#i just need a little excuse that has meaning to me ? and unfortunately there is nothing out here

[mushroom-for-art]

Part 3 of Shadow au, Syns making progress! I think! He thinks! We don't know! Also added some extra stuff to this one because I was inspired by the height chart art using Darkness' extra sharp design so woo! Enjoy your boy @seasidemew! This part was actually meant to be bit heavier but lmao I've changed the order of my canon it's fine lmao so you get another relaxing one

Conversations and Progress

The dark hued two delicately landed in the middle of the makeshift camp, the grass was soft and cool under her feet as she glanced wearily to the side, her pink toned brother snuffled in his sleep stretching wiggling made a mrrp and rolling over with an exhale returning to lightly snoring as she let out a faint sigh of relief. He didn't actually know her yet, they'd never met and frankly after what happened she intended to keep it that way.

The orange hued two lifted her head from where she sat leaning against a tree looking at her sister with dark bags forming under her eyes. She stood slowly motioning with her head and stepped out of the campsite walking a small distance before stopping and waiting for her taller sister.

"What has he asked then?" May hugged herself as she asked the question, thumbs rubbing her arms softly in self soothing motions as she turned her head to glance at her sibling.

"This and that, he still wonders how and why we know each other and he's suggested his own theories he thinks we have a truce or blackmail on each other. And he's been asking what we've been saying about him naturally."

The orange one hummed uncomfortably squeezing her own arms, "and are you still being safe? He's not threatened you or followed you back to your nest?"

"No, not yet, he's moved as if to join me on the flight home but I told him I needed my beauty sleep and my privacy and I didn't like a man that disrespected either of those." She shrugged casually, "it seemed to work."

"Citrine… you really must be more careful..if he, I don't know he might turn if he thinks you're just screwing with him or get real nasty if he gets bored of the games."

"I know.." Her tail swayed, "I know. I'm being careful don't worry so much May, you should be thinking of yourself more I mean look at those bags. Are they designer? You could steal a purse with them when did you last get a proper nights' sleep?"

May looked away squeezing herself, "not since I thought I saw him that night… not properly since finding out I was right.." She shook her head looking back at her sister, "But it's my JOB to worry about you and to worry about Matt. I'm the oldest, you're my baby sister and he's my baby brother. I can't just sleep peacefully knowing he might lurk into camp and slaughter either of you."

Darkness grimaced to herself "May.." She felt Mays hands grab her face reaching up with some difficulty for the height difference.

"No, don't you May me, you're family okay? And I care about you a lot so I'm gonna worry."

She sighed, moving to take her sisters' wrists, planning to move her hands off her face, "you're too forgiving all things considering with me you know."

"You've grown and you've changed, I know you feel bad over what happened because you push away any kindness thinking you don't deserve it, but you do. I mean you keep checking in on us and watching that, that guy for us even though he could be a threat to you. AND hush hush ehp not finished close your mouth, and you're trying to change your identity claiming a new name moving on from being Darkness, and I'm really proud of you for it. Maybe I am too forgiving but I think you've earned the forgiveness."

Darkness hummed awkwardly looking away with her eyes, "I mean the whole experimental new names thing is personal because the name was dumb not some, spiritual metaphor." She moved Mays hands to emphasis the denial of self flinching and pulling her hands away when May winced.

"Ah-!" May looked at the bloody little marks on her wrist and frowned before grabbing one of her sisters hands who tried to retract them pulling it close to examine, she squeezed one of her fingers hearing her hiss in discomfort as a jagged crystal protruded from her paw like a claw.

"What did you do…" her voice was soft and deeply concerned as she examined Darkness' hand noticing the spikes protruding from her wrist also, "Citrine…"

"Dont…that names too nice for me.." She sighed softly, "I saw him. During the day fighting a Mega evolved Aggron. It didnt stand a chance… I got, scared, and panicked so I added more to myself to be stronger so if he turns nasty, if I have to fight him it'll give me the edge and extra strength."

"That must hurt.."

"It's not so bad, rather ache now and win then avoid needed pain and lose."

"I don't agree with you doing this to yourself, but it's done now.. If it comes to it you know I'd fight by your side against him."

"You're such a mother sometimes." Darkness chuckled softly, "I suppose I like the sound of those odds." May gently released her hand.

"Just please don't do anything else like this to yourself okay? Cause I don't want it turning into a self punishment thing. I know you because you're like me, you're from me, I am your mother." Though her tone was stern it did end in a playful way as she offered her sister a comforting smile.

"Hm, fine sure whatever mom," Darkness laughed softly, "I should go entertain him then for a bit, don't want him getting too bored or jealous." Moving to step away.

"Please stay." She paused at Mays request, "I, want Matt to meet you and I just, I have a bad feeling tonight. I don't know I feel bad letting you leave to go to him. I worry you won't come back. So, stay? You can have my bed." Darkness swished her tail smiling softly to her sister, usually she'd argue about having to go but to some degree she'd been wanting to meet her little brother too even if she was anxious with his initial negative experience with shadow mewtwo. "and I might actually sleep better tonight with you both nearby and safe!"

"aah fine I guess you've convinced me," smiling casually she watched Mays shoulders drop in relief as they moved to walk back to the camp.

"I think Matt will love you once he gets to know you realize who you are...and I think you're wrong Citrine is a nice name for you you deserve a good name and I think you should get a name that's pretty. Like Crystal or Jewel or uh Diamond or Moonstone." Darkness snorted softly.

"I'm noticing a theme here," smirking as May floundered.

"Well you said Citrine was a gem so like eehh was trying to think of other gem things I thought you liked it for that?"

"Well, it's like a yellow gem and it's kinda pretty..though it was his suggestion before he swapped to Citrus cause I got the two confused."

"Ah yes orange scented," May lightly bumped into her sister playful as they walked into camp, "I mean you're a pretty gem, it's up to you what you choose."

Darkness hesitated for a moment, "I, was thinking of maybe looking at M starting names…since like you and Matt..but that's probably intruding.."

May smiled at her comfortingly, "Hey that'd be nice, or if you pick an A starting name we could become M A M." Darkness lightly hit her face shoving her away as she laughed.

"Never mind I'm never taking suggestions from you ever," but she laughed fondly as May chuckled in mischievous motioning for Darkness to take her bed, a few leaves carefully arranged on the ground for padding against the dirt just as cushioning the best they could do considering they were out in the wilds with no equipment.

Darkness moved to sit but pointed at her in play threat, "you better sleep." With May putting her hands up in surrender before moving to find a spot to sit to sleep as Darkness awkwardly tried to get comfortable. She missed her cot back at her nest but she appreciated the gesture and that her sister wanted her there. She stretched out and then curled up using the middle of her tail as a cushion. May found a tree trunk to lean against, she looked up past the treeline scanning the sky for a moment before taking off her glasses carefully placing them down on the grass besides her before as she brought her knees to her chin crossing her arms over her knees and nuzzling her cheek into her arm crook to sleep.

From far away higher up, Syns tail swayed and thumped aggressively into the tree trunk of the branch he was sitting on. He scanned over the area where the pair had made camp watching the other shadow pokemon join them as his brows furrowed in frustration and confusion, why was she staying there?? What about their chats? His tail thumped the tree trunk in frustration again.

He moved to stand and stepped casually from the branch he was stood on to fly over, if she wasn't going to come see him he'd go see her. He felt the air shifting as he grew closer, a subtle but tangible building of energy as he approached causing him to slow but not stop. The air shimmered and he stopped before he flew right into the shining white dome that materialized feeling the sharp gust caused by its sudden creation. He watched it glisten a shine of white before fading and wondered what that was, he reached a hand out with practiced caution feeling his fingers collide with something solid the white shimmer reappearing where his fingers made impact.

"A protect huh…" He pulled his hand back and the glow faded but as he observed where the dome had originally formed there was a slight haze to indicate it's existence that it wasn't gone just simply blending into its surroundings. He started to wonder how a protect this large and powerful could form as his eyes glanced to the campsite, Mays whited over eyes stared forward without seeing glowing with psychic energy. He should've guessed.

Judging by the size and strength of the protect, he theoretically COULD smash his way through it if he really went for it but watching her eyes roll back and her body slump to the ground gave him the impression it was a subconscious move and breaking it might actually wake her. Besides, there's no way it'd last forever. He'd wager by morning it would've weakened or faded. Sighing just a little annoyed he moved to go find a new perch to watch them more closely he supposed.

——————————————————————

Syn grumbled as rays of light beamed offendingly right into his face, he squinted at the sun with a faint growl lazily moving his hand to shove a cloud over it for five more minutes as he wiggled his shoulders to readjust himself against his tree trunk. As he tried to return to his sleep his brain became aware of the lack of psychic tension that had been present the night before practically dragging his thoughts around to force him into an awake state to which he groaned softly squinting to the side of camp, he blinked his tired eye momentarily mistaking glistening droplets of water as the haze around the protect before realizing it was in fact gone.

Slightly unhappily he sat up to properly peer at the campsite, it was early first light and they were all still asleep. He could've easily approached but also he didn't want to trigger another protect, he'd wait till May was at least conscious deducing she'd be less likely to do anything spontaneously powerful with an awake brain.

The Pinky one, Matt or something had managed to roll off of his makeshift leaf bed in the night and had contorted himself into an obscure position with his head touching his lower back nearly, legs stretched backwards and tail wrapping around the tip resting near his chest. Citrine meanwhile had curled herself up quite small into a ball much like other feline creatures. And May was still flopped out on the floor, chin in the grass body twisted so her legs were still up as she was sat which would probably put an ache on her spine.

The sun won its battle against Syns block cloud and the sunlight gently warmed the leaves and grace dancing over the sleeping lot in the campsite with only May grumbling her legs finally falling in a flop as she rolled over to hide her face from the sun before clumsily sitting up and promptly bashing the side of her head into the tree trunk she'd originally been leant again with clearly no spacial awareness. Syn did a mock flinch to himself quietly chuckling as she quietly groaned rubbing the side of her head with a soft "ow" as she slowly got to her feet grabbing her glasses and waddling off to the side.

Syn contemplated walking into the camp with her gone, maybe he could grab her brother as a bargaining chip or drag Citrus away to find out why she abandoned their usual talks but he knew that wouldn't really help him get closer to his goal. He couldn't force May or Citrus to reveal their secrets, couldn't intimidate or threaten them into wanting to join him because they could attack him and would likely reject him. He had to play it calm and he had to be approachable, he was a charming guy he just had to let May see that like how Citrus did.

He sighed softly collecting himself with an inhale and exhale running a hand past his eye to clear away any sleep and smoothly feeling up his horn, he was quite the specimen after all he's sure they could both see that. He moved casually to glide along to see where May went, he didn't want Citrus mad that he ruined her beauty sleep after all.

He was glad by the lack of energy in the air it meant his theory was correct and it was subconscious otherwise another barrier would have appeared as he passed her siblings. He found her knelt by a small stream, her glasses carefully placed down beside her, her head was currently under the water and making bubbles with her head slightly shaking before she sat up and breathed and shook her head again to shake the water off. She squinted past the water on her eyelashes making opening her eyes and seeing kind of difficult. In her side vision she could make out a darker colored shape before she brought her hands up to rub her eyes to clean the sleep away and to clean her face from the grass and mud stuck under her chin.

"G'morning sis," She yawned past her hands cleaning her face, "sleep well?"

"Oh," the male voice that reached her ears caused her to stiffen in terror, "so she's your sister?" Mays head whipped around as she shoved herself quickly against the floor to half stumble and half throw herself backwards scrambling away from Syn as he drank water collected in his hand from the stream. He turned to look at her as she fell into a sit at a distance from him, he could see her eyes were wide and breathing rapidly.

He couldn't deny feeling a bit disappointed at the reaction, the fight had been a while ago surely she would've gotten over it by now and besides he knows Citrus and her have been talking so he didn't get what the reaction was for. He moved his hand to pick up her forgotten glasses holding them out to her.

"I think you need these, right?" Her eyes were trained on him watching his every move down to the flick of his tail. "Look I don't want to fight, I'm not here to hurt you I just wanna talk." He offered one of his dashing smiles and the sight of his sharp teeth sent a feeling of dread through her.

He could see she was thinking locked in place unable to decide what to do, he in this moment kind of held the glasses over her because she needed them so she couldn't flee safely without them but he could see she didn't feel comfortable staying either. It was frustrating he was hoping for a warmer reception but he kept his face steady letting his brows fall in a sad kind of way rather than displaying frustration, acting sad instead of showing his real emotions.

"I'm sorry, I must have really hurt you huh?" He copied the tone of someone genuinely apologetic quite well, he didn't necessarily feel bad about the fight or aftermath. She was a rival, a meal at the time. How was he to know she was interesting? He lifted the glasses with his purple psychic energy and moved them over to her as a peace offering.

She hesitated before slowly taking them and he watched her at least pause to put them on as she looked at him again rather than immediately bolting. He kept the sad look on his face lowering his head as if ducking in apology or embarrassment as she watched him uncertainly.

She didn't move for a moment watching him as he moved to look at the water as if he was unable to bear looking at her, internally impressed with his acting skills. He heard her quietly shifting but it didn't sound like she was standing, she adjusted from her terrified position into a slightly more comfortable sit making sure it was a position she could easily move from. She watched him blinking a bit in confusion as she observed him.

Darkness had said he was much more civilized when she spoke with him, flirty even but not looking for a fight and not aggressive. She'd assumed he only acted that way because Darkness had a crystal too, but he was acting kind of normal now.

"Uhm," May uncertainly coughed into her hand to clear her throat, "I'm, gonna, go…" She moved to awkwardly stand saying, "enjoy the, water?" then cringing to herself as she turned to return to camp awkwardly. He turned his head to look at her watching her go, part of him having wanted her to stay to be fascinated by his good behavior to want to know all she could and he was a bit annoyed she didn't seem to care. He did also know it was to some degree a win, had she attacked him it meant she still saw him as a threat so clearly she must be somewhat intrigued by him.

"May?" She froze a bit at him knowing her name it felt so strange coming from his mouth uncertainly turning her head to look at him, "I am genuinely sorry for what I did, I'm trying to do better with this," he touched his shoulder around the crystal feigning pain and sorrow, "so I hope I can make it up to you and your brother someday." He gave her a smile that seemed genuine and she almost found herself fully believing him. With a shy smile she nodded unsure how to answer that at all and walked away to camp.

When her back turned Syns smile fell into a disappointed scowl, he put his head in his hand and he wrinkled his nose in frustration knowing no more than he did for trying this. He only hoped that he'd planted the seeds and he'd be able to reap the harvest later, if she did believe him then he could start to worm his way in. If her and Citrus were sisters and had a rocky past he's sure he could work it out with her too.

May walked back to camp feeling confused and anxious, her heart was still thumping despite nothing having happened but she knows it could've. And yet he seemed quite sad… She couldn't deny she did in fact feel a bit bad just abandoning him there on his own lonesome but what could she even say to him? And how could she justify just sitting being friendly with the Pokemon who tried to murder her brother? She sighed a bit to herself and stopped, she should've maybe at least asked his name. Should she go back? Would it be weird to? If he was sorry and did want to fix it wouldn't it be polite to be able to address him by name? Mutually extend the opportunity of healing? If he's just 'that Mewtwo who tried to kill Matt' in her mind isn't that a bit cruel?

She groaned to herself debating and awkwardly walking back, he was still sat by the water and he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, after some more mental debating she cleared her throat making him quickly look towards her, seeming a bit startled which in turn startled her.

"I, uh, sorry, I… never got your name?" She felt awkward just saying it she should've just kept walking. He looked at her and she could only imagine how much he was judging her, meanwhile Syn had to hide the want to break into a victorious smirk, she wanted to know his name and there's no way she'd want to know that if she wasn't thinking about him.

"Syn, you can call me Syn." He smiled at her giving another dashing smile and it weirdly didn't fill her with dread this time, she smiled a bit nodding at him in understanding.

"Syn..well, um nice to officially meet you, you already know my name but uh I'm May." She felt awkward as he looked at her smiling, but it felt a bit weird not introducing herself back. She thought about what to say next until she heard Matt yelling in the distance.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU WHERE'S MAY?!"

She flinched a bit at the volume with an oof, "I gotta go do uh damage control, bye!" She moved to run back to camp, stopping to lean back into view, "Syn." giving a wave before sprinting back to explain everything.

Syns' tail swayed up and down, content with the turn of events. He grinned satisfied to himself as he stood up thinking that May was indeed very interested in him. He'd be back later though it seemed like the pair was becoming a trio and the change in chemistry may cause difficulties. But, he counted this as a win overall. Maybe Citrus had put in a good word for him.

[35gofbeansprouts]

literally so desperate for pokemon to be real. do you know how fit i would be

[kiwi-bitchez]

The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 

Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise

Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!

A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”

“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.

“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”

“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”

“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”

“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 

This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.

“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.

“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”

You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 

There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 

“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”

You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.

When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.

After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.

It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 

“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.

Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 

“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”

She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 

“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 

You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 

“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”

“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 

“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”

“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 

“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”

“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 

“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 

“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 

“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.

“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”

“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 

Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 

“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”

He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 

“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”

The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 

Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.

“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 

When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”

Still no reply.

“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 

Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”

“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”

“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 

“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.

“No.”

“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.

“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”

“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 

“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 

“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”

“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 

“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”

“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 

“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.

This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 

After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 

After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.

As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 

Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 

“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”

It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.

“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 

“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 

On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 

“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”

He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 

You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 

“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 

“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”

“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”

“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.

Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  

“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  

“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”

“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 

“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 

“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”

“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 

“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 

You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 

“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 

He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 

Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 

��When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 

“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 

“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 

“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”

“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”

Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 

Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 

“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”

“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 

“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”

“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 

“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”

“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”

“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 

“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”

“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”

“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”

“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 

The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 

“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”

“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”

“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”

“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”

He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 

“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 

“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 

“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”

‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.

You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.

“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 

He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 

He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.

As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 

“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”

The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 

Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.

Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 

He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 

As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 

“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 

He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 

You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 

The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 

You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 

Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 

But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 

You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 

“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  

After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 

“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 

“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 

You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?

On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 

He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 

Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 

You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 

“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 

“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 

The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 

“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.

“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”

He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”

To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.

“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”

Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 

After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 

Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 

You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.

Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 

As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 

“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 

“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.

“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.

“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 

“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 

Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 

“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”

Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 

“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.

Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 

You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 

“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.

“From bugs?”

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”

You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.

“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.

“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 

“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”

You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.

After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 

It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 

The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 

Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 

Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.

What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 

“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 

You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.

“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 

“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.

Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.

Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 

Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 

He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 

While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”

“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”

He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 

“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 

“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”

Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”

As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.

Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.

“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”

“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”

“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”

“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.

“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”

“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”

You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 

The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 

A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 

It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 

Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.

Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 

“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 

There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 

“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.

“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”

You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 

Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.

“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.

Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“

“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.

Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.

He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”

“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 

“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”

“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 

“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”

You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 

“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”

“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.

“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 

He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 

“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 

As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 

“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 

“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.

You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.

Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 

“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 

“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.

“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 

“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”

“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.

“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”

Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 

“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 

“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 

“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”

Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 

It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 

“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 

“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”

Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 

“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 

He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.

Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.

He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 

“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.

“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.

You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.

He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 

Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”

Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 

“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 

The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”

“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”

“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 

“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”

“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”

If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 

The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.

He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 

“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”

Jackpot. 

A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 

“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 

Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 

He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 

“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”

Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 

“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”

The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 

“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.

“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”

You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 

His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 

Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 

If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”

He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 

Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 

“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 

“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”

“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”

You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 

As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 

“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 

“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”

You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 

“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 

You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.

He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.

The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 

Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.

You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 

And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.

“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 

You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.

Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 

Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 

He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 

You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.

You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 

All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 

The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.

“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 

After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 

You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.

Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 

“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.

He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 

“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”

Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 

“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 

“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”

You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 

Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 

“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”

The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.

Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 

“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 

Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 

You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 

In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 

“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 

You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 

Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 

“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 

It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 

Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 

“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 

“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 

In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 

The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 

He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.

Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 

His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 

Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 

He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 

He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 

Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 

“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.

“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 

His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 

“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”

The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 

“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 

Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 

Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 

Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.

“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”

Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 

“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 

A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 

As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 

He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 

When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 

“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 

“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 

“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 

“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.

“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 

“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.

He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 

“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 

“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 

You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.

“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 

“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 

You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 

Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.

“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 

“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 

He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 

“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 

And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.

His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 

When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 

“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”

With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 

The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 

Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 

He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.

Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”

Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 

“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 

“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”

His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 

The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 

When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 

His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.

Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 

You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 

You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 

You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call. 

It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 

After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 

Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 

“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 

“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”

“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”

“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 

You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 

“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 

“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”

Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 

“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”

“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“

You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”

“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”

“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”

“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 

Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 

“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 

You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 

“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”

You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 

Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 

Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.

At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.

And there he is.

In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.

"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.

"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."

You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.

"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."

He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.

"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."

You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.

"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.

"And I owe you a few dates, for real."

As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.

"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.

"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.

You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.

[beenbaanbuun]

tits, ass or thighs w/ ateez

words - 🤠

genre - fluff/smut

warnings - groping (consensual), size kink (yunho), manhandling (yunho, kind of yeosang), kind of somnophilia in sans, mingi is always eating pussy in my fics…, spanking (mingi and wooyoung), i think that’s the major ones…

kim hongjoong - ass

so my theory is that hongjoong likes having you on his lap; more specifically, straddling his lap. whether that’s during sex, cuddling, or just to chat, he wants you sitting on his thighs, staring into his eyes. of course, half of it is about the intimacy of it all - face to face, eye to eye, all that good stuff - but he can’t deny that he really does love the way it gives him the perfect opportunity to grope your ass.

his arms are always wrapped around you to hold you close, and your ass is just the natural place his hands fall. you can’t expect him not to cop a feel when his hands are already there in prime position. besides, your ass is just too nice not to squeeze; it gives his hands something to do whilst you’re telling him about your day… and that’s not even mentioning the way it makes you squirm whenever he’s balls deep inside of you, using his grip on your ass to guide your pace as you ride him into oblivion.

park seonghwa - tits

seonghwa is a gentleman except when it comes to your tits. he is always just touching them, giving some sort of shitty excuse as to why he needs to. ‘oh, i slammed the breaks too hard and didn’t want the seatbelt to hurt you,’ he says as he slowly draws his hand away from where it was just sitting on your breast. ‘i meant to touch your shoulder but i missed,’ he smiles prettily as if that excuses the way he’s pawing at your tit. the way he sees it, he shouldn’t even need an excuse to feel you up at any given moment in time…

because you can’t really blame him for wanting to touch them constantly. he likes soft, cute things are your tits? well they just happen to be the softest, cutest things around! sue him if they’re like magnets for his hands! he can’t help the way they draw them in now can he?

jeong yunho - thighs

BIG HAND ON THIGH I REPEAT BIG HAND… ON THIGH!!!! like when he’s driving you places?!?!? or even when you’re just watching a movie together?!?!?!? UGH!!! it just makes you feel so small and protected and the thought of you being so small and fragile for him? that shit makes yunho weak at the knees. it’s even better when he gets to squeeze your thighs and feel your plush flesh under his fingertips. he likes the way it never fails to make you wriggle in your seat.

and i’m sorry but it all comes down to the fact that this man definitely has a size kink and whatever he can do to make himself feel like the big strong knight and you his tiny little damsel in distress, he will do it. unfortunately that means that he literally always has his hand on your thigh just to show you how big he is compared to you, and just how easy it would be to manhandle you into any position he wants…

kang yeosang - thighs

i think i’ve spoken about yeosang being a dom enough on this account, so i won’t go into any more details about that. all i will say is that he loves pinning you by your thighs. pretty boy is so strong and he just adores the way you helplessly squirm as he holds you to the bed by them. he will literally torture you for hours with his face between your legs, but you can’t even buck your hips with how tightly he’s holding onto your shaking thighs.

and don’t get me started on the bruises he leaves in his wake. he’s spend hours kissing and admiring the fingerprints left on your skin the day after, trailing over them with his fingers and his tongue until he has you squirming and begging for him to give you more. there’s rarely a day goes by where you don’t have tiny purple marks painted up and down your thighs…

choi san - tits

san likes to cuddle something when he sleeps, right? since sharing your bed, that something has become you. he likes his arms wrapped around your waist and his head pressed to your chest, your soft flesh acting as the fluffiest pillow in the world. it’s even better when you play with his hair, sending him into a sleepy daze in minutes.

and it’s not his fault when you wake up to him rutting against your thigh, face pressed between your tits as he incoherently mumbles about how gorgeous you are. actually, it’s yours for sleeping without a bra on. how is san supposed to not be horny when he wakes up every morning to your pretty nipples poking through his tshirt that he let you sleep in. it’s only right that you help him fix his problem, right? that you let him drool over your boobs as he dribbles cum onto your thighs?

song mingi - ass

with the amount i talk about mingi being a slut for eating pussy, i think we all saw this coming, right? like your ass is just the perfect place to hold onto while he tucks in to his favourite meal. he especially likes it when you’re sitting on his face and he can just grab it, using it as leverage to pin you to his face when you start to become oversensitive from his rough licks.

and don’t even get me started about how feral he gets when he eats your pussy from the back. literally eyes closed, moaning like a whore as he licks at you from behind. loves to just grope you while he eats you out, pinching and smacking it every few seconds because he adores the way it makes your pussy clench and squeeze out even more of your precious fluids. he’s literally a bitch in heat when it comes to eating pussy, you will never convince me otherwise

jung wooyoung - ass

he’s a smacker… that’s all i have to say. any time, anywhere, you always need to be on guard because you never know when wooyoung is going to come up behind you and just smack! he likes the way it makes you squeal and blush, thinking you look the most adorable when you’re pouting and scolding him for spanking your ass in the middle of a grocery store! most of the time he just gives you a cheeky smirk before promising - with his fingers crossed, of course - that he won’t do it again.

and he can’t lie, he likes the way it feels in his hand too. the way it jiggles from the impact hypnotises him, and it’s always a struggle for him to pull himself away and not do just one more. but it’s fine, because you never complain when he has you face down ass up in bed, hands raining down spank after spank on your pretty cheeks until they’re red from the impact.

choi jongho - tits

i’m 90% certain that if you’re in a relationship with this man, your tits will become his new favourite thing. whether that’s to look at, to play with, to suck on, it doesn’t really matter. what does matter is they’re his and he will never leave them alone. like he always insists that you wear no bra at home so he can see your pretty nipples; even better if you’re wearing a thin white tshirt too so he can see the colour of them through the material.

the no bra thing also helps when he has his hand slung over your shoulder and he’s pawing at one of them like it’s a stress ball. he won’t even be paying attention to you, yet his hand will be rhythmically palming your tit, his finger flicking against the nipple every so often. and then after all that, when you inevitably ask him to deal with the mess he’s made between your thighs, he’ll have the audacity to act like it’s your fault that you’re horny! he’ll still fuck you though, and you’ll still end up with a nice selection of new purple hickeys across your chest…

[pomefioredove]

hello hello! i see that the headcanon requests are open, so i have arrived 🐺🐺 i'd like to request the housewardens + chenya, neige and ortho with a reader that's mute! i feel like this would be an interesting thing to go off of. feel free to write it as something reader gained after a certain event, or as an illness that they were born with. platonic would be great, but i think romantic would be absolutely adorable too (minus ortho obviously) so go wild, do whatever you want >:) if this is fine for you to write of course!! love your writing, youre my favourite blog on tumblr hehe (runs away)

thank you so much!! and ofc ofc. I'm writing this based off my own experiences with being semiverbal so if I get something wrong,,, that's on me 😔

summary: nonspeaking reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, che'nya, leona, azul, kalim, vil, neige, idia, ortho (platonic), malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I think Riddle is more adaptive than others give him credit for

it's not like there's any rule about not speaking

(and if there was, he would make an exception for you. he's not completely unreasonable)

I can see him learning sign language with you

and if that's not your thing, he'll figure something else out

he's a fast learner, after all

and he wants to make you comfortable, too. not that he'd ever outright admit it...

(obvious favoritism)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Che'nya is always quick on his feet

or... on air?

anyway

that means that he isn't one to let the absence of conversation stop him from his usual mischief

and he does love charades...

it's almost like he can read your thoughts. or your... hands? expressions?

whenever someone is giving you a hard time, they miiight just end up talking back to a floating head

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona actually never really... brings it up

before he had the full story, he just figured you were shy around him

(which went straight to his head, of course)

so he was already used to it when he found out it's not something you can control

and... he treats you no different for it

he knows you're not stupid or rude just because you're not yapping all the time

and if anyone else gave you a hard time about it... they'd be answering to him

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no worries with Azul

I mean, the guy can really do it all

sign language, pen and paper, text-to-speech, body language...

he's rather adaptable, and, trust me, being unable or unwilling to speak won't stop him

the offer to give you the voice of a beautiful singer is still on the table... but he can't blame you for not taking the deal

of course

in the meantime, you can come to him for anything and he'll help you out

on the house <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim's heart is in the right place

is he disappointed you won't be able to talk and sing and cheer with him? a little

you're used to the disappointment, unfortunately

but he doesn't give up so easily

or... at all

no singing? he's handing you an instrument

no talking? no problem, he knows you're still listening!

no hummin, shouting, cheering? he can make enough noise for the both of you

he makes sure you're included in everything

very sweet

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil has high expectations, but he isn't unreasonable

if you can't talk, you can't talk, and that's final

that doesn't excuse you from everything else in his strict regimen, though

what may be a weakness to others is a strength to him

you can improve yourself tenfold by focusing on what you can do rather than what you can't

writing, dancing, music...

however you choose to express yourself, he's very supportive

much like Kalim, he includes you in every conversation, every decision, every yes/no question

he's pretty great

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Neige! Neige is a sweetie

I like to think of Neige as someone who's actually quite timid in person, despite his career

it's probably your quietness that draws him to you in the first place

he is so very supportive

he's the kind of introvert to suddenly become extroverted when someone needs help

"excuse me, they asked for no pickles" type of guy

he'll hold your hand through everything if you need it, and remain by your side if you don't

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho and Idia are probably the best people to have on your side

Idia just feels so much more... comfortable around you, since he struggles with speaking, himself

he'll let you use his tablet if you need it to speak

...and then he'll get you one of your own, so he doesn't have a heart attack when you accidentally switch tabs

he'll even program a custom voice or two for you

Ortho is a walking translator for you

with a database full of information on body language and expression, he can determine your emotional state in a single glance

he's happy to help in any way he can, of course!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

at some point, Malleus needs a shirt that says "#1 Prefect Defender"

you haven't said a single word to him but if anything happened to you he would curse everyone in this room and then himself

(he means well, I promise)

he's never minded, nor questioned your silence

certain fae communicate through lights or movement rather than sound, so it isn't even anything strange to him

you fit right in at Diasomnia

and you're welcome to stay here for as long as you please

(hint hint)

[midnight-pluto]

SAY ON SKIBIDI — damian w.

After an unfortunate incident involving a ball and your kneecap, you get sent to the nurses office with Damian in tow. In the isolation of the office, Damian tells you something that makes your mind short-circuit, and proceed to make him say that he means it.

contains: bsf!damian x reader, fluff, brainrot, swearing, humor, they're in middle school — both 14 years old, mention/description of injury, reader doesn't know damian is robin, short fic

a/n: this is the most brainrot thing i've ever written but i found this idea hilarious so i had to write it out

P.E. IS A stupid elective to have is what you've concluded. Sure, you've always thought that but you were normally able to sit out of most of the activities since all they cared about was the no phones rule and sometimes cared about what shoes you wore. You were content with that though.

You could spend the whole hour yapping Damian's ear off and he never objected to it all throughout the countless amount of times you did so. That was something you were thankful for since he was surprisingly a fantastic listener despite himself also being a yapper.

However, the one time a game has mandatory participation in P.E. is the one time you get hurt. What was the game? Dodgeball, because of course it had to be dodgeball along with the kids with the super good aim for some reason all being on the other team. Minus Damian, mainly because you begged him to stay.

Was it a good call though? Not sure since he'd end up by your side regardless of what team he was on, in the nurses office.

"What was the name of the boy who hit you?" the nurse asked, walking through the door, ice pack in hand.

"Dunno," you simply responded, gently taking the ice pack from her. Nodding your head in thanks, you wince a little at the contact with your ugly purple bruise and the sheer coldness of the ice pack.

"You both can stay here for the rest of the period which will end in," she cranes her head to look at the clock behind her, "roughly fifteen minutes or so."

"Thanks."

"Thank you," Damian nods.

The nurse smiles in response. "It's not a problem," she says before she exits through the door and closes it halfway.

Once he could no longer hear the soft sound of her shoes stepping on the cold tile floor, Damian lets out a sigh. "That dude really needs to watch how hard he's throwing things."

"I know," you scoff, gently pressing down on your bruise with the ice pack, "But it's whatever I guess, he didn't intend on seriously hurting me anyways. I don't think so at least."

He merely tsk's at your statement. "How can you be so nonchalant when someone hurts you? Intentionally or not, how can you act so normal about it?"

You tilt your head in confusion at his words, "What do you mean by that?"

He just looks at you for a moment before shaking his head. "Never mind, I just don't want to see you hurt. Physically or emotionally."

"Is... Is this your way of saying you care about me?"

"Do you really need me to say it out loud for you?" Damian sighed.

"Yes," you eagerly nodded, a smug smile on your face as Damian ran a hand through his black strands; head hanging low as he slouched against the wall he was leaning on.

"I care about you," he lifted his head to look you in your eyes.

Your smile soon turned into a wide-toothed grin at his words when a brilliant idea popped into your head. "Say on skibidi."

"Excuse me?"

"Say on skibidi. Say on skibidi that you care about me," you repeated.

"The brainrot has gotten the better of you, you're going to need more than just that ice pack," he deadpans.

"Wow! That's so mean," you gasp, lifting the ice pack slightly to glance at the bruise which has now turned into an icky yellow color. "C'mon, just say it."

"This is shameful," he says exasperatedly. "On skibidi," he visibly shudders, spitting out the word as if it were profanity, "I care about you." His head was turned away, facing the nurse's bathroom door instead of you with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Yipee!" you laugh at his facial expression when he turned his head back towards you, Damian's lips curled into a frown as well as an eyebrow twitching in annoyance. "See? It wasn't that hard to say."

"My pride has taken irreparable damage, I will never recover from this experience," he monotonously said.

"Now you're just being dramatic!" you huff out, "Are you really incapable of being silly?"

He pauses for a second as if in thought, "Maybe."

Truth was, it was a reoccurring thought that passed through his mind multiple times whenever he hung out with you. Being so carefree and open was never a luxury he got to have, even when he moved in with his father he still felt some form of obligation of stoicism in the manor.

"Wow, we really need to find a way to heal your inner child," you mention offhandedly paying more attention to your knee, not noticing the way Damian's eyebrows rose.

"Maybe," he muttered, barely audible enough for you to hear. His inner child, huh? He didn't know if it was still there at this point but your antics made him self-aware of the reality that he's a child soldier, his childhood wasn't the same as his peers and he knew there would always be a disconnect.

Though, maybe he could finally live as a child instead of a soldier around you.

a/n: turned more into a character study at the end there and it was kinda bittersweet but womp womp

[seattlesellie]

Reader getting a little embarrassed bc Ellie's strap won't fit?

Sorry of that's too much

perfect fit. ♡

screaming crying losing my mind. what a perf excuse to use “ill make it fit”

She’d be on top of you, forehead lightly pressed onto yours. You feel her pouty, somewhat chapped lips ghosting over your own, then lightly and delicately pecking the corner of your mouth. It’s one of your favorite types of kisses, makes you melt into the mattress, heavenly sigh, tremble within her touch. The warmth of her breath caresses your skin, a gentle zephyr of intimacy, of being so close. She looks at you so fucking intently, concentrated, fixated, scarred brows knit together and god, you love that little serious line that forms in between them.

The best way to describe her gaze, the most accurate one, would be to say that she looks at you as if she’s studying, genuinely attempting to take in every little gasp that you let out, eager to decipher every subtle nuance of your existencet, every single blink of your eyelids.

Ellie lowers her hand down from your cheek to the base of her strap on, caressing it upon your soaking, gushing slit. When you moan as a result of its bulbous tip hitting the hood of your clit, then your clit itself, Ellie smirks like an asshole. "I can just keep going like that if you want me to”, she whispers, meaning she knows she could make your pussy cum from just rubbing her cock all over its folds. You shake your head no, because as much as you know that it’s true, you yearn for her inside of you, for that intimacy of getting fucked deep with something she treats as if was her own. Ellie chuckles. “What do you want then, babe?” she coos lowly, continuously hitting that sweet spot above your clit that makes you whine, and her grunt.

You attempt to grab the back of her neck and bring her closer to you, to push her in somehow, but you’re too overwhelmed by everything, your hand ends up falling on the mattress and landing with a small thud. You whine, “Ellie…”, she smirks, moistening her bottom lip and slightly pushing the tip in, so it hangs juuuust a tiny bit away from being inside of your hole. “Inside?” she murmurs, never failing to add that teasing “yeah?” of a raspy coo.

You eagerly nod, she loves it when you do that — so fucking pliant, she stops you mid nod for a kiss that leaves the two of you breathless, tongues dancing a nasty, wet, sinful rhythm within the realm of your hot mouth. She leaves your lips with a loud smack. Your lips are swollen, a pout that kills, how could she ever concentrate on something else in her life?

She’d be absolutely lying if she said she didn’t have daydreams (and nightdreams) of your tight cunt stretched out by her cock, of seeing that pretty clit poking and peaking from the top of your pussy, of watching and taking in the sight of the stretch, the way it’ll slide up and down so easily because of how wet you get.

Unfortunately, Ellie did not take the tightness of yourself in consideration. She picked and packed a nine incher, deep blue and veiny, a bold choice, a goddamn cocky one.

You grab her sleek bicep and dent her skin with your nails, she hisses. You’re actually soaking, a pretty clear pool of heavenly nectar formed on the bedsheet, inside the seam of your ass. Your tiny whimpers are shaky and breathy and ever so desperate, egging Ellie on. “please…” you beg even under no command to do so. “Want it that bad?” teases Ellie, but with how desperate she has become, it sounds more like a plea, begging to please tell her how bad.

“need it inside, ellie, n-need you inside”

"Mhm", she hums softly, eyelids descending languidly, surrendering to the ecstasy of hearing your voice. “M’gonna fuck you” — god, you love it when she tells it like it is.

Pampering your cheeks with desperate, wet little kisses like raindrops, she pushes the tip in further, but… it won’t go inside. It’s blocked, your narrow hole begins to burn, redden, eyesight going out of focus, everything fading into a hazy abstraction. “Babe, it won’t…” she murmurs and attempts to fuck herself inside again. “Fuck, t'wont go in”

Your heart quickens its rhythm, a pulsating drumbeat beneath your chest, as you instinctively shut your eyes and, with a mix of embarrassment and restraint, gently bite down on your lip. You spread your thighs even further, attempting to somehow give her more space for movement, she pushes in again, you wince. “Owh, Ellie… owh”

You don't quite know if you're more embarrassed, or more pissed off. Your hole pulsates and yearns for a taste of her dick, but it hurts, and this feeling bubbles up inside your chest — This actual fear of disappointment, of not being good enough like her previous partners, of being or feeling too fragile, too inexperienced. You can't help but scan your eyes over her face, looking for a sign that will tell you that you're right, that you have disappointed her or worse, but before you manage to find it —

“Ffffuuuhck” she exasperates breathily. She strokes your cheeks with her thumb, a worried expression on her face. Her eyes dart over your form, muscles of her jaw tightly clenched. "Don't wanna hurt you", She murmurs and her voice is so sweet, "Can jus' use my fingers, yeah?"

“No, please" you sob, "I’m— fuck, i’m too tight!” your voice is a whine, an actual tear leaking from the corner of your eye, chin wobbling. Ellie’s so fucking torn because poor you, and she knows it hurts — she doesn’t want to hurt you, ever — but hearing those words fall from your lips… it’s hard not to buck her hips inwards and make you take it, miss “too tight”

“This is so… m'sorry” you actually sob, sniffling and avoiding her loving gaze, and maybe if you’d look — instead of letting your embarrassment wash over you and be a murky presence in your mind, your tears might have faltered. “S’not gonna fit”, your chest heaves. Ellie wipes a tear away — from your cheek, from the corners of your eyes, she considers comforting you, telling you to never apologize for anything, ever again, but she's sensible and rational and knows what do to next, to actually stop your tears from falling.

“babe?”, she huskily murmurs. You hum back, holding onto another choked sob.

“I’ll make it fit”

“Know I will”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Platonic Yandere Kitsune + Child Reader

Imagine the most vain, deceitful, mischievous kitsune 

Infamous for killing hundreds of humans and even more unfortunate children

An actual evil menace 

He has been doing this for a good two centuries 

Already having earned his two tails 

Unfortunately, the wisdom of older age doesn’t seem to disparage him from terrorizing the kingdom’s outer edges

Almost omniscient there's no telling where he is or if he’s in disguise or if he’s been building fake relationships with others to lure them in

It’s scary but not enough to scare off children completely

Which leads to you

A nice life in nobility means you’re sheltered or at least given a nicer tale than most kids

But your family wasn’t without humble beginnings 

So the only real time you do find yourself playing in the great outdoors is then

“Hello, little one!”

He doesn’t bother to hide his fox ears or his flicking tails 

He finds children are easily interested in them

Looking up from the sticks you were playing with, you offer him a smile

He smirks to himself this is going to be too easy

After introducing himself with another fake name he moves along

“Come follow me into the forest, deeper inside we can play house together there!”

“Hmm no.”

“Yay–wait. Did you say ‘no’?”

“Yeah.”

Not entirely...different but different enough

He knows some kids treat their parent’s words as law

so this will take a little more convincing

“Actually I just don’t want to play house right now.”

This is fine

Most children need a little peer pressure to do what he wants

“Fine then. Guess we won’t be able to play together, after all.”

“Okay!”

What?! 

He watches as you skip further away from his direction flapping the sticks

How irritating 

You didn’t do a single thing he wanted you to

He excuses himself to blow off some steam aka drowning some fellow in the river

He tells himself to shake it off 

he still is the best at tricking kids

He proves this by devouring the soul of some other kid with all the same tricks that didn’t work on you

But even with a full stomach, he’s bothered

How dare you?

How could you?

He finds you again maybe not at your vacation home

This time he’s a bit more direct letting his mask slip a little 

“Come with me. Please? I’m so so scared!”

“Then I’ll just get my dad. If you’re so scared.”

“NO! I mean why won’t you? You seem so brave,”

“I don’t want to go in there. I’m wearing my garden shoes. I don’t want these ones ruined too.”

He gets so frustrated 

Going to his lavish shrine where lesser spirits serve him and other mischievous yokai often come to party to complain

“I can’t believe this child is making this so difficult! Sometimes I have such a hard time not just eating them out of spite!”

“Right? But it’s the whole chase that makes it fun!” an especially powerful Chochin raves

“True that and it's more delicious!” a Kappa friend of his toasts 

It isn’t until he listens to a Yuki Ona who really makes him think

“Children bring a warmth like none other. Caring for one is an adventure.”

He remembers that when he starts to watch you again

Finally noticing the quirks that make you the way you are

What foods you like

How you like to be put to bed

It all starts to make sense to him but he still stays

He watches

And he waits

For what he doesn’t know 

He just waits

Sometimes he’ll step away to feed on an adult he comes across or an especially bratty child

Comparing them to you as he picks his teeth

He only really notices when there's a break in your routine

Part 2: Here

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[oppopotamus]

Shoe riding

gojo satoru x top male reader

Warning: nsfw, gojo has a pussy, shoe riding, face slapping (like once), name calling (slut, baby, sweetheart etc), face riding, face sitting, sending nudes, kind of mean reader??

Satoru had always been a little shit, that much was known but nobody knew how much of a tease he was.

Satoru had one of his very few 'free days' where he can take time off of work, it was very rare for Satoru to ever get any sort of break.

Usually you take time off of work to spend it with Satoru since you don't get to see him that much.

Though unfortunately, you were called into work late as it was understaffed and many we're sick and you were the last resort basically.

Satoru begged you to stay, saying he'd do absolutely anything. Whether that be paying you for the next week until you got your next paycheck, or by doing something a little bit more... Scandalous.

You were extremely tempted to take that offer but your boss had threatened you that you'd lose your job if you took yet another day off.

So, you had no choice but to go in.

Satoru was feeling grumpy as he walked around your shared house, he just wanted to lounge around in bed all day with you!

I mean, he's plently rich enough to pay for both of you but you insisted that you didn't want him paying for everything.

Satoru finally had an amazing idea. Well, amazing to him atleast.

Satoru stood infront of the full length mirror that stood in your bedroom. He was wearing nothing but the pretty white lingerie you had brought him a while back which he never really got to wear, thought today he was going to show you how much he loved the gift.

Satoru got his phone camera ready and started taking pictures, many, many pictures. He posed in ways he knew would get your attention and posed in ways he didn't even know how he did!

Just to show you how flexible he was, of course.

Satoru selected the pictures he had thought were the best, all in the lingerie he hadn't taken any nude selfies. Not yet atleast.

He finally sended them to you, he didn't know if you would reply or even if you would see the message.

When you get a text on your phone from the one and only Satoru Gojo you think it's important enough to open.

Once you open them your calm demeanor disappears and you cough to avoid suspicion.

"Are you quite alright, (Name)?" One of your coworkers asks, "Yes, perfectly fine. Just got a bit of a cough."

"Don't you think you should head home then?" Another nosy coworker asks after listening in on your conversation as per usual with them. All your coworkers were very nosy people.

"Ah, boss wouldn't let me head home even if I asked." You said sadly, the photos would not get out of your head. Gojo in all those pretty poses, just begging for you to take him.

You try and shake the thoughts out of your head and attempt to think of something different in hopes your red face would disappear.

"Your face is burning up! (Name), you should really head home. If the boss doesn't let you leave I'll give him a piece of my mind!" The lady you we're just talking to before says.

"Ah, thank you very much but there's no need. I'm sure I'll be fine." You say, before you get another text from Gojo.

This time he's posed so he's sitting on the ground with his legs spread and facing the mirror so you can see everything through the thin fabric of the lingerie.

The photo had been sent with a text below it simply saying, 'come take it off for me?'

Oh god, you were in trouble. You could feel your pants start to get tighter. You don't know how you can even attempt to keep your cool now.

As if on que, your boss comes strolling in asking you where you've been and that you need to report to his office at once to approve some documents.

You're about to follow before a coworker pipes up saying, "He is much to sick, sir! (Name) can absolutely not work in these conditions!"

"I second that! If you don't excuse (Name) from work I'll take it to the higher ups and report you for not letting a sick employee go home." Another coworker says firmly.

You can almost see veins popping out of his head in anger so your boss decided it would just be easier to send you home than having to deal with the higher ups.

"Fine! (Name)... You're free to go home." Your boss says, you can sense the anger coming from him so you quickly pack up your things, saying a small 'thank you' to your coworkers who helped you out.

You're just getting into your car as you get another message from Gojo with yet another photo.

This time the image is of him still with he legs spread except he has moved the lingerie so it shows off his pretty pussy.

Fuck. This man is going to be the death of you.

You send him a message saying 'I'm coming home now. You've been bad, Satoru. Get ready.'

You can practically see Satorus scared face through the screen.

You start your car and head back home, once there you park the car and head to open the door.

You stop in the front entrance and take off your blazer and hang it on the coat rack.

You head up to the bedroom door and open it. "I'm home, Satoru-" You don't finish your sentence before you stop and stare in wonder of how pretty Satoru is.

Satoru's sitting down on the bed, patiently waiting there with his knees under him.

You walk over to him, standing above the bed with your tall height towering over him. You bring a hand out to cup his chin and raise it so he's staring right at you.

"Such a pretty boy. Aren't you, 'toru?" You ask, though you get no answer back. "So very pretty. Too bad you're such a brat." You spit out the last words and raise a hand across his cheek, slapping him. Not enough to really hurt but enough to make him gasp from shock.

Gojo whimpers as you drag him forward, he has to put his hands out to stabilise himself so he doesn't fall off the bed.

"Just a slut, aren't you? Can't even wait a few hours for me to come home. You just had to interfere with my work."

"M'sorry.." Gojo says in response, he's not really sorry at all. He loves the way you act when you get this way.

He'd do it all over again and you know he will, whenever that may be. He's just too much of a slut.

"On your knees." You say gesturing to the side of the bed where you currently stand.

You turn around and sit down on the bed as Gojo scrambles to sit down infront of you.

Once he's sitting on his knees infront of you, you gesture for him to move forward. He does so he's awkwardly sitting there between you legs, he begins reaching out to your crotch before you stop him.

"No, sweetheart. I want you to ride my shoe. I'm not helping you get off today, you've already interrupted my day enough."

Satoru gulps at that and hesitates before he sits atop one of your shoes.

"Like this?" Satoru asks, "Yeah, just like that, baby. Good job." You smile down at him and Gojo suddenly feels proud, as if he's such a good boy, just for you.

Satoru finally starts moving, moaning out as his clit comes in contact with your shoe. He moves forwards and back again, it's not nearly as pleasurable as when you touch him.

He has no idea whether this will make him cum or not. He feels good but it doesn't feel quite enough.

"P..Please.. Need- Ah!" Satoru moans out as he ruts back and forth on your shoe, getting it dirty with his wetness.

"Hm? Tell me what it is you need." You say down at him as you play with his hair while he moves faster and faster against your shoe.

"C-can't." He says shaking his head side to side fastly while he shuts his eyes tightly so he can't see you looking down at him. You know that he will get a headache if he keeps doing that so you grab his chin and force him to look up at you.

"Look at me and tell me what it is you need, baby." You command. He finally cracks his eyes open and looks up at you.

"Need you..." He says, "I'm right here, sweetheart. Tell me what you want me to do okay?" You say while smiling down at him.

"P-please.. Want you to touch me."

"But I'm already touching you, baby. See? You're humping my foot like some dog."

"No.. I mean-" You cut Satoru off and grab his chin tighter, causing him to squeak in surprise.

"You've been such a little slut today, you know? I don't think you deserve to have your way. I think you should just sit there and do what I say. Understood?" Satoru whined at the harsh words but nods anyways, continuing to grind on your shoe.

He lets out groans and whimpers but he soon realizes that just humping your shoe is not nearly enough to get him off.

He wants you touching him, with your hands or for you to have his cock inside him, stretching him open till he cries from pleasure and pain.

Though apparently that's not going to happen today and it makes him whine.

He pleads and begs you, he doesn't even know what he's saying anymore, he's just spewing out words.

You reach down and yank his hair back, he yelps in pain and grips your leg tightly.

"Please!" He whines out, moving faster trying to chase that release he so desperately wants.

You sigh, "Fine, come up here." You say moving back on the bed and lay down.

He crawls up with a dazed smile on his face, and straddles you.

"C'mere baby." You say grabbing his hips and pulling him up to sit on your face. Satoru hesitates for a moment before lowering himself down.

"Ah!" He moans out as you move your tongue inside him. He grinds down on your face, you feel his juices spreading across your face as he moves back and forth.

Satoru moans out as he feels his release finally creeping up.

He's not going to last long, he knows he's going to cum any second. Riding your shoe made him get so close but not nearly far enough.

He repeats your name over and over, getting so close to his release. His clit rubs over your nose while you tongue at his hole.

You're starting to get slightly light headed with him on your face but you know it's not going to be much longer until he cums so you're not worried.

"(Name)! I'm gonna- Oh god-" Just before he finishes his sentence he's squirting all over your face, wetting it.

He sits and breathes heavily for a moment until he calms down and rises off of your face.

"Haah.. Thank you.." He says, looking down at you with a dumb smile on his face.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

fic idea!! ethan and y/n had a fight but she ended up on her knees sucking him to make it up to him.

they had to quickly go back to school because they all eat lunch with chad tara etc.

ethan has his hand on her thigh as they all talk and laugh, but y/n is still horny after that incredible bj.

he teases her, caresses her thigh, hand going up under her skirt, only slightly brushing against her panties. *with pleasing eyes she whispers* "Please ethan ill be quiet i promise"

he ends up fingering her under the table. bonus if she stops him before orgasming because she knows she'll be too loud and they end up fucking in an empty classroom next to the lunch tables

HI!

I absolutely loved this idea! I hope you like it!💕

Alone Together - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: After a fight with Ethan, you make it up to him. It unfortunately leads to you being a horny mess until he finally takes care of you.

Contains: Angst-ish?, Oral - m receiving, fingering, semi-public sex acts, spanking, unprotected sex but like...pulling out lmao. (If I missed anything, let me know:)

A/N: Dude I'm so close to 500 followers, and I want to write something HUGE for it once I get there. 🥹

You and Ethan rarely argued, but after something simple turned into the first major fight of the relationship, you felt so awful that it got to the point that it did. It all started after you told Ethan about the boy that sat beside you in class, and mentioned how he asked you for your number to talk about assignments. Ethan thought that was the stupidest excuse to get a girl’s number, but you were a little oblivious and didn’t think there were any other intentions, so you did end up giving the guy your number. Ethan got angrier the more you tried to downplay it, and he even started to question what your intentions were.

Once he’d had enough of the conversation, he stormed out. He needed to calm down, because he was so close to saying things that he didn’t mean. As hurt as he felt, he didn’t want to hurt you.

After Ethan didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day, he showed up to your dorm after his morning class. He was hoping the two of you could talk it out, because he did love you, regardless of how irritated he was.

“Hey,” you said, once you’d opened the door for him. You were trying to fight off your tears as soon as you saw him, so he pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry I left yesterday, but I was just so mad,” Ethan said, as his hands ran across your back. “I don’t want anyone else to think they can have you.”

“Do you want to break up?” you asked against his chest, as he chuckled.

“I love you too much to do that,” he sighed, “But I’m not going to lie, it hurt my feelings that you just gave your number out like that. I was starting to think that you wanted him to text you.”

“What?” you asked, pulling away to look at him. “You think I’d want to be with someone else?”

“I never did before yesterday,” he said, “Maybe I’m just a little insecure.”

“And a little possessive,” you mumbled, as he leaned down to kiss you.

You knew that Ethan loved you but seeing him get so mad and upset over someone trying to move in on what was his, it showed you how deep his feelings were for you. The simple kiss quickly turned into something more as his hands roamed your body and his tongue moved across your bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth once his hand moved underneath the skirt you were wearing, his hand massaging your ass as he started to back you towards your bed.

“Wait,” you said, as you pulled away. “We don’t have a lot of time for make-up sex.”

“Fuck, I forgot about lunch,” Ethan groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I’m going to be hard for the rest of the day thinking about you.”

“I think I know something that’ll help you,” you said, as you sank to your knees in front of him.

You rubbed your hand over his jeans, smiling once you felt how hard he was for you. You unbuttoned them and slid them down his hips as his eyes stayed on you.

“Are you sure we have time for this?” he asked, as you giggled to yourself.

“You know it doesn’t take me long to make you cum.”

He groaned at your words as you slid his boxers down, and you grabbed his cock as it stood at attention in front of your face. You looked up at him as you leaned in, taking his pink tip past your lips as you swirled your tongue over it.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, as his hand ran across your cheek to rest in your hair.

You were inching him in your mouth as you started to bob your head, taking more of him every time. He groaned at the feeling as your cheeks hollowed, his hand that was loosely resting in your hair gripping it tighter. Once you got to the point that you were gagging around him, your mouth getting even more wet, he started to praise you. “You make me feel so good.” “That’s it, baby. You can take it.” “Fuck, your mouth is so perfect.”

All the things he was saying to you had your core throbbing, because it turned you on so much to make him feel that good. You moved your hand up and down what you couldn’t take, as he whimpered at the feeling. Your hand moved with your mouth, his entire cock getting the attention it needed as he struggled to keep his fluttering eyes on yours. You didn’t look away, though. You loved seeing him like this. The way his breathing got heavier, the rosy tint to his cheeks, the way his head was starting to roll back.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” he panted, as you hummed around him.

His hand was tugging on your hair, the feeling making you moan around him as his eyes screwed shut, a low moan slipping past his lips as the salty liquid coated your taste buds. You bobbed your head a few more times, a lot slower than you had been going because you didn’t want him to get over stimulated, until you slid him out of your mouth, a sweet smile on your lips as he looked down at you.

“I’m definitely not mad at you anymore,” he said with a smile, as his breathing started to return to normal. “Come here, baby.”

He reached down for you to grab his hands as he helped you to your feet before he pulled you into his chest.

“Now I’m the one that gets to be a horny mess all day,” you said, as he ran his hands over your hips.

“Oh, I’ll take care of you later…you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”

Whenever Ethan told you that, he meant it. The idea of him having you in all the positions and him eating it out until you couldn’t take it anymore had your head spinning. You almost wish he hadn’t told you that, because it was all you were going to be able to think about as you tried to make it through the rest of your day.

As you sat at lunch across from Tara and Chad, you were hoping that the conversation would distract you from the not-so-innocent thoughts you were having about your boyfriend.

“Did your boyfriend tell you about what happened to him yesterday?” Chad asked you, as you turned to look at Ethan.

“No…what happened?”

“So he’d just came back from showering, and I came back to our dorm earlier than I was supposed to. He didn’t realize I was there until I said something once he dropped his towel,” Chad said, cracking up as Ethan’s cheeks started to turn bright red. “He fucking screamed, dude. Like, high-pitched and everything.”

You and Tara started to giggle as you thought about it, and it was getting to the point that you couldn’t look at your boyfriend, because you knew you’d only laugh harder.

“Hey, I had a lot going on yesterday. I didn’t expect you to be there,” Ethan said, as Chad wiped a few tears off his cheeks from laughing so hard. He turned to look at you, shaking his head once he noticed how hard you were trying to keep it together. That’s when you felt his hand brush against your thigh before he squeezed it. A strained moan slipped past your lips at the feeling, as he tried to feign innocence. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, I accidentally kicked the table,” you lied, trying to play it off as you took a deep breath.

Once Chad and Tara stopped laughing, they brought up the weekend plans that the friend group had been looking forward to. You were trying so hard to be present for that conversation, but once Ethan’s hand inched up further until it was under your skirt, you looked over at him. He met your gaze, and smirked once he noticed your eyes pleading with his. He shook his head before he turned his attention back to Chad, but his hand didn’t stop.

You bit your bottom lip as you felt his hand run over your panties, your eyes going wide as you tried to calm down. Ethan just kept talking, like he had no idea how badly his fingers rubbing over your swollen clit was affecting you.

Once Chad and Tara started to talk about plans that they had for dinner that night, you leaned over to whisper into Ethan’s ear.

“I need more,” you said, as he lightly chuckled. “Please, baby. I’ll be quiet.”

“You promise?” he questioned, as he pushed your panties to the side.

“Yes.”

The way he had his arm angled, it looked like he was just being a sweet boyfriend with his hand resting on your leg. Chad and Tara had no idea that his ring and middle finger were buried inside of you, moving back and forth over that spongy spot inside of your pussy.

You were happy to be getting some of the attention you needed, but it was taking everything in you to keep your breathing steady. Ethan’s pace kept changing, almost like he wanted you to be loud. He’d slow his fingers down, but then he’d start pressing his fingers so hard against that spot that your hands were gripping the sides of the chair.

You felt yourself getting closer, and you knew you couldn’t be quiet, especially after you had to play off a whimper by doubling over like you’d just gotten a bad cramp. You grabbed Ethan’s wrist with both hands, as you tried to get him to stop, but he just kept going. He looked over at you, noticing how fast you were breathing, and how you looked like you could cry from the stimulation. That’s when he realized that he needed to stop, because there was no way you could make it though your orgasm without it being obvious to your friends across the table.

He pulled his fingers out, and once Tara and Chad talked to each other, he looked back over at you and brought the fingers that were covered into your wetness up to his lips. You needed to cum so bad, and once he did that, you were sure you were going to go feral if you didn’t get your orgasm.

“We need to go,” you whispered, as he looked back over to Chad and Tara.

“We’ll leave soon, babe,” he said, as you huffed in frustration.

“If you don’t take me somewhere and fuck me right now, I’m going to go crazy.”

“You need it that bad?” he questioned, looking back at your friends to make sure they were still in their own conversation.

“Please, Ethan.”

“Hey guys, I think we’re going to get out of here,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at the two of you.

“Is everything okay?” Tara asked, once she noticed that you weren’t really saying anything.

“Yeah, it’s just cramps. I’m going to walk with her back to her dorm really quick before class,” he said, as your friends nodded.

Once you and Ethan got up, he took his hand in yours as he led you away from the table.

“We don’t have time to go back to my dorm,�� you said, as he started to laugh.

“That’s not where we’re going,” he said, as he led you down the hall to a room that was used for study groups.

“We’re going to fuck in here? There’s no lock on the door,” you huffed, running your hand through your hair as Ethan grabbed a chair and propped it up under the door knob.

“No one’s getting in here,” he said, as he walked over to you. “I’m going to fuck you right here on this table.”

“Are you sure we won’t get caught?” you asked, as he reached under your skirt and grabbed your panties and slid them down your hips.

“That depends on how loud you are.”

Ethan tuned you around and had you bent over the table, your elbows resting against the wood as you waited for him to fuck you. You heard the zipper to his jeans get slid down before you felt him move your skirt, so it was bunched up on your hips.

“This is going to have to be quick, baby. Is that okay?” he asked, as he pushed the tip of his cock in your dripping pussy.

“Mhm,” you moaned at the feeling, as he slid the rest of himself inside you. “Just..don’t get your cum on my clothes.”

“It’s going to go all over this perfect ass of yours.”

He wasted no time before his cock started to thrust in and out of you, soft moans slipping out of your mouth. He was so focused on you, but once he glanced up at the clock on the wall and noticed you had less time than he originally thought, he started to pound into you. The sudden pace change caught you off guard, and you had to time to process it before you started letting out loud moans. The tip of Ethan’s cock hit your g-spot with every thrust, and after his fingers a few minutes before, you knew it wasn’t going to take much for him to make you cum. His hands were gripping your hips as he pulled them back to meet his thrusts, your hands moving to grip the side of the table so you wouldn’t fall off it.

Seeing you like this, and it being in a slightly public setting ignited something in Ethan. He let go of one of your hips to give a sharp smack to your ass, the feeling making you whimper as he soothingly rubbed over it before he did it again.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, “I’m so close.”

His hand went back to your hip as he mercilessly fucked you, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the grip you had on the table got even tighter.

Ethan’s heavy breathing turned to groans once your pussy started to squeeze his cock, and you were bringing him so close to his own orgasm, but he was trying so hard to hold out so he could fuck you through yours. The sounds you were making didn’t make it any easier for him, so he finally pulled out.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, once he looked down at his release all over your ass cheek. “You gotta see this.”

You didn’t say anything as you caught your breath against the table, a sweet smile playing on your lips as he walked around to show you his phone.

“Whoa, that’s hot,” you said, as you looked at the picture of the red handprint that was covered in his cum.

“Yeah,” he said, as he walked over to grab some tissues from the other side of the room. “Did you like doing it in here?”

“Yeah, if you want this to be our new spot for quickies, I’m down.”

“I know we just hooked up, but I still want you to come over tonight. I didn’t have enough time for all the things I wanted to do to you,” he said, as he slid his boxers and jeans back up.

“I’d love to, babe,” you said, smiling at him as you stood up.

“Good, because again, you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”

ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I did it again and left it open for a part 2, so if y'all want another part of this where it'll probably consist of nothing but fucking, let me know lmao. It'd definitely be more on the rough side👀

[urhoneycombwitch]

shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one? 

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader 

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all. 

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing. 

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out. 

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath. 

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin. 

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance. 

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears. 

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts. 

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera. 

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place. 

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson. 

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him. 

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business. 

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention. 

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard. 

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby. 

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.” 

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.  

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache. 

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons). 

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass. 

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look. 

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes. 

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack. 

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up. 

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot. 

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space. 

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side. 

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm. 

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks. 

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

[illmasc]

showering with a tgirl friend/roommate in a utilitarian way that slowly gets more and more perverted. maybe it’s because we’re both tired after a long day, or maybe we just want to save water…regardless of our excuse, we end up in there together. we somehow fall into a pattern of taking turns washing various parts of ourselves: she washes my back and it’s the best massage i’ve ever had. i turn around and tell her to kneel down—facing away from me, so i can wash her hair, of course. i ignore the needy puppygirl whines that come out of her as i work her shampoo into her scalp, pulling lightly on her hair sometimes by accident—i must be hearing things. it’s loud in here with the shower running. who knows.

when i’m done rinsing out the shampoo, she gets back up and asks to wash my cunt. usually, i’d be embarrassed by a request like that, but she just asks so innocently and sweetly that it’d break my heart to refuse. she’s nice and ignores how my tdick slowly perks up as she gently, but thoroughly, slots her hand between my legs to rub the scentless soap between my folds. i think she might be blushing as she rinses me, but it might just be the hot water and steam making her warm. i feel a sudden jolt of pleasure as she accidentally rubs up against my tdick and in my surprise i stumble, knocking a bottle of soap to the floor.

“sorry!” she says, and i know she means it because she bends over immediately to pick it up like the good, sweet girl she is.

unfortunately, i’m not so sweet.

the bottle has rolled to where she needs to turn around to get it, and now her hole is on full display. without a second thought, i take a handful of her asscheek in my hand and squeeze, pulling it a bit aside to see her hole better. she doesn’t move—in fact, it seems like she’s frozen, forgetting her original task. she arches a little, and i take it as encouragement. i fondle her cute little balls with my other hand and her noises are like music to my ears. there’s no denying it now—she’s just as pent up as i am.

it’s my turn to clean her, so i get down on my knees and put my mouth to work on her pretty little hole.

[fanon-canon-idfk]

BRO PLS UR POLY SKK I NEED

Using this as an excuse to ramble abt it more in the form of scenarios!!

Cuddling at night:

Dazai is the triple little spoon

The order goes you, Chuuya, then Dazai

Chuuya’s back against your chest as you spoon him all the while you’re both simultaneously spooning Dazai

Occasionally you switch it up and Chuuya still likes to be in the middle then

Dazai and you playing rock paper scissors for who gets to hug his waist

Dazai usually unfortunately wins….

It’s ok bc the way Chuuya plays with both of your hair as you lay on his chest and Dazai lays on his stomach is heavenly

Lap sitting

Dazai is a lap sitter yall

Chuuya won’t be thinking abt it as you’re all sat on the couch until Dazai comes back from the kitchen and sits right on one of your thighs,

Knowing well why he left your other thigh free

Chuuya was nervous the first time he did so he really just begrudgingly scooted closer slowly until you helped ease him onto your lap

But now when he sees it he just chuckles and scoffs before sitting right on your leftover thigh

Dazai also likes Chuuya’s lap a lot

He has really muscular thighs it’s the perfect chair

Imagine him forcing both of you to put one of each of your legs together so he can sit on both

He’s spoiled like that

Kissing

Chuuya is a slow and sensual kinda guy

Meanwhile Dazai lives to be sultry and teasing with his kisses

Chuuya and Dazai ofc make it a competition to see whose kisses you crave more

They tally down how many times you lean back in after they part a kiss or how many times you initiate a kiss first

That’s when they both realized it was a tie by the end of the day

Then they end up bickering

And making out afterwards

Working together

If you’re in the port mafia

Dazai sneaks in (by sneak I mean cockily waltz right in) and comes to bother both of you in either of your offices

You’ll come to talk to Chuuya and the second you open the door be met with them kissing with Dazai in Chuuya’s lap

Now, if you’re in the ADA

Chuuya brings you both lunch to work

Nobody stops him ofc they know better

Dazai will send him photos and videos of you both in the office or cafe together in your group chat

These messages vary from him using funny filters on your face as you work to you two kissing (with Kunikida watching in disgust)

Going out

Not even just dates

You guys get up to enough trouble just being at the grocery store

Within 10 minutes you and Chuuya lose Dazai and have to play Marco Polo to figure out which isle he’s in

Dazai stuffs a million meaningless things into the cart and Chuuya puts them back right after

They bicker about it in the middle of the store

You’re just trying to push the cart but have to be stopped by their shenanigans

It is a very challenging process

Now as for dates

Dazai is so open to PDA

Chuuya is blushing in pure embarrassment as Dazai clings onto him (nothing outside his boundaries however!!)

If you’re ok with it then it’s you and Dazai making out or kissing both sides of Chuuya’s face in a restaurant as his face heats up

ALL RIGHT IM OUT OF SCENARIOS GIVE ME MORE IF YOU HAVE ANY!!! I LOVE BEING IN A POLY RELATIONSHIP WITH SKK!!!!

[springseasonie]

Auralism Pt. 3 | PJS (M)

Voice actor Jisung x fem reader

Part 1. Part 2.

Summary: Your minimum wage job at a cafe brings you little to no joy. That was till an unexpected person walked through the door during your closing shift, making your day a lot more eventful.

Warnings: sexual content, dom Jisung, big dick Jisung, public sex, oral (fem and male receiving), face hitting/smacking (not enough to hurt the reader), fingering, cum eating, almost (actually) caught, face riding, face fucking, deep voice Jisung the whole time, hes very talkative

Word count: 6,3k

A/N: hey (laughs nervously) I haven't posted anything in almost a month ik it's criminal lmao. Life has been beating my ass. I hope you guys enjoy it I suffered writing this. Feedback is loved and appreciated 🤍🤍

He did it. He actually did it.

Jisung did a face reveal.

And God, was he one of the finest men you've ever seen. His big brown eyes, sharp nose, plump lips. If sex was a person it would probably be him. He looked better than anything you've ever imagined and deep down you're glad he was handsome because it couldn't break your fantasy. But now your fantasy could be ten times greater.

And unfortunately for you, it means you'll be all the more crazier. Masturbating to his voice is one thing, but you took a jump and masturbated to his face. Now you're at work, trying to clean the tables of the cafe as you attempted to push the events of the night prior to the back of your head. Very rarely are you embarrassed, but this was a new low. But was it really your fault that the center of all your orgasms just happened to be just as hot as his voice?

You're busy scrubbing the tables when you hear the bell on the door ring. It was the middle of closing and you just wanted to make it home to rest at a reasonable hour.

"I'm sorry sir, we're about to close in 10 minutes," you said, still wiping down tables.

"I'm sorry, you guys are the only people open right now and I really need some coffee."

Your heart dropped as soon as you heard his voice. Looking up slowly, you looked at him, standing there in front of you. "I-I…I.."

Jisung looked at you confused, brows furrowed not knowing what's wrong with either you or him. He watched as you gulped, going a bit wide eyed as you kept staring at him. "Are you okay?"

You were usually really good at masking your emotions from your many hours in this job, but this time couldn't be helped. If there was a list of the top ten embarrassing moments of your life, this would definitely be number one. You couldn't even respond to him, hands trembling on your sides slightly. But you had to pull it together, fake it till he left.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," you said, but he still looked at you worried. "We're going to close soon though."

"I know…but I really need coffee. Is an Americano okay," he asked, voice whining as he begged.

You gulped as his voice hit your ears, growing more and more aroused as you stood there listening. You couldn't help but stare at him in all his glory. He's tall, probably about 5'11 from where you were standing. He's wearing shorts and a hoodie, but he looks to be pretty muscular and in good shape. You watched as he pulled his wallet out the pocket of his hoodie, the way his fingers were wrapping around the object. You always thought he was just hyping himself up for the audios but fuck, his hands were big. Fingers were long too just like he said.

You didn't notice how long you were checking him out until you heard him clear his throat. Startled, your eyes search to look at anything but him. You really want to go home for the night, but making his coffee as an excuse to keep staring at him is a better idea.

"I don't know if you're tired or not but you keep staring at me," he said, giving you a warm chuckle.

You blinked, snapping out of the trance you were in and looked up at him. "Yeah sorry, I'm exhausted," you laughed, trying not to make the atmosphere stiff. "I’ll make you coffee. Just sit over here."

Jisung walked over to the stool, climbing on the chair as you went behind the counter. You began making his drink, not speaking a word as you worked. The lights in the cafe were dim, giving his features pretty lighting. The way the light hit his long lashes and pretty lips turned your legs to putty. You weren't even paying attention to what you were doing, spilling some of the ice on the ground.

Jisung looked up from his phone, brow raising as he watched you scramble to clean it up. Jisung noticed how jittery you were since he walked in and couldn't understand why. At first, he thought it was just because you were tired, but he saw you staring at him, sneaking gazes a little too much. He wondered what was on your mind, why exactly you kept looking at him. You were definitely his type from a looks standpoint too so maybe he should make the atmosphere less awkward.

Jisung cleared his throat as he looked at you across the counter, gaining your attention for a second. "So, are you from around here?"

You continued making his coffee, pouring 2 shots of espresso in the cup. "Yep, born and raised," you answered, trying to keep your composure. "What about you?"

"Just moved out here a couple of weeks ago," he answered, pushing his hair back.

You froze for a second, processing his words. He's been around you this whole time and you had no idea? Of course you would have no idea, you had no idea who he was up until the night prior. But the fact remained that you could have spoken to him at any time, completely unaware that he was the man making your day worth it every night.

"Really," you said, pouring the espresso over the ice. "Are you in school or anything?"

"Yeah, I'm in uni," he nodded. You watched as he licked his lips following his answer.

"What's your major?"

"Computer science."

You snickered to yourself. No one would ever guess he was a computer science major based off of his reddit content. He seemed like a completely different person offline, nothing like you imagined but you liked that. "So you live on campus or..?

"Oh no I have my own place that I rent out," he answered, shaking his bangs from his face. You were too focused on making his coffee to notice him eyeing your body from across the counter. If you did notice you'd probably melt or something, he's very careful with his looks.

"Really? This city is pretty expensive to live in, especially as a college student," you said. "Sugar?"

"Oh yeah, sure," he answered.

You nodded and added sugar before putting the cover on the plastic cup. You placed it in front of him, giving him a small smile. "It's on the house."

He looked at you surprised, but shook his head. "No, no. I'll pay, I'm holding you up anyway."

"Okay if you say so," you said and laughed softly. You started cleaning the coffee machines, throwing the grounds in the trash and throwing the dirty utensils used for the day into the sink. "So," you said trying to fill the silence, "do you do anything else besides school?"

"Oh yeah, I work," he said, sipping his coffee. But you knew that already. You knew his job, and you knew it very well.

"What's your job?"

Jisung glanced at you, who was looking at him intently. He didn't know what to say. Should he tell the truth or just give a vague lie? He wasn't exactly open about his job, but he took a leap of faith the night prior with his face reveal. People were bound to recognize him sooner or later.

"I do a bit of voice acting," he said, taking a sip right after.

"Really? Voice acting and computer science are really different things," you said leaning on the counter.

"Well, a lot of people told me I should try. They said I have a nice voice."

"They were right," you complimented. "It's really nice." You didn't realize how you said it, but your sudden tone change made Jisung quirk his brow. You were really trying to keep it together but the more he spoke, the more memories flooded in your head of every single time you laid in your bed cumming for hours to his voice. You felt your hands twitch looking at the man, his eyes never really leaving your leaning frame as you looked at him in silence, heart and head racing.

"Thank you." Jisung took another sip, but this time it was slow as he kept eye contact with you. The air grew thicker, you looking prettier than when he first walked in as he kept his eyes on you. "I never really asked you about yourself. What do you do besides this?"

"Go to school, write a bit, nothing special," you answered.

"Mhm.."

At this rate, you were probably going to slip up if he kept making noises like that. Sweat was collecting on your temple from your raging hormones – it was almost becoming too much to bear. All you think about it was him fucking you against the counter, hand wrapped around your throat as he whispered nasty things in your ears. He was so hot just sitting there drinking, you felt like a hormonal teenager. Your underwear was not surviving the night dry. You lifted yourself off the counter and went to the sink full of dishes, sticking your hands in the water to clean them.

"What do you write," he asked, typing on his phone.

"In school I do a lot of research reports, but I write lots of fiction in my own time," you answered.

Jisung hit the post button, placing his phone on the counter. However it didn't go unnoticed how yours buzzed at almost the exact same time. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was just a weird thing that happened at the moment, but maybe the thought in the back of his head was right the whole time. Maybe you did know who he was and that was why you were acting weird when he first walked in.

You picked up your phone, checking the notification to see it was a post by the very many sitting in front of you. You read it, reading something about him being bored so there was probably going to be a surprise later that night. Right as you glanced up at him from your phone, he was staring right at you, a smirk tugging in his lips.

"So you do know me," he chuckled softly.

"What? I don't know you." You were completely caught off guard by the sudden accusation. The whole time, you thought you were doing so well in masking it, but somehow he found you out.

Jisung took another sip of the cold drink, gulping as he chuckled at your panicked response. "It's okay, you don't have to be nervous." He licked his lips pausing before speaking. You were clearly uncomfortable with the exchange and he should probably stop, but he wanted to have fun with it. "You listen to my stuff often?"

"I…" You blinked, not sure if you wanted to answer his question. You were standing there in a room alone with him just like you always imagined. So many times in your head, you had scenarios of how you would meet him, but at your job wasn't one of them.

"What? Are you embarrassed," he laughed.

"I'm not embarrassed, this is just not the way i thought it'd go," you admitted, mumbling.

"Meeting me? That's cute, you thought about it," he said, resting his face on his palm. "I never asked you your name."

"Y/N," you answered.

"Well, Y/N, I'm glad that I have pretty people like you that listen."

There it was, his soft soothing bedroom voice that made you lose your mind. You were about to respond when he cut you off unexpectedly. "Do you touch yourself listening to them?"

If life were a TV show, there would be a room full of gasps with no one around. You couldn't even move, just keep squeezing your thighs together like you were doing for the past 5 minutes. You felt small with the way his eyes lingered on you, waiting for you to answer.

"You don't have to answer if you want to. I was just curious," he said, giving you a kind smile.

"I-I do."

He nodded, smirking to himself at your change in body language. Nothing turned him on more than knowing you listened to his voice and came from just that. Knowing he could give you pleasure without even looking at you, touching you, doing anything but speak to you was starting to make him hard. Of course he knew all these things happened regardless but having living proof in front of him made his mind reel.

"How often?" He tilted his head slightly, watching you lick your lips as you looked away from him, wiping your hands on your apron.

"Really often.."

"Like every night?"

"Something like that." You said you weren't embarrassed about it before, but somehow this situation is probably the worst thing that could have happened to you. You felt like you were caught doing something wrong, like he was interrogating you in a way. But you liked it, you enjoyed the feeling. It made every fiber in your body tingle, making you even more excited.

"That's cute," he spoke softly. "Do you have a favorite?"

You looked at him then at the time. It was now 20 minutes past 8 and everyone should've long been out, but you've been entertaining the man of your dreams for a while. You couldn't possibly just kick him out, not when he seems as into you as you are into him.

"A couple," you answered honestly. You were beginning to feel shy answering all his questions, telling him about how privately obsessed you were with him. But you had no idea that every answer you gave him was only making him harder and harder underneath his sweats. Jisung meant it when he says the thought of his fans touching themselves to his voice turns him on. He thought about it all the time, but now that there is a living breathing example of this, he feels like he had to drag this out.

"Let me guess your favorite one," he said. "Alone time, date with you, couldn't sleep, stress relief…"

Your breath hitched hearing the title of the audio you were listening to the night prior. Jisung gave you a dry chuckle, licking his lips as you stood there completely still. The sheer power he had over you was astounding and it sent his mind to crazy places. "You like that one don't you?"

You nodded, gulping at the way he stares at you.

"What's your favorite part?" Jisung's fingertip circles the rim of the cup slowly, questions burrowing into your brain.

"I'm…not answering that," you said quietly.

"Why not," he teased playfully. " Would you like it better if I repeated some things to jog your memory?" He stood up from the stool, making his way behind the counter slowly. You watched Jisung walk behind your counter as you backed away after every step he took. His long legs got to you quicker than you expected, making you lean against the counter as you tried to move away from his large frame. Jisung planted a firm hand next to you, moving your body closer to his as he caged you in.

Leaning down to your ear, the soft tickle of his breath made you shiver. You looked at him, side eyeing the man as you watched every move he made hyper aware of whatever he was doing or saying.

"Does my voice turn you on, hm? Does it make your pretty pussy wet?" Jisung laughed darkly watching the visceral reaction you had to his word. You gasped softly, knees almost going weak immediately as you whipped your head to him, making him raise a brow at you. "Was it that one, or maybe it's an even better line. What about "I know you want my big cock to stretch you good. If I had you I'd fuck you so good you wouldn't remember your name." "

Your mouth parted slightly going dry hearing the words he said in the mic hit your ears in real time. This was definitely a fantasy you played in your head over and over, a reoccurring wet dream that started feeling lucid. At this point you couldn't tell if it was real or fake, if he was actually standing in front of you or if you were genuinely crazy.

"So which one, hm? Or should I keep reciting more lines," he asked, smirk on his face as he scanned your expression.

"Those were fine," you responded breathlessly. At this point, his face was extra close to yours. You couldn't look him in the eyes, afraid you'd fall to your knees and beg him to touch you so you opted for his lips instead. But oh boy, was that a bad idea, because now you couldn't stop thinking about kissing him, his lips all over your body, how they would feel all over your core.

Jisung stares at you, emotions coming to a standstill as he feels his dick becoming fully hard in his pants. This could either go one of two ways: he fucks you on this counter or rubs one out at home. But it's not looking like the second option is happening anytime soon. Not when he happened to be in a situation where 2 of his fantasies could happen at once.

"Do you have any other favorites? I could repeat some more stuff," he said. Jisung licked his lips as he eyed you, watching you squirm slightly under him. "Or maybe we can reenact it."

"Yes," you answered almost too quickly. "I-I wanna reenact it."

Jisung placed his hand on your hip, pressing his fingertips into your side. Your mind went fuzzy, his hands on your body turning your aching core into a pool. You could cum just from his hand on your hip and it wasn't even touching your bare skin. "Tell me which one and I'll make it happen, beautiful."

"7 minutes in heaven," you answer quietly, looking down at your feet. You don't know why you felt so embarrassed telling him about that particular audio, but it was another one you listened to often also. It was one of the rare audios where he showed his rough side, the side that would linger in your head for days to come.

Without a word, he chuckled softly, taking your chin between his fingers and lifting your head. "You're a little pervert, you know that right? Get on the floor."

You kneeled down directly in front of him, pants getting wet from the pool of melted ice from earlier. It hadn't registered that you were doing this in an area where anyone could walk by, where cameras are pointed, but you were far too gone. You looked up at him, breathing heavily as he stared down with hungry eyes.

"Tell me what you liked about it."

"How demanding you were," you mumbled.

He gave you a dry chuckle, licking his lips as he stared down at you. "Suck my dick." You looked up at him, brows raised high as you remained still. Jisung looked at you mockingly, tilting his head when you didn't move. "You can't hear all of a sudden? Suck my dick."

Jisung didn't have to say a word before your hands flew to the waist of his sweats, untying the string. Your fingers made quick work of the knit, but your hands hesitated to go into his pants. You couldn't believe this was actually happening. You were going to fuck the man of your dreams.

"Don't hesitate," he said softly.

You gulped nervously, nodding as you pulled the waist of his sweats and boxers down enough to allow his fully hard cock to spring out. Jisung could tell how numb your brain was at this point, the way you took him in your hands, stroking him slowly. Your breath was shaky despite not doing a thing but kneeling. Jisung wonders if this is something you've dreamt about, something you hoped for. But he no longer has to wonder seeing how you close your eyes, licking and wrapping your mouth around his tip in pure bliss.

Your mouth wrapped around the head, sucking it softly as the small beads of precum hit your tongue. Naturally, you took your hand, wrapping it around his shaft stroking as you sucked him softly. You opened your eyes, lashes fluttering as you looked at the man above you. Jisung watched you intensely, eyes never leaving yours as you bobbed your head. His large hand took a hold of the back of your head, rubbing circles into your scalp as you kept going.

The lights were still on, all windows open on the dark street. Anyone who walked by could probably tell you were on your knees, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was finally being able to make the man in your audios cum like you always wanted. Soon, Jisung's hold on your head became rougher, guiding your mouth lower and lower, more and more. You moaned softly around him, looking up as your brows furrowed.

"Yeah, take it," he mumbled, moaning softly.

It was just like his audios, the soft dominant tone he took to the mic. It almost made your head spin.

"You like having that pretty mouth on my cock?" You moaned and nodded in response, earning a smirk from him. Jisung pulled himself out of your mouth giving you a chance to breathe as he forced you to look at him. "Use your words princess."

"Yes, yes I do."

"Good girl." Jisung parted your lips with his tip, your jaw gladly dropping for him. You stuck your tongue out, taking him while in your mouth and throat. Jisung rocks into your mouth slowly, savoring the way you feel around him. Jisung's moans and groans made you drunk right off his sounds, the only things you're able to focus on is his voice and his cock.

"Look at you," he groaned softly. "looking at me with those big pretty eyes, you're such a good girl Y/N."

He kept thrusting slowly, gradually speeding up making you furrow your brows. You held onto his pants, gripping the fabric as he fucked your throat, sucking him at the same time. Jisung closed his eyes, throwing his head back as his breathing increased just like in his audios.

Your throat tightened around him, saliva messy and all over your chin. His groans and moans were music to your ears, making you want to do more than just a blow job. Just then, you feel a smack on your cheek, not enough to hurt you, but just for the impact. You looked up at him, moaning as he grabbed your hair rougher.

"You liked that? You like it when I smack you," he asked condescendingly. You wished you could answer but your mouth is occupied at the moment. Another smack landed on your face followed by a dark chuckle from the man above you. "You've been dreaming of this haven't you Y/N. C'mon, answer. Oh wait…you can't with your mouth full of my cock can you?"

Jisung kept fucking your mouth at a steady pace, pulling out periodically to let you catch your breath. He was constantly edging himself, moans and grunts becoming louder every time he was close and closer to his orgasm. The scene of you below him was messy. Saliva falling from your mouth, lips swollen and puffy, face absolutely fucked out. He loved it.

"Fuck I can't take this anymore," he mumbled. Jisung pulled himself out of your mouth, giving you a second to catch your breath. "Stand up, I need to taste you."

Jisung took your hands, helping you stand. You instantly leaned on the counter as he dropped to his knees, untying your apron. You took the fabric off your body, dropping it on the counter as he undid your jeans. Jisung pulled them down with your underwear to your ankles.

"Fuck," he said breathlessly, looking at the wetness between your legs. "Fuck, I do this to you?"

You nod silently, a little too turned on to even form words. Jisung smacks the side of your leg, rubbing the spot with his thumb softly right after. "Speak, princess."

"Y-yes you do. All the time. Every night."

Jisung licks his lips, eyes flickering between your face and your soaked core. His breathing was ragged, gulping silently as he just stared at you. "Can I eat your pussy?"

"Fuck yes."

That's was all he needed to dive into your core making you spread your legs even wider for him. Jisung lapped up your juices like a dehydrated man, moaning and whimpering all over your sensitive clit. It wasn't until you looked down at him that you realized he was jerking himself off to eating you out. Jisung flicked his tongue against your clit, stimulating the swollen bud.

"Fuck, oh my god," you moaned softly, voice cracking from the surge of pleasure.

Jisung smiles against your cunt, eyes heavy as he watches you in lust. "You like that, pretty girl?"

"Yes, keep going.."

Jisung never broke eye contact with you, working on himself as he worked to make you cum. You began to rock your hips against his face, his sharp nose nudging your clit ever so slightly making your head spin.

Just at that second, you heard the front door open the sound of the bell ringing in the silent room. In a split second, your hand connects with Jisung's head, pushing him away from your aching cunt. You spun around, looking at the door to see your coworker, Chenle.

"H-hey, I thought you went home for the night," you said. You were speaking a bit louder unintentionally, trying to seem as normal as possible.

"Yeah, but I realized that I left something in the back so I had to come before someone locked up the shop," he said.

You nodded in understanding. You were starting to feel like you could pull it off until you felt Jisung lick a stripe on your cunt as you bent over on the counter. You sucked in a sharp breath, exhaling shakily as you covered your mouth. Thank goodness the counters were so high so Chenle couldn't see the way the younger man was working on your pussy.

"Um, Y/N, are you okay? You look kind of uncomfortable," he asked, looking at you confused.

Jisung moved on from your clit to your entrance, lapping up your arousal. You clenched your jaw feeling his fingers come into contact with your sensitive clit, rubbing the bud in circles.

"Yeah I'm fine, just a stomach ache that's all," you lie. Chenle looks at you, squinting at your unsure answer, but shrugs and walks away.

"You know what's good for stomach aches? Soup," he says.

"I'm pretty sure everyone knows that, Chenle." Jisung chuckles under his breath, lapping at your entrance as he pressed his fingers harder on your clit, making your knees go weak. Thankfully for you, your body was being held up by the counter. "Well hurry up, I want to lock up and go home soon."

"Oh, well I can help you ou-"

"No!" Chenle raised his brows, furrowing them at your sudden denial. "I-I just wanna close alone tonight. It wasn't very busy anyway. I-I can close alone." You couldn't really control the way you spoke at this point, not when Jisung was now rubbing your entrance with his soft fingers, placing soft kisses on your ass. Jisung slowly plunged his fingers inside of you, giving you the stretch you desperately needed.

"Are you sure you're okay," he asks, staring at your flustered expression.

"I'm fine, just a little pain. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before."

Chenle nods, feeling unsure about your answer, but too tired to probe any further. "Okay..if you say so. I'm gonna get my stuff and leave through the back," he said.

"That's fine, just make sure to lock the door on your way out."

You watched Chenle as he nodded and walked away into the back. Watching the door close, you immediately collapse onto the counter, body spent from trying to remain as normal as possible in front of your coworker. Jisung was in awe at how you began to move your hips against his fingers, the desperation in your movements and soft moans. Cunt so wet, your arousal began dripping down his hand. The sound of his fingers moving in and out of you filled the space, your soft whines filling his ears.

"J-jisung, oh fuck," you moaned softly. "I-it feels so good."

"I know baby, I know, but we don't want your friend catching us, do we," he mumbled.

"N-no. I'll keep quiet."

"That's my good girl."

Your attention was split between the man below you and the man on the other side of the wall, making sure he couldn't see you or hear you. But soon enough your focus was all on Jisung who pulled his fingers out your cunt. You whined at the loss of his hand, looking back wondering why he stopped. That's when your body was forced around, back now leaning on the counter like before. Jisung sunk his fingers back into you, fingering you with the same passion as before as he attached his plump lips to your clit.

"Oh my god," you whimpered in a broken moan. Your hand gradually made its way to his hair, cupping the back of his head as you began to move your hips on his hand and face. Jisung sucked you clit hard, flicking his tongue on the bud all while jerking himself under you.

"You're gonna cum for me baby," he mumbled under you.

"Y-yes, fuck, make me cum," you grunted softly.

His moans against your clit sent vibrations all over your body, almost sending you into overdrive. The pleased look on his face, eye contact, his whimpers were far more than you could imagine.

"A-ah, fuck.."

"C'mon baby cum," he mumbled, stroking himself faster. "Cum on my tongue. That's it pretty girl, ride my fucking face. Make me drown in this pussy."

The thought of Chenle being in the back completely disappeared from both of your minds, the both of you moaning and whimpering louder. Your whines and whimpers filled the room as you threw your head back. Jisung fingered you faster, curling his fingers inside of you.

"O-oh fuck, I'm cumming Jisung.." Your body shuddered as you took a hold of his hair, cumming on his fingers and tongue that was flicking your clit even faster through your orgasm.

"Keep cumming baby, don't stop. You're so pretty when you cum baby. Prettiest girl I've ever seen."

Jisung pulled his fingers out of your dripping cunt, cum covering every inch of them. He was so fucked out of his mind, he had to taste you. You watched him as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tongue swirling all over to savor the taste of your cum. He sucked his fingers clean, eyes never leaving yours. But he couldn’t get enough of you. Jisung dived right back between your legs, making you whine as you leaned on the counter.

"Yeah, just like that. Fuck, that feels so good," you whimpered, throwing your head back in pleasure. Your hips moved on their own at this point, riding his face once again, grinding down on his tongue as his nose nudged your clit in the best possible way.

"This pussy loves me, doesn't it, hm," he mumbled, chuckling darkly, feeling your hand pull his hair harder.

"Mhm." You nodded fast, brows knitting feeling that familiar storm of butterflies. "Shit, I'm cumming again."

Jisung smiled between your legs feeling your legs shake again as you gushed all over his tongue. He lapped your cum up like a dog, thirsty for more of your taste. "Good girl. Good fucking girl."

"I-I want you to cum too," you tell him, making him chuckle. "Cum in my mouth, please." You and Jisung quickly switch positions, you now being faced with his rock hard cock. You spit on the tip, licking the flesh messily. Jisung watched you, face still wet from your cum as he moaned softly at the feeling of your mouth. You take him down your throat, gagging slightly as his tip hits the back. Jisung marveled in the way your watery eyes never left his, the way you remained a good girl just for him. Jisung's hand tangled in your hair, the tug hurting in the best way as he began fucking your mouth.

"Take it," he grunted through gritted teeth. "This is what you wanted isn't it? Only sluts want something like this."

Jisung fucked your throat more and more roughly as his orgasm began approaching. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, moaning around him sending vibrations through his body. Jisung pulled himself out your mouth, watching you cough and catch your breath. He tugged his cock quickly, tilting your head up for his orgasm.

"You're so pretty for me on your knees. You take me so good, fitting my big cock in your mouth." He was rambling, brows furrowing as his moans and whimpers grew faster in speed and louder in volume. You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out making Jisung lose it. He stroked himself fast, panting, getting louder and louder, faster and faster. Placing his tip on your tongue, he stroked himself faster, big brown eyes never leaving the scene below him.

"A-ah fuck, open wide for me, swallow it all." Jisung came, ropes of cum shooting all over your lips, tongue, face, everywhere. His shaky moans hit your eardrums in the best way possible, the visual of him still milking his hard cock making you wet all over again. The man watched you as you took a bit of his cum off your cheek, sucking your finger right after.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever seen," he mumbled between breaths. Jisung was spent, that being the most intense orgasm he had in a while, he was exhausted. You on the other hand couldn't have been happier. Yes, he did just fuck a fan and it's frowned upon, but you didn't care about any of that. You gave him a blowjob while he ate you out at your job. Life couldn't get any better than that.

Rising to your feet, Jisung took your waist in his arm fast. "Let's get you cleaned up. You must be tired," he said softly.

"I-I am." Jisung grabbed a couple of napkins and wet them before turning to you. He tilted your chin up softly, taking the wet paper to your skin. He wiped his cum off your face gently, making sure not to hurt you in the process.

"Fuck, I can't believe I just did that," he rumbled. "I can't believe you let me do that."

He smiled, a raspy chuckle erupting from his chest. "We have to get out of here. I'm sure some people walking by have already seen us, not that I mind."

"I'd let you do anything." Jisung enjoyed the lust, fucked out look in your eyes. The way you batted your lashes, still just as pretty as you were before getting your face fucked.

"I-I don't mind either, but I don't think anyone walked by or even saw us." You pulled your clothes back on, getting fully dressed in the open area behind the counter along with Jisung who was trying his sweats.

"So, about that coffee," he started. "Do I still have to pay?"

You laughed softly, biting your lip softly. "I completely forgot about that."

"I didn't expect you to remember," he laughed. "not when I just fucked every thought out of you. By the way,..." Jisung grabbed his phone off the counter behind you, not breaking his stare. "Give me your number."

"M-Me?"

"Yeah, who else," he laughed. You gave him your number, cheeks on fire as you typed. The man of your dreams not only fucked you, but now has your number.

"We should meet tomorrow. At my place," he suggested.

You nodded slowly, gulping as he took your waist in his large hands. You could feel yourself melting yet again, just wanting to sink to your knees and let him have his way with you. "w-why your place?"

He leaned into your ear, breath tickling your skin. "So I could give you some private audios. Ones where it's just you and me. How does that sound?"

You look up at him, nodding frantically as you feel the space between your legs flood with arousal once again. "G-good."

"I knew it would." Jisung took his phone, placing it in his pocket. "I would offer you a ride, but I don't have a car," he laughed softly.

"I-it's fine, I have to finish anyway. You go ahead," you said, shooing him away with your hand.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod. Jisung waves goodbye, walking out the door and into the darkness of the street without looking back. You didn't know you were holding your breath as he left, but you exhaled dramatically, internally screaming at the events that just took place. Never in your wildest dreams would you ever think you'd be in a room alone with the man who makes your audio porn, but things just happen.

You were far too exhausted after standing on your feet all day and having the best sex of your life to continue cleaning, so you decided to just leave and go home early. You were sure you were going to have to hear a mouthful from your manager the next day, it's nothing you haven't heard before.

Grabbing your phone, you shoved it in your pocket along with making sure all of your other belongings were with you before you left. You often didn't bring much with you to work, just anything that could fit in your pocket. Turning the lights off, you walked to the front of the store, locking the large glass door and closing it, finally finishing up for the day.

The only thing you didn't know was that Chenle was still in the back, and watched every bit of what happened through the security cameras.

[julia4today]

almuerzo fluff

(husband!miguel x pregnant!reader)

——-

what’s happens when people find out about you? about your kids. idk but i had this idea so just bare (bear?) with me. writing on iphone and computer-- there's some spanish in there. i don' t practice all that often since i left home so excuse any off translation

tw: swearing, angst if you squint, no proofreading

——-

guards, hq doesn’t need ‘em. mainly because they have thousands of spidermen swinging around, ready to save. unfortunately those spidermen aren’t always the most aware when it comes to being in hq. considering you somehow managed to slip past them.

you, with a toddler on your hip and a basket of food in your hand combined with your intensely slow walking. you would expect to atleast have some hassle getting through the doors.

you were so close too, just one more hallway until you could have lunch in peace with your husband. unfortunately some spiders get nosy. some spiders try to detain you, take your kid from you, call over other spiders, and rummage through your food.

of course this doesn’t go without protest.

“ma’am who are you? and where did you get this kid? to what do you have business here?”

“give me back my kid.” you respond struggling against the grasp of a…dinosaur? no im just kidding, yet another peter parker.

“we have no way of knowing that she is yours.”

crying and kicking coming from your daughter, gabriella. “get away! get away! i want mommy!” she screams, trying her best to now push past the crowds to get to you. a spider picks her up, beginning to take her away.

“get your hands off my kid!” you say, as tears prick your eyes. finally struggling free and, slowly, running to grab gabriella. picking her up and holding her in your arms. “it’s okay honey, mommy’s here.”

wiping her tears you turn to face the group, looking around you notice your once perfectly made up lunch with all the food for a family of 5 (your husbands a big eater…) was now strewn across the floor.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you shout, covering your daughters ears, slowly rocking her. you hear a spider call the boss, your husband. how unfortunate for the group.

“we don’t know who you are, if you’re dangerous, what you’re doing here!”

“i’m pregnant, with my daughter, carrying a basket of food to my husband! how is that dangerous?!”

“well we-“ cut off my the stomping you know so well and the yelling you could never forget.

you could hear him, saying that “if it was something stupid he’d fire all of them.” that “if the woman was dangerous why didn’t they call him sooner?"

as he approaches you see his eyes widen and his body relax. he lets out a sigh. he easily makes his way through the masses, a path paved for him, through the sea of people.

the crowd watches in awe as he picks up the little girl. "hola mi princesa. ¿como estas?" he says softly as he wipes any excess tears from gabriella's eyes.

"papa they were s-so mean to mommy."

"i know baby, i'm sorry you had to go through that," he replies, glaring over at the, now, cowering and slightly shocked, group of spiders. he turns to you, placing a kiss on your cheek. "¿qué pasó, mi amor? pensé que venías a almorzar."

"yeah, well that's not what they thought. nuestra comida está arruinada," you hang your head in annoyance.

"i know, but luckily we have a food court, although nothing is better than your food," he lifts your face, sighing and turning around.

"what the hell is your problem? putos cabrones, THAT'S MY WIFE. idiots," he yells, still holding gabriella. who has now fallen asleep in her dads arms.

"s-sir we didn't know." a brave spider spoke up.

he rolls his eyes, resting his free hand on his hip. "and you think a pregnant lady, with her daughter, and a basket of food is really a threat? why did i hire such morons?!" he exclaims.

he turns towards you, putting on a sweet expression with a soft smile. "c'mon mami, let's go get some food." turning around once more he yells one last times.

"you all, pick up this mess and meet me in my office in two hours." everyone could pick up the sinister tone in his voice, it wasn't hard to miss.

"mi héroe," you say, and you all walk towards the food court. although when you have a group of teen spiders wandering around the building who are a little too obsessed with heir bosses personal lives, you don't get much privacy.

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alright what do we think? also yes mahagony pt 2 is coming but honestly i haven' t had any motivation to start pt 2 yet. so sorry to those waiting. i woke up at 5 am and suddenly had the urge to make this so heres hoping we all like it