#dude I heard this song on the way to work and I was like

[ctommyisnt]

ERVEYONE has probably already read this fic before BUT you need to listen to fight or flight by Conan gray while or after reading this. In fact listen to it before and during and then after to make sure it really hits. Okay. Okay great thank you.

[keeps-ache]

outside once again for designated outside time

[averbaldumpingground]

Life almost disappears, those summer afternoons spent reading in the park, your head half-leaning on his shoulder. Those mornings in the spring, a little late for work.

It didn't matter then, the way he took two sugars in his coffee. The way you let your hair grow out too long.

But these, the memories we keep, crammed in a shoebox full of polaroids, saved somewhere on a half-forgotten hard drive, they're what remains behind. They're what your sister finds, the weekend that she helps you pack your life.

And then it's sitting on the couch, your kitchen stuff already wrapped in paper. It's styrofoam containers, soda cans. It's wine that she's already drinking from the bottle.

And you can't figure out whose silhouette that was, who showed up to your party with a boa. And she is pretty sure her ex has kids.

But maybe that's why you and I keep postcards. Somebody's bow tie, paperclips, that bit of string.

They don't remind us of some other time, exactly. They're pieces of the people that we were, they're feelings that we'd wanted to hold on to.

[seaglassdinosaur]

Ron said there was a sixty second window of suggestibility, yes?

That’s the exact amount of time it takes for Reagan to read the script and give her heartfelt emotional speech about how much she loves him.

Who’s to say that second part doesn’t stick with him same as the Martin Higgins identity?

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

He’s staring at him.

Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.

The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.

“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.

“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”

“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”

Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”

“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”

Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.

Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”

Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”

Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”

Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.

“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”

Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”

He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”

“To- to prove you’re from the future?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”

He blinks. “What?”

Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”

Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”

Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”

“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.

A ring Eddie already has on his finger.

“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.

His hands start shaking.

“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”

“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.

“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.

AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”

Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”

You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”

You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”

He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.

So fucking beautiful.

“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”

Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"

It's all I want. You think.

"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."

That's all I want. He thinks.

Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"

He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.

and it'll crush him.

The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."

"So?" He asks.

"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."

It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’

The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.

So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.

Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.

"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.

Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.

You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."

“Stop that.” He seethed.

It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.

Never with you.

Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.

"What--"

He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”

“Eddie…”

“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”

You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.

It’s overwhelming.

You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?

His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.

Fuck it.

“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.

You exhale his name, “Eddie,”

“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?

Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”

He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”

Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.

“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”

With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”

Warm warm warm.

It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.

Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.

There’s no one but you.

You’re everything.

I love you, please, let me love you.

Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.

“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.

Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”

“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”

He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”

Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"

He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.

"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."

You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.

"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.

Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"

A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.

You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."

You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"

You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."

Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."

"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."

He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.

"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."

"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.

You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.

"God, yes."

He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.

"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."

Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"

He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.

Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.

"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”

The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.

“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.

He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”

You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”

Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.

“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.

The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.

Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.

Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”

You’re both breathing heavy.

Now it’s his turn.

Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.

When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.

God damn...he's fucking huge.

"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"

Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.

"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."

"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.

You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.

"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.

His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"

You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.

"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.

Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.

Such a good girl.

Taking me so well.

My pretty girl.

Mine.

Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.

"Eddie, fuck, I--"

"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."

His words are like a spell.

You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.

"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"

You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."

"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.

He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.

"Hi." He says quietly.

You giggle softly, "Hi."

"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."

You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"

"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.

Nothing.

You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."

Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"

You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."

He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.

Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."

Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."

[wakeup01]

Playing It Straight

“Roomieee. I need your help with something.” I hear the telltale high pitched cry from my twinky roommate Yuan’s bedroom. The last thing I need right now is his whiny ass distracting me.

“What it is? I have a date with this hot chick in half an hour. You better have clothes on this time dude.” My hand pushes the door to his room ajar and I see him laying down on the bed facing away from me. There was some upbeat trashy pop song playing on his sound system. Yuan begins to gyrate to the beat. “Don’t dance. No dancing.” I order bluntly, turning off his music.

There was being gay and then there was Yuan, who seemed to make it his whole identity. It was bad enough his room was colour coded in pastel purples to match his dusty lavender hair. But he had now painted the whole door too.

“It’s my big butt, I think there’s something wrong with it.” He announces with fake concern, rolling his hips on the bed sheet - revealing more of his smooth slim body than I ever dared wish to see. I make a internal note to ‘mace own eyes later’.

Yuan was not as innocent as he liked to make out and had on numerous occasions attempted to trick me into indulging in his fantasies. Gifting me a bright crop top and calling it a ‘fashionable tank top’ - it certainly turned heads at the gym the one day I wore it, or inviting me to a progressive club with the promise of scoring ‘lots of ass’. And the less said about ‘locktober’ the better, that was NOT a halloween costume. Only last week he had convinced me to listen to some gay as fuck audio tapes while I slept; obviously that crap didn’t work on a man like me. His justification always being ‘you’ll like it, I swear’. This one was a bit on the nose, even for him.

“Dude we talked about this, I’m flattered, really. I get it, I’m a gay bottoms wet dream. I can’t blame you for eying my superior meat.” I puff out my well built chest, barely contained in my tank top. “But fuck, it ain’t gonna happen.” I attempt to not make eye contact with him as he looks over his shoulder at me.

“No, like seriously. Something feels wrong, can you pleeease juth take a looksee. Pretty please.” He pulls down his shorts and moons me as I shield my eyes. It’s like the sun, you’re safe if you don’t look directly at it, right? Internal note: ‘buy more mace’.

“Serious like when you said we were in a ‘mandatory hand holding zone?” I hear muffled giggling coming from his pillow. “Bro it’s probably from all the things you shove up it.” I shudder, trying not to picture THAT in my head. “I’ll look but only if you promise me that you’ll drop that ‘I know you’re secretly gay bullshit.’ My friends at the gym heard that crap last time.”

“Hehe. Ooo thuch a manly jock. Geez, I pwromise. Meathead.” Yuan winks at me and I hated him for it. Hated the weird way it made me feel in my chest.

I sigh loudly for effect and bend down until the cleft of his…cheek is at eye level. I felt so self conscious, how on earth did he talk me into this? I look at my chiseled body just to remind myself, yes I am a man. A masculine man. God, here we go. My eyes briefly glance across his—ew—his raised butt before I quickly look away.

“Bruh I don’t see a thing. It’s a mans butt. Congratulations.” What the hell am I even looking for? I’m sat on the floor checking out a dude’s…posterior. And for what?

“Come on, look clother.” Yuan insists with a slight lisp, curving his back and pushing his rear higher.” Again, I look at my thick biceps, yes, still a man.

His hands pull at his buttocks and slowly part them, revealing his tight hole to me. Woah. One glimpse was all it took. I should have recoiled but instead I was fascinated. I’d never seen a man’s hole before, it was different…

I hear him say something to me but whatever it was, it didn’t seem too important. I couldn’t stop staring, it was like looking into a black hole, and the more I looked the more enraptured I became. It was distorting my worldview, it made me feel like I had been missing out on something all these years.

“Helloooo! See anything?”

“Uuhhh. Maybe.” I mumble, my head getting closer to his rear.

I pull away his hands and replace them with my own, laying my fingers across his round cheeks and spreading them wider. Wow, it was…dare I say, enticing? The rest of the room faded from my mind as my eyes fall deeper into his needy, winking hole. I lean in and my nose makes contact with his crack. I can’t help myself, I inhale and suck up his scent, it acts like an immediate aphrodisiac. My cock wakes up, poking against the edge of the bed.

“You have been lithening to your programming for me then. Good Meathead. Remember when you were the stuck-up clever one, going to college? That was thuch a bore.”

“Say what bro?” College? Did I…? Nah. That smart shit wasn’t for me bro, my head was like beef central. I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about but I was happy to be a good fucking meathead. Something in my mind told me I was supposed to be. It made me even more pumped about the gym session tomorrow, I gotta bulk up my pecs.

“Make sure to take lots of selfies tomorrow ‘bro’, I need to see your gains.” I continue to breathe in the sweet aroma emanating from his behind. What was I doing again? “So, anything there dummy? How about now?” giggle “Isn’t it likth so big.”

He wiggles his hips and pushes back into my face, my lips making contact with his boy pussy. My eyes go wide. Fuck, this was soo gay. I should be revolted, why am I still down here? I could get up and walk away whenever…whenever I wanted to. Suddenly my mouth felt parched, like I had spent a week in the desert. It became clear where this was going. I’m not sure if I could even stop myself at this point, one tiny thing could tip me over the edge and disintegrate my own self image. It was as If I was having an out of body experience, seeing myself pressed against him. I wouldn’t, I was stronger than this. I was straight. Straight as an arrow… straight as a…

“Eat up jock.”

F—fuck. My lips open and my tongue presses up against his rear, dragging up and down between his cheeks and then swirling around his inviting hole. It was like a dam breaking, once I started I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. He tasted too good. Ready for the main course, my tongue dives deep into him and begins to eat him out in earnest, my mouth sucking at his entrance like I’m slurping on a ice cream filling.

While giving him a very manly rimjob I think of a solution to our problem. I finish up indulging in his sweet cake and pull my face out, slapping his jiggly butt cheeks.

“So what’s the issue?” He asks impatiently.

“It’s empty for one. Huhuhu. But I can fix that bro.” I say confidently, rushing to remove my underwear so I can finally nut inside him.

I push his skinny back down against the bed and line up my monster cock with his lubricated hole. Yuan moans into his pillow like he should. I slide into him with ease and flex my arms, feeling proud at ‘conquering’ my roommates hole.

“Good Meathead.” He praises between loud panting. “Mmm. But I thought you were straight.”

“I am. Unff. Just helping a bro out. No homo. Though I do need to see if there’s anything wrong with your throat after I plant my seed in your hole.”

______________________________

The next day.

“Man that was a fucking lit workout.” I exclaim, marvelling at my bulging muscles. I tense my arms and see my veins pop, sweat dripping to the floor. “Though you losers sure focused a lot on your glutes today. Hey—aren’t you ‘queens’ gonna shower?” I turn as my gym bros stop behind me in the locker room.

“Well… we spoke to your roommate about your progress yesterday.” Xavier states, removing his damp muscle tee - his dark shiny skin reflecting the harsh lights from overhead.

Yesterday…for some reason my memories from the day before were a blur. For the life of me I can’t remember what happened. There was some strange taste lingering in my mouth that had been making my dick hard all day. My roommate was certainly in a suspiciously good mood this morning too and made some strange comments about me ‘being hungry for more’.

“About what bro? That Yuan can kiss my ass. Huhuh. Come on, stop checking out each others dicks and let’s go!”

“Uh see, he thinks you’re now ready to be our…” I’d never seen him so unsure of himself before, I roll my eyes at him and slam my locker closed.

“Y’all acting like a bunch of girls.” I swear if Yuan is back to spewing his gay bullshit again…

“Go on. Say it.” One of the others insists, nudging Xavier’s shoulder.

Xavier hesitates and then looks away from me, his cheeks flushing red. “There’s uh, there’s something wrong with my…butt…so could you?” The others fail to stifle a laugh.

I do a double take as Xavier turns and points his toned ass at me, his jockstrap framing it like a wrapped gift. “What the fuck? Bruh what are you doing? Put that shit away.”

“Be a good Meathead.”

I see a flash of my roommates butt cross my minds eye. Uhhh. My cock throbs at the image. Before I know it my legs are kneeling behind my friend, what am I doing? My body certainly seems to be one step ahead, my hands grab at his muscled legs for support. “What the actual fuck. Guys…” I’ve never felt so embarrassed, how am I ever gonna live this down?

A hand pulls on the strap hugging Xaviers left buttock and lets go, letting it snap back into place, a slight jiggle vibrates over his firm rear. Was it my hand? I couldn’t even tell.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe those tapes actually worked. He’s come a long way since he was that scrawny nerd, thinking he was above everyone. Now he’s dumber than all of us. We just need Yuan to join us next. Damn someone make sure to record this” It was hard to take in what they were saying, my mind was fixated…elsewhere. One of them leans down to my side and points their phone camera at my zoned out face. “Dude, we stink…I’m next after you.” Someone pats my back as another hand holds my shoulder in place. “Nothing more manly than licking the salty sweat off a bro’s butt.”

No….

Xavier bends forward, his pert dark cheeks pulling apart - sweat glistening on their surface. And then I see it. What my body craved. His hole. Everything falls into place, my mouth watering at the sight, my eyes entranced. I could no longer deny what I wanted, deny the inevitability of what I was about to do. The depravity would be immortalised on camera too, my dumb face shoved in a mans ass. Oh fuck.

The perfect black void nestled between his tight buttocks seems to suck away my shame as I lick my lips. “So manly.” I repeat to the crowd that had gathered around me. Mmm. Rimming a man’s ass was almost as good as fucking it. I wanted a taste of all the guys, their shiny sweaty bodies, their musk. It was my place in the group, I was their meathead after all. My cock was already throbbing at the thought. Maybe Yuan was onto something with this whole ‘gay’ thing. Yeah, let’s try going full homo. Huhuhuh. Anything for the bros, bro.

Looking down at me confidently, Xavier grips the back of my head.

“Clean my hole bruh.”

_____________________________

A few days later I check in on Yuan to see his progress after a few nights obliviously listening to his ‘jocking’ tapes. Dude, I’m going to enjoy watching him slowly bulk up and dumb down. He’s sat up in bed casually tugging at his cock, mouth agape. The heavy thumping bass of trap music is blaring from his speakers. His room is a complete mess.

“How’s it hanging lil bro?”

“Just…mm—wanking.”

“Can see, Meathead. Hung and dumb, nice. I think you’re about ready to join us at the gym.”

“Hmm. Roomie, I—I need your help with something. It’s my big dick…”

“Huhuhu, there’s something wrong with it, let me be a bro and give you a hand with that stick.” I climb over him and wrap my lips around his cock.

“Thuck…ahem. Fuck yeah brooo!”

[inurnctdreams]

dress - m.l

idol!mark x idol fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship, one shot, song fic (maybe?? i wouldn’t class it as one but there are references to lyrics and the song inspired the fic so??)

warnings: swearing, very suggestive (grinding, making out, over the clothes stuff but no explicit sex), alcohol, mentions of being tipsy/drunk (mark and reader have been drinking but everything is consensual), pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, mine/yours, dude (affectionate)), mdni

wc: 3.1k

notes: this entire thing stemmed from this gifset that gave me mark brainrot and made me think of the song dress by taylor swift

you’re pretty sure you’re supposed to be paying attention to the conversation happening in front of you right now. one of the executives for mbc… or was it kbs? whoever it was, they were important in the industry and they were talking at you and your group mates about your latest comeback stage… or maybe next year’s end of year concert that was already in the planning stages? you’d kind of stopped listening about five minutes ago. and it wasn’t your fault, really. you took your career seriously and wouldn’t dream of disrespecting anyone who was showing interest in your group by ignoring them usually, but you’d heard zhong chenle’s signature dolphin laugh across the room and that had been it. he’s here.

it would obviously be absolutely, outrageously scandalous for you to take off mid conversation, make a beeline for the group that had walked in and greet him like you want to. you have some modicum of self control and societal responsibility. and it isn’t a surprise, you knew he’d be here, you’d even gotten updates via text with a rough estimate of when he’d walk in. but you haven’t seen him in person in over three weeks and you’ve been looking forward to this night since the last time he’d kissed you goodbye at your door before sneaking back out of your dorm building to his car. 3am on a tuesday morning had turned out to be the only time the both of you were in the same city and without obligations in months. comebacks, tours, interviews. both of your lives were so hectic, it was difficult enough to get a moment to yourself to breathe, let alone together. now he’s here, in the same room as you, and you can’t do anything about it. the anticipation is killing you.

it hadn’t stopped you from pausing mid sentence when you’d registered his presence, though. disguising it with a cough and a modest apology, you’d finished your words and promptly stopped contributing to the conversation. smiling politely with your best poker face on as you tuned out of whatever was being discussed further and listened out across the room for any sign of him. chenle’s laugh is infectious, so donghyuck’s high pitched giggles soon joined in, audible above the rumble of laughter that had erupted from that corner of the room. but that was it. once the joke had worn off, the usual sounds of casual conversation replaced it, no doubt one of the older members’ doing as they reminded them of their surroundings. the first hour or so of award show after parties tend to be just the thing you’re ignoring: prominent figures in the industry congratulating and backhandedly complimenting idols whilst trying to promote something or take advantage of rookies with less media training by getting them to reveal secrets or agree to things.

once they’ve either gotten what they wanted or given up trying, they make their way out and the real party starts. realising you’re going to get nothing from the indiscernible voices in their direction, you start to work out how long you’ve been here, and how long you have to wait before it won’t be suspicious of you to drag your group over there to greet them. unfortunately, you’re interrupted midway through your mental calculations by something digging into your side. it’s gone before you even register the touch, light and inconspicuous. you glance down momentarily before meeting the eyes of your group mate, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“sorry, i didn’t quite catch that last bit.” your years of experience in the spotlight and exceptional training kick in immediately. you turn back to the middle-aged man in front of you with a practised innocent smile. “what were you saying?”

you smile graciously at the waitress as she hands you a flute of expensive champagne off of the shiny silver tray in her hand. taking a small sip, you school your face into a neutral expression to hide the wince at the acidic taste. you’ve never been much of a fan of the stuff, but it’s always handed out at events so you’ve gotten somewhat used to it in the years you’ve been legally allowed to drink at them. this is your second glass, and yet again you find yourself longing for the boring portion of the night to be over so the alcohol can start flowing more freely. you meet the eyes of your group mate and share a look, she hates champagne too. giggling to yourselves, you almost don’t notice the group of twenty-something boys heading in your direction, led by taeyong.

you’re immediately at full attention, straightening up from the pillar you’d been leaning against and placing your half full champagne flute on the nearest surface as you grin at your friends approaching. it’s almost comical, how the amount of people surrounding you in that moment feels like you’re looking for him in a crowd rather than just among his own group members. but then yuta moves to say hi to your group mate and there he is. god, he looks heavenly. the all black ensemble complimented by silver jewellery, his artfully tousled hair, the hint of gloss that have his lips looking so shiny and kissable it’s taking all of your entire being not to ravish him right here and now in the middle of this crowded room. not that he needs any of it to start up the roaring of butterflies in your stomach or trigger the giddy high you’re feeling. no, mark lee makes you feel like this every time he looks at you. barefaced, old t-shirt and glasses on with a hint of stubble starting to grow in as you sit next to him in the studio. bleary eyed, half asleep and hair sticking up as your phone alarm goes off on his bedside table. hoodie, snapback and face mask hiding most of his face as he slips into your practise room and catches your gaze in the mirror.

“y/n.” and everything just stops. the rest of the room falls away, the roar of conversation as your groups say hi is silenced, all you can see, hear, feel is him. the way he looks you up and down appreciatively that still makes your heart flutter despite it happening every time he sees you. he just has this way of making you feel like you’re the only one his attention would ever be captured by.

“hi, mark.” there’s a smile on your face, and you’re trying to make it your usual polite idol, public appearance smile, but really you have no control and you can feel the corners of your mouth turning up further against your will. you think that if you looked, his would be similar, probably that mischievous half-smirk he does that makes his dimple appear. and you love his dimple, but you’re currently captivated by the lovestruck look in his eyes. in that moment, you’re thankful you’d put your glass down because you would’ve dropped it. your hands shake as you force yourself to hold back from him. your groups are publicly very good friends, having known each other as trainees and debuting within a year of each other. you and mark have been best friends for years, and that’s all it was until the mutual pining hit its peak. there was something so beautiful about being in love with your best friend, with someone who understood how demanding your career was and already knew everything about you and who was still your best friend alongside being your boyfriend. around you, the rest of nct are giving your group mates half-hugs or shoulder nudges, but you don’t move to touch him, knowing you won’t let go if you initiate physical contact.

“y/n!” johnny rips you from your bubble. you have no idea how long you and mark were stood there, staring into each other’s eyes with that look on your faces, but it must’ve been long enough if someone’s intervened. the older idol pulls you into a short hug, but not before leaning down to murmur in your ear. “we know you guys are like, sickeningly in love, but would it kill you to not make it super obvious while there’s still cameras everywhere?”

oops.

“mark!” you whisper. or at least you hope you do, you’re pretty tipsy by this point in the evening. he just laughs, equally inebriated, and continues pulling you down the empty corridor, fingers intertwined. on a scale of zero to having your relationship exposed by dispatch come morning, sneaking off together a mere forty minutes after the industry execs had left the party is probably a solid deniable accusation. not exactly a great idea, but if anyone found out it wouldn’t be the end of the world, just carefully curated excuses in a statement and an earful from management. the first couple of doors he tries are locked, but third time seems to be the charm as you’re pulled into a room and plunged into darkness when the door clicks shut behind you.

“c’mere baby.” and you let go. all the pressure from being around so many people that could ruin your careers with one article, all the stolen glances across the room, all the secret smiles you share, all the patience that had been slowly wearing thin the longer you were in his proximity but not being able to do anything about it. it’s been been building all evening, and the dam finally breaks.

you practically throw yourself into his arms, winding your own around his neck as his wrap around your middle. he holds you to him so tight it hurts a little, but you’re probably slightly choking him with how strong your own grip is. the initial ‘holy shit you’re here and i can touch you without everyone looking’ moment passes and you both relax slightly. he still holds you close but it’s more grounding and comforting than anything. you bury your face into his neck and just let yourself breathe him in. his scent, the underlying notes of mark and home underneath the fancy cologne. the steady, comforting beat of his pulse against you. his arms are your safe place and being held by him makes everything better, even if just a little. you can’t count the number of times you’ve been exhausted or stressed or upset or scared or angry and all he’s had to do is pull you into him. you’ve cried on him, ranted into his chest and listened to him murmur words of encouragement and reassurance and love into your ear. there’s no other place you’d ever want to be. and even when you couldn’t physically be with him, he’s been there on facetime, or phone call, or over text. you’ve done the same for him without hesitation more times than you can imagine. he’s your person, your best friend, your soulmate, your everything, your one and only, your lifeline. you feel him press firm kisses into your hair and smile against his throat, snuggling into him happily.

“missed you.” you mumble. the alcohol in your system is amplifying the giddy feeling that’s thrumming through your entire being. all semblance of public image and self-control come crumbling down in front of him like always until all that’s left is the unguarded, most raw versions of yourselves laid bare for each other. he squeezes your hips and pulls back a little to look you in the eyes. you’ve adjusted to the darkness enough to make out his facial features and that same unfiltered, pure love is staring back at you from earlier but now he’s unabashedly grinning at you and his cheeks are flushed with happiness (and alcohol). his dimple is out in full force as he giggles right back at you. this is your mark, the one reserved for you and you only.

“fuck, you’re so perfect.” he whispers. “wish we could stay in here forever, just us.”

“i know.” you bite your lip, and his eyes zero in on your mouth. “wait, where even are we?”

“i don’t care.” and just as quickly as the wholesome, lovesick feeling had flooded you, the arousal and want flares up, threatening to consume you the second he grabs your face and claims your lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. he walks you both backwards until you’re pressed up against the door, gripping the sides of his jacket both for stability and to satiate the overwhelming need to get your hands on him. you whine against his lips as one of his hands slips into your hair and pulls gently, letting your hands roam under his jacket all over his waist and up his chest until they’re holding his shoulders. you use the leverage to push yourself up onto your tiptoes to match his heated, open-mouth kisses with the same carnal energy. he groans, the sound making you shiver and adding to the warmth pooling in your abdomen. the hand that’s not in your hair drops down to slide around you and grab your hip, pulling you even closer so you’re flush against his body. the need for oxygen is beginning to grow, but you’re addicted to the floaty, lightheaded feeling that comes along with it. it soon becomes too much, though, the both of you breathing heavily as you break away for air, but he wastes no time in leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw and neck, each one hotter and more filthy than the last.

“mark.” you whimper, turning your head to the side to grant him more access to your throat. he nips at your pulse point softly, careful not to leave a visible mark, but it makes you gasp and arch into him further all the same.

“my pretty girl.” he pants against your skin. “all mine.”

“mm-hmm.” you agree. “yours.” and you are, fully and irrevocably his in every sense of the word. you thread your own hands into his hair and pull his face back up to kiss him again. you could spend forever kissing him and never be satisfied, never get bored. it doesn’t matter than you know him better than you know yourself, or that you’ve spent hours in this exact same position with him already. there seems to be this endless need inside you for mark lee that started when you met him. you were kids back then, but you always craved his presence, his attention. over the years it’s developed, but the need for him has never wavered, even after he became yours.

“been thinking about this all night, you look incredible.” he confesses between kisses, both hands dropping from around you to wander under your dress and start caressing your thighs. his touch is electrifying, leaving trails of fire in his wake as he slides his hands up to grab your ass and squeeze it. the subsequent jolt of excitement has you whimpering against him and his grip moves to the crease where your ass and thighs meet. he kneads the soft flesh there sensually before squeezing again, and that’s all the warning you get before he lifts you up and presses you back against the door in one fluid motion without even breaking the kiss. you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, ankles crossing against his back. not that you think he’ll drop you, it’s never happened before, you just use the leverage to pull him in until you’re happily trapped between the cold, hard surface of the door and your boyfriend’s warm, inviting body. you both groan as his hips roll into yours. whether it was a result of you pulling him in or an intentional movement on his part is unknown, but the way he bites your lip and grinds his crotch into yours again is definitely not an accident. with you now supporting yourself, he’s free to bring one hand up to your chest, groping at your tits through your dress. his hips haven’t stopped moving, and you can feel the way he’s quickly hardening against your underwear. whilst the sensation is incredible, it snaps you out of the trance you’ve been in.

“babe.” you moan. “mark, baby, we can’t.”

“you mean we shouldn’t.” he smirks.

“no, i mean someone is going to notice we’re gone soon, if they haven’t already, and come looking for us.” you counter. he stops moving and looks up at you, the fog of arousal starting to clear from his expression. he sighs exasperatedly, knowing you’re right.

“fine.” he lowers you back to your feet. you know you both probably no longer resemble the perfect idol look your stylists and hair and makeup artists crafted before you decided to sneak off for a tipsy make out session in one of the back rooms, so you feel around for a light switch. your eyes squeeze shut as the room is flooded with light, blinking a couple times to readjust your vision. a giggle escapes you as you take in how adorably disheveled mark looks, hair tousled, collar rumpled and the pink hue of your lipstick smudged around his lips. although, you’re sure you look pretty similar.

you spend a couple minutes making yourselves look presentable again before you rejoin the party. “i should probably go first, give you a couple of extra minutes to calm down.” you tease, eyeing the tent in his pants.

“i bet if i checked, you’d still be soaking wet for me.” he retorts, eyes darkening slightly, sending a flush of heat straight to your core. he’s not lying. you take a deep breath to compose yourself before opening the door and stepping out into the corridor. you turn back to your boyfriend.

“behave.”

“the rest of this party’s gonna be torture, having to watch you go around looking like that.” he looks you up and down appreciatively again, though this time it’s a lot less innocent. you’re so glad that your schedules have calmed down enough to allow you more time together for the next month or so, the last couple months without being able to see him properly have been rough.

“well you can show me how much you like it when we get back to yours, later.”

“i plan to.”

“good. ‘cause i only bought this dress so you could take it off.” you smirk as the door shuts behind you.

“not helping, dude!” his voice is muffled as you begin walking back towards the party, giggling to yourself as you go. “i hate you!”

“no you don’t!”

[whosjunglejim4322]

Reconcile- E.M (S)

Smut!, fluff because uhm how could I not, angst! cause you guys are pent up from stress and this is basically a make up sex fic teehee, mentions of weed, brief arguing, Y’all just desperate and gross, Eddie fucks you till you cry and talks you through it like the slut he is, he cums inside of you, makes sure to fuck all that attitude away, PUSSY EATING, very graphic descriptions of passionate n nasty intercourse

You hadn’t foreseen this happening.

Sure, you and Ed’s have gotten into little disputes before. Petty, insignificant quarrels about whether or not the other person actually took out the garbage or who would pay next date night. Two years is still short to some, for you and Eddie it felt like forever and yesterday all in the same universe. Heavenly, and mundane.

But this is a different beast all together. This morning makes day two that you two have had this weird, suffocating energy between both of you. The antagonist of this situation, is undoubtedly the conversation that was had at Steve’s weekend hangout.

A few hits from a joint, a shot or two of tequila and goofy sentences being passed around between two best friends. You and Robin being the spectators, content in your own little bubble, puffing on a spliff of your own. Heavy, fluffy blankets kept you warm, gave you weight to lean on when your head began to feel like it might float away.

The Christmas lights and the hum of the deep freezer in the corner of Steve’s basement almost distracted you completely in your haze, until it didn’t. Until Chrissy Cunningham came up. Until it was an innocent giggling fit about whether or not Chrissy ever had a crush on Eddie, the oxymoron in and of itself.

“Imagine that ever happening,” Steve chuckled, lightheartedly, taking a sip of his Diet Pepsi. “can’t say I can’t see it. She wanted you for sure, dude.”

Your ears twitched. Eyes thinning into inquisitive slits. Nothing about Steve’s tone was meant to be rude, or disrespectful, but the nature of the comment itself felt awkward and uncomfortable underneath your skin.

You almost turned your attention back to the Walkman blasting David Bowie. Almost.

“I saw her the other day, she came in for an oil change. Honestly, I never would’ve even thought she wanted me,” Eddie takes another rip of his bong. “But then she asked me if I do at home visits. Said she wanted to catch up with me.”

Maybe your reptilian brain overreacted. Or, maybe it didn’t. Honestly, you don’t blame yourself completely for the way you reacted after that statement. Nothing else he said after that mattered. All you could hear was your heartbeat in your own ears. Loud, thunderous

“I told her I wouldn’t do that, obviously.”

White noise.

And not only were you intoxicated, but you were already burnt out from work and school, touch starved from not having any time with your boyfriend as of late. A period of your current reality that you know will pass as all things do in life; but it was too much. This hangout was supposed to be somewhat intimate, something for you to both do together. A simplicity that normally wouldn’t even have to be mentioned. You and Eddie exist on the same axis.

The blanket became too heavy and the smoke in the room threatened to choke you further. You all but threw the fluffy cover off of you and stormed out. You heard Robin call after you, and Eddie. A pair of voices that meshed together like the drum line in a song that is so in sync with the guitar chorus that you can barely decipher it. The steps spin, but you manage to stay upright.

Cold November air chilled your face, your neck. You too a deep breath in while marching to the van parked just a few feet away on the newly slabbed pavement of Steve’s home. His parents are at their lake house so often that Steve claims their Hawkins residence as his own.

Predictably, a heavy thump of boots followed closely behind you. The scrape of worn soles and the squeak of an old leather jacket. A billow of smoke follows him, clings onto him like jasmine and rosemary to the freshly bathed. Your back felt like the warning signs at a crossroad. He felt helpless.

“Baby, hey,” he sounded breathless, desperate and confused. He’s never seen you so upset that you’d just walk out unprompted. “stop walking god dammit, please.”

You stopped reluctantly, the tears of frustration in your waterline blurring your vision of the violet, cloudless skyline. A wide, warm palm touched your shoulder and the heat seared you even through your hoodie. You flinched away instinctively, sore in your limbs from your own concoction of emotions. When you met his eyes, they were wide. Like a deer staring down the barrel of a gun in its own home.

Your face must have been something to see. A scowl, a mirror of sadness reflected in his umber eyes. Angry. He’d never seen you look at him that way. It felt like having his intestines twisted between two cold hands.

“You didn’t tell me that happened.”

You stated it plainly, but spitefully in nature. Your voice cracked and it made a brewing tear spill over your waterline and down the plump of your cheek. He had the overwhelming urge to comfort you, but knew he couldn’t. Knew you would likely flinch away like you did five seconds ago and he didn’t think he would physically be able to bear you trying to get away from him again.

He didn’t exactly know what was making you so upset. The conversation wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have said in front of you, which is why all of it was said in front of you. Perhaps his own intoxication made it hard to fully understand the velocity of his words, what they meant and how they could’ve been interpreted from your point of view.

“I didn’t think it was important.” His thick brows scrunched and deepened the wrinkle between them. You looked like your eyes might bulge out of your head.

You nearly choked on your own spit, the words to your reply getting caught square in the middle of your throat; and so you said nothing. You stepped forward, and then past him. And he realized too late that you were walking away from him.

“I’m gonna ask Steve to take me home.”

He was too stunned to speak. To react. To stop you, to plead for you to tell him what he did wrong. Or at least how to fix it. He felt himself crumble on the inside, like his bones were made of ash.

When he got back to the trailer that night, you weren’t there. And that’s when it all really set in. That he fucked up. For the past two weeks you’ve been here with him, playing house while Wayne caught a gig further up north. He thought, he thought that when you said home, maybe you meant here. With him.

He called that night, almost ten times. You answered on the eighth.

“I’m at my apartment Ed’s, I’m fine. I don’t want to argue, or talk. I just need to be by myself right now.”

He felt paralyzed by the pang in his chest. More so, he felt angry. Genuinely angry, and not just at himself, but selfishly, at you.

“Fine, glad you’re safe.”

He nearly broke the fucking landline.

Your eyes have to adjust to the brightness of your living room. Well, your bedroom, slash living room, slash kitchen. A studio in Hawkins is relatively affordable, but they aren’t lying when they say it’s a studio. The events from yesterday scream in your head instantly, along with the pounding of your pulse. Your bed is almost unfamiliar at this point, the blankets not worn enough, the sheets the scent of fresh dryer sheets instead of you and Eddie’s shared scent.

The beeping of your answering machine pulls you back down to reality, though not one you want to participate in currently. Unfortunately, you have no other choice.

They’re all from Eddie of course, and now that you’re not high you feel those wounds from the night before coming back, sticking you in the chest, ribs, liver. Along with the pain, you feel guilty. For your less than mature reaction. Though you know you can’t blame yourself, not having ever been in that situation. You’re human and reacted as so. But he’s your Eddie.

You listen to the last message, sent twenty five minutes ago.

“I’m coming over in thirty minutes, I don’t care if you don’t want to see me. We are going to talk this out. I love you.”

You huff in frustration, though you can’t say you aren’t relieved. Relieved that he’s coming, that he’s not giving up over some quarrel about Chrissy Cunningham. You have a tendency to think the entire world is caving in around you upon one minor inconvenience. This disruption in your daily routine feels like Armageddon.

You have time to brush your teeth and rinse the remaining paste off of your mouth before your front door opens. If you didn’t recognize his footsteps so well, it might be off putting to have someone just waltz into your home.

The bathroom door is open, so he spots you immediately, slipping off his worn in boots and placing them beside the door. He takes his leather jacket off and puts it over the stool that sits at your kitchen island. It makes your face hot, still. The ease in which you two have melded into each others lives. Even if you’re angry at him.

“I don’t know what to say, Ed’s.” It’s a lie. You walk past him to the kitchen and open the fridge, hiding from his gaze as you pretend to search for something. He clears his throat and you reluctantly close the refrigerator door, staring at the floor and backing yourself against the sink.

“I just - you’ve never left. Without telling me. Or talking to me. And, fuck I-“ he’s stammering already, taking steady breaths and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t think I had to tell you about an insignificant interaction with Chrissy Cunningham.”

You scoff, although it’s more of a giggle. And he looks at you like you’ve just lost your mind. Rare, for Eddie Munson to think someone else has lost their mind.

“Well you and Steve sure seemed to enjoy talking about it. You both were pretty giddy discussing whether or not Chrissy wanted to, or, sorry -“ you’re being defensive. Rude. You can’t help it. “wants to fuck you. Why would I want to hear about that? Why would I want to hear you guys talk about whether or not you both can see you and Chrissy together? Does that not sound incredibly fucked up, Ed’s?”

So much for not talking. Now it’s spilling out like a cracked flower vase. Your chest is heaving rapidly, face and body hot with anger. Your arms are crossed across your chest, a protection against whatever it is he might say, despite the fact that you’re the one who’s being rhetorical.

He shoves his ringed fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp and pulling lightly at the roots as he closes his eyes, contemplating. Seeing things through your eyes, attempting to. He winces.

“That’s not what we were trying to say,” he bites his cheek. “I mean I know it doesn’t matter what we were trying to say, the conversation shouldn’t have happened, but I can’t take it back. For fucks sake.”

He’s murmuring to himself, rubbing his rough palms over his tired face. He’s wearing one of your favorite tee shirts of his to steal. Iron Maiden. The sleeves are short enough to reveal the splattering of ink that crawls up his biceps. When his muscles move underneath his skin, the ink moves with them. It’s captured your attention suddenly, and now you’re raking your eyes over his entire figure.

Familiar black sweats cling onto his lower half. They fit perfectly on his lithe waist, loose on the rest. Except for his ass. He has a really cute ass. And these sweats specifically accentuate the shape before billowing down his thighs.

“Baby? You with me?”

The low timbre of his voice shakes you from your reverie. You’ve simmered off, the anger replaced with a different heat. It’s been too long since the two of you have just been together, this fight might be the most communication you’ve had in the past week due to your jobs, and school. Or the worries of the world, the overwhelming need to sleep when you aren’t working, to work when you aren’t sleeping.

You’ve forgotten about each other. Briefly, but not inevitably. Never that. You feel like you may collapse.

“I’m- yeah I’m with you.”

You let out a sigh, uncrossing your arms. You look and sound as defeated as you feel. He can’t pretend to not have noticed your silky, thin sleeping gown, but he is just a man. And your nipples are hard underneath the garment and he has never not thought you’re one of the most beautiful creatures he’s ever seen. You haven’t worn it in a while, preferring his clothes to sleep in since you’ve been staying with him. He missed seeing you like this.

He steps closer. Tentatively, afraid you might run away from him. You sense his hesitancy and a piece of your heart breaks, the piece where he lives. You meet his eyes, silently inviting him, glancing from his mouth then back up to his softening gaze. You watch his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He says, earnestly. His hands threaten to tremble when you reach out and grab them, heavy in your own. He hovers above you the closer he gets, your limbs connecting in a symbiotic way. One you feel the others skin, you can’t get away from it. Not until you’re pressed together, belly to belly, your chin tilted upward.

“You - ugh.” You can’t get words out anymore. They dissolve in your larynx and your head falls, the need to cry or scream or kiss him an overwhelming choice.

“I know baby, I know. I’m sorry.” He pats down your hair, rough thumbs caressing the softness of your cheeks. He pulls your face upwards again, staring down at you with regret, adoration, hunger.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have just left.”

He leans closer, till you smell the coffee on his breath and the hazelnut creamer alike. Your noses bump and rub against the other, his thick eyelashes fanning across his own cheekbones - casting a fluttery shadow.

“It’s okay now. We’re okay now.” He says it softly, just between the little space left between you two. “Let me take care of it. Please.” He closes the gap.

Some people assume it’s not supposed to feel as good as it does, kissing someone who’s lips you’ve mapped out like an atlas. That couldn’t be further from the truth, because kissing Eddie feels like being consumed.

And not just metaphorically, because it’s evident in the nips to your bottom lip, the sucking of your tongue whenever he feels it lick his teeth; that your small period of separation, and longer period of not having indulged each other, has weighed heavily on him as well. He’s starving.

You’re overtaken within seconds by the veracity of his mouth, your fingers taking purchase in the curls at his crown. Smacks and kisses and wet noises fill the small space, and the center of your stomach swells with a simmering heat. A reminder of how neglectful you both have been. Your nipples harden against him, as his dick twitches between his legs.

You feel nervous. Tentative. Excited.

His hands implore you like a new discovery, grasping at your back, and then down the sensitive slopes of your sides and over the plushness of your hips. Through the silky nightgown the sensation is riveting, enough to drive a person insane. You arch against him, and a whimper escapes your mouth into his throat.

“Mmm, mhm.” He groans.

“Eddie,” it’s a cry, wanton sound that makes him rut himself against you instinctively. Anything to relieve you. Anything to relieve himself. “baby.”

He smiles against your mouth, pecking it a few times before departing only for a second to see your kiss bitten lips, his and your spit coating your mouth. Your blown out pupils. He mirrors your appearance, like a wild creature.

“Never again,” his index fingers knuckle strokes the inside of your thigh, and you shudder, holding onto his broad shoulders for an anchor. You separate your legs without thinking. “we will never go through this again. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Three knuckles stroke your pubic mound, then down your covered slit where dampness threatens to leak. Your fingernails grip his shirt, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted in anticipation. He’s so warm, so palpable. You want him to bury himself inside of you.

He’s in front of you, and then he’s not. You blink, and hair tickles your thighs like you’re frolicking through an overgrown field. Strong, rough hands lift the delicate silk of your nightie until it’s being bunched between ringed fingers above your navel. He’s on his knees, devout for you.

You gasp when his tongue broadens against your center. Your panties are just enough barrier to make you wanna cry out in desperation, while also offering enough sensation to not dare stop for even a moment to pull them off. You’re at his mercy. Or is he at yours? Neither of you know anymore, and it’s not important.

Not when he gets a taste of you. Not when he peers up at you between lust sodden lashes and sees you looking down at him like you’re about to crumble. Your knees shake and he bunches the nightie in one fist instead of two, placing his free hand on the back of your thighs to steady you while he soaks your underwear with the spit from his tongue.

The shape of your slit and the plump lips around it begins to show its phantom form through the material from the soaking. He sucks, prods with the tip of his wet muscle.

“Ed’s, fuck.” Your voice is so weak. His cock weeps in his sweats, dribbling with copious amounts of precum. It’s torturous to not touch himself but he’s too focused on watching you, pleasing you. You hums against your mound, mocking you.

He pulls the elastic to the side, not patient enough to take them off all the way. You get to see his face for a split second, cherry red cheeks and a messy halo of hair and stubble on his chin. And then, you feel it.

His nose keeps your lips separated, his tongue already splayed against the soft, sensitive flesh between them. You’re slick and sticky and coating the lower half of his face, though you have trouble grasping onto the helms of reality when he’s licking your pussy like this. He shakes his head from side to side, tongue still flat until he’s spreading your thighs farther, so that he can lick your honey from the source.

“Hold it.” He mumbles, struggling to hand the falling material of your night gown to your shaking hands, though you get the memo when it threatens to cover his head completely. You use one hand to hold it, and the other to tug at his hair.

You can barely hear anything another than the sloppy wetness of his mouth working on you, and the sound of your own heartbeat, but you’re sure you’re whining. You can feel the rawness of your throat as you let your head fall back and cry to the ceiling, feeling the need to tear up.

You grip the roots of his locks, rocking against his mouth like you’ve got no other choice. He hums, encouraged by every squeak and moan that comes out of you, by every drip of your cunt and tensing of your muscles.

He doesn’t care that your thighs are squeezing around his head, or that you can barely hold yourself together. You’re using his face like second nature and his cock weeps in his pants. He feels himself throbbing in tandem with the pulsing of your hole around his tongue.

Then he pulls your lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the pink bud that resides underneath your hood, suckling and coating it with enough spit to drip onto the floor.

“Oh god,” you pant “m’gonna cum. Please don’t stop please please please.” 

You’re throttled, and not just by the pleasure but by how fast you’re descending into your own madness. You can’t hear much of anything, see anything but the back of your own eyelids - and your boyfriend is using half of his strength to keep your body upwards as you threaten to wilt.

He doesn’t stop, per your request but to your ultimate demise. You feel yourself leaking as your clit throbs from the aftershocks of a powerful - much needed and thoroughly missed, orgasm.

You think you might pass out, but he feels the trembling in your body and despite his need to keep going until you’re completely done for, all but comatose- he stops.

Through your clouded and hazy senses, your hands tug at his face, his head, his neck. Lazily you attempt to pull him up from his knees, and it’s not your strength that does it, it’s his own. But he lets you believe you pulled him to your mouth, before he even has the chance to wipe your essence off. Not that he cares to.

Your tongues collide in a messy exploration, he’s rough and saccharine and sweet all at once. Your paw at him like you’ve never felt him before, like he didn’t just have his mouth on your most private of parts.

“I need you in me.” You slur the words between open mouthed kisses. He’s pressed so flush against you that you can feel his dick throbbing, and you’re not sure if the wetness is your own or his. Perhaps both.

You’re hungry for it. He’s still starving, and your fingers clumsily pull the waistband of his sweats down until they’re pooled at his ankles. You wrap your hand around the thick member, angrily red at the tip, veins bulging from either side. The thatch of curly hair at his base is covered by his shirt but you don’t have the energy to remove it- to do anything other than ogle at the blood rushing through him, the feel of his pulse through his manhood. He throws his head back for a split second, taking a deep breath.

You turn around, facing the sink and resting your cheek against the cool metal of the edge. You offer yourself to him like this, an invitation in the form of a leaking cunt and buckling knees. His hands, rough and wide pull this godforsaken nightgown up and over the swell of your ass, knuckles grazing the back of your thighs in the process.

You want to look at him but you’re far too flustered, ironically. It’s completely idiotic to still be embarrassed at your own need for your own boyfriend - but someone as beautiful as Eddie doesn’t come around very often. Getting to do this feels like retribution.

“You’re so pretty,” he groans, out of breath. He crudely spits on his cock, you can hear the slick sounds of his precum mixing with his saliva as he strokes himself a few times, one hand on your left hip while he guides his mauve tip to your slit.

“I’m gonna fuck all that attitude away baby.”

The stretch is jarring and unexpected, but the sounds you both make as he sticks himself passed your gummy entrance isn’t. You grip the counter, and he leans his weight over you so that he can mouth at your shoulders while he pushes himself in to the hilt- kissing your cervix before his cock moved around it.

“Yeah?” He taunts, hair tickling your back and lips smearing kisses against your nape. “You’re so goddamn wet, this is all you needed huh?”

He’s genuine within the ruggedness of his voice. Within seconds he’s pulling himself out and shoving himself back in with something fierce driving him. He’s unforgiving in his pace once he gets into a comfortable stance, kicking his sweats off of his ankles and planting his feet behind you.

It’s a symphony of sticky, wet sounds, and grunts with compositions of skin against skin in your small kitchen. It’s been so long since you’ve felt him, since he’s felt you. He’s not just fucking you from the back, he’s mounting you - panting lewdly in your ear while his hands snake themselves around your shoulders.

You cry out, nothing coherent leaving your mouth. Your poor cunt was still contracting from the orgasm he gave you with his mouth when shoved himself inside of you, and now that little spongey spot is being brutally massaged over and over again with each stroke.

“That’s - s-so - good.” Your words are staccato, followed by petulant whines. You’re thankful for his hit breath on your neck, the groans leaving him, the weight of his body behind you. He’s close while still delivering a delicious punishment - a fucking that’s meant to make you forget about anything that’s happened this past week.

“Awe baby, it feels good hmm? You - fucking hell-“

His balls tighten and he knows he’s gonna cum soon, he’s too caught up in how you’re squeezing around him, throbbing from the inside out with your admiration for him. You try to reach back and touch him, but he holds your arms in front of you, a sort of embrace and restraint all in one.

“need to cum baby, need to show you how much I love you. Need to fill you - oh baby - need to fill you all the way. That’s it - there you go there you go, I know.”

He kisses your cheek where a tear falls down, your knees beginning to tremble again in tandem with his own. He ruts and ruts and ruts, your cream coating his cock, your warmth swallowing him whole.

He pulls out, and you think you might start weeping, till he turns you around by your waist and licks the inside of your parted lips. He hiked your leg up around his lithe waist, bends his knees and maneuvers his hips forward so that he can slide back into you.

Now that he can see your face, and you can see his, you both feel cathartic.

You hang onto his shoulders, clawing at his curls and he holds your face, damp lips centimeters away from your own while your foreheads rest against each other. You look down to watch him disappear inside of you, and you marvel at it. Your juices and the sounds they make, how pretty his dick looks coated in your release and his own pre ejaculate.

“M’so fucking deep,” he’s shaking now, sweat beading down his neck. His bottom lip quivers and you begin to realize how this must feel for him as well. How badly you both needed the other. “it feels so fucking good, so good so good so good.”

He’s babbling and you pull his mouth to yours again, suckling on his tongue. With some foreign strength, you use your voice.

“Please cum, I love you Eddie. I want you to cum for me please please, I can’t take it. Cum for me cum for me cum for me I love you.”

He thinks he might cry, he’s so fucking deep when you wrap your arms around him, when your hips are connected so closely that you can’t tell where one of you begins and the other one ends - when the sweet lullaby that is your voice serenades him, begs him to let go.

“Oh god, oh fuck I’m - fuuuuck.”

He tightens, stuttering inside of you while small gasps of pleasure leave him like hiccups. You inhale the scent of his hair, feel the rise and fall of his breath from between his shoulder blades. You’re both twitching, barely standing. A mess, and certainly a sight to see.

He stays like that for a few moments, just enough for all of his cum to dribble out from the tip and into you. When he pulls out, the sound is audible and crude, and he swears to himself he will clean the mess on your kitchen floor.

You don’t know who kisses who first.

Both of you go for the others neck, cheeks, forehead. Gently, with enough love to fill an entire universe itself. It’s a juxtaposition to the way you just had each other. It’s love. Pure, unadulterated, sickeningly sweet to the melancholy.

“I’m staying here tonight,” he kisses your eyelids, then your nose, out of breath. “and I’m gonna make breakfast in the morning. We are never letting this happen again.”

You scratch his scalp.

“Which part? Cause-“ he rolls his eyes, smiling boyishly. Enough to show his dimples, flash his teeth.

“You know which part, I’ll give you whatever you want. But I’m never going this long without being around you. Not ever.”

He’s devout, sincere in a way that is irrevocable. You don’t argue, don’t wince, don’t make a face. You nod, suckling his bottom lip.

You listen.

[aniesvision]

sometimes (matt sturniolo x bff!reader)

warnings: dirty jokes, making out, oral, p in v, no use of y/n, just smut idk how to describe it (?) sorry if I'm missing something

a/n: hi! english is not my first language, but I really hope you like it and if anything's wrong please let me know 💜 also this is kinda long!!

synopsis: when Matt sees his best friend's boobs accidentally and he can't stop thinking about it afterwards.

🪻🪻🪻

I was finishing my shower and night routine, the bathroom door half open as I slide my long t-shirt on, deciding on not wearing a bra for better comfort.

-Hey, we're about to go to Burger King, do you... -I hear Matt's voice getting louder as he gets closer to the bathroom, mindlessly pushing the door open to see me, just to accidentally be surprised by the sight of my bare breasts. -Oh, shit, sorry.

I laugh, not really caring. He was a close friend and it was an accident, and honestly it was just my boobs.

-What were you gonna ask? -I get out of the bathroom, now fully dressed, throwing my wet hair back and out of my shirt.

-I don't... remember. -He keeps staring at the wall, cheeks slightly red in embarrassment.

I smile, taking a few steps closer to him and gently rubbing his arm with my hand.

-It's fine, Matt, not a big deal, I promise. -I try to make him less awkward, witch kind of works since he looked at me again and smiled, nodding.

-Nice piercings tho. -He giggles, making me laugh and shake my head in disbelief with his comment.

Suddenly more footsteps could be heard and Chris' face appeared, he was clearly annoyed.

-What's taking so long? -He asks, looking at his brother for an answer.

This makes Matt remember his question, what he meant to do when he walked all the way over the bathroom.

-Oh, yeah, uh, do you wanna go to BK? -He asks, making me giggle a bit and nod.

-Why didn't you ask her when you got here?. -Chris asks, confused, crossing his arms and looking between me and Matt.

I could see Matt's cheeks turning red once more, making me laugh and tap his shoulder playfully, passing through him and Chris while I responded.

-He was freaking out 'cause he accidentally saw my boobs. -I explain, shrugging and taking a turn to reach the stairs to the garage.

Chris looks at Matt with his mouth shaped like an 'O' and eyes widen in shock.

-What the fuck? Did you really? -He asks his brother, letting his arms fall to his sides.

-Yeah. -Matt replies, shyly, putting his hands in his pockets.

-How did they look like? -Chris asks, again, with a playful smirk and clear curiosity. But also, to tease Matt about it. He wasn't gonna let his brother forget this moment ever happened.

-Alright, c'mon dude. -He shakes his head, pushing Chris down the stairs as his brother just laughed.

During the way in, me and Nick talked about Billie's new album and some other songs we liked.

Chris entertained himself with the songs playing, since he had aux, and Matt focused on driving most of the time.

(3rd person)

Matt was constantly fighting his thoughts, the scene of him walking in on you and accidentally seeing your boobs, the way they looked so firm, with the piercings decorating your nipples. He couldn't lie to himself, it was the most beautiful pair of boobs he has ever seen, and he was intrigued.

He didn't let things get awkward between them, still making jokes and talking normally to her, the words "she's still your best friend" repeating in his mind like a mantra.

Fortunately, Chris didn't mention what happened, witch could be a good, but also bad thing.

If he wasn't talking about it now, means he's going to trap Matt into talking later, and Matt didn't really wanted to share details on how you looked. One because he respects you, two because he knows that if he speaks his brother might wanna take a look too and he's not infatuated about the idea of Chris also being able to see them, three because he knows you for months and you never seemed to care about this stuff, at least you didn't seem to care whenever you were around them, probably because you trusted them, and he didn't want to lose your trust. Or you.

The not so healthy dinner got to an end and you were all on your way back to their house.

You were never picky when it was time to choose whose room you were going to crash in, always leaving it to the boys to decide. And Matt was quick to ask you to stay in his tonight.

Half of his mind scared of Chris asking you to stay with him, the other half scared of sharing a bed with you after what happened. And the thoughts that would go through Chris's mind, considering he knows what happened too, only makes it worse.

But you accepted it. And you didn't really mind, you love all three of them and already did shared a bed with all of them anyways.

You all say your goodnights, Nick's climbing the stairs to his room to edit a video that should be out tomorrow, Chris hugging you with a smirk that only Matt could see, making sure to kiss your cheek and yell "don't make too much noise, kids!" before disappearing.

Matt rolls his eyes at his brother's tease, pulling you by the hand with him to his room.

First it wasn't so different from all the times you've spend with him in his room. You've talked about life, games, songs, a new show you guys were both watching. There was a quick brake to brush your teeths and other night routine things, and you were now both back on his bed.

You were sitting cross-legged on the left side of his bed, plugging the charge to your phone, and he was sitting with his legs spread, mindlessly scrolling through his tiktok. The silence was comfortable, and you take a deep tired breath before letting yourself rest your head on his shoulder and watch some videos with him.

(end of 3rd person)

-Feeling sleepy yet? -He asks, with a cute smile, looking down at me and locking his screen, placing his phone on his nightstand.

-Just a bit. -I smile back, sitting upright and covering my legs with the blanket.

He lays beside me, gesturing me to do the same, so I do, and now we're both sideways facing each other.

(3rd person again)

Matt couldn't shake his thoughts away. Even now, after knowing it was possible to just act friendly and pretend nothing happened, something inside him almost screamed. It was like a gigantic need that he was battling against, the urge to just ask her to see them again. To see those, unfortunately for him, perfect boobs once more. As friends, of course. He wouldn't do anything, just stare.

He didn't say anything, how could he? But the way his eyes looked at her, so confused yet intrigued. She knows him well, something was going on in his mind and she could tell.

-What's up? -She asks, placing one hand under her head, looking at him intently.

-Nothing. -He lies, smiling, trying to forget his own mind.

But he couldn't fool her.

-You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. -She's quick to announce, gently pressing her free hand on his arm to comfort him.

She didn't want him to feel pressured or like he needed to say what was bothering him if he didn't want to share.

There's a moment when he tries to make it all seem like he was just tired, turning on the tv and off the lights. The background noise and illumination making his heart beat faster, he knows he can't just simply ignore everything, or ignore her. So, when they were almost about to just go to sleep and not even speak about it, he sighs.

-Are you sure you didn't mind what happened? I feel guilty. -He finally speaks his mind, making her head turn to look at him with a small assuring smile.

-I don't mind at all, Matt, you don't need to feel guilty, it wasn't your intention, I get it. And I mean, it was just some boobs, you probably saw lots of them throughout your life. -She shrugs, really seeming like she didn't care.

It only fuels his courage to get more into it.

-Not that many, but with piercings was a first. -He decides to keep the mood light, just on top of the friendly barrier.

-And what did you think? -She asks, with a playful smirk, finding it amusing how he was slowly starting to feel more comfortable to talk about it.

Of course she wanted to talk things through, but didn't want to be the first mentioning it.

-Looks hot. -He shrugs, like it was oh so easy for him to let these words come out his mouth.

The sound of her laughter makes him even more confident, it shows him that yes it's okay for them to talk about it, and even to make some flirtatious comments. It was almost like he forgot they're close friends with all the embarrassment from earlier.

-Well, I appreciate it. It must look good if it hurts so bad to do it. -She carelessly shove her hand under her long t-shirt, cupping one of her boobs to feel the jewelry there.

His eyes follow her hand, and for a second he wishes it was his hand there instead. It was like he couldn't stop those unfriendly thoughs. Even knowing they're just friends and he shouldn't see her like that, it was hard not to.

-When did you get them? -His question was somehow innocent, he wanted to keep the conversation going.

-Almost a year ago I guess. -She starts playing with the jewelry, moving it side to side, Matt's eyes following it, containing his body from shoving her hand away and doing it himself.

-Does it hurt when you move it? -He lifts his eyes to hers, making sure he wasn't being caught staring at her boobs.

-Nah, nothing hurts anymore, it's all good. At first it was weird, and honestly I think it's all about looks, from all I've heard it doesn't taste the best. But I mean, it does probably taste like metal, what the fuck do anyone expect?

She rambles, giggling after her small vent, her eyes finding Matt's. He had a tiny smirk on his lips, and a know-it-all face like he was about to say she just said the most obvious thing ever. But he doesn't. Instead, he decides to taste the water.

-I mean, probably yeah, but I wouldn't mind the metal taste.

His words caught her by surprise, her eyes widening just the slightest bit.

-Oh, really?

He was scared of crossing the limits. But she was also giving him open doors to flirt with her. Matt was trying to keep things slow and friendly, with a little bit of flirting, but he wasn't exactly prepared to see where things would go from here. Although, he wouldn't and couldn't stop himself. Not now, when his dick is already starting to grow hard.

His only response was to look at her with a shrug, his way of confirming it without seeming so desperate.

-Well, alright, I mean, if you ever wanna try it...

She doesn't waste any time giving him one more extremely open door, a fucking gigantic wall of opportunity. She also made it look like it wasn't a big deal, but she was clearly offering him to change things in their friendship. And he would be insanely crazy to turn it down.

-Just to know if I like it, right? -Matt smirks grow, and the way she bites her lips and nods is all he needs to cross that line.

(end of 3rd person)

Matt moves his hand to the side of my body, pulling me closer. He keeps us just mere inches apart, our breathing mixing together. He keeps his eyes on mine, his hand gently caressing my waist, before slowly lowering it to the hem of my t-shirt.

We were almost having a telepathic conversation, his eyes asking for permission and a quick nod of my head encouraging him to slide his fingers under my shirt. The coldness of his fingertips contrasting with my warm skin makes me fold my lips to prevent myself from sighning loudly.

He starts to slowly explore my skin, his fingers curiously roaming around the new territory. Matt finally makes his move by slightly brushing his fingertip on my nipple. He feels the cold jewelry, how hard my nipples were, how the piercing could easily slide side to side.

I had to close my eyes when his gaze felt too intense and I let myself sigh when I feel his hand squeezing my breasts. It only makes it easier for him to keep it going and feel free to do more.

Matt quickly take control and push me backwards on the bed, hovering over me, keeping him up by his forearm next to my face while his other hand keeps squeezing and playing with my boobs.

I open my eyes to see him in a position I've never seen before. One of my best friends on top of me, squeezing my boobs. He notices my gaze and smiles, leaning down to press gentle kisses on my neck.

It was hard to keep the loud sighs from leaving, my head immediately tilting to give him more access. It didn't take long until he was lifting my t-shirt up my chest and attacking my nipples with his mouth, a loud surprised gasp escaping my lips.

He swirled his tongue around my nipple, licked it and sucked it lightly. My hand goes to his hair, pulling him closer as I throw my head back with eyes closed and lips parted.

He keeps the assault on my nipples, leaving red and purple marks on the valley of my boobs. Matt was clearly taking his time, enjoying it. He uses his fingers to pinch my right nipple while he kitty licked the other one, eliciting a low moan from my lips.

His lips keeps pleasuring me, making me look down at him when he starts to lower his kisses to the hem of my sweatpants. I prop myself on my elbows, not knowing what to say after all that, but he doesn't wait for me, slowly slipping my pants down my ankles, giving me time to stop him if I wanted to. But I didn't.

Matt starts kissing my thighs, my breathing getting heavier with each kiss. He leaves open mouth kisses on my inner thighs, his fingers sliding under the sides of my panties, gently pushing them down.

-Fuck, you're so beautiful.

His voice was low and hoarse, making me immediately clench around nothing and bite my lips. He leans his head enough to be in the middle of my thighs, and his tongue licks a stripe from my entrance to my clit, a shaky moan escaping my lips.

I let myself lay backwards again, one of my hands gripping the sheets and the other finding it's way back to his hair.

Matt eats me out like a starved men, moving his head and feeling every single detail and spot of my pussy with his tongue. His hands are on each of my thighs, keeping me still for him. Just the sight of him in between my legs, eating me out, was enough to make me wetter.

He for sure knows what he's doing.

My moans get louder, and I can't even stop them from coming when he's this good. He tongue fucks me, sliding one of his hands down my stomach and pushing my skin up with his thumb to kitty lick my clit.

-Matt, fuck, keep going. -I moan, my eyes rolling back.

I can feel his smirk when he moves his hand under his chin and slide one finger in, continuing his movements. My knuckles are white gripping the sheets, the tug on his hair tightened and I pull him even closer, my hips bucking and rolling against his face.

-Shit, Matt! -I moan his name loudly when I feel the familiar knot on my stomach starting to form.

He increases his pace, determined to make me finish, and with my persistent moans it was easy to see that I was close. It doesn't take long for the knot to snap and I release all over his face, my juices dripping down his chin.

He rides out my orgasm, pulling his face away and looking up at me before pushing his finger out. He licks his finger clean and hovers over me again, my chest rising and falling rapidly and my half lidded eyes meeting his.

He smiles, wiping my juices out his chin with the top of his hand, his eyes looking down to my lips. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. I could feel my own taste on his tongue.

My hands are quick to lift his shirt, the fabric soon discarded with my own clothes on the floor. Feeling his skin so close to mine was so different, yet so good. His pants were next on the floor and my hand was fast to palm his bulge. He was big, I could feel it over his boxers, it would be painful to fit.

When we were both fully naked, I let myself stare down his body. His lips curved into a smile, his hand stroking his shaft a few times before teasing my folds with his tip.

-Are you sure? -He asks, in a low voice, not stopping the teasing for a second.

-A hundred percent sure. -I nod, feeling him slide his tip in.

I gasp in pleasure and surprise, my eyes closing to focus on adjusting when he pushs all of him at once.

-Fuck, so tight. -He whispers, burying his head on my shoulder.

-Tell me when to move. -Matt's voice is quiet, like he was battling not to thrust unless I was comfortable enough.

I take my time to adjust, shifting under him to find the best position. When I finally feel ready, I give him the permission to move and he does. And god it feels so good.

He begins to bite a few hickeys on my neck, one of his arms keeping him up and the other pulling my leg up to thrust deeper. His hand was on my thigh, keeping my leg up, and my hands were leaving bruises on his back.

His thrusts were fast and deep, hitting all the right places. He pulls away from my neck just to kiss me again, a slow and sloppy kiss that didn't match the pace of his thrusts, but made everything feel better.

-Touch yourself, sweetheart. -He orders, still with his lips against mine.

My heart skips a beat with how hot it was to hear him saying that, and I easily comply, moving one hand to rub circles on my clit.

My moans are swallowed by his kiss, the sensitivity and intensity of the situation making another orgasm build up my stomach.

-Matt, fuck, I... -I cut the kiss to warn him, his eyes finding mine.

-Go on, cum all over my cock for me.

His dirty words were enough to make me climax once more. A loud moan of his name hanging from my lips, encouraging Matt to fuck me harder and faster to ride my orgasm and reach his own.

-Fuck, where do you want me? -He asks, his voice desperate and shaky.

-In me. -I whisper, immediately feeling his hot seed filling me up.

Our foreheads were together, both of us catching our breaths. He slowly pulls out and collapses on the bed beside me. I whine when I feel our mixed cums dripping down my shaky legs.

-I'll get us cleaned. -He announced, standing and reaching for a towel.

He cleaned himself, then cleaned me up and helped me wear my clothes again, pressing a quick kiss on my forehead.

-Do you need anything? Water? Need to pee? -He asks, looking at me with attention, and I smile with the way he was so caring.

-I'll go pee, can you get us some water in the meantime?

He nods and we do exactly what we said. It's just when we lay down together again that I realize what we just did. Matt looks at me quietly, pushing a strand of hair out off my face and behind my ear.

-Matt... -I call his attention, witch he immediately granted.

-Yes, sweetheart?

-We fucked. -I tilt my head a bit, confused with my own choice of words, but he only laughed and nodded.

-Yeah, we did. -His hand slide down my waist, pulling me closer to him.

-And... uh, now what?

I went straight to the point, although my words weren't exactly good to show what I was implying. It would be okay if he said it was just it and we're just friends, but I kind of didn't want it to be just an one time thing.

-I don't know.

He also seemed confused, not sure where this would lead us.

-Are we just going to ignore it and pretend it didn't happen, or we're going to acknowledge it but keep things friendly from now on, or we'll be able to do it again someday?

I ask, and he smiles cutely, pressing a quick peck on my lips.

-I don't want to just ignore it. I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep things friendly after that, only if that's what you want, but if your willing to I'd rather continuing fucking you sometimes.

He laughs, and I couldn't help but giggle too.

-You're an idiot. But, yeah, I'd actually like that.

-Oh, so you want me to keep fucking you. -He smirks, squeezing my waist, and I laugh at him.

-Shut up, Matt. Only sometimes. -I roll my eyes, and he pulls me into another kiss.

-I'm good with that.

a/n: omg this is TERRIFYING how do you guys post this kind of stuff so normally 😭 it was fun to write but it's so scary to post, I really hope it's at least understandable lol

[mopopshop]

Tiktok pranks w/ Emily

I saw someone else do stuff similar to this and I wanted to try it but with Emily, pls don’t take this as copying or wtv 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾😖😖😖

Calling Emily another girl’s name

You set up your phone in the kitchen as Emily’s back is turned, the phone is set to record and you make sure it’s hidden so she doesn’t spot it. Quickly smiling at the camera you pretend to be casual and silent for a second before speaking up.

“Hey, Ella- I mean Em can you pass me a bowl?” you mumble slightly to disguise the  “mistake” 

Emily’s head whips around at breakneck speed and you fight the urge to laugh as you see the look on her face “Who?”

“You? Babe, who else” 

“You said Ella, who the fuck is Ella?”

“I said Em pass me a bowl, so can you pass me a bowl?” you’re lips quiver as your composure and need to laugh heightens 

“I literally just heard you call me Ella”

“Dude I didn’t and I just want my bowl so come on”

“I’m ‘dude’ now?”

“Ell- Emily I’m being serious I just want the stupid bowl for my cereal” you turn around to laugh, covering it with a cough

“You just fucking did it again!! You gotta be joking with me right now bruh, ain’t no way in hell…” Her voice raises in pitch and that’s what finally breaks you, you burst out laughing and grab your phone. Shoving it in her face as she quickly turns red from the embarrassment. 

“I pranked your ass, I pranked your ass!” you laugh and sing song as you leave the kitchen.

“Fuckin’ whatever dude” she scoffs

“Oh so I’m dude now?” you mock her quickly in return then run up to her with your arms wide as a silent apology.

—————————————————————————

Calling Emily you’re friend to get her reaction

You have your phone propped up on your vanity mirror, bare faced and starting to film your GRWM (with a fun little prank in the middle)

Emily had just walked into frame as she’s already done getting ready before you, like always. She always has to make her presence known in your videos to keep the horny singles out of your comments. 

“Alright everyone get ready with me! Today me and my friend,” you make it obvious as you point to Emily who’s head is down while she scrolls through her phone “are heading out to get some food and shop. Just like a cute little day outing”

Emily immediately takes notice to your wording instantly, her head pops up and she makes eye contact with you through your vanity mirror. Her face is caked with confusion “Hold on.. your frien-“

You cut her off to continue the prank “I was thinking of doing an OOTD before we go so I’ll probably show y’all my friends fit first then mine”

Her face only scrunches up further as you continue to talk “Who- who’s your friend?”

“Huh? Hold on, let me finish the video and we can go” you say over your shoulder then turn back to the camera, grabbing a curling iron and beginning to wrap your strands of hair around it “you guys have been commenting on where I got my curling iron from and it was actually a gift from my bestie back there-“ 

You get cut off as Emily storms up to your phone, snatching it from the vanity as the camera is still rolling “Don’t know what the hell she’s talking about, we are NOT friends. I am her girlfriend, her girlfriend that she has se-“

You chase after her and grab the phone before she can finish that sentence “Okay!! Prank worked, by people” and quickly swipe from TikTok.

You’re pissing your pants laughing as you turn to look at Emily who doesn’t look as tickled as you. 

You pout and exaggerate your puppy eyes, opening your arms for a hug “I’m sowy my wittle baby, don’t cwy”

She rolls her eyes “I’m leaving without you”

————————————————————————-

hope you guys enjoyed!! this is the start of a few fics and hcs that i’m dropping right after this so look forward 🫡🤞🏾

[ellieslovr]

mad love (e.williams)

a day in the life of you and your girlfriend, notorious killer, ellie williams.

-A/N:This is an excerpt for a longer series i’m working on, which takes place in that same universe. I hope you all like it, if so I’ll post the first chapter! important note at the end too :)

-CW:extreme blood kink,possessive ellie, choking, breeding kink, degradation, strap on sex, spit kink, finger sucking, oral fixation, body worship, praise kink, domesticity kink? (is that a thing?)

-i do NOT condone any of these things irl as a disclaimer, this is a work of fiction.

˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹

It all happened in a blur. Ellie came home from her latest kill, still giddy with excitement. The adrenaline was pulsing through her veins, and she was practically bouncing off the walls.

She swings the door to the penthouse open and kicks off her steel toed boots, the same she had used to stomp her victim’s face into the ground.

She knew you’d scold her for getting blood on the hardwood you just cleaned, but she was too excited to care. She looks around for any sign of you, but all she sees is an empty room.

She checks the bedroom. Nope, not there. All of a sudden, she hears running water. She silently makes her way towards the bathroom, careful to not alert you. The door is unlocked, so she pushes it open quietly.

You’re humming contentedly to yourself in the shower, some pop song you’d heard on the radio.

With a devilish grin on her face, Ellie jerked the shower curtain to the side. Not expecting it, you scream bloody murder.

Ellie just stands there, beaming at you. Her eyes drop down to your naked body, and she wolf whistles. “Looking good babe.”

You roll your eyes. “You scared me half to death, you dick.” You reply. She smiles, reaching out to touch your cheek. You jerk away from her, and she frowns.

“Come on, gimme a kiss.” You shake your head and point to her clothes. “Take those off and get in here.” You tell her. She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh? Are you trying to get dirty again?” She asks, laughing.

You whack her lightly on the arm as she strips off her clothes. “No, I just don’t want to use up all the hot water and leave you with none.” You reply.

She coos. “That’s sweet of you, babe.” She steps in the shower with you, letting the water run down her body. You take note of a few scrapes and cuts, ones that weren’t there earlier when she left.

“I take it they fought back?” You asked, a finger tracing one of the most prominent ones. She sighs. “Yeah, but I got him in the end.” She replied. You run your fingers through her wet hair, washing out some of the dirt.

“Who was it this time?” You ask. She turns around to face you. “Some rich dude who was involved with Joel’s crew back in the day. He fucked them over, didn’t pay back his debts. If it were me I would’ve killed him right there.” She groans in pain as you run your fingers over a bruise on her chest.

“Sorry.” You murmur, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She continues. “I took care of it though, you know me, I hold grudges.” You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re still mad at me for beating you in Mario Kart.” She sticks her tongue out.

“Whatever, you cheated.” “I did not!” You exclaim, splashing her with water. She laughs, moving out of the way. You turn back around and start to lather yourself up with soap, when you feel Ellie’s hands start to wander.

“Babe?” You call her. “Hm, what’s up?” She replies, hands going lower. “What’re you doing back there?” You ask.

You know for a fact she’s smirking as she remains silent, moving her hand down to slap your ass.

“Ellie!” You scold, turning around. “What? Come on, you knew it was coming!” You shake your head with a grin.

“Hurry up and get washed up, I’ll start dinner soon.” You tell her. She nods and continues her routine. You step out of the shower a few minutes later, with her in tow. You’re able to dry off and avoid her wandering hands. “They have a mind of their own, babe!” She’d told you once.

Once you’re dressed, you step out into the kitchen and grab one of the cookbooks from the shelf. “Els, what do you feel like tonight?” You ask. She doesn’t reply. You turn around, looking for her. “Ellie?” You call.

She appears behind you suddenly, wrapping her arms around your waist. She buries her face into your neck and inhales, groaning softly. “Shit, Ellie..” You mutter, pulling her closer. “You smell so good, fuck. I missed you so much.” You grin, leaning into her embrace. “I missed you too.”

Her tongue darts out to run across your neck, making you shiver. She slowly kisses her way up, until she reaches your lips. At this point you’re desperate, so you pull her into a hungry kiss.

She moans into it, her hands wandering down to squeeze your ass. Her tongue slides into your mouth, tangling with yours. When she pulls away, you’re both panting. “Take me to bed.” You tell her, looping your arms around her waist.

She grins and lifts you into her arms, carrying you to the bedroom. You loved how strong she was, how effortlessly she could pick you up and carry you around.

You also loved the little things she’d do for you, like lifting heavy things even if you were perfectly capable. Her love language was acts of service, and it definitely showed in her daily life with you.

While your thoughts were wandering, Ellie placed you down gently onto the bed. She pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you smiled up at her. “I take it you’re still on an adrenaline high?” You ask.

She nods, grinning like a maniac. “Mhm, you’re right. You gonna let me use you?” Her words cause you to blush. “Yes daddy.” You reply in a sultry tone.

Ellie’s pupils dilate. “Fuck. Let me take these off, baby.” She tells you as she begins to tug at your shirt.

You let her undress you, and she pauses for a moment, smirking up at you. “You didn’t put any panties on?” She asked. You blush. “They’re all in the laundry.” Ellie raises an eyebrow. “I just did the laundry.”

You groan, covering your face. “Shut up, you know why I didn’t put any on.” She laughs. “I know, sweetheart. Wanted me to have easy access, huh? Such a slut.”

You’re pretty sure you’re dripping onto the mattress at this point, and Ellie decides to take mercy on you. She slowly circles your entrance with two fingers, while using her thumb to massage your clit. “Ellie..” You moan softly, and she shushes you.

“Just relax baby, I’ve got you.” Her fingers move slowly in and out of you, making a shiver go up your spine.

“That’s my girl, so fucking wet.” She crooned into your ear. The wet squelching sounds of her fingers fucking you echoed off the bedroom walls, and Ellie grinned. “Aw, did this pussy miss me that much?” She asked, lips grazing your jawline.

Ellie’s thumb strokes slowly up and down your swollen clit, while holding you down to the mattress with her other hand. “Poor thing, she didn’t even touch you while I was gone? You must be so pent up.” The realization that she’s not talking to you, but to your pussy, makes your face grow hot.

It was degrading and demeaning, like you were nothing more than a toy, and you loved it. When a soft whimper leaves your lips, Ellie decides to take pity on you in her own special way.

You hadn’t noticed that she’d put the strap on, so you gasped when she pressed against you. You shut your eyes in anticipation and Ellie tuts in response, pushing into you.

She starts thrusting slowly, a low groan coming from the back of her throat. “You’re fucking dripping, baby. Yeah, this pussy knows who it belongs to, doesn’t it?” She asks, grabbing your face with one hand.

You nod, and she glares at you. “Say it.” When you take too long to respond, she slips two fingers into your mouth. “If you can’t speak properly, put your mouth to better use.” You do as she says, not wanting to push her any further.

She keeps a steady movement, her hips slamming into yours while your tongue swirls around her fingers. She pulls them out of your mouth suddenly, and spreads them apart in front of your face.

A thin string of saliva connects them, and she brings those same fingers to her mouth and wraps her lips around them. You moan at this, rocking your hips to meet her thrusts.

Ellie grunts and leans over you, green eyes piercing into yours. “Open.” She orders.

You let your jaw hang slack, and stare up at her. She opens her mouth, letting your mixed saliva trail down to her tongue.

She spits into your open mouth, and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her flannel. “Swallow.” She orders, eyes never leaving yours. You do so, and she hums in approval.

She starts to fuck you faster, her pace brutal and unforgiving. When you look away for too long, Ellie grips your throat.

“Fucking look at her baby, look at the way she swallows my fucking cock. No no, don’t you dare look away.” She grunts.

You moan loudly, nails digging crescents into her back. You feel a bit bad, since her back was pretty scratched up from her victim earlier. She didn’t seem to mind though, as she was currently groaning into your ear.

“God, you’re makin’ such a mess. You’re a dirty fucking whore, you know that?” She asks, reaching up to roll your nipple between her fingers. “Just for you.” You breathe, back arching in response to her touch.

She lets go of your nipple and squishes your cheeks between her free hand once more, forcing you to open your mouth.

She leaned in to kiss you, letting her tongue slide against yours. She bit down, causing you to yelp. You kept kissing her nonetheless, as the taste of blood invaded your mouth.

You moan louder at this, and Ellie kisses you harder. When she pulls away, she gives you a lazy smile, her eyes half lidded. “I should come home all bloody one of these days, yeah?” She asked. “Fuck you while I’m covered in it, you’d look so pretty.” She groans at the image inside her head, pounding into you faster.

She has a tight grip on your hips, and you’re absolutely certain you’ll have bruises in the morning, but you don’t care. Ellie speaks up. “Oh fuck, I can feel you clenching around me. You like that idea baby? You want me to come home straight from a kill and fuck you, let the blood stain your skin?”

You rake your nails down her back, hard enough to draw blood. She hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure, and continues to thrust into you.

“You’re a depraved fucking whore, nothing but a nasty slut. How long have you been waiting for my cock for, huh?” Ellie asked.

You whine in response, fucking yourself on her strap. “I’ll fucking give it to you baby, don’t worry. Anything you want princess, just say the word. I’d, fuck-” A particularly hard thrust. “I’d do anything for you.”

The weight behind her words and the emotion in her voice almost tipped you over the edge. You decide to ask her a question that’s been on your mind since the first time you found out who she really was. “Would you kill for me?” You ask her.

Ellie could’ve cum from just that question.

“Course I would baby, my girl gets whatever she wants, whenever she wants it.” She reaches down to pinch your clit between her fingers.

You moan as a jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine. “You spoil me too much.” You tell her. It’s half teasing, half sincere. She just coos down at you, speeding up. “Just take it baby.” She tells you.

You’re not sure whether she’s talking about her strap or her lavish treatment of you, but you decide not to question it.

“I meant what I said doll, anything for you. Cars, clothes, those expensive perfumes you like..” Ellie trails off, getting lost in the way you writhe and moan underneath her.

She takes in your soft skin, your pretty face and..how good you’d look carrying her baby. God, the thought alone could make her cum right then and there.

She’d considered it before, settling down, starting a family with you. She knew she’d have to change her ways for that, but she didn’t mind.

She meant it when she said she’d do anything for you. While the two of you did have a breeding kink, you’d never really explored past that initial conversation.

Ellie decides to test the waters. “Fuck, m’ gonna make you such a pretty little housewife. Gonna come home from work and fuck you on top of the same table we eat from, we’re gonna do such nasty shit-“ You sob, thrusting your hips to meet hers. “Yes.” You choke out.

Bingo. She’s got the green light, feels like she’s won the damn lottery.

She continues on. “Yeah, you like that baby? Wanna be my wife? You gonna let me fuck a baby into this pretty pussy? Gonna let me make you a mama?” You cry out, you’re so close, and she laughs condescendingly. “So fucking cute.” A kiss to your lips. “You want me to breed you that badly, baby? Stuff you full of my cum? The sneer in her tone was undeniable.

“Yes Ellie,keep me stuck here with you, bind me to you forever, please daddy-“

Your cries are cut off by Ellie, who lets out a loud guttural moan. She cums onto the strap, soaking your chest and stomach.

You follow soon after, a mixture of soft moans and pleas leaving your throat.

After a few moments of silence broken by occasional heavy panting, Ellie manages to catch her breath. “That was- fucking incredible.” She murmured against your chest.

You laugh. “It was.” You’re absentmindedly stroking her sweaty hair, trying to find the energy to get up and go to the bathroom.

When you finally stand up on wobbly legs, Ellie’s right behind you. However, her legs are shaky too, so she’s not much better off. The two of you hobble to the bathroom, holding onto the wall for support.

Once you finally reach it, Ellie turns on the water to start a bath. She dumps some soap in, and turns back to face you. “C’mon, I’ll help you in.”

You lean against her once you’re both in the tub, and sigh contentedly. “You planning on actually getting clean this time?” You ask her.

She presses her face into your neck to hide her smirk. “Maybe.” She replies. You laugh and she lifts her head up, grinning at you.

You take a moment to take it all in. How despite everything you and Ellie had been through, you were still here. She was still here. You bump your forehead against hers.

“Hey.” You murmur. She gives you a toothy grin and brushes your noses together. “Hey.” You reach up and caress her cheek, and she closes her eyes.

“I’m really glad you’re okay. I love you.” You tell her.

You’ve told her this tons of times, it shouldn’t be anything new. However, she stills get choked up every time you say it.

“I love you too.” She replies, pressing a kiss to your lips.

You weren’t sure what the future held, but you knew she’d be there by your side.

_________________

Thanks for reading this far if you have! I wanted to drop where i got my inspiration for this from. It’s from a book by Eden Emory, in the club petale series. Inspiration for Ellie’s personality comes from Avery, a character in the third book. I implore you all to read that book series, it’s genuinely one of my favorites. Please heed the tws though!

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! reader, what if they have been dating for 4 months, and Eddie is still getting adjusted to being with one of the most popular girls in highschool, so when he sees Steve at his girlfriend's house in her bedroom he loses it, he gets really angry at her bc he thought she was cheating on him or something, but Reader and Steve were just working together on some important project and due to that, they needed to spend time together. But Eddie didn't knew that, so he starts to ignore reader, stops giving her ride stop home, so Y/N goes to the trailer park to tell Eddie what's really going on, but Eddie doesn't seems interested in that, but reader convinces him to talk to her and she tells him about the project and Eddie realizes he's been acting like an idiot, but reader forgives him because he's her bf?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting this angst but happy ending fic 🫶🏻

Project?

Eddie knew dating one of the most popular girls in school was going to come with a lot of adjustments. He was at the very bottom of the social class, and now skyrocketed to the top in a flash.

He still couldn't believe he got Y/N to go out with him. She was a preppy cheerleader with a bright smile and an aura that everyone fell in love with. She had Eddie falling over his sneakers within seconds of smelling her perfume and the way her sweet voice said his name. He was shocked she knew who he was and gave him the time of the day.

Somehow throughout all the talking and flirting, they kissed and a relationship surfaced.

Four months passed and their relationship grew stronger by the day. Eddie has never felt more in love with someone, but also never felt more insecure within himself. He knew people adored his girlfriend and that many boys wished to be in his spot. If they were in the lower class like Eddie, he knew he already had one up on them. But the popular kids? He didn't have anything on them.

~~~

Eddie kept his jealousy to himself to not cause any fights or difficult discussions. But he was always so close to blowing at the seams.

"Hey Eds?" Y/N asked, she figured now was a horrible time to try to talk to him as he prepared for his campaign. It started in only ten minutes but she had a last minute plan she wanted him to be aware of.

"hm?" He mumbled, truthfully he wasn't listening. He heard his name and made a sound. His brain was too focused on the campaign ahead.

"Steve is coming over for a theater project. We have to do this love story. And I wanted to make sure you knew that it was strictly for class." She said, her stomach in nervous knots.

"All good. See you after!" He said, turning around to peck her lips before he went back to the campaign.

Well that went way better than she thought.

~~~

Eddie looked at his watch as he used the spare key to walk into Y/N's house. He knew her parents were away on vacation so he didn't have to worry about coming in unannounced.

He hummed a song in his head as he skipped up the stairs. Excitement in his bones to tell his girlfriend all about the campaign and its progress.

"...and when I look at you, I see the most beautiful girl in the world."

Eddie froze as he heard the sound of a male voice coming from his girlfriend's bedroom. The door was wide open and Eddie felt like he wanted to puke at the way Steve Harrington was holding his girlfriend's face in his hands. His heart broke more and more as she leaned into it and not away from it. They sat close on her bed, too cuddled for his liking.

"Are you saying you are in love with me?" She whispered, her eyes skimmed up and down Steve's face.

"Always have been." Steve whispered back, Eddie wasn't sure if they were about to kiss but he wasn't going to stand and watch.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Eddie screamed, within seconds he yanked Steve off the bed and threw him to the floor.

"WOAH DUDE!" Steve yelled, fright in his eyes.

"EDDIE! STOP!" Y/N screamed, she went to yank Eddie off but he refused to budge. He had Steve pinned to the floor, his fist aiming for his jaw.

"HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" Y/N screamed, grabbing Eddie as strongly as she could and shoved him off.

Eddie fell to the floor next to Steve, trying to ignore the sting he felt when she checked on Steve.

Eddie jumped up, anger in his body as a piercing noise rang through his ears.

"let me explain," Y/N sighed, she stood up calmly and that hit Eddie wrong. Why was she so chill about this? Why wasn't she crying and begging for forgiveness?

"I think I saw all that I needed to see. Enjoy Harrington, we are done." He sneered, he practically ran out of the room. She was quick to yell after him but he refused to stop. She followed him all the way out of the driveway, watching his van speed off at a law breaking speed.

~~~

A few days passed and Y/N couldn't get Eddie to speak one word to her. She called and called. She tried to talk to him in the halls but he'd walk away. She tried at lunch during a deal but he got up and left. He even stopped driving her home. She could have gotten a ride from Steve, but she knew that would make the situation worse. So she was stuck walking home.

The rain poured down as she walked out of the school building. No warning on the radar so she didn't have any good clothes or an umbrella. She growled to herself as she began to walk down the stairs.

Just great, she thought. Her boyfriend? Ex boyfriend? Was ignoring her, and it tore her apart. And now she had to walk home in the soaking rain.

She thought for a second, the trailer park was way closer than her house. She knew Eddie didn't want to see her, but maybe it was time she forced the boy to listen to her.

She walked through the mud of the trailer park and landed at Eddie's door. She knocked a few times, but stayed close to the door.

Eddie opened the door with a snarl but it lightly faded when he saw her shivering and holding herself warm.

"what in the hell are you doing?" He asked, slight concern in his voice. She allowed him to pull her inside.

"I'm here to talk to you!" She huffed, she removed her wet shoes and cringed at the wet clothes she was stuck in.

"in the rain?" He questioned.

"Look! Your house is way closer to school than mine and I didn't want to walk all the way home. Plus we needed to talk."

"Why didn't hairy boy Steve drive you?" Eddie said as he rolled his eyes.

"Because I knew that would hurt you, even if you have the wrong idea of what you saw, I wouldn't shove that in your face." She explained.

Eddie felt his hard shell slowly breaking. She chose to walk through the pouring rain to talk to him, and she chose to walk instead of asking Steve for a ride because she knew it would hurt him.

"I don't think I got the wrong idea!" Eddie scoffed, he turned around to march into his room.

Y/N quickly followed, "YOU CAN'T IGNORE ME!" she yelled after him. She figured he was going to slam his bedroom door after him, but he didn't.

Instead he grabbed a clean shirt and boxers from his laundry basket. All folded nicely so she knew Wayne recently did wash.

"Put these on so you don't catch a cold." He demanded. She thanked him and began to strip off her clothes. Eddie wasn't sure if it was his place to look or not, but he couldn't help himself. He'd admire her every day if he could.

"You do have the wrong idea, Steve and I were working on a project." She explained as she slipped Eddie's shirt over her bare chest.

"Is that slang for cheating?" Eddie scoffed. Y/N rolled her eyes and slipped on the boxers next. Throwing her soaked clothes on the floor.

"No, you idiot. It means we were working on a theater project, one that I told you about and even said it would be a romance. But apparently you chose not to listen." She defended herself, her arms crossed as she glared at him.

His defence was starting to break apart. He searched his brain for more questions.

"When? Because I don't recall such thing."

"Right before your campaign. You nodded along and kissed me goodbye. The same night you almost killed Steve." She explained.

"Oh really?"

"really!"

"oh really?"

"Really, Eddie."

"Well....I completely forgot about that." He said as he admitted defeat. He kinda remembered hearing her voice and the sound of Steve's name but nothing in between. He sat on his bed and hung his head in shame.

"We were acting. There's no one else. I love you. And even after you being a complete idiot." She said softly as she kneeled in front of him. She looked at his puppy eyes and softly kissed his cheek.

"Fuck, I'm sorry for losing my control like that. I'm sorry for not giving you a chance to explain. And I'm so sorry for not listening to you when you already explained everything to me. I acted like a dick." Eddie said, he truly felt guilty and embarrassed for how easy it all could have been avoided if he listened in the first place.

"I understand the fear and anger you had upon seeing what you did. But it's way better to communicate with me so we can fix it, yeah?"

"Definitely. If I ever see Steve making moves, I'll question before killing him." Eddie joked, he felt his stomach flip as she laughed into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest.

"Gee, thanks." She laughed.

"I love you too. Thank you for not giving up on me." He said into her hair.

He was granted a blessing, and he vowed to never ruin it.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

A gnawing sense of foreboding creeps up on Steve as they head to Eddie’s trailer, armed with weapons.

He tries to outrun it through action: ensuring he’s the first one to go through the Gate; jumping back and forth between The Upside Down and their world whenever someone forgets something, “It’s okay, I’ve got it!”; triple checking that the cables for Eddie’s amps are long enough; searching for the slightest thing than seizing upon it with an enthusiasm bordering on desperate, “Hey, we could use this, right? Better take it, just in case.”

But that only works for so long, and then Steve’s just standing in Eddie’s kitchen, the real one, staring blankly at the cupboards, all out of distractions.

Out of time.

He hears a grunt of exertion behind him, then an unsteady landing, a muffled curse. Eddie.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. Wanted to fit your aerobics routine in?”

He’s teasing, so light-hearted despite it all; Steve can’t stand it.

Keeps his back turned, gut twisting, opening the cupboards then slamming them shut, thump, thump. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He never has.

“Uh, so I was thinking,” Eddie continues, like Steve’s not doing anything weird, “that I could stretch out the, um, the song? My playing? Could buy you some more time, anyway.”

“Sure, great,” Steve says shortly.

He thinks—with a numb kind of calm—that he’s going to be sick.

He gets to the bathroom, tries to shut the door, but his grip slips on the handle.

Turns on the faucet, scoops cold water from his hands into his mouth, and it helps until it doesn’t, until he’s almost choking on it, and he’s been here before, the feeling familiar: a shadow looming over him, just waiting, waiting, and he knows it’ll pass, it always does, but he can’t stop thinking of Robin, it might not work out for us this time, and what if, what if—

He can hear Eddie knocking on the doorframe, just out of view—as if he’d seen Steve’s failed attempt at shutting the door and wanted to respect it.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Then Eddie mutters to himself, “Obviously not, get a fucking clue.”

Steve’s laugh is strangled but real. He wipes his mouth dry and shuts off the water.

“You don’t need to talk to a wall, dude,” he says.

And Eddie steps into view, leans against the open door. His eyes flicker across Steve’s face, and Steve doesn’t want to know what he’s noticed, so when Eddie opens his mouth hesitantly, he speaks first.

“We should—they’re gonna wonder where we are.”

Eddie pauses on the verge of speech; Steve watches him reevaluate whatever he was going to say.

“Well,” Eddie says, gesturing to the bathroom, matter-of-fact, “we could be peeing.”

Steve manages a chuckle. “You’re an idiot.”

Eddie grins like he’s saying yup, that’s me, like he’s won a prize.

Steve has seen him wear something close to that expression not even an hour ago: when the kids had started a line to use the bathroom in the RV, and Eddie had snorted, giggled with a childish kind of delight, “You—ha! You all look like you’re on a field trip,” before joining the line himself—calling out that he hoped their plan accounted for bathroom breaks because, “There’s no way I’m pissing in the alternate dimension,” and that had made Nancy break, laughing in a way Steve was certain he hadn’t heard since ‘83.

Eddie steps into the room and shuts the door quietly. Steve gets why: his breathing’s still all wrong, and if Dustin happened to see him, he doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.

“Sorry.” Steve sucks in a breath, tries to hold it. Loses it in an exhale that shudders at the edges. He speaks through the tail end of it, hoping that’s enough to conceal the sound, “Gimme, like, two minutes.”

“Make it ten,” Eddie says.

The way he says it makes it seem like it’s already a done deal; he must’ve spoken to Robin and Nancy before he tumbled through the Gate.

Despite himself, Steve feels a wave of relief: just for a little while, he has time; it overpowers the shame, leaves him sinking down to sit on the closed toilet seat.

He closes his eyes, just breathes. In… out… in…

He doesn’t realise that Eddie’s sitting down, too, until he hears the clunk of his boots, the rustle of clothing as he moves.

“Sorry,” Steve says again, and it annoyingly still comes out a little shaky, like he’s in the pool and he’s left it too long to snatch a breath. “You can go back, man, I’ll… I’ll be right there.”

He opens his eyes to see Eddie shaking his head, sat with his back against the bathtub.

“Stop apologising,” Eddie says, and then it’s as if the seriousness of it is too much for him, because he adds, with a self-deprecating smile that Steve hates, “I get it. You’re walking into the dragon’s lair, I’m just putting on a concert.”

“Don’t,” Steve says, and he doesn’t intend for the word to come out as sharp as it does, but that doesn’t change the fact that he means it. He means it.

Eddie’s smile fades.

“Don’t,” Steve repeats, quieter. Not quite an apology.

Slowly, he moves off the toilet seat, until he’s sat next to Eddie. There’s just enough space that they don’t need to touch, but Steve presses his shoulder against Eddie’s anyway, like he can somehow pass on everything he means through that alone.

Eddie sighs, presses back for just a second. “Don’t what?” he asks. He sounds tired all of a sudden.

“Don’t—don’t joke like that,” Steve says. “Like you’re not—” He swallows. “Like it’s not dangerous.”

There’s a pause. Eddie reaches across and puts a hand on Steve’s knee. Squeezes briefly and pulls back; already Steve finds that he misses the warmth of him.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Eddie says. There’s no joke in this, not a trace. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to Dustin.” Another smile. Gentle. “Swear on his mother.”

I’m not worried about that, Steve wants to say, but of course that’s not true; he’s tried hard not to look at Dustin directly ever since they arrived at the trailer, because his throat would start to close up alarmingly whenever his gaze lingered, and he knows the kid’s doing that whole semi-aloof teenager thing lately, but a part of him still wants to hold him tight and never let go.

It’s more that the shape of Steve’s worry is different to what he thinks Eddie’s imagining, covers more than Dustin’s safety alone—that the cold dread in his stomach brings him back to the tunnels in ‘84; to clutching Dustin, who was so small, Steve desperately trying to shield him with his own body, thinking the kid’s thirteen, only thirteen, this isn’t fucking fair; and that if this had to end one way, all he could do was pray that he’d be the only one to…

And Steve hadn’t wanted to die, but he was suddenly facing it anyway, and Christ, looking back at it, that was crazy, the whole damn thing was crazy, but it all made a twisted kind of sense at the time.

Eddie must spot that his train of thought’s gone down a dark alley because he knocks their knees together, but he doesn’t say anything. Just breathes, slumped against the bathtub; it’s probably the first time he’s been still—truly still—in a long while.

He must be exhausted, Steve thinks.

The gnawing feeling digs in, grips his heart.

“I can hear you thinking,” Eddie says quietly. “Listen, Steve, I know I’m new to, uh… all of this shit, but I’m on it, okay? Got it all up in here,” he taps the side of his head, “trust me—”

That’s not what—I trust you, of fucking course I do, but—

“—no deviations, and—”

“Plans change,” Steve says, and he hears himself, the calm decisiveness, just get ready; Dustin’s scream carrying across the junkyard, Steve, abort, abort! “Just… just promise me.”

“Promise you?” Eddie murmurs.

Steve feels the words on his tongue, the weight of them. Don’t do anything stupid. 

He swallows them down—afraid suddenly that if he really puts a name to it, it’s going to happen.

Fuck it, he’s exhausted too, and for a long moment he evades speaking: gingerly rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Feels his body heat, the swell of his breathing.

Eddie doesn’t tense up, just lets him rest there. 

If I kissed you, Steve thinks, drained, would you stay?

He doesn’t say it. Instead he lifts his head and asks, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Eddie chuckles. They’re still so close, Steve can feel his amused sigh.

“Tomorrow? I’ve not really… like, hopefully I’m not in jail. Anything else is a bonus.”

“We’ll fix it,” Steve says fiercely. “Trust me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Eddie says, grinning fondly, but he sounds genuine. “Shit, man, I think you could do anything.” He gestures outside. “Got the fucking dream team out there.”

“We solved a secret Russian code last summer.”

Eddie laughs. “Did you?” His eyes sparkle with mirth.

You’re beautiful.

“Gospel truth, I swear,” Steve says. He tries to stay light, but he makes the vow anyway. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

I have so much to tell you.

They stand up, and Steve doesn’t know who’s the first one to move—just that they both probably sensed the time dwindling.

And maybe it’s that, the inescapable thought that something’s coming to an end that does it. Steve doesn’t know for sure, just knows that his eyes are burning suddenly—mortifyingly—with tears. He looks up at the ceiling, hurriedly trying to push them back, but Eddie notices anyway.

“Steve, what is it?” he whispers, with a look of utter devastation.

Steve shakes his head. “Just being stupid,” he says, voice brittle, cutting himself off before he can say something ridiculous.

God, Eddie, let’s just stay here and grow old.

“You’re not stupid,” Eddie says, heartfelt—he stops just short of touching Steve; he clearly wants to help so badly, but he doesn’t know how.

Steve wants to tell him it’s fine. He doesn’t know either.

Maybe nothing can help this.

They leave for the Gate in unspoken agreement; at first Steve finds comfort in the sight of Eddie dangling on the rope, not quite in either world. Like every possibility is laid out before him.

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

But there’s a near imperceptible shift as Eddie keeps climbing, and Steve needs to look away, anything to avoid the pit in his stomach: the suspicion that the path’s already been chosen.

[dontexpectmuch]

i know how much you guys love this series, so i give you a new part. this one how ever will be;

comments/feedback is highly appreciated! please, im getting desperate :d

Habits Jude Bellingham might develop before you guys get into a relationship!

(a Lost in Madrid drabble!)

it is no secret that jude just loves to talk. he genuinely enjoys it so much to share any and every thought that goes through his mind, no matter how small it might be. he couldn’t tell when it started exactly, but suddenly he found himself on his way to you, a tired student that just wants to finish their work. as soon as he lifts his hand, knocks on your door and enters the room his lips start moving, talking so lively and fast that you need some time to register what is even happening.

“what do you mean ‘m talkin’ your ear off? you literally study literature and shit!” - “it’s more about reading, jude.” you sigh, wishing for any kind of help at this moment.

it is also nothing new for you to receive messages from jude during your quiet evenings when you decide to stay home. jude recently got into sending audio messages, you being his number one victim [forced] friend, whom he shared this new passion with. and most of the times he won’t even say anything important. he’ll just sing a new spanish song he has learned that past week. and he will sing. no matter how terrible it sounds and how much it makes your ears bleed. though, you also always listen to those audios, even though you know what the content will be.

“jude?” opening your door after hearing a desperate knock, you did not think that you would see your [not] friend standing there. he looks tiredly at you, clothes wrinkled and sandals on, “mum wanted me to bring you some cake she baked.” he gives you the tupperware filled with slices of cake, energy low. you feel your shoulders relax as you look up at him, “tell her i love her, please.” he just nods. and even though he always complains to you about how he is not some delivery boy, he can’t help but get excited at the thought of seeing your soft eyes when you receive food his mum made. it makes him feel giddy inside.

he makes you trip purposely whenever you walk in front of him, and then giggles and jogs away to join the others on the field when you send daggers his way with your glare.

he forces you to play two-touch, even though you have told him multiple times already that you cannot play really well. he quite literally forces you to become better, giving you tips while making you pass the ball against the wall back and forth. “i don’t want to do this anymore, jude.” - “well, that’s too damn bad.” his gaze serious as he corrects your form once more. “bitch.” you murmur under your breath, praying for him to just disappear somewhere and leave you alone.

“what?” you ask as you look up from your notes, eyes wide as you watch jude place a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll onto your desk. “i heard that you like sweets, or whatever.” he says, [desperately] wanting to look cool. your heart starts to pick up in speed when you look back and forth between jude and the things he just gave you, warmth spreading through your body. “thanks.”

“watch me.” he smirks at you, who looks quite annoyed tired at him. “i’ll hit this first time.” - “like you did to me on my first day here?” - “dude! i told you not to talk about it anymore, ‘t’s a sensitive topic for me, ‘kay?”

heartfelt conversations between you are not as rare as one might think. whenever jude comes to you to talk your ear off while toi work on your research, you sometimes tell him about your own stuff. that leads to various topics you two discuss, which also results in sharing some intimate thoughts. it makes jude, who usually looks so confident and well put together, look more human, like a 20 year old guy who also learns something new every day.

—————————————

surpriseee! hope you like it!! :)