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pedgito · 2 years

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alone, in my mind ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x afab!reader.

summary: so what if eddie munson had a really pretty face, it was just too good not to admire. so what if you liked to draw him in your free time, he definitely didn't mind. yet somehow, tutoring him still felt like the most scandalous thing you've ever done.

cw: 18+ content (minors, shoo!) afab!reader, virgin!reader, graphic smut (including p in v, oral, fingering, and all that jazz), orgasms, this is v dirty i'm sorry.

word count: almost 14k! don't judge me pls, i've been sitting on this for a few weeks.

prompt requests are always open!

alternate ao3 link

There was something therapeutic about sitting alone during lunch, watching chaos take place in front of you; from kids running around the cafeteria, traveling from table to table, conversing among themselves, yelling to each other from across the room, even standing up on tables like a stage and yelling out to the entire high school class. Eddie Munson was an enigma. You couldn’t figure him out. Other than him dealing you weed under the table and the occasional class you had with him, you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to him at one time.

So, he might find it slightly weird that you’ve drawn him in your sketchbook more than a few times. You couldn’t help it, that hair was just too glorious not to draw. But to be fair, you’ve drawn up a lot of the other students without speaking to them. A lot of it was pure observation—a student focused on a book they were reading, a group of the cheerleaders circled up and giggling among themselves, Jason Carver pictured in his actual form, the true evil of Hawkins. Sometimes you liked to draw devil horns on him for fun. No harm, no foul, you didn’t actually mean anything by it—you just hated how much he bolstered himself up at school, despite still paying you to write for his English homework. But hey, you gotta hustle where you can. He left you alone for the most part, anyways.

Once the bell rang and the last few stragglers were leaving the lunch room, you finally gathered your own things. Shoving the last minute homework into your bag and clutching the sketchbook to your chest, you leisurely walked your way to the exit. The sound of your pencil clanging to the floor beneath you had you pausing in your tracks.

Part of you just wanted to leave it, you had enough in your bag that it wouldn’t really matter anyways.

“Hey, this yours?” The voice asked.

You turned slowly, scanning the floor, stopping on the dirtied-up white sneakers that squeaked against the floor as they turned toward you. Of course it has to be Eddie.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You said softly, reaching forward to grab the pencil from him. The silence was apparent now, only the two of you left in the cafeteria.

“No problem.” He laughs slightly, “Oh hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” He leans in, lowering his voice—not that it really mattered since it was only you two, “I got a couple new strains in, if you want to meet up at the usual spot.”

Against your own rational thinking, your mouth spoke before your brain could process. “Sure.” You hadn’t even smoked the last bit of weed he’d sold to you yet.

He smiled, leaving wordlessly.

Sometimes it felt like life was happening around you and you weren’t even present, your body just did and said what it wanted.

“Oh, you fucking idiot.” You spoke to yourself.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Four o’clock. The woods just west of Hawkins High. Picnic table. That’s how you’d set up your meetings from the start. And of course, you were always right on time. Eddie however, he’d get here eventually. At least you hoped. Your shift at the Family Video started in a half hour and not that Keith would even take the chance to fire you, you just hated the idea of being late.

“Come on, Munson.” You grumble to yourself, checking the watch around your wrist. You sigh, sitting your bag on the table to grab your sketchbook, scribbling down a rough version of the wide expanse of trees in front of you.

“I’m late, I know.” A voice startles you from behind. The scream that leaves your mouth is involuntary, but you quickly cover it in an attempt to compose yourself.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie.” You tell him, pulling your hand from your mouth. “You can’t sneak up on people like that!”

“You okay?” He asks, chuckling lightheartedly. The question was genuine, though. The way his eyes connected with yours assured you of so.

“Sure, one tiny heart attack later.” You reply sarcastically.

“Hey, I was loud as fuck walking up.” Eddie says like he's trying to prove it to himself, pointing behind himself briefly. “You completely forget other things exist when you shove your head into that thing.”

You glance down at your book before promptly snapping it shut. “Shut up.” You say, no real bite behind it.

He threw his hands up in defeat. “Hey, just a harmless observation.” Not that you were bothered by him observing, but the fact that he had—it was surprising. He only ever talked about two things, Hellfire Club and D&D, which went hand in hand. But so much so, that he was almost hyper fixated on it.

“Anyways,” you say, shifting the subject. “I’ve got work in thirty—well, about twenty now,”

“Yadda, yadda, yeah—make it quick, I know.” He grins, placing his small chest of goodies on the table. You roll your eyes in annoyance, even if you weren’t really that annoyed in the first place. He slaps two baggies on the table, presenting them like prized possessions.

“Colombian Gold, Northern Lights.” He says, pointing them out individually. “Pick your poison.”

You tilted your head, deciding on which sounded better. Eddie interjects thoughtfully, “Personally, I’m a fan of that sweet, sweet Colombian Gold.”

You laugh quietly, nodding in agreement. “Fine then.”

“Twenty for the ounce.” He says, shoving the leftovers back into the metal chest.

You swing your bag around to dig for the pocket change, shoving your hand inside to grab for your wallet. But, there’s nothing there. Not the familiar chain or zipper that sticks out, nothing.

“Shit, shit.” You say suddenly, beginning to panic. You close your eyes shut, trying to retrace your steps. But it dawns on you, your wallet is probably sitting on your bedside shelf where you left it the night prior, coming back from your late night run to the store after leaving work. “I think I left my wallet at home.”

Eddie ponders for a moment, then shrugs. “Get me when you can, I know you’re good for it.”

You hated the idea of not paying him the money you owed, “I swear I’ll pay today. I can meet up with you after I get out of work or—“

Eddie snorts, walking forward and grabbing a pen that had fallen out of my bag during my wild search. He opens my palm, holding it firmly. He pulls off the cap of the pen, holding it between his teeth as he scribbles something on my hand.

You inspect it closely. It was an address. Eddie caps the pen and hands it back to you. “Can you stop there after work?”

You were apprehensive for a moment, but figured there couldn’t be much harm in it. “Yeah, I can try. I don’t get out until nine, though.”

“Works for me.” He tells you, shoving his hand in his back pocket to adjust the black handkerchief that was shoved in haphazardly. You snorted softly, shoving your things back into your bag as quickly as you could.

“Okay, well—I’ll see you then, I guess—“ You swung back around, coming directly in contact with Eddie’s chest, who hadn’t moved from his spot. Why hadn’t he moved? More importantly, why was he reaching down?

Fuck. You looked down to notice some of the papers from your sketchbook had sprawled out on the ground. You scrambled to gather the drawings back into the pocket of the book, hoping you could avoid another awkward encounter with Eddie today.

But, as luck would have it—“Damn, these are good.” Eddie says suddenly, holding up one drawing in particular, an offhand drawing off Steve while you had some downtime at work.

“Make sure you do my hair justice.” He’d told you. You laughed and smacked him in the back of the head softly.

“Is that Harrington?” He asks.

“…yeah.” You answer, trying not to die of embarrassment.

He glances at you, noticing your discomfort. “Shit, I’m sorry. Here.” Eddie hands the paper over, realizing he may have overstepped.

“Thanks.” You answer, taking the paper from his hand.

“Oh, hey-“ He interrupts, reaching down to grab another page that had fallen under the picnic table seat. “You forgot,” He pauses, looking at it closely, “one.” His voice is soft, thoughtful.

You curse inwardly, trying not to physically facepalm yourself.

“Is that me?” He asks, the smallest smile forming in his face. “Well, at least—-the back of me?”

You stutter for words, your brain suddenly lacking the English language entirely.

“Does my hair really look like that from the back?” He asks playfully, head tilted in curiosity.

“Ms. McNally’s class gets really boring.” You tell him, snatching the paper back. “Like, really boring.”

But no, his head definitely looked like that from the back, despite the unruly curls in his hair, there wasn’t a piece out of place.

“Glad to know the back of my head gives you some entertainment then.” It’s a lame attempt to lighten the mood, but it works. Your thankful his immediate reaction isn’t to find it odd or make fun of you, he almost seemed amused.

“Here.” He finally hands the page over. “No more peeking, I swear.”

You place the page back into your sketchbook carefully. Looking up, Eddie’s still standing there, though looking around aimlessly.

“Eddie, what are you still doing here?” You ask.

“Got another deal going on soon.” He tells you. “Top secret.” And if the wink didn’t make you blush, it was the grin that spread over his features, you shook your head and laughed it off.

“See you at nine, Munson.” You tell him, backpack slung over your right shoulder.

“Can’t wait.” He says playfully.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your bike squealed to a stop outside of Family Video, nearly burning rubber. Clocking in with thirty seconds to spare, you breath a sigh of relief.

“What’s got you riled up?” Steve asks, organizing the Horror section of movies from a few feet away.

“Nothing.” You grumble, setting your bag down and throwing the god awful work vest over your sweater.

“You just missed Keith, by the way.” He adds, shooting you a knowing but amused look.

“Thank god.” Keith had a small obsession with you, not that you were creeped out about it. He was just so hopelessly in love with you, which blinded his ability to see that you had no interest in returning the sentiment. “That’s the last thing I need.”

“It’s the undeniable charm you’ve got.” Steve jokes, shrugging casually. “The ladies and gents love it—right, Robin?”

Like a jack in the box, Robin pops up from where she’s squatted behind the counter.

“Stop teasing her.” Robin warms, throwing a VHS case at Steve’s head. It promptly smacks him in the forehead.

“Ow, what the hell?” Steve shouts, fingers touching his forehead for any sign of injury. Not that there would be any, Robin had barely hit him in the process and Steve was kind of dramatizing things. You’d still consider it one of his more positive traits, even if it did serve as more entertainment to you and Robin than anything.

“No, he’s right.” You play along. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

There’s a beat of silence and then you finally speak up.

“What do you guys make of Eddie Munson?” You asked, grabbing the stack of returned rentals to be checked through.

“The dude who’s been held back twice? Doesn’t he have that weird after school group thing he does?” Steve asks, looking between you and Robin.

“Yes.” You nod. “It’s a D&D club, Steve. Not a cult.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly. “He always seemed off to me.”

“Yeah and you were prancing around with Tommy and Carol most of junior year.” You reminded him. “Don’t you remember when Tommy hit me on my bike with his car during Spring Break? During that giant party he had at his house?”

Steve immediately looked regretful at judging Eddie.

“Thank god you found Robin.” You tell him, trying to make Steve feel less guilty about it all. Tommy had always been jealous of Steve, but Carol and her constant snarky remarks always egged Tommy on.

“Yeah!” Steve cheers, reaching over to high five Robin. She scoffs in annoyance, leave Steve’s unanswered high five hanging in the air.

“We both love chicks and boobies, it works out great.” Steve adds, returning hand to his side.

“He’s still learning.” Robin says quietly, leaning over toward you. “Why are you asking about Eddie anyways? Doesn’t he deal weed to the students?”

You shot Robin a knowing look.

“Oh. Oh.” She catches on. “Well, did something happen between you two?”

“No. Nothing, really. I just have to meet up with him after work and was wondering if I should be worried.” Robin didn’t seem to question as to why you would need to meet up with, which made you grateful.

“He doesn’t seem like that type of guy. Not to me, at least.” Robin assures, lowering her voice as the entrance bell jingled, signaling a customer. “But, you could always take your pocket knife with you.”

Your mouth dropped open at the suggestion, but to be fair, Robin just wanted to make sure you felt safe.

“Yeah—murder first, ask questions later.” You retort playfully.

“You’ve been watching too many scary movies with Steve.” Robin tells you.

“Hey, don’t knock ‘em til you try ‘em!” Steve says, greeting the customer as they walk by.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

You locked up for the night as soon as you could, making the short trek to your bike behind the back of the Family Video store. You pulled the small piece of paper you had scribbled on earlier, the address Eddie had left earlier started to smudge about an hour into your shift and you didn’t want to take any chances that it could last. And luckily, your mother had dropped your wallet off in the process of making her way to work that night, which was a lifesaver. The idea of biking home and then to Eddie’s made your legs hurt at the very possibility.

It was a ten minute bike ride away from the store, leading you down a long road that led to a dimly lit trailer park. The uneasiness set in immediately.

As if on cue, one of the poorly lit lamps sprinkled throughout the residence flickered a couple times before going out completely.

“Great. This is how I die.” You say to yourself, double checking the number on the paper so it matched with the trailer you were riding up to.

Everything seemed normal, the lights were on inside. Aside from the totally barren mobile home and Eddie’s truck parked in the driveway, nothing felt too grim about the whole situation. Normally, you’d be in a rush to get home and relax, but you knew your parents didn’t care one way or another, as long as you came home in one piece.

You sighed, stepping off and leaning your bike against the deck. If it wasn’t for the muffled music playing inside the trailer, you would assume whoever was there had left but forgot to turn their lights off. You reach forward to knock tentatively on the flimsy screen door.

There’s a rustling from the back of the home, the sudden silence of music being turned off, then a twisting of the doorknob as the door creaked open.

“Well, well, well.” Eddie says, grinning at you through the screen door. “I didn’t think you’d ever show.”

“It’s only five after nine, Eddie.” You tell him, reaching around into your bag to make things quick.

“It was just a—nevermind,” He mumbles quietly to himself, “Whatcha got for me, princess?”

You curled your head to the side subtly, but didn’t think anything of the harmless and playful endearment. Save it, bookmark it, stow it away for later. You slide him the twenty, he eyes it for a moment. “You know,” he begins, arm resting against the trim of the door, “I’d take that drawing of me over the twenty if you’re willing to fork it over.”

“Are you serious?” You ask, hand frozen in place from where Eddie was hanging onto the bill.

“Deadly.” He tells you, tongue smoothing over the teeth that showed through his grin.

You debated, not sure why he was so interested in the first place.

“Why don’t you want the money?” You ask.

“You’ve bought enough from me, I think that warrants a little discount.” He shrugs, like it wasn’t a big deal at all.

“You’re so weird, Munson.” You reply, pulling out the sketchbook and handing the drawing over.

“Got anymore?” He asks jokingly, albeit a little curious.

“I’ll let that remain a mystery, thank you.” You tell him, snapping the book closed. He holds the drawing up to the light, watching him scan over it admiringly.

“It’s really good, you know. You probably draw a lot of kids at school, don’t you?” He asks and you’re not sure where his sudden interest in conversation with you is coming from. Both of you didn’t interact outside of deals—this reality almost didn’t feel tangible.

“Sometimes.” You answer skeptically, “Not all the time, though.”

“We’ll, I’m honored.” He says, noting one of the small details in the background. “Did you make Ms. McNally resembles a hobbit on purpose?”

You snorted at that. It was something, in hindsight, that you’d completely forgotten about. “She was really pissing me off that day.”

“Nice.” He laughs to himself, finally setting the drawing down on a table out of view. “Anyways, don’t worry about the twenty. You’re covered.”

“You really don’t have to do that, Eddie. I can pay.” You felt guilty at the thought, but Eddie seemed pretty serious about the whole ordeal.

“Nope. We’re good.” He tells you, flashing you his trademark smile. He still hadn’t changed his school earlier, brandishing his Hellfire Club tee proudly.

“Okay,” You draw out, dragging the last letter a bit. “Well, I’ll see you at school tomorrow then.”

“Aye, aye.” He replied in mock salute, coming to stand at attention.

You couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the act, it was undeniably goofy, but adorable in its own right. He shut the door slowly, waving you a sweet goodbye as he finally disappeared.

And despite all efforts, there was one giant fucking elephant in the room that you couldn’t ignore–because not only was Eddie devastatingly beautiful, he was charming as hell, which was something you had overlooked for far too long.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Stupid. Fucking. Lockers.” You grumble to yourself, slamming the locker shut with every word. It was as if the world was setting you up for the shittiest day possible. It started with you sleeping through your alarm, burning the toast you’d made for breakfast, and somehow managing to spill orange juice all over your jeans in the small span of an hour–so not only were you on your second pair of jeans, you were ready to slam your head against the locker in defeat, ready to be put out of this complete, utter misery that had been your Friday morning.

“Woah, woah.” The voice carried down the hall, you peeked behind you.

Eddie Munson was heading right for you. You turned and sighed, slamming the locker again for good measure.

“Lucky for you, I’ve got just the touch.” Eddie assures you, wiggling his fingers in your face.

You tried to ignore every flipping feeling in your stomach at the sight of it.

It took him a second, but he swiftly lifted the locker door in a quick motion and slammed it close, that time for good. He’s smiling down at you–again, with that annoying, shit-eating grin.

“No. Don’t even start.” You tell him, finger pointing accusingly. “My morning has been horrible. I don’t need jokes, right now.”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to walk to English together?” He replied, looking slightly defeated. “If that’s okay?”

“Oh.” You frowned. It still didn’t feel right to be conversing in front of your peers, like it was almost illegal. “I mean, I don’t see why not. But, Eddie–”

“Yep?” He asks, turning on his heels. You both had English together, which most of the time, was spent staring directly at the back of his head because you couldn’t be bothered to listen to Ms. McNally’s grating voice for more than a few minutes at a time.

“Why are you talking to me?” You ask, genuine and honest. There had never been any reason not to before, but why now?

“You seemed a little scary–well, not scary, scary–but like, she could definitely break my fingers if I said the wrong thing to her–that type of scary.” He explains in one breath, fiddling with the rings on his right hand.

Fair enough, considering the pocket knife you did carry in your bag for instances like that. There were too many assholes and you had plenty of ways to deal with them.

“Ah.” You replied, as if it all made sense. “Well, the jury's still out.”

“I’ll try and remember that.” He tells you, laughing slightly. “I also just wasn’t sure you liked talking to anyone from school–I mean I get that, but I just wanted to make sure you knew that you don’t have to sit alone at lunch like you do–”

“I don’t mind it–” You interject.

“I know. I’m just saying. Our table wouldn’t mind. The guys usually don’t know how to talk to girls, so most of them don’t say anything anyways.” He assures you.

The friendliness caught you off-guard. It seemed genuine, but you were also waiting for the catch.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

The teacher slaps the graded test onto your desk, brandishing a bright red A. You quickly shove it under your textbook, glancing up as you hear the rustling of Eddie swiveling around to face you from his seat.

“All good?” You ask, mostly in an attempt to be friendly. But, you can’t help but notice the giant circled F on his paper. You’d heard lots of stories about Eddie and his inability to pass, being held back, and every lousy nickname that came along with that. People liked to pick on Eddie because he was different, he didn’t fit in with anyone at Hawkins, and while you might be able to get away with slipping under the radar–Eddie couldn’t.

“I could tutor you, you know.” You suggest, instantly regretting the words the moment they leave your mouth.

“Seriously?” He asks, looking caught off guard. “I appreciate it but–”

“Seriously.” You say, “English is my best subject and as long as you put in the same effort I am, I could at least get you up to a C.” In for a penny, in for a pound…I guess.

“That’s–yeah, that’s cool. I’m kinda busy with Hellfire most days though–” He starts, rolling the paper up in his hands. It was a small detail, but you noticed how often he used his hands when he liked to fidget, whether it be his rings or a poor piece of paper being strangled to death.

“Weekends are good.” You assure him. “I work a lot during that week so I wouldn’t have time anyways.”

Eddie nods slowly. He seemed apprehensive, like he didn’t really deserve the help you were offering. His jaw was clenched, eyes downcast.

“Eddie, I don’t mind.” You told him, offering a small smile to ease whatever worry he was feeling. “It's just–we’ll have to study at your place though, not mine.”

You didn’t even want to begin to explain the ordeal to your parents, as understanding as they may be–any site of a boy and your parents would be seething at the idea.

“My uncle is gone most of the time, so I guess that works out.” He shrugs.

The sound of the teacher clearing her throat from a few rows over interrupts you both. You roll your eyes inconspicuously, turning in your chair.

Eddie taps your leg softly, having already turned around in his chair. You look underneath the desk to find a small piece of paper between his thumb and middle finger. Prying it from his fingers.

You unfold it quietly, fingers smoothing over the creases in the paper. 'Tmrw at 4?' It read it dark blue ink. His handwriting wasn’t as messy as you expected, you quickly scribbles a ‘Yep :)’ adding the smiley face for fun. Maybe this was a good thing, you could make it a good thing. Helping someone bump their grade and maybe make a friend in the process—what’s the worst thing that could happen?

You slid the paper over his shoulder, ignoring the way his fingertips brushed against yours. You didn’t see him unfold the paper, but the way his shoulder shook with silent laughter was a good sign. He pocketed the paper for safekeeping.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, but what you couldn’t see was the same smile that Eddie shared with you.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

The cafeteria was already packed by the time you had arrived, the hustle and bustle of kids grabbing their food and chit chatting like it was musical chairs was enough to drive you insane. You quickly ducked your head, attempting to make your way to your usual spot in the corner of the lunch room.

The hand that grabs your wrist stops you in your tracks. There’s a moment where you’re ready to swing back in retaliation.

“Hey, want to sit with us?” He asks. He was really starting to throw you off.

The idea of going from speaking in short, clipped—and sometimes one word answers, to full fledged conversations was not something you were used to. The only two people you talked to that much, outside of your parents, was Robin and Steve. And maybe Steve was a cop out, you two practically grew up together, toppling over each other as babies.

“Uh, I don’t know—“ You begin, but the bellowing, boisterous voice of Dustin Henderson overpowers your own.

“Steve graduated already, you gotta make new friends eventually.”

That little fucking twerp. Him and Steve together in one place was a nightmare.

“I will murder you, Henderson. Don’t try me.” You threatened.

“You wouldn’t.” He counters.

“Try me.” You quirk your eyebrow. “Remember what Steve told you about summer of ‘84?”

Your voice was lowered, but it didn’t seem like anyone was paying any attention, aside from the people sitting at Eddie’s table. It was like they had front row tickets to the most talked about movie in town. Dustin’s eyes widened in fear.

“He also told me about that time you two—“ You quickly shoved your hand over his mouth, stopping him from saying what was possibly the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done. He muffled the rest of whatever he was saying into your hand.

“Don’t you dare.” You say seriously, fingers pinching the tip of his ear. His hands fly up, signaling his white flag of defeat.

“You’re so mean sometimes.” He whines, rubbing his tender ear.

“You’ll live, Henderson.” You assure him, bumping him aside with your hip to take a seat.

Eddie had been watching with intrigued amusement the entire time, not sure how well you and Dustin actually knew each other until now. And apparently, it was entirely too much.

“Not gonna eat?” Eddie asks, noticing your lack of a lunch tray.

“I hate big crowds. I usually just wait until everyone sits down.” You say softly, setting your bag on your knees to rest your arms on.

“Here.” Eddie says, sliding his uneaten apple and bag of carrots over like it was a game of poker and he was dividing up his chips. “For now, at least.”

“I’m fine, honestly.” You laugh lightheartedly, but take the fresh fruit and vegetable anyway.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your halfway through lunch when you lock eyes with Jason, who’s practically burning eyes into your skull. He motions toward the door leading to the back of the school, hoping you’d get the signal.

It made him look ridiculous more than anything. You’d already planned to meet up with after lunch earlier on in the week, but Jason never seemed like he was focused on anything other than basketball or Chrissy—which fair, Chrissy was a great girl.

You leave without much of a word, other than a smile and a pat on Dustin’s shoulder, hoping he’d get the message. He knew just as much as Steve did about your arrangement with Jason, considering Dustin and Steve were practically conjoined twins, at this point. He clears his throat, distracting Eddie with something about their meeting tonight so you could sneak away without worry.

When you’re finally outside, Jason is pacing, not nervously, but definitely impatiently. “You got it?” He asks.

You pause, “…Yeah.” You answer him, pulling the midterm paper out of your bag and handing it over, he quickly snatches it away and slides you over the money he promised.

“Jesus, Jason. This isn’t a drug deal. Chill out.” You finally find the courage to say.

“If anyone finds out about this, I could lose my chance at any type of scholarship, you know?” He tells you, and you don’t even want to begin to hear his sob story. His parents could buy his way into any school he wanted, though you appreciated his poor attempt to manage it himself.

“Hmm, well maybe—just maybe, you shouldn’t be asking people to write your papers for you then.” You snark back, zipping your backpack closed aggressively for good measure. “Figure this shit out yourself, Jason. I’ve got work, my own school stuff, and plenty of other shit to worry about. I don’t need you hounding me for a paper that you could finish on your own in a night if you actually took the time.”

“But basketball is my priority.” He tells you, you join in to mock him at the same time.

“Fuck off, Jason.” Enough was enough. Jason was nothing but a problem, even after all the pain and embarrassment he’d put you through a couple years prior. “Ask your perfect, pretty little girlfriend to do the work for you.”

And for once, he finally looked defeated. But, he was smart in not responding. He shoved his way past you, making his way back inside. You don’t remember how the arrangement between you two started initially, or why you fell pity to him after the stunt he pulled a couple years ago—you figured you were more desperate for the money at the time, sacrificing and swallowing your pride in the process. But now? Fuck that.

You could just ditch the rest of the day, which didn’t sound entirely too awful, but it was rash and you didn’t like to act on impulse, which you’d been doing entirely too much of lately.

“Pull it together.” You remind yourself before forcing yourself through the rest of what was already a horrible day.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Steve tagged along to lock up with you tonight, considering you two had plans to hang out tonight and he had picked you up from school that evening as a favor.

“What’s got you so tense?” He asks, swinging his keys around his pointer finger.

“Everything.” You sigh through clenched teeth, outwardly groaning as you take a seat in Steve’s car. “God, my feet are killing me.” You quickly toe your shoes off on the floorboard of his car and curl your legs up criss cross.

“Care to elaborate?” He pushes, backing out of the parking lot to pull out on the main road. “Everything is just like a blanket statement, you know. You know I’m never gonna repeat anything you tell me to anyone, ever.”

“Except Dustin.” You remind him.

“Okay, that was fair game. You told him some embarrassing stuff about me. I couldn’t just stand there and watch.” He laughs, you try to hold back your own laughter but it bubbles out soon after.

“It’s just—the shit with Jason, trying to keep up with school, my parents hounding me all the time, and then I promised Eddie I would help him with English—which, you know how my motor mouth works, once I get an idea it just comes out, it’s impossible to stop it.” And god was that a fucking breath of relief to finally let out.

“You’re still doing Jason’s schoolwork?” He asks, slightly disappointed in you. It was understandable, he hated him just as much as you.

“Only the important stuff. Essays, the higher graded stuff, you know. It’s easy money.” You tell him, but it sounds like a lousy excuse.

“Let’s not forget he embarrassed you in front of the entire basketball team and cheerleaders last year.”

“Which was partly your responsibility, Steve.” You remind him. But, it was so far in the past that you couldn’t be mad at him. Holding a grudge against Steve was like hating your own brother and you couldn’t do it. Your gut was pointing to every possible sign to say no to Jason, but Steve gave you the push you’d needed that night.

“I thought it was genuine. I’m sorry.” Steve tells you, you could see the way he paused, swallowed, thinking back on the memory.

“Anyways. I’m just stressed. Not that I can’t handle it, but Eddie’s been acting unnaturally friendly with me and it’s kind of giving me weird vibes.” You admit, like trusting Eddie was just too good to be true. Not weird in the way that made you want to run in the opposite direction, but the way that made your stomach clench in anticipation—and occasionally your thighs. Eddie had always been attractive, but only from a distance.

“Just keep your guard up, that’s always the best option.” He says honestly. “Not that you don’t already have the personality of a brick wall.”

You promptly hit Steve in the shoulder, watching him yell and reach for the spot where you’d landed the blow. “Ouch!”

“I'm not that boring you pompous ass!” You replied in playful disbelief. Steve slowly pulled into the driveway of his home, gradually letting the car come to a stop.

“Have you ever heard yourself talk?” He asks, voice teasing.

“And I sound like I have the voice of a thousand fucking angels, Harrington.” You assure him, shoving him to the side as you both raced to the front door.

“You mean a thousand fucking gremlins.”

You gasped outwardly, caught entirely off guard by his response. “Steve!”

⋆·˚ ༘ *

You wake up Saturday morning with everything Steve had told you fresh in your mind.

No getting too close. Don’t talk about anything personal. Take the arrangement for what it was. Studying, that was it. You rarely got nervous around boys, but Eddie, you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Which was exactly why your heart was pounding out of your chest as you knocked on his front door. You silently prayed he’d answer the door quickly, the sweltering sun doing nothing to help your pale skin. You pulled your shorts down where they had ridden up on the bike ride here, the unnecessary sweater covering your plain tee proving to be nothing but a giant heat trap.

“Princess.” There it was again, the soft tone in his voice and the teasing smile that painted his face. “Welcome to the Munson residence, once again.”

“I’m dying out here.” You deadpan, hiking your bag up higher over your shoulder.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie fumbles with the door knob, swinging the door open. “Come in.”

You quickly step inside, watching as he closes the door behind you. It wasn’t much cooler, but it was definitely a welcomed change from the heat outside.

“You know, the sweater might be your problem.” He says as he makes his way beside you, leading you toward the back room. “Not that I’m judging, I’m just sure you’d suffer from heatstroke if I left you out there another five minutes.”

“And then I’d come back and haunt the shit out of you.” It was a lame attempt at a joke, but the response from Eddie has you snapping back into defense mode.

“Promise?” Your cheeks burn a dark shade of crimson, which you lamely attempt to hide by turning to dig into your bag and fish out some of your English notes and one of the books the class was currently focusing on.

“I figure we should probably go over the paper from the other day, so I could explain what you got wrong and why, if you don’t mind?” You change the subject entirely, taking a seat on his bed. It smelt like fresh linen, it was made neatly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t that. Even you didn’t take as much time to make your bed that often, at least not as neatly as this. To each their own though—maybe Eddie was a bit of a neat freak, not that you minded.

“Sure.” He agrees, taking a seat on his bed beside you, although a comfortable distance away. You could appreciate him respecting boundaries, even if you could still smell the cologne he was wearing, not that it was distracting…at all.

His interest is genuine as you explain through the test, even if much of it isn’t sticking with him, he’s still asking questions and staying engaged more than you anticipated. Even you were ready for a break after an hour of endless talk of metaphors in literature and the re-explaining of Macbeth in detail.

“My fucking brain hurts.” Eddie sighs, laying down, hands crossed over his stomach. You try not to stare at the small patch of hair at the end of his stomach, leading down just past the tip of his belt. Or the way his surprisingly toned stomach stretches against the shirt he’s wearing—which was just a plain, black shirt, surprisingly enough. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen him without any type of Hellfire or metal band shirt on his body. Not that you noticed. Not at all.

Your brain finally stutters back awake at the feeling of his finger poking your thigh. “Huh?” You asks.

“I said, if you’re hot you can take off the sweater—that really can’t be comfortable.”

He was right, it wasn’t. But part of it was because it was like a safety blanket. Also, it was just one of your favorites. You let your brain run on autopilot, slipping it over your head. You tried not to think much of it, thankful your shirt was baggy enough that it didn’t reveal to much of you. Even if your shorts were scandalous in their own right. You had to pick and chose your battles.

You toss the sweater onto his nightstand, noting the paper that falls to the floor as a result. Your drawing, he’s moved into his room, at least. Which was both comforting and odd. You couldn’t understand the interest he’d had in it in the first place, but you weren’t really in a place to question it.

“I’ve been meaning to tape it up somewhere.” He mentions, noticing the way you stared at the lonely piece of a paper. “Not that my wall isn’t already covered in stuff.”

It was the first time you’d actually found the chance to take it all in. Posters, an amp—Eddie definitely came across as a guitar guy, so there wasn’t much surprise there, nightstands littered with random crap—your eyes immediately snapped toward the cuffs on the wall and quickly glanced over. There was no way you were touching on that topic, no fucking way.

“I’d be honored.” You joke, tapping your pencil against your notebook.

“Do you take it with you everywhere?” He asks curiously. “That sketchbook, I mean. I’ve never seen you without it until now.” He laughs innocently, adjusting himself to lean up and back onto his outstretched arms.

“It’s…in my bag.” You say quietly, almost embarrassed at the fact that he read through you so well.

“Can I see some other stuff?”

If there was a way to make you go into cardiac arrest with one sentence, Eddie Munson had found it.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to. I just think it’s cool. At least, from what I’ve seen.” He says openly, gesturing toward the drawing you had given him.

“They’re really not that good, a lot of them are just rough sketches and—I mean, you might find this weird but—“ Don’t mention that fact that you totally draw him a lot—like he won’t notice it the second he opens the book. You had a valid excuse, you just didn’t want to come across as a total creep.

“Just show me.” He smiles, nudging your leg again.

You reach for the book buried in your bag and hand it over. There wasn’t any shame behind the stuff in there, but the way everyone perceives art is so different that the idea of any type of comment or criticism was your worst nightmare.

He flips through slowly, landing on the particular one of Jason you drew from a few days prior. “Now that one’s spot fucking on.” He chuckles to himself, the tiny little devil horns was a nice detail, he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did in the process of drawing it out.

He flips through the next few pages, nodding silently. The anticipation driving a hole through your chest, you couldn’t even comprehend why you were doing this right now. Every single thing that Steve told you flew right out of the window.

He flips another page and you interrupt quickly, “Before you say anything. You have a great hair for drawing, I don’t mean for it to come off as weird but it’s honestly helped me improve a lot.”

“No, no.” He shrugs, “I dig it. I guess I’m kinda your muse, in a way.”

That’s definitely not where you expected that to go. Actually, it was completely left field. So many miles away from where you planned.

“Not exactly.” You assure him. “I just—your hair is really distracting in class. And your side profile is really nice—“ You can feel yourself starting to ramble, the giant Cheshire grin on Eddie’s face only making things worse. “I’m just going to shut up before I embarrass myself more.”

Eddie closes the book and hands it over gingerly, “I really don’t mind. I’m serious.” He means it, you know that. “It’s fucking ridiculous how detailed you are.”

“I-“ You laugh softly, “nevermind. Thank you. Just…thanks, Eddie.”

You were so pleased in the fact that if there was anyone to see your work, someone you considered more of a stranger than a friend, like Robin or Steve, that it was Eddie.

“Anyways, we should probably, you know, get back to work.” You interject after a while of awkward silence, not sure how to move on from the topic.

“Cool with me.” He nods.

The next couple hours pass quickly, finally packing up your stuff after the long tangent Eddie went off on about D&D and the inner workings of it, which was a lot more interesting than you expected.

“Oh hey, you ever get to try out the weed I gave you the other day? It’s pretty damn sweet, right?” He says handing you the pencil you’d lended him.

“Actually, I haven’t.” You admitted. “I’ve been so busy with work that I completely forgot.”

He holds the joint between his fingers like he’d been keeping it stowed away for safekeeping, waiting for the right moment.

“My parents are going to ground me for life if I come home high.” Okay, it was a bit of an over exaggeration, but still buried in truth, nonetheless. “Let alone even smelling like weed.”

“Do you not realize who you’re talking to?” Eddie asks, he tried to seem offended, but it definitely came off as more of a joke. “Come on, miss perfect. We can just smoke it outside.”

You scoff in annoyance, knowing you were far from any type of perfect. “I have to be home in an hour, Eddie. If you get me in trouble with my parents, I swear to god.”

“I know—you’ll murder me and bury me in your backyard.” He jokes, knowing it’s all mostly playful. “Then I’ll come back to haunt your ass.”

You chuckle, your own words coming back to bite you. “Promise?” You ask, in an attempt to one up him.

You weren’t really expecting a response, but he gave you one anyway. “Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.” Eddie teases, bumping his shoulder against yours.

You smiled to yourself, adoring the way that Eddie charmed himself out of any situation with ease. He lit up the joint on the short walk to the wooded area away from his home, safe from any random bystanders that may decide to wander by.

“First hit?” He asks, handing it over to you,

“Such a gentleman.” You reply, hand over your heart. You took a long hit, inhaling until your lungs couldn’t take it and the slight burn lingered in the back of your throat, breathing out slowly through your nose.

For the first time, the silence is comforting. You pass the joint back and forth wordlessly until there’s practically nothing left.

“The stars are so pretty here.”

“Yeah.” Eddie answered after a while, staring directly at you.

You tried to ignore it, the heat of his gaze burning into the side of your face.

“The deeper you get into the city, the less you can really see.”

He hummed to himself, “Totally.”

He hadn’t heard a word you said, too focused on the way you were mindless focused on the sky, mesmerized by something so simple.

“God, I don’t think I’ve ever been this high.” You sigh to yourself, feeling like you were having an out of body experience. Your body didn’t feel like you own, even these clothes felt foreign, the way you ran your fingertips over them. “You’re a really bad influence, Eddie.”

You finally lock eyes with him after a few minutes. He was in a complete daze, high out of his mind–you weren’t even sure if he was still on the same planet as you, which obviously, but there was no way he was leaving this picnic table without some assistance. You take a quick glance at your watch, feeling yourself jump back into reality almost immediately.

“Shit, I’m so dead.” You panic, clumsily placing your feet on the ground–any faster and you probably would’ve twisted your ankle. “I have to go, right now.”

“I can give you a ride, if you need it.” Eddie suggests, but it’s far, far–literally a galaxy away, from the safer option of biking home high.

“I need to ride off the smell anyway, I’ll manage.” You tell him, rather than declining his offer outright. You hesitate for a moment before lending your hand out, gripping his in an effort to pull him up.

“No smoke sessions tomorrow, Eddie. I’m serious.” You point an accusing finger at him, watching as he follows it, then looks up at you with his stupid, dopey smile. “I’m fucking serious.”

Super duper serious. Strictly business from this point forward.

“Fine.” He agrees in defeat, finding his own footing. “But, I’ll definitely feel like an ass if you don’t let me drive you home.”

There was no way Eddie could even put a coherent thought together right now.

“I’ll be fine. I swear.” You tell him, smiling sweetly. He didn’t seem like the type to push back thankfully and dropped the argument there. “See you tomorrow, Munson.”

You leave in a rush, blinded by the idea of having to explain any of this to your parents, and only once you’re home, after a very bumpy, sobering ride–you realize the one very important thing you left behind–your school bag.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

It shouldn’t be something you were worried about, Eddie had already looked through the one possession you were most insecure about–but still, the idea of being thrown so far off your game that you would leave your bag behind was enough to have you showing up at Eddie’s trailer bright and early, the morning dew still stuck to the grass and the birds chirping away at nothing.

You should have figured Eddie wouldn’t be fully dressed when he answered the door, but you weren’t really sure what you were expecting exactly. Still, the door creaking open and revealing a half naked Eddie, boxer-briefs leaving little to imagine–your eyes immediately snap back from where they’d lingered, because nothing about Eddie seemed little, not in the way he was towering over you, right now. Was he really that tall? Huh.

“What can I do for you on this fine–” He begins, voice still fighting through sleep, a yawn escaping him.

“I left my bag last night.” You blurt out. “I just need it back.”

It all seemed ridiculous, in hindsight—showing up like this.

“Uh, yeah–” He looks around, trying to gain his bearings. “It’s on my bed–I think.”

He nods in the direction of said bedroom, swinging the door open to welcome you inside. You side-stepped wide enough to avoid his shirtless chest, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like you were literally going to burst into flames at the slightest touch. Whatever high you had last night was gone, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that you still found Eddie attractive, sober or not.

You move around silently, flipping his blankets around to dig for your bag. He’s standing in the hallway now, just outside the doorway that leads to his room. His arms crossed over his chest tightly, still desperately attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Eddie Munson was nowhere near a morning person, but that made perfect sense in hindsight.

“Gotcha!” You celebrate quietly, throwing the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask—” His voice startles you, “how do you know Henderson?”

It was a weird way to start a conversation, but Eddie wasn’t one to dwell on semantics on proper conversation starting.

“Him and Steve are a package deal.” You explain, like it was the cure all.

“Oh.” You can see the gears turning in his head. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”

“I’ve known Steve since I was in diapers.” You admit, finally catching his gaze. “We’ve been friends for a really long time.”

“So that stuff at lunch the other day–” You had managed to push that so far out of your mind that you were surprised Eddie had even remembered. He was a curious person, you couldn’t really blame him, but the thought of explaining any of it to him was the last thing on your mind.

“Long story.” You laugh it off, feeling eager to escape now. “Anyways, I’ll be over at four. Is that still good for you?” You ask.

He nods silently, angling his body to let you through–because god, why was this hallway so fucking tiny? You clear your throat and quickly move past him, practically jogging toward the door. The faster you escape, the better.

“Later, Princess.” He adds–and you bite down on nothing but air, teeth clenched. He was trying to be coy and you knew it.

“Bye, Eddie.” You reply, lamely attempting to force the nervousness out of your voice. You’ve never forced your legs to pedal so fast in your life, feeling like jello by the time you arrived home.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Why the fuck do they talk like that?” Eddie asks, looking up at you from where he was stretched out on his bed, legs kicked up lazily behind. The soft sound of a random rock song you don’t know the name of playing on the radio to fill in as ambient noise.

“It’s archaic and prose.” You answer simply. “It makes a lot more sense the more you read it.”

“Well, I needeth a break, M’lady.” He jokes, forced accent and all.

“That actually wasn’t bad.” You admit, closing the book that you’d place between you both.

At some point, you’d ended up in a similar position, sprawled out beside Eddie, head resting in the palm of your hand.

“Not to boost your ego or anything, but you’re a pretty good tutor.” Eddie says, twirling the pencil between his fingers slowly.

“Whatever.” You shrug off lightheartedly.

And you can feel the impending question before it even leaves his mouth–blame it on your amazing intuition, but Eddie was also incredibly predictable sometimes.

“You want to know what Dustin and I were talking about during lunch, don’t you?” You ask, eyeing him carefully.

He shrugs, “I’m just a little curious, I guess.”

Fair enough. It might feel good to get off your chest anyways–not to mention half the school already knew about the instance.

“Jason asked me to meet up with him during that back to school bonfire they were having, right before Junior year–you remember? Anyways, I talked to Steve about it. He kinda pushed me toward it initially, he was the only reason I even went–I used to have a huge crush on Jason–horrible, now that I think about it. To make a long story short, he made this whole elaborate show about how he liked him and I ended up half naked in front of him, standing on the dock at his parent’s lake house, but the entire basketball and cheer team watched the entire thing happen. I didn’t realize until I heard them laughing from the bushes. There’s a picture, somewhere, I’m sure–I just try to block it out of my memory.” You explain slowly, enough time had passed that you could think about it without bursting into tears from embarrassment, but it was still terrifying to say out loud. “Steve felt really bad about all of it. I know he didn’t know any of that was going to happen, but I just took a lot of my frustration out on him.”

Eddie was eerily quiet, like he was attempting to soak all the information in. You tried not to gauge his reaction too much, knowing that pity was a normal reaction from most people.

“And then,” You say on a deep breath, “Steve and I got really drunk and made out and it was fucking weird. We joke about it now, but it was just…a lot of mistakes in one night, so I try to forget about it.”

“Good to know that Jason’s still a total dick.” He adds, not like that wasn’t already obvious. “I can’t believe you made out with Harrington.”

You want to gag at the long, distanced memory. “It wasn’t my best moment.” You agree.

“So, yeah–Dustin knows a couple secrets about me. And now you do–but if you tell anyone–Eddie–”

“I won’t.” You can see the seriousness on his face, coming from his voice.

“Swear?” You ask

“Pinky swear.” He answers, holding up his ringed pinky finger. You hesitate for a second before wrapping your own pinky finger around his.

He doesn’t let go. But to be fair, neither do you. He’s looking at you, not ogling, but admiring–although, it definitely could’ve been interpreted as him checking you out. You avert your attention to the intricate design of the ring on his finger, making some attempt to break the heavy, thick blanket of tension that had fallen over the both of you. It wasn’t like you’d never laid in bed with a boy before–you could lay and talk with Steve for hours, but Steve didn’t look at you the way Eddie did, not ever.

You clear your throat softly, twisting the ring with the few fingers that weren’t interlocked with his, both of your hands now resting against the soft duvet. “Is that a pig?” You ask lightheartedly. The answer never comes.

Instead, “Can I kiss you?” Eddie asks, almost too timid to be his own voice.

Your mouth hangs open for a half second, before you force yourself to pull it together. And you’re pretty sure your heart was making a desperate attempt at beating its way out of your chest. You nod slowly, leaning forward before you can even think about stopping yourself.

His lips were soft, gentle–but firm in the way they pressed against yours. You only had a couple other experiences to compare this too, but it was obvious that Eddie had confidence in his own abilities. You pulled back after a few seconds, wetting your lips nervously. Eddie followed the way the tip of your tongue dragged over them, the heat from the breathy exhale he let out fanning over your face.

“You never answered my question.” You say softly, eyes flicking up to look at him. His gaze still locked on your lips, you repeat yourself once more, this time calling him out directly. “Eddie, you never answered my question.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a pig.” He says, eyes finally locking with yours. “It’s a stupid fucking pig.” His voice is strained, breathy–and you’re just as sure as he is in the fact that you can’t believe this is even happening.

And even if you may end up regretting the decision later, you decide to put him out of his misery. Letting go of his hand completely, hand settling and finding a place to call home against the back of his neck, you pull him forward. He grunts slightly, almost inaudible as you press your lips against his own, more delicate than he had. In the way that he was entirely too sure of himself, you had restraint, hesitance. You let a long, breathy sigh and try to ignore the way your body shivers with nervousness and anticipation.

Eddie takes the opportunity to find his way past your lips, teasingly dragging his tongue against your own. Your brain could literally short circuit at the thought of his mouth being anywhere else on your body, even now you could feel yourself screaming internally and if you weren’t so goddamn turned on, you probably would just scream out loud.

His hand found your waist at some point, playing with the frayed fabric attached to the bottom of your shirt, kissing you fervently, playfully–and like the tease he’s proven to be, he bites down on your bottom lip gently, for good measure.

“Eddie,” You breath out, pulling back. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him, only following the way his hand is massaging the dip in your waist, “studying, remember?”

“Shit.” He curses to himself, allowing himself to drop back into reality. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You assure him, knowing that studying was the last thing you were hoping to focus on now.

“I didn’t mean to overstep, I’m sorry if–” Eddie starts, and you can’t help but feel like a sucker for the way his voice stutters over the apology. And studying be-fucking-damned, you had plenty of other time to help him out. You had to allow yourself to self-indulge, at least once, and regret it later.

“Fuck it.” You sigh, shoving your belongings out of the way and pulling him toward you again.

He immediately takes the advantage of being above you, slotting his own legs between yours, still remaining enough distance that you both wouldn’t simultaneously combust from the idea of grinding against each other, though you weren't sure how long that would actually last.

He delves into your mouth like you’re the last meal he’s ever going to have and Jesus Christ–-no one’s ever kissed you this way. You sigh openly, letting Eddie deepen the kiss further. You try to find every reason to pull away, but you’re drawing the biggest fucking blank, gasping softly when Eddie’s hands dip behind your lower back, grasping onto your ass and bring you closer. And there’s no way to ignore the feeling of Eddie’s groin pressed against you, dick straining against the material of his jeans. His openly sighs into your mouth, switching from sweet, closed mouth kisses to dirty, deep open mouthed kisses that leave you both begging for more. His hand slips between you both, palm coming to rest against your clothed mound. He stops for a moment, like he wants to ask permission.

“Eddie,” You say softly, almost startled by how spent you sound, “I don’t know if we should–”

You wanted to keep going–god did you want to, but there was a lot of shit you needed to figure out first. And luckily, this didn’t feel like a one off experience, the way Eddie looked up at you with his wide eyed gaze, lips still obscenely wet and puffy.

“I’ve never–you know,” You struggle to find the words, “I’m a virgin. You should probably know that.”

You had enough common sense to know that Eddie wasn’t, judging by the pack of condoms he never bothered to put in his nightstand drawer, it seemed likely enough that he’s probably fucked a girl or two before, not that you cared. You just weren’t sure if this was the right time to be delving into uncharted territory.

“Fuck, I-” He replies, slightly breathless, “We totally don’t have to. I didn’t really expect–I just wanted to kiss you at first but Jesus–you’re fucking amazing.”

You laugh openly, falling back against the mattress. The look on Eddie’s face was priceless, something you wanted to take a picture of and remember forever. But, the way his fingers accidentally drag against you from where they were now resting against your inner thigh are enough to shake you back into reality.

“Sorry.” He says sheepishly, dragging his fingers back.

You stop him on a whim. The whim being the fact that you’re just incredibly to horny to leave with the state you were in. Fucked out, without even being fucked properly.

“We can…if you want.” You suggest tentatively. “Just for a little.”

Teenage hormones were a hell of hard thing to overcome and you were desperately losing that battle.

“If you don’t want to it’s fine–I get that you’ve never–” Eddie starts, but you emphasize by dragging his finger up your thigh and right about the waistband of your shorts–similar to the one from the day before, short and just as scandalous.

“It’s not like I’ve never touched myself before, Eddie.” You assure him, feeling the way his fingers played with the fabric teasingly. “I’m a virgin, not a puritan.”

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He sighs, forehead resting against your shoulder. You jump at the first touch of his fingers against your bare cunt, and part of you wants to feel embarrassed about the wetness that had collected there, but you were way too horny to give a shit. “And so wet.” It comes out as a moan. A fucking moan.

It should be criminal how attractive Eddie sounds right now, fingers exploring a part of you that only you’ve ever known. He drags a single digit from bottom to top, collecting the wetness. The tightness of your shorts left little room for him to move his hand around and the contact was almost earth-shattering. He hesitates, taking a moment to circle around your clit. You sigh quietly, which he takes as a good sign, testing the motion out again, and again, until you’re practically keening from the pressure building there. The way his finger slips into you is jarring, how easily he moves past your folds, starting a slow, steady motion of guiding his fingers in and out of you, occasionally stopping to drag his fingers against the most sensitive part of your body, the only place you wanted him to be.

“Oh,” You moan softly, “fuck, please.”

Eddie could come at the sound of you, the way your voice squeaks in desperation. He chuckles softly, using his thumb to circle your clit, teasing and slow. You could get yourself there just fine, but the foreign feeling of a hand that wasn’t yours, knowing your body almost as well as you did, it was enough to have you squeezing down on his fingers in pleasure.

“More?” He asks softly, looking from his face had been resting against the middle of your chest, watching as his fingers disappeared into your shorts.

“Please.” You beg, almost desperate. His second finger joins the first, adding a nice stretch that you’ve never really felt like this. His fingers were so much bigger than your own, so much more filling. You gasp loudly at the sudden change in pace, closing your eyes in a bid to hide your own embarrassment at the sound of your own voice. When you finally pry your eyes open, Eddie is staring at you. You weren’t sure how long he had been, but his gaze is dark, hot–you want to disappear.

“I want to hear you.” He assures you, emphasizing his words by working his finger against your clit quickly, causing you to mewl in response, back arching off the bed. “You sound so pretty, princess.”

And if there was any other way to die, this is exactly how you wanted to go out.

The pressure builds and builds, Eddie finding every way to pull sounds out of you, some you didn’t even know you were capable of. You can feel the way he’s absently, but still gently, grinding against your leg, where he’d maneuvered himself after a while, in hopes of relieving some of the pressure off of his own issue. You could tell he was holding back, which made you feel slightly guilty.

The thought is immediately interrupted by your orgasm washing over you out of the blue, fast, nearly knocking you out from the feeling that spreads throughout your entire body. Eddie works you through the end, even when your body is oversensitive and tingling.

“Jesus Christ.” You sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

“Nah, just me.” He says cheekily, grinning.

You reach for the clasp on his belt on instinct, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “It’s fine.” He laughs softly, “Besides, the second you touch my dick, I’m done for.”

It’s absurd, but it makes you giggle to yourself.

“I’ll take care of it later.” He admits, adjusting the front of his jeans to provide relief. The thought of him in bed, dick in hand, had you squeezing your thighs together shamelessly.

“O-Okay.” You reply, pushing yourself up as he moved off of you. “Well, thanks—I guess?”

You both fall into a fit of laughter immediately, not finding any reason to ignore how ridiculous you felt. Not to mention that way your heart twisted at the way Eddie’s grin reached from ear to ear. It wasn’t a new thing exactly, Eddie smiled a lot, but you knew this one was reserved for both of you, and that had your stomach doing back flips.

“My pleasure.” He replies, putting on a fancy, pretentious accent. “Princess.”

“Why princess?” You ask curiously, wondering where the name fits in for you.

“I don’t know,” Eddie shrugs, sitting back on his heels, “You've always been little miss ‘pretty and perfect’ to me—smart, and you don’t really put up with anyone’s shit—I almost didn’t believe it when you asked me to sell weed to you that first time.”

“Thought I was gonna rat you out, huh?” You ask teasingly.

“Maybe just a little.” He admits, holding his thumb and pointer finger an inch from each other. You toss a pillow at his head, he takes the hit like a champ, throwing it softly back at you.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

You two spend the next couple weeks studying off and on, not really bothering to avoid hanging out at school. Dustin actually enjoyed it; since he practically worshiped Eddie and you were another friend he had to talk to, not that Mike Wheeler wasn’t sufficient enough, his mind was just flooded with girls and Dustin was so far from the precipice of females.

Even if you spent half of your study sessions making out, you still managed to get enough work done that Eddie was making a little improvement—not to mention the look on Ms. McNally’s face when she called him out in class and he answered her question correct—you would’ve thought hell had finally froze over. Study sessions went from a weekend basis, to Eddie showing up to your shift at Family Video to ask about a question on the homework on any given day, not trying to hide the fact that he wanted another reason to talk to you outside of school.

“If you manage to help him graduate, it will be a miracle.” Steve says one day, leaning in as Eddie left the store.

You show up at his door that night, ready for another one of your tedious study sessions. But he’s answering the door before you have a chance to think.

“My uncle’s home.” He tells, looking back over his shoulder. You’d gotten lucky with the past couple of weeks, timing your visits almost perfectly, so that they aligned with his uncle’s work schedule. But, you weren’t sure what to do now.

“Well, we can just study—it’s fine.” You tell him quietly, “or I can come over tomorrow?”

“No.” He all but blurts out, “Sorry—we, we can just take my van. I know a spot where we can go.”

You’re hesitant at first, but you agree—it’s Eddie, you knew it would be fine.

His van is incredibly spacey, to your surprise. It made a lot of sense, though. You could tell he’d had more than a few smoke sessions based on how it practically reeked of weed and his cologne. When you’re stopped at the spot—a wide expanse of trees covering a large area and a giant skull shaped rock in the middle, he swings the back doors open, giving you a better view of his setup.

“Skull rock, Eddie? Seriously?” You deadpan, climbing out of the passenger seat and to the back of his van.

“What?” He asks innocently, hands flying out to his side in question. “It’s a great spot.”

You could point out every surface that Steve had made out with a girl on that rock, from memory—despite wanting to know, Steve just hated keeping his sexcapades to himself sometimes. Either way, you couldn’t complain. It was quiet, secluded, you didn’t have to worry about anyone finding Eddie toking up in the back if he so decided, even if you didn’t plan to partake. And part of you knew, not much study was going to take place anyways.

“Can I draw you?” You ask randomly, Eddie peering at you from where he’s perched on the edge of his van. “Sorry, that was really forward—I just—“

“Sure.” He agrees, moving deeper inside the van, the night sky nearly swallowing the van whole. If it weren’t for the overhead lights, you wouldn’t be able to see more than a couple inches in front of your face, luckily they lit the interior up well enough.

“How do you want me, Picasso?” He asks, flaring his jacket out.

“Just sit—and, what are you doing?” You laugh, watching as he knelt down, chin on his fist, a goofy attempt at a heroic pose.

“Too much?” He asks, but he doesn’t need the answer. He can tell by the amused look on your face, so he shifts onto his backside, legs spread out slightly, one lifted up so his foot was planted in the floor.

“Act like we’re in your room, talking—just be comfortable.” You remind him, letting the pencil feel out the paper.

And you don’t think you’ve ever heard Eddie stay so quiet, for so long. But he’s watching you, just as much you had been watching him, fiddling with his rings occasionally.

“Something on your mind?” You ask curiously, about halfway through the sketch, “I can see the gears turning in your head.”

“Just thinking.” He says quietly, eyes still locked on yours. “I don’t want to distract you, though.”

Though, that was really the plan all along—so you took the bait.

“No, tell me.” You demand, setting the pencil and book down.

He chuckles to himself, “I’m just thinking about how I wanna kiss you right now.”

You smile knowingly, a little shy now by how intently he’s looking at you. “Then why don’t you?”

And like a dam breaking, he’s on you instantly, hands gripping under your thighs to lay you down on the blanket that was covering the expanse of the back of his van.

“Wait, the doors.” You tell him through quick kisses. “Close the doors.”

And you’re right. The last thing you need is someone walking up on two high school students getting hot and heavy in the back of a van. The doors slam shut and he’s finding his way back to you, eyeing your mouth greedily. Eddie had gotten more and more comfortable with maneuvering you around how he wanted, knowing just how to have you begging for more and more.

His mouth leaves yours, kissing the underside of your chin, your neck, the small part of your chest that was exposed to him. He wanted to worship you in every way and form possible. He’s got his dick pressed against your core, still jailed by the confines of his jeans, the coldness of the chain he had attached to his pants, the one bearing factor that was keeping you grounded. Otherwise, you probably would have left the planet already.

“Wanna taste you so bad.” He groans against your neck, free hand coming up to rest against your cheek, stroking the delicate skin. “Please?”

“Yeah,” You rush out, licking your suddenly too dry lips, “only if you let me taste you too.” You slip your hands in the waistband of your sweatpants, pushing them and your underwear down in one go. You definitely want to feel ashamed, but you can’t help yourself. He freaking out at the thought of your mouth around him, you could say the same for yourself.

You expect him to delve right in, devour you immediately, but he stills himself. He mumbled something into the inside of your thigh, you try not to think about it too much, opening your legs a little wider. He’s nipping and biting at the most sensitive parts of your skin, watching you squirm in anticipation.

And when the flat of his tongue finally makes contact with your core, you moan unabashedly, reveling in the feeling. His nose nudges at your clit, and the sounds—god, the sounds. You blushed a particular shade of red, ashamed at how well your body was responding to his touch.

“So pretty and perfect.” He says against your cunt, “Just like I suspected.”

You laugh at the absurdity of it all, moaning when he sneaks a finger up to join with the work his mouth couldn’t cover. He was working you up, he wanted you to come, but the fact that he already had you 1-0 was a crime and that just wouldn’t suffice.

He grabbed your hands, which had been laying useless at your side, and guided them to the beautiful mane of hair attached to him. You wrapped your fingers around the hair at tugged, ever so softly. The look on his face as he pulled back was something you’d never soon forget, mouth covered in your clear slick, his tongue reaching out to lick his bottom lip.

“Wanna suck your dick, Eddie.” You begged. “Please.”

The look of pleading you gave him had him melting in your hands. He wordlessly lifted himself to his knees, wasting no time to undo the buckle of his belt. You helped him along the way, unzipping and pulling at the waistband of his jeans. When you finally found the chance to switch positions, he was already pulling the top of his underwear underneath his ass, but you couldn’t be bothered to wait any longer. You moved on instinct, grabbing his dick in your hand and tugging on the shaft gently, testing his body out.

Even though you didn’t have much to compare it to, Eddie Munson still had the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen.

“Shit, say that again.” He groans, watching you lean forward to kiss at the tip. You hadn’t realized you even said that aloud until he was staring down at you, completely wrecked by the idea of you finding his dick pretty.

“It’s so pretty and perfect.” You tease, licking the underside of his dick in one, long stripe.

He curses audibly, head banging against the metal of the van.

You take him carefully, slowly. Maybe you’re doing everything wrong, but the moan that escapes him proves otherwise. His hand curls around the back of your head gently, guiding and setting a pace. He’s showing you what he likes, so you give it to him. You’re careful not to scrape against his shaft with your teeth, using your tongue to trace slow circles around the tip before swallowing him down in one go, it was a lot more than you could initially handle, it makes your eyes water and you pull back for a moment to catch your breath.

“Sorry, too much.” You apologize halfheartedly and Eddie gives you an incredulous look, both mesmerized and completely caught off guard.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He breaths out, eyes searching yours for a moment. “I don’t want to sound forward but I really wanna fuck you.”

If it was anyone else, they’d probably be dead. But, the way Eddie sounds almost desperate is the entire reason you’re nodding your head in earnest.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.” You agree, despite how terrified the thought made you feel.

“We can stop if it’s too much for you.” Eddie tells you, sincerity ringing through. “I’m serious.”

You nod, “I’m good, I swear.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Eddie has you wedged in between the makeshift pillow he made and himself, laid out comfortably on your side, naked from head to toe, and you try not to linger on the way he’s staring at your breasts, or the hand that’s running between your legs, dipping into your folds again. You adjust yourself slightly, legs widening at the touch. He’s gentle and you want to cry at the thought that someone would want to take so much care with you. He fingers you open slowly, swallowing your moans throat deep, lingering kisses that you never want to end. You can hear the wrapper crinkle between you, watching as pulls away to rip it open with his teeth.

Mesmerized as he rolls the condom down his shaft, you clench at the idea of him being inside. You didn’t want to think anymore, letting your body run on autopilot.

“We can go slow. Just tell me what feels good.” He reminds you, hiking your leg up against his hip, positioning himself at your entrance. You nod silently, bracing yourself. Your hand wraps around his wrist where he’s caressing your head, letting the slow, stretching feeling of him pushing inside take over your body. It stings, but barely—you nod again, looking up to let him know that this was okay, that you were okay.

He gradually picks the pace up, once he’s finally seated inside you and you’re accustomed to the feeling of him. It wasn’t until then that you realized just how noisy Eddie could be—moaning every obscenity under the sun into mouth as you swallowed up everyone with a kiss, gasping for air when he grazed your clit with his thumb from where it had been resting against your hip bone.

You can feel the way he’s holding back, not sure how much you could take. He’s gripping you tight, and you attempt to break him from whatever daze he’s locked himself into.

“Eddie, it’s fine.” You say breathlessly, “I can take it.”

And like that, he releases you, maneuvering you onto your back to adjust himself over you, pulling himself out to adjust before he’s careful thrusting back in, hand tucked under the soft skin at the back of your knee, bearing the weight you couldn’t bother to hold up.

He leans forward and mouths at your breasts, taking the time to graze his teeth against the tip of the the soft bud of your nipple, causing a gasp to bubble out of your chest. “Do that again.” You beg.

He laughs quietly, showing the other breast the same care, then switching back to the other. Fuck, it was so good. You’d almost been too distracted to realize the pace he’d picked up, more consistent as the sound your bodies coming together filled up the silence. That and the moans you couldn’t bother to keep quiet, mixing in with his own.

“Feel so good, princess.” He groans, mouth tucked away into your neck, mouthing at the skin there. “Squeezing my dick just right.”

Eddie has a filthy mouth, obviously. You were definitely bookmarking that for later.

“Wanna come, Eddie. Please.” You gasp, trying desperately to push back to meet the more desperate pace Eddie had set.

“Here,” He’s grabbing your hand, guiding it between the both of you, “wanna see you touch yourself, see if you can make yourself come as good as I can.”

Part of you doesn’t know how to respond, so you don’t, but you mindlessly obey the request at hand, circling your clit with your own two fingers, gasping at how sensitive you were. Fingers were one thing, but Eddie’s dick—that was something else entirely. You’re trying desperately to keep up, but Eddie can tell you’re overwhelmed, overworked, so he slips his hand against yours, helping you through the motion.

“You’re almost there, I can tell.” He murmurs against your ear, the hotness of his breath sending tingles down your entire body. “I got you.”

He moved your fingers with his, hips shaking sloppily, thrusting himself through his own climax, watching as your mouth dropped open in a wordless shout, orgasm hitting you in a flash of white, leaving you panting for breath when you came back to earth.

Eddie gives you a few minutes to settle, brushing your wild hair behind your ears and out of your face—he pulls out slowly, removing and tying the condom, discarding it in the front of the van inside of the tiny trash can nestled underneath the passenger side dash. He seems worried.

“It was good.” You assure him, hoping he wasn’t stressing over the idea of ruining anything for you. “I don’t really have anything to compare it to but if it’s anything like that, it was pretty damn good.”

He chuckles gently, his chest shaking at the motion. You finally have a clear view of some of the tattoos you never really noticed until now. Eddie had slipped his underwear back on in the process, helping you search through the flurry of mixed clothes to find your own.

“I guess I just wasn’t sure how we’d handle things after.” He says quietly, taking a seat next to. You see him reach for the pre-rolled blunt sitting in the ashtray and you grab his wrist, pulling it toward you.

“Well, do you want me to leave?” It wasn’t meant to sound harsh, Eddie didn’t seem to take it that way either.

“No.” He replies sheepishly, hands resting in his lap.

“Then stop worrying. Stop acting like you just scandalized me.” You laugh, poking his stomach. “I think we’re way past that.”

“God, because the sounds you make should be illegal and I don’t like being a one and done type of guy—“ Eddie would have gone on a tangent had you let him, but the gentle reminder you offered was enough to shut him up.

“Well, next time—“

“Next time?” He quirks up, eyebrows raised.

“Next time,” You repeat, feeling a little silly, “we’ll find out just how long the both of us can get. But, first—you gotta pass English.”

The exasperated sigh that Eddie let out was enough to have you curling forward in laughter.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” He smiles, reaching forward to kiss you, chaste and sweet.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x afab reader #i sat on this for too long and i'm starting to hate it GOODBYE #my writing #1kfic

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doobea · 9 months

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BLLK - Relationship HCs + Songs That Describes It PT. 2

contents: gn!reader, super fluffy, sfw, established relationships, kinda proofread characters mentioned: sae, shidou, barou, oliver, yukimiya, karasu a/n: hehe part 2 c: (this ended up being WAY longer than the first one) also wanted to try my chance at writing for both yukimiya and karasu bc i feel like they're underrated

sae - ride by hybs

not the biggest fan of PDA but will steal moments to hold your hand for just a second, giving it a little squeeze. for more physical reassurance, he loves taking his thumb and rubbing it across your palms and thighs.

he's hyper-aware of your surroundings whether you know it or not. if you're bending down to reach for something, one of his hands usually hovers over your head to make sure you don't hurt yourself on the way up. if he catches you shivering or sneezing for just a second then the next minute you're presented with a cup of tea and his demand for cuddles. you get the gist!

following up on the last point - whenever you get up from any surface, he always checks and dusts off anything that might cling to your bottoms or back.

sae is always out traveling and attending games, so phone calls are endless with him. even if the conversation has ended, there's something comforting about being on the line with him versus being in complete silence.

shidou - see you again by tyler, the creator

he is incredibly great with animals and that’s why you guys foster dogs together! it's no surprise for your neighbors to see the two of you walking an army of chihuahuas and german shepherds around the block every morning. it's also no surprise to everyone when he ends up adopting four of them; he claims no one can take care of them better than he can.

when it comes to washing dishes with shidou, he likes to make shapes out of the bubbles and blow them your way. this always ends up in a bubble-blowing battle that leaves the dishes to be washed the day after.

not really an extreme prankster, but what harm would an innocent sticky note on your back do? he likes to write jokes on them before sending you off to get errands.

gets abnormally invested in the drama in your social life. you tell him that one of your friends had just gone through a breakup? he's getting a bag of popcorn and already listing off questions pertaining to who's at fault.

barou - come inside of my heart by iv of spades

if you ever need to move he'll be there to help in a heartbeat. not only does he have the muscles to help you secure all the furniture, but he has the brains to let you know how to stack the items and what equipment you need to keep them pristine and in one piece.

even if he claims it’s a bother, it’s not! he’s the type to fix your messy cable management and will replace anything that looks like it needs “fixing” in your house. examples include buying you new sponges for the kitchen, restocking your fridge if you’re running low on essentials, and folding your laundry if you’re the type to leave it in the dryer after it’s done.

he hates having his photo taken but knows that you absolutely adore showing him off to your friends. when you first got yourself a camera, all the film was practically barou, barou and you, and shirtless barou. it took a while for him to warm up to the idea but when you came home with developed photos in hand, he can't help but litter the fridge with his favorite moments with you.

definitely listens to cheesy boy bands when he's tidying up the place. he gets easily embarrassed about it so he usually waits to clean up the area when you're out before turning the music up to max volume. there was a rare moment when you returned early and a flustered barou claimed that he didn't know how 'boyfriend' by big time rush came up in his playlist.

oliver - somebody by keshi

surprisingly one of the best people to go to IKEA with - and no it's not because of the fact that he's part Swedish. he'll be the type to get into character whenever you guys go into a showroom, acting as if it's an apartment that you guys share. he’s cute but be careful, he’s the type to sneak items into the cart when you’re not looking!

gets excited whenever pull him into the living room knowing that you'll be announcing a fashion show from your recent mall run. he'll play along and hype you up, taking photos and telling you to give him 360 spins.

a chronic blanket hogger! he complains about needing a bigger bed because his feet keep dangling off the edges and that he needs the blanket the most. if you offer to sleep on the couch so that he can get more space, oliver will just pout and join you wherever you end up sleeping.

when you guys were touring for apartments, it was your job to keep the leasing agent occupied with questions while he was in the other rooms subtly scratching the walls with his nails to see if the paint would hold up.

yukimiya - home by luke chiang

never forgets to bring the mail in. a majority of the time, yukimiya will throw away the useless magazines and ads, but on slow days he likes to sit down and sort through coupons and tries his attempt with the weekly crossword puzzles with you.

there's always a different scented candle in every room you guys share. when they're running low, the two of you typically go to the store and spend at least an hour trying out all the different smells that they have to offer. a new seasonal and two of the regular scents are the final items he settles for.

he'll drive to your workplace to bring you lunch if you've forgotten it for the day. most of the meals he ends up buying for you are typically way healthier and out of your budget than what you would usually make for yourself.

keeps your side of the bed warm for you after you come back from a long day! yukimiya believes it's bad luck to get in a cold bed so he's doing his job as a good boyfriend.

karasu - summer by brockhampton

expect a lot of late-night food runs with karasu and they're all unplanned. you guys could literally be driving back from a date night in the city and he’ll just be like “I want McDonald’s” and just pull in a drive-through. sometimes he’ll do it if he wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep.

is a very good listener but not a good comforter (he's trying to do better in the long run). due to his usual snarky personality, he's worried that he might say the wrong things and usually says little to nothing. when you're crying, the best he offers is back rubs and a long cuddle session afterward.

working out together with karasu is like having your dad help you with math homework. he's critical of how your form should look, always saying that you might hurt yourself in the long run if you're not placing your feet or shoulders at the correct angle.

it's canon that he's afraid of the ocean and can't swim that's why whenever you guys are at a pool, he requires you to hold onto his hand - claiming that he doesn't want you to float away.

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wito-chan-bla-bla · 10 days

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Wrong number

Gojo likes to write Nanami and chat about (Y/N). The problem is… that all this time he was writing… to you.

"Hey, Nanami, you know what? My future wife gave me a very sweet smile today! I always thought that my Six Eyes didn't have even the slightest flaw, but in fact, there is still one! Why can't I use them to take photos? I would like to remember her smile forever!"

"Nanami-i-in, you have thirty seconds to say what (Y/N)-chan likes out of food! If you don't tell me, I'll come to your house and yell under your windows until you tell me!"

«NA. NA. MIN! Can you go to (Y/N)-chan and find out what her ring finger size is? I want to order a ring for our engagement in advance, but I do not know what size my princess ' fingers are."

Again. Again. Again and again. Gojo sent these messages... to you.

It all started about six months ago. You were lying quietly in bed and enjoying a well-earned sleep, when suddenly you jumped up and almost hit the ceiling. Your phone rang abruptly and woke not only you, but definitely your neighbors as well!

You mentally cursed the fact that you forgot to turn down the volume or turn off the sound completely. The phone was in your hands, and you were instantly almost blinded by the bright light. Cursing everything that was happening, you canceled the call and lay back on the cool sheets…

Only to hear three loud sounds in a row in a second, notifying you of the incoming message!

You sat up and growled softly to yourself. Belatedly, it occurred to you that you might be urgently needed as a sorcerer. So that you, overcoming the burning light in your eyes, could finally see the message that came. And there…

"What do you think, what kind of filling do I need to take anpans with?"

You sat for a few seconds, remembering what "anpan" is. Your sleeping brain found somewhere in your head the information that this is dessert, threw it at you and continued to sleep. You looked at the message again…

"Gojo-san, how did you get my number?"

Who else could it be? It was two o'clock in the morning, and an unknown person suddenly writes to you and asks with what filling to take a sweet! This was one hundred percent Gojo.

You turned down the brightness of the screen and turned down the sound, lay back on the bed and decided to finish this conversation quickly so that Satoru would no longer distract you from sleep.

"Ha! Because I am the great Satoru Gojo! You thought you changed your phone number and got away from me? Ha! A genius like me will find someone like you without any problems!"

You frowned. You haven't changed your phone number. But you decided not to think about it, you wanted to sleep.

"I don't want to deal with all this. Take all the filling options for anpans, you're still rich. I'm going to sleep."

And then you turned off the sound on your phone, put it away from you, and went back to sleep.

The next day, you decided to find Satoru and ask him how he got your phone number. You had a weekend off, so you didn't dress in your usual dark uniform, but in something more elegant. As you walked through the school grounds, you listened to the sounds around you. Yes, it would be more logical to find the tall man with white hair using your eyes, but you knew that it is much easier to go to where the loudest and "violent" sounds come from.

Suddenly, your phone tells you that you have received a new message. You have opened the appropriate tab…

You froze, looking around. Yes, there could be no mistake. Gojo photographed you from the roof of one of the nearby buildings.

You wanted to write to him and ask him not to joke, to come here and talk to you, but you froze, looking at the new message from Satoru.

"Hey, Nanami-i-in, do you see this? (Y/N)-chan is so cute today! Oh, I know! If I'm the "strongest", then she's the "cutest"! I think my cheeks will ache for a few more weeks from this memory!"

You continued to stare at the screen in shock. «(Y/N)-chan»? He never called you that! He always referred to you as "(Y/N)", sometimes as "(Y/S)".

But that's not even the strangest part! Why does he suddenly say you're... cute?

You were so confused by this sudden information that you couldn't speak to Gojo when he appeared next to you. You just mumbled something in embarrassment and ran to the bathroom, trying to cool off by splashing cold water on your face.

While you were washing up, I received another message.

"He-he-he-he, I really am not only the strongest, but also the most beautiful. I have a new record, Nanamin! I was able to embarrass a girl in seven seconds! And given that it was (Y/N)-chan… This is my absolute victory!"

After that, you couldn't even talk to Gojo.

You were in a hurry to go home, but so successfully encountered Nanami! You asked him to talk to you alone. Kento nodded and calmly followed you into one of the empty classrooms. All this time you have felt the heavy gaze of the heavenly eyes.

When you were in class, your phone made that familiar sound again.

"Why did (Y/N)-chan call you to this small room, m? Are you trying to take my little girl away from me? Quickly get out of there so I can see you! I don't trust your sharp cheekbones!"

–Is something wrong, (Y/N)?

You looked at Nanami and suddenly realized why he was so tired. When you were in school with him, you were even more or less tolerant of Gojo's antics, finding them funny... but Nanami…

–Did you change your phone number, Kento-kun?

The sorcerer gasped softly and nodded quickly.

–Yes, I'm sorry I didn't warn you sooner. I was on a mission, so I couldn't warn you. You couldn't reach me?

–Um... that's not really the point... I have a ... problem here.

You showed him your phone screen. Kento quickly ran his eyes over the messages and then groaned loudly.

–I knew he wouldn't stop there…

–W-what are you talking about?

–I actually changed my phone number so that Gojo wouldn't write or call me anymore, – Kento said with a serious face. – And even though I knew he would try to find me, I didn't think he would try to do it so quickly.

–Um... what he writes to me… is this a hoax or something, y-yes?

Nanami looked at you. You've looked at Nanami.

–I could try to smooth things over, but our senpai deserves to be punished for distracting me from my legitimate vacation so often and forcing me to answer his stupid questions. Gojo has been in love with you since our first year of school. He keeps writing me stuff like that about you. This is one of the reasons why I decided to change my phone number and not tell him a new one.

You stood there in shock. You... you couldn't believe that Gojo has been in love with you for so long! You can't believe it, because even now, when you received such information and re-analyzed all his actions, you couldn't believe that he was in love with you!

Yes, he brought you food. But at the same time, he was carrying packages for his students! Yes, he invited you to dinner. But with him and you always went your colleagues, friends or his students! Yes, he brought you souvenirs. But to whom did he not bring souvenirs after his travels?!

You've thought about it over and over and over again. And with every encounter with Gojo replayed in your head, you didn't understand howSatoru could be in love with you.

Meanwhile, Nanami noticed your reaction and tapped you on the shoulder.

–I understand you, (Y/N). I would also be traumatized if I found out that someone like Gojo had fallen in love with me.

–T-that's not the point! G-Gojo-san hasn't shown any signs of attention to me all this time! He... h-he just existed next to me and sometimes acted like Gojo-san usually does!

–However, this does not make my correspondence with him any less adequate, – Kento sighed and patted you on the head, trying to calm you down. – Gojo may not have shown it, but he's incredibly in love with you. I even think he's mentally unstable... and it's not just his romantic feelings for you. (Y/N), – he looked you in the eye, – you can do whatever you want with this information. You can even make him feel a huge amount of shame and shame, which is usually felt by people around him. I personally don't care.

You just nodded in embarrassment.

When you were exchanging phone numbers with him, you suddenly asked:

–Kento-kun, why didn't you just block Gojo-san if he annoyed you so much?

–Because, – Nanami clenched his jaw tightly, – he broke into my apartment, stole my phone, guessed the password, and unlocked himself! I logically decided that it was better to continue reading his whining than to clean the apartment again after a person who does not take off his shoes indoors!

–What makes you think... that he can't just break into your apartment and get your phone number?..

Nanami grinned broadly at you.

–Because I moved out.

You left the room with Kento, happy for him and his new apartment. Suddenly, you got a text message again.

"Why is she so happy around you?! What did you tell her?!. I'm serious. What did you tell her to make her so happy?.. Oh, I know! If you tell me, I'll buy you bread!.."

You put your phone in your pocket without a word.

You wanted, you really wanted to write Gojo that you are not "Nanamin", that you are not "(Y/N)-chan", that you are not his "princess", "sunny", "rabbit", "goddess", "the most beautiful woman on Earth" and so on. But…

Sometimes it was so nice to feel like the most loved person in the whole world.

You didn't have a romantic relationship. You weren't sure what it was about, but the fact remained. No one gave you loud compliments, no one praised you and your body in a way that didn't make you feel uncomfortable and nauseous, no one gave you gifts or told you that they would put the world at your feet.

And Satoru Gojo... he said all that.

Every time you felt sad, you opened a conversation with him and read his endless "simp's messages". When you didn't have enough of that, you wrote and asked Gojo what exactly he "likes about (Y/N)". And each time Satoru wrote "oh, you finally asked, Nanamin, I thought you didn't want to be in this topic" and the next message flooded you with a portion of compliments.

When you thought about someone great like Satoru Gojo having such feelings for you... you couldn't help but feel better, and you had hope for the best.

But there was still a problem. Gojo... he never once did what Nanami asked him to do. It was like... bullying.

"Nanami-i-in, what kind of cologne do you wear? (Y/N)-chan said you smell good. Maybe if it suits me, (Y/N)-chan will also stick hours in my ribcage?"

You answered it by asking Kento first. But Satoru didn't change in any way after that. He smelled the same as before. (Yes, you specifically checked this out).

"What was the name of that restaurant that you and Shoko were discussing? I hear it has a great kitchen. I want to book a table to ask out (Y/N)-chan!"

No one asked you out on a date. Gojo didn't even hint at it.

"What kind of food (Y/N)-chan likes to take with him? She's going on a mission with me, so I want to cook lunch for her!"

No one shared the food with you that day. Moreover, Satoru left when you asked him to eat together, saying that he had urgent business to attend to.

"What gems do you think will suit her? She got a beautiful manicure, and I want to give her a ring and a bracelet that will match the color of her nails!"

You didn't get any expensive (or cheap) jewelry either before the nail polish was still in place or after it was worn off.

Gojo seemed to know… that it's you. You started to doubt that you were able to parody Nanami's perfect grammar, but then you remembered that Kento himself said that he constantly received messages from Satoru of a similar nature. And your friend will not lie to you, especially in something so serious.

In the end, half a year passed. You woke up and fell asleep with questions... and messages from Gojo. You didn't know what to do at all, especially now that you've come this far.

But there was exactly one huge plus in all of this. Nanami always wrote without errors and abbreviations, he even placed commas in the right places! So you were filled with the wisdom of your language and even learned a few dozen new words, because sometimes Kento dictated to you exactly how to answer Gojo.

The fourteenth of February came unexpectedly... or almost. And you planned to end your suffering soon. Because if you once again receive incredible praise in the text and see the usual behavior in life… you'll go crazy.

"Gojo-san, are you awake?"

"What do I see?! Did Nanamin finally text me first?! I don't believe it! I'll go and ask that ugly curse to pinch me! Wait a second...!"

"I can't wait. It's about (Y/N), if it makes you think faster."

You stared at the screen for a few seconds, and then…

–Hello?

–(Y/N), why Gojo is breaking into the classroom where I wanted to take a nap and yelling that he's going to kill me?

–Um... I texted him on your behalf that I wanted to talk to him... C-can you ask me what kind of chocolate he'd like for February fourteenth? Better yet, l-let him write!..

Kento ended the call abruptly. You decided to write to Gojo as soon as possible that "(Y/N) is interested in what kind of gift for the fourteenth of February you would like". Suddenly, Nanami called you again and thanked you for saving him, because he had already started climbing out of the window so that Satoru wouldn't kill him.

Gojo has started typing you a message… He wrote it for a minute, two, five… You decided to leave your phone alone and go for a cup of tea.

When you returned from watching an episode of your favorite TV show, you looked at your phone…

Did he w-write me a whole book?!

You scrolled and scrolled and scrolled down the screen... until you finally reached the end.

"So much information is normal? I can think some more if (Y/N)-chan can't choose from what I've suggested!"

You decided to quickly convince him that everything is in order and so.

You started viewing his message… You have a feeling that you didn't read so much in high school.

In the end, you came to a simple conclusion that you didn't have to spend at least ten minutes reading this entire text: Gojo will be happy with everything you give him, but he will be most happy with homemade chocolate.

You planned to hand him a chocolate bar with a note like "it was me all along, (Y/N), not Kento-kun." But it turned out that you don't know how to make sweets. In the end, you decided to ask Nanami for help, taking up his entire evening.

Everything was fine. The wizard really knew how to cook, you quickly finished all the "dirty part", now the chocolate was cooling in the refrigerator and waiting in the wings. Slicing vegetables for Nanami to make a stew doesn't feel quite right. You were proud of the work you did. And yet you were afraid of what was coming.

–If you're tired, I can make dinner myself. You saved me from Gojo's nagging, so this is the least I can do for you.

–No, no, it's okay, Kento-kun… I was just thinking about it… Why is it that Gojo-san practically confesses her love to me in every message, but when we get close?… Why is he acting like he doesn't feel anything at all?

–This may sound corny... but he probably doesn't want you to get hurt, – Nanami reached out and patted your head, bringing back memories of the day you were in the classroom with him. – He is the strongest sorcerer, and he has many enemies. If he has a "favorite", then they will be in danger. This is especially true for the person he loves.

–But why then does he not try to suppress these feelings, but only remind himself of them by 'communicating with you'?

–Because Gojo is an annoying jerk who doesn't know how to control himself, – Kento started cutting carrots. – If you love him, I hope you both start dating as soon as possible. Then all his energy will go to you, and we, all the rest of his environment, will breathe calmly.

–Hey! Are you just making me a victim, Kento-kun?!

–Yes, you're right... – he chuckled softly. – Even you can't completely neutralize someone like Gojo.

You silently poked him in the shoulder.

Shortly before the fourteenth of February, you took out chocolate in the form of hearts, which was cooling all this time, and with the help of white chocolate you wrote an inscription on the sweets (each candy had one letter). "It wasn't Kento-kun's cell number".

And now everything was ready. You bought chocolate for your male friends and prepared to give joy to your colleagues.

You ran from building to building, finding your friends and giving them gifts. (You were planning to get a lot of gifts for White Day, so you had to take care of every man in your environment, hee-hee!) You decided to approach Gojo at the end.

The tall, solitary figure was easy to find. You clutched the colorful box in your hands and prepared for this important step in your life.

–Gojo-san... I have a gift for you.

Satoru instantly turned around and pulled the black blindfold from his eyes. He smiled slyly at you and began to draw out the vowels, saying something teasing. But you didn't listen to him. You wanted to understand... how you're feeling right now.

If you were disgusted with Gojo or something like that, you wouldn't be reading so much of what he wrote for Nanamin. And yet... you didn't act like an embarrassed teenager either... or basically a person in love.

But then why did you do it? Why did you even make homemade chocolate for Satoru Gojo in honor of the fourteenth of February?..

You froze, looking at the sorcerer who said something like "are you frozen, struck by my beauty?". You thought about what he said... and then you nodded.

Gojo has been close to you for several years now. People might call him annoying... but you found his behavior funny.

You liked his jokes and antics. Yes, sometimes his pranks got out of hand, you felt more shame than laughter, but... in the end, you couldn't be mad at Gojo.

Satoru was the one who always protected you on missions because you were "too weak". He was the one who threw a cold water bottle at you on hot days. He was the one who talked about himself and his "incredible coolness " over and over again when you were feeling bad, until you switched to anger at him, forgetting about your problems.

After all... Satoru wasn't as "bad" as some people thought he was. Or maybe you're already used to the fact that he's such an active, funny, and funny fool.

You didn't know why he fell in love with you. Maybe you just handed him a dessert when he was weak, and he remembered you as his hero. It doesn't matter…

Because you tripped over a rock!

You flew down in a rush, but suddenly big hands grabbed you by the waist. Gojo lifted you off the ground vertically and laughed, there were tears in his heavenly eyes.

–Y-you tripped in the air?! I want to make a GIF out of this! It was just perfect!

–Y-yeah, yeah, I know… Can you put me on the ground? I can't give you chocolate in this state.

Satoru nodded enthusiastically and placed you on the ground. It vibrated impatiently on the spot, reaching out to you and waiting for you to give it a sweet. You looked at his face carefully. His skin was as pale as usual.

You gave him the box. Gojo started chatting about how he was so incredible that they even made him homemade chocolate. Satoru put the lid aside... and you were horrified to see that all the candies had flown up and got tangled up, so the phrase was impossible to read.

While Gojo chewed happily and theatrically, enjoying your cooking and praising you, you clenched your hands into fists. You didn't know what to do. You couldn't just give up and walk away. You…

–Gojo-san, did you like the candy?

–Yes! – he looked at you with great joy. – You made them especially for me? Oh-oh-oh, (Y / N), you're such a good and hardworking girl!..

It started pulling at your cheek. You listened to his phrase. He didn't sound serious, he was teasing you.

And you couldn't stand this ambiguity any longer.

–Gojo-san, by the way... can you call my phone? I lost it somewhere in my bag, I can't find it…

–I can use my Si…

He suddenly shut up and suddenly started nodding vigorously. He took out his phone and asked you to give him your phone number. You were talking digit by digit, shrinking from the inside out and afraid that it would end right now... no, you were afraid that you didn't know how it would end.

And now the end has come. The last digit. Gojo tapped the screen with his finger…

–I think you gave me your phone number wrong. I called Nanamin for some reason…

You took your phone out of your bag with a trembling hand and looked at the screen. All of a sudden it became bright, two options appeared. "Accept incoming call" and "Cancel incoming call". You hit the green button under the shocked gaze of the sorcerer and bring the phone to your ear.

–Hello?

Gojo stood blinking in surprise for a few seconds, then canceled the call.

–S-so... everything I wrote... wasn't seen by Nanamin, but by you?

–Y-yes, – you gulped and nodded. – And I wanted to talk about it…

Before you finished your sentence, Satoru threw his phone at you and ran off in an unknown direction so fast that you didn't quite understand where he ran to in the first place. The only thing you realized... was that his face, ears, and neck were completely red.

You are left alone with your thoughts, feelings... and his phone.

After that failed declaration of love (or whatever it was?), you were on missions for several days and couldn't talk to Gojo. Just in case, you carried his phone with you, so that if something happened, you could give it back. So when you finally got back to your apartment, showered, and ate... there was a knock on your door.

Satoru was on the doorstep. It looked calm when you looked through the peephole in the door, but now that you opened it, it was getting redder and redder before your eyes.

–Um... I came to get my phone, and... my mistakes and my shame.

–Do you want to... talk about it?

–I t-think... you already know.

You looked at Gojo and were surprised. You've never seen him look so confused. Usually Satoru made all the people lose their patience and calmness… but now, he was the one who had lost his playfulness and fun.

You silently stepped aside, hinting at the sorcerer to come in. But he didn't budge from his spot in the communal hallway.

–Um... please come inside, I don't want any of the neighbors to see the mess in my apartment. I think... we need to talk.

–Ar-re you sure... you want to do this after everything I've written... to you?

–Yes. Because... your words really supported me when I was having a hard time, – you smiled faintly and hid your embarrassment by burying your nose in your shoulder. – So... please... let's talk.

Gojo Satoru, a great sorcerer, the strongest user of cursed energy in this generation, a tall and incredibly handsome man... came into your apartment blushing and hunching like a teenager. You smiled faintly and closed the door behind him so that he wouldn't run away.

Because you couldn't escape his messages. And now he... won't be able to run away from you either. Perhaps ... it's time for him to know what you think of him, too, even if you tell him all this while looking him straight in the eye... and not through messages on your phone.

[In my head, it looked better... eh…]

#x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #fem!reader #gojo #satoru x reader #satoru gojo

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. ix

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: “When you're born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it's not.” - Richard Kadrey, Aloha from Hell. But maybe it's about to be. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 5.0k chapter warnings: HEAVY ANGST. Panic attacks. Referenced death of a parent. References to abusive/neglectful parents. Complicated sibling/familial relationships. Alcohol consumption, smoking. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: I know it's annoying, but the thing about me is that I’m never able to write compelling things if I don’t include complex family/sibling relationships. Like I’m so obsessed with putting them in everything, even my stupid little love stories. But it does serve a purpose, I promise. There is an important character in this chapter….just saying.

**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

-September 15, 2003-

Joel can sense that something is off with you the minute you get home from work.

For starters, your voice sounds a bit too syrupy-sweet when you come through your garage door, and chirp out ‘Hey!’ when you spot him sitting on the couch in your front room, your cat curled up on his lap.

Just ten minutes earlier, he’d let himself in, using the spare key you’d given him and Sarah. Your house felt vacant, dark, and shockingly quiet without you there, and so he’d turned on the lights, put on a record, and washed the plate, two mugs, and a bowl that were sitting in your sink.

Joel stirs, and Martini immediately jumps off his lap as though he’d personally offended him in some way. “Hey, darlin,” he stands, accepting your affectionate kiss on the cheek. “How was your day?”

When you pretend you don’t hear him, that’s the second thing that tips him off. You turn to hang your messenger bag over the hook in your front closet. And then you flex your fingers like you’re trying to stretch them out, cracking your knuckles one at a time with your thumbs, and rolling your shoulders back before heading into the kitchen and gesturing for him to follow.

“Do you…uh….do you want something?” you turn your head slightly, but not enough to meet his eyes. “Let me get you something.”

He follows after you tentatively, remaining silent until he figures out what's going on. Martini, who was walking underfoot, scatters out of the way as your heels click over the tile and retreats to a safe distance alongside Joel, who pauses to lean against the threshold.

Even despite the clear tension in the room, he can’t help but check you out. Before, Joel wouldn’t say that he necessarily had a type, it still is a little shocking that he ended up with someone like you.

Before you speak again, you retrieve two lowball glasses out of your cabinet along with a bottle of his favorite whiskey, and pour two drinks, turning to offer him one. He accepts it cautiously, and you nod at him before taking a long pull of your drink.

“So uh,” you say. “There’s something I kind of need to talk to you about.”

You take another sip and then unbutton your blazer, shimmying out of it and tossing it over a barstool. Pushing the sleeves of your blouse up to your wrists, you cross your arms and chew on your bottom lip, like you are trying to decide how to break some sort of horrible news to him. Joel prepares for the worst. He racks his brain for anything he could’ve done or said recently that might have upset you, maybe even scared you off. But he’s coming up with nothing. What could he have done?

At this point, his parents even know about you, even if he hasn’t had the chance to introduce you. His mother tries, in her I’m-not-prying-but-I’m-definitely-prying type of way, to get more information out of him. She asks him questions like ‘Do you think she’s the one?’ and he doesn’t answer directly but it does make him think. He already knows you’re his one. He just wonders if he is yours.

It’s consistently been his fatal flaw. Joel falls hard, even when it’s not right. It’s how he has always been, and that’s how he ended up alone with Sarah in the first place. The very thought of you ending things makes him feel sick. He knows he’s in love with you, that he doesn’t want to look elsewhere. It’s becoming harder and harder to hold back. You’ve filled up all this space in his life that he didn’t even know existed. What is he going to do with it once you leave?

“What’s going on?” Joel asks, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as pinched as his throat feels.

“I should’ve told you this earlier,” you begin. “But….my dad has been sick the past few months.”

“Oh,” Joel says, but relaxes just a little, which feels a little selfish because it’s still unfortunate news. “I’m sorry to hear that. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine. I’m not really sure. Just…my brother called me today and apparently he’s taken a turn for the worse. The doctors…they think he doesn’t have that much time left. I…I need to go see him, I think. Before…” you don’t finish your sentence, you just shrug and look down.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah no, it’s fine, I’m fine,” you say dismissively. “I actually booked a redeye that leaves tomorrow night. I wanted to make sure I could still take Sarah to the office with me for her career day and everything, so you don’t have to worry about that. So yeah.”

“Do you need to leave earlier?” He asks. “She can always come to work with me.”

“No, no…” you give a soft smile. “I made a commitment, and….I want her to see how boring my job really is.”

Joel wants to smile back at you, but he doesn’t. Because despite the jokes, when you meet his eyes for a second, they look so dull and desolate it feels like it’d be inappropriate.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” Joel sets his glass down just as you pick up yours for another hearty gulp before continuing. “I got my company to approve me working remotely for two weeks. I don’t think it will be that long, but…I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Joel reaches out and rests a hand on your own. “You should go be with your family. Sarah and I will be fine.”

“I know that. I just…I don’t really want to go,” you say. “But I’ll feel bad for the rest of my life if I don’t…and at the very least, I need to be there for my brother. He’s closer with my dad than I am.”

Bringing the glass back to your mouth, you take another sip – at this point, the drink is nearly gone. Joel steps behind you, because he can’t really hug you the way you are now, facing forward and bracing yourself on the countertop. “Come ‘ere,” he murmurs softly, pulling you back against his chest. For a second, you tense. It’s like you’re surprised, still, that all he wants to do is be gentle with you. Once you remember, he feels your body relax, and your head falls back to tuck under his chin, one of your hands clutches his arm that wraps across your collarbone. “I wish you could come with me,” you say.

“Me too,” Joel says against the top of your head. He knows he can’t. Not with Sarah, and not with work being the way it has been. Unfortunately, the excuse probably wouldn’t go over well with the guys there. Not that he cares that much what they think, but he can’t jump ship right now. “But I’d have to find someone to look after Sarah….maybe I could ask my parents.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, no. I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Everything will be fine.”

“Well at the very least, do you need me to take you to the airport?”

“You’d endure rush hour traffic for me?” you tilt your head back to look up at him.

Joel laughs softly, leans down for a kiss. “That and more.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-September 17th, 2003-

The room you’re in is dark, but the lack of awareness of your surroundings seems to be the only thing keeping you from suffocating. You’re standing in your childhood bedroom, which doesn’t look much like it used to. It's a guest room now, but it never really felt like yours all the way, did it? You clutch at your stomach – you’ve been nauseous ever since your plane touched down at JFK – and reach towards your old dresser to steady yourself.

The vanity that had once been scattered with trinkets and trophies and photos of childhood memories was now vacant – pristine and polished. You wondered if the items had been thrown out, or dumped in a box somewhere in your old closet. It almost doesn’t matter – you aren’t interested in digging up any more memories. The feeling of your fathers hand clasped around your own had done enough.

You inhale deeply, bracing yourself against the glass top as you try not to throw up or pass out. For some reason, you had underestimated what you were walking into, and hadn’t expected your body to react so….viscerally. On the other side of the closed door, you hear your name, muffled from down the hall.

It’s hard to make out who it is, perhaps your stepmother, Meredith, or some other distant relative you hadn’t seen in years who had crawled out of the woodwork and now lingered in the apartment, hoping to get their piece. But you’ve locked yourself away. That’s what you had gotten so good at whilst living here. Hiding.

Until the door opens, and you squint against the light that floods the room to find the only person who has always known where to find you. Your brother.

“Hey. Ethan and Elizabeth are on their way up,” he says, then pauses. “Why are you standing in the dark?”

The lightswitch clicks, and the harsh ceiling lamp illuminates, starting the fan up with it and causing you to shiver. Vincent is frowning, standing halfway into the doorframe, his brows pinched.

You widen your eyes at him. Come on, don’t give me away yet. “Will you please turn that off?”

Vincent rolls his eyes, but obeys, switches on your desk lamp instead and closes the door behind him. “Are you okay?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know that you aren’t.

“It was a lot…being in there with him,” you look at the floor.

“Well, at least you know he still likes you. He’s not going to take you out of the will.”

It feels like a smack across the face, and your jaw drops. How could he be so oblivious to your pain, when he’s the only person in this house, in the world, maybe, who understands exactly how you are feeling right now. “Is that all you think I care about?”

“No, I-”

“I’m here because of you,” you say. “You wanted me here. So I came, and I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh come on,” he says. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“I wish I wasn’t here,” you continue on, despite his wishes. “I wish I didn’t have to wait my entire life to hear him say those things.”

Vincent’s expression shifts. He had been in the room. He had heard it. Your dad had been so….sweet. Gentle. Whispering praises even though his eyes were closed. You had expected, had wanted cruelty. This was somehow worse. Maybe he had known what you wanted all along, held it over your head, and waited only until the end of his life to give it to you. Even his admission of love was somehow malicious. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from regretting everything you’d done to get away from him.

Just outside the door is the flight of stairs that leads to your father’s room. And suddenly you aren’t an adult. You feel as helpless and as scared as you did when you were just a little girl – looking up at him, the view of his figure obscured by your brother’s shoulder.

“God, it’s so fucked up.” you choke out.

Vincent steps forward wordlessly, pulls you into a hug, and it’s only after you hear a quiet sob leave him that you let your own tears fall. There’s nothing either of you can say to fix the damage that has been done, so all you can do is cling to each other and cry.

“I know it’s fucked up,” he says. “I know. Maybe I should’ve….I could’ve done more.”

You pull back, relieved to see your tears didn’t ruin his cashmere sweater. “What could you have done?” you ask, dejectedly. “We were kids.”

Vincent doesn’t know how to answer that, but he wipes his nose with the back of his hand, and looks at the ground a moment before lifting his head. “We’ve got each other.”

But that’s hardly true anymore, and he knows it. You’ll always resent each other for different reasons – he had adapted to the circumstances, and you had left them. Neither strategy did anything to fix the damage.

You’re still weeping, but softer now, face wet with tears that fall everytime you blink. Swiping under your eyes, you sigh and attempt to compose yourself.

“Come on,” Vincent says. “Say hi to Ethan and Elizabeth. Dad is stable for the time being. We can take a walk or something. Get some fresh air.”

“Okay,” you agree. “I’ll be out in a second. I have to get my shit together.”

After he leaves, you check your makeup in the vanity, wiping away some smudged mascara before following him out. When you enter the front room, still sniffling, you pray that you don’t have a run-in with any other family members. But the only person you see besides Vincent is your sister-in-law coming through the door.

Elizabeth’s face is pinched in concentration as she tries to wrangle your nephew out of his coat. “What up, champ?” Vincent holds a hand out for a high five, just in time for her to free Ethan’s arms so he can reach towards his father, who stoops to accept his hug.

“Hi, Daddy.”

Elizabeth steps back and makes eye contact with you as you approach. In the past, you pitied her for the decision to marry into your family and then go on to have children with your brother. She was a little too good for him. But now, you feel like that was kind of a callous way of looking at things. You wonder if your brother would feel the same way about Joel for getting mixed up with you. Fortunately, Joel is still a well-kept secret.

“Hey, it’s good to see you,” Elizabeth says. “I’m so sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

“It’s alright,” you accept her hug and return her kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, too.”

She looks down at her son. “Honey, do you remember your aunt?”

“Hey, Ethan,” you crouch alongside your brother, and he nods, but still side-steps closer to his dad and smiles over at you bashfully. “How are you doing?”

“Good.”

“Don’t be shy,” Vincent encourages, but your nephew doesn’t seem interested in your attempt at an embrace, so you let them drop by your side.

“It’s okay,” you stand up, feeling a fresh batch of tears threatening their way to your waterline. Ethan’s treating you like a stranger because you basically are one.

“You’ve met a lot of new people the last few days, haven't you?” Elizabeth asks, then looks over at you. “He might be a little overwhelmed. He’ll warm up.”

Vincent stands at the sight of you starting to cry. “I am going to take her to get some air,” your brother puts a hand on your shoulder, speaking about you as if you are not in the room with them. You feel so useless, you might as well not be.

“That sounds good,” Elizabeth says. “We can catch up later. I ought to say hello to Meredith.”

You both nod, stepping into the hallway.

The fresh air helps, even if you can’t go far from the apartment. You walk around the block in silence, which gives you a chance to compose yourself. It’s a surprisingly warm day, although it’s much colder in New York than it is in Austin this time of year. In early fall, the leaves have only just begun turning.

You’re about to turn the corner to the stretch of sidewalk that leads back home, when Vincent plops himself down on a bench without warning. He fishes through the front pocket of his jacket and retrieves a flask.

“Jesus, Vincent,” you mutter under your breath. “Right now?”

“Uhm, yeah,” he answers. When you scoff, he continues, rolling his eyes. “Oh, get off your high horse. It’s just a little.”

“Aren’t you sad?”

“Of course I’m fucking sad,” he defends. “But I go to therapy now, so….I’m better at processing.”

“Yeah?” you gesture towards the flask. “Is that what this is called?”

“No. But it is the only way I can deal with Meredith.”

“You’re insane,” you say, but can already feel your exasperation fading. In your absence, he’s been dealing with all this alone. “Give me that.” Reaching forward towards the flask, he jerks his hand away just before you make contact.

“I’m not sharing.”

You pout at him. Come on. He rolls his eyes and passes it over. “Fine.”

While you take a sip, he produces a pack of cigarettes and plucks one out of the carton. “You don’t smoke these anymore, do you?”

“Not really. But I still have not managed to kick the weed habit.”

“Well I’m jealous,” he says, lighting it. “Now that Elizabeth and Ethan live with me again, I really have had to get my shit together.”

I’m sure you’ll fuck it up soon enough, you’re primed to say, but even as a joke, you feel like it’s a little too mean. It’s okay to let this be a nice moment.

“You know, if you wanted,” he says. “You could stay here for a couple months. I can get you set up with a place in the city. It might be good to be home…after…” You do your best to ignore his reference to the inevitable storm that hangs over your heads.

Any other time, and the offer might tempt you. This is your home, always would be, and you will always feel called to it. If you came back, all your family and childhood friends would be here. And without your father, things may be different. But now you have other priorities. “I can’t do that,” you shake your head.

“Why not?” He asks. You sit down on the bench, swipe the pack of cigarettes from where they sit between you, and take one for yourself. “Didn’t you say you were approved to work remotely?”

“No, it’s not that,” you light the cigarette and take a pull, coughing when you inhale too deeply. It’s not a joint. “I actually….met someone.”

Vincent frowns like he doesn’t believe you. “Really?”

“Yeah….he’s actually my next door neighbor.”

“Oh, you managed to wrangle a fucking cowboy-”

“How many times have I told you? I don’t live on a farm. You know what? Nevermind,” you roll your eyes, shake your head. “Forget I mentioned it..”

“Relax, I’m joking. Always so emotional-”

“Emotional? Emotional?” you ask. “Remind me which one of us was the one who had to be sent to a-”

Vincent’s eyes roll back, and his head tilts with them. “Oh, here we go.”

“It’s not a joke to me,” you say, desperate to end the argument, and it actually works.

“So is this….serious?”

You shake your head. “I mean, I…I think I’m in love.” It’s not as insane to say out loud as you had expected.

“I didn’t think you cared about that sort of thing.”

“I didn’t either. But…I don’t know. It just sort of happened.”

“What’s his name?”

“Joel,” you say. “He’s got a daughter, Sarah…she’s sweet. So is he…hardworking, thoughtful, kind….” you trail off, and veer away from becoming too sincere. “In other words, he’d fucking hate you.”

“Yeah, you know I repel the honest type.”

“No,” you correct him. “I actually think you’d get along. And you’d like Sarah. She’s funny.”

“I’m sure you’re a great influence on her,” he quips, sarcastically.

“I’m good with kids. I’ve always been a good aunt to Ethan?” you insist. “....when he knows who I am, at least.”

Vincent chuckles. “He knows who you are, he’s just in a shy phase. That or I’ve already fucked him up.”

You’ve heard some variation of the same from Joel while talking about Sarah, and it makes you smile, just a little, and wonder how terrifying it must be to have a child of your own.

“You couldn’t,” you tease. “Elizabeth wouldn’t allow it.”

He nods as if you’ve made a good point. “So that’s it? You’re really never coming home?”

“I mean, never say never,” you say. “At the very least, I should probably visit more often. I could bring them sometime to meet everyone. We could try to be a normal family.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Only your brother could find a way to make you laugh even under such dire circumstances. For a while, you’re quiet, and then you speak up again. “Being in love….it’s fucking scary.”

“That’s part of it,” he says. You sigh, shake your head, and put out your cigarette. “I’m happy for you,” he says, after a while.

“Thanks,” you smile. “I’m happy for you, too.”

Despite the fact that your stomach still hurts, you’re sleep deprived from the flight, and your father is standing at death’s door, you are thankful for what feels like a huge step forward.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-September 19, 2003-

Joel’s hand stretches out to stop whatever thing is ringing in his ear at such an ungodly hour. His phone. He doesn’t even think, just answers it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers it might be important.

“Hello?” he grumbles.

“Hey,” He can tell instantly that something is wrong. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t check the time.”

Joel looks at the clock. It’s six in the morning for you, and he’s never known you to be an early riser. He already knows what you’re going to tell him, but he asks anyway. “Yes but it’s alright. Are you okay?”

“My dad is gone.”

“Oh, baby,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shockingly stoic. “It will be okay. I just, I wanted you to know I’ll be staying longer than I thought. I’ve got to help my-” you clear your throat. “I’ve got to help Vincent with the arrangements and then my dad wanted his ashes scattered somewhere in Colorado. It’s where he grew up, so I’ll probably go there before I fly back, and-” You keep rambling, and Joel cuts you off.

“Hey that’s fine, that’s okay. Don’t you worry about that.”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna miss your birthday,” you say. “I had this whole thing planned where I was gonna take you and Sarah out to dinner, and it was gonna be really nice and-”

“We can celebrate another time,” Joel insists. “It’s okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, so quick it sounds like a reflex. “I knew it was going to happen, so...”

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t want to push you, but it’s very clear you’re holding something back.

“Yeah, I…” you trail off. “I don’t know.”

Joel doesn’t answer right away, just gives you a little space to process. The silence is excruciating, and lasts so long that he wonders if you’ve hung up. But eventually, you speak again.

“I don’t….I don’t feel anything,” your voice breaks, all strained and choked and horrible. “I feel like I should.” You’re hundreds of miles away, and Joel has never felt so helpless. “Something….something is really wrong with me. I can’t-”

“Babygirl,” he hears himself say, doing everything he can to calm you down. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He hears you take in a sharp, staggered inhale on the other line, struggling to catch your breath. “I wish you were here with me.”

Me too, I wish I was too. He wants to say, but all he feels is panic, tight around his throat. He feels like if he can’t get to you, something horrible will happen. What had he been thinking, letting you walk into this alone? Things must have been worse than you had let on. “Maybe I can try to figure something out.”

But almost as quickly as you lose control of yourself, he hears you clear your throat, a hard swallow. “It’s….it’s…it will all be fine. I will be okay, sorry, I just…” Joel can’t tell if you’re answering him, or if you’re talking to yourself.

Joel knows the routine pretty well at this point, each time you show any sort of vulnerability, you immediately pull back – like there’s some invisible boundary you’ve crossed that snaps you back into place if you test it. He’d be able to actually help you if he was there. In some ways, you being so open with him, but only over the phone….makes sense. It’s just another way to avoid him. He won’t resent you for it, but it doesn’t make him hurt any less.

“What can I do?” Joel asks. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine, Joel. I promise,” you sniffle, clearing your throat, pulling yourself together. “I’ll be home soon and everything can just…go back to normal.”

“Yes, it will,” he says. “You’ll get through this. And you’ll come home to Sarah and I. I’ll have a martini and a back rub waiting for you the second you walk in the door.

“God,” you say. “You’re so hot.”

Joel chuckles, relieved to hear your smile.

“You know,” your breathing steadies. “I would like you and Sarah to come out here. Not now. But another time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I was thinking about it. My brother has plenty of room. We could crash here, and you could meet everyone. I mean, Vincent comes across as like….such an fucking asshole, really, truly…but I don’t know. I think ultimately you’ll get along.”

“I’m sure we will,” Joel breathes softly.

“You just have to promise you won’t leave me if you don’t.”

“That wouldn’t make me leave you.” It’s you I love. He’s not going to tell you that over the phone. So he settles. “You are what I care about.”

“I feel the same,” you say softly.

You’re silent for a spell.

“I probably should go and eat something. I’ve felt awful for like three days straight and I finally have an appetite. And there’s really no problem that can’t be solved by a bodega sandwich.”

Joel chuckles. “I’m sure you’ll feel better if you eat something.”

“I will call you later, okay?” you say. “Thank you, Joel. I miss you, and I’ll see you soon.”

“I miss you too,” he murmurs. “I’ll see you soon.”

See you soon. For the next few days, everytime you call each other, every conversation ends with the same promise. Neither of you are aware it’s one you can’t keep.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-September 26th, 2003-

Joel sits in the front seat of Tommy’s car, and tries to hide the fact that his hands are shaking. There’s blood spattered on the front of his shirt, blood that didn’t belong to him. He’s done a lot of things to protect Sarah. To protect his family. He’d used that turn of phrase, that he’d kill for them, in passing, but never actually thought he’d have to do it. He did. He did. And he’s suddenly scared of what else he might be capable of.

He does not want this burden, to be a protector, but he has no choice. It has been his entire life. First an older brother. Then, a father. It’s worth more than his own peace, than his own life. He would sacrifice that every time if it kept his family safe.

And you, too.

He’s only just now looking down at his phone, trying to block out the noise of the voices on the radio that cut in and out of static. And it’s not because it’s broken. The world he knows is crumbling, he’s freefalling towards the earth, and he’s gotta grab the only things that matter or they will perish upon impact.

Sarah says your name from behind him. “Do you think she’s okay?”

It’s the first minute he’s had to think since he arrived at the prison to bail out Tommy. He has several missed calls from you and one voicemail. He doesn’t even think to listen, just immediately tries to call you back.

“I don’t know, babygirl.” The phone doesn’t even ring. Sarah’s hand falls to his shoulder and he squeezes it tightly, hoping she can’t feel that it’s still trembling. Joel has no cell service, and none of the calls are going through even after trying several times over.

Joel looks down at his watch to see what time it is. It’s working now, thanks to Sarah, who had told him that she’d got it fixed at a place you had recommended before you left. It’s delusional, but he hopes maybe this isn’t happening in Colorado. You’d called him this morning to wish him a happy birthday, things had been fine then. How could it all fall apart so quickly?

He accepts that he can’t reach you, and listens to the voicemail you’ve left.

“Hey Joel, I….something is going on here. I don’t know if it’s happening everywhere. People are sick. It’s….it’s…If I don’t see you again I hope I- I want you to know that I love you. Okay? You and Sarah. Thank you, Joel. Please…please stay safe.”

I love you, too. Why didn’t he just say it when he had the opportunity to? What had he been thinking?

Joel tells himself that this is not the end. Things will settle, even if it takes time, and you will keep yourself safe. You won’t get sick. All the promises you made to each other will be kept. Even as he tells himself this, he knows it’s probably a lie.

Still, he indulges. Things will go back to normal. As long as he keeps himself safe, he’ll find his way back to you again. It’s just a matter of time.

But his hope for the future, for anything else, dies an hour later.

549 notes · View notes

memospacexx · 5 months

Note

ok so there's a lot of headcanons that mammon is extremely protective over reader, especially when they're going somewhere else without him and it's not really surprising considering how dangerous the greed ring is, BUT what if reader is secretly a badass who can kick asses that but mammon doesn't know until they get in danger

like imagine this scenario

reader got kidnapped by a bunch of dumbass loansharks and they called mammon over reader's phone and minutes later mammon teleported at their base pissed and was ready to obliterate those who dare to hurt his love only to saw reader covered in blood, not their blood, but bodies of the sharks who are lying on the ground (may or may not be dead) with reader looking at them with a murderous glare, and when the reader noticed mammon their face changed from scary to normal like they didn't just kill a bunch of demons and goes "oh hi sweetie! 😊"

now every time reader shows off their fighting skills, mammon thinks they're hot

I went with a different direction cos my brain isnt braining rn and i coupdnt write something of the sorts that didnt look wrong😞 still on the laptop but i wanna give u guys FOOD

This was so fucking dumb

A bunch of loan sharks???alright man…

You stare at your captors, unimpressed, ya cant even muster up enough to talk or even care..

They took this personal cos of course they woulddd

They poked at you, tryna get you to call mammon himself (theyre too scared to do it on their own they might piss themselves)

Back at your place mammon wasnt happy, no he was FUMING he was on the verge of even asking OZZIE FOR HELP it was that bad. Mammon stomped around the room and aggressively runs a hand down his face. No other choice.

He picks up his phone to dial the sin of Lust when suddenly the door slams open

He turns so quick your woried his neck snapped

His eyes widen as he sees you, unharmed but covered in blood. Definitely not yours…

“Hi sweetie”

“What the fuck”

-he wants to know where u learned how to fight

- WHY you know how to fight

- and who taught you

- he thinks its hot but he genuinely didnt know you could hurt even a fly so he thought you’d be hurt, or worst, dead.

-“what the fack…” “whats for dinner mon” you were acting so casual??wadafuck

-its one less thing to worry about atleast, u can defend yourself, thank satan.

-he was a little less protective of you going out since you can fight but ya cant blame the man for worrying (your the only bastard willing to put up with him)

So here we are

You two face to face eating a romantic dinner together

Your just soaked in red. A shower together after dinner perhaps?

#helluva boss mammon #helluva boss #helluva boss mammon x reader #mammon x reader #helluva boss season two #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss season 2 #mammon #.memospace

294 notes · View notes

pimosworld · 1 year

Text

Company

Pairing -triple frontier boys x f!reader

Content warnings-18+,MDNI,NSFW, piv sex,oral sex, public sex,mentions of ptsd,light angst,fluff,smut. Explicit, this is an established poly relationship

Summary- sexually frustrated reader gets lost in thoughts about her boys.

wc-3.8k

Notes- this is my first fic ever so please feel free to comment with suggestions. I’ve been putting off writing for so long and I’m nervous to post but so excited. I hope you enjoy!

You’re not sure why the drive home is so quiet, Benny had won his fight after all. Even though it was off a technicality, he still won fair and square. Usually he’s buzzing with excitement after a win but right now, as you’re sandwiched between him and Santi in the backseat of the Jeep, you can tell he’s fuming. The heat radiating off his body should have long dissipated it’s been nearly an hour since he’d won.

Earlier in the locker room

“I know it’s not the way you wanted to win but we’re all still proud of you babe.”

It’s just him and you leaning against the wall inside the locker rooms. The rest of the boys are out grabbing beers, and are likely having the same conversation you’re having right now. He’s got a far away stare in his eyes that you’ve seen before, but not since your days in delta. That was years ago, and now you just want to kiss his face and tell him everything is okay. You won’t though because even though he won and he knows you always take care of him after a win, the only thing he’s said to you since you joined him in the locker room was that he didn’t want any company tonight.

It stings a little even though it shouldn’t. He’s entitled to want some space, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you are being a little selfish brat at the moment. It’s not entirely your fault when after a win he’s usually got you pressed against the lockers with your skirt bunched up around your torso, your legs wrapped around his waist and your hands on his bare shoulders. His strength after a fight is always surprising. Normally at this point, he’s holding you up with ease as he roughly fucks you against the lockers with your muffled cries of pleasure getting lost into the crook of his neck. His cock would be slammings into you over and over until you both reach your peak together. Jesus Christ you need to get a grip because you're having flashbacks about the man that is right next to you, and clearly upset.

Is your brain seriously letting you be this ridiculous? You live with 3 other men who are fully capable of keeping you company tonight. There’s just something about Benny after a fight that you can’t shake the feeling, the craving you have for him. That hungry look in his eyes when he has you laid out on the bench with his head between your thighs. He kisses your thighs and runs his tongue slowly up to your aching center,as if he’s forgotten he’s in a locker room and you most definitely can’t take your time. But he always does with you, he slowly licks your folds, his tongue feels hot compared to the cold bench on your back. The duael sensations are driving you mad. He nips at your clit and you look down at him almost in protest but those piercing blue eyes look back at you and he has this shit eating grin on his face. It’s the one you love and know when he’s being playful, he just wants to make sure you’re still here with him. He continues circling your clit with his tongue and you know you’re dripping down onto the bench beneath you. You’re desperately trying to be quiet but he adds a finger into you and you lose all train of thought as he fucks into you at a rapid pace, his tongue flicks your clit and a chill runs down your spine as you lose all sense of where you are. Your quiet whimpers have now turned into louder moans of his name.

Jesus fucking Christ you’re doing it again, get a grip. You can survive one night without Benny.

You will just have to torture one of the others with your frustrations, and how fun might that be?

As your thoughts drift back to the present, you’re in the car and you can see that Will has fallen asleep in the front seat. He’s been training Ben all week and is likely exhausted and a bit frustrated as well with the results. Will hates technicality wins because it messes with his overall record. Ben has been fighting for so long now it’s mostly knockouts across the board. Will is calculated and calm, he always has been. He’s the perfect trainer to juxtapose Benny’s fired up demeanor.

He was very calculated just two mornings ago when he fucked you in the kitchen. You both had a restless night sleep so you found yourselves bright and early in the kitchen enjoying your coffee together like a domestic couple in the suburbs. Except you weren’t a domestic couple by any means were you? No, both of you are in a full on relationship with 3 other people, both e your black coffee in your shared home at 5 am because you both had nightmares ( you all have nightmares) from your time in delta, and from your various other illegal activities after leaving the service.

You hate the restless nights but you love mornings like this, where the two of you, and sometimes all five of you,can enjoy your black coffee in silence, like the silent trained killers that you are (were?). That doesn’t matter, that’s just a joke between you and Santiago anyway.

“Are you done with your coffee?” Will asks with that sultry drawl of his voice still lazy with the lack of sleep.

You don’t answer but you slowly set your cup down on the granite countertop. He tilts his head and levels you with those blue eyes you’ve grown to love over the years. He’s let his hair grow out since leaving the service and his beard comes in nicely just slightly darker than his blonde hair that you love to pull when things get intimate. He stalks towards you in his gray sweatpants and crisp white, and too tight, t-shirt. You still haven’t answered him as he cages you against the cold counter top. You can feel the hard press of his cock against your abdomen in your thin oversized army T shirt. Is it yours? You’re not even sure anymore, it’s probably Frankie’s shirt but Will doesn’t care. He obviously doesn’t mind sharing.

He slowly grabs the hem of the shirt, his fingers dancing against your thighs. He raises his eyebrow at you asking for permission because of course it’s Will. You take his hands away from your shirt and quickly toss it over your head as it lands somewhere to your left to be found later. He stills in front of you taking in your naked form.

“ No panties or bra?” He asks you another question as if you’ve answered the first question.

What was the first question? He wastes no time lifting you onto the cold counter top. He kisses your neck and slowly drags his tongue down the line until he reaches your nipple, taking his time sucking and using his hand to grab the other breast and squeeze, brushing his thumb across your nipple. Your whole body is alight with goosebumps now, and pretty much anytime, Will ever touches you.

Before you can finish recanting your thoughts of the other morning you’re rudely interrupted by Santi poking you in the rib.

“Ouch what the fuck!”

“Calm down Honey I barely poked you!”

Even in the darkness of the car you can see his piercing gaze and his shit eating grin.

“Yeah, I’m trying to figure out why you poked me?” You say sassier than you wanted and return the grin in favor with slightly more of a smile than you wanted .

Frankie chimes in from the drive’rs seat

He asked you a question? When? You can’t even remember with your thoughts so caught up in fantasizing about the men you lived with.

“Hermosaaaaa, are you still with us?” Frankie’s eyes are somehow on you in the rear view mirror and paying attention to the road at the same time.

“We’ll I’ve got your attention now so I’ll ask again” Pope says in a bit of high pitched annoyance. “Which one of us is your favorite?”

You scoff at the idea that you would even answer let alone think that this stupid question is what pulled you from your thoughts of you and Will the other morning.

“ Do you actually think she would answer that?” Ben chimes in from beside you and you notice some of the heat and annoyance has dissipated from his demeanor.

He now seems more relaxed, shoulders less tense. You relax a little at the sight of your Benny returning to you. Still, you will give him his space tonight because he asked and you will always respect their space. That’s the only way this all works…respect.

“ You know I’m not answering that, and besides you all annoy me with equal vigor so I couldn’t possibly have a favorite.””.

Without turning to face Santi, you dart out your right hand to poke him in the ribs but he catches your wrist and stops you full force. You wouldn’t dare turn your head to see the fucking Cheshire Cat smiling back at you in the darkness of the car. You already know he’s proud of himself because his chuckling is reverberating through your hand that he still has clasped in his grip.

He leans in real close to your ear ( not helping your predicament) you can smell the musky cologne and the faint smell of beer.

“Ah ah ah, gotta be quicker than that,” he says playfully, still sensing your annoyance.

You rip your wrist out of his grasp and huff in frustration, as you glance back at the front seat and see Will still sound asleep. It warms your heart because sleep is hard to come by sometimes, and Will could certainly use some shut-eye.

So you’re obviously checking Will off your list of who will be your victim tonight. Between his long week and the way Frankie drives, anyone was bound to fall asleep.

Your thoughts perk up thinking of Frankie, as you watch him drive with such ease and control. The broadness of his shoulders as he lazily turns the wheel onto a familiar street. He always has such control when it comes to anything besides you. He would gladly lose control for you. Just the thought of the first time you saw him fly a helicopter can make you cum. That’s what attracted you to him in the first place. Although you couldn’t believe how you had managed to be placed in delta force with the four hottest men in the world. it wasn’t really fair. You supposed that Tom kept things equal, statistically speaking, being the least attractive of them all.

Frankie could definitely ease your frustrations tonight. He could never say no to you, it seemed there wasn’t a time when he didn’t want you. Once again you find your thoughts drifting off to the other day. It was a hot humid day in Florida. The kind you hated because everything stuck to you in all the wrong places. The sweat seems never ending on days like this and the bugs won’t leave you alone. Benny and Will were busy training at the gym and Santi was holed up in his office. You didn’t bother him on those days because you knew his mind would often take him to dark places. It had rained quite a bit the night before, and you knew the rain always brought thoughts of Columbia. He always took it the hardest and so you would leave him be for now.

That left you and Frankie to make what you could of this day and you knew he would do anything for you, and with you. The day had started off innocently enough, the two of you deciding to go to the beach.

Once you’ve arrived at the beach you quickly realize your mistake…everyone else in Florida had the same idea, and you and Frankie audibly groan at the sight of what feels likea thousand cars and a million people. Neither of you are in the mood for large crowds .

“What do you think Honey?”

You glance at Frankie in the driver’s seat and can’t help but smile. He tries so hard for you, you can see his smile lines have deepened over the years and his cap that perfectly frames his curls has faded slightly. You place your hand gently on his arm that’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight and notice the blue shirt he’s wearing hugging his bicep.

“Let’s go home “ you try to say with conviction so that he thinks you’re not upset in the slightest.

“I feel bad we came all this way,” “ he says as he pulls onto the road and you notice his frown. You just want to pull him into a kiss so that he never makes that face again.

“ I really am enjoying watching you drive so it’s not a total waste.””. You throw a wink his way and see that smile return that you love so much. You decide to just enjoy the drive and the only breeze you’ll get all day with the windows down.

He keeps glancing over at you but you’re not sure he knows you can tell. You did wear his favorite sundress. It’s red with little blue flowers on it, t. Thin straps and a very low neckline that perfectly frames your breasts. The hem hits just above the knee, but with the way you’rer seated in the front, it’s slightly higher. He chances one more glance at you and you can’t help but tease a little.

“See something you like Morales?”

He doesn’t answer you but places his warm palm on your upper thigh. You’re both facing forward because you don’t dare look at him now, and of course he’s focused on the road. He inches his hand higher until his fingers dance across your aching center. Your breath hitches in your throat when he starts to rub circles on your clit with his calloused fingers.

“You’re so wet for me hermosa, just watching me drive get you like this?”

You don’t answer him but you slowly spread your thighs wider to give him room. He groans at the gesture and moves your panties to the side to drag a finger slowly up and down, your slick now coating his hand. He stills his movement at your slight whimper and chances a glance in your direction. Your breathing has become ragged and he watches your chest rise quickly trying to calm yourself. Reluctantly he pulls his hand away but you watch as he slowly brings his hand to his mouth and liocks his finger.

He looks back at the road and says in the most sultry tone you’ve ever heard grace his lips.

“If I don’t pull over I’m going to crash this fucking car.”

You smile to yourself, you don’t have much of an ego but it’s erotic to know how much you turn him on by just wearing a dress. They all can be very simple that way, and sometimes you find yourself drunk on the power that knowledge holds.

He drives for a while and you think maybe he was just talking but you start to not recognize your surroundings. The beach long in your rear view has now turned into long leaf pine trees, the smell is intoxicating. He’s definitely taking the long way home and you don’t mind at all. Before you can get caught up in scenery you notice he’s pulled off the main road, he nestled the Jeep between some trees. Just enough cover you think for what he has planned.

Between the nearly illegal tint on the Jeep and the trees you have plenty of privacy, although at the moment you don’t really care with how keyed up you are just from his fingers. Something about them being a vet lets them evade the tickets they would normally get for the darker than limo tint on the windows.

He carefully takes the keys out of the ignition, still not looking at you and carefully sets them in the cup holder. He slides his seat back to give you room (you assume). A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Something you’re grateful for amongst all of them. They always make you feel comforted without speaking. Yyou can be yourself and just sit in the silence. Their presence is a blanket of protection that washes over you each and every day.

“Come here” he says in his low, husky tone. ,iIt’s not a question, but more of a command.

In less time than it takes you to blink you’re in his lap, your thighs on either side of his. You make quick work of his belt and he lifts you with him to slide his pants down. Each time you see his impressive length it takes your breath away. Frankie usually takes his time working you up but you’re already so wet you don’t want to waste anymore time, or risk getting caught. He gasps at the touch of your soft hand as you line yourself up to slide down his cock. The stretch has you both panting like you’ve run for miles. You rest your head against his broad chest, while he grips your waist as tight as he was holding the steering wheel just moments ago.

“Pleas-“ you both pant in unison. Which causes a chuckle from both of you. Neither of you know what you’re asking of the other. Is he asking you to move? Are you asking him to move?

Suddenly a sharp pain in your ribs has ripped you from your thoughts of Frankie and harshly thrust you back into reality, ( which you think you’re starting to lose your grip on).

“Earth to honey” Santi says in a sing-song tone.

You don’t normally mind that they call you by your call sign, it’s always sweet and endearing. Right now though, with the way Santi has interrupted your lewd thoughts not once but twice you want to break the finger that keeps poking you in the ribs.

Just as you’re about to give him a piece of your mind, you hear a loud groan from the driver’s seat.

“You good Fish?” Santi asks with concern for his best friend, the person he would do anything in the world for.

“Ya hermano it’s fine, it’s just my back is killing me and I’m ready to get home and lay out.”

You internally groan…well shit Frankie is off the list of victims. You would never disturb him on a night where he’s in pain. You all have been through the ringer between the service and your post service activities, and it’s definitely taken a toll on your bodies…some more than others.

You turn to look at Santi and resume your conversation about what his problem is with your ribs when suddenly it dawns on you.

He should’ve been your chosen victim from the start, he’s always so smug and you rarely get the chance to return the favor of him edging you for what can seem like hours. It usually doesn’t take much temptation from you to get him going.

You slowly start to slide your hand up his thigh, running your fingers along the seam of his tight jeans that always show off his great ass. You’re inching higher and without looking at you, you can tell he’s letting you as he slowly spreads his leg. You palm at his half hard cock through his jeans and you hear a low groan from somewhere deep in his throat.

You just want to tease him until you get home and then you can do with him what you want for as long as you deem necessary.

He adjusts his feet to give you more room and suddenly you hear a hiss come from him. You withdraw your hand immediately, fearing that you hurt him somehow.

“Did I hurt you?” You whisper into his ear so that the others can’t hear you.

“No carinño, it’s just my knees are killing me after last night,” he says apologetically.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you say out loud accidentally instead of in your head, like you meant to.

The look of shock and horror is etched onto Santi’s face and you just want the car to swallow you whole. You glance at Frankie in the rear view mirror and he has a look of concern and shock as well. You look to your right at Benny and the look of amusement is spread wide across his face. At least something good has come out of your outburst . It seems that the Benny you know and love is back and is loving the predicament you’ve most certainly got yourself into.

He crosses his arms and levels you with a grin and he just knows somehow where your thoughts have been this entire trip home.

“Care to share your thoughts with the class hermosa?” Frankie says slightly less concerned, now that he can see the embarrassment written across your face.

“No,no it’s fine….I’m fine, I’ll be okay “ you’re trying to convince yourself. “I just need a really cold shower.””. You say as you let your head drop onto Benny’s shoulder.

“Well we’re almost home, do you think you can survive until then? He asks now completely amused with this whole situation that he’s clearly missed because he’s been safely trying to get you all home.

Probably not, you think to yourself this time instead of saying it out loud.

Who could survive being surrounded by these four men who on any occasion you could have your way with yet tonight, as if it’s some horrible joke, you can’t have any of them. You start to think that you’re being a bit of a brat again, but you’re too far gone to care.

You feel like a fairytale gone horribly wrong, instead of Snow White and the seven dwarves it’s Honey and the four mercenaries. Mopey, Sleepy, Achey, and Breaky.

You’re now audibly laughing and concern washes over the car again.

“What did I miss, what’s so funny?” Will chimes in from the front seat, now wide awake.

“Nothing, I just think we broke her.” Santi states from beside you, careful to watch your movements for any sudden jabs to the rib. He thinks your laughter is a distraction to sneak attack him but you’ve long forgotten all about him interrupting your thoughts.

As Frankie turns the last corner onto your street, you silently resign to yourself.

You’ll just have to keep your own company tonight.

@melodygatesauthor Thank you so much for proofreading and adding your lovely comments. It means so much to me 🥰

#triple frontier poly #triple frontier x fem reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x reader #santiago x reader #will miller x reader #benny miller x female reader #will miller smut #benny miller smut #santiago garcia smut #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier boys x reader #triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for headcanoning deadnames for trans characters for symbolism purposes?

im a trans guy (minor if it matters) who's been a fan of this one show for a little over a year. none of the characters are canonically trans, but there's a lot of trans allegories to be drawn from the material if you're me or my mutuals at least. the two main characters are both male and i ended up developing an au where they're both explicitly transmasc as a way for me to just explore trans themes in an alternate narrative. i haven't begun writing it yet but definitely plan to once i feel like it's solidly locked in my brain, and i've been sharing snippets & concepts every so often.

part of this was thinking of how they would've chosen their current names, and name symbolism got me considering what they would've changed them away from as well. one character i thought could've initially been named after his mother so i can draw contrasts between the two, and the name i decided on for her has a meaning that highlights her relationship with her father (and the character's relationship with his father in turn); it's also the name of the character's daughter figure in the show. a lot of the other main character's backstory kind of revolves around his dead sister, so i thought by making his deadname that sister's name then i could turn that into an allegory about transness and childhood and sibling death (and sororicide but we don't have time to unpack all that). i don't plan on ever explicitly referring to the characters by their deadname in the narration, except maybe in an ironic tone, but i think it would be cool to sort of sprinkle in references as subtext to just give the readers something more to chew on.

the thing is i've seen posts around talking about how nice it is to make trans characters/headcanons without once considering their deadnames, or how weird it is for people to consider them, and i definitely agree with the sentiment; one of the biggest goals for many trans people is for their past selves to be completely irrelevant, and i feel a bit guilty for perpetuating something so painful for the general community.

but i still don't think i'm an asshole in any way since these are literally just characters and obviously i'm not going around talking about real people's deadnames or anything. i just don't want to make people uncomfortable/trigger dysphoria if they find someone talking about deadnames for a trans charactsr they're attached to (i've definitely had that happen myself when reading trans fics, enough that i had to stop reading, and i don't know how you'd even tag for something like that). if the general gut reaction to this ask is negative then i'll probably consider just not talking about the deadnames unless someone asks about it, since they're not crucial to the plot at all, just some uhh not so fun tidbits.

anyway sorry this is so long for something i feel like might be a non-issue that i'm overthinking. if you somehow guessed the fandom have a chocolate 🫀 if you're one of my few mutuals who knows who i am from the details of the au then um pretend you didnt see this post.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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for-a-longlongtime · 3 months

Text

Aquamarine

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x reader x Benny Miller

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI. 🏳️‍🌈 Characters are bi as fuck. 💖💜💙 Summary: Ezra has enjoyed being pegged by you from day one. When Benny comes over, a lazy afternoon takes an interesting turn. Things are said, orders are being followed, two of you might be to blame for Benny's ruined jeans, and that lovely turquoise strap-on gets used. Also, Benny learns how to suck a dick - and it's not just his mouth that becomes acquainted with Ezra's tongue. Let the good times slut roll. (PWP, that's it really.) Warnings/tags: Established relationship (f/m) plus third (hello, younger!BennyMiller from Triple Frontier!AU), dirty talk, brief masturbation (f and m), fingering (f and m receiving), rimming, anal sex, oral on a strap on, pegging, dildo is referred to as "your cock/dick" repeatedly. Some spit use (no kink). Word count: 5652 words A/N: This is part of the Peg That Middle Aged Man campaign organized by the amazing @wannabe-urs. Please go check out all the other fantastic fics here! I completely missed my 01/18 deadline because things/my brain got in the way, but I finally completed after all. Special thanks to many of y'all, but in particular @sin-djarin, @magpiepills and the @alltheglitterandtheroar for their support in getting this done. Infinite gratitude to the always amazing @morallyinept, in particular for her Ezra Dialogue post and Writing For Ezra guide! Dividers by @saradika. This fic is unbeta-ed (in an attempt to squash my perfectionism) and inspired by @prolix-yuy's Din pegging fic, thank you LJ!

He’s gorgeous like this. Spread out on the bed with your fingers inside of him, those groans of pleasure getting even louder when you slide your mouth back onto his cock. It’s not just about how he looks, although yes - part of the reason you’re soaking wet is definitely that sweaty curly hair with the blond streak. With his head tilted back into the pillows he looks even more attractive than usual, his eyes closed but bliss written all over his face, even after you’ve edged him for almost an hour already.

What gets to you the most is how unabashedly he surrenders himself. Body and mind greedy for pleasure, as if he’s been without nourishment for too long, deprived during all the time he’s spent on Bakhroma Green. He has no qualms to ask for what he wants, or what you want from him. That first night he fucked you better and longer than you had been in a long time, and still convinced you to call in sick the next day so he could do it all over again, making you scream his name until your voice was hoarse. So when you saw him looking at the harness in your toy drawer later that day, you were more than happy to return the favor.

You figured out pretty much immediately that this wasn’t new to him, so you rode him hard - having learned a thing or two about him in the previous twenty four hours - until he was a sticky whimpering mass, begging for you to keep going until he was beyond overstimulated. Afterwards he made you come twice on his tongue and fingers, and told you that while the strap was new for him, “the pleasure of being taken by a cock is not foreign to me, gem. No love too intimidating.” It was then that the thought of him being taken like this by a guy, or him fucking another man, had sprouted in your mind - something you kept filed away until the right moment came to revisit that.

Like now.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts, and Ezra frowns as you let his cock slip from your mouth. “Gem, I must implore you to ignore that interruption,” he sounds breathless as he grabs your wrist before you can slide your fingers out of him. “As much as I enjoy you keeping me on the edge…” he pauses when you give him a challenging look and curl your fingers up against his prostate, making his hips buck hard. “... having a visitor take up your precious time is not something I’m willing to indulge in.”

“But I got you something.” You smirk when his eyes light up and lean into the kiss he’s offering. “I know you’ll like it.”

“Well… You’ve piqued my interest with such a delightful promise,” he muses before he takes over your mouth with a deep kiss. “Nevertheless, I’m sure the courier can leave this offering at the door. I’m not ready for your hands to leave my body just yet. I…” He groans when you slowly start to move your fingers inside him again, and lazily runs a hand over his chest, teasing his nipples until they’re both hardened by the attention. “Grant me another one of those delightful fingers, gem.”

The hitch in his breathing makes a shiver run through you, and as another knock sounds on the door, you wrap your left hand around Ezra’s cock. Slowly stroking him without any hurry, matching the pace of your other hand. He watches you with pleasure, whimpering quietly when you gently slide his foreskin down to reveal the head, then lean down to lick the precum off his dick and your fingers.

“Come on in, the door is open,” you call out into the direction of the door once you’ve licked up all of him, almost like an afterthought. The momentary surprise on Ezra’s face is easy to spot, but it shifts almost immediately to amusement tinged with a hint of mischief. Most noticeable, he makes no effort to cover himself up or discretely move away from your hands - if anything, he makes a point of spreading out more on your sheets. Luxuriating like a cat under a warm beam of sunlight. Or perhaps a panther in the green is a more apt description; no trepidation, just a single minded focus. It’s exactly what you were counting on.

You press a kiss to Ezra’s stomach as you hear the front door open, and his cock twitches in excitement at the startled gasp of the visitor. “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, I thought—”

“You thought right, no worries”. You grin as you lick away the last drop of precum that has welled up, then take in your guest. Benny. Just as pretty as when you met him the other day. Tall, blond, a slim but well-defined body that makes it clear he likes to work out. Younger than Ezra, but not too young - probably late twenties or early thirties. He’s a sight to behold in many ways, but that pouty bottom lip and his captivating eyes stand out in particular. You know Ezra is a sucker for that - you remember him telling you that it were your eyes that had drawn him in. Like aurelac. Believe me, gem. I should know, considering how much I’ve harvested it.

“Glad you came. Close that door, would you?”

“What a pretty thing you’ve sourced for us.” Ezra’s voice is quiet so only you can hear him, yet his dick is anything but subtle; he’s positively throbbing under your fingers, but not addressing Benny yet, waiting for him to approach the bed. You see the hesitation on Benny’s face as he takes in the two of you, but there’s no room for hesitation in the way he licks his lips and shrugs his jacket off.

“Hi… I’m sorry if I’m interrupting.”

“Not at all, gentle man.” Ezra props himself up on an elbow, gesturing for Benny to come closer. He’s enjoying this, the panther in him all relaxed yet fully alert, letting his prey come to him willingly. “What is your name?”

“Benny. I met… we got to know each other, and she told me to come over.” He’s clearly trying to not be too blatant about staring at Ezra, but it’s fairly impossible to not look right at that stiff cock, surrounded by the thick curls of his pubes. It takes a moment, but then Benny seems to realize that you’re not just jerking off Ezra; you’re also still fingering his ass with easy, lazy movements. He clears his throat as he seems flustered, clearly not knowing where to look.

“Benjamin. Hello, Benjamin - I’m Ezra. You must have met this gem at the drinking establishment,” Ezra suggests as he strokes your cheek, holding Benny’s gaze. “Surely you were as enthralled by her as I was. Tell me, did you try to make her yours?”

Benny laughs nervously, running a hand through his dark blond hair as he shrugs, seeming flustered. “Yeah, I-... I’m sorry, man. Didn’t know she was yours.”

It takes one to know that Ezra’s smile isn’t quite as friendly as it could be, with just a little too many teeth bared before he speaks. “That is not true, Benjamin. This gem belongs only to herself. I have the distinct pleasure of enjoying her whenever she deems me to be worthy of her time.” He pats the bed next to him as an invitation. “Your presence here would suggest she has plans for you, too. So this is… exciting.”

You nod at that as you slide your fingers out of Ezra, who does not seem too pleased about this. “I want to watch you fuck Benny,” you say casually, grabbing some sanitizer and a cloth to clean your hand. “He’s never been with a guy, but I don’t think that has to be a problem. Or is it, Benny? Sit down.”

He follows the command without hesitation, radiating golden retriever energy as he seems eager to please, and just a little bit overwhelmed. You reward him by brushing your fingers over his jawline, tracing the soft stubble and the more pronounced goatee under his plush lip. He looks slightly dazed, but you have no concerns about that. Setting boundaries was no problem for him, you had already figured that out yesterday - because else you wouldn’t have invited him over. “Can I kiss you?”, you ask, and he nods silently.

“Use your words, Benjamin.” Ezra speaks up before you say it, and you can tell how the tone in his voice has changed since he last spoke. It’s sharper, hungrier, with a little bit of fangs in it. “I expect you to engage in candid discourse with us. Otherwise this is not happening, my friend.”

Something flickers in Benny’s eyes - a hint of resistance, or maybe he just rightfully feels intimidated. Ezra never is subtle about taking control of a situation, getting the upper hand either through words or more tangible weapons. But Benny doesn’t back down, lets his fingers brush down your arm, grazing your breast by no accident. “Yes, you can kiss me. Both of you can”, he then adds, sounding like a dare as his eyes are still on Ezra. “I’m fine with most things, and if not I’ll let you know.”

“How fortunate for us.” Ezra smiles as he leans back against the headboard and lazily runs his hand over his dick, giving you an expectant look. You don’t waste any time, revising your earlier plans to initially only make out with Benny. While he can’t take his eyes off Ezra, you climb into his lap, steading yourself with a hand on his shoulder as he settles in. He looks up almost in surprise, as if suddenly being shaken out of a day dream, and he wraps his arms loosely around your waist as he faces you straight on now..

“I like how you’re drooling over Ezra,” you tease him, to which he immediately blushes. “No, don’t worry, I’m the same way. It’s hard not to,” you hush him as you settle in, wriggling around for a moment until you’re comfortable with the angle, your bare pussy pressed against his denim covered cock. You brush your lips over his as you slowly rock against him, feeling his hand slide to your hip, the other one firmly grabbing your ass to pull you closer. “Ez has a nice dick, you know. Thick, generously sized… ever been up close and personal with an uncut cock?”

Benny seems already breathless when he kisses you, his tongue just as eager as his hips are, grinding up against you. “No. Not with any cock, really. Fuck. He’s… hot.” He groans when you grind down harder against him, your slickness leaving a wet stain on his pants. “You’re both really hot,” he then adds, kissing you harder as he seems to gain more confidence now. Slipping his hand between you, he gathers your wetness so he can tease your clit with his fingertip, and you whimper in delight by how effective he is. You can tell he wants to explore more, would probably gladly slip one or two fingers inside of your heat, but that’s not going to happen yet - you have plans.

“I like your mouth,” you breathe as you break the kiss, resting your forearms on his shoulders as you lean back slightly, perfectly aware of how this pushes your tits up in a spectacular fashion for him. “You any good with it elsewhere, too?”

His lips are on your breasts before you even finish the line, hot tongue licking one nipple before he moves to the other, then sucks it into his mouth in a way that makes your clit throb. “Anywhere and everywhere” he assures you when he lets go of it with a wet smack. “You want me to eat you out?”

“Not now. Maybe later,” you sigh in pleasure, rocking a little harder against his fingers, enjoying how he’s taking his time to figure out what gets you going. Over his shoulder you see Ezra, a predatory glint in his eye when he realizes he’s got your attention. You bite your lip hard when the hand around his cock speeds up, and Ezra lets the other one lazily slip between his legs, teasing himself with deft fingers where yours were minutes earlier.

You have to hold your breath for a moment to not lose it right there, and Ezra takes full advantage of it. His dark eyes hold you captive as he slips a thick finger into his hole, and you groan when you hear him breathe your name. He wants to get fucked by you, hard, and he’s not shy about it either. You’re throbbing in response to it - between his blatant need and Benny’s fingers between your legs, you feel yourself getting way too close way too fast. Especially when Benny’s mouth returns to your breasts, his teeth and tongue alternately teasing your nipples until they feel just as sensitive as your clit.

You pull yourself off Benny’s lap just before the waves threaten to overtake you, legs slightly wobbly as you try to compose yourself and calm your breathing. Benny is looking just as dazed as you’re feeling, and you’re pretty sure that the large wet spot on his jeans isn’t just caused by your arousal only.

“Pretty Benny,” you say softly as you run your hand through his long locks, admiring the play of dark blond hair with some lighter strands. You’re pleased to see his head tip back as he swallows, anticipation on his face when you slowly twist some of his hair around your fingers. “Tell me something. You like being told what to do?”

Benny’s eyes become glassy at your words, and you feel a little jolt of triumph at his eagerness. Perfect. You give a gentle tug at his hair as a warning for his lack of direct response, and he whimpers. Squeezing his stiff cock through his pants as his gaze remains on you, he doesn’t seem aware of Ezra moving behind him. His eyes close when Ezra’s large hand envelops his throat loosely, cupping it with thick fingers that then move up to stroke his chin.

“My gem is not in the habit of repeating herself, so I will do you that courtesy right now, Benjamin.” Ezra’s voice is gentle and warm, but you can hear the warning in his words. “She asked whether you like being told what to do.” His thumb slips into Benny’s mouth, its pad stroking Benny’s tongue for just a moment, then resting on his lip again. You feel slightly dizzy by how captivating it is. By no means is Benny a meek man, and he even has a couple of inches on Ezra in height. But there’s a willingness in him to follow orders, particularly when given by Ezra, that you find incredibly exciting.

“I do here, yes.” Benny’s voice is strained, and he finally opens his eyes again, looking at you. Both men having their glances fixed on you, both looking as hungry as you feel; one confident to the point of being almost predatory, the other momentarily overwhelmed by his own arousal. Ezra hums, reaching out to brush Benny’s lower lip with his thumb, his other arm snaking around Benny’s waist in an embrace. He dips his head down slightly so he can whisper in Benny’s ear, and you already know what he’s going to say.

“Suck it.”

Benny obeys immediately. The wet sound of his mouth around Ezra’s thumb gives you goosebumps, and you feel yourself throbbing once again. You had not yet planned on coming, preferring to take your time and enjoying the lazy exploration between the three of you. But you can’t help yourself any longer - you need your release now.

You slide your hand between your legs and touch your clit, gasping at how swollen and sensitive it is from Benny touching you earlier, and the extensive attention Ezra had paid to your pussy even earlier. Before you can reach further and slip a finger or two inside, Benny’s hand reaches for yours, a pleading expression in his eyes.

You nod benevolently, feeling his fingers gently enter you - only two, but thicker than yours are, and you moan as he strokes you, explores you. With ease he finds the right spot inside of you, rubbing and tapping it gently, and he smiles when you clench tight around him in response, your pulse suddenly skyrocketing. Without even blinking, he increases the pressure a bit while you stroke your clit, in tandem working towards your orgasm, and in no time at all you’re crying out and coming hard around his fingers.

Only once you’ve eased down, Benny withdraws from you, a content look on his face. For a moment you think that he’s going to put his fingers to his mouth, but he surprises you - turning to look at Ezra and offers him his slick fingers. The glee on Ezra’s face couldn’t possibly be any more radiant, and he grins as he wraps his fingers around Benny’s wrist. “A most gracious offering, my friend - it appears we have a good partnership here,” he muses as he lifts Benny’s hand to his lips.

“Fuck me, you’re killing me with that,” you whimper, hearing how hoarse your voice sounds. The sight of Ezra sucking Benny’s fingers into his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue before he lets go, is making you greedy. For more, for them, for someone’s dick being taken down someone else’s throat, and it’d better be soon.

Ezra smirks, entirely too pleased with your reaction, then leans in to kiss Benny. Cupping his face in his hand, a gentle kiss on his lips first, but as Benny sighs in pleasure you see Ezra quickly get bolder. He shifts on the bed as he draws Benny closer to him, fingers stroking through the dark blond hair as he leans to kiss his jawline, then lets his lips wander back to Benny’s mouth again.

“Your eyes are extraordinarily striking.” Ezra hums, almost as if talking to himself, his thumb brushing over Benny’s eyebrow. “Ocean blue, but.. viridescent. No. Aquamarine,” he corrects himself, and you smile to yourself - that’s exactly what you expected him to call it the moment you laid eyes on Benny. Leave it up to Ezra to try to capture colors through precious stones rather than using obvious terms.

Benny laughs a little awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond to that. “Ahh, thanks? Hey man, you don’t need to woo me.”

“I can assure you I am not even doing such a thing, Benjamin, nor do I believe that I will have to do so when pursuing you,” Ezra teases him playfully, reaching down to the unzipped jeans so he can cup Benny’s cock through the gray underwear. “If I may be so bold - you already appear to be a done deal, my friend. Wooing does not seem necessary anymore.”

Benny huffs as he shakes his head dismissively. “You’re very cocky.”

“You’re very pretty.” Ezra laughs loudly when Benny blushes again, and you reach out for Ezra’s hair as you give it a hard tug before he can say anything else.

“Smart ass. Be nice to our guest, hmm?”

“Of course.” Without missing a beat Ezra’s hand lightly grasps yours and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “You may want to go have a drink of water, gem. Hydrate yourself. Perhaps bring your cock with you when you return?”

Benny looks confused for a second, but seems to drop it when Ezra grabs him for a proper kiss this time. There’s a moment of hesitation from Benny, but then his hand slides into Ezra’s neck and he pulls him closer. He takes over the kiss from Ezra, tongues greedily finding each other to share the taste of you and explore each other. Fuck, they’re beautiful. Ezra’s roughness, unpolished edges and a direct approach to ensnare you in his words, make you part of his game - versus Benny’s eagerness, being entirely too pretty, the light and captivating energy around him impossible to resist. They’re a good match in all their contrasts.

Benny pushes Ezra down into the pillows, practically climbing into his lap, and Ezra’s large hands immediately paw at him to remove his shirt. It’s tempting to stay and watch, but you remind yourself that some water is a more urgent need right now. You gulp down a cup from the chilled pitcher, then half of another one as you walk to the dresser across the room. The mirror above it gives you a perfect view of the guys making out, and you shamelessly admire them as you rummage through your toy drawer. First your leather harness, then you sort through the silicone dicks until you find the turquoise one that you like the best for Ezra.

Once you’ve put on the harness and slipped the dildo through through the O-ring, you walk back to the bed under the watchful eye of Ezra, who has Benny grinding into his lap as they’re still making out like teenagers. Eventually he breaks the kiss, sucking a quick hickey onto Benny’s throat as he watches you touch your silicone dick.

“Kevva, gem. Look at your cock,” he says quietly, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire for you. He grabs Benny’s chin lightly and turns his head, making him look at you, and you see the surprised expression on Benny’s face as he takes in your appearance. The way the leather straps softly dig into your skin, the size of the dildo, and then you see the realization dawn on his face that none of this is a surprise to Ezra.

“Your mouth is all messed up,” you say as you reach out for Benny stroking the slight redness that Ezra’s stubble left on his pale skin, lips swollen from kissing and his skin slightly flushed from Ezra’s stubble. “Looks good on you.”

“Would look even better on you, gem.” Ezra’s voice is low and gravely as he runs his fingers through Benny’s hair, brushing the strands back. “How about you suck her cock, Benjamin. Do you see how magnificent it looks on her? You can show her that you know how to use that pretty mouth in different ways,” Ezra whispers into his ear, urging Benny off the bed and in front of you, then adds, “Show us how you can take me in later.”

The breath Benny sucks in at those words is clearly audible, making Ezra’s grin widen even more as he moves to stand behind you, running his hands over your soft curves as he keeps his hard dick pressed against your ass. For a moment you wonder if this might be pushing him a bit too much, but then Benny kneels at your feet, a sight to behold. All lean muscle and strong arms, dick hard in his underwear, and looking even more fucked out than earlier.

Benny’s fingers brush over the leather straps of your harness as he examines it on you, pressing kisses to some spots where the leather is threatening to leave an imprint on your skin. “I like the leather,” he says, sounding almost surprised, and just like earlier you find yourself clenching again, especially when he fingers the base of your cock and the balls. For some reason his careful explorations thrill you more than expected, especially once he decides to go for it and lap the head of your cock. Careful licks at first as he seems bashful, fingers brushing over the ridges and fake veins on the phallic silicone. You let him explore, let him get used to the idea of him being on his knees and about to take you in - hell, let him get used to the idea of a dick in his mouth period, even if it is a fake one.

“It’s not gonna bite you, Benjamin.” Ezra has moved over to Benny and is now kneeling behind him, hand resting on Benny’s back as he nods at the dildo. “Will you allow me?”

You raise an eyebrow at Ezra. “Look at you, so polite and sweet to him. Why don’t I get that?”, you tease, and Ezra grins as he smacks your ass hard, making you yelp.

“Because you do not care for that, gem. Come here.” You watch as Ezra’s hand closes around the strap on, leaning in without a moment of hesitation.He’s done this so many times, but never in front of anyone else. Benny watches Ezra’s tongue lavish your cock with attention, and you can tell from the way Ezra’s fingers press into your hips that he’s getting too excited, his body desperately needing release from having been stimulated in so many ways this afternoon.

A quiet groan escapes from Benny’s lips as he watches Ezra’s head bobbing, up and down, and you see Benny’s hand close around himself, the head of his cock almost angrily red and leaking all over him. He fucks himself into his fist, then whines loudly when he sees Ezra take you in all the way - sliding down on your cock until his nose meets your skin and the leather straps.

You laugh, almost breathlessly, as you slide your hand into Ezra’s sweaty hair and cup the back of his head, holding him in place as you watch his throat work on you. “You take it so well, Ezra. Fuck, yeah, there you go,” you gasp, starting to pull back when you feel him gag for a moment. “Easy there, easy-”

“I’m fine,” the words stutter from Ezra’s lips as he sits up, catching his breath before he turns to Benny, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Oh, shit. That really got you going, huh?” He sounds hoarse as he nods at Benny touching himself, then leans over to him, pulling Benny into another sloppy kiss. His hand joins Benny’s, intending to help jerk him off - but you’re officially out of patience with Ezra’s chaotic energy crackling at frantic levels. He’s been too wired for too long now, and you know there’s only one way he’s going to be able to let that go.

“Get your ass on that bed,” you tell him as you smack his butt playfully, looking for the container of slick under the pillow. “Now, pretty boy. You too, other pretty boy,” you nod at Benny, “...go sit against the headboard.”

They both follow your lead, but you can tell by the glint in Ezra’s eye that he’s not about to back down - you know it’ll just be a matter of minutes before he’s running his mouth again. “I don’t want to hear you. Got it?”, you warn him preemptively as you push him down in the sheets, onto his stomach, then give his ass another hard slap as you twist the lid off the small glass jar with slick.

Ezra groans, letting out a deep sigh as he looks back at you. “Again. Other side too,” he says hoarsely, then sucks in a deep breath when you oblige - a smack against his other cheek, then two more on each of them as you hear him whimper in pleasure.

“Thought I told you to be quiet”, you challenge him as you spread the slick all over your cock. “Ass up now. Are you–”

“I’m fine, yeah,” he interrupts you, so eager he’s nearly tripping over his words, and he whines as you spread his cheeks, running your slick fingers over his asshole. “Please, just…” He groans when you run your thumb over his rim, letting it slip into for a moment. “Shit, shit, yes. Come on, gem, I can-...”

His words trail off as you push into him, just the tip of your cock at first, making sure he’s taking you as well as usual. When he nods at you to keep going, you slide your hand under him and reach for his half hard cock, stroking him steadily as you push further into him. His breathing still stutters but he takes the strap easily, eagerly as always. When you look up for a moment you see Benny staring at the two of you in awe.

Ezra notices it too, and you feel the laugh that’s rolling through his chest before you hear it. “I think Benjamin is rather intrigued by the idea of being taken by a cock, gem,” he suggests, sounding rather amused as he grinds back against you. You pick up the pace as you thrust into him, and it doesn’t take long for those broad shoulders to fully relax. His cock is leaking in your hand as you fuck him steadily, hitting him at just the right angle to make him groan, and you hear him lick his lips as he beckons Benny to scoot closer. “Benjamin… come over here, won’t you? I don’t bite. Unless you’d want me to, in which case… today is going to turn out even better than I thought it was.”

“Hey, Benny? I’m gonna need your help here,” you order the other man as you keep up your pace, resting one hand on Ezra’s hip and the other one on his back, as you stroke his warm skin that’s glistening with sweat. “Need you to shut him up, okay?”

“Fuck. Yes - please,” Ezra gasps, his voice breaking for a second, and you feel a shiver run through him. You’re not even sure which one of you three groans the loudest when he takes Benny’s cock in his mouth, but you can feel your thighs slick with our arousal by the view in front of you. Benny’s a goner almost right away, his hand on the back of Ezra’s bobbing head as he guides him down on his dick, hips pushing eagerly towards his release.

When Ezra’s nose brushes against Benny’s neatly trimmed pubes, holding still for a moment, Benny’s hand drops away as he mumbles something incoherent. You hear Ezra’s half choked grin, see him pull back as he licks Benny’s tight ball sack which earns him another moan. “Tap out if it’s a no,” Ezra tells him before he spits on his digits, brushing his fingertips over Benny’s taint which gets him an even louder moan than before.

“Jesus, Ezra,” Benny mumbles as he closes his eyes, leaning his head back as he lets Ezra handle him. You’re not surprised when you see a flash of Ezra’s pink tongue sliding over the perineum, and you slow down your thrusts to not jostle him too much. When Benny’s hips suddenly buck up hard without a warning, you hear Ezra hum and the sound of more spit against skin.

“Just relax, Benjamin, I’ve got you. Let it go,” Ezra hushes him, rubbing Benny’s thigh soothingly as he keeps his mouth to him, a soft smack of his lips as he sucks on his finger. “ ‘s Gonna feel good, I promise, yeah?” Even though being behind Ezra doesn’t quite provide you with a clear view, you can see just enough of what’s going on - Ezra’s tongue tracing Benny’s rim, slick with saliva, hushing him some more to relax as he takes his time, and then Benny whimpering when Ezra’s finger gently pushes inside of him.

“Fuck. Ezra, fuuck, I can’t– please… please,” Benny begs him, and Ezra beams as his finger slides into the second knuckle. He hums as he mouths Benny’s balls before moving back to his cock, the back of his head blocking most of your view as he works on drawing more moans and pleas from Benny. It’s not long before Benny cries out Ezra’s name along with a string of curses, his body shaking hard until he goes pretty much boneless.

Benny heaves a deep sigh as he practically melts into the bed, reaching out to brush something off Ezra’s face - some spilled come, you would assume. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding very regretful at all as a smirk plays over his face. “Got it all over, huh?”

“I’ll take you on your word that that was not deliberately aimed, Benjamin,” Ezra says with a shrug, brushing the back of his hand over his cheeks and forehead. “Make sure to keep that in mind next time when I bust a nut over your face, too, hmm?” he adds with a grin as he wipes his hand clean on a bedsheet, then wiggles his ass against as he looks at you over his shoulder. “That was some good team work from our partnership, gem.”

You nodded as you rub his ass gently, moving along with him as you slowly start to pick up the pace again. “Hey, at least it wasn’t me in the line of fire this time, you know?”

He laughs at you, stretching his arms one by one, followed by his back as he hums contently under your touch - the caresses to his back, the kiss you press against his bicep. He still has the predatory look on his face from earlier, that panther stretching in the sun while examining his prey, looking extra smug this time.

“Yeah, but you clean it up so pretty with your mouth,” he teases, the two of you both knowing that Ezra is always the first to grab you a wet towel when it’s needed. “As for now…” His eyes darken slightly as he grasps your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss before he brings it to his throat, folding your fingers gently around him.

“Better finish me good, gem. You know I’ll make it worth your while.”

My brain was fried when I put this up originally, so I'm tagging people only now to let y'all know this posted (and you may be interested): @marisferasiop @ghostofaboy @immarocketman @ezrasbirdie @whatsnewalycat @gasolinerainbowpuddles @idolatrybarbie @writefightandflightclub @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @maggiemayhemnj @linzels-blog @lady-bess @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @undercoverpena @sp00kymulderr @i-own-loki @ladamedusoif @penvisions @bonezone44 @auteurdelabre @ohforficsake @swiftispunk @max--phillips @kiwisbell @beskarandblasters @rifflovesjoey @chronically-ghosted @iamskyereads

Love to all the sluts! <3 @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @secretelephanttattoo @arcanefox207

Taglist for those who requested it : @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @pimosworld @survivingandenduring @romanarose @rubyfruitjungle @criticalarchitecture @kt86 @gemmahale @rav3n-pascal22 @rhoorl @laurfilijames @musings-of-a-rose @perotovar

#pedro pascal characters #PMAMC 2024 #ezra prospect #benny miller #triple frontier

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