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#i was nine when they both started airing
cobbbvanth · 1 year
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hey reblog this and tell me the first queer character(s) you remember seeing on tv and how old you were
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miguelhugger2099 · 15 days
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Hands
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Summary: His hands are...big. A/N: I saw someone say this mans hands are 11 inches and i genuinely started tweaking. bro. his hands are larger than my head......
Miguel x Reader, Fluff?, Little suggestive, Drabble,
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Spider-Man 2099 was probably one of the biggest Spider-Man ever. Well, if you're not counting the robots and dinosaurs–Miguel O'Hara is abnormally large for a human. Half-Human.
Standing at a whopping six foot and nine inches, his bulky build didn't help with his intimidating aura and height. So yes, he was tall but also wide.
Which also meant that everyone, at least, most people were shorter than him.
You could tell that it even became a problem. While talking to him, he'd have to bend his neck to talk to you. His posture would slouch just so he could hear you speak. When he'd look away, Miguel would rub the back of his neck, massaging out the knots that were forming from craning his head down so much to talk to the other Spiders.
You've seen tall people and you've seen others with muscles–however you were more focused on something smaller. As Miguel would type away on his monitor, viewing and discarding dim yellow screens in the air, you'd not so subtly stare at his hands. A part of you was amazed and a part of you had some sort of sick guilty pleasure watching his fingers move around. You coughed into your fist and looked away when Miguel snapped his head down at you, the familiar heat crawling up your neck.
“What?” He grumbles, his eyes squinting down at you.
“Huh? Wuh?” You turn your head around, pretending to think he's talking to someone else.
Miguel rolls his eyes, a soft scoff escaping his lips before he grabs your chin. Your breath gets caught in your throat. Miguel’s fingers squishing your cheeks and pulling you forward to him. His fingers stop near your temple and you can barely hear his voice through the haze of your mind.
“Wait–wait, say that again?” You whisper while Miguel just stares at you.
He lets go of you and you miss the heat from his palm. “You obviously aren’t focused. Either get it out of your head or leave. I don’t need someone distracted right now.” He tsks and focuses back on the monitors, hands waving in the air. You shuffle from side to side, clenching and unclenching your hands into fists. You fought with yourself wondering if you should let the impulse get to you. “Can I see your hands?” You blurt out. Miguel freezes but his eyes are in a confused wide stare at his screen. “What?” “For like a second!” You defended yourself, holding out your palms and raising your eyebrows in a pleading way. Miguel looks between your hands and face, an uncomfortable and confused glint in his eyes. Pouting, you take it as rejection, sniffling dramatically to yourself. But Miguel looks away as he places his hand in yours gently. You gasp in happiness and bring it up to your eyes. You press your thumbs to his palm, both of them looking tiny. Pressing harder, you notice little slits of his talons coming out and you giggle. Pressing over and over again, you watch as the little claws extract and retract repeatedly. Miguel’s eyebrow twitches. Then using one of your hands, you place yours and his hand together, wrist to wrist as close as possible. You blink and take a closer look at the size difference. Your entire hand barely reached past his palm, his fingers even longer.
While you marveled at how giant Miguel was, Miguel looked down at you with a flushed expression. Blush scattered across his cheeks as he noticed how small you were compared to him. He knew he was a big guy–he knew that compared to him, everyone was pocket sized. But particularly about you, it was more in his face. He had an urge to wrap his fingers over yours, wanting to see how it would engulf yours. You move his hand to the front of your face, your nose bumping into his middle finger. Even then, his hand was still very much larger than your head. “Holy shit. Do they even make things in your size here?” You laugh, your breath hitting his suit and he feels the warmth of your laugh through the fabric. Miguel squirms slightly, watching how his hand is covering your entire face. If he wanted, he could grab you right now. He could grab you, pick you up, cover your blabbering mouth easily, and maybe he can easily push your head into the mattress with a single hand– Miguel burns, looking away and pushing your face away from him. You yelp and stumble back from the force, catching yourself before you hurt yourself on the floor. “OW?” You glare at him. He’s turned away from you, back to bringing up video files and camera recordings of different universes. “Get back to work now.” He growls and you dust yourself off with a huff. You take another glance at him before sighing and facing the other way–failing to notice the tips of his ears a dark red shade.
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aidaronan · 1 year
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"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.
"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."
Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"
"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."
Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."
"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.
"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."
Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"
"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."
"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.
"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."
"That sucks."
"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."
Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."
"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."
"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."
"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.
____
It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"
It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.
Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.
"Well, this brings back memories."
Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.
Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.
Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.
"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."
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wonwoonlight · 4 months
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take a chance / jeon wonwoo
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Wonwoo x Reader // 1.7k words // nothing but fluff lol they're idiots
a/n: if you cant tell im absolutely insane abt this wonwoo. 100000% self indulgent and 100% not proofread as always ehe <3 v lowkey inspired also by niki - take a chance with me
He drives me crazy, it's so beyond me
How he'd look at me dead in the eye and stay unaware
Niki - Take A Chance with Me
[☆]
Wonwoo has never really been interested in romance.
When he was six and his friends started talking about girls were icky, he couldn't have cared enough to even think about girls in particular.
When he was fourteen and his close cousin who was practically his big brother told him about his first girlfriend, Wonwoo had simply nodded and congratulated him because the older guy looked like he was waiting for it even though he didn't get what's there to congratulate.
When he was seventeen and another cousin got married, he thought a little about what it'd be like to commit yourself for the rest of your life to another person.
Anyhow, now he's twenty seven and still pretty much free from the dating experience.
He just simply couldn't be bothered to try nor was he even curious enough to try.
There's too much risk. Too much things to do. Too many factors to think about. It's too complicated and Wonwoo has never been a fan of complicated.
Sure, the older he gets the more he understands about the attraction and whatnot. But the few dates that he has been on (which he could count with his two hands) was entirely due to his friends setting up with someone and his inability to say no the second time even though he did reject their so-called-help the first time around.
They eventually get the hint and stop setting Wonwoo up on a blind date.
He never sees romance as a necessity and he doesn't feel the need to have a partner, what is there more to say?
“I lost the floor 12 Abyss again.” You pout, half tempted to throw away the joystick in your hands. “I'm never playing this game again, I'm telling you.”
Wonwoo chuckles and tells you to move as he slides next to you, taking the joystick away and getting ready to restart your game.
“You just suck at this.” He teases, not minding your glare because he's way too used to it at this point. “And you say that everytime but here you are, still playing.”
“Shut up.” You pout, both impressed and unimpressed at the way he easily goes through the stages.
“Done.” He grins, all nine shining stars looking back at you.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don't.”
“I do!” You take back the joystick from him and close the window. “You don't even play this game! This is bullshit!”
He laughs under his breath and ruffles your hair, saying something about how he can't help being good at it.
You like that side of Wonwoo, as you often tell him, because people have always said that Wonwoo is quiet–that he doesn't talk a lot and it could be awkward being left alone with him.
And whilst it's not entirely untrue and you've been there too, you also know that Wonwoo is much more than his lack of words.
Wonwoo talks a lot once he's comfortable. You just need to be very patient and understanding about his silence before he gets there.
You… have been plenty patient, amongst other things.
You're patient enough to get where you are even though you've never imagined you'd get here.
Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to be comfortable with you that he doesn't mind inviting you over to his place with no other companies.
Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to not mind the fact that you like him and not act weird about it.
Here, meaning being close with Wonwoo despite the fact that you've confessed to him about your feelings but you're still here in his place, right next to him with not a single air of awkwardness between you two.
Turning off the Playstation, you settle on Wonwoo's sofa and decide to scroll through Instagram instead. You sigh, catching his attention, and when he asks you what's wrong, you simply shake your head no.
“What are you sighing about this time?”
This is something that people don't know about Wonwoo either: he prods when it comes to people he cares about.
Granted, he does it exactly three times to see if the other party would relent by then. He does that because that's how he is, he once tells you, because he rarely opens up at the first question but eventually cracks on the third time. That, by the third question, he's already had enough time to consider whether or not he really wants to talk about it.
“Nothing important.” You try to reassure him. “Just silly stuff.”
Wonwoo looks at you pointedly, but you simply smile and turn back to your phone, which he supposes means you don't feel like bringing it up just yet.
He closes his book and puts it on the coffee table, leaning closer to you to see what you're up to.
You wonder if Wonwoo knows what his action means to your poor, poor heart. If he's aware that, as much you said you're cool despite your confession, you still have romantic attractions towards him and confessing doesn't mean you're no longer affected by anything and everything he does.
After watching you go through your phone for a bit, it is quite easy for Wonwoo to realize what might be the core of your problem.
“You're thinking about why you're single again, aren't you?”
Your fingers freeze and so does your entire body, and Wonwoo would've laughed at how surprised you look right now, but he knows you're actually bothered by this problem from time to time though he doesn't exactly understand why.
And for someone who's observative and quite sensitive when it comes to things around him, Wonwoo can be a bit dense, still.
On what kind of universe does he think this topic would be okay to talk about with someone who literally confessed to you and somewhat got rejected though not explicitly?
“I don't want to talk about it.” You whine despite the fast beating of your heart. You honestly don't think you have it in you to talk about this with Wonwoo. At least not just yet.
“Why?”
You look at him, incredulous. “You know why.”
“Because you like me?”
You shrug, not wanting to deny it.
“Can I ask you something?” He asks, voice very gentle and careful.
“What?”
“I'm sorry if this sounds insensitive.” You press your lips together as he starts. At least, he has the conscience to know that. “But… what is it about being in a relationship that appeals so much to you?”
You pause before you answer, wondering what to say. “Do you want me to actually answer that?”
“If you don't mind answering.”
Wonwoo wonders if he makes you uncomfortable by asking such question. But if there's anyone he can ask about this, it can only be you. No one else would answer it in a way that he would understand. No one else would give him the sincerity that you'd give in your answer.
He feels bad knowing you like him and still asking you like this. But he supposes you're both close enough for that discussion, that he doesn't want to let your feelings get in the way of your precious friendship.
Perhaps he's selfish, but he doesn't want to be too conscious when it comes to your relationship with him despite everything.
“I guess it's just the fact that someone's always there for you.” You start, not looking at him even though his gaze is locked at you. “That there's this person who… you can tell everything to, from your secrets to what you feel like eating today. That when you want to do something, you can always run to them first before wondering if anyone else is available. That–”
“But that's already how we are?” He cuts you off.
You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering if it's some kind of prank even though you know he's not that kind of person.
“That's already what I do with you.” He says one more time–more firm and somewhat determined with a hint of confusion. “Why do you think you're in my place so often?”
“I… I– I don't know? You're… bored? And I happen to be free?” You stutter a little, not used to the way he's staring at you.
“I am bored.” He agrees, things suddenly crystal clear in his eyes. “But I'm bored because I don't have you around. And I want you here. That's why I asked all the time if you're available.”
You open your lips to say something–anything, but nothing comes out because your heartbeat is ringing throughout your body right up to your ears.
“You're the only person I send those posts about places I want to visit because I want to visit with you. I don't send them to anyone else. I don't even like going out all that much.”
“I… I don't understand?”
“Are we in a relationship?” He asks rather bluntly, mixing all your feelings together with one single question.
“Wonwoo, I don't think this is how you should go around it–”
“Have we been dating all this time?” He asks one more time, not even seemingly nervous about it.
He looks at you like he's expecting an answer, but how are you supposed to answer that? You've simply been happy that you get to spend time with him. You didn't think for one second that he might be into you despite all the time he asks you to accompany him somewhere and all the time you're alone in his place.
“I've been too oblivious, haven't I?” He concludes by himself, your silence doesn't deter him at all.
He reaches for your cheek, and if he notices how warm your face is, he doesn't mention it. But he caresses the apple of your cheek as he looks at you with the gentlest reflection you've ever seen in his eyes.
“I'm sorry it took me too long.” He whispers, and you bite your lip so hard to hide your smile because you don't want to be too happy before anything's decided. You're not sure what he's trying to say, your head is spinning with thoughts and your heart is beating at an erratic rhythm. “Do you mind… letting me learn a bit more?”
“About what?” You whisper back.
“Being a good boyfriend?” He smiles when you do too, feeling warmth all over his chest at how shy you seem to be. “You know I've never done this before, right? Let me take a chance with you?
You finally let yourself grin at this, no longer able to control the happiness blooming within you at whatever this might mean.
And as you lean your face more into his palm, Wonwoo thinks he's ready to take all the risks that might come together with whatever the future has in store as long as he has you by his side.
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xazse · 4 months
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AFAB!SUGURU GETO X OLDERMALE!READER
Notes: I wanted to hop on the Afab!Geto because I love it!
Tags: Deepthroating, manhandling, blowjobs, NASTY SMUTTT, mentions of Afab!Gojo (little surprise near the end
Pairings: Afab!Suguru Geto x OlderMale!Reader
Suguru doesn’t know how to feel about his next door neighbor: you, you’re very nice, maybe even more than nice: you insist on bringing him and satoru your cooked food if you’ve made too much some days, but hell he isn’t one to complain about free, warm food. You’re an older gentleman, late 30’s, a very nice hefty build on you, Suguru won’t lie and say he isn’t attracted to your prominent features; anyone would be.
He makes eyes at you sometimes, coming out to talk to you when you’re doing yardwork offering you a sweet concoction he made. You’re so polite with your speech, the way you carry yourself, everything about you screams maturity.
But he also loves your mean side, the side where your gripping his hair so tightly he knows he’ll have a headache later: but it’s so worth it when you shove his face towards your crotch, inhaling your scent, your cock isn’t even out and suguru’s head already feels like he’s on cloud nine.
His tongue weighs his mouth down as he waits for permission, permission to have your cock in all its glory.
“Fuck.. ple” he pleads with you, when you finally grant him the privilege, he hurriedly pulls your pants along with your underwear around your knees. You waste no time in shoving his face into your crotch again, his tongue laves all around your cock, seemingly having no control or care to give you specific pleasure. Licking up all traces of your precum has him so distracted that he doesn’t even hear you telling him to suck you properly until a heavy hand pulls him back: and forcing him to take you until the hilt.
He’s sputtering while you use his mouth as you please: pulling him all the way off just to fuck his throat all over again, it’s a repeated motion you do multiple times, before you pull him off of your cock and have him give your heavy balls some attention, he alternates between then but always making sure to give some attention to your tip in the process.
Suguru doesn’t even have to look down to know his panties are sopping wet, he wants so badly to reach down and play with his clit but you won’t allow that, that’s for you and you only to do. But finally, finally after a few more moments of Suguru pleasuring you do you have him face down, ass up. You pull his thin panties to the side, His cunt really was dripping wet, it embarrasses him when you point it out over and over calling him a dirty slut, smacking his ass to emphasize just how dirty he is and of course he groans.
You line your weeping tip up with his hole, making sure to use your tip to press on his clit a few times just for good measure youll tell him. The stretch of you pushing past him is too good, better than those lonely nights where he’d have to use his fingers to get a half assed orgasm if he can even call it that.
You give him a few moments to breathe, allowing him to have calmness before you wreck him and that you do, after a few of experiment strokes do you really give it to him.
Hammering into his cunt has him howling into the couch, his naughty pussy keeps sucking you back in everytime you pull out: suguru feels like he has a lack of air from the strong thrust of your hips, he whines and whines, you feel his pussy clench around you. You take a hold of his hips holding him in place while his cunt contracts around you and he’s cumming around you, he yelps and pleads while you help him ride it out slowly.
You both go still before your cock starts fucking into him again, suguru knows this will be a long night of you wringing orgasm after orgasm out of him.
Satoru really can’t sleep, he’s wide awake and painfully throbbing in his shorts, hearing the hard grunting from you paired with sugurus loud whining has him breathing hard. He doesn’t bother with underwear most nights so it’s rather easy for him to slide his fingers inbetween his slippery cunt,
he knows he shouldn’t indulge, knows he shouldn’t be touching himself like this especially to someone he’s so close with.
But he can’t help but rub his clit, a circle motion done over and over, he should really really stop, it’s gross, but his lust outweighs everything. Satoru has felt a little attraction towards you but compared to the way suguru looks at you: he’s got nothing on the table, but he’d also never get involved with sugurus relations. He keeps up with the circle motions but feels empty: so empty, trying to finger himself just isn’t doing it: satoru wants more, something bigger, he can’t do anything but pathetically try to get off: already feeling tears decorate his eyeline from frustration.
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amourrs · 4 months
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so there’s this absolutely filthy thought that’s stuck in my head of miguel with standing missionary… oh to be fucked in the air like a doll… what can i say i love my men big n strong.
thanks for your request lovey!! — one where you and your boyfriend have a quickie in a public bathroom (established relationship, smut 18+, 0.8k)
Your back is pressed to the wall, hands scraping for purchase against it and coming up empty as your legs squeeze firmly around your boyfriend’s thighs. This is kind of disgusting, you think fleetingly, your head turning towards the closed toilet half a foot to your right. You quickly decide not to care about hygiene, though, not with six feet and nine inches of muscle and sex appeal hard and willing in front of you.
“Cariño,” Miguel pants into your mouth, hands coming up to circle your waist. You’re forced to turn back to him as your eyes begin to flutter closed. “Nuh uh- eyes open, honey. Gotta keep your attention on me or I’m gonna get jealous of a toilet and we can’t give Morales that kind of ammunition against me, not when he caught me stroking that cat last week.”
Your eyes snap open at once. “That cat has a name, Miguel, and it’s Monty—” A gasp cuts you off and it takes you a second to realise that it came from your own throat. Miguel’s hips snap into yours a second time as a smug smile saunters across his lips, twisting them into a condescending expression.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t give a fuck what the cat was called, sweetheart. How could I when I have you right here? Fuck, you’re dripping for me, angel, gonna feel so good when you cum around my cock,” he groans, hands sliding down to cup your thighs as he massages them in his grip. Heat rises to your face and you promptly bury yourself in his neck, peppering kisses to the junction where it meets his jawline as he chuckles at you. “Don’t get all shy on me now, corazón. Actin’ like this wasn’t your idea in the first place,” Miguel teases, his voice cracking slightly as his cock drags against your velvety walls and you let out a broken moan.
“Shut up,” you whine, head still firmly planted against your boyfriend’s hot skin. “Didn’t— fuck— ask, did I?”
Something about the pettiness of your statement is far harder to take seriously when Miguel has your legs shaking around him and so he decides to let it slide, opting to laugh at you rather than torturing you further. “Okay, okay, mi— shit, squeezin’ me so tight. You close, honey? Gonna cum for me? God, please cum for me, you look so pretty when you do—” It’s not long before the huge man’s babbling has your head tilting back to hit the wall of the stall as your cunt clenches around him, your orgasm washing over you as Miguel’s thumb comes up to brush against your clit. You jolt slightly at the stimulation, whining at the slight pain that’s beginning to creep in as Miguel’s thrusts speed up. He’s pounding into you with no reprieve now, arm up above you as he clutches at the top of the stall’s wall to steady himself. “I know, mi vida, I know. I’m sorry, I’m so close, I swear— fuck— taking me so well, cariño, I’m gonna— shit”, he swears, pulling out at the last moment so that he can paint your thigh with his release. It’s so hot when his head slides back to moan as he cums and you have to resist the urge to bite him, instead deciding to whine as you turn on shaky legs to sit on top of the closed lid of the toilet. Miguel turns to you a second later, pulling toilet roll out of the dispenser to his left as he leans over and begins to clean himself off of the soft skin of your thigh, leaving a sweet kiss behind on the spot as he does so.
“So,” he starts as soon as you’re both fully dressed again, your breath finally beginning to return to your lungs. He’s bending down to retie your shoelace for you as he squares his shoulders and looks up into your eyes, an expression of pure, unadulterated (and rather sappy) love evident on his face. “I have a really important question to ask you, and it’s been on my mind for so long—”
You roll your eyes at him, incredulous. “Miguel O’Hara, I swear to God. If you dare propose to me in a public bathroom—”
Your boyfriend’s eyes widen in mock surprise and he rises to his feet. “Propose? To you? In a bathroom?! Mi vida, what are you on about? Clearly I was about to ask if you wanted falafel or sushi for dinner,” he rebukes, barely holding in a peal of laughter as it shakes his broadened shoulders.
“Oh, fuck off, O’Hara. Obviously I want sushi.”
Miguel grins at your irritated expression before leaning down to smear an affectionate kiss across your forehead. “Sushi it is then, cariño.”
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norafaye · 5 months
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ EVERLASTING DESIRE ˊ˗
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lando norris x fem!reader
contains ─┈ · · · 18+, smut: p in v, unprotected sex, breeding, manhandling, obsessed!lando, pussydrunk!lando, wc: 600+
a/n ─┈ · · · another reupload bc it got deleted thank god i kept the screenshot of the request (◞︎‸◟︎ㆀ)
꒰ 𖥻masterlist ꒱
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LANDO NORRIS was in an absolute feral state. the only sounds bouncing off the walls of your shared bedroom were his hips snapping into yours in a brutal pace and loud ceaseless cries pouring from your drooling mouth. it was too erotic, so lewd, and dirty that he wishes he can burn this very instant in his brain to store and replay.
for the lack of better words, he couldn't get enough of it—so fixated on how his cock fits so snugly in your pulsating walls, it felt like he was on cloud nine solely because of the grip your soaked cunt has on him. he couldn't even pull away from you if he wanted to, only being sucked in whenever his hips draw back. it's not like Lando was planning to attempt on removing himself from you anyway, he could get lost in this sensation for eternity and that's exactly what he desired.
that wasn't even the only thing that had him in this chokehold; his eyes couldn't stop zeroing in on your beautiful features reacting to each drag of his cock—eyes screwed shut and brows scrunching in pleasure. you looked madly bewitching underneath him, utterly ruined and unable to contain your shameful moans with your nails digging into his arms. there was sweat that started to bead onto every inch of your soft skin—dampening the sheets, not only that but your brain slipping away from reality was all too visible and he was going haywire from it all.
his eyes clouded over with lust at the sight and his greed got the best of him. it ignited something so carnal in his very being that his thrusts became harder, sloppier, battering your insides with the intention of spilling a load to paint your walls white.
“m gonna—fuck!” he grunts out, blood buzzing when you squeeze around him so firmly, “gonna fill you up—hah…yeah? you’d like that wouldn’t you? make you mine forever?”
he's blurting out mindless words, panting drunkenly from the sensitivity, balls going taut.
"all mine."
you both seemingly were unable to modulate a single coherent thought. only centering on trying to reach your peaks.
"yes—ah! all yours Lando, only yours."
that was enough for him to topple over the edge, spilling his cum inside of you with a breathless gasp. it was so immediate and sudden that it left him shocked and speechless. you achieved your own orgasm upon the feeling of the warm liquid spurting deep in your core, you clamp down and convulse around him, milking him for all he's worth.
a translucent white ring paints the base of his length when he bucks slowly to calm down both of your highs. he shudders at the aftershocks in exhaustion but when he looks at you completely fucked out—his cock stirs once more, twitching and becoming stiff all over again.
he blinks once. twice. considering over his next move. you couldn't even respond when your body maneuvers with such ease, as if you weighed nothing but a feather. his strong veiny hands takes ahold of your limbs to put you on your hands and knees before pushing your head down onto the pillows, gripping your nape with one palm to keep you in place.
with your ass in the air, the cum starts to seep out of your pussy—dribbling down to your clit. rapidly, he catches the fluid with his tip and drags it to your hole again, plunging his full length into you to fuck the cum back inside—making you kick your feet in surprise. the plush pillows perfectly muting your screams.
"can't waste any of it baby. need to give you more. make you full of it."
he's not even bothered by the overstimulation burning the fat head of his cock. you had him wrapped around your little finger to say the least, and he couldn't be more content.
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© 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞 2023 please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works. reposting on other media platforms is prohibited.
— reblogs, comments, & feedback are appreciated!
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jedi-starbird · 2 months
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Time Travel is my favourite trope and I think we need more fics where both Obi-Wan AND Qui-Gon time travel together because no matter when they get sent it's chaos. They're saving the galaxy and being physic flash-bangs to everyone around them.
like before Bandomeer?
The entire council is baffled to watch as Qui-Gon 'never taking a padawan again' Jinn has suddenly cut off his post-Xanatos depression tour to return to the temple and beeline to the creche with a frantic energy. His wild eyes immediately single out a fluffy, red-haired initiate.
"You." he exhales with a pointed finger, slightly ominous as he towers over the child. Said child starts vibrating with delight. "Me." he agrees, launching himself at the man. Qui-Gon drops to his knees with a thud that cannot be healthy. Obi-Wan's attempts to clamber into Qui-Gon's robes and maybe onto his shoulders is thwarted by the fact that Qui-Gon's massive hands are cupping Obi-Wan's tiny squishy cheeks. He stares at the initiate for a few minutes with an intensity that is starting to worry people.
Finally, "You're so small." Qui-Gon sounds like he might cry.
'What the fuck?' Plo Koon projects at Mace.
"I'm 9! That tends to be the case!" the child chirps back.
"You're nine." Oh. Ah. Qui-Gon's eyes are distinctively misty. He squishes the boy in a hug so hard he squeaks. Mace makes a series of gestures that imply the need for a head-scan. Depa obligingly drifts off towards the halls. Qui-Gon scoops the child up onto his hip and claims him as his padawan on the spot. The assorted council members and creche-masters burst into noise. Mace tells Depa to bring some space ibuprofen as well.
after Naboo?
Anakin is a little apprehensive of his place in both the order and Obi-Wan's life, but then one day Obi-Wan wakes up and is suddenly a lot less sad in the force?? In fact, if Anakin didn't know better he'd say he was almost giddy, but he's watched Obi-Wan try to pretend his world hasn't fallen apart for the past few months so it can't be that, right? And um, Miss Bant? He knows grief is a funny thing that affects people differently but he's pretty sure 'massive mood swing' and 'having full conversations with invisible people' is not...great? and you said to tell you if Obi-Wan got really weird in any way.
Anyway after a lot of medical exams, intense consultation with the archives, and a couple exorcisms, Anakin ends up being raised by his 'real' master and his ghost master. He is far more well adjusted emotionally and far less well adjusted for what counts as normal people behavior(not talking to thin air). When questioned on this, all he ever says is that he's talking to Qui-Gon. Isn't he...dead? Well, yes. Wait, he's a ghost? Ghosts are real? ...Well this ghost is real.
This starts a great number of existential crises among non-force sensitives and incredibly heated theological arguments amongst the Jedi. Whenever Obi-Wan is questioned on this, all he ever says is some variation of "the force got to know him for 5 seconds and kicked him back out." Mace backs him up on this even though that reasoning is technically blasphemous. Qui-Gon is having the time of his un-life. He's ascended to his final form, his sheer existence is a heresy, this is truly all he has ever aspired towards.
the Clone Wars?
The minute they get dropped back Qui-Gon immediately goes and haunts the shit out of Dooku. They have a signed terms of surrender and promise of info on the Sith Lord within the year. Only half of it is because Qui-Gon's giving Dooku complexes that are only perceptible to shrimp, the other half is because they now have a ghost spy that is not bound by the laws of physics nor spacetime.
Obi-Wan only nominally pays attention to this as he immediately goes and implements his 19 step seduction plan with Cody (he had to focus on something on Tatooine to pass the time). It fails. Spectacularly. Publicly. Ah right. Tatooine was not exactly the height of his sanity. Everyone in the GAR and temple is now riveted by High General and Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi's attempts to go on a date with his Commander, who bats him away him like a particularly annoying stray and seems one bouquet of cactus away from committing mutiny. Anakin is worrying if it means his master knows about his secret marriage and this is some sort of really weird power play. (It is, but not in the way he thinks)
The next time Dooku goes after Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon spends a good few months appearing tear-stained at the edge of Dooku's perception and only communicating in terrible wails and discordant mutterings of 'padawan. my padawan. my little one.' 24/7.
"Wait, you're annoying Dooku into surrendering?"
"Oh no Anakin, we're crushing his psyche like a bug. :)"
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slvttyplum · 2 months
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Telling daddy!satoru that he “hits like a girl” when he’s giving you your punishment for acting like a brat in front of his coworkers
satoru hated dealing with you because you were a brat. two brats can’t go together, but you were the even bigger brat, so he had to be the brat tamer.
the thing is, he didn’t hate it. punishing you when you were getting out of line and being a bitch was what he did best.
fortunately for you, his words did all the work and he barely had to use force with you—that is, until you pissed him off really badly.
there was an event satoru needed to go to but couldn’t get out of, so he invited you because, why not?
you were acting like someone pissed in your cheerios the whole night; your face scrunched up, and you sneaked off to the bathroom twelve times in a row.
when speaking with his coworkers, you didn’t even try to put on a smile or act interested; you had this disingenuous smile on your face and a monotone voice.
when the both of you got back home, he was on ten, yelling at you and rubbing his fingers through his hair for the whole nine yards.
he could get away with acting like a brat with the people he worked for and worked with, but for you, wasn’t it?
after yelling at you, he stripped you naked and roughly laid you over his lap. of course, you whined and pushed him off, trying to get out of it, but he wasn’t budging.
he got to work on your ass, slap after slap, your leg twitching from the pain in your ass that was slipping down.
even though it was hurting, you couldn’t show or verbally let him know that. your legs flailing in the air, slamming into his arm.
his hand slides down to restrain your legs and continues to spank you, the spanking not stopping.
“you hit like a bitch! stop!” your voice squeaking and your hands shaking, gripping the sheets.
his jaw clenches, and he comes down on your ass again with more strength, making you jerk up and leaving a lump in your throat.
there was no stopping; he kept going faster and faster and hitting you harder and harder. you tried to keep up the fake facade because you didn’t care, but it started to really hurt.
“i hit like a bitch? say it again.” his voice in your ear, his warm breath making the hairs on your neck stand up.
he starts hitting you harder and harder, not holding back, pushing your legs down all the way, and putting his weight on you.
"apologize, and i’ll stop.” he goes faster and smacks down on your ass harder. you didn’t want to, especially because of your pride, but the pain wasn’t even pleasure; he was doing this purely out of anger; maybe that’s what turned you on.
“s… sorry. stop!” he gives out three final smacks to your ass before stopping. sliding his hand up to your face and cupping your jaw.
“learn how to behave.”
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Text
𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦
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COUNTING SYSTEM | SOFT!RAFE CAMERON X READER | IMAGINE | 
PAIRING: Husband!Rafe Cameron x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Your Husband Rafe works through his clingyness and its working.
WORD COUNT → 730
WARNING(S): Clingy!Rafe, Husband!Rafe.
AUTHORS NOTE: this is a sequel to What's wrong with needing to be with her. and technically part three to He wants to see you now.
| RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST | OUTERBANKS MASTERLIST | TAG LIST |
🏷️ @f4ll-for-you Cause they wanted a part three where he works through it.
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Several months had passed since Rafe Cameron had started therapy, and the progress he had made was nothing short of remarkable. With the guidance of his therapist and his unwavering determination to be better, Rafe had developed a counting system to help manage his obsession with Y/N.
He wore a special watch, one with a timer function that he had set to an hour. Whenever he felt the familiar pang of anxiety creeping in, the sensation that he was running out of air without Y/N by his side, he would glance at his watch and start counting. One…Two..Three.. It was his way of keeping track of how long he could go without needing to see her, and he was determined to make progress. One sunny afternoon, Y/N had just finished her errands and was on her way home. Normally, she would have received several calls or messages from Rafe by now, but today was different. She had noticed his absence and had been eagerly waiting for that familiar call as she pulled into their driveway. A smile slowly spread across her face as she realized what that meant. Rafe was trying to hold off, to prove to himself and to her that he could manage his feelings of overwhelming attachment. He was sitting on the couch, notebook in hand, and his eyes were glued to the watch on his wrist. She watched in awe as he continued counting, seemingly oblivious to her presence. The seconds turned into minutes, and Rafe's counting continued. Thirty-Six…Thirty-Seven..Thirty-Eight.. As he approached the sixty-second mark, his heart raced, and he could feel the longing to see Y/N becoming almost unbearable. But he pressed on, his determination unwavering.
He could feel the anxiety building, the need to see Y/N intensifying with every passing moment. But he was determined. He continued counting, focusing all his energy on this self-imposed challenge.
As Y/N entered their home, she saw Rafe on the couch, his face contorted in concentration, his watch displaying the seconds ticking away. She couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as she realized what he was doing. He had been trying to break free from his obsession, to become a better partner for her.
As Y/N quietly approached him, she saw the determination in his eyes, and her heart swelled with pride for her husband. Rafe had never lasted this long without needing to see her or call her when they were apart. This was a huge step forward.
Fifty-Six... Fifty-Seven... Fifty-Eight...
Rafe's brow was furrowed in concentration as he counted down the seconds. He knew she was home; he could hear the car in the driveway, but he was determined to make it to sixty.
Fifty-Nine...
As the final second ticked away, Y/N couldn't contain her excitement any longer. Without a word, Y/N crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Rafe, embracing him tightly. Rafe, letting go of his notebook and watch, embraced her just as firmly, a sense of accomplishment and pride washing over him. His hold on her tightened in response, and they stayed locked in that heartfelt hug for a moment, both feeling the weight of this small but significant achievement.
Rafe smiled, tears of joy welling up in his eyes. "I did it for you, Y/N. I'm trying to get better, for us." Y/N kissed him tenderly, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "I'm so proud of you, Rafe. You're making amazing progress."
With Y/N's unwavering support and Rafe's determination to overcome his anxieties, they were well on their way to a healthier and happier life together. They knew there would be challenges ahead, but as long as they faced them together, they believed they could conquer anything that came their way.
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leviismybby · 7 months
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"Break my bed.."
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Levi Ackerman x fem!reader
nsfw 18+, mdni, rough sex, filth as always
Levi was never much of a gentleman, he was never too good or too bad for people but he was perfect for you. He was everything you wanted, even in moments like these, where he is rough because he is mad, not at you, at the world. Often, he keeps his emotions to himself, that's not a good thing because when they pile up like this and explode....he loses control in pleasure.
Your moans echo through the room as Levi pounds roughly into your heat, your hips up in the air, face buried in the pillow. He enjoyed this sight of you, the love bites on your back, your sweaty skin and messy hair from overstimulation, Levi will never get enough of you. His hand pulls your hair harshly, he slaps your ass. "I love how obedient you are for me, good girl." He lets go of your hair and you fall back down onto the pillow.
"Fuck Levi! Slow down-" You beg as you feel your navel get tighter and tighter with each of his thrusts. "Slow down? You told me to break your bed and that's what I am going to do." You did tell him that but you didn't that he would actually be this committed in doing so. The strong grip on your hips isn't loosening, he starts to pound into you harder, faster, loving the whimpers that leave your lips.
Your hands grip the sheets, his cock is deep in you, you feel like your legs are about to give out but Levi holds you up by your hips, making sure you feel all of him. It won't be long before you'll read your peak and Levi knows it, his hips start to slow down exactly when they don't need to. "Cumming again hmm? Cute." You can hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice before he starts to fuck you in the same restless pace as before.
Just like he wanted, the bed starts to move with each slam of his hips, the creaking sound of wood reaches his ears only giving him more motivation. "There..I'll fuck you so hard. I will break it and then buy you a new one, princess" Oh the way his voice drops so low was enough to push you over the age, your pussy started to clench on him making Levi hiss. "Such a good cunt. So perfect." Despite his rough handling of you, he has to praise you, it wouldn't be fair otherwise.
"Mhh...mhhh cumming...Levi...I'm cumming.." You moan, biting into the pillow when his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, his cock pounding you faster than before. That was it, it's what took for your legs to start shaking and your stomach to turn inside out as you came on his length. "There you go, princess. Let me fill you up, you deserve it." His voice is almost whiney as he says it before cumming deep inside of you, his cum dripping put of your pussy down on the white sheets below.
But there's a problem, your bed is still intact and Levi can't have that, so he turns your body around, spreads your legs and gets in between them. "Another..round?" You pant breathlessly, unsure of why you even asked as Levi slams back into you without another word. "The fuck you think?" He says, thrusting inside of you as you're legs wrap around him.
Both of you are sweaty and the sheets are dirty but Levi doesn't care about the mess, not now. He takes your hands and pins your wrists above your head with one hand, his other hand holds your headband as he fucks you senseless. Your mouth is wide open, quiet moans of his name escaping them. Only Levi knows how to make you like this, fuck you so good that you can't even talk anymore.
The bed slammed against the wall with each of Levi's merciless snaps into your wetness. Your pussy was swollen and you felt a little sore but you didn't want him to stop, he makes you feel like you're on could nine. "Ohh fuck princess, you're getting tight.."
The sweat from his wet hair drips onto your skin, your eyes glued on the veins that are visible on his arm from how strong his grip on the headboard is. Letting go of your hands, he grabs the wood with his other hand too, making the bed shake under you even more.
You grab onto his hips as soon as your hands are free, passionately moving your hips with his. His thrusts have slowed down but they are still hard, your back arches when you feel him hit your cervix, the mixture of pain and pleasure creating the erotic feeling that will surely make you cum soon again.
"You're so fucking naughty aren't you, princess? Making me fuck you hard like this..." He looks at you as he moves, admiring your face which tells him that you're close. Your warm walls clamp down on him and Levi lets out a growl, he stops his movements for a second. "Remember..." He leans down a little closer, still holding onto the bed. "You asked for this."
He starts to fuck you so hard that his thrusts send shocks down your spine, the wood stats to crack, it's going to break soon if he doesn't stop and you know that he won't. Each of his snaps hit your deep spot, making you moan loudly. He has ever fucked you like this and you're far from complaining.
"I can't...Levi! I can't anymore!" You whine as your fingers scrape down his back, you feel his muscles under your fingertips. This is what you needed, it's what you asked for and you're getting it now. "Oh fuck yeah...cum for me princess, fucking cum for me.." And he doesn't have to say it twice as white pleasure washes all over your body and you cum again.
Levi doesn't stop moving, he is still going until the bed breaks beneath you both, the headboard he was holding on, cracked from his powerful grip. "Shit shit...oh fuck!" He moans as he fills you up with his seed, he fucks you through his orgasm until finally, falling on top of you.
"Damn..." You whisper as you trace his back with your fingertips. "You really did break my bed..."
"I told you already." He looks at you. "I'll always give you anything you ask for."
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Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @humanitys-strongest-bamf @romantichomicide95 @mrsackermannx @sixpennydame @svftackerman @hhighkey @cometlevi @notgoodforlife @levisbrat25 @randomlevithoughts @ackermendick @saenora @loveackermannn @levismylover @laurenzitaa @missyasma @sad-darksoul @thebobaprincess
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cdbabymp3 · 19 days
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𐙚chris' girl (intro) ― matt sturniolo
summary: matt has a not-so-innocent crush on chris' girlfriend
notes/warnings (pls read!!) : this series is going to be nsfw ! if u don't fw that, kindly, bye <3 reader is a popular influencer in la and lowkey oblivious but not really...you'll see lol, alcohol, partying, smoking, the whole nine yards honestly, buckle up...
*this is a work of FICTION, i don't think any of this would actually happen lmfao, it's just for fun! while chris and matt both like reader, there will be no incest shit whatsoever. you can 1000% miss me with that, thank youuu !
[unedited]
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it started off with little things every so often. there wasn't this big moment that made matt fall for her, it was more so a collection of interactions he thought back on before bed every night. these interactions, some innocent, some... not so much, plagued his mind. she was everywhere. in his head, in his car, in his house, on his couch. the smell of her vanilla perfume always lingered. he'd pretend to complain, but there was never an ounce of actual annoyance in his voice. it was almost visceral, the way his body reacted to merely thinking about these interactions.
like the time she came into his room for a towel before her and chris went to the hot tub. matt almost choked on his own saliva, the sight of her in the tiniest black bikini known to man, belly button piercing sparkling. the $300 vivienne westwood necklace chris gave her for her birthday dangled dangerously low in the valley of her full chest. matt couldn't speak, but how could he? all he could do was gulp and hand her the towel.
or that time when he was heading to his room for the night, but caught of glimpse of chris' cracked door. she sat on the edge of his, back to the door, slipping the straps of her pink bra back on. she turned her head slowly, as if she knew. but matt was quick to keep walking. did she know? did she want me to see her like that? these questions loomed around matt's mind, a constant battle of fighting what he actually saw versus what his fantasies made him believe. it was bad, that half-awake, half-asleep state of being that would nearly convince matt there was chance she had interest in him.
he could her voice saying his name over and over again.
"matt, matt, matt, matt...-MATT, WAKE THE FUCK UP!" chris interjected, throwing a pillow at matt's head. matt jolted up, gasping for air, chest heaving up and down.
"chris!" matt scowled at him, hand over his heart to make sure he was still alive after being in that much shock.
"ooooh, someone was having a good dream." chris teased, flicking on the lights, "c'mon, seriously, get up. i told y/n we'd pick her up on the way to the party." he mentioned casually, leaving the room to make sure nick was ready to leave as well.
the party. matt had completely forgot. fuck.
the drive to y/n's house was normal: matt drove, nick sat in the passenger seat texting different group chats to see who was coming to the party, and chris sat in the back middle on aux, per usual. maybe it was pathetic, but every time they picked up y/n, matt's stomach would get that light feeling right before you go on a massive roller coaster. he thought with time, it would go away. this had to be the 5th or 6th time they were picking her up, but the feeling in stomach proved no signs of lessening in the slightest. matt would just have to deal with it. he took a deep breath, slowly pulling into her driveway and turning down the music a bit. chris sent his usual "i'm here" text and it wasn't even two minutes later that y/n came strutting out. a pale pink, skin-tight dress that stopped barely after the curve of her ass adorned her body. her chunky black heels clicked against the pavement as she made her way to matt's car. she did a little wave at matt and nick through the driver's side window before opening the back door, chris holding out of hand to help her in.
once she closed the door, the vanilla wave of her perfume set in instantly, matt's grip on the wheel tightening.
"hi guys!" her honey voice beamed, adjusting her dress. "hi baby", giving chris a quick kiss on the cheek. his hand went to its usual spot on her inner thigh. and like usual, matt saw this in the rearview mirror, eyes darting from the sight to the gps directions back and forth, making sure chris' hand didn't travel any further. matt reversed the car, praying he could keep his emotions level for the 14 minute remainder of the drive
"you look soooo fucking good!" nick complimented, turning his upper body to face y/n, almost baffled by her beauty.
"yeah, you really do." chris chimed in, hand squeezing her thigh now. seeing this, matt 'accidentally' hit the brakes abruptly at the red light, causing chris' hand to leave her thigh.
"shit, sorry." matt apologized dryly
"matt, focus up! i swear to god, y/n could drive better in her 6 inch heels." chris jokes, and nick laughs, but y/n swats chris' arm.
"leave him alone." y/n rolls her eyes, digging in her purse for lipgloss.
matt tried so hard not to smirk, turning into the street where the party was happening and parking a couple houses down. the whole street was packed, luxury cars filled every available spot on the curb, beautiful people all heading to the biggest house on the block.
matt didn't register the moments before entering the house, mainly by choice. he hated watching chris always give her the sloppiest tongue kiss whenever they got out of the car. he hated the awkward walk up the street, y/n and chris walking in front of him, hand in hand, while he had to listen to nick's latest tangent.
once nick swung the door open, though, matt had no choice but to look alive. deafeningly loud rap struck matt's chest, the bass booming and buzzing throughout his whole body. y/n and chris went straight to get drinks and greet people like they always did. matt trailed loosely behind.
after a couple drinks, chris and y/n were the stars of the party. y/n body-rolled to the music, chris stood closely behind her, one hand on her hip and the other holding his solo cup in the air. everyone was dancing and having a good time, and then there was matt. he stood off to the side near the drink table, sipping root beer from the can, summoning the strength not to leave with every body-roll and swivel of y/n's hips against chris' groin. matt shook his head, frankly pissed off. chris always did that stupid thing where he pretended to act shocked by y/n's dancing as if they didn't go to parties together all the time. thankfully, matt's suffering was cut short when chris left y/n to get a refill. he walked up to the drink table, pouring himself a shot-sized amount of vodka into the cup, eyeing matt's muted disposition.
"y'know, matt, you could actually talk to people or have a good time here. no one's paying you to stand there like a fucking statue." chris threw his head back, downing the liquor.
"my stomach hurts." matt remarked flatly, sipping his root beer. to be fair, his stomach did actually hurt. the reason why, he couldn't tell his brother-or anyone, really.
"whatever." chris waved him off, leaving to talk with some friends in the other corner.
matt sighed, stomach in knots, the knots covered in thorns, the thorns injected with poison. maybe he should leave, just for a bit... tempting, but then he would lose his parking spot and god knows he wouldn't hear the end of it from nick. his thoughts are interrupted by a cloud of smoke wafting in his face. matt coughs as the cloud fades to reveals some random guy. as much as he tried, matt could not for the life of him keep up with what influencer was who.
to be polite, matt nodded at him, "hey, man."
"'sup." the guy reciprocated, taking another hit of from vape. his eyes traveled somewhere else after a moment, staring with his mouth agape. "jesus fucking christ.." he muttered in disbelief.
matt quirked an eyebrow, confused. turning his head to the direction the guy was looking. that confused dissipated in half a second. there she was. y/n in the middle of the crowd, shaking her ass and rotating her hips sensually. her hands slid down the curves her body to the cadence of the song playing. there were other pretty girls dancing around her, but no one could dance the way y/n did. even without intention, y/n had an innate talent for drawing people in.
"oh...yeah, she's-uh-" matt struggled with what to say that wouldn't blow his cover completely.
"please tell me she's single" the guy's eyes widen on y/n's body, his voice soaked in envy, "or is she your girl?"
matt's stomach filled with a new feeling. defeat. he could lie to the guy, sure. he could could say she was single, but to fuck off because he was about to make his move. or he could go a step further and proudly say she was his girl. he doubted the guy would question it. but it wasn't worth it. he was better than that. plus, he knew he'd feel even more pathetic for it later tonight.
"nah, man, " he took one last look at y/n in all her glory, before throwing his drink away. giving the guy a pat on the shoulder in solidarity, "she's chris' girl."
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new fic woooooo !!!! i'm excitedddd
this is just the intro, chp.1 will be up later !
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inou-ie · 5 months
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Pairing(s): Rahu and Shalom x female reader
Warnings: NSFW, transfem Rahu, transfem Shalom, double penetration, overstimulation, breeding, threesome, polyamory.
MDNI
Waking up with two women on either side of you, holding you tightly as if they're afraid to lose you, made you feel protected and loved. However, you couldn't deny the soreness in your body from being held tightly in that position throughout the night.
You groaned, attempting to sit up and free yourself from their grip, but it was to no avail. Rahu and Shalom held you tightly, and from the way they were embracing you, you could already discern which one aimed to protect you and which one desired to dominate you.
"Where are you going...?" Rahu opened her eyes, gently touching your cheek to turn your head and make you look at her. "Bathroom? I could come with you." she suggested before sitting up. She released her hold on you to stretch her limbs.
However, the moment Rahu let go of you, a pair of arms tightly wrapped around your waist. "What's this? Are you paying more attention to her?" you heard Shalom whisper near your ear, pulling you closer towards her body.
You couldn't help but chuckle when Rahu tried to snatch you away, only for Shalom to steal a kiss from your cheek, looking at Rahu with a teasing grin.
"You..." Rahu growled lowly, quickly kissing your cheek as well before glaring at Shalom.
"What? It's not like you couldn't do the things I did." Shalom said, her gentle smile never leaving her face.
It was an everyday occurrence. They were like a loyal and protective dog, one who wanted to keep you all to herself, and a mischievous and graceful cat, one who sought to claim you as her own.
They both knew there was nothing to fight about because you loved them both equally. Still, they couldn't help but vie for your love and affection.
The only thing they could agree on was their desire to make you feel good and happy. Even though they argue while they pleasure you, they share the same goal: to make you feel like you're on cloud nine.
One of the things you find amusing is when Rahu and Shalom make you toss a coin. If it lands on tails, then it'll be Shalom who gets to fill you up first; if it's heads, it'll be Rahu.
Their faces while they wait for you are truly adorable, filled with anticipation and excitement... completely different when they have you writhing and whimpering while they're deep inside you.
You watched them closely, their gazes following the movement of your hands as you tossed the coin in the air. The moment it landed in your hand, they moved closer to get a better look.
"It's… tails." you said, showing the coin to them. If Rahu had a tail, it would be drooping to the ground now, making her look like a puppy who had been accidentally kicked.
Shalom chuckled, wrapping her arms around your neck from behind as she looked at Rahu. "Too bad, huh?" Shalom said in a teasing tone, sticking her tongue out, which made Rahu frown. "Don't tease her too much…" you told Shalom, but she just shrugged.
"Alright, let's get you ready." Shalom is quick to remove your clothes, her hands were gentle but you could feel the desperation in her touches. While Rahu moved behind you, making you rest your back against her body while she embraces you.
Shalom started to remove her clothing, one by one, slowly... making sure to maintain eye contact with you. Your gaze quickly shifted towards her erection, and oh how big she is... makes you wonder how can such thing even fit inside of you.
"You ready?" Shalom asked, her hands gently caressing the soft flesh of your thighs before spreading them slowly to reveal your already wet cunt.
As you mumble a barely audible "...ready." she lifts your chin with her finger and commands, "Eyes on me first." Your gaze remains locked onto hers as she moves even closer, bringing her length right up against your soaking wet heat.
"Open your mouth." she whispered softly, her gentle smile guiding you into submission. Without hesitation, you obey and open your mouth wide for her as she leans closer. Her tongue swiftly darts into your mouth, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.
As Shalom's tongue slowly explores your mouth, she teases your clit with the tip of her cock. The gentle pressure against it causes your toes to curl and hips to buck in search of more contact.
The tip of her cock gently crushing your clit, Shalom's hold on you tightens. Rahu's hands find their way to your breasts, fondling them gently as she begins to bite and lick your earlobe before pushing her tongue in. The combination of sensations is almost too much for you to handle, causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure.
Shalom and Rahu's teasing leaves you trembling with anticipation. When Shalom finally pulls away, a string of saliva connects the two of you as your breathing becomes ragged. Tears form in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure they have given you.
Shalom purred, "So adorable... we haven't even started yet." She gave you one last kiss on the lips before holding your thighs apart and keeping you still with Rahu's help. "You're already dripping wet." she said as her cockhead ran along your wet folds, causing your body to shudder in anticipation.
"Please, hurry..." you mumble, offering yourself to her completely. Shalom aligned her cock in front of your entrance and slowly began to penetrate you. The feeling of her thick length pressing against your tight pussy is almost too much for you to handle as she finally pushed all the way inside.
As you felt yourself being stretched by Shalom's cock, your back arched slightly. Rahu held onto you tighter and leaned in to place soft kisses on your neck before nibbling gently at your flesh. The pressure of Rahu's cock bulging through her pants against your back adds another layer of excitement for you.
"You're so cute..." Rahu whispered in your ear, her voice filled with anticipation. She carefully undid her pants to free her throbbing cock, which was already leaking precum. Shifting positions, she positioned herself near your face as she pleaded silently for you to take her cock deep into your mouth.
As Shalom begins to thrust inside of you in a steady rhythm, your hand reaches out and grasps Rahu's cock. The moment your skin makes contact, Rahu groans loudly and her hips buck forward. Her eyes plead with you for more as she begs for you to take her entire length into your throat.
As you open your mouth wide enough to take Rahu's cock inside, she lets out a soft groan. You begin by swirling your tongue around the head before slowly taking her entire length into your mouth before starting to suck on it eagerly.
Shalom watches intently as she speeds up her thrusts, hitting deeper and deeper inside of you with each stroke. "Pay attention to me too..." Shalom's hand squeezes your breast roughly, causing you to moan muffled sounds around Rahu's cock.
"She's taking us so well," Shalom says, looking at Rahu. "I bet she can take more." Rahu nods in agreement as her eyes never leave yours. "You know how to stop us when it gets too much for you, right?" She asks softly, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Feeling reassured by your nod, Rahu begins thrusting her hips harder into your mouth while still maintaining care not to hurt or overwhelm you. Her hand fixes your hair gently before moving down to caress the side of your face lovingly.
Meanwhile, Shalom continues to drive deep inside of you with steady rhythm, the sensation of being taken so carefully and intimately by both women is exhilarating beyond words.
The room is filled with the lewd, wet sounds of your mouth sucking on Rahu's cock and the squelching sounds of Shalom's entire length sliding in and out of your pussy. The slapping of flesh against flesh echoes through the air.
You start to tear up from the overwhelming pleasure as Rahu's cock throbs against the back of your throat, causing you to gulp down all the precum that leaks out. Shalom grabs both your arms and pulls you closer to her as she starts pounding into you.
As Shalom takes control, her hips buck wildly against yours, accelerating her thrusts deep inside of you. You can't help but let go of Rahu's cock momentarily as Shalom's cockhead presses against your cervix in every powerful stroke. Rahu notices this immediately and holds onto your head firmly while shoving her entire length back into your mouth.
Rahu's voice is full of desire and desperation as she mumbles, "Just a little more..." Her hand tightens on the back of your head to keep you in place while Shalom's cock bulges out in your stomach with every powerful thrust.
Your cries of pleasure are muffled by Rahu's cock as both women reach their climaxes at the same time, filling you with their essence. Thick ropes of cum flow down your throat from Rahu while Shalom buries her entire length deep inside of you, pressing against your cervix and filling every inch of your womb with her seed.
"You're so good..." Rahu praises as she holds onto your head tightly for a moment before releasing it slowly, allowing some air to enter your lungs after she's filled you so fully. She watches as Shalom continues thrusting her hips hard against yours, pressing her cock deeper and harder against your cervix, pushing all of her cum into every corner of your womb.
Your eyes lock onto Rahu's throbbing cock, wet with a mixture of her cum and your saliva. The urge to clean it off overtakes you as you lean forward instinctively, taking her cock back into your mouth once more. You suck on it hard enough for Rahu to let out a deep groan of pleasure.
Shalom pants heavily, her thrusts slowing down and eventually stopping completely. She remains buried deep inside of you for just a few more moments longer – savoring the feeling of being so deeply connected with you in every possible way.
Shalom smirks down at you with satisfaction, her chest still heaving from the exertion. "Good girl," she praises softly as she carefully pulls out of your pussy. "Did it feel good?"
Your pussy grips around Shalom's cock deliciously as it finally releases its hold on you, leaving behind a trail of her cum. You let go of Rahu's cock with a satisfied pop before speaking up, "It was amazing." As Rahu's cum trickles down your chin, Shalom leans in close to wipe it away softly for you.
"We're not done yet... I still have my turn to fill you up." Rahu quickly helps you sit up and then easily lifts your entire body weight onto her lap so that you're sitting down on top of her.
Your pussy rubs against Rahu's cock teasingly as it continues to throb and leak pre-cum beneath you. You lean forward slightly, offering yourself more fully to her.
Rahu's arms wrap around you tightly as she lays back slowly, holding onto your body close to her chest. "Ride me?" she asks in a pleading tone, causing you to laugh softly at her eagerness.
"Please..." Rahu adds with an endearing blush on her cheeks, her hips bucking upwards to rub her cock against your folds teasingly.
"Of course, how can I refuse you?" You lean against Rahu's shoulder for support as she holds her cock still, allowing you to sink down onto it slowly. Her low growl of pleasure fills the room when your wet pussy easily surrounds and engulfs her thick length.
Rahu's hands reach up towards yours, interlocking your fingers tightly together. Her hips buck upwards slightly in response to the sensation, urging you deeper onto her cock with each thrust. You feel yourself opening up more fully around her girth, welcoming every inch of her into your core as if it were made specifically for her.
As you lose yourself in the pleasure of riding Rahu's cock, a pair of hands snake around your waist from behind. Shalom whispers into your ear, "Aren't you forgetting about me?" She gently pushes on you, making you bend down slightly so that your breasts are pressing against Rahu's chest and your ass is now presented to her temptingly.
"Can you take us both?" Shalom asks with a teasing grin as she begins caressing your ass gently, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. Her fingers trail up and down your crack, spreading your cheeks open wider for her inspection. You feel her hot breath against your sensitive skin before you suddenly feel something blunt and hard pressing against your entrance from behind.
"Shalom, wai– ah..nggh!" Your eyes go wide with surprise at the sudden intrusion as Shalom slowly starts pushing her own cock inside of you from behind – stretching you out further than ever before.
You can't see Shalom's face, but you just know she must be grinning widely down at the sight of both her and Rahu taking turns filling your body completely.
Rahu holds onto you tightly against her chest, not letting go even as she thrusts powerfully inside of you in perfect sync with Shalom behind you. Her cock hits all the right spots inside of you, sending waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through every nerve ending in your body. As for Shalom, each thick inch that disappears into your ass is met with a moan from deep within her throat.
Your pussy grips around Rahu's cock tightly while your ass clenches greedily onto Shalom's invading length. It feels like being filled up by two impossibly large and hard members at once.
As Rahu continues to thrust into your pussy, her breathing becomes more labored and she lets out a deep moan of pleasure. "So good," she mutters between ragged gasps for air. "So tight..."
Meanwhile, Shalom's cock inside you feels like it's hitting every single one of your sensitive nerves as she takes advantage of the position to grind against your ass cheeks with each powerful thrust. Her free hand finds its way down to play with your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight from your core to every inch of your body.
As Rahu continues to thrust into your pussy with all her might, her tongue circles around your nipple before she finally takes it into her mouth, sucking on it with such intensity that you feel like you might float away from the sensation. Your entire body feels like it's melting under their combined assault.
You don't know how much longer you can hold out as Rahu continues to thrust powerfully inside of you while Shalom pistons in and out of your ass, claiming every last bit of your attention for themselves.
Your voice is barely a whisper as you find yourself on the brink of orgasm. "Too much..." you murmur hoarsely, your soft whimpers filling the room now that your loud moans have subsided.
Rahu's tongue flicks against one of your nipples while Shalom pinches and rolls your clit between her fingers – each touch sending shivers down your spine. Their pace doesn't slow even for a moment.
Shalom's voice is hushed, almost a murmur against your skin. "Shh... you can take it." Her thrusts grow deeper and harder as she matches Rahu's pace, pushing both of you closer to the edge.
And then finally – with one last powerful push from behind – Shalom finds her own release inside of you while Rahu follows suit moments later. Their combined moans fill the room as their hot seed spills into and around your body in a thick, sticky mess.
Your body feels completely filled to the brim with their combined weight and presence as Shalom pins you between her own body and Rahu's. You can feel every inch of them against your skin, from their chests pressed against yours all the way down to where they're still buried deep inside of you.
Just as you thought they were done, Rahu held your head still with one hand, burying it in the crook of her neck while the other kept you pressed against her body. Shalom, on the other hand, kept her hands around your hips. It felt overwhelmingly good when they resumed their pounding into your holes.
This time, their movements became more intense. Losing themselves as they started slamming their hips in ecstasy as they enjoy the sounds of your moans and cries. It's as if they were racing towards their climax using your holes, yet you still found yourself enjoying every moment of it.
Your body unconsciously tries to get away from the overwhelming pleasure, but Rahu and Shalom hold onto you tightly. They continue pounding into you like two animals in heat as their loud groans and your moans fill the room.
You grit your teeth, trying your best to keep up with them both. Every inch of you is stretched taut around their cocks; it feels like being taken by a pair of wild beasts whose only goal is to claim you completely for themselves.
"Fuck..." your voice trembles along with your body as you let out a hoarse cry, overwhelmed by the intense sensations coursing through every inch of you. You can barely form the word as Rahu's cock pulverizes your womb again and again – filling it up to bursting point with her thick seed while Shalom's invading length continues to stretch and fill your ass greedily from behind.
Shalom leans back slightly to get a better view of your body trembling and shaking as you lie flatly on Rahu's chest, unable to move an inch anymore. Rahu stares down at your fucked out face with an expression that mixes tenderness with pride.
"How cute..." Rahu murmurs softly before adding with a laugh, "If you keep being this adorable, we'll just keep going for the whole day and night if that's what it takes."
At the mention of more pleasure, Shalom quickly interjects, "That's exactly what she wants. Let's give it to her." She grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head back so that both women can see clearly into your eyes – searching for any sign of discomfort or pain. But there is none; instead all they find reflected back at them is your satisfied expression, eyes asking for more.
As Shalom lets go of your hair, you collapse back onto Rahu's chest with a contented sigh. Rahu quickly pat your head lovingly before leaning down to place a soft kiss against it – as if she hadn't just filled every inch of your womb with her cum.
"There, there..." Rahu murmurs soothingly. "We'll give you more... much more." She promises, her voice full of unwavering commitment towards satisfying all of your desires.
While Shalom planted soft kisses against your back, you could still feel their cocks throbbing inside of you – a reminder that neither woman intends to stop anytime soon but you could tell they're holding back to give you comfort from how roughly they treated you earlier.
"How about I join Rahu inside this tight little hole of yours?" Shalom's sudden suggestion echoes in the room as she slowly pulls out of your ass, leaving it gaping and leaking her cum steadily. Her eyes then drift down to observe how tightly your pussy grips onto Rahu's throbbing cock.
Rahu's voice holds a note of concern as she shakes her head slightly, replying to Shalom's suggestion. "I don't think she can handle that..." Despite her words, you felt Rahu's cock twitch inside you. You knew how much she wants to try it as well.
Shalom grabbed your hair once again. As she pulls back your head, her other hand rubbing soothingly against the side of your face. "I'm not asking you, Rahu..." She starts off teasingly before adding with a sultry chuckle, "I'm asking our beautiful girl right here... So, want to try? Don't you want to feel us both inside your tight little pussy?" Her words send shivers down your spine and between your legs.
Shalom's eyes light up with anticipation at your nod of consent, her own smile widening into something predatory yet somehow endearing all at once. "Good girl..." She coos softly against your ear.
With that, they both promised to be gentle with you... but the moment they felt how tight you were around them, they immediately went wild. Slamming their cocks into you alternately, making you scream and cry out in pleasure as they took turns hitting your cervix. You were so stuffed full of them that all you could do was pant for air while drooling from the sheer ecstasy of it all.
"...more... so good..." you whispered, your voice carrying the passion and desire in it. They fucked you for hours on end, only changing positions when Rahu picked you up in her strong arms while they continued thrusting into you deeply. All thoughts were driven from your mind as you sobbed in pleasure, your head resting on Rahu's shoulder, biting her hard when it gets too overwhelming. Despite their ferocity, they made sure to comfort you with praises and soft kisses throughout, making you feel exhausted yet satisfied.
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abibliophobiaa · 27 days
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falling like the stars, falling in love
eddie Munson x f!reader. unrequited steve harrington x reader. unrequited eddie munson x nancy wheeler. steve harrington x nancy wheeler.
summary: you’re fifteen when you fall in love with your best friend, and twenty-one when it all falls apart. eddie munson is there to pick up the pieces of your heart, and you’re there to gather his. but both of you get more than you ever bargained for when your silly friends with benefits arrangement becomes complicated. but such is the nature of love. (15k words).
warnings: 18+, smut, loss of virginity (r), friends with benefits, codependent (maybe toxic) relationships, angst, unrequited love, heartbreak, second chance romance, drinking, mentions of recreational smoking…but i promise a happy ending.
——
The sun shines the next morning.
There’s comfort in knowing it always does, even if the day that came before was one of the hardest you ever faced.
A new page, a turning point, and maybe a new beginning.
It’s all you hope for.
You lean against the wooden beams of the lake house, overlooking Lover’s Lake. Birds chirp in the trees, leaves shift to and fro, the water ripples and shudders, a child giggles near the dock, a mother calls out to another running in the grass.
A blanket covers your form, the chill of the morning air spreading gooseflesh along your arms.
Your body aches in places, a lovely kind of ache. An ache from his fingers along your skin, his lips at your mouth, his hips between your thighs.
An ache from being loved thoroughly.
A living, breathing, comforting thing.
“Are you okay?”
It’s a soft whisper against your ear. You hum gently as he draws nearer.
His hands circle your waist. Your fingers brush over the backs of his forearms. Familiar.
The heat of his chest rests at your back. Your body slumps into his, a new comfort to be found there.
His chest is still bare, hair still a mess. But when you turn in his arms and take him in you find you like it. Tousled and unkempt by your hands, his eyes peering down at yours soft and sweet and warm.
Uniquely him. You love those eyes. Could spend forever falling into them. A long time, a lifetime, but spending it beside him is the greatest gift you could ever long for.
And the greatest gift you’ve ever received.
The answer isn’t simple.
Then again, none of this has ever been.
——
It starts when you’re fifteen.
Silly teenagers with nothing but dreams and fantasies.
No thoughts or cares in the world, other than what clothes to wear, what part time job you want to work, who you’re interested in and who likes you back.
Silliness.
Triviality that, if you look back on it now, wish you could get back.
Steve Harrington is perfect. He’s your best friend. The first person you met when you moved to Hawkins at nine years of age. He’s charming and on the school baseball and basketball teams.
He’s liked by most, but to him you are special.
Best friends, in the way that always brings a smile to your face because you know it’s the forever kind.
Permanent in the way the scar on your knee is, from the day you and Steve raced across the pool yard after hours, outrunning Hopper, and you’d cut it when hopping the fence in your efforts to get away.
You’re fifteen and Steve’s body is changing a bit. He’s fuller than you remember, honed by hours of working out, of skin tanned from endless hours in the summer sun. He’s always been handsome, but that summer he just seemed different.
You’re fifteen and you’re reading a book, left propped open between the circle of your thighs as he calls your name and you lift yourself up to sit, taking in the boy treading water in the pool.
His hair is a wet mess. Little droplets clinging to the ends of his hair, his long lashes. He’s grinning at you — a pearly white smile that has your heart twirling in your chest.
You shove it away, because it has been doing that for months now. It’s a new side effect with him. A sickness you’ve never felt before. Some might call it love, and you groan, shoving your finger in your mouth when your friends tease you about it because ‘he’s my best friend’ and ‘that’ll never happen.’
But you don’t know what else to call that annoying fluttery feeling in your belly when he draws near. Nor can you stop the pitter patter of your heart when he looks your way.
It’s inconvenient, troubling, and it’s a crush.
A silly crush that’ll go away. These things always do.
Don’t they?
And maybe that’s a foolish thought. You certainly think so when he teases you to come on in. Warns that the water is warm.
You hesitate on the hem of your tee shirt. You don’t know why, because he’s seen you in bathing suits before, but lately even this feels different. You want him to look at you the way he looks at the girls at school, and yet you also don’t want him to look at all, because if he looks he might see all your imperfections. Might see something he doesn’t like, and for some reason you hate that even more.
Because you want him to like you, to like all of you, to want you in the way you know you want him.
You’re fifteen and you’re swimming in a pool with your best friend. Your boy who also happens to be your friend. Never a boyfriend.
Never that.
You’re fifteen and you splutter out how you turned down a date with Brendan Abbott because, “I’ve never been kissed.”
“Really?” Steve asks, and he sounds genuinely surprised. And before you can even question the curiosity in his voice, he adds, “I just mean…you’re pretty. I bet loads of guys want to kiss you.”
Not the one that matters, though, you think to yourself.
Steve’s kissed dozens of girls, you know. You know because he’s told you, his cheeks staining a pretty pink. He always goes pink like that, and you always smile back, despite that odd pain that wedges its way between your ribs.
Heartache you think, but again, you’ll never put a name to it.
“I could kiss you, you know?” he suggests. And he’s red again in the face, quickly spluttering, “I mean, your first kiss should be with someone special, right?”
Steve’s the most special.
So you’re fifteen and he’s wading over to you in the pool. He cups your cheek and looks you in the eye. There’s a heartbeat and he’s kissing you. Soft, sweet, simple. It doesn’t linger long. Doesn’t give you enough time to feel like fireworks are exploding in the sky. But it’s enough to set something into motion.
Something terrible, really.
Because you’re fifteen and you’re in love — and maybe you’ll always be.
——
You’re nineteen when you meet Eddie.
A glass bottle to the man you love’s throat. He’s there in an instant, terror in his eyes, and you shriek at the suddenness of it. His eyes flash and you recognize him.
You had…a class before with him.
Can’t recall which.
You know him, of course.
Everyone knows Eddie Munson. Maybe not for all good reasons — and at this moment, it’s the worst reason. Because you’ve been looking for him for hours, trying to figure out what in the hell happened to Chrissy.
He looks like a deer in headlights. A terrified human searching for comfort when the world has grown cold.
He recalls what he saw.
Her body, broken. The way she hovered up on the ceiling. The way her eyes were ripped from her body. It’s gruesome and horrible and you curl a hand around his forearm when you notice he’s trembling. A shiver that only someone who has seen death head on knows. You’d seen it before, when Billy died the summer before that.
So you offer him that. A hand for comfort, as he recounts the worst day of his life, and you realize the newest worst day of yours.
It ends up being a long few days. You spend them hoping you’ll all get out alive, and in the process you find a friend in him. He’s charismatic and frenetic, he’s funny and he’s dramatic and he’s handsome in a rugged way that Steve isn’t.
And he notices the way you stare at Steve. Offers you a hand of comfort as you all trek into the Upside Down. You take it, and it feels like a new friendship.
Neither of you speaks, but it feels like an understanding.
——
At twenty, Steve’s halfway in love with Nancy all over again. You’re used to this. Steve has fallen in love with what feels like all of Hawkins — all except you. Neither of you speaks about that. You’ll never bring it up to him, can’t fathom the idea of shattering years of friendship.
But there’s something different about this time. The way he talks about her and how things are going. He’s dreaming of his future. Talking about kids. His Winnebago. About a future that suddenly seems like it’s hurtling towards you, while you’re seemingly stuck in place in the past.
It chokes you. The idea of him and her. Her and him and their six children he tells you about. Traveling all around the world, making memories, starting a new life.
He never talks like this and it terrifies you.
“I’m sure he’s just being his usual self,” Robin says, “diving in and hoping he doesn’t sink. You know how things were with him and Nancy before.”
“This feels different, Rob.” You huff and you whine and she offers you another beer and a look of sympathy you know means she’s really just doing her best.
There are few people in this world who know how deep your feelings run for your best friend. Those quite literally being her and Eddie Munson. And you plan on keeping it that way until the day you die.
Even so, it still hurts the next weekend when you’re all over Eddie’s new government funded apartment for a game night. Nancy gets up to leave and Steve offers to drive her home. And though you offer to clean the dishes for Eddie in the kitchen, it’s not an innocent offer by any means, because you watch them through the curtains.
Don’t know why you do. It stings. Burns in your eyes fiercely as you watch him lean down to kiss her. Watch how his hand slides down her back and into the pocket of her jeans, the way their bodies fit together like they’re made to, how he holds her close like she’s everything to him. Just like he’s everything to you.
“You’re only screwing over yourself by doing that,” Eddie murmurs from behind you, a dish towel hanging over his shoulder. He holds out a hand as you swipe at the tears gathering on your cheeks, and you hand him a plate to dry down.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff, sponge running over the glass. “Plus you’re one to talk.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” He shakes his head with a scoff, moving around you to put a plate away.
“I don’t?” you ask, eyes narrowing.
“No.”
There’s a day you remember vividly. All of you at Lover’s Lake. You, freshly out of the water after Steve tackled you off the dock at the end of your family’s lake home and the two of you ended up splashing at one another for an hour.
He sat by Nancy around the fire after and you opened the screen door to find Eddie leaning over the back porch railing with a beer in his hand. He watched her like one would watch a movie. Her every move, each smile that curled her lips, holding onto her every word like he might memorize them all. The lilt, the cadence, the tone.
In a moment, you recalled all the times you’d seen them together prior. His best friend, he proclaimed. And maybe it was in the way Steve was your best friend. The other half of your soul. Your person. But you also saw the hurt reflected there in Eddie’s gaze whenever she stared at Steve.
Because while Eddie always stared at Nancy, Nancy always stared at Steve.
“It sucks when you’re always looking at them, but they never look at you back,” you laugh miserably, handing him a glass cup, back in his kitchen, “right?”
He looks away.
He doesn’t speak after that.
Good, you think.
Conversation over.
——
It carries on like that.
Pining.
Wanting.
Waiting.
Loving him while you watch him love another.
But you suppose it’s not all bad — that there is some solace in this world you’re destined to walk.
There’s comfort in the kids. In watching them flourish. In your friendships. There are milestones. When you graduate from your community college program and move into your first apartment. Steve, with a ball cap on his head, arms toned as they hug your boxes. Eddie behind him, his hair pulled back into a ponytail.
They’ve grown closer over time, best of friends who scare similar scars. Kindred, in a sick sort of way they never should have been, simply because sometimes the world is cruel.
Eddie looks at you and you look at him and there’s a smolder of something between you, a promise for when everyone else heads home for the night.
That’s a newer development, too.
This…pseudo relationship with Eddie. A space between being together and not. In knowing each other’s bodies in a way that most friends don’t.
And maybe it’s wrong. The way you twine together some nights like vines. Him stumbling through the door after the sun goes down over Hawkins — because no one knows about this secret dalliance — and rushing across your living room to grasp your face in his hands. To kiss you soundly and drag you down onto the floor, ridding you of your clothes, your underwear, his mouth seeking your center like he’s starving for air.
You’re not really sure when it starts.
Sure, there’s always been an attraction there, but it’s always been something you don’t really dwell on, because Steve is the true paramour of your affection.
And you see the way Eddie watches Nancy.
Right?
But Eddie is kind and loving and he adores you in a way that feels sort of like running toward a cliff and jumping without a parachute.
You always know he’ll catch you. Don’t really know when he became that person for you. The one who you trust wholly and completely.
Yet if you think really hard about it, you’d say it started on your twenty-first birthday. After a strong drink and plenty of dancing at the bar. Steve grabbed your hand and twirled you around. Swayed and bobbed to the music and you grabbed his hand and tugged him outside. And maybe it was the little bit of alcohol you consumed and liquid courage granted by it, but you pushed him up against the side of a lamppost and kissed him.
When you think about it now, you want to cry, but in the moment it felt right.
He spluttered and gasped and you knew you’d made a mistake. Watched the way sadness creeped into his eyes, the awareness dawning on him.
Someone barked out a laugh, yourself maybe. Him. You weren’t sure. But it sounded disbelieving. Years and years of unspoken words spilled out like ink onto a blank sheet of paper. Left there to rot. And he stared — stared at you with a hurt in his eyes that ripped you down the middle. Because you knew he couldn’t return it, knew in an instant that he didn’t love you in the way that you wanted him to.
Not in the way that he loved Nancy.
Nancy. Perfect Nancy with the perfect hair and the perfect mind and the perfect life. Nancy, who was beautiful and stunning and wonderful and inspiring — and why wouldn’t someone love her? She was your friend, a good one at that, and a girl that any guy would want to be with.
Nancy, who you knew was the one meant for Steve, even if admitting that to yourself felt like a knife wedging its way into your gut.
“Honey…” he trailed and his voice broke. An aching, shattering thing that mimicked what was going on inside your chest.
Tiny, little shards. Little ruby glitter in the cavity that once housed a beating organ.
“It’s silly, right?” You laughed again. A hollow sound. A grieved cry that had Steve reaching for your forearm, trying to hold you together. “I've loved you since I was fifteen.”
“You’re drunk…”
“I’m not,” you argued. If anything, you felt stone cold sober now.
It didn’t change anything. Didn’t make it any less true. Maybe it was how Steve coped with it. Blaming it on too many drinks, emotions running high, your lives changing at a rate neither of you saw coming.
“Is everything okay out here?” Eddie stood on the sidewalk, watching from a distance, ready to step in if he needed to.
He did that often. Sought you out. Made sure you were okay. Watched your back as you watched his. There was always an awareness there that both of you held toward one another. An unspoken thing. Special still.
“Just…a moment?” Steve asked, and Eddie looked your way. Waited until you nodded it was, in fact, okay before he slipped back inside the bar and left you alone with your heartbreak. “You’re my best friend. I love you, but I —”
“Don’t love me, love me,” you finished for him.
Felt your lip wobbling, felt Steve’s arms as they wrapped around you, tugged you into a solid chest. You heaved out a loud sob, the kind that had him clutching you tighter, one hand at the back of your head to keep your forehead pressed into the hollow of his throat. Kept you hidden as you weeped, just like he knew you preferred it.
Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Kind of left it like there, open in the air, the understanding that you loved him and he didn’t love you, and it hurt every time you thought about it — every time you reminded yourself that you’d worn your heart on your sleeve and watched it fall to the ground.
Everyone left in separate cars. Robin with her girlfriend, Steve with Nancy, Jonathan with Argyle, leaving you to clamber on into Eddie’s car. Both of you had sobered up enough, dawning clarity breaking like the sunrise.
Eddie turned to you when you pulled up to your parent’s house. Looked at you with a sympathy that made you draw the hoodie you pulled on over your dress closer to your body, wanting to shrink away from him. Make yourself smaller, if only to hide from the emotions warring in your mind.
“Did something happen tonight?” He asked, his voice soft.
You tugged at a stray lint on your thigh, rolled it between your fingers, shrugged a bit. “I kissed Steve.”
“Shit,” he breathed out, unbuckling his seatbelt. Leaned back into his seat, finger running through his hair.
“And then I told him I loved him,” you added, head shaking as you laughed pitifully.
His head shifted on the headrest, eyes taking in your downturned lips. “I take it that didn’t go well?”
Another huff of a laugh. “He said ‘I love you, but…’”
“Fuck,” he said, hand reaching over the center console to rest on your thigh. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
He always called you sweetheart. You noticed he called things he held dear to his heart that. His guitar, Max, El, Erica. Nancy. Robin. And most recently, you. So it shouldn’t have warmed your heart, but it did. Twisted something low in your belly, a warm, unfurling sort of thing.
The next words spilled out of you in a rush. Set into motion the course of the next several years. “Do you want to come upstairs? You’ll have to be quiet. I just…don’t want to be alone.”
“I—I…yeah?”
The offer was to talk. To find comfort in another human. Because you hadn’t even thought about sex. Hadn’t had sex in your twenty-one years. Not because you were holding onto your virginity or anything, but because you just hadn’t felt comfortable enough yet to do so. And it wasn’t like you invited him up there for that. It started out innocently enough. Him following closely behind you through your home, slipping up your stairs, fingers laced together. An anticipation hummed in your blood, a tremble of uncertainty in the way he stood there in your bedroom, not moving from the door once you closed it behind the two of you. He seemed so large in your childhood bedroom. Hair a mess on his head, in the way it always was, charmingly so. His hands slipped into his tight jeans, the gesture making his black tee stretch taut over his chest.
A dress still clung to your body after you removed your jacket. Something flowing and pretty that you picked out with Robin the week before. It suddenly felt sticky and tight on your body, and with a nervous glance, Eddie caught your hint and turned around to face the door. Tapped his fingers against his thigh as you undressed and slipped on something more comfortable. A simple pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee shirt.
“You can sit on my bed, you know?” You had sat back down against the headboard, the wood littered with endless pillows and a stuffed penguin that Steve had gotten you at a fair one summer.
In a fearful effort to rid yourself of the evidence of your stuffed friend, you lifted it in your hand and raised an arm to toss it into your closet when Eddie launched himself down onto your mattress with a thump and snatched it out of your grip.
“I don’t sleep with that, or anything…” Heat flooded your cheeks, because why did you care if he knew you actually did sleep with the silly thing, if only to keep the nightmares from the Upside Down away?
“It’s cute,” he murmured to himself, ringed fingers tight around the black and white toy. Sounded genuine and you didn’t doubt him; never did, truly. “Got a name for it?”
“Pip the Penguin,” you said quietly, so quietly.
“I like it…” Suddenly, he changed his voice, warping it into something an octave higher than his usual tone. Bopped the fluffy creature against your forehead, making you laugh. Pretended to talk with the thing and said, “Mr. Pip the Penguin wants you to turn that frown upside down. Because you’re so fucking beautiful when you smile.”
“Pip the Penguin doesn’t curse,” you admonished, plucking him from Eddie’s hands and placing him onto your bedside table. And then, softer still, “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Always,” he promised, and you rolled over onto your side to look at him, to really take in your best friend’s features. “I’m sorry your birthday is shot to hell.”
“It’s not,” you admitted, reaching over to run your fingers along the rings flush against his knuckles, “I’m spending it with you.”
“For what it’s worth,” he said, holding your hand in his and pausing your movements, thumb running across your skin, “you’re great and deserve the world. Anyone who can’t see that is kind of an idiot. Sorry, Harrington.”
You level him with a ‘you’re kidding me’ look.
“I’m serious,” he added, smiling a bit. “I mean, you play guitar like a beast. I don't know many girls who do that. Definitely metal. You’re fun to be around, really cool, definitely would smoke with.”
You had. Numerous times. “Eddie.”
“Maybe a little bit of a shit driver —”
“Eddie!” You shrieked a giggle, clutching his hand tighter.
“I said 'a little bit’” he teased, pushing back a hair that fell into your eyes. “Did you forget that time I had to try and shove your car out of the mud?”
“Yeah, but it was you who told me to turn onto that side road in that rain storm.”
“It was still a fun day, though.”
You sat in your car for hours, rain splattering against the window, waiting for a tow truck. The boy beside you, hair wet from the rain, his shirt clinging to his body. His chest rising and falling with the effort, the cloudy sky and the way he reminded you of sunshine even still. Remembered the way he looked at you, all soft around the edges, that little dimple in his cheek. So handsome it had made your chest ache with it — kind of like how it was then.
“It was,” you agreed softly.
Neither of you slept that night in your bedroom. Instead you talked until the sun started to rise over Hawkins, a quiet something glimmering in the spaces between the two of you. It didn’t have a name yet, no wings to give it flight, but there was something new there nonetheless. You talked about everything and nothing. Dreams, wants, fears. Silly thoughts that sprang to life in your mind, and he was a perfect listener — nodded and laughed and was wholly engaged in you, and you in him.
And you don’t think about Steve once, the ache of rejection dulling to a sweet nothingness.
“Wanna watch a movie?” It was asked after some time, when the nervousness of where you wanted the rest of your morning to go creeped in after your parents called upstairs that they were headed off to work, leaving you alone with the boy they didn’t know was in your bed.
He held you like that. On your bed, arms around your waist from behind as colors flashed across the television screen. Both of you were quiet for a long time. No words said, nothing to say really, until you rolled back over and looked up into his umber eyes. Wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t have to wonder for long, though; he leaned in, nudged his nose against yours, cupped your cheek. Asked you if ‘this was okay.’ A nod, and you sank into the mattress at that first brush of his mouth over yours, at the way your heart fluttered, something sparkly and beautiful flashing behind your eyes. He held you like that, kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck. Fingers tentatively explored as you sighed and hummed against him, over the slope of your neck, the curve of your shoulder, the line of your collarbone. And then, with a gentle touch, he brushed a thumb along your ribcage, beneath a breast.
Testing, asking for permission.
“I didn’t come up here to hook up,” he said, but it was muffled by your lips against his, an eagerness drowning out his words.
“I know.”
“I…do really think you’re beautiful.” You tugged at the hem of his shirt, helped him pull it up and over his head. Ran your fingers along the scars there. “Fuck, I — you’re my best friend and I —”
“I want this,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss a line across his pecs. “Do you want this?”
Could feel that he did. Could feel it against your thigh, the thick heat of him through denim, straining against his belt and zipper. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” A kiss. “Yes, Eddie.” Another kiss.
He tugged off your top. You slipped off your sweats. He ran calloused fingers along your abdomen, over the slope of your breasts, teased at sensitive flesh. Watched as your head rolled to the side and a sigh spilled from you, feelings you’d never felt settling low in your belly. You liked it, liked the intensity in how he looked at you when he lowered himself down your abdomen, kissing your skin. Liked the desire aimed wholly at you in his eyes as he eased your thong down your thighs and tossed them toward your closet. Felt a thrill at the stare locked on the place only your fingers had ever ventured before this night, like he’d discovered hidden treasure.
“Eddie?” A nervous whispered breath.
He climbed back up your body hastily, thumbed at the worry line creasing your forehead. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I’ve never…you’re my…” You swallowed as something like understanding passed over his features.
His forehead dropped against yours, deep breaths spilling from his nose, hand holding the curve of your cheek. “Are you sure? I want you to be one thousand percent sure. Your first time…it should —”
Your hand slid up over his stomach, over the rapid thrum of his heart. “Yes, Eddie. One hundred thousand percent sure.”
He leaned over you with a laugh to turn Pip the Penguin around, facing the lamp. “Can’t have him seeing this. Feels like someone is watching.”
And you laughed, just like you always did with him. Just as you did when he slipped out of his boxers and nearly tripped getting out of them, tumbling forward onto your bed, just as you did when he crawled back up your body and blew a raspberry into your neck to ease the worried lines between your brow when you finally saw him bare for the first time. Something so foreign and yet exhilarating to you. Watching his nervous hands, the way he hovered over your body, the gravity of the moment finally hitting you. He readied you with gentle fingers, with a sort of pleasure that you’d only previously known by your own hand, and yet felt so differently when it was someone else’s inside of you.
Later, as you gasped and shook within his arms in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you watched him roll on a condom with blissful, hazy eyes. Clasped your hand in his as he pressed it down into your pillow, not without kissing the back of it first.
“Tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?” he asked, and you felt him there, pushing in just the slightest bit, face pinched in concentration.
Eyes widened at the feeling, so foreign and yet not wholly unpleasant.
Just…different.
“Is this okay?” He pulled out a little, pushed in. Pulled out, pushed in a little further each time.
And then, when he reached the point where it seemed your body wouldn’t allow him to go any further, you gasped and Eddie’s hips stilled immediately.
“Shit,” he breathed, dropping onto his elbows, searching your face worriedly, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You shook your head. “No, no…you can keep going. Just go s-slow.”
His fingers rubbed along your cheek. “Gotta relax, sweetheart.” You tried to do exactly that. Smiled to yourself as he distracted you with kisses along your jaw, fingers gripping into your hips, little circles along your thigh curled around his hip.
“Can you just, like…” You chewed on your bottom lip, the burning growing sharper with each slow movement of him within you. “Push all the way in.”
“It’ll hurt,” he said, wincing at the thought of hurting you.
“Only for a second. Please,” you leaned up to kiss him soundly, nuzzling his nose as you added, “I want to feel all of you, Eddie.”
As he warned…it hurt, a fullness you’d never felt before. Stole your breath. He wiped your tears away, whispering ‘sorry’ after sorry into your kiss-bitten lips. There was a brief moment where you jokingly teased that you worried if he’d actually fit, even voiced it to him as he shook with laughter into your neck at what he took as a compliment. Because laughter seemed to be a theme between the two of you. You giggled with him, breath hitching when your muscles loosened and he sank in all the way, your body connected with his in an unfamiliar and yet wonderful all at the same time.
That first time was awkward, giggly, and yet perfect all the same. Your bodies coming together in an unhurried rhythm that maybe ended too soon because he spluttered out that you felt too good — a pretty praise that had you preening, and then pleading when he rolled his hips in a way that had you seeing stars, cresting a wave, the crash of your second orgasm stealing your breath away.
Now, it’s a little different.
In your apartment, your back against your new kitchen cabinets, your boy expertly licking at you like he might die if he doesn’t watch you crumble for the third time that afternoon.
First, when Steve and Robin finally left for the afternoon and he had you up against the door, your cheek against the frame, his name a mantra on your lips, his forehead at the back of your head as he filled you deliciously from behind. The second time, you barely made it onto your new bed — frame still on backorder — before he had you on your back, with you scoring marks down his shoulders. Knowing how to draw out your pleasure, to ramp it up – knowing your body in a way no one else ever has.
So different from the people you were a year ago, and yet still trying to pretend that the ties between you don’t grow more confusing with each and every passing day.
——
You’re twenty two and Steve has some news for you. And it’s never the kind of news one wants to hear from the man they’ve been in love with for nearly ten years.
“I’m going to ask Nance to marry me.”
“That’s great!” You blurt it out. You don’t even know why, because it’s a lie, just like the countless other things you have said to save face in front of him. “Really — Steve, that’s incredible! I’m so happy for you. How do you think you’ll go about asking her?”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Turns out, it’s happening at Enzo’s the next week. Surrounded by all your best friends. Eddie sits at your right, watching as Steve gets down on one knee. As Nancy cries softly and accepts — as Steve slides a ring up onto her knuckle, thumb brushing against the back of her sparkling solitaire diamond.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt quite like you thought it might. There’s an ache, sure. A feeling of loss that you always feel when it comes to Steve. Though when you turn your head and look at Eddie, and he squeezes your hand in his, there’s peace there.
That’s a newer development. Just as him staying over for days on end is, leaving things of his in your drawers, using your shower. You’re best friends who sleep together and spend all their extra time together, and yet there’s this limbo of where you are and if this is ever going anywhere that neither of you seems keen on opening up to talk about.
Steve finds you later that night, standing outside overlooking the restaurant’s garden. A freshly filled champagne flute rests in your hand. Eddie is inside with Robin, Nancy and the rest of your friends, laughing at the bar where you left them. But out here the world seems quieter. The stars twinkle brighter. Hawkins seems to rest, even though there’s a disquiet in your mind.
“That was a beautiful proposal,” you tell him, turning to rest your back against the railing. He joins you there, elbow leaning onto the metal, his own glass filled with an amber liquid shifting as he moves to get comfortable. “Really. I’m so proud of you guys. You deserve all the happiness in the world after all the hell we’ve been through as a group.”
“You’re in the wedding party, you know?” he chuckles, and you never doubted it. “You and Robin kind of both have to share the title of ‘best man.’”
“As long as we have matching outfits, I’m in,” you giggle airily, head tilting back to look up at the sky.
“You’re in your head a bit,” Steve says, like he knows, because he does.
He knows everything about you.
Except for one thing.
“I’m okay,” you lie, taking a sip of your drink, “just been a long night. We’re getting older, you know? I can’t party like we used to.”
He narrows his eyes, because you’re twenty two and full of shit.
“So it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact you and Eddie are seeing each other?”
“We’re not.”
Not a lie. ‘Seeing’ would imply that your relationship is going somewhere. What you and Eddie have been doing…what you are doing…it has no beginning and no end, but there’s an awareness that at any point either of you might meet someone else and move on.
Lately that thought hurts. Not sure what to do with that.
“Okay…having sex then.”
“Why do you have to say it like that?” You grimace. “It’s weird coming from you.”
“Oh, like we haven't discussed my sex life in thorough detail –”
“Yeah, and I can tell you, as someone who has lived through it, that wasn’t fun either.”
He continues, ignoring you, “Gotta say, kind of feels shitty that you didn’t tell me about it.”
“There’s nothing to ‘tell,’” you say, shifting to look at him. “We hooked up…and then kept hooking up. We hook up, it’s what we do. It’s all we do, actually. I mean, not all we do. We have to breathe and eat sometimes, and we are also friends –”
“Friends who f –”
“Steve Harrington, enough out of you, you child.” There’s a bite to your tone, but no bark. He smirks at you, a cheeky, proud-looking thing that would have made you mourn years ago, but makes you feel a little smug now. Maybe time truly does heal wounds. “How do you even know?”
“When Nancy and I were over at your place last weekend, we realized I forgot my jacket and I, uh, heard you guys.”
Horror seeps into your blood. You wish the ground would open up right now. Swallow you whole. Wish a black hole would suck you up, never to be seen again. “I could have been doing a workout video.”
He grins, and you contemplate shoving him over the railing, but Hopper’s inside and you don’t really feel like facing jail time for murdering your best friend on what should be the happiest day of his life. “Do you always moan Eddie’s name during your workouts?”
Cheeks burning, you splutter, “Maybe I do.”
“So how long has this been going on?” Steve asks, choosing to once again ignore your attempts at redirecting the conversation.
“My twenty-first birthday. We went back to my place,” you tell him, quickly amending, “technically it was the next day. We…talked the whole night. It felt right.”
It was the perfect first time, you decided long ago now. And then that second time, after you’d both passed out, and you climbed on top of him, asking him to show you what he liked, before you ended up skipping your college classes in favor of spending the whole day exploring each other’s bodies.
“That was a…shit day,” he says, and it sounds sad. You never talk about that day. After you told him you loved him, it was almost like both of you had an unspoken agreement in place to just never breathe life into it again. Hearing him acknowledge it now…you don’t really know how you feel about it. “I’m sorry for that, again. I just –”
“It’s in the past,” you reassure him, offering a smile. “We can’t help who we fall in love with.” You know that now.
“So he met Pip the Penguin?”
You shove him. “Yes, he did. And we’ve sort of been – doing this ever since.”
“You love him,” Steve says, like it’s not even a question. At your arched brows, he repeats, “You love him.”
It’s a silly notion, you want to tell him earnestly. Though the more you think on it, the more you can see his words have some merit. For years Steve’s been the object of your affection, and suddenly his relationship with Nancy hurts less, you can be around him without feeling like there’s a raw, bleeding wound in your chest. You always accredited it to getting used to knowing this isn’t something that’s going to change. Yet as you picture Eddie's face in your mind, a coy smile tugs at your lips.
Steve grins. “See?”
“How do you know?” Disbelief imbues your words. It can’t be this simple, can it? To simplify the feelings with the word ‘love.’ An emotion that seems so big and so scary.
“I know what you look like when you’re in love,” he says, mouth tugging southward a bit over how he knows. He makes his way over to the door leading inside, needing to get back to his party. His eyes are soft. “It doesn’t take a scientist to define the way you look at him.”
He leaves you with your thoughts.
You nearly crumble with the weight of them.
——
Eddie’s not himself. You spend the day with Steve and Nancy, working on wedding planning. At one point, the guys end up stumbling into the bridal boutique where Nancy’s standing on a pedestal in a beautiful gown, her veil a billowing sprawl of lace behind her. She’s gorgeous, not that you ever doubted she would make a beautiful bride.
Later that night, Eddie fucks you like he’s trying to forget. Fingers curled tight around your wrists, no words of affection pouring from him, not like they usually do. He’s quiet and when he spills into you, you roll over onto your side and cry.
He tries to console you. A hand splays over your bicep, his mouth at your shoulder. He hadn’t even bothered to undress you tenderly like he usually does. It had been frantic and hurried and it feels like you’re an exposed nerve now, the pain throbbing in your chest.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s another new thing. A nickname for when you’re alone. A term of endearment you wish he would just take back now.
“I feel like you weren’t even here just now. Toward the end,” you whimper, rolling over, lip wobbling.
“No no no,” he coos, kissing along your brow, trying to soak up the blood seeping from your invisible wounds, “hey — hey, baby, I —”
“You were trying to forget.” You tug your blankets up around your shoulders, covering yourself.
“It was a hard day —”
“But I’m right here!” you cry out, launching yourself out of the bed, eyes burning as you whirl on him. “I’m right here. I’ve been here. We’re…this isn’t right, Eddie. It hasn’t been for a long time. Can’t you see that? You just fucked me because you saw Nancy in a wedding dress.”
“That’s not —”
“I think we need to stop this.” His mouth settles into a firm line, eyes rounding as the words slam down on him like a ton of bricks. “Put a pin in it. Call it. Give it a time of death. I just can’t do this anymore. It’s changed for me. It’s not ‘just sex’ anymore.”
“It’s never been ‘just sex’ with us,” he argues.
Eddie climbs out of bed. Tugs on his boxers, tries to console you with soothing hands on your arms. Resolute in your decision, you take a step back, head shaking a bit.
“I’m…” A pause.
After your conversation with Steve some months ago now, you really took the time to think about his words. The realization you’ve fallen in love with Eddie slowly over time. The man who weaved his way into your life so seamlessly on a day you needed him the most.
Eddie, who snores beside you in bed most nights and wakes you with endless kisses along your cheeks, because he wants you to smile first thing every morning. Eddie, who always forgets to separate his lights from his darks every time he does his laundry, so you started doing yours together. Eddie, who you spend every Friday night on your couch with, a pizza and a joint between you, punctuated by soft kisses and endless cuddling as you watch your favorite movies together. He’s become a staple in everyday life; a constant, a rock, an anchor.
You can’t quite pinpoint when it happened. When friendship changed into something more, but it had, and you couldn’t stop the free fall once you were on the edge of the cliff.
This love is also painful too. It’s knowing for a long time the two of you used sex as a way to run from your problems. Had relied on one another to find solace. It’s realizing that, though you want nothing more than to curl your arms around his waist and hold him for the rest of the night, that’s actually the last thing either of you need right now.
“I think you should stay at your apartment tonight,” you tell him, your voice a little hollow. Cold. Eyes downcast. “I think we need some time to cool off, and I think we need to do it separately.”
Eddie swallows thickly. His voice breaks as he chokes out, “Yeah…okay.”
“I love you,” you tell him, stare him straight in the eye as you do so. His breath shudders out of him. “And I think you love me too, but I don’t want you to say it back. I want you to say it when you can fully mean it. But I can’t do this…half version of love I’m getting now. I want the full thing, we both deserve the full thing.”
He tips your chin up. Kisses you. The first tears spill from your eyes, and when you open your eyes, there are tears in his eyes too.
“Fuck,” he rasps, folding his arms around your waist, holding you close as you both break.
Never really together, and yet it’s the worst break up. It cleaves you right down the middle. Leaves you in two pieces, where one belongs to Eddie and you don’t know that you’ll ever get it back. The man wound so deeply in your veins now he’ll likely remain there forever.
You want him to be — just not now.
Not in this capacity, not like this.
You want that earth shattering, ground shaking, immeasurable kind of love. The kind that extends beyond stars and space. Love that transcends time and follows you even in death at the end of it all.
You’d rather have all of Eddie instead of this, even if it means losing him for now.
There’s that saying, albeit cliche, that if something is meant for you, you need to let it go. If it comes back, it was always yours.
In actuality it’s scary — letting him go.
But you trust it’s the right thing. Trust that it’s the best thing for the health of what’s already here, even when every atom and cell in your body wants to fight against what it innately knows is best for it.
Eddie opens his mouth to speak. Thinks better of the words he’s going to say. Instead kisses you on the forehead three times.
I. Love. You.
“I’ll —” He stumbles over the words. Know that he means to say ‘I’ll see you soon,’ but neither of you knows if that’s true.
Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes you simply need to lean up on your toes and kiss him for what might very well be the last time. Tears spill down your cheeks and his. Little fractures. Glittering reminders of beautiful memories made in the time spent together.
He packs a bag and hikes his things over his shoulder. Exits the door you’ve watched him walk in so many times that the thought of never seeing him pass through again makes you want to shatter all over again.
And when he blows you a final kiss on the way out, you do.
——
“So you…ended things?”
Steve tries to understand, your head in his lap, heart in your throat as you bleed love all over your living room floor. It hasn’t stopped since Eddie left. Since you picked up the phone and dialed a number you’d never forget and sobbed out a broken, “Steve.”
There are no words needed to be said. In the background you hear the rustle of keys, and then he’s at your doorstep fifteen minutes later, ready with his arms open for you to fall into. And now you’re here.
He lets you cry. He lets you sob against the pillow on his lap until your eyes are puffy and you’re reduced to hiccuped breaths. Doesn’t judge you for it, offers comfort, understands. He lost Nancy for a while, too. Gets it.
“Staying together in the way we are now isn’t healthy,” you tell him, woodenly, “it’d kill us. I love him, and I know he loves me, but this is what we need right now. Time and space and — and I already miss him so much and it hurts, Steve.”
“Kind of like a limb torn off, right?”
“Maybe not that dramatic?”
“Heart ripped out then?” he amends, huffing a laugh.
“Yeah,” you sob, “that.”
“Hey?” He whispers, and you lift yourself up to look at him. Crumple all over again as he coos, “Honey,” pulling you into his arms. “I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but it’s going to get better, okay?”
“Promise?”
He drops a kiss to the crown of your head. “I promise.”
Everything feels like it’s ending. But one day turns into two, and then two into three. Suddenly it’s a week, and then a month, and without him, the earth turns. The leaves change. The sun rises and falls every day. The ground withers as winter comes and passes, and the flowers bloom in spring. Without him, children still giggle in the park as you rush along on a run. You meet up with friends, deflect advances from men and women at bars — tell them you’re taken, don’t know why — try to live. Try to heal because it’s what you promised Eddie you would do.
Life continues, you miss Eddie because you’ll always miss him, but you don’t see him.
For seven months.
Nancy and Steve make it happen. Coordinate your schedules in a way that allows you both the time you need.
The night before the wedding, after the wedding rehearsal dinner, you invite everyone back to your family’s lake house. You took it for the weekend, just to have some time away after what you’re sure is to be a busy weekend. Wanted to catch up on some reading, wake up to the familiar sounds of birds chirping and the water gurgling.
Eddie stares at you from across the living room, beer in his hand. Watches you like one would watch a show and it has your heart twirling, stomach churning, fingers twitching around the stem of your wine glass.
It’s fleeting. A brief moment before Nancy asks Eddie to help her with something in the other room, and he rushes after her. Robin leans back against the pillows she’s piled up against the couch, her girlfriend, Vickie, beside her, both eying you curiously, “What’s that all about?”
“Nothing,” you mutter absently, sipping at your champagne.
“They used to hook up,” Steve explains, shrugging. “But then they fooled around and fell in love. Just like the song. You know how it goes, ‘fooled around and fell in loveeee.’”
“Steve!”
“What? You were going to tell her in a second. I could see it on your face.”
You blanch. “I mean, yes. But you didn’t have to just spill it out there for the whole world to hear.” You swallow. “Yes, we…were together for a bit but then I ended things. It's been over seven months now.”
“Wow,” Robin breathes out, throwing back the rest of her drink, “so, uh, the smoldering looks Eddie is throwing your way?”
“They’re not smoldering looks,” you argue, cheeks burning, “and if there are, it’s probably just because this is the first time we’ve seen each other in months.”
“Can’t believe none of you assholes told me about this,” Robin huffs out, head shaking. “Does Nancy know?”
“Eddie is her best friend,” Steve says flatly.
“So yes,” Robin concedes. “You’re going to give me grays.”
“You’re only twenty three,” you remind her, and Vickie pins you with a ‘just let her be dramatic’ sort of look.
“I’m just — my best friend was in love with my other best friend. And now the same best friend is sleeping with my other best friend. And those best friends are now acting like a bunch of idiots because they can’t get their shit together and just fall in love and I’m supposed to act like this is all normal?! Just casual, typical Friday night conversation before my other best friend’s wedding to my other best friend —”
“That was…not at all confusing. Nope,” Steve mumbles. Vickie smacks his arm, because there’s a shuffle by the door and Nancy and Eddie appear once more, another log for the crackling fire perched in Eddie’s elbow.
The chatter in the room dissolves after that, as Steve and Nancy make their way upstairs to the room they’re taking for the night. Robin and Vickie have the guest room, leaving you with a decision to make, stopping back into the living room after everyone says goodnight to find Eddie sitting there, watching the fire.
“So…we have one bed free,” you begin.
“It’s yours.”
“You’re a guest,” you remind him, stepping further into the room.
He doesn’t look your way, but you can see orange flames dancing in the reflection of his beautifully dark eyes.
“I want you to have it,” he says, finally turning to face you. Breath hitches in the back of your throat, your body’s normal response when he’s near, clearly not dulled with the passing of time.
“Okay.” You give a curt nod. “Here, let me grab you a blanket.”
He’s quiet. So unlike the man you spent over a year with. Regards you carefully as you move about the room, ducking down to grab a blanket from a basket near the fireplace. Your hand outstretches to pass the blanket to him, his fingers touching yours. It’s a lingering sort of thing. His fingers warm against yours, the barest of brushes of his knuckles across your skin. Electricity dances in your veins.
Then it’s over as quickly as it comes, the blanket thrown over his thighs, his eyes on your face.
“Sorry I missed your birthday," he says.
It was the worst birthday you had in years.
A laugh. “Sorry I missed yours.”
You heard all about it from Steve, but couldn’t bring yourself to go at the time.
He swallows, throat bobs with effort. “You didn’t bring a date for the wedding?”
No, and you hadn’t dated anyone since him either. Tried and failed here and there, blind dates friends set up, but they never went anywhere.
“Neither did you,” you state, as a matter of factly.
Unless she’s hiding somewhere else, and you feel your heart kick anxiously up at the notion.
“Just me,” he says, exhaling deeply.
You thank the heavens, or whoever will listen, for this tiny blessing.
He smiles, and it’s that favorite smile of his. The one where his dimples pop and his face brightens. The one reserved for those many nights you spent inside with him, laughing until the early hours of the morning, both needing to go to work the next day, yet neither finding it in yourselves to care.
“Look at us.”
“Yeah.” Your hand rubs up and down your arm, feet shifting awkwardly beneath you.
“You look…” His eyes trail over your features with a familiar fondness within those dark depths. “You look really good. Happy.”
“I am good…and happy,” you tell him, nodding. “You…you look good, too. I should, uh, head up for bed.”
His head dips, and then dips again rapidly. “Right.” Clears his throat. “Yeah – ah, early morning tomorrow.”
“Yup,” you pop the ‘p.’
There’s a pause in the conversation. A moment where neither of you moves. You know you don’t want to. Want to remain right here. You also know better. There were words said months ago, words with intention behind them. The need for both of you to get better, to get to a place where you’re ready for whatever this thing is between the two of you.
You’re ready, have been for a while now, but Eddie…
As you finally start to trek backwards, maintaining eye contact with the man who still holds your heart, he whispers, “I’m glad you didn’t bring a date.”
“Me too, Eddie,” you admit quietly, biting at your bottom lip. “Maybe it’s selfish, but…me too.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He’s beautiful like this. Dark eyes on yours, hair a wavy mess around his shoulders, strands loose from his ponytail. Soft, in a way that makes you want to climb onto the sofa beside him and let him hold you, erasing all the memories lost. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Breathless, you feel completely and utterly breathless under this spell. “Goodnight, Ed. See you in the morning.”
And you’re gone. Slipping up the stairs to your bedroom, closing the door behind you, and placing a hand over the organ clanging away behind your ribcage. With an exhale, you rush into the bathroom and flick the light on. Your features illuminate in the mirror. Eyes wide, chest heaving, looking a little out of sorts. Your cheeks burn with the whisper of his touch, mind whirling at the meaning behind his glances, the timbre of his words.
Steve might be the first person you loved.
Your first kiss.
But Eddie is the first person you can say without a doubt in your mind you are in love with.
Even now, with seven months of time between you – and you don’t think anything will change that.
——
The wedding ceremony is a beautiful thing. Flowing, floral archway. A church that looks like something out of a postcard. Little mosaic windows, a gorgeous sprawling ceiling with high beams. Everyone they love is here. Family and friends made along the way. The kids, with their beaming smiles and not so childlike faces any longer.
Steve and Nancy recite their vows to one another, the words sounding muffled in your ears, because for the first time in your life the boy you’ve been looking at is finally looking right back at you.
Eddie, in a black suit, smiling over at you. Hands folded in front of himself as Steve and Nancy declare their everlasting love in a room filled with their loved ones. The feeling of his hand on your arm as he walked you down the aisle like a brand that lingers on your skin. Can feel it even now, the way his fingers would feel should they grace your cheek. Had leaned into that caress so many times, seeking the comfort of him.
You don’t even know why, but you smile back, thinking of one of your favorite days with him before everything had gone to hell.
You wanted, very badly actually, to hook up that night. He’d brought a backpack with him, intended to stay for the weekend. But when he walked into your apartment, a spare key on his keyring, he found you holed up on the couch, grumbling about how your weekend plans were ruined.
“They’re not ruined,” Eddie chuckled, dropping down onto the couch beside you. “You act like I’m this insatiable man.”
“You can be –”
“Hi pot, meet kettle.” You glared half heartedly. “Plus you’re a very active participant, and you benefit from it in the form of plentiful orgasms, so quit your yapping,” he teased, catching a little wince, the furrow between your brows. “No dice? What’s going on, sweetheart?”
“Period cramps,” you grumbled out, pulling your blanket up higher on your form. “You don’t have to stay. I’m not going to be much company like this.”
“One, I always like hanging out with you. You’re my best friend, you dork.” He flicked your nose, grinning when you wrinkled it in response. “Two, let me run to the supermarket real quick, okay?”
“Why?” Your head tilted to the side.
“Going to grab us some food so I can cook dinner,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “and some things for my girl. Gotta take care of her, right?”
His girl. His girl. He’d never said that before, and something about it felt perfectly wonderful and also a little bit like a lie. You wanted it to be true, though. Realized you hadn’t wanted something so fiercely like that in a long, long time. Didn’t know what to do with those emotions, so you dropped back down onto your mountain of pillows and watched as Eddie quickly slipped out of your apartment in a flurry of black leather and curly hair, and slammed the door behind him.
He returned a half hour later with a bag of treats. Your favorite chips, candy, some popcorn. He got started on spaghetti and requested you pick out a movie. Oddly domestic for two people who usually spent most nights tangled in bedsheets.
Later, after your belly was full and the movie was playing on the television screen, Eddie tugged you against his chest and dragged a hand along your lower back, thumb pushing with perfect pressure at the base of your spine to alleviate some of the ache there.
“Is this good?” he asked, voice quiet.
“Perfect, honestly,” you hummed, head nuzzling further into his chest.
You don’t know when you fell asleep, don’t know who fell asleep first, but when you woke up it was to Eddie’s body curled around yours, his arms slung around your abdomen.
Wanting to do something special for him, you quietly extricated yourself out from within the tangle of his arms. Flicked on your kitchen light and started throwing some things together for pancakes. Your oversized tee shirt fluttered against your thighs as you worked, bare legs covered only up to the knee by your crew socks. At some point as you hummed along to the softly playing radio, Eddie appeared behind you, arms around your waist, his chest at your spine.
“Morning,” he muttered, pressing a loud kiss to your cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay now,” you said, leaning your head over your shoulder to look at him. He trailed the backs of his fingers across the highest point of your cheek. Kissed you slowly, softly, sweetly. “Hmm. What was that for?”
“Didn’t get one yesterday.”
And it shouldn’t have made your heart stutter. It shouldn’t have made a liquid heat pool in your belly. Because the arrangement had always been the two of you being best friends who sought shelter in each other.
You kissed him again. “Better?”
He grinned, twirling you in his arms, hand catching yours. “Nope,” he chuckled, drawing you in closer as ‘My Girl’ spilled out of the radio speaker, “but if you dance with me I might be able to forgive you.”
In the morning light you did just that. He whirled you around and brought you back into the circle of his arms. Looped an arm around your waist to hold you close, your face against the curve of his chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head as he gently hummed along. ‘Well I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way? My girl, my girl, my girl. Talkin’ about my girl, my girl.’
Eventually the pancakes burned, the room filled with smoke, and the fire alarm went off. You laughed about it, fell to the ground in a fit of giggles, your thighs over his lap as you both foregone breakfast in favor of eating ice cream out of a carton.
It felt normal. A little too normal.
Now you only look over to him fondly as Steve and Nancy’s vows draw to a close. Wish, as they walk back out the double doors at the end of the aisle once they’re officially husband and wife, for more stolen moments like that.
——
“Hey,” Steve’s voice calls from the end of the hallway, just as you slip out of the powder room. “I’ve been looking for you. They're doing the couple’s dance next.”
You let out an incredulous laugh. “I think you forget I’m single these days.” You pause, rushing over to grab at his tie, askew around his neck. Nimble fingers reach up to grasp at it, working the fabric back into proper place. “You go on ahead. It’s your special day.”
“I promised a friend I’d get you onto the dance floor for one dance,” he says, curling a hand around the back of your wrist. With a frown, he adds, “Just one dance, please? He gets all dramatic and pouty when he doesn’t get his way.”
“Go figure, so do you!” He narrows his eyes as you add, “no wonder you’re best friends.”
“I’m choosing to ignore you,” he says, suddenly — albeit dramatically — glum.
“Today is your wedding day,” you remind him, sliding your palm down to wrap around his hand, “you shouldn’t be worried about me.”
“Yeah, but remember when I decided you were my best friend at ten years old? I said I’d protect and love you forever —”
“We were kids,” you laugh, shaking your head, “we said a lot of things we knew nothing about.”
“Hey.” His hand frees itself from yours, only for both to rest on either side of your cheeks. Tears, unbidden, start to burn on your lower lash line, threatening to spill out. “You are my best friend. And I want you to be happy. It’s been seven months. Hear him out, see what he has to say, and don’t let this day pass by without at least giving things a chance.”
“Why, Steve?”
“Because I married my person today,” he says, brushing away a tear as it glides down your cheek, “and I think he could be yours. Look at me, okay? Look at you — too pretty to be crying right now. I love you.”
“I love you too, Steve.”
Would love him forever. That kind of friendship never fades, never dwindles, never dies.
A different type of love than the one you once loved him with, because that spot was always meant for Eddie, even if you hadn’t always known it.
“One dance?”
“One dance,” you agree, curling your arm through the loop of his elbow he leaves open for you to take.
The reception hall is glowing in a pale blue. All around couples start to litter the dance floor. Bodies close together, heads bent low, hushes of whispers between partners shared only for their ears. Steve halts you as you step out into the crowd, and it’s then that the world seems to stop. There, at the edge of the floor, stands Eddie with his hands in his pockets. His tie is a little loose around his throat, the top button of his shirt open, revealing a hint of the tattoos he got to help cover some of the scarring there. And then you catch the tilt of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, the way he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the room.
“Go…” Steve gives you a little nudge and joins his new wife.
On shaky legs, you start to walk. One foot after another, after another. One two, one two. You count each footfall, and can feel the thump-thump of your heart, as every step brings you closer to him. Finally, the tips of your heeled shoes meet his leather ones.
Your head lifts, eyes catching him in the dim lighting. “Hi,” you whisper.
“Hey,” he says back, unsure of where to put his hands, one raising to touch your shoulder before he thinks better of it.
“I’ve been told I owe you a dance,” you say, fighting back the silly smile that threatens to grow on your lips.
“Got worried,” he confesses, a tentative hand curling around your back, pressing against the middle to pull you in close.
Your body brushes him, and it feels like coming home after a long day. It feels like your whole soul exhales. Feels right. “Why?”
“Thought you might stand me up,” he chuckles, your head resting against his shoulder, “and then I’d look like the only idiot alone on the dance floor.”
“Look, Eddie, I —” you say, just as he says, “I missed you so damn much, sweetheart.”
There it is. The wonder, the questions you’ve yet to ask, uncovered in one sentence. The confirmation that everything you’ve been feeling, every longing moment, has been mutual.
“That day in your kitchen,” he says, quiet enough only you can hear, “when we danced like this was that first moment for me.”
“What moment?” You blink up at him nervously.
“When I realized how completely and utterly fucked I was because I lo — liked you more than I ever realized,” he admits, a little sheepishly, “although pretty sure it was before that. Look — when we broke up —”
“Eddie,” you interrupt, heart hammering away wildly like little hummingbird wings, “I don’t think a wedding is the best place to discuss this. And I want to discuss it, don’t get me wrong, I just think we should…keep things normal for our friends. It’s their day.”
“It’s been seven months,” he reminds you.
As if you could ever forget, as if there isn’t an ‘Eddie’ shaped indent forever etched into your comforter that you’ve stared at for every day since he walked out your door.
“And I’ve thought about you every single day for each of them,” he says, and it nearly breaks you all over again when you catch the longing in his voice.
“I know,” you say, a little hoarsely, “I have too.”
His lip twitches at that, hopefulness replacing the forlorn look on his beautiful face. Everything in you screams to lean up and kiss him, to put to rest the disquiet in your soul, but you refrain. Focus solely instead on the emcee as he announces the bouquet toss.
“Guess that’s my cue,” you tell him, shrugging softly. “You’ll call me? Tonight?”
Eddie grimaces. Nods. “Sure. Yeah.”
Walking backwards, you flash him a wave, trying to not inwardly wince at your last words to the man. ‘You’ll call me?’ There’s little time to linger, as girls gather around on the dance floor and Nancy turns away from the crowd, her back to your group. Steve looks on at Eddie’s side, the two laughing jovially as Nancy launches the bouquet over her head and into the sea of women.
It happens in slow motion. You think it does, at least. An elbow digs into your ribs here, a knee bumps yours there, a shoulder bashes yours, and, without even realizing it, the flowers thump into your chest. Robin’s shaking your shoulder, laughing in your ear as Nancy rushes over to wrap you in a hug. Steve’s grinning and elbowing Eddie, who is turning a shade of red you’re pretty sure a tomato would envy.
It’s just a silly tradition, you think.
Doesn’t mean anything. So you grab onto Nancy and Robin, pull them back onto the dance floor, and pretend you don’t wish deep down it did.
——
Your keys drop into a bowl near the coat rack. Your jacket is pushed up onto a hook, still wet from the rain that’s starting to fall over Hawkins. Feet aching, you kick those off at the doorway, breathing a deep breath at the instantaneous relief. With a sigh, you slip into the kitchen and hit the light switch, as well as the back light, and suddenly the wide open windows to the sliding door leading to the lake are illuminated. Your eyes trail over the water rippling in the distance. The moon is a perfect circle in the sky, the twinkly lights your parents had wrapped around an umbrella outside like little fireflies in the night, even on a dreary evening.
Another sigh and you slip over to the counter, grabbing a bottle opener. An unopened red wine bottle sits idly on the counter, and you snatch a glass from a cabinet above, pouring a generous cup.
You’ve barely enough time to take in that first decadent sip when the doorbell rings, filling the home. Eyes flick to the clock against the wall, read that it’s nearly eleven now. Maybe the neighbor’s dog got free again? Wouldn’t be the first time.
Another ring.
“One second!” you shout into the open air, placing your glass down on the counter to rush down the hall.
Through the peephole you see him. Hair stuck to his forehead and slicked to his leather jacket. His shirt is nearly seethrough. Droplets of water cascade down the tense lines of his face, his forehead.
“Eddie?” you ask as you tug the door open, head cocked to the side. “What are y —”
“I’ll call?” He sounds pitiful. A hoarse sound tugged from deep within his chest, like his words have been raked over glass.
You…there are no words. “Yeah, Eddie. It’s when a person picks up the phone, dials a number, and the other person answers. Generally they carry on a conversation after, if we are getting technical here.”
He shakes his head and water flicks from the ends of his wet strands of hair with the movement. “Since when are we the kind of people who do that? We’re the kind of people who just barge right into places. I show up at your place, you show up at mine. We eat each other’s food, share everything. Hell, I had a key to your apartment. I’d stop on my way back from the shop to shower because you always lived closer to there than my apartment. Gotta say, I miss that. And fuck — I miss you, sweetheart.”
He’s shivering now as you ask, “What are you doing, Eddie?”
He lets out an incredulous laugh, looking to the sky, exasperated. “Standing here in the pouring rain trying to tell the girl that I love…that I’m in love with her and that I want to be with her. For real this time.” He pauses, arms curling around himself. “And I’m, like, really cold right now and I wanted to have this conversation inside but here I am, trying to make a grand gesture.”
“I thought you weren’t a grand gesture guy.” You’re joking, but there are tears burning in your eyes at his words.
“I’m a grand gesture kind of guy for you. Only you.” His teeth chatter, “Fuck, sweetheart —”
“Oh,” you jolt, tugging the door open wider, “come in. I’m so sorry.”
It’s instant. As soon as the door shuts behind him, and he’s standing there sopping wet on your rug, his hands find your face and draw your mouth to his, claiming your lips in a searing kiss.
A kiss that starts off tentatively. Light. Teasing. Gentle brushes of skin passing over yours. Relearning each other, as if you’d ever forget him. As if you’d ever forget the mintiness on his tongue, the smokiness in his kiss. As if you’d forget the way he always loops an arm around your lower back to tug you in closer, bringing you flush against him, wanting to always be near.
But it’s not enough, you decide, as you work at the buttons on his shirt. Each one pops out slowly, fingers tripping over themselves, a puddle already forming on the ground beneath you. Once he’s free, you tug his undershirt out from his dark pants, fingers roaming over the soft of his stomach, the line of hair disappearing beneath his pants that has him circling your wrists with his fingers to pause you in your ministrations.
“Slow down, sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear, brushing featherlight kiss after featherlight kiss to your throat. “I want to take my time with you.”
“You love me?” you ask him, humming into his mouth as he walks you backward into the living room, barely making it to the couch before you’re clambering up onto his lap, dress riding up on your thighs.
“I love you,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I love you.” He kisses your other cheek. “I love you.” He kisses your forehead. “I love you,” and finally, your lips.
Your face crumples with his words, tears stinging your eyes. His thumbs come up to brush at the ones that slip down your cheeks, voice a coo when he says, “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I’m happy,” you whimper out, “I missed you. Every day, I missed you.”
“You’re stuck with me now,” he chuckles, and you laugh along with him, liking the way that sounds, “I’m moving my things back into your dresser as we speak.”
“Promise?”
He sobers then. Lips turning downward, the wrinkle on his forehead more pronounced, his hands curling around yours and giving a squeeze. “I’m sorry. For that last day. I…my head was all over the place at the time. I was trying to figure out how I felt about you and clearly had some feelings still that I needed to work through with Nancy. But you — you didn’t deserve that.”
When you shake your head, he continues, “It hadn’t been ‘just sex’ for me for a long time. I mean, I made up excuses to see you whenever I could. Maybe I didn’t realize what was going on, but I just wanted to be around you all the time. And when I wasn’t able to see you and just…be with you…it wasn’t easy. But I know it’s what we needed and I’m ready now. I just want us, for real this time. I want to hang out at your apartment, do all that stupid couple shit that I can only see myself doing with you. I want you to yell at me when I leave the damn toilet seat up. I want to brush my teeth with you before bed and hold you every night. I want to do this with you, be with you in the way we should have been all along, if you’ll let me.”
“Yes,” you kiss him, long and lingering, breathing him in as he does the same. “I want it all with you, Eddie. I love you…I love you so much.”
“Don’t think I’ll ever get used to you saying that,” he says, staring up at you wondrously.
“I’ll remind you everyday, don’t worry,” you tell him with a giggle, sliding your hands up and over his shoulders, along the curve of his jaw. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Eddie makes love to you for the first time that night.
A slow, gentle thing.
His body crowds over yours, hands map out every line of your body, memorizing every detail he’s gone without for months. Kisses along every inch of you he can, whispering praises into your skin. When he pushes inside for that first time, your breath rushes out of you in a strained gasp as your body readjusts to seven months without him, mouth dropping open with a whine when he bottoms out.
It’s slow. His hips rolling against yours, body cradling you close, thumb finding your clit to bring you up and over the edge, trembling beneath him with a cry of his name.
That first time feels like a sorry.
The second, he pulls you into the shower, washing every inch of your body. The remnants of the wedding and him still on your skin. He’s sweet, all soft, fluttery kisses against your lips and shoulders, your spine, your thighs when he gets down onto his knees to glide the washcloth along them.
His mouth finds you in the shower, your head rolling back against tile, fingers tangling in his hair as he props a thigh over his shoulder to keep you open for him.
When you finish, you pull him back up to your lips, smothering his own moan with a kiss as you cup him in hand and help to guide him into you.
That time feels like a promise. The steady rhythm of his hips, the fierceness of his love, the strength of his arms as he holds you, his eyes locked on yours as you both bask in the euphoria of closeness.
The third happens somewhere around the time the sun begins to rise again over Hawkins, the rainstorm from the night before a wispy memory. Thighs slot over Eddie’s hips, his hands sliding up and over your breasts, teasing as you roll over him, the drag of him and the soft moans spilling from the man beneath you spurring you on.
That third time, as he flips you over onto your back and moves inside you so slowly, hands and eyes locked with yours — that one feels like a new beginning, a turning page.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the dawning realization. Tears he brushes away with sweet kisses, whispering, “I know, I know,” into your shoulder as he comes apart at the edges, your own release shattering through you like a bolt of lightning. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
You sleep intermittently. Both of you. The house is yours for the weekend, so you make the most of it. Lips coming together, bodies joining after soft sighs turn into eager movements of hands beneath covers. Over and over, like you can’t get enough — and you won’t get enough.
Somewhere around dinner time the next evening, you traipse out of bed with Eddie still sprawled out on his stomach, long tee shirt dancing along your thighs. Sock clad feet excitedly slide across wooden floors, fingers curling around the refrigerator door to pull out a bottle of champagne. As the cork pops, Eddie appears in the doorway, a white tank top covering his body, sweats hanging low on his hips. A tattooed arm comes up to rest there, the muscle of his bicep straining with the movement.
“Hi,” he whispers. Pauses, making a little camera with his hands, pretending to snap a photo.
“What was that?” you giggle airily, pouring two glasses, offering one to him.
“Just looked so damn beautiful, sweetheart,” he leans down to kiss your forehead, “sunset behind you, your smile.”
“Thank you.” Your fingers tangle with those on his free hand. “How about I order us a pizza? I’m starving.”
You eat in comfortable silence, the bottle of champagne slipping away as the hours do. Everything feels saccharine and wonderful, perfectly warm, as he later tugs your hand on the way downstairs, deciding on a game of pool before heading back up to watch a movie together.
Eddie makes his way over to the record player in the corner. As the music fills the room, the lyrics to “The Way You Do the Things You Do,” meet your ears, a silly smile sliding across your lips.
“Are you a secret romantic?” you tease, snatching a pool cue from a rack.
“Only for you,” he muses, catching the one you throw his way as he starts to rack the balls. “I like this record, though. Reminds me of you.”
You lean over the table to break, not missing the way his eyes trail your backside as you do so. Balls scatter, a solid sinking into a pocket. “So…you’ll move in?”
“Is that your way of asking?” he chuckles, moving around the table to make a shot, knocking another ball of yours in.
“Well…” You bite at your lip, focusing on your next shot. Sink one of his. “My place is closer to your job. It’s bigger. You’ve basically lived there before…”
“You don't think it’s too soon?”
Your mouth pops open, wincing as he sinks another one of your balls. “I mean, I didn’t think. I just feel like —”
“I’m kidding, baby,” he swoops down to kiss your temple, “Told you last night you’re not getting rid of me. I want to do things right this time.”
You sip your glass a bit, relishing the bubbles that spring to life in your belly, sure many of which are thanks to the man staring at you the way he is.
“Your turn,” he says, gesturing toward your cue.
The next song plays on the record, and you once again lean forward, watching Eddie’s gaze in the mirror hanging across the way as he slips up from behind you, curling an arm low around your belly, kissing your neck.
Heat coils low, then lower still. “You’re —” A quiet sigh spills out of you, his lips toying with the space beneath your ear. “…distracting me.”
As he moves out from behind you, lining up his next shot, you snatch his pack of cigarettes free from his pocket. His eyes lock on yours as you pluck one free, holding it between two fingers, drawing it up to pursed lips. Dark eyes lock with yours as the tip glows red, watching you draw in slowly. As you exhale he snatches it from you, bringing it to his mouth.
And maybe you lean over again, backside poking out a little bit too far than it needs to, but the effect is him curling his arms around your hips, dragging your back flush against his chest as you reach up to take the cigarette back from him. Like that, you feel every inch of his body. Each dip and curve of a broad torso, the corded muscles in his arms from working with his hands for hours all day. Hands you know to be skilled, not only with your body, but with cars and his music. And he’s warm — like a damn near furnace, breath tantalizingly sweet against your ear as he kisses you softly there.
“Fuuuck me,” you sigh out as his fingers start to draw lazy circles around the tops of your thighs, dragging higher until they disappear beneath your shirt and toy at the hem of your panties, teasing, slowly swaying to “My Girl” once it starts.
“Always so wet for me, baby,” he purrs, nipping and sucking a line at your neck. He’s hard where he rests at your ass, and the urge to touch him has you reaching behind your back, cupping him through his sweats.
Eddie groans and you’re suddenly spun around, the cigarette stamped out on an ash tray behind you, your glass of champagne nearly knocked over. His hand grasps one of yours, his other loops low around your back, bodies swaying to and fro to the music, lyrics interrupted by the sounds of your lips meeting his. And it’s perfect: moonlight spilling in through a darkened window, your shirt dancing around your thighs, his heart beating in tandem with yours. You’re not sure when, or how, it happens. One moment you’re swaying with him, arms around his neck, keeping him in close. The next, you’re on your back, balls scattering around you on the table, his mouth clashing fiercely with yours.
You shove his sweatpants down, and he tugs at your panties. He’s bare beneath, and as soon as your underwear is tossed somewhere else in the room, he’s crawling up your body, the hot underside of his cock sliding through already slick folds, coating himself in your wetness.
“Eddie,” you let out a breathy whimper, the friction of him against you perfect and yet not enough all the same, “Eddie, please. I want you inside me.”
His eyes are on yours as he grips himself in hand, gliding his glistening pink tip along your center, asking, "You want me like this baby? Tell me.”
“Please. Please, I want it all, Eddie.”
“Look at us,” he whispers, and you watch that moment, that forever splendid moment where he buries himself inside you, closer to you than anyone has ever been or will be. “Jesus…” He grinds out through clenched teeth, pulling out slowly before pushing all the way back in, “You always feel so good. You feel like mine.”
“I love you.” You pant into his neck, clawing at his back as he picks up his pace, “Always loved you.”
You’ve said it a thousand times now. Watched every time as pure and unadulterated peace fell across his features. But now Eddie only holds you, whispering the sentiment back into your skin as his body drives yours further up the pool table, imbuing every roll of his hips, every thrust, with the emotions overflowing in his chest. You can feel it, the depth of it. The way he loves you, the trust between you, the promise he’ll always keep you safe and close.
You can only bask in it.
——
“Are you okay?”
He asks you again, as you stand outside that next morning, a blanket wrapped around your form.
The answer isn’t simple.
Then again, none of this has ever been. Not with Eddie. But you suppose that’s what makes it your favorite love story.
Because it’s yours. Because it’s messy and it’s different and it’s yours. Because you started off as two friends, maybe in the wrong place, in love with the wrong people at the wrong time when you first met years ago.
Or — perhaps, the right time, because in the end you’re here. With him. With thoughts of the future, plans for what happens when you head out later for your apartment.
To the place where you’ll start the newest chapter with him once and for all.
“I’m perfect,” you tell him, lowering down onto the swinging chair against the side of the home. Your fingers tangle with his, your body slumping over his chest as he gets comfortable against the cushions. He holds you like that as you trace patterns into his skin, trace over scars, over tattoos. “I’m going to miss the lake house, but I can’t wait to go home.”
“I know.” He drops a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers brushing against your spine. “Me too.”
A comfortable silence drapes over you as you watch the sun creep higher along the sky. As you listen to the birds chirping, the chatter of children. Later, it’s the ruckus of people launching themselves into the water, people fishing and boasting of their catches. And at night, as you and Eddie make one last fire and share a glass of wine, fireflies drifting around your head, you allow yourself to imagine a life where forever looks like this.
A life with your first real, honest, true love.
Someone who stares right back at you as you grin at him over the lip of your glass, who leans over and kisses you just to whisper he loves you into your lips one more time.
In a year from now you’ll be back, you in a flurry of pretty tulle and him in a tux, newly Mr. and Mrs. Munson, but for now you smile to yourself, ready to watch the next chapter unfold.
——
this is the first thing i have written this long in months after having the worst few months of my life. so happy to finally hit post on this one. i hope you enjoy, maybe leave a comment or a reblog. would mean the world to me. 💕
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satrs · 8 months
Text
Look at me, look at me,
you lookin'?
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ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ I wanted to thank you for 1.025 followers! It really means the world to me and I am shocked and so happy of how far and big this blog has gotten in just a couple months. Thanks to every single one of you, I love you all!!! Bigggg big BIG hugs and smooches to all of you MWAH MWAH!!!
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; friends with benefits trope with them.
ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; various Blue lock men/jjk men x fem!reader
TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI. unprotected intercourse. fingering. nicknames(pretty, princess, pretty girl, baby). size kink(?). mating press. doggy. oral(fem!receiving). dirty talk.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+[proplayers]!
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TRUE FRIENDS
when two preexisting friends decide to start having sex.
It was a give and take between you both, as true friends would. One hand washes the other, right?
"So fucking tight." His grunts and your moans filled the room beside the slapping of naked skin. Your moans turned higher in volume as the pistoning of his hips increased, your legs sore from being folded in half for what seemed to be an eternity.
"You feel that?" His hand pushed down onto the pit of your stomach, pornographic mewl rushing past your lips at the pressure, his tip kissing your cervix "Right in your tummy. Feels good?" Your frantic nod caused the man's heart to swell with pride.
"That's what friends are for."
ISAGI. Loki. KUNIGAMI. Ness. Snuffy. Ur fav
Suguru. Yuji. TODO. Inumaki. Ur fav
NETWORK OPPORTUNISM
when two people agree to serve as “backups” for each other in situations where neither of them can find another partner for the evening.
"That asshole couldn't give it to you anyway." Your moans got muffled by the pillow your head was buried in, ass in the air as his hips moved in sync to yours, hand harshly ripping the flesh of your back, red handprint on your rear. "But that's alright," His movements showed no sign of stopping, motioning you to hold the headboard for stability. "Best friend ‘s here to save your day."
The movements of his hips increased, curses falling from his lips. "There’s nothing better than this." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you up against his chest, his breath tickling your neck. "What do you say, princess?"
A strangled mewl left your lips at the new angle, feeling him impossibly deeper in you, mind feeling hazy. "Y-yes!" You felt his chuckle against your neck, goosebumps visible on your skin.
"That's right."
OLIVER. SAE. Bachira. Nagi. Otoya. Ur fav
SATORU. Shiu. Hiromi. Hakari. Ur fav
SUCCESSFUL TRANSITION IN
when someone intentionally uses a FWB as a stepping-stone into a romantic relationship.
Your hands tangled into his hair as his head buried between your thighs, his hands on either side of them, holding you firmly in place. "Can't get enough of this perfect pussy." He looked up at you, mouth and chin glistening in your juices, cheeky grin on his lips.
His fingers slide through your folds, his breathing ghosting over your aching heat. "So pretty. All mine, my pretty girl." His mouth was back on your cunt, sloppily making out with your lips, whining into your pussy, hips subconsciously buckling against the sheets.
Your thighs locked around his head as you felt your orgasm washing over you, your angelic moans still reaching his covered ears, and he swore, he felt like he was in heaven.
His first step did indeed lead him to cloud nine.
Noa. RIN. BAROU. Chigiri. Sendo. Ur fav
Yuuta. CHOSO. MEGUMI. Nanami. Ur fav
TRANSITION OUT
when romantic partners decide to maintain a sexual relationship after a breakup.
"Pussy s' made for me." You bit your lip as his fingers deliciously curled up inside of you, teasingly caressing your g-spot. Your breathing turned erratic as his wrist speed up, leaning to your ear, his hot breath tickled your neck. "Still as good as in the good. Old. Days." With each word that rolled from his tongue, he accompanied sharp thrusts of his fingers.
"How about we try it again, hm?" Your eyebrows furrowed while sinful sounds escaped your lips, a chuckle erupting from his throat. "I'm just playing." His thumb attached to your sensitive bud, causing you to see stars, nearing your release. His head hung in your neck, attacking it with his lips, sucking marks onto it.
You let a mewl escape you at that, the familiar but also uncanny feeling of his lips against your tender skin bringing you closer to the edge.
"Can't hide this from your new plaything, you know that, right?"
KAISER. SHIDOU. Karasu. Chris. Ur fav
TOJI. Mahito. Sukuna. Naoya. Ur fav
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©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!
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lowkeycasanova · 1 month
Text
have a baby by me
trafalgar law x f!reader
Plot: Law wants to have another baby
warnings: smut, breeding kink (18+)
*pic isn't mine. all creds to the original owner, whoever you are*
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You blink open your eyes, realizing you’re in Law’s arms and his lips softly pressed to the skin on your shoulder. His leg is in between yours and you can feel his morning wood against your backside but that’ll be dealt with later.
Gently escaping his grasp, you slide off the bed and into the bathroom. Law should be waking up soon now. He usually wakes up minutes after you leave his arms.
You close the bathroom door, enveloping the quiet solitude of the morning. The soft glow of dawn peeks its way through the window casting a warm hue on the tiles as you make your way to the sink.
Before turning on the water, you pause. You senses heightened. You listen out for Damien in the fact that he might be awake. Usually you hear the pattering of his feet against the floor, or maybe he's playing with his toys and talking to himself. At least he sleeps through the night.
It's around his second birthday now and your mind drifts back to when you found out you were pregnant with him.
When your breasts started becoming tender, Law spectulated that you might be pregnant. You brushed him off because he came off as unserious. Also because you two weren't trying. Sure, you talked about it and you were both for having children, but it wasn't planned.
With him being a doctor, he started getting nervous when you started getting heartburn and when you finally began vomiting all the time, he went out and bought too many pregnacy tests and made you drink water until your stomach hurt.
Fast forward nine months after that, nothing woke him up faster when you went into labor that night. You were irritable and in pain for twelve hours. Thirty minutes into the second stage of labor, your son was born. He was born with a full head of dark hair and bright yellow eyes, just like father.
You named him Damien, he was the kind of baby that was constantly on the move. If he wasn't sleeping, he was exploring his surroundings.
He's a good kid. Sure, there are times where he throws his tantrums. He is a toddler after all and it's just his way of asserting his independence. However, there are times when he will patiently wait for his food and play quietly whenever Law took him to his office and worked.
And the rest of the crew were always down to help. Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi loved him. They were the only ones that could make Damien laugh as hard as he did. His face becomes red and he lets out this loud, yet infectiousbelly laugh.
Damien plays with them a lot.
As you finish up your morning routine, you hear that telltale morning groan. A smile comes across your face as you peek back into the bedroom, watching as Law slowly sits up, rubbing his eyes.
"Mhmm, good morning." he says in that deep, raspy voice that makes you want to jump on him. "Is Damien up yet?"
"Don't think so. But thank God he's not wailing in the middle of the night anymore."
"I kinda miss that."
You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"
Law shrugs. "It's just a reminder that he's getting older."
He reaches out his hand to you and you immediately walk over and grab it, letting him pull you back in bed. You sit against the pillows and he lays down on his side, his arms wrapping around your waist.
He lets out a sigh, trailing a fingertip along your arm as if he wanted your attention but didn't wanna ask for it.
"Do you need something?" you joke.
He rests his chin on your shoulder and looks up at you with a mischevous gaze in his eye.
"Do you want another baby?"
You tensed up and his inquiry hung in the air. Finally meeting his gaze, he continues to trace your arm and maintains eye contact. He's cautious though, hoping he didn't overstep a line by asking.
The weight of the question settling in you. Of course you wanted another kid. The joys that came with parenthood were undeniable, but it was also a lot of responsibility.
"It's something to think about, isn't it." you say with a soft smile, breaking the silence.
He grins and moves his hand from your arm to under your shirt, kneading the soft skin. "Let's have sex."
You chuckle in amusement. "Kids are a lot of work." you tell him and hug your arms around your waist, inadvertently pushing his out the way.
Law knows you too well. Your subtle action manifested because you still weren't in love with your body yet. He uses his palm to lift himself up and give you a kiss on the cheek. A sign to remind you that he still found you beautiful.
"Law," you begin in a soft voice. "I don't know." You don't tell him why- because he has the responsibility of being a captain to his crew and you would need all the help you can get raising the kids- but he knows.
"No, no, listen," he says and turns all of his attention to you. "I want to take a break from being out on the water. I've already talked it over with the crew. Traveling around like this, it's not safe for him." He pauses, squinting slightly. "I want our son to have a stable environment, go to school, make friends. I want him to have siblings to grow up with. We'll go back out to sea eventually, but for now, I want to live a different kind of life."
You studied his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the love he held for his family. Also, deep down, you think it's because he envisions his kids to have the life that he experienced, before it was taken from him.
You gently caress his lip with your fingertips and he puckers them, giving them a quick kiss.
"You really mean that, don't you?"
He nods.
You look up at the ceiling and slowly exhale. You have been wanting to discuss another baby but that would be coupled with the asking him to take a break from his work. But he's willing to do ut for you already. A smirk flashes across your face and you lean in to give him a kiss. "Let's have a baby then."
You don't need to tell him twice.
He maneuvers his body to face you, the lower half of your bodies still concealed by the sheets, and pulling you in for a searing kiss, tongues moving slowly with each other. You reach up and grab his hair to tug on it, just enough how he likes it. Feeling his hands on your waist, it's easy to lose track of time. But Damien's room is down the hall and he will be up any minute now.
While he's kissing you, he reaches down and pushes the fabric covering up your pussy to the side so he can use his hand to rub on the slick that's gathering in between your folds. His hand then sldies to the top of your underwear, fumbling with the fabric.
"Law don't-"
Too late. He's ripped them off before you can finish your thought, balled it in his fist and tossed them to the side.
"Sorry." he mumbles so casually before leaning back down to kiss you again. But you know he's not. He does this often.
His two middle fingers push themselves inside you, hitting that spot that you need. You lean in to press yourself into his neck to kiss him there. Mainly to keep your voice down.
"I'll buy you some more." he hums.
"You know," you say in a voice that's barely above a breath. "They're pretty good quality, and the fact that you can rip them off like that is pretty impressive."
His eyes darken with lust as your comment pratically fuels his ego.
"God." he mutters.
He moves to lay on his back, impatiently shuffling off the sheets as an invitation for you to straddle him. You accept it as you move one leg over his, reaching down to grab his cock to align it with your dripping pussy. You're wet enough so it doesn't take much effort to sink down on him. You love how he fills you up whole. You lean in to kiss him and he meets you halfway in an attempt to silence your moans, pulling away once your fully down on him.
He laughs halfheartedly when you give him a smile and you move your hips to try to adjust to him. His hands knead your ass and eyes squeeze shut as you pull up off him then slide back down. Since having a kid, you two haven't been having sex as often, but that doesn't matter. You'll always have to adjust to him.
"Mmph fuck me."
You bury your face into his neck again as you ride him, his hands helpng you out at a steady pace. The sounds of skin slapping fills the room along with your occasional whines and his occasional grunts as he thrusts into you. Your nails dig into his shoulders, surely to leave crescent marks behind. But you don't care and neither does he.
"You know what?" he says in a low voice. Your ear is right next to his mouth, so you have no choice but to listen. "I'm gonna fucking fill you up. Fill you up to the brim with my cum and force you to take all of it."
His words cause you to clench around him.
"Fuck, and then- mmph fuck- then I'm gonna do it again. I'm gonna fuck you again. I'm gonna fucking get you pregnant and watch you swell with my baby."
He palms your clit with just enough pressure to make you squirm, a hand still on your leg to encourage you to keep rocking your hips against him. You're overstimulated now. You clench and unclench and you finally reach your high.
"That's a good girl." he coaxes. "Now tell me how much you want my baby."
Your legs are exhausted from riding him for so long. At this point, all you want it for his to release inside you. "Please," your voice is desperate. "Want you to cum inside me. F-fill me up and get me pregnant."
In that second, he flips you over so you're on your back. Interlocking his fingers with yours and holding them above your head. He's thrusting into you so hard that the headboard is striking the wall. He grabs it to try to keep it stable. But all other ways to try to be quiet? Forget about it. Your hands aimlessly roam his back and he's groaning and his movements quivering.
"Oh my-fuck." He groans, slamming his hips into yours and you can feel him erupt. His head dips down into your neck as he releases, keeping his whole shaft inside, as deep as he can, and his tip as close to your cervix as possible. "Take it all, babygirl."
He pulls out and flops right down in front of you to where he's putting his weight on his bent knees. You're so tired, you can't even muster the energy to get up. So you lay there, still on your back with your legs open right where he can see.
You're a little embarrased that he's looking at you with that amazed expression. However, you begin to feel his cum seep out, so you take a hold of his cock and use the tip to sweep it back and deposit the white fluid back in.
Looking back up at him, he's left with his mouth agape.
"That...you...I..."
He's so astonished at your action, he can't even speak.
"You're so sexy."
He leans in with the intent of kissing you, but is interrupted by pattering against the floor on the other side of the door.
"Mama!"
You cover your face with the palm of your hand. Law quickly gets off of you and scrambles to put his pants on. "I got him. You stay right there."
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