as if it would make them disappear, you shrug.

"c'mon don't make me say it, i know you can be a smart girl when you want to." she scoffs with a smile, and you notice how the both of you are in awkward positions, just some centimeters away from one another but incapable of facing each other.

"you don't have to say it," you murmur, letting a smile spread along your lips the same way, "i'll blame you getting handsy on the weed," you look at her and watch the light bulb lightning up her face when she gets the hint. she shifts in place, getting more comfortable as she tilts her head on the side with a smug smile.

"i'm sure you will." she whispers, her eyes shifts from your eyes to your lips, she blinks a few times before shaking her head softly, a light tug on her lips. you frown at her reaction,

"what?"

"can't believe those fuckers got to touch you before i did."

you part your lips to answer but your heaving breath gets caught in your throat, the same way that it gets suddenly dry, apprehending her next movements, her touch. you see her fingers tightening on her own seat, your face is getting closer to hers without you putting to much effort in it, like you're just pulled in like a magnet.

"c'mere, pretty." she mutters right before taking your face in her hands.

her lips find yours as her hands grab both sides of your face, lingering on your jaw to pull you closer to her. the kiss is long, languid and you have to put every effort to not make a sound. you feel her exhale through her nose, relieving the built up tension from prior your presume as her kisses grow more rapid and intense each seconds. your hands find her shirt, tugging on it in hope to get her to be closer – mind you, you're already glued to her.

"i hate it when you smoke." you whine, breaking off the kiss just to initiate another one not a second after. she slips her hand on your nape, her thumb brushing against your neck as her mouth travels down your jaw.

"yeah? show me better ´cause i don't think you're hating the right way right now."

she leaves wet patches on your neck, lapping the sensitive skin as you fight back noises that only comes out muffled. her other hand slides down your waist to try and pull you closer despite the obvious console box blocking the way.

"ok fuck that. backseat, now." she rushes out of breath and you don't wait a second more as you pull your body up to the center of the car and crawl the best your can to the back of the car. she follows you immediately and you both regain your previous positions, you on the left and her on the right.

she easily slides her hand on your thigh as she's back on your mouth, lifting your sundress on the way and you automatically part your legs apart lightly.

"next time use your words, i promise you it's a lot more effective, ok?" she looks at you, eyelids heavy and chest rising up and down rapidly, "don't put you through things like that ever again, for anybody."

you stare at her for some seconds before nodding, as you put your lips on hers once again, starving for the feeling. you bring her closer by pulling at her shirt underneath and she cages herself right in between your legs, supporting her body with her hand on the seats. you lean back against the window under the weight, and you feel her fingers going up until they reach the sides of your panties, her fingers are digging in the skin of your hips.

"you're gonna let me make you feel good? i wanna take care of you." she breathes out right against your lips, leaving a few pecks in between.

"yeah, yes p-please," you whine, getting impatient.

she lowers her head and pulls back from you completely, resting her butt on her ankles to admire you, "good, i'm gonna treat you the way you deserve it, alright?" she lifts your dress up, letting you panties to appear visible and slides her hand up and down your clothed entrance, making your legs jolt slightly from the contact as you exhale sharply through your nose.

she leans in again to kiss your neck, then moves down your collarbones and traces along the lines of them. you slouch back down until your head rests flat against the seats as she puts your panties to the side, you grab onto her shoulders the best you can when she begins to glide her fingers up and down along your wet entrance. you moan softly at the touch and you push your legs farther against your chest to give her better access.

she rests on her other hand as she looks at the way your slick coats her fingers with the same repetitive movements, bringing them up to your clit and circling it painfully slow, making your back arch as you seek for the contact. your mouth opens silently as you grab her forearm, digging your fingers in her flesh. her middle finger finds your entrance and she pushes it all the way in gently, curling it when it reaches her knuckle and pushes it all the way out, pumping her finger in and out of you nonchalantly.

"'s good, so fuckin' good." you whimper silently, trying to block your voice away.

she brings her eyes on you with a smirk, "yeah? let me hear you," she pulls away from you once again to get a better view as she watches her finger disappear past your folds, "let me hear how good i make you feel."

you feel another finger pushing against your hole and you know she's doing it on purpose just so you could grant her wish, which you miserably success to accomplish as you throw. your head back with a moan. she's two fingers deep inside of you and speeds up as she sees the way your body moves around like a worm, contorting all over the place.

"that's my girl," she mumbles more to herself, though you hear it, making your walls clench around her fingers.

"ffuck, i'm getting— i'm gettin' c-close," you bring your legs back against your chest for better access as you feel heat spreading all over your lower abdomen, tightening into a tight knot. however if you thought she'd give you what you want immediately that would have been way too candide of you, to imagine she would willingly let you come in less than ten minutes ; to your dismay she slows the pace down until she pulls back entirely, leaving you empty.

"keep your hands right there." she nods, where they sit on the back of your thighs to keep them spread apart.

you can't even protest as she crouches down, chest touching the seats and back arching when she grabs your thighs, bringing you closer to her mouth. she once again pushes your panties to the side and wastes no time in lapping your cunt vigorously, the fat of her tongue pressing flatly against your entrance, all the way up to your clit just like she did with her fingers previously.

your hand finds her head, you push back the few strands of hair falling out messily – though you doubt she even cares –, she flicks your clit with the wet tip of her tongue, right to the left, left to the right, sucking on it and you let out a choked sob at the sensation. she pushes her tongue all the way down to your entrance until she practically fucks you with it, bringing her free hand to swirl her finger around your clit, making you cry out from pleasure.

"fuck—fuck ellie !"

she keeps up with the quick pace until your belly tightens for the second time, you arch your back as your muscles flex from the tension when you come right on her tongue, she continues to stimulate your inside as her hand caresses your thigh.

"there you go. handled it like a g, huh?" she smiles at you. too fucked out to speak though you bring your hands to your face, wiping the remains of tears, away from the corner of your eyes as you breathe deeply to get back down.

"had a long day right?" she kisses your inner thigh, backing up as she fixes your panties and your dress. you only hum in response when she pulls you up with a hand behind your head.

"stay over tonight. i'll carry you back home." she presses a chaste kiss on your forehead.

©nabitsun !

#divider by anitalenia #ellie x you #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou oneshot #ellie oneshot #ellie williams angst #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #tlou smut #tlou ellie

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dreamlifebunny · 1 year

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manifestation ideas: revising the past

revision is a beautiful, life-affirming part of the law of assumption that reminds us that nothing is to be feared, because everything is changeable at all times. i ignored revision for so long in the beginning of my loass journey because i was afraid it was "too illogical" (classic), but after testing it last year it became one of the most healing things i've ever done for myself! you can find posts on revision all over tumblr, reddit, and most importantly, in this reading by neville. (let it be known that this post references bullying and abuse if you'd rather skip this - keep yourself safe!)

you can revise that you never watched your favourite tv/movies, read your favourite books, or listened to your favourite albums so that you get to experience them all over again for the first time!

nobody remembers any embarrassing or cringey moments that you have had (because they didn't happen!) or better yet, any of these moments have been revised to be happy and fun moments.

any former rejections have been revised; job offers, school offers, grants and applications have now all been accepted!

your family has been revised to be your absolute dream family; full of love, abundance, fun family adventures, togetherness and connection, support, and kindness. you can also revise your past so that you've always had younger or older siblings, if you grew up an only child and wanted siblings.

former bullies from school or work have come back to genuinely apologize for the hurt that they have brought you and offer reconciliation in whatever way you desire, whether that is publicly; in front of your school/colleagues, in a heartfelt letter expressing their regret, with an insane e-transfer of money (hehe), or any other desired way. either way, you get to see the regret that they feel and know that they have changed and wish they never hurt you (you can do this with abusers as well, if you feel comfortable with it - you never have to see those people again if you'd prefer they don't contact you to apologize, or you can revise it so that you never met them or never experienced them that way)

your loved one's pains or hurts can be revised so that they never happened.

you can revise your memories so that you have always experienced your family and loved ones in positive ways, or you can make it so that you remember the past and now get to experience the beautiful present!

didn't like the way a show or film ended? revise the ending so that your dream conclusion happened!

you can revise that your SP has been in love with you from the start!

your previous manifestation attempts that "failed" have been revised so that your desires came true, and your previous void state attempts that "failed" have been revised so that you already entered the void, and can now enter at any time!

#manifestation #law of assumption #neville goddard #loa #loassumption #void state #edward art #manifest #void #things to manifest #manifesting #law of consciousness #loass #bunny's originals

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mrsrdlw · 2 months

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“Will you forgive me, please?”

Warnings: angst; eddie and reader are in a one year relationship; reader almost burst from stress; verbal fight; happy ending (the only right way, cuz i can’t stand when it ends sadly:)), no use of y/n (she is referred as sweetie/sweetheart), let me know if i’m missing something something

wc: 1.9k

summary: Reader is going crazy with how much is going on on her life. Studying for the final exams, work with terrible people. But on a weekend, when Eddie comes without warning you, you both fought for the first time in your relationship.

Being Eddie's girlfriend was the best part of your life. You loved him and the way he treated you. You've been together for a year now and, between this time, you got to know all sides of him. Goofy, funny, kind, sexy. But you've never seen him get mad. Pissed? Of course! All the time, he would be complaining about things or cursing other people who were assholes with him. But he was never mad, at least not with you.

But there was one specific time when you were having a terrible week. With the final exams, not to mention you mentoring other students, you were one step away from losing it. And there was your boss giving you the same speech all week because one of your co-workers snitched you for kissing your boyfriend at work. It was just a smooch!

"This girl's a bitch. Probably never touched a dick in her life!" That's what Eddie said to you.

But, by the end of the week, you were on edge. And being busy all the time, you never got the chance to spend a single minute with your boyfriend. But he would have to wait, the finals were more important now. Eddie didn't seem to agree. He showed up at your door with movies in his hands.

"Hey sweetie, i'm sorry i'm a little late. Had to kick some ass to get out of Family Video" You just hummed, trying to understand what was wrong with your calculus. "I'm great, thanks for asking!"

On his way he, unfortunately, met Jason at the same place. He didn't actually fought him, just some heated exchange of words. It got him a little pissed, but he was going to spend the night with you, so he pretended that he was fine. He was hoping that you would make him feel better.

"Eddie you can put the movie, i don't mind, but i'll not pay attention. I really need to review this"

"Yeah sweetheart, whatever you say" Of course. He was not listening, looking for some candies in your cabinet.

He sat by your side and kept talking to you. You were trying so hard not to cut him off, you really missed him, but you couldn't allow yourself that privilege of five minutes making out with him. So by the end of the first movie he brought, he started to say some curious facts about it but you let out a groan. "Fuck. Why physics were so hard?” You thought to yourself.

"Alright, stop. What the fuck? I've be trying to talk to you for the whole week, but you were too busy. Now that is your time to relax you're going to keep studying?" He said with a serious tone. At first you were quiet, waiting for him to calm down so you would not fight. But he said, louder this time "Say something, damn it!"

"What do you want me to say Eddie? I need to-" you were cut out

"Please, don't you think you studied enough? The whole week, is all you've been doing. You’re gonna burst into flames from thinking too much."He was now facing you, your book long forgotten as the both of you started to lose it.

"Well, for some of us, the constancy is required! I am not doing very good in this subject. I'm just trying to do my best and you should be doing the same." He shifted his body and giggled in a sarcastic way.

"Oh yes, let's remember that i was held back. So original. That's very dirty bellow the belt of you sweetheart." His facial expression was full of disappointment and anger.

"Can you not contort my words? I said as you should be doing your best too so you don't get held back again!" You regretted the time you said it. It was dirty of you and his eyes were not looking into yours anymore. "I know i was not very present this week, but can't you just wait 'till the goddamn exams to end. I don't know what happened for you be so rude but you shouldn't be taking it out on me!"

He was not looking at you, fidgeting with his rings, thinking of the right thing to say so you could stop fighting.

"All i wanted was to spend time with you, what the fuck is wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong, is just that i told you that i needed to get good at this."

"That's the fucking point, there's nothing to get better at, you've been working on it for so long, there is nothing new to see! Fuck, you’re not even answering when i talked to you."

"Stop being fucking dramatic Eddie! Do you think i like this, the way that i'm on the edge right now? Fighting with my boyfriend and friends, not having a fucking second to breathe because it feels like everything i do is wrong?"

"And i am the one dramatic. Let me give you a heads up. It's not the end of the fucking world if you fail a test. Besides, you couldn't do it even if you tried. You had to have sucked in the other tests to be held back, like me."

"Oh my god! Why don't you grow up a little and see how this is important to me? Look, we both are angry for some reason and are not in conditions to talk. I think is the best for the both of you for you to leave. So we don't hurt ourselves anymore."

"You always have to be so good and solve every damn problem, right? Only so in the end i can be the bad guy. Honestly, why are you the one to say what we should or shouldn't do?"

"Because it's my fucking house and i want you to leave!"

At this point, after wrestling and yelling at each other, you were with tears in your eyes panting without knowing what to do. Eddie gulped, stepped back and, not saying a word, he left.

The tears were rolling down your cheeks. Now there was no way you would focus on physics. You regretted so much. All the words said in the heat of the moment. You didn't mean any of them. And he probably didn't. You both said things to hurt each other in order to be right. Eddie was definitely upset about something, not just the lack of your attention. But now was not the time to find out.

——————

After a week, you finish every school exam and were finally free from school. And back in work, your co-worker was fired. She was caught fucking a random guy that you didn’t know on the boss’s office . “Guess Eddie was wrong” you thought giggling but getting upset the second after. You both have been avoiding each other. Eddie didn’t want to bother you and you didn’t want to hurt him. But it was time. You were tired of tearing up every time you remembered your fight.

So, at the end of your shift, you drove to the trailer park. It was the first time you fought and you hated. The feeling was that, at any second, you would lose him.

Knocking at his door, you stood there, waiting for him.

“Coming.” You heard his muffled voice. When he opened the door, he had an annoyed expression that shifted to a concerned one once he saw it was you. He was shirtless, wet hair and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. You didn’t know if it was because of the long week not seeing him, but he looked incredibly handsome. “Hey” It was the only thing he could say, surprised by your appearance.

“Hi… Can we talk.” You said hesitant, not knowing where to start.

“Sure. Please” He opened the door wider letting you in. Guiding you on the couch, where you both sat in awkward silence. It didn’t even look like you two were together for a long time. “I assume you’re here to talk about last weekend.” You nodded trying your best not to cry already which was really hard because of the way he looked at you.

“Look Eddie, i don’t even know where to start. We both lost our senses and said terrible things we shouldn’t. I honestly feel like-“ A feeling you grew accustomed in the past week grew in your throat. You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “I felt like i was losing my mind and that everything i was doing was wrong. You were right. I was taking too much at once and i couldn’t take it.”

“No no no. Sweetheart, i was the wrong one. I was worried about you and my own shit and i put that on your shoulders.” He said whipping your cheeks. “And as i usually do, to run away from my problems, i pretended that none of that was happening and didn’t realize how important studying was for you. I am truly sorry for that and for the fight.”

You hugged him tightly. His hands surrounded your waist and his nose nestled on your neck, sniffing your sent. He’d missed you deeply. “I’m sorry too” you said softly and moving away just enough to see his face. “I just want you to know that i don’t meant shit from what i’ve said. That was awful of me. I felt awful. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course i forgive you, sweetie. I was supposed to be the one apologizing. I also didn’t mean any of that crap. You forgive me too?” He said giving you a smirk that made you giggle.

“Yes. But only if you tell me why you were so worked up that night.”

“Oh shit, you’re right. My week was not great either. You know how much i hate finals. Before going to yours, i stopped at Family Video and i met with Jason Carver. And well, you know the story, he calls me a freak and i pretend that he hurt my feelings. But that night, he started to talk shit about us, like you were way out of my league. And until then i was like, tell me something i don’t know. But then the son of a bitch called you a whore and that you probably sold yourself for one fuck in exchange for a review of any subject. And i was like “what the fuck dude?”. I just lost my mind. Thank the metal gods that Steve stopped me from beating his face.”

“Oh my god! You could have told me” You don’t even know why you said that. You literally fought because you were too into your studies.

“It’s alright. He normally doesn’t piss me off. But I just can’t accept him talking shit about you. As if he knew you enough to call you a whore.”

The good thing is that you got back to normal and cuddled for the rest of the day. Eddie wanted to stay close to you as much as he could, so he asked begged for you to stay over. So here you were, before going to sleep telling how much you loved each other.

“Good night baby” Even in the dark room, you could see his beautiful eyes looking at you with so much love

“Good night Eds” Closing your eyes ready to sleep, felling your man’s hand caressing you, you were sure that you were in heaven. Out of the sudden you remembered.

“Eds!” You turned fast to him scaring him a little “You won’t believe what happened.”

“What?” Poor man, he was half asleep. You giggled at his confused face.

“Apparently, that girl from work did a lot more than touching dick…”

“I told you she was a bitch. A man knows”

“Shut up”

*if you have any ideas/request/sugestions; please sent it to me, my inbox is open. :)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie x you #angst with a happy ending #light angst #angst

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merchelsea · 8 months

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just maybe - lewis hamilton

pairing: ex!lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: lewis misses what you used to be, and what a better way to show it than showing up, drunk, at your house?

author’s note: felt like writing lewis today because not enough people do!

word count: 1,1k

you lay on your couch, your phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram feed for what felt like the thousandth time that day. you knew there wouldn't be anything new, but you couldn't help yourself. you had been in the same position all day, unable to shake off the melancholy that had settled over you.

it had all started because you wanted to watch a romantic movie, a harmless way to pass the time. but as the movie played on, you found yourself crying, wishing desperately for a happy ending like the one onscreen. you and lewis used to have those moments, those beautiful moments that now only existed in your memories.

every scene in the movie triggered a bittersweet memory. they weren't sad memories, per se, but the fact that they were over made them so. you decided it was time to stop torturing yourself, to stop watching movies that made you cry over your ex, and to simply wait for something to happen. but, of course, nothing did.

that is, until you heard a series of knocks on your door. you rushed to answer it, expecting it to be a friend or maybe your sister. but when you laid eyes on the familiar brown ones you had been crying over just hours ago, shock coursed through you.

"heeeeey," lewis slurred, clearly intoxicated. fate seemed to be playing a cruel prank on you.

you stared at him for a few moments before finally finding your voice. "what the heck are you doing here?" you asked, blocking his path from entering your home.

lewis smirked knowingly. "oh, didn't seb warn you?" he said, referring to his friend vettel, who must have sent you a message the moment he knew lewis was drunk and thinking about you.

because that's what happened when he got drunk. he'd think back to your relationship and regret every detail that had gone wrong. vettel always thought lewis would try to contact you, but he never had the courage to do it—until today.

lewis had qualified third in a race after a series of unfortunate events, finally giving him a shot at victory. but, unpredictably, he had to retire from the race on the first lap.

"I missed you." lewis confessed, leaning against your doorframe as if aware of how powerful those words were.

"you don't know what you're saying, lewis," you sighed. you had spent the last seven months dreaming of hearing those words from him, but this was not how you imagined it.

"oh, I know exactly what I'm saying. believe me," he insisted.

"you're drunk!" you retorted.

"and? that doesn't change the fact that I think about you all the time. about us. about what we used to be," he said, refusing to give up.

you stood there silently, thinking he would back off if you didn't give him a hint of what you were feeling. but of course he had other plans. you sighed and stepped back from the door, allowing lewis to enter. he leaned against the closed door, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from his.

"I miss you when I'm at the simulator, and you're not there to beat my ass. I miss you when I go to lunch and forget to eat because I'm distracted by your smile. I miss you when toto speaks german, and we don't make jokes about it. I miss you when I'm walking, and our legs aren't in sync. I miss you when I wear my hats, and you're not there to steal them. I miss you when I see a cat on the streets, and you don't try to convince me to adopt it. I miss you when Max wins, and you're not there to congratulate him."

you were rendered speechless. every word he uttered, as he gazed deeply into your eyes, pierced your heart. you couldn't look away, but you feared that if you continued to stare, you wouldn't be able to let him go.

"I know I seem drunk, but this is the most truthful thing I've said in, like, forever. it's been almost eight months, and I still miss you in everything I do," he finally stood up and, somehow, managed to get closer to you. "tell me you don't miss me, and I'll never bother you again."

you took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. it was clear he had been drinking, but not enough to make him drunk. his little play could fool everyone, but it would never fool you.

you knew you missed him with every fiber of your being, but you weren't sure if it was the right thing to say. maybe, just maybe, he needed to move on, to find someone else who fit into his life.

but then, a voice inside your head reminded you that if he hadn't moved on after seven months without any contact, he probably wouldn't after eight. you couldn't lie to him when he had been missing you relentlessly for seven months.

"I miss you when I'm doing laundry, and I don't find your shirt in the wrong basket. I miss you when I'm taking a shower and don't hear the pre-qualifying comments. I miss you when I see a Mercedes on the road. I miss you when I play uno with my friends, and you don't win. I miss you when you're racing, and I'm at home, but not because I have things to do. I miss you when I'm not missing you because of racing."

you also took a step closer to him. "then let me make you miss me the right way again, please."

as you stood there, locked in a moment of intense longing and emotion, you realized that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment you had been waiting for. lewis had come back, admitting his feelings, and you couldn't deny your own.

with tears welling up in your eyes, you took another step closer to him. in that moment, you both understood that some things were too strong to be denied or forgotten, no matter how much time had passed.

you whispered softly, "lewis, I'll miss you no matter what, so please make me miss you the right way."

lewis' eyes lit up with hope and joy, and he gently pulled you into his arms. as you embraced, you both knew that this was a chance to have a fresh start, to rebuild what you once had. it wouldn't be easy, and there were still obstacles to overcome, but you were both willing to try.

in that moment, as you held each other tightly, you realized that sometimes, fate had a way of bringing people back together, even when it seemed impossible. and maybe, just maybe, this was the happy ending you had been longing for all along.

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aluraveil · 1 year

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♡ Poly relationship with Yandere Fyodor, Nikolai, and Sigma!! ♡

If you were the darling of 3 of the 5 members of the Decay of Angels, it would be pretty bad luck for you.

All 3 of them are very possessive of you just like any other yandere. All 3 of them aren't very strict with you, the only rule is that escaping isn't allowed. Fyodor, Nikolai, and Sigma all know that there's no escaping from them with their vast connections and excellent combat skills plus the thousands of people under their command. They're confident that even if you somehow manage to escape, they can easily bring you back. If somehow they still can't find you, they might even pay a visit to Fitzgerald and "borrow" his Eyes of God.

Fyodor is the scariest one out of the trio. Unlike Nikolai, he doesn't necessarily give off a very friendly vibe. Fyodor gives off a don't-piss-me-off-or-you-will-regret-it vibe. It looks like Fyodor is always staring at you and judging you secretly with his challenging and cold gaze.

Fyodor often likes testing you, such as leaving the front door unlocked or even giving you an opportunity to escape. The first time you took the opportunity you were immediately caught and dragged back. Fyodor was dissapointed with you and you certainly didn't want to see him angry.

Fyodor sometimes even flirts with you just to mess with you and to see your reaction. It makes him laugh whenever he sees you blushing or getting nervous.

Fyodor can be pretty sweet with you sometimes and he loves giving you gifts! For your birthday he got you cake and flowers which made you happy. Fyodor glanced in awe at you as you happily ate cake without a care in the world.

Fyodor often calls you his Myshka (little mouse) as a nickname for you. It's only right for him because he's the leader of the Rats of the House of the Dead.

One time you even went with him into the underground base and you saw him typing away with a huge computer setup. Whenever you're at the base, Fyodor wants you to be in the same room. Under different circumstances, he would let you roam around but the underground tunnels were easy to get lost in and he wants to be able to have you at arms length.

This other time you were walking with Fyodor when he was giving out instructions to some of his underlings. You remember when you met some guy named Ivan and he gave off a pretty weird vibe.. you also heard from Pushkin that he was a "total nut case"..

Nikolai is the chillest one out of the trio. He's funny and he shows you tons of magic tricks. You could even fall for him if he wasn't a terrible person plus him being one of your captors.

Nikolai is pretty entertaining and there's never a dull moment with him. You entertain his silly theatrics and he always knows when to make you laugh. Nik's always messing with you by using that stupid coat ability of his. One time, he even grabbed your leg as a joke and he started tickling it. You bursted out laughing both from it being funny but it lowkey creeped you out. Especially with the look he gave you where he grinned really widely and started lifting his eyebrows up and down in a way.

One time, you tried escaping from Nikolai by running into a store and he contacted Fyodor and Sigma letting them know of the instance. Next thing you know, Fyodor and Sigma are laughing their asses off behind a computer screen on the security cameras at the way Nikolai messes with you by having random objects fall on top of you. You're scared shitless when Nikolai decides to drop a random mouse on you..

This other time Nikolai had wanted to show you something during one of his missions that he dragged you along too. Nikolai was recording some video in a meeting room with government officials. You couldn't help but laugh your ass off when Nikolai messed up during the recording session especially since it was live.

"Oh no! An on-air-oopsy! Quick stop the camera, I can't go on any longer!"

You couldn't help but feel bad for the "tiger boy" (as Nikolai referred to him as) when he got hit by a pole as a result of Nikolai's ability..

Sigma is the most lenient one of the trio. For instance, he grants you more freedom than the other trio members and he forgives you a lot more if you make a mistake and you're sincerely sorry about it.

Sigma often has you sit on his lap while he's busy at his desk at the Sky Casino. Whenever Sigma is busy with other things besides paper work, he'll even give you some money and let you roam around the casino.

You have fun playing with the machines and Sigma might even rig one of them to have you win the jackpot. He might even be watching you through the camera and smile at how happy you look when you win.

You're gonna be pretty confused when you see random explosions plus some weird people claiming themselves to be "Hunting Dogs".. especially when you head back to Sigma's office and see a random hole in the wall with Sigma panicking. Who knows what was even going on? Being around the Decay of Angels had its fair share of strange experiences so you weren't surprised when weird things happened in the Sky Casino..

Should you be worried when you spot a pink haired girl who could magically age herself up?..

Hm.

Nah.

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lovelytsunoda · 1 year

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one of the boys // charles leclerc

summary: she's worked for ferrari for four years now. four years that only let her feelings for their number one driver grow stronger and stronger, until she wishes that charles leclerc would stop seeing her as just one of the boys, and start seeing her the way that she sees him

pairing: charles leclerc x mechanic! reader

warnings: ferrari fuckups, sexual tension, sad charles, actually charles goes through a whole range of emotions, matchmaker seb, mentions of workplace harassment, set in the 2022 season when charles won australia, sexual innuendos and references.

she sat on the halo, her feet resting against the seat as she leaned over the engine compartment, her boiler suit tied off around her waist and her hair pinned to the back of her head as the bahrain sun beat down.

ferrari had bottled it again. which meant double-duty for the pit crew to fix it for jeddah.

the radio hummed softly in the background as she cursed, losing her grip on the ratchet. when the engine fried itself, it had also made the parts a lot harder to take apart.

"fucking hell." she groaned, resting her head against the cool, red body of the car. "vasseur was supposed to fix this."

"what are you still doing here? you should have left at least an hour ago?"

the movement in the garage, as well as the voice breaking the almost-silence was enough to get her to look up, heart hammering against her ribcage.

the same annoyingly alert reaction that she'd had to his presence for the last two years.

"charles. what are you doing here?"

"hiding." the driver smiled sadly. the balaclava lines had faded fomr his face, but she could still see the sweat in his hair, the scent of the race mingling with his team-sponsored cologne. "you know how it is after a weekend like this."

"yeah, i do." she could feel the blush creeping onto her face, and she subtly pinched herself to try and make it go down. charles leclerc couldn't give her butterflies, it wasn't right. technically speaking, he was her superior.

but that didn't change how much she cared about him, how much she longed to feel the monegasque's lips against hers

"you should not be working. come out with the rest of us, we're getting drinks and commiserating. did i use that word right?"

it was hard for y/n not to smile at charles' attempt to learn the english language. he had a fantastic grip on the language, but when he tried to use larger words to sound cooler, it was usually followed up with uncertainty, all adding to what she liked to call his 'boston terrier energy'.

"yeah, you got that one right." she chuckled, dismounting the car, pain rocketing through the nerves in her feet as she hit the ground too hard. "that's a beauty of a car. such a shame that the scuderia doesn't know how to treat it properly."

standing next to charles, she was all too aware that she was wearing nothing but a sports bra on the top half of her body, and she wondered if she could pull her boiler suit back on without charles noticing.

charles snorted. "try driving that thing."

she patted him on the shoulder, a sad smile on her face. "give me ten minutes to go put some proper clothes on, and then we'll go out somewhere. drinks are on me, god knows you deserve it."

______

"seb, i don't know what to do!" y/n groaned, face against the tabeltop as the german man laughed.

sebastian vettel had been the closest thing she had to a father when she was on the road with the scuderia. in all fairness, the job with ferrari hadn't even been what she went to school for. she had picked engineering at college because it was what everybody else was doing, and she'd stumbled upon this job by accident with the promise of travel. when she was starting to regret everything, it had been sebastian who had convinced her to stay.

"ugh, this is so not funny!" she shouted, throwing her arms in the air and wincing as her knuckle banged against the shop window. they were in a quaint little café in fiji ahead of the australian grand prix, and y/n was in need of some serious advice.

but to get advice from seb, you needed to bribe him with coffee first. hence why they were in the rustic cafe, every bare surface covered in plants that sebastian had spent ages talking to the manager about.

sebastian vettel was a nerd. in a good way, of course.

"you're a lovely young woman, y/n. you have a nice figure."

"does hanna know you're out here complimenting younger women?" she joked, taking a sip from her strawberry lemonade.

sebastian laughed, shaking his head. "you need to let everybody else see that side of you, y/n. let your hair down, wear a nice pair of jeans for once instead of that boiler suit. let the world see the lovely girl that we all know is there."

"i'm going to miss you when you retire."

"i know, kiddo. listen, we're all going out after the race, to have drinks and whatever. go out with hanna, buy yourself a nice new dress on my credit card, and then come out for drinks with us. i guarantee that one look at you will whip charles into shape. you're a catch, y/n. i think that charles would be lucky to have someone like you in his life."

"i'm already a part of his life. as a work friend. and i'm accepted that i'm not likely to be anything more."

seb raised an eybrow. "doesn't sound like it."

in another bar, on another part of the small island of fiji, carlos and charles were having a very similar conversation.

"carlos, i can't make a move! technically, i'm higher ranking at ferrari than she is. there's a power imbalance, what if she feels like she can't say no? it's a harassment case waiting to happen!" charles whined, a pint glass clutched in his hands.

carlos shook his head, an annoyed sigh escaping the back of his throat. "you're an idiot, hermano. she's in love with you! you think you're the only person who sees her staring at you in the garage?

"forgive me if that's not something i want to be wrong about. i could be staking our careers on your little hunch."

groaning, carlos buried his head in his hands. getting through to his teammate was a hopeless and futile affair. once charles leclerc was set in his ways about something, there was no changing his mind.

"what about the party in australia? ask her to dance, buy her a drink? you're not getting any younger, charles. you need to get back out there and start dating again."

______

as f1 descended on albert park, the glitz and glamour taking over melbourne, y/n y/l/n and hanna vettel were standing in a small, glitzy boutique, armed with hanna's husband's credit card. the young ferrari mechanic was standing in front of a floor-length mirror, her hair falling around her shoulders.

"hanna, i don't know how i feel about this." she inhaled, staring at her reflection and the ferrari red dress that hugged her figure. "i love it, honestly, i do, i just cringe at the thought of ever wearing it outside of the house. especially if i;m in front of charles!"

hanns sighed, brushing her fingers through the younger girl's hair. "have a little bit of faith in yourself, darling. you look stunning, this dress shows off all your best physical attributes, and charles already knows your best qualities."

"yeah, because who else is going to sing nineties stoner rock songs in the car on the way to the track with me?" y/n laughed, remembering singing ‘teenage dirtbag’ with charles on their way to the track in jeddah, a carpool with some of the other mechanics. charles barely knew the words, but then again, y/n got them wrong a lot as well. “yeah, okay. lets do this fucking thing.”

hanna grinned. “that’s our girl!”

hours later, she was regretting her decision, standing in front of the club in her baggy leather jacket, shaky knees knocking together as she stood outside the front door in her heels and that tiny little dress, voices and laughter wafting through the walls as the inside hummed with the rarity of a ferrari victory. she nervously tapped her fingers against the side of her purse as a group of haas mechanics crossed the parking lot, wolf whistling at her before she flipped them both the bird.

“are you coming inside, or are you just going to stand there and freeze your balls off?”

“oh, if only I had balls to freeze. and this is bloody australia, its not even that cold.” y/n chuckled to herself, turning to look at jessica hawkins, one of the aston martin young drivers. “I need someone to remind me that I dont look stupid in this goddamn dress that hanna vettel picked out for me.”

jessica cocked an eyebrow, looking the mechanic up and down. “babes, you look hot! who are you trying to impress?”

“charles.” y/n mumbled, her face flushing pink before she cleared her throat. “its stupid, isn’t it?”

the other young woman shook her head. “not at all.” she grinned, linking her arm through y/n’s. “come on, lets go get you your man!”

the inside of the club was crowded, yet closed to the public as f1, f2, and the w series descended on the establishment. all of the f3 drivers were too young to legally drink, and had made their displeasure quite clear as they were herded away to an italian restaurant instead of the club.

"drinks for the lovely ladies?" abbie eaton chortled, bringing tequila shots over to where the mechanic and jessica were standing. "cheers on three, yeah?"

jessica sounded off with the countdown, the three women tapping the tiny glasses against each other before throwing back the burning alcoholic drink.

"if i'm going to do this," y/n began, raising her voice to be heard over the drake song that was playing. "i'm doing it right!" she took off her jacket, throwing it over a chair before she made her way over to the dj booth, her ballet flats sticking to the floor.

after a whispered conversation (and a monetary bribe), wheatus' 2000 hit 'teenage dirtbag' began to play over the speakers as y/n and jessica took to the floor, champagne flutes in hand as they began to dance.

from across the way, under the deep blue lights, charles leclerc was in a trance as he watched the way she moved, laughing and giggling as she sang along, finally getting each word right. adn charles would be lying if he said he didn't love the way her legs looked in that short little dress, how full her breasts looked in the red fabric that cradled them.

"is he still being a pussy?" pierre gasly groaned. "come on, man! you won the fucking race, and that's still not giving you the confidence you need to tell her you have a crush on her?"

"i'd rather not embarrass myself too much, thank you pierre." charles grumbled, taking another sip of his fruity mixed drink.

"he won't even drink proper alcohol." carlos commented. "i think she broke him."

pierre shook his head. "i will not stand for this, i am not letting it go on any longer. ilies!" he shouted, waving over his best friend- save for charles of course- and social media manager. "we need you to do something for us, for charles."

ilies nadri nodded. "it's about that girl he keeps talking about, isn't it?"

"exactly. so here's what you're going to do."

back on the dancefloor, y/n was beginning to forget that charles was watching, laughing and singing with jessica as the dj began to play 'toxic' by britney spears, at a drunken lando norris' request.

"looks like you've got an admirier. and it's not charles." nerea marti pointed out, nudging her head in the direction of ilies nadri, who was beginning to make his way over to the girls.

"well, if charles isn't interested." jessica shrugged, calpping her on the shoulders. "you look too pretty tonight to go home alone if you don't want to, and it looks like there's a good looking bloke who wants to join ya."

moments blurred as nadri took y/n's hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and making her laugh with a french come-on, and before she knew it they were dancing to britney.

and she had forgotten about him, about the reason she wore that red dress in the first place.

but charles never forgot about her, his eyes boring into the back of ilies' head as he watched them dancing to a christina aguilera song. his grip was steadily tightening on his glass, and carlos looked over at him with a concerned glance.

"are you sure that getting her to dance with ilies was the smartest idea?" carlos whispered under his breath, raising his eyebrow at pierre. "he's going to break the fucking glass."

"or, he'll get jealous and go over there." pierre reasoned.

"how the fuck do you have a girlfriend, gasly?"

but pierre's reasoning must have been rooted in proof, for charles put down his glass and tromped over to the dance floor, his eyes a certain shade of jealous as he prepared himself to finally make a move.

he didn't speak, sweeping over the dancefloor to grab y/n's arm and pull her away from ilies and away from the dancefloor and it's illuminated vinyl flooring.

"charles, what is wrong with you?" y/n shouted, tispy on her feet and buzzing from alcohol as she tried to ignore the way her chest tightened and her heart skipped a beat at charles' possessiveness.

"i'm in love with you." he blurted out, desperation in his voice. "and i'm tired of hiding how i feel. i don't care how it looks to the outside, or to mattia, but i want to be with you. you were never just one of the boys to me, y/n. you were just you. and i like who i am with you. i want to be able to be that person for you, all the time."

"charles." she said softly, heart softening before starting and stopping again in an erratic beating pattern that would have worried her if she could have heard the beating over the refrain of charles' confessions playing on loop in her mind, louder and louder each time. "just kiss me."

and that's what charles did, an *nsync song playing in the background as he mashed his lips to hers, backing her up against the wall as she giggled, wrapping a slender, bare leg around his own, arms looped haphazardly around his neck and over his shoulders.

"charles, your phone isn't in your front pocket, right?" she panted.

charles looked confused, resting his forehead against hers. "no, i always put it in my back pocket."

"fuck." y/n all but moaned, arousal pooling in her own thighs as she thought about what was in between charles'. "that means that it's your rock-hard cock that's pressing against me right now, and that's so fucking hot."

grinning to himself, charles pressed up against her even more. "whay don't you join me at my hotel, and i'll show you just how fucking hard you make me."

"is that a threat or an invitation?"

"it's whatever you want it to be, mon cher."

"kiss me one more time, and you've got a deal."

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #lovelytsunodas katy perry series #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #Spotify

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takes1 · 1 month

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p.2 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. PART THREE . PART FOUR. FINAL PART. masterlist for mha. my ao3. masterlist for haikyuu

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

taglist:

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roadkillremi · 8 months

Text

A better man

Negan X F!Reader

Era - S10/11

Summary: After being stuck in a cabin with Negan, things got hot and heavy. Is there regret or enjoyment?

Warnings : Minors DNI, Legal Age Gap (Negan is in his 50s, Reader is in their 30s) , mentions Reader's and her ex's having bad fights (mentions leaving a bruise), unprotected sex, language, p in V, the pet name Doll, mentions rubbing poison ivy on hickey, the whole smut is a flashback of "yesterday night".

A/N : My first Negan fic <3. Also a couple of side notes ; Reader calls Negan Carl's and Ricks killer, I know this isn't true. It is more of the way she viewed him during S7/8. There's no use of 'Y/N', Negan refers to the reader as "Doll". Italics are used for past quotes

There were no words once you went inside the house. Your brain scrabbled with the thought of him. Your backpack slid off your shoulders leaving a thud on the ground. It laid by the entrance next to some abandoned shoes.

"You're back!" Judith and RJ ran towards you giving you a hug. You smile kneeling down to their level.

"Sorry it took me so long..." You wrapped your arms around them. You heard a creak behind you, you turned around to find Michonne. She stood in the doorway looking down at you.

"I said To be as quick as possible." She muttered. Your chest wrenches with guilt, "We were surrounded.". Michonne nodded and stepped closer, she took a good look at you.

"What the hell is that?" She pointed at your neck. You quickly reached your hand to the spot she pointed.

"What?"

"That better not be what I think it is.." she walked away. Her kids followed behind her like little ducks. You quickly went into the bathroom moving your neck around.

There it was.

A cherry red spot on your neck, your heart rate quickened. You said no hickeys, you shut your eyes hoping you're imagining things. Flashes of last night just flood your vision.

His hands roamed your body, touching you so gently. It was a mistake, you didn't mean for things to build up. You were surrounded by dead sacks of shit. It grew colder and less safe for you two to head back. You two barricaded the windows and locked the doors. He placed his crowbar by the door and sat on the couch kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

After all these years I barely know shit about you, sweetheart.

That's what led the two of you to share stories. Stories you wouldn't dare share with anyone else. He knew about your shitty ex boyfriends, the shameful hook ups. The terrible fights you'd have with said shitty ex boyfriends that ended in bruises.

If they were still alive I'd beat the shit of them

In return, he told you all about Lucille and her death. Teary eyed he stared down at you waiting for a response. You weren't sure how to react, so you hugged him. You whispered sweet nothing's into his ear.

I bet she loved you so much.

Then you two kissed in a fit of passion. Your senses are overruled by the longing of a man's touch. Undressing each other as quickly as possible. He laid you down on the old couch, his lips exploring every curve. You patted his shoulder signalling for him to stop. He looked up at you his lips pink with saliva coating them.

Before we continue we need ground rules... Don't release your fucking seed in me. Don't leave marks. Got it?

Fuck yeah, doll.

Just like that he was on top of you, his forehead on yours. He looked into your eyes watching you whimper and moan. His smug smile didn't leave his face once, he chuckled to himself before speaking.

God, this pussy is so Fucking good! No man should teach you like shit..

You pulled him down by the nape of his neck. His lips smash into yours as his beard tickles your chin. He leaned down leaving kisses all around your neck. His teeth teasingly digging into your skin, him leaving the hickey...

He made sure you finished first, holding himself back until your release coated his cock. He pulled out of you before he could spill his seed. You reached in between the two of your bodies. Your hand pumped his shaft helping him chase his orgasm. He thrusted into your hand his head tilting back. You placed kisses on his collarbone and traveled down to his tattoo. His come falling onto your torso, he groaned.

Shit, Doll... Lemme clean you up.

He grabbed his t-shirt whipping your torso off. He tossed it back into the ground before laying on top of you. His head rested on your chest as one of his hands rubbed up and down your thigh.

You buried your face into your hands. You can't do this, Think about Rick, Glenn, Carl, Abraham. They saved you, you were their family, and you slept with their killer. You focused on your racing heart, he's a changed man. You had to get rid of the hickey before anyone else sees it.

You stormed out the house grabbing your ax on the way out. You head towards the gate, your heart echoing into your ears. Negan noticed you stomping towards the gate, he got up from the steps he was sitting at. He followed you with curiosity plan on his face.

"Where are you off to? We just got back." He grinned. You didn't look at him, "To find poison ivy.". He's taken back by your response, " 'cuse me?". You sigh moving any hair in the way to show your neck.

"You got sloppy last night. Will someone open this damn Gate?!" You fussed. A man rushed towards the gate opening it for you.

"Whoa whoa, doll. Slow down you're gonna rub poison ivy on yourself?!" He grabbed your shoulders getting Infront of you. He leaned down to your height, the greyness in his hair shining in your eyes.

"Yes.. I told you not to leave marks." You start walking out the gate pushing into his shoulder. He follows you back out the gate, "Back in my day girls used makeup." He tries to lighten up your mood. You sigh, "Negan.. I told you I can't.. no one can know.".

"What happened to you saying I was a better man?" He leaned on his leg a hint of hurt in his voice. You looked down, a bit ashamed of yourself.

"You are.." you whispered. He walked towards you, "I get it, I'm not a fan favorite out here. But Doll, talk to me.".

"You hurt my family. And me sleeping with you is... Like betraying them" you mumbled. He sighs, "I... I don't regret it. Hell, it was probably the best sex I've ever had... But.." you lose your voice. You look out into the overgrown neighborhood.

"I'll keep it a secret." He speaks up. You turned towards him with hope in your eyes.

"But, don't ignore me. I wanna see that pretty face of yours often." He gently grabs your chin lifting it up. You look into his hazel eyes feeling your heart flutter.

The same eyes that cherished the sight of your body. You leaned into his touch, "Alright. But help me find poison ivy-" you smiled.

"Yes ma'am." He grinned walking into the woods with you. His hand went to the small of your back as the ground became rougher. You smiled to yourself thinking of the night before, this time willingly.

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bandgie · 8 months

Text

During the Party

virgin!hueningkai x fem!reader

a/n: second part to this post

synopsis: Seeing you get hit on by Yeonjun during a frat party makes Kai do things he knows he'll regret. You take this opportunity to test to see how far Kai is willing to go to please you, at the expense of his dignity.

warnings: MDNI 18+, semi-public oral (f receiving),, Yeonjun is more involved, cum eating (sorry it's my speciality), jerkin off, forced!voyeurism, alcohol/weed mentions, reader is mean mean mean!, kai is just a wee lad, hair pulling, kai is referred to as a dog, idk that's it

3.9k words

Sucking Kai's cock became a way to pass time. In the library, the back of the abandoned buildings, the nearby park deep into the night. It really didn't matter where, your throat just craved to be stuffed with him. Kai was still hesitant, but after a few more times of cumming in your mouth, he let up his protests.

You couldn't do that forever though, and you were getting rather bored of your activities with him. It's how you ended up at the party Yeonjun's fraternity was hosting. The music was loud, the living room was packed with sweaty bodies, and your head was spinning from the smoke clogging the air.

Your eyes were scanning the sea of bodies for your next fuck. There were a few potential candidates, but you couldn't find the energy to talk to them. It would be much better if they were like Kai. Easy, but not in the sense that they've been around. More like they couldn't say no, that they couldn't manage to stand up for themselves.

Pathetic. You've gotten used to Kai's pathetic self that putting energy into sleeping with anyone else turned you off.

A sudden pair of slender fingers grabbed your waist, and you opened your mouth to tell them to fuck off before you saw the familiar face. Yeonjun had sunglasses on, his hair slicked back, and a simple black tank top that screamed I'm here to get fucked tonight. You've messed with Yeonjun more than once, and his easy going personality made it easier for you to sit back and let him do all the talking.

He’d do for now.

"Funny seeing you here," a lazy smile sits on his face. You turn to face him fully, matching his smirk. "Funny? Why’s that?" You fold your arms across your chest as you regard him. He lifts his shades to rest them on his forehead, "You've been gone a lot. Ignoring my calls, ghosting me. I think this is the first party you've turned up to in weeks. That's not like you."

As tempting as it is to roll your eyes, he's right. You have been absent from your usual tendencies. His observations irk you, "Why do you care? Not getting enough pussy?" Yeonjun is quick to notice your clipped tone, but he ignores it. "Me? Not getting enough pussy? I don't think that's possible. You should see the chicks that throw themselves at me. Not that I can blame them, I'd fuck me too."

Now you're done with the conversation. His cockiness is something you thought you've grown accustomed to, but 'hanging out' with Kai so much made you favor the opposite. You turn on your heel to escape Yeonjun, but he follows suit behind you. "Come ooonn I was joking! Well...kinda. Honestly my dick has been lonely. I heard some horndogs going at it in a bathroom a while ago and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind."

You stop walking abruptly and whirl to him. "In the bathroom? The one in the library?"

Yeonjun's eyes light up, "Yeah! You heard it too?" You smile and laugh, "Well yeah I heard it. I was the one in the stall." Yeonjun's eyebrows go up in surprise, and he chuckles in disbelief. "Bullshit. Who was the lucky guy?" Rather than answering, you lift your hands to trail your fingers over his broad shoulders. He tenses for a second, then relaxes as your hands travel down to his navel.

"How about I show you what I did huh? Wouldn't that be more fun?" Yeonjun smiles widely at your request and reciprocates your touches. He grabs two handfuls of your ass, pushing your body to be chest to chest with him. You can feel the heat that radiates off his body, the lust in eyes. This is what you need. Not some wimpy boy who eats his own cum on command. But a man who-

Another pair of hands yank you away from Yeonjun rather harshly. This person is bigger, thicker, but the way he's shaking is what catches your attention the most. Yeonjun reaches for you immediately, looking both confused and concerned.

"Holy shit Kai? Is that you?"

You freeze at Yeonjun's words. Then the body behind you begins to feel familiar, too familiar. You whip your head to see Kai's nervous expression. He doesn't even regard Yeonjun, instead locking eyes with you. There's no doubt in your mind that Kai is beyond terrified. Back in middle school, you and Yeonjun used to torment him. It wasn't until halfway through highschool that Yeonjun moved past bullying.

"God damn it is. You look good man! I didn't even know you were going here, haha." For the first time in your life, you're thankful for Yeonjun's obliviousness. Kai's eyes shift to his for a brief second, "You too." There's no maliciousness in his voice, not even fear like you thought. He sounds worried, nervous, upset.

Oh.

The grip on your waist, the eye contact Kai maintains, his pained expression. It doesn't take a scientist to figure out why he's here embarrassing himself. Kai's jealous. He's jealous that you're here to fuck another man, that you've started ignoring him a few days ago. Though his hands are shaking, he's content with not letting you go. He’s so desperate you can't help but find it cute.

It would be better to tell him to buzz off. You came here with the intention of putting no effort into your pleasure, but Kai's presence makes you ache for him. Like you miss him. It's a thought you shove far, far away into the depths of your mind. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to keep Kai for the night; he looks like he'd do anything to stay with you.

"Aw shit. Sorry Yeonjun. Me and Hyuka had something to do and I totally forgot. Bye." You don't stay to hear his complaints, instead grasping Kai's wrist and taking him to the other side of the house. Kai is silent as you both weave through the bodies of people. He doesn't say a peep when you open the door to the basement, closing it behind you two.

Yeonjun and his frat brothers had a man-cave that was off limits to everybody. But being Yeonjun's 'special' friend gave you some perks. You made your way down the stairs to plop yourself on the couch. Kai stood awkwardly beside you, unsure of where to place himself.

When he does decide to sit next to you, you shake your head. "Nope. Here." You snap your fingers and point to the floor between your legs. Kai hesitantly approaches, getting on his knees in front of you. He looks perfect, like he belongs down there.

You spread your legs open, hiking your dress above your waist to show yourself. Kai's eyes widen and he gulps, "I-this wasn't what I-"

"You embarrassed me tonight Hyuka. Do you know that?" His expression turns guilty, a frown on his face as he nods. "You got in the way of me having fun. Acting like you're some boyfriend to me. Don't you think you owe me for ruining my night?"

Kai glances at your clothed cunt then to your eyes. "I'm sorry," he speaks softly. His smooth voice makes you shiver with arousal. "Well," you look at him unimpressed. "Go ahead and show me how sorry you are." Kai's mouth opens to protest but you cut him off. "And don't give me that shit that you've never eaten pussy before. There has to be something you've learned from all that porn you watch."

He snaps his mouth shut and blushes. That's exactly what he was going to say, but it wasn't because he didn't want to. You've given Kai head countless times, and he's never had the opportunity to reciprocate. It wouldn't be unreasonable to say that he thinks about it, even dreams about it when he's away from you. There's nothing Kai wishes more than to taste your sweetness, he's just worried about his lack of experience.

Still, you're laying yourself on a platter so nicely for him. He can see the outline of your clit through your thin underwear. Carefully, he uses his finger to trail your crevices. Kai's digit lightly drags up and down your pussy. You can’t help but twitch, your hips slightly jumping from the ghostly sensation.

It's not necessarily confidence, but curiosity that makes him eager. Kai wants to know what makes you wet, what pulls the pretty moans from your throat, how your cream would taste on his tongue. He can feel the plushness of your lower lips. The wetness of your pussy sounds like music to his ears.

His teasing touches get you restless. There's a part of you that tells you to wait, that Kai might get overwhelmed from his first time seeing a cunt. But the need in your gut and the way your hips keep thrusting upwards to hump his hand wins out in the end.

You use one hand to pull your underwear to the side, shivering at the cold air. Kai's breath gets caught in his throat and his tongue pokes out to lick his lips. Your other hand reaches for your folds to spread them open. You softly hum at the intensity of Kai's stare, pulling at your pussy a little harsher.

"You like it Hyuka? You ever seen a pussy this close before?" You sound a little breathless, but Kai finds that insanely attractive. "Never...it's beautiful." The warmth of his breath on your cunt makes you whimper.

The compliment doesn't fail to give you little butterflies in your stomach. "Oh yeah? I think it tastes better than it looks." To prove your point, you use the hand that was stretching you open to collect your juices. Kai's eyes never leave your hand even as you place your fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them.

His Adam's apple bobs and his eyes twinkle like a kid seeing their favorite ice cream. You exaggeratedly moan as you taste yourself, "Your turn." Without waiting for Kai's response, you grip the back of his head and force him into your cunt.

There's no protesting or hesitation once his lips are on your aroused ones. He buries his face between your legs and his arms wrap around the underside on your thighs. Kai's a little too enthusiastic with his aggressive licks, but his little grunts make up for his lack of experience.

He's never tasted anything so good. Kai was thinking that it might taste like his own cum but he could not be more wrong. Your flavor is a natural musk that has him straining in his pants already. If this is how you tasted all the time, Kai thinks there couldn't be a day where he wouldn't eat you out.

His tongue flicks at your nub on occasion, but he seems to be focusing on your entrance instead. You keep a firm grip on the top of his head and guide him back up to your clitoris. "Here Hyuka. Don't make me tell you again." Kai nods at your order and centers at your sweet spot.

You don't bother looking away from Kai. It might be a little too intimate to keep eye contact while he laps at your cunt, but you love seeing him so pliant. It's a huge power trip you've accepted when giving him head. It didn't matter who was on their knees, you both knew who was in control.

Kai was a quick learner. He figures out you really like when his nose brushes against your bud while his tongue lapps deeper into you. Your hips start grinding on his face, and his heart swells with pride. It feels good knowing Kai could do this to you. Even if you were mean to him, he still felt like he owed you this pleasure.

There's no way Kai's face is still dry after dragging it up and down your pussy. He doesn’t seem to care about how dirty he gets, only that you chased the high you've been neglecting yourself from. You don't care about how loud you're being either. Not that it matters anyway, the hollering from upstairs is enough to cover up your sounds.

The first signs of your orgasm course through your body. Your legs tense around him and you throw your head back. "Ah~Hyuka, don't stop. Feels so good." Kai doubles down, knowing there’s no way he could get tired of your taste no matter how many times you came on his tongue.

Your cunt starts contracting around nothing, longing to be stuffed. You close your eyes and imagine how Kai's cock would fill you up so nicely. He might be pretty sloppy with his thrusts, but it would get the job done in making you cream around him. As much as you want him inside you, you know that you both would reach the point of no return if that happens.

Your obsession would turn into something you don't think you're ready for.

Instead, you'll have to settle for asking for his finger. He might struggle in the beginning, but he'll get the hang of it.

"Hyuka," you try and steady your voice. "Finger m-" You're cut short by footsteps descending the steps. Kai tries to rip himself from you, but you slam your thighs shut to keep him in place. He struggles for a second, but the feeling of your soft skin surrounding him pacifies him.

Familiar orange hair peeps from the stairs as Yeonjun makes his way down. He looks at you surprised for a moment, then his eyes travel to the hostage between your legs. Being the dramatic person he is, Yeonjun jumps at the sight. "What's going on here?"

Kai stiffens at Yeonjun's voice, and he looks at you pleadingly. As if saying get him out of here please. You turn your attention back to Yeonjun and shrug, "Nothin'. I'm kinda busy right now." Rather than taking the cue and leaving, he goes down the remaining stairs and slowly walks over to you. He lifts his sunglasses to rest on his head, "Doesn't look like nothing. Who ya suffocating down there?"

Once something grabs Yeonjun's interest, it's practically impossible to get rid of him. There's nothing you can do other than watch Yeonjun plop himself on the couch beside you. He shows no shame in staring at Huening Kai between your legs. Yeonjun lets out a little chuckle, "So is this what you and Kai had to do?"

You nod, pushing the hair from Kai's face. His eyes have welled up with tears and his cheeks a bright pink. From oxygen deprivation or embarrassment, you aren't sure.

Yeonjun's eyes never leave Kai's face, darting from your pussy and his wet face. "Well don't let me stop you, carry on," it's only amusement in Yeonjun's voice.

You can feel your heart drumming in your chest, and the little trembles in Kai's hands. You've never tried to explore having sex in front of someone, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't intrigue you. The thought of Yeonjun's eyes and Kai's mouth on you is exhilarating, and you can feel your cunt throb in excitement.

"You heard the man Hyuka. Go ahead." You spread your legs and allow Kai to take in a deep breath. He takes a few gulps of air before he shakes his head. "I can't." He speaks so softly, as if he would break if he said it any louder.

One of your eyebrows raise from his refusal. It's been a while since Kai has denied you, and you don't really have the time to play into it right now. You were torn from your orgasm minutes ago, your high was still nestling in your stomach waiting to be released.

"You can't?" You question. "What do you mean you can't?"

Kai doesn't answer you, insistent on shaking his head as his response. You groan and roll your eyes, I don't have time for this bullshit.

"Yeonjun," you call to the man beside you. "You'll eat my pussy won't you?" Before Yeonjun has the opportunity to respond, Kai immediately begins to protest. "Wait! I can do it. I can, I'm sorry." His eyes lock with yours, pleading. His quick obedience makes you shiver, and you involuntarily open your legs a little wider.

"You keep saying you're sorry, but I dunno if you mean it," you tsk. "We have a guest Hyuka, it's rude to keep him waiting."

"I am sorry! I didn't mean it." His words are mumbled as Kai places his lips back on your core. You hum at the warmth of his mouth, lifting your hips up to chase the heat.

Kai isn't as aggressive, most likely nervous from having a one-man audience. But his slower licks make that heat in your belly begin to gently rise once again. His tongue travels into your hole to collect your wetness and bring it back up to your clit. You moan at the flick of his tongue against your nub.

Yeonjun lifts your dress higher and spills your tits from your bra. Your hazy eyes look into his and he licks his lips hungrily. The tension in his jeans gets the better of him, and he unbuckles his belt to relieve himself.

The jingling sound makes Kai peek over at Yeonjun, and there's a slight panic in his eyes. You notice this quickly, and cradle his face in your palm. Kai's gaze turns to yours, and you can see the ease quickly return back. The obvious effect you have on him makes your chest tighten, and you pray it's just because you're turned on.

Yeonjun grips himself and starts pumping his cock. Curses and groans leave his lips as he pleasures himself. The sight of Kai burying his face deep into you leaves Yeonjun yearning to not only spectate, but somehow get a taste of you too.

With one hand steady on Kai, you use your other to play with your exposed breasts. You tug and twist your nipples, jolting in Kai's mouth. Though it's getting difficult to keep your pussy in his hold, Kai finds his confidence to harshly suck on your cunt.

You cry out and try to escape his hot tongue, but his grip on you is firm. The stimulation is borderline painful, but the way you're flooding in his mouth is anything but.

"Oh fuck" Yeonjun's voice startles you for a second, forgetting his presence. His cock is completely hard, his tip swollen red. "That's a good little fuck toy you got there. Listens to every word you say. A good boy huh?"

A lazy smile finds your face as you nod. "Yeah, he is a good~oh shit... good boy. The best boy...isn't that right Hyuka?"

Your praise makes Kai's heart swell, and he happily nods and moans at your words. The movement of his head makes his nose brush against your clit, and you flinch.

Chillsbegin to spread throughout your body. Your moans are getting more frequent, the thrusting in your hips more erratic. Kai's head has begun to hurt from how hard you're gripping his hair, but he's still determined to make you finish.

"Don't stop. Hyuka I'm gonna cum–," you whine.

Stopping was the last thing Kai wanted to do, and he started wondering why he even hesitated when Yeonjun walked in. He was nervous at first, feeling like he couldn't compare to someone who has obviously slept around a lot more. But seeing your reaction and Yeonjun’s enjoyment builds up his self-assurance.

"Shit, I'mma cum too," Yeonjun's slick hands play with his tip. You bite your lower lip and harshly grab the back of Kai's head.

"Stick your tongue out." Kai obeys you immediately, letting you ride his face like a dildo as you reach the beginnings of your orgasm. Your hips stutter and your moans are choked when you cum. You squeeze your tit as your body tightens. Yeonjun's nearby moans coax your orgasm longer, making your legs tremble.

Kai's face is completely soiled in your juices, making it easier for your pussy to grind on his face. His head follows your movements easily, not wanting to miss a second of tasting your cum.

His imagination is nothing compared to what you taste like.

He keeps licking you even when your hips have collapsed back on the couch. Kai shows no signs of stopping even as your moans turn into gasps.

Yeonjun doesn't think he can take much longer, and he stands so his cock hovers over your pussy and Kai's head. The change in movement makes you focus your attention on the very close Yeonjun, and you yank Kai's head back.

A loud smack sound echos in the room when Kai is pulled away from your sensitive cunt. He looks at you as if he's going to complain, but the loud groaning of Yeonjun makes him shut up.

"Go ahead and come on me Yeonjun. Right here." The hand that was playing with your boobs comes down to spread your lower lips open. You avoid your nub while you rub yourself, still too delicate to be touched.

"On my favorite pussy." It's the last coherent sentence Yeonjun says when he cums. His hot spurts land on your lower stomach, your pussy, and the inner parts of your thighs. His thighs shake and he throws his head back as he continues pumping himself. You smear his arousal over your pelvis, bringing a finger to your tongue for a taste.

You moaned around your digit, "Mmm, so much for me."

Kai does nothing but watch as another man defiles you. The jealousy is strong in his body, he can feel the heaviness in his chest. Still, you keep your eyes on Kai. He can see the mischievousness and teasing behind them, and for some reason he feels like you enjoy his envy.

Once Yeonjun comes down from his high, he finally notices the mess on your cunt. "Hold on, lemme get you a towel."

"That won't be necessary. You know what to do Hyuka." There's no resistance in his eyes when Kai sticks his tongue out to clean you up. You can practically feel Yeonjun's jaw drop, disbelief in his features.

"No shit."

Kai's hot tongue promptly licks you up, collecting Yeonjun's cum. You can see Kai scrunch his nose up at the taste, making you giggle. His mouth travels to your stomach, your thighs, and your pussy as he wipes any trace of arousal from you.

"I've trained him well huh? Little puppy just for me," you hum when Kai rolls your bud gently over his tongue.

"This is my favorite part," you say giddily once Kai has collected all the cum in his mouth.

Kai opens his mouth to reveal the white release he's gathered. His eyes sting from the unfamiliar saltiness, but he keeps his tongue out to show you and Yeonjun his hard work. You purr at the sight, sitting up to grab a hold on Kai's face.

You squeeze his cheeks together and force his head to face Yeonjun who's gaping at the sight.

"Swallow."

Unable to keep his eyes open, Kai swallows thickly. You can hear Yeonjun groan at the sight, his soft dick twitching.

You give a few gentle slaps to Kai's face and peck his cheek. "That's my good boy~"

a/n: here's the 2nd part to the huening kai series! I hope ya'll like it! no idea what I'd do for the 3rd part, lmao proofreader/editor: @then-make-me (thank you!!)

update: third part here

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