#so um. all of this might just be made up and in my head LOL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fairyysoup · 4 months

Text

his hands

pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.

cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men

a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore.

“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?”

The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with.

The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.

You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.

“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.

“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”

“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.

“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.”

“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?”

You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.

“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”

“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.

“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”

“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.”

You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”

“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind.

You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.

It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open.

Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.

You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.

You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.

After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it.

“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter.

You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?

Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.”

You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look.

“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”

You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.

Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens.

“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”

“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies.

Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”

“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.

“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”

“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again.

“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”

“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible.

“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”

You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”

Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”

“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.”

“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?”

“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit.

“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.

You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.

He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.

After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.”

You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head.

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.

“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”

“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat.

Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors.

“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.

“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”

His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror.

Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it.

Cocky bastard.

“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?”

“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”

“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”

A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places.

“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation.

Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.

“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.

“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for.

“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”

“Tell me where to sign.”

He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time.

“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back.

You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.

“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?”

You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?”

“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”

“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”

“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?”

“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right.

Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!

By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.

You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.

False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.

You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.

You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.

“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”

What the fuck did you just say?

Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”

When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.

There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.

This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.

“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”

“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”

“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”

His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander.

Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all.

“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.

Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.

You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”

“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.”

“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”

“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”

The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.

“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”

“No way.”

“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.”

“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.”

“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”

A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”

“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.”

You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”

Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?”

“Yeah, not too flashy.”

“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”

Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.

Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.

You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.

“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.

You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up.

When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.

Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”

Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–

Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”

“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.

Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–

“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you.

You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven.

You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room.

“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.

“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck.

“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh.

“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.

Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?”

Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.”

“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.”

He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”

Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.

When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.

Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you.

“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat.

His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more.

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”

He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”

You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.

Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather.

“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.

“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already.

“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”

You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same.

“Good girl.”

Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume.

“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.

“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling.

Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”

You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”

Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.”

Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.

Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours.

“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said.

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.”

Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger.

Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes.

“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”

You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs.

“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”

Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.

You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down.

“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”

“Eddie, we’re naked.”

“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”

“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it.

“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #roses*#eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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bloodsuckingfiends · 1 month

Note

I’m 100% blaming the absolute FILTH on this app for my new found breeding kink, but can I request a little Drabble of like a needy Astarion who has finally figured out he wants Tav/reader pregnant? He practically craves it just second to her blood, overwhelmed with the desire to watch her carry his kids. It just clicks in his brain one day and he’s like “yup. It’s happening. This month. We’re havin’ babies.”

UM yes. 1100% yes you can request this. Thank you for fueling my own breeding kink

Also, this kinda got filthy. I might expand on this later LOL.

Breed

It was hard for Astarion to pinpoint exactly when the switch inside him flipped. It could have been when he saw her interact with a friend's newborn when they had visited one evening, or it could have been in the way she gently rubbed her rounded belly when she showed him last cycle how bloated she had become. If there was one thing he did know, was that both of those situations made his heart flutter, and his mind flood with ideas. Ideas of what it would be like if it was a white haired babe in Tav's arms instead, their eyes twinkling the same shade as hers, the color that he loved so much. What it would be like if her belly was rounded with his child, instead. The more he thought about it, the more he needed it.

Astarion needed to pin Tav beneath him, her thighs spread wide and her breasts pressing into his chest. He needed to sink into her waiting heat, his cock swallowed up by her soft insides. Had to feel his balls press against her ass as he sank in as deep as he could possibly go, the head of him kissing her cervix. Panting against her soft neck, breaths desperate and sporadic as he thrust into her. Needed to beg her to let him fill her, let him spill his seed into her waiting womb. To breed her. He didn't care what the odds were. He needed to try, at the very least, to get Tav pregnant, their love evident to all who would lay eye on her swollen belly.

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goodiegoddesselle · 4 months

Text

my favorite pair | L. DH

pairing: enemy roommate!haechan x reader

genre: smut, sir/daddy dom, unprotected sex, degradation, pervert haechan lol, enemies to lovers, uses doll/toy as a nickname

summary: you see one day that your annoying roommate, haechan, hasn't done his laundry and just left his basket by the washing machine. sure, this is irritating, but it reminded you to do your own. when you finally start getting your own clothing, you notice that your favorite pair of underwear is missing. on top of noticing that, you notice that your roommate, who moves around the apartment a lot normally, hasn't left his room at all that day either.

wc: 3k

minors dni. dont like, dont read.

______________________________________________________

You were tired of him. Tired of the dishes constantly sitting in the sink. Tired of his friends constantly being piled up on the couch, like you didn’t live there too. Tired of all the noise from his gaming—finally, it truly occurred to you just how tired you were of your roommate Lee Haechan.

For the most part, he didn’t do much but sit around and annoy you, whether or not he actually did his chores. It was almost like he messed with you on purpose. Despite all of this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from still having a partially hidden crush on him.

Yes, sadly, you did have a crush on him. You did, but there’s only so much you can do about having a crush on someone that doesn’t really get along with you the way you truly would’ve liked. It was almost impossible not to, nonetheless, seeing as Haechan was one of the most gorgeous men out there. His hair was long, golden and wavy, his eyes glowed a glistening honey color, and his voice was sultry with the perfect tenor tone. And with the amount of talents this man had, there really wasn’t anything you couldn’t like him for.

Did Haechan know about this crush, though? Never in a million years. You figured you would die before he even came close to knowing about it, let alone actually knowing. Especially since he was so irritating to you, even at that moment.

“Ugh, can you actually do your damn chores Haechan? I would like to take a break too, y’know!” you called out. You were in your room, digging through your clothes after seeing his laundry basket lying next to the washing machine. You figured you might as well do the laundry anyway, since he wasn’t getting around to it and your clothing was beginning to pile up inside your room.

A deep sigh left you as you dug through your underwear and recognized that something was wrong. It was gone—your favorite pair of panties was missing, and oddly enough, this was the first time that has ever happened to you. Your eyebrows scrunched in complete confusion. Where the hell could they have possibly gone?

You searched a little further, peeking under your pillows and through the rest of the drawers until Haechan’s lack of movement started making you curious. Sure, he was annoying, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t another human, and he typically moved around the apartment a lot more than he was that day.

Immediately you turned around, walked out of your room, and headed to the bedroom next to yours. It wouldn’t take much to get in his room anyway, seeing as he was either playing a game or sleeping with all the grunting he was letting out.

At least, you thought so.

You simply knocked on his door twice before letting yourself in, ready to talk about his laundry until your eyes landed on your roommate, who rushed to pull his blanket over his completely nude body. The squat you would have to do to pick up your jaw would probably give you the strongest legs on Earth.

“Woah!” he yelled, his eyes wide as he scrambled to hide his hands under the blanket as well. “I, um—I was just, uh, I-I…”

“There’s no need to explain, Haechan,” you interrupted, a smirk slowly spreading across your face, “I already saw them. Really? That’s what you’ve been doing?” The laugh that left you made his face turn the hottest shade of red.

It wasn’t hard to see Haechan holding your favorite panties in his hand. For once, you weren’t angry about it either. It was, however, a teeny bit shocking instead. You didn’t know that he was like this at all, seeing as every time one of your pairs would go missing, you would find it somewhere in your room the day after. The whole time you just figured it was you making them disappear. At least, until now.

You walked a little closer to him, closing the door behind you and giggling lowly. “Lee Haechan, when were you ever going to tell me that you are the world's most hidden pervert?” you asked. It was like he was frozen in place, internally freaking out as you leaned in and ran your thumb across his chin, his breath completely silent. “Well? What are you going to say about all this?”

“You know what, I was going to find an excuse, but since you want the truth so bad…” Haechan sat up, suddenly grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from his chin while pulling you closer. Your eyes widened as he held up your underwear again. His lips rose into a cocky grin as he waved them back and forth, watching the annoyance cover your face all over again. “It’s one thing to want you this badly, y’know, but you make it really easy to come and get these. And if you want them back, babe, this time you’re going to have to work for it.”

You scoffed. “Work for it? When it belongs to me? Guess you’re always like this, huh?”

“Like what, Y/N?”

“So goddamn infuriating!” you answered, rolling your eyes. Haechan laughed and leaned closer and closer to you, all the way to the point where your lips were almost touching, but not quite yet.

“Do you know you only get hotter and hotter the angrier you get?” Haechan replied. “If you didn’t want me to be so ‘goddamn infuriating’, then stop being so goddamn hot.”

He closed the distance between you two, tilting his head and pressing his lips to yours. It took no time at all for you to respond to it. You kissed him back fervently and climbed further onto his lap, sliding your hands onto his shoulders and taking his words and actions as an invitation to fight back. It was hard to reject him, after all, especially after feeling his teeth graze against your bottom lip several times.

The feeling of Haechan’s arms wrapping around your hips brought you into a high you didn’t even know you could reach, only getting higher and higher as he leaned down to your neck, slowly leaving kisses and sucking marks onto your warm skin. Crowds of moans left your lips, making him bite even harder. Out of nowhere, he flipped the two of you over and shoved you onto his mattress.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks or how much I infuriate you, babe,” Haechan whispered into your ear, licking the shell of it, “you’re mine whether you like it or not.” He tossed the panties away from the bed and went back to leaving hot kisses on your lips and neck. But this time, you could feel his fingers sliding down your torso, all the way until he reached your pajama shorts and pushed under them. Another chuckle left him, and you could feel your face scorching from embarrassment, knowing damn well that he was laughing because you weren’t wearing anything under them. Your lips separated for a moment, but shut shortly after, shyness killing your effort to say something before he did. Haechan, however, already knew where you were headed with that.

“Oh? What, do you only wear your favorite ones?” Despite knowing it was a genuine question on his end, you really couldn’t find it in you to answer him. You even looked away, but that had no point, especially since he grabbed your jawline and immediately pulled your head back into facing him.

“Look at me when I speak to you, and don’t make me tell you again,” Haechan ordered. “You can use your words, doll. In fact, I’d like it better if you did.”

“Um, n-no, I don’t,” you stuttered back. Haechan’s gaze alone was intimidating you, which only made the situation ten times better than when it began. In fact, it got even better than that, right when his fingers started lazily rubbing at your cunt, slipping between your lips and toying with your clit. A loud groan filled the room the moment he began.

Haechan slid two of his fingers into you while keeping his eyes on yours. “For someone that loves talking about how annoying I am, you’re pretty wet right now. Soaked, even,” he teased, fingers massaging at your sweet spot gently. “It’s real cute.”

A frown crossed your face. You wanted so badly to say something back to that, but there wasn’t much to say back to the truth, really. However, as he picked up the speed of his fingers, the frown died within a few seconds, followed by his name being pulled out of you. Each second after, you could feel yourself getting closer to finishing, and you were completely ready for it—until he ripped his hand out of you. At first you were upset about it, but then you saw him licking your essense off of his fingers with an evil grin on his face, and that settled right away, being replaced with the need for him to put something much bigger back where his hand was.

Haechan pulled his fingers out of his mouth and chuckled, saying, “don’t think I can’t tell when you’re almost there; you made that face like you were ready to explode.”

Another pout crossed your face. “Then why didn’t you let me get there?” you asked. His face straightened out as he looked at you like you truly didn’t understand the situation you put yourself in at the moment. Again, he grabbed your chin and made you face him, his eyes flaring now instead of swirling with honey like usual.

“Did you really think I was just going to let you cum and we’d be done here? When you haven’t even thought about what you need to do for me too? Get up.” His hand slipped away as he climbed off of you, gesturing for you to rise up as well and take your shorts off. Despite being ordered to, another thought came to your mind and you figured things would definitely get different if you followed it. This time, a smirk crossed your face instead, and you crossed your arms.

“If you want me to get up, make me, then,” you baited, watching a look of surprise spread across his face before disappearing quickly. Before you could even see what he was planning to do, his hand shot across the bed like lightning and grasped your wrist again, startling you. Somehow you knew where this was headed for you.

“Last I checked, doll, I told you not to make me have to tell you again,” Haechan growled, ripping you off of the bed and in front of him, “but if you’re going to make me, you’re going to find out why I warned you to begin with. Shorts, off. Now.”

Completely filled with intimidation, you wasted no time in pulling your pajama shorts off this time, being completely nude from the waist down. Haechan’s gaze swept over you before he lifted your shirt up and leaned in, lips heading for your chest, right below your neck this time. He began leaving spots all over it, suckling onto your skin and heading lower and lower each time. You couldn’t help yourself from whining as he did it, grabbing at his shoulders again as your legs shook.

“H-Hae…” you mumbled, grip tightening around him. Haechan’s teeth grazed across your right breast before his head lifted. “Is there something my little toy wants?” he interrupted. With a tight throat, you simply nodded, hoping you could find it in you to answer him with words this time, but it didn’t take long for you to find out that those words wouldn’t matter either way. He lowered his head again and bit on your nipple, making you cry out into the room.

“Remember what I said earlier? Disrespectful playthings like you don’t get what they want either way,” Haechan said, sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you up. “Learn how to act right next time and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

“Yes…” you moaned.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir…”

Haechan hummed in response and turned around, pinning you against the wall next to the door. “Now it’s my turn to play with my little toy,” he muttered. It didn’t take much time at all for you to feel it—the feeling of Haechan stretching you out with his size alone, making you wonder if you could even take someone as big as that. Your face froze with your mouth open, facing the ceiling in complete shock, your soul escaping your body more and more the deeper he got into you. Haechan himself let out a long, smooth moan as he pressed into you.

“God, I never knew you’d be this tight, Y/N,” he said, pulling out a little before thrusting himself back in roughly. “So, so good…” The two of you stayed still for a moment as he let you get used to his size. After a few moments, Haechan began again, pushing and pulling himself in and out of you at a slow pace at first.

“Sir,” you finally spoke, “can you speed up a little bit?”

“I will if you ask me nicely,” he responded, still moving slowly just to mess with you.

“Sir, please speed up,” you pleaded. Haechan leaned down and left a quick kiss on your neck before speeding up to a pace more hasty, more rough and harder to handle. Part of you regretted asking him to get faster, but most of you couldn’t even focus on that. You were enjoying the sensation of his cock hitting your sweet spot full force each time he slammed into you, your back pressing against the wall as he fucked you.

“Look at my pretty little doll, taking it like she should be,” Haechan teased, going harder and harder into you. At this point, you could barely handle what he was giving you, but every part of you wanted it. Needed it, even. You could even feel your orgasm coming toward you full speed, like a car on the highway at night. With how loud you were moaning, too, everything in you knew that he could tell as well.

“I’m so close,” you breathed, your arms tightening around his neck as your cunt tightened around him.

“Really? Is my doll already so close? How bad do you want it?” Haechan asked mockingly.

“So bad,” you replied, “really, really bad…”

“Yeah? Then beg for it.”

“Please, sir, please let me cum; I need this so badly…”

Haechan reached his hand down and began stroking at your clit. “Keep going, babe.”

“I’m so close, please let me cum, I’m begging! I-I’ve been doing good, please, I’ve been a good girl,” you continued pleading as a shock of what felt like lightning passed through you. If he didn’t decide now, you were going to release either way, and you didn’t want to disobey him all over again just to get another punishment.

“Hmm,” Haechan hummed decisively, almost jokingly. “You have been doing pretty well so far… I think you’ve earned it. You know what to do; cum for me, now.”

Immediately you released, his order cutting the tie for you. You were squeezing his cock as your juices leaked out, spreading all over him as he continued to thrust into you. It was amazing, but the overstimulation was starting to hit you not too long after.

“S-Sir, I can’t take this anymore,” you cried, legs weakening around his waist as he continued.

“Yes you can, doll,” Haechan responded, grunting lowly, “because good girls take what they’re given. And I’ve got something for you to take.”

Your nails were clawing into his skin at this point. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity increased. You could feel another orgasm coming for you, and your whole body was ready to implode all over again. Haechan pressed his face into your neck again, taking a deep breath in before moaning at full volume, picking up speed as he pounded into you.

Not too long after, Haechan’s teeth sunk into your collarbone again as he moaned, “now take everything Daddy gives you.” Instantly, you were filled with more and more of his cum as he came, pushing you harder against the wall and leaning up instead to kiss you on your lips instead. The two of you made out even after he finished, even after both of you noticed that his release was starting to drip out of you, and even after you noticed you had also came while he was getting off. After a while, the two of you finally pulled away from each other, Haechan still carrying you but just not against the wall anymore.

Soon after, the high started fading away, replacing itself with a different level or nervousness. The reality that you just slept with your crush-slash-enemy hit you like a full-force train. At some point, you decided that since you already did all of this, you might as well just let him know anyway. “I just wanted to say, Haechan,” you began nervously, “that I do actually like you… I just didn’t really have a way to let you know, I guess…”

The nervousness began peaking when all Haechan did was watch you in silence while blinking. Then, out of nowhere, another gentle laugh escaped him. “You think I didn’t know that, Y/N? What did you think I bothered you so damn much for?”

“You what?” you gasped. “You fucking knew that already and didn’t ask me out or something like that instead?” He shrugged.

“Just wanted to play with my toy first. You should already know that you’re mine. I’m just glad everyone else gets to know now, too,” he said.

You sighed. “You’re so freaking annoying.” Haechan leaned in right by your face again.

“Doesn’t matter; either way you’re mine. Aren’t you, doll?”

#haechan #nct dream smut #haechan smut #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct 127 haechan #nct 127 haechan smut #nct haechan smut #nct dream #nct dream haechan #nct dream haechan smut #nct

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months

Text

sanctuary

words: 900

warnings: scary movie, small mention of sex (actually to say nothing sexual lol), first kiss <3, soft!rafe

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you curse quietly, trying to find some way to get out of the situation. “how about the hunger games?” you interject into the conversation, kelces new girlfriend tessa shaking her head no.

“if we watch one, then we'd have to watch catching fire, then…” she trails off. “i think we all agree on hereditary.”

you simply swallow hard. you don't want to admit how much you truly hate horror movies, especially when the room is filled with your friends and their boyfriends.

you take a seat on the couch, schooching yourself as far away as possible. maybe you'll fake being asleep to get out of having to watch the scenes unfold.

you pretend to be very interested in the thread on your pants as the opening credits begin, blinking up when the spot on the cushion next to you is taken.

rafe gives you a soft smile. out of everyone in the room, he's the one you know the least, despite the movie night taking place in tanneyhill. he's friends with all your friends, but you've never made a point to hang out with him, mostly due to the crush practically every girl has on him, his charm and good looks not making you immune either.

“hey.” you say softly, smiling at him, noting that there's various other seats open, but rafe chose next to you.

“are you sleeping over?” rafe asks. a majority of the group planned to disperse among the many tanneyhill bedrooms, as the following day rafe is throwing a party, with the rest of his family being out of town, theres no reason not to take up residence inside on of the mansions many rooms.

“um, if there's an open bed.” you shrug. you drove yourself so you had the choice to go home at any moment, just in case you needed to back out.

“ill make sure there is one for you.” rafe whispers as the movie starts. you nod and give him an appreciative smile as his eyes turn towards the screen.

the opening of the movie is slow, building up to the scarier parts. you pull your knees in to your chest, trying to watch out of only one eye as the scenes get creepier and creepier.

you jump at the first scare, along with some other people but your reaction gets noticed by rafe, who places a hand on your shoulder. it almost makes you jump as much as the movie does.

“you okay?” he asks, moving closer to you.

“not a big scary movie fan.” you admit, looking rafe in the eye to avoid looking at the screen.

“oh.” rafe smiles slightly, hand going from your shoulder to wrap around you, pulling you into him in an unexpected move.

“you're not gonna make fun of me?” you question, the words slipping from your tongue before you can think out of sheer surprise.

“of course not.” rafe says, hand squeezing gently, comfortingly. “just… hide against me for the scary scenes.”

you manage to make it through the movie ducking your head against rafe, pressing your squeezed shut eyes into his chest, eventually relaxing into his grip, cuddled together on the couch as the movie finishes. his presence next to you keeps you from freaking out at the scary scenes, his strong arms never wavering from their place wrapped around you, even when popcorn is brought out and drinks are passed around.

“thank god.” you mumble when the lights get switched back on. rafe chuckles lightly, pulling you closer once more before letting you sit up with a stretch.

the couples rush quickly to their rooms, leaving a few stragglers to pick off the remaining bedrooms.

“i might just go home, rafe…” you look around tanneyhill, it's mostly dark, a majority of the lights shut off, giving the historic house a scary feel.

“ill drive you home if you want to, but if you don't want to sleep alone, my bed is open.” he says it so casually you're worried you misheard him.

“huh?”

“nothing sexual.” he shakes his head. “just sharing a bed. ill even keep a nightlight on for you.”

“really?” you giggle. you only want to go home so you don't have to be in total darkness.

“yeah.” rafe places a hand on your upper back, guiding you towards his room. there's already a light on, but he clicks an extra lamp on, illuminating the room even further.

“thanks.” you mumble. “for during the movie and for this.”

“it's my pleasure.” rafe smiles, climbing into bed, everyone having changed into their pajamas before the movie. he flips the covers back, gesturing for you to slide under them.

you keep yourself towards the edge of the bed, not wanting to invade rafes space when he's already done so much for you.

“oh come on, get over here.” rafe opens his arms up, and you smile, shuffling over to place your head on his chest, legs tangling together. the steady beat of his heart relaxes your own as you place a hand on his torso, holding back your gasp when you realize how prominently you can feel his muscles through the fabric of his shirt.

rafe kisses the top of your head. it's sweet, so different from what you're used from him. you pick your head up to look into his blue eyes.

“thank you.”

rafe leans down, pressing your lips together in a soft kiss. “i mean what i said.” rafe gives them another peck. “nothing sexual tonight. but if after the party when you've had some time to think about it…”

you nod enthusiastically, a smile on both of your faces. “im sure ill find myself in your bed tomorrow night as well.”

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teapartyprincess4two · 5 months

Text

Big Sister- Sturniolo Triplets

pairings: big sister!reader x littlebrother!triplets

classification: fluff, sibling banter

warnings: none, unless you’re easily triggered then all (lol jk)

summary: Reader is a couple of years older than the triplets, having lived a completely different life to theirs by the age of 25 and is invited onto the Cut The Camera Podcast as a special guest. Reader and triplets retell stories of their childhood and learn more about the readers past.

Big Sister PT.2, PT.3

—

“Alright, good morning campers and welcome back to the Cut The Camera podcast. It’s one of your hosts, Nick Sturniolo,” Nick introduced the video casually before allowing Matt to introduce himself.

“Matt Sturniolo,” Matt introduces himself briefly, offering the camera a small smile before averting his gaze toward Chris.

“I’m Chris,” Chris’ introduction, much like Matt’s, was short, sweet and to the point. He allowed his smile towards the camera to do all the talking as he waited for Nick to redirect the introduction.

“And today we’re here with our beloved older sister, y/n! Y/n, introduce yourself,” Nick’s voice held an undertone of excitement as looked at you expectantly. For a second you felt slightly awkward, but soon realized that you were doing this simply because your younger brothers asked you to, not for anything or anyone else. You let out a shaky breath before introducing yourself, “Hi! I’m y/n, Nick, Matt and Chris’ older sister.”

For some reason you believed that your brothers would put up a facade for the camera and pretend their way through this entire session, but Chris’ response to your introduction quickly burst that bubble, “Yeah he just said that genius, he means tell us about yourself.”

Your face burned slightly from embarrassment, causing all three of them to erupt in a slight fit of laughter before you continued. You were slightly glad that Chris responded to you like that because it was normal sibling banter, it made the rest of the interview type questions seemingly easy to answer.

“I’m nervous okay! I’ve never done anything like this before! I’m just a normal girl from Boston, guys. Not all of us can be big L.A hotshots,” you teased, earning a joking scoff from both Nick and Matt. “Anyways! As I mentioned, my name is y/n, I’m 25 years old…” you paused for a second as you thought of what else to say. “I was born in Boston and lived there for a majority of my life but have since moved to Texas. Oh and um… I work in education.” Once you finished speaking you hummed in approval at your own response before continuing.

“That’s all I’m going to say, I have to leave room for any juicy questions you guys might ask,” you wiggled your eyebrows playfully towards Nick and glanced between him and his laptop. He surely had a plethora of questions prepared for you all stored safely on his laptop. The gesture caused him to laugh and cover his face from cringe.

“NEVER. Do that again,” Nick whisper shouted through his laughter, referring to the cringey gesture you had just thrown his way. Matt and Chris caught sight of it too and laughed at both the gesture and Nick’s reaction to it.

A small smile creeped it’s way onto your face as you shrugged your shoulders before responding, “If I don’t embarrass you guys at least once every time I’m with y’all, I’m failing as an older sister.” They each chuckled at this statement shaking their heads disapprovingly. “We have so many embarrassing stories of y/n, don’t be fooled,” Chris chimed in, giving Matt a knowing look.

You glared at your younger brother as Matt nodded and let out a laugh, all of your shared embarrassing childhood memories flooding his brain. This statement provided Nick with the perfect segway into his first question, “SPEAKING OF EMBARRASSING CHILDHOOD MEMORIES! My first real question for you y/n, what is your earliest memory of us all together?”

“Hmm,” you though for a second, pensively tapping at your chin. As you thought of an answer, searching in the depths of your brain for the earliest childhood memory you had with your brothers, they mimicked your gesture and looked off into the distance. Finally you remembered something and began to answer, “I guess my earliest memory would be-”

Before you could finish your answer you realized the three of them were mimicking you causing you to roll your eyes in feigned annoyance, “you guys are so annoying.” It came out playfully, making them laugh. “I’m going to pretend I’m not being bullied by you gremlins and continue to answer this question,” you shook your head with a chuckle and sat back in the booth, adjusting your microphone so it was closer to you.

“Gremlins? That’s crazy,” Matt chuckled, grinning ear to ear at the hideous nickname you had just given them. You waved him off, already beginning to lose your train of thought.

“Considering I’m only five years older than you guys, my earliest memory isn’t all that magical. I think my earliest memory is from when mom took us to go watch Open Season in theaters and you three wouldn’t stop crying,” you laughed slightly, remembering it like it was yesterday. “Justin and I were so mad cause mom had to leave the theater with you guys and we couldn’t find her once the movie was over. We were legit wandering around with nothing but popcorn and soda to our names.”

Chris burst out laughing at this, struggling to contain himself at the thought of you and Justin wandering around a movie theater like impoverished children. “You’re laughing now, but you’d be scared too if your mom just popped out there clones and left you and your older brother alone in a theater. We started crying thinking mom left us!”

“It’s kind of sad that your earliest memory of us involved you and Justin crying in a movie theater, but it’s also so funny that we’ve been absolutely TERRORIZING you from such an early age,” Nick chimed in, both he and Matt joining Chris in his uncontrollable laughter. You smiled from ear to ear at this comment because it was entirely true, as soon as your mom gave birth to the triplets you were completely outnumbered 4 to 1. For whatever reason, God had decided to send you four brothers and gave them each the same goal; terrorize y/n.

“Was Open Season good though? I never finished it,” Matt asked, unable to stop himself from laughing at the pure ridiculousness of his question. This question sent your brothers into another fit of laughter, earning a swift “shut up” from you.

—

The rest of the interview continued like this, light banter being exchanged between you and your brothers. Soon enough, the atmosphere became more serious as Nick’s questions earned more honest and vulnerable answers out of you.

“Okay, so a lot of our viewers are curious and want to know why you moved to Texas,” Nick asks, scrolling through his laptop as he searches for the question he’s going to ask after this. You don’t answer him verbally, instead raising your left hand and wiggling your ring finger for the camera to see. On it rested a beautiful diamond ring and it shined brightly every time you moved your hand.

Chris and Matt hooted and hollered at the sight of the ring, clapping dramatically. “Impressive I know, I know,” you put your hands up in feigned defeat, causing Nick to roll his eyes dramatically. “Elaborate please. You got these two sounding like literal gorillas right now. Hooting and hollering,” the sassiness in Nick’s voice is all too familiar, only egging the other two on.

“Okay, okay. If the ring didn’t tell you enough, I moved to Texas because I got… drumroll please,” you looked between your three brothers expectantly, waiting for them to begin the drumroll. They quickly began tapping on the table and as the tension built you revealed the answer, “I GOT MARRIED!” You dramatically waved your hands in front of you doing a jazz hands movement. When you revealed the answer, they all clapped dramatically as if you’d accepted some type of award causing you to wipe fake tears from your eyes.

“I know a lot of you are devastated that a beauty like myself is no longer up for grabs, but there are plenty of fish in the sea,” you said, thinking that it would earn a more dramatic reaction from your brothers considering you were hyping yourself up so boldly. Instead you were met with a serious response from Chris as he completely disregarded your last statement, “I still can’t believe you’re married, I can’t imagine being married at 25,” he looked down at his lap, shaking his head silently before continuing. “Shit- I can’t even imagine having a girlfriend at all right now, let alone being married.”

Nick and Matt nodded in agreement, making quiet comments about how scary marriage sounded right now. You understood their perspective, but also took into consideration the vast differences in your lifestyle compared to theirs. “Mmm… yeah it can be scary. I was scared, very scared actually,” you admitted. This earned shocked glances from your brothers.

“Why were you scared? You and Jack seemed so excited when you guys announced it?” Matt questioned, surprise written all over his face because this is the first time he’s hearing of this. “I was about to ask the same thing. You seemed so excited when you told us,” Nick chimed in.

You chuckled lightly at the naivety of their comments, “You can be scared and excited at the same time.” They hummed in unison, encouraging you to continue speaking. You took a deep, nervous breath and rubbed your hands alongside your thighs unsure of how much you were willing to disclose to the internet. Nevertheless you braced yourself and continued.

“Well, I’m sure you guys are aware of the nature of Jack and I’s relationship?” You asked, looking towards your brothers to ensure that they were following where you were going. They nodded eagerly, once again encouraging you to go on.

“Yeah, Jack is Justin’s best friend from school,” Chris mentions with a wave of his hand, it comes out casually and hurriedly as if he’s disregarding it as an important detail to the story. “Okay so you guys might not know all of this because you were younger then. But when Jack and I started dating, we kept it a secret from everyone. Especially Justin.”

Your brothers gasped at this revelation, none of them having known this before. “That’s crazy,” Matt whispered, his eyes opened wide. “Matt shut- shush. It’s getting good. Y/n, continue,” Nick quickly cuts Matt off before he can continue speaking, earning a small chuckle from you as you continue.

“Jack and I started dating when I turned 18, so you guys would’ve been roughly around 13 years old?… Yeah, 13. Anyways, we kept it a secret for 2 long years before Justin found out,” all three of your brothers held shocked looks on their faces. Chris’s mouth was wide open, jaw basically to the floor. Nicks hand was over his mouth, his eyes blown open in shock. And Matt held his face in hands as he shook his head.

“This was a long time ago at this point, so it doesn’t matter anymore, but when Justin found out he was really really mad,” you laughed as you remembered the situation, remembering how he’d told your parents about it and everything as if you weren’t a grown adult who could make your own decisions. “What did he do?” Chris asked, eagerly awaiting the end to this story.

“He told mom and dad, which is so weird considering I was twenty at that point. I didn’t even live at home anymore,” you laughed again. “Anyways, he didn’t speak to me or Jack for a good 6 months after that and I really, really didn’t know if he ever would again. He said he felt hurt and betrayed, which I guess I understand, but we hadn’t done anything wrong, you know?”

“I know I said this already, but that’s actually so crazy,” Matt whispered, his face as close to the microphone as possible. “I agree, I wish I was aware of this then,” Nick said, failing to recall any signs of older sibling rivalry in his memories.

Chris on the other hand, had placed on the pieces together, “Wait! Is that why you didn’t spend that Christmas with us that year?!?” At this revelation, Matt and Nick gasped again as they remembered it clearly. You were absent for Christmas that year, claiming to be too busy with work and school.

“Bingo!” You said.

“Oh wow! No wonder Justin was so distant that year,” Matt recalled, remembering how Justin had disassociated the entire night.

“This is all shocking news to me. But it still doesn’t explain why you were scared to get married. You and Jack didn’t get married until you were 23?” Nick pressed further, trying to squeeze all the juicy details out of this story before you decided you’d had enough and moved on to the next topic. You nodded, recalling the initial question that led you down this rabbit hole.

“Right, right. So, after a while Justin and I talked it out and he and Jack made up. Anyways, when Jack proposed to me I felt like Justin would just get mad all over again and I was scared to lose my brother, you know? I just didn’t want a repeat of what happened the first time,” you admitted, allowing the vulnerability of your words to sink into the atmosphere. You were looking down at your lap, picking relentlessly at your fingernails in an attempt to distract yourself from crying in front of rolling cameras.

Nick clutches his heart at this, whispering an almost inaudible “awe” as he looks at you, his older sister, in a completely different light. Never had he thought you to be so family orientated, so worried as to what your big brother might think of you. For his whole life you’d just been his older sister; the person he looked for when he had boy troubles, when he needed a shoulder to cry on, or when he needed someone to talk to that wasn’t Chris or Matt. He had never stopped to think that you were also someone’s younger sibling, looking for comfort and acceptance in your older brother.

“Anyways, that’s why I was scared AND excited for marriage. Why are you scared?” You asked, looking directly at Chris in an attempt to lighten the air and direct the attention towards someone else.

“My reason is gonna sound so stupid compared to that, bruh. Let’s just not even get into it,” he sighed as he rubbed his temples, still trying to process the complete bomb of information you’d just dropped. This caused you all to laugh, the atmosphere changing drastically to what it had felt like a couple of seconds ago.

—

Nick proceeded to ask you a few further questions before ending the session with a quick outro. You waved at the camera, blowing a quick kiss at it and throwing a wink its way. “Stop that immediately,” Nick laughed, scrunching his face disapprovingly at you. You returned the laugh, getting out from the booth to stretch your back from having been sitting for so long. Matt informed you that the cameras were no longer recording, which actually made you feel extremely relieved.

“I’m hungry,” Chris groaned loudly, also getting up from his seat to stretch before making his way towards Matt. They were soon engrossed in their own conversation. Nick made his way towards you, immediately engulfing you in a hug.

“What is going on right now?” You chuckled, returning the hug and patting his back dramatically. He ignored your attempt at turning this into a goofy encounter, instead hugging you tighter before responding, “Thank you for sharing today. And thank you for being such a good big sister.” His voice came out in a whisper, letting you know that he was being sincere.

“Aw, Nick. I love you, bud.”

PT.2, PT.3

—

AN: I only wrote this simply because every thing I read regarding the triplets that remotely involves a sibling is always YOUNGER sister related. As an older sibling, I simply cannot relate to that, so I wrote this for all the older sisters out there. Anyways, I haven’t written ANYTHING since I was maybe 15 (when I was a fiend for 5sos, One Direction, and any other person who popped up on my screen) so don’t judge this or I will cry. It’s not proofread, it’s just for fun. I will possibly, probably, most likely never write anything ever again because I don’t want to. Okay byeeee

-L.A.M.B💗👼🏻

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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weirdkpopgirl · 15 days

Text

Enough | Jaemin Imagine #14

Title: Enough

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of kissing -- light makeout session, suggestive dialogue (but nothing crazy)

Word Count: ~1k

Author's Note: This imagine was an idea I had for a very long time, but I just never got to writing it. For awhile, I went back and forth as to which member to give this story to. Ultimately, I'm weak for Na Jaemin, so I chose him. I know you guys like this sort of stuff too, so I hope you enjoy it (not too much though lol). Please look forward to my future works as well. Thank you for reading ^ ^

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jaemin made his way into your cozy living room with a steaming mug of lemon tea in hand. His eyes quickly found you seated on the floor near the coffee table. Despite the dim lighting in the room, your face was illuminated by the soft glow of the laptop in front of you. Jaemin started to smile, observing how focused you were on writing the story you’d been working on for months. However, his smile froze when he noticed you nibbling your lower lip and sighing in frustration.

Quietly, he shuffled over to sit beside you on the carpet and carefully set down the drink on the table. You picked up on his presence immediately and glanced up at him with a small smile.

“Thank you,” you said, curling your fingers around the handle of the mug before taking a long sip of the warm beverage.

He instinctively reached a hand to tenderly brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Everything okay?” he asked in the calm, low-toned voice he typically used during late-night conversations with you.

You hummed in response, holding back from sighing again. “Yeah. I’m just stuck on this certain part of my story.”

“What’s it supposed to be?” Jaemin tilted his head, his dark brown eyes filled with a blend of curiosity and concern. His innocent question unintentionally made you hesitate, your eyes flickering back to the screen before meeting his gaze once more.

“Well, this is when my main characters are supposed to have their first kiss,” you explained, already feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks. “And for some reason, I’m struggling with the technicalities of it. It’s just frustrating because, I don’t usually have much of a problem with writing kiss scenes.”

Although you felt silly admitting this to your boyfriend (of all people), your frustration outweighed your embarrassment. Jaemin was the type of person who never seemed fazed by anything, but you still expected him to tease you.

Instead, Jaemin wore a thoughtful expression, arms crossed over his knees. “Why don’t you try acting out the kiss with me? It might help you get a better feel for it.”

Eyes widening in surprise at his suggestion, you began to protest. “I-I don’t know, Nana. I mean, that’s a bit…” you trailed off, shyness instinctively taking over.

But then you paused, considering his idea for a moment. It wasn’t actually that bad and might help you with this little dilemma. After all, he was your boyfriend, so being close to each other wasn’t out of the norm. Certainly when you were dating Na Jaemin, possibly the most affectionate man you knew.

“Hm, I guess it can’t hurt to try,” you conceded, moving your hands away from your laptop.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Jaemin properly and he scooted closer with a warm smile. “You said it’s their first kiss, right?” he asked, recalling the brief context you gave him earlier.

You nodded. “Yeah…um. It’s supposed to start off slow and hesitant. But it becomes more passionate since the characters have been pining for each other practically forever.”

“Okay. Show me what you’re thinking, princess,” he said. Both the pet name and his soothing voice sent a shiver down your spine.

At first, you hesitated, before tentatively reaching out to take his hand, bringing it to your cheek. “Maybe it could start with him cupping her face like this,” you spoke in almost a whisper. “And then her hands could just be on his shoulders?”

Your initial unease wore off fairly quickly, and Jaemin felt his heart skip a beat as you continued to test different hand placements with him. He couldn’t help but find how your brows furrowed in concentration and the way you quietly mumbled to yourself, incredibly endearing.

“Then when things start to get more intense, his hands should go here,” you murmured, guiding his other hand to your waist. He suppressed a laugh, noticing how you were too focused to be flustered by the intimacy of the gesture.

Yet, as minutes passed without your lips coming in contact with his, Jaemin’s frustration simmered. He couldn’t stop his eyes from being drawn to your soft, pink lips. Though your touches remained innocent, they only made the temptation increasingly difficult to resist. Growing tired of waiting, he gave into the impulse and leaned into capture your lips with his own.

Immediately caught off guard, a soft gasp escaped you from the sudden kiss. You felt his hand on your back, pressing possessively, while his lips moved hungrily against yours. Midway into the kiss, you realize how unintentionally teasing you must have been when you were trying to work out the characters’ kiss in your mind. But before you could fully process what was happening, he pulled away. Seeing the light shade of red painted across your cheeks, Jaemin smiled in satisfaction.

“You need to know how the kiss feels so you can describe it in your story,” he reasoned, his voice teasing but earnest.

Despite being a blushy mess, you understood what he meant and smiled back. “You’re right. But I think we should do it again…you know, so I can be more prepared this time.”

Your words made his grin widen as your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips met yours in a passionate dance, the story temporarily forgotten. Jaemin pulled you closer, his fingers delicately tracing your jawline. He could taste a hint of lemon tea on your lips, and a smile formed as you lightly tugged at his hair. It took all his self-control not to get too carried away, savoring the moment while keeping his desire in check.

Even though Jaemin has kissed you dozens of times, each one reminded you of how insanely in love you were with one another. And in that moment, the characters and their story faded into the background, leaving only the warmth and connection between you two.

Na Jaemin was positive he could never get enough of you.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #jaemin #nct dream fluff #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #jaemin scenarios #nct #jaemin imagines #jaemin fluff

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freakshowtwopointoh · 7 months

Note

Hi!! Can I request jealous Jordan li where reader is spending a lot of time with someone else, maybe for a school project or something and Jordan notices and is like, nope, not happening, this one's mine bc they're so in love with reader and want all of the attention

Whew, that was a lot, haha,

Thank you!!!!

*not sure if u want established partners or situationship w feelings or something else, but i think imma go with situationship bc thats always the vibe for jordan lol if u want more established relationship lmk*

Debate club was a sensible extracurricular, and you had been doing it since your school stopped having model UN in 9th grade. It wasn't your favorite thing in the world, but you liked to argue, so it worked out. This week, you were arguing the "for" case with your teammate for the semester, Blake Mathers. He's a grating sophomore with floppy hair, and telekinesis powers you've only seen him use to enable his own laziness. The head of the club was nice enough, but he was insistent on "teamwork" when you'd much rather write alone. It was exhausting, trying to filter your thoughts and opinions, and allowing others to shine was not your style.

You try to pay attention to what Blake was saying about the topic, but all you were thinking about was Jordan Li. Ever since you made out at one of Dusty's infamous parties, they had invaded your senses and your thoughts. They'd catch you staring during class, or you'd wear a tiny skirt to a party, and you'd end up in a closet, or a car, or a bedroom, all limbs and heavy breathing.

"Um, hello? Did you hear me?" You shake your head.

"Sorry. Say that again?"

"The argument we wrote yesterday. It's gone - my computer got fucked." Ah, crap. This is the second time Blake's stupidity has made you re-do work. You'd done some research at the start of the week, and he'd forgotten to mention the topic had been changed. You sigh.

"Well, fuck. Alright, let's go back to the library then." You turn around and start walking, trying not to show your disappointment. You'd been hoping to "run into" Jordan at the JitterBean - hence the tight-ass skinny jeans.

Waste of an outfit, you think bitterly, pushing open the glass doors and setting up at the table that you and Blake had been using to do your assignments. Thankfully you'd saved your notes from yesterday, so you began reconstructing your argument while Blake screwed off.

You weren't paying much attention to what he was doing until you saw him fucking with Justine. Now there's some bullying you can get behind. You giggle, and watch as he makes another paper airplane fly around her head. She glares over at him and storms out, which makes you laugh out loud. The librarian glares, and you exchange a guilty look with Blake before getting back into writing.

The afternoon goes by easily after that. You were vaguely aware of other students milling about or studying nearby, but you were in the zone. Finally, at almost 8, the argument was done, and you saved it in multiple places just in case.

You wave goodbye to Blake, happy that the session went reasonably ok and the work was done. Saturday's debate was going to be a blast.

"Have fun on your little date with Mathers?" Jordan was leaning against the outside wall of the library, expression unreadable.

"Is the infamous Jordan Li jealous?" Their eyes harden slightly.

"Not jealous, just lookin out for you. He's a moron." They begin walking beside you, not acknowledging how unhinged they were behaving. Just looking out for you? If they weren't so damn hot, you might slap them. But the fact that they were asking meant.... something, right? You ignored how that made your heart swoop and just kept walking.

"We have debate club together, and he keeps fucking shit up, that's all." You say, in spite of yourself. If you were smarter, you'd let them wonder what you were doing with him. But you couldn't keep from looking at them, and feeling disappointed you can't make out any relief in their eyes. But then, their arm is snaked around your waist and their lips are at your ear.

"You wear those skin fucking tight jeans to just study with him?" You grit your teeth, forcing your mouth to not say what you wanted so desperately to say: 'No, I wore them for you, and you're clearly the idiot if you can't tell that I am so wrapped around your finger that I will dress up just in case I see you.' and just roll your eyes instead. They let their hand slide from your waist to your back pocket, daring you to stop them. And of course you don't. With every inch their hand travels, your heart skips another beat. When they squeeze your ass ever so slightly, a whimper sneaks out before you can stop it.

And with that, you're being pressed against a tree and their lips are on your neck.

"Fuck, J." You curse as their teeth sink into your skin.

"You're mine, baby. Only mine." They murmur in your ear.

"Always have been." You say back, almost moaning as they continue their assault on your neck. They pull away at this.

"Yeah? That why you're spending all your time with Mathers and co instead of me, in such," They pause to run their hands on your hips, pulling you tight against them. "delicious clothes."

"I thought you weren't jealous." You murmur, sliding your hand up their back. "But I wore these, and what's underneath, for you and you alone. He's just a moron who's forced me to re-do my work twice this week alone."

"Oh, you poor baby. Let me take you up and make everyone hear who really owns you." You barely hold back a moan as they drag you up to your dorm to fulfill their promise.

#jordan li #gen v #gen v prime #jordan li x reader #gen v smut #gen v fic #jordan li imagine #request #reqs open

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eddiernunson · 5 months

Text

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

| Master List | Prev Part | Next Part

Word Count: 16.9k

Chapter contains: Wedding shenanigans, smut, meeting Hawkins characters, smut, regular kinks, public sex, and lazy writing where i didn't even look up countries to travel to for honeymoons. Also...a haircut... (don't hate me)

I barely got this done in time, and it's also unedited. My editor says she can do it and we'll replace the rough copy lol.

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for always telling what they think and reading for it me first.

I just wanted to share some personal news. I'm 18 weeks pregnant, and I am always so fucking tired, so I apologize for posting a million things one week and nothing for months. The inspiration really comes and goes.

Anyways Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect your wedding to be so soon,” Skyler admits, in the middle of chewing on a salt and vinegar chip, some in her hand in queue to be chomped on next.

You keep your eyes on the movie playing snacking on a peanut M&M, watching Amanda Bynes’ truly unmatched comedic timing. “I am not spending a whole year of wedding planning,” you protest, throwing another chocolate into your mouth, “my mom is far too opinionated for me to be able to handle all of that fuss.”

“Well, you still need to find a dress…” Bethany points out, taking a hit off her vape pen. “And a caterer, someone to marry you, and a wedding photographer, decorate the venue—”

“We have invited close family and friends only.” You remind her, rolling her eyes. “If anything, the reception will turn into one big dance party. Hell, we’re ordering pizza. I don’t need a fairytale wedding. Having him has made my life a fairytale already.”

“Gross.” Skyler comments, sticking her tongue out at you playfully.

“I think it’s cute.” Bethany offers, grinning.

“Also, I might have already decided on a dress.” You hesitantly say, turning your head around and up at them to see their reactions. They collectively stop what they’re doing to scream at you for it. The gist of their uproar was mostly how they weren’t invited to the time you spent looking, but this dress was a happy accident by every definition.

“You found a dress?”

You shrug, pausing the movie so it’s not such a distraction for the conversation. “Yeah…”

The first time Eddie gave you his card and sent you to the mall for him, you were anxious about holding his money and only spent it on things he explicitly said he had wanted. The entire trip took about an hour, getting home and holding a few bags as you entered the front door. Eddie leapt from the couch, grinning wickedly as he met you in the kitchen. He held your hands as he smirked at you. “How was the shopping trip?”

“Good.” You answered, moving to your purse on the counter to hand him his card.

He put it in his wallet hurriedly, wanting to get back to you. “What’d you get?” He asks, starting to look through the bags.

“I found everything you asked for except for the socks, apparently they’re discontinued.” You answered, leaning onto the island counter.

Eddie’s face falters only the littlest bit, shrugging. “Damn, gonna have to find a new favourite pair then.” He looked through every bag one by one, seemingly looking for something he couldn’t find. “What’d you get?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “Um, everything but the socks?”

Eddie’s face broke into laughter, hands snaking themselves around your waist. “Yes, baby, but what did you get for yourself?” His voice was so gentle, smiling at you fondly with a gorgeous lobsided smile on his face.

“Oh, um, nothing…” you answered, eyes flickering to the ground. “It’s your money.”

A hand made its way onto your cheek, intertwining his fingers in your hair. His lips landed on yours, taking your breath away with how dreamy and dizzy it made you feel. As he pulled apart, your knees were weak, mouth half open as you stared up at him in pure bewilderment. After you were able to catch your breath, you finally asked, “What was that about?”

He smiled at you tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re just so sweet, my love,” he muses, beautiful brown eyes roaming all over your face. “Sweetheart, you have a ring on your finger. If we’re about to get married, then my money is your money.”

A frown sat on your face, thinking over what he just told you, eyes fleeting all over his hardwood floor. “But…I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want—”

He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your chin to look up at him. “I know you don’t want it.” His other hooked around your back, pulling your body against his. “However, I do want to share it with you, just like I want to share everything else.”

You smiled at him, sighing as his hand caressed the swell of your cheek, leaning into it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m with you for any other reason than how much I love you.”

“And how hot you find me, hmm?” He teased, eyes half lidded.

You rolled your eyes playfully, hands petting the nape of his neck. “Of course.” Eddie gave you a big kiss, lips wrapping yours, making you feel only bliss. “So, if I take your card to Sephora and buy a palette I’d had my eye on, you wouldn’t protest?”

Eddie sighed, sticking his tongue out in his true fashion. “You could buy the whole damn store as long as you’re happy.”

You squinted at him, lips pursed as you assessed his gorgeous face. “…How much do you have in savings?”

He smiled, tilting his head playfully. “Enough.” He said, tilting his head and twisting his face comically. “Maybe not enough to buy the whole store, but enough to shop comfortably.”

With his blessing, you started to feel something like trophy wife on the occasional mall trip. Holding his black card as you swipe it unflinchingly at a large bill is so satisfactory as you see the glint of jealousy of the cashier’s eyes.

On your most recent outing, grabbing groceries and making stops at your favourite stores as you browsed, a little boutique in the corner of the mall caught your eye. You’ve never seen it before, a deserted area of the mall that has incredibly niche stores that mostly look like a storefront for a ring of some type. In the very corner is a sweet little boutique with hand made clothes, the kind of clothing one doesn’t come across very often anymore, all made with care with high quality fabric…but not at a designer price.

A dress with embroidered flowers around the skirt caught your eye in the window, and there were only cuter clothes. With several hangers of clothing on your hand, the corner the store comes into view, and the prettiest white dress you’ve ever seen came into view.

As soon as your size was in your grasp, you giddily ran off to the change room. As soon as the zipper is up, your eyes welled up in bridal glory.

All for 85 dollars. (Well, that’s not the whole bill, just the dress.)

Your eyes flicker back to your friends, shrugging. “It just happened.”

“How far is Hawkins, exactly?” Bethany asks, leaning on her elbow on her legs crossed.

“A few states away.” You answer, pressing play on the movie again.

“You’re only inviting close family, right?” Skyler asks.

“Yeah, and you guys and Steve’s family.”

Bethany tilts upside down on the couch, feet resting on the pillows as she watches the movie upside down. “I’m sorry, who’s Steve again?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you guys ever listen to what I say?” They shrug, looking at you expectantly. “He’s Eddie’s best friend.” Still, their looks are completely blank. “You remember the photo I showed you of Eddie? He was the one on the left.”

Their eyes both noticeably bug out of their sockets. “Oh, you lucky bitch.” Skyler chuckles, definitely remembering the one of the left.

You roll your eyes, again. “He’s happily married, you dicks.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it” Bethany accuses, knowing you too well, if you had anything to say about it.

The hesitation says everything. “Okay, maybe once or twice.” You admit, avoiding their eyes. “But again, he is happily married, and frankly unrealistic. Plus, he might be my sister’s father-in-law,” you joke, mostly hoping there’s no truth behind it.

“Okay, this I gotta hear.” Bethany giggles, leaning in with much intrigue.

Hours later into the evening, your friends are taken off to their prospective life commitments. The living room is tidied up and the tv turned on to some background noise as you doom-scroll on your phone. Right on time, the front door to the house slams shut.

His hot breath and sweet kisses on your neck feels like home, titling your neck and humming happily as his arms wrap around your torso from behind the couch. “Hi, baby.”

“Hello, my love.” He greets. Your hand lands on his hair, petting his curls. “I gotta take a shower, then I’ll be right back.”

He bends your head on the back, giving you a deliciously upside down kiss. “Hurry fast.”

A usual shower for him doesn’t take too long, usually sporting sweats and a band tee as he comes back down the stairs twenty minutes later.

It’s only thirty minutes when your patience completely runs out, hopping up the stairs wondering if he fell asleep. He’s not in the room, or the bathroom, so you finally find him in the closet, squatting while he grabs something from one of the low storage shelves.

“Hey, Eddie—”

You forget the English language. Every word you’ve ever known is gone from your brain, nowhere to be seen. He uses his elbows to lean on his thighs, perched on his toes and smiles at your speechlessness.

“Surprised?” He asks, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You stare up at it, hand petting his scalp. “What did you do?”

He shrugs, spinning his hands in circles in his hair. “Needed a change.”

“That…that’s a big change.” You comment, noting the way his face looks without his hair framing it.

He grins, hand caressing your face sweetly. “What do you think?”

You wonder how you missed the razor with a hair clip on the counter. “I think we might have a problem…”

The panic in his eyes is subtle, but there. Clearly, he’s never had someone who loved him for him, and you’re excited to see his reaction. “Oh?” Eddie asks, doing his best to appear casual.

You smile, admiring the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck, even buzzed all the way to his scalp. “What the hell am I going to hold onto while you go down on me?” You ask, playfully scolding him.

He laughs, his face crumbling in relief. “We’ll figure it out, sweets.” He tugs you into his arms, arms gorgeously tough as he hugs you intensely. “Not the first time I’ve cut my hair, you know.” Eddie tells you, squatting back down to grab what he needed.

You’re honestly unsure if you’ve ever seen a picture of him with short hair, but then again, his social media doesn’t have many pictures of him. “Oh?”

Eddie grabs what he needed successfully, taking off into your shared bathroom. “Yeah, last time was when Dyl was like eight, or something.” Eddie answers, cleaning up the last strands of hair from the counter. How did you miss those?

“Needed a change, then, too?” You ask, now seeing where he placed his shed locks, the damn garbage.

Eddie tucks his lips in, tongue poking out between his lips. “Uh, not exactly.” He starts, hesitating. “Brooke sort of…demanded? I guess? That I cut my hair when long hair was apparently not really cool anymore.” He laughs, putting the razor away. “She wouldn’t let it go.”

Anger is useless, at this point, knowing that dumb bitch was just plain horrible to him. It still stings to know he had to deal with her, regardless. “She seems so lovely.”

Eddie laughs, taking your hand in his as he led you back out the bedroom and back down the stairs. “This time, at least I did it for myself.”

“I can’t lie,” you start, sitting nearly on his lap on the couch. “I will miss it, and our kids will be shocked when they see their dad had short hair in our wedding photos…but it’s hair. It grows back. I will always accept you for who you are, baby.”

Eddie doesn’t know which part to focus on more. He hopes you never fail to make him feel so loved, and honestly, he doubts you ever possibly could. But for the moment he focuses on the first part. “Our kids huh?” He asks as you lean back comfortably against his chest.

“Oh, hush, you know what I want from you.” You rebuke, smiling satisfied as you watch whatever is on TV.

His arm wrapped around you pulls you impossibly closer to him, still expecting the itch of his hair on your neck. “I know, my love. I want the same thing.”

“You get any calls for RSVPs, yet baby?” You ask, sighing happily.

“Steve called, everyone’ll be there, of course.” Eddie answers, grabbing the remote to switch channels.

“Oh, cool, I can’t wait to meet Jocelyn.” You say, still not having met his wife.

“I thought you’d be more excited to meet Eliza.”

“Oh, her, too.” You laugh, nodding. “She will be the cutest flower girl ever.”

Eddie kisses the top of your head, sighing happily as his cheek rests on it. “That, she will be.”

Eddie’s hands are intertwined with yours as he flies down the major highway, music blasting through his speakers as the wind sends your hair flying from the open windows. The prospect of flying versus driving to Hawkins was debated for a hot minute, but a long road trip with him was just too good to pass up. Several bags are in the back seat, packed for both the four days you’re spending in Hawkins, and the three weeks for the honeymoon.

He surprised you with a His and Hers matching set of bags, mouth quirked in a smile as he saw the embarrassment take over your face. He knew how excited you were to go take a trip to Cancun with him as newlyweds, and he did his best to make it clear the feeling is mutual.

But before you can take off on a flight with him, comes getting married.

Both your dress and his suit are in garment bags, something you’re all too thrilled for him to see, the prospect of him on the other side of the aisle filling you with a level anticipation you didn’t know was possible.

The trip is long, and you wonder how Steve was able to make it to your parents’ in such short notice, noting you’ll need to extend more gratitude to him. You had offered to drive, but Eddie had repeatedly denied you, insisting you’re his queen, and he planned on treating you like one.

What was that you had said earlier about living a fairy tale?

As you pulled into the small town, Eddie texts a few of his friends to let him know you had arrived safely. He pulls up to the one gas station in town, stretching his back out, walking into the convenient store to pay and take a leak.

When he comes back out of the station there’s an aura of amusement on his face, shaking his head. You meet him at the pump, eyebrow quirked to ask him what he was so smug about.

“He’s still alive.” Eddie chuckles as he puts the pump to start filling it up. He laughs again when your face twists into even more confusion. “Gus, the owner from when I was in high school, he’s still kickin’, and he’s still running the joint.” He pauses, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Probably out of pure spite, if anything.”

You kiss his cheek, petting at the curls now swirling in his hair. You still missed the length, but he looked good with short curls. “Wonder who else has surpassed those expectations.”

His eyes widen at the idea. “If Higgins is still principal…”

You smirk, having several stories about Higgins undeserved vendetta he held against Eddie, having once blackmailed him into dripping out. “God help the youth of Hawkins, Indiana.”

“I don’t blame Arlo for any of his sass in that case.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a text from your mother that she, Viti, your dad, and her had successfully landed in Indianapolis and are currently grabbing their rental. Thank god your mom is acting like a mother again after her brief mental psychosis.

For the first day in town, Eddie has a whole plan for you, refusing to tell you what he had planned. First, was the singular old folks’ home Hawkins hosted. The receptionist immediately recognizes Eddie, flickering to you with a twinkle in her eye. “Is this?” She asks, pointing to you covertly.

“Sure is.” He answers. “How is he?”

“Very excited.” She answers, placing a pen and paper on the counter in front of you. Eddie signs his name, and hands the pen for you to do the same. “Same room as always.”

Confused, you follow his lead down the hall the opposite way from the rec room where a group of elderly individuals were playing bingo. He’s petting your thumb with his, his eyes flickering between your eyes and the ground.

Is he nervous?

He finally stops at the door second to last on the left, labelled with the number 18. Three knocks on the door and there’s a gruff voice on the other side telling you to come on in. Eddie takes a deep breath and opens it, slowly walking into the room.

The door opens to an older, much older, man with a very thin patch of hair on his head facing the other direction, hands shuffling over a faded deck of cards, slowly categorizing them, supposedly a game of solitaire. Eddie lets go of your hand to approach him from behind, playfully humming, moving one of the cards over the old man’s shoulder. “There ya go.” Eddie says, gentle and smug.

“Christ, you always knew how to beat me.” He mutters, shaking his head. He lifts it to face Eddie, smiling ear to ear as he stands up slowly, relying on the table in front of him for stability. “Bout time you came back to town,” he jokes, tugging Eddie in for a hug.

You can see Eddie’s smile over his shoulder, observing the way Eddie relaxes in his hold. Eddie’s hands on his back are firm, gripping onto him for dear life. You’ve heard stories, only had an idea of how much his guardian meant to him, but from just the looks of this hug, it’s the kind of affection you suppose could only a parent could provide him.

Times like these you wished you knew him when he was younger, just to see more of these vulnerable moments.

Not that you want to cut their reunion short, but you need to get this introduction out of the way because it was the one you’re most nervous about. You clear your throat subtly, only to get their attention. Eddie’s eye’s abruptly open, meeting yours apologetically. “Sorry, sweets.” He says, pulling away from the hug. “Uh, Wayne this is—”

Wayne, the man who has picked up the slack from his deadbeat brother and runaway sister-in-law, turns to face you, smile on his face as he abruptly wraps you in his arms for a hug. “I don’t need an introduction to the woman who brought my son back to life.” He insists, squeezing you tight. You want to feel cocky about this statement, but all you can do is smile into his shoulder. It’s impossible that the affect you have on one another is the same, a lust for life you’ve never have before now ever present, looking forward to the future knowing that you’ll have him for as long as humanly possible.

It's just nice to hear from those who have known him his whole life.

Wayne finally lets you go, the smile lines ever present as he grins at you. “Well, I suppose you two still have a lot of work to do before Saturday, huh?”

You look at Eddie, shrugging in sync. The only thing there really is to do is set a few tables up for the reception and pick up some flowers from the local florist. A small wedding means little to do, especially with good friends in town insisting on helping tie the final pieces together.

“This one isn’t a bridezilla, is she?” Wayne jokes, winking at Eddie’s exasperated eyeroll.

“She could stand to be a bit more decisive, to be honest.” Eddie laughs, a lobsided smile.

To be fair, you just wanted to marry him, it really didn’t matter how the tables are laid out at the reception, or where you take the photos. He could’ve taken you to a courthouse and you would’ve been satisfied, but there is something so enticing about announcing to your close friends and family how much you love and plan to spend all your days with him.

Wayne and Eddie talk, Wayne telling the embarrassing stories you’ve been begging Steve to tell you, yet with no success. The pink blush on Eddie’s face is adorable, watching as he hopelessly protests the stories, but Wayne seems to be the only person out there who doesn’t get intimidated by Eddie’s stern voice. You wonder if the temptation to give the same energy next time you’re being berated by him will be too much to ignore.

Your favourite story that Wayne told you was the one where he was ten years old and attempted to mix his love of hard Metal and Dungeons and Dragons and turned on the song only to forget he had it turned all the way up the day before.

It resulted in snacks everywhere and one of his favourite figurines crashed as he stumbled across the room to try to turn his stereo down. Wayne even had some photos he keeps in a box on his dresser, handing one by one. The best set of photos were Eddie growing his hair, going from a kid with a buzz cut in the halls of a school displaying a rock signal to the camera to a jaded teenager refusing to smile for it.

Yeah, if you knew Eddie in high school you would’ve been down bad.

Eventually, Eddie stops protesting at the stories and just ends up defending the actions of a hormone-driven seventeen-year-old.

“You’re not expecting me to wear a suit, are you?” Wayne squints, leaning back onto the desk.

“Just wear something nice, will ya?” Eddie asks, an aura of affection for his lifelong guardian.

“Yeah, yeah.” Wayne dismisses him.

The nurse is sweet as you and Eddie sign out, Eddie requesting that they get him out of his room to socialize for once. She laughs, insisting that they do his best to get him out, but he is stubborn as he is old. Judging from his silver hair and the vibrant blue veins showing from his paper-thin skin, you can see where Eddie gets a lot of his personality from.

Eddie’s a silent sort of content as he drives down the main street, thumb caressing your hand with purpose and ease. He makes a turn, slowing at the end of the street at a sweet little yellow house. “Where you bringing us this time?”

“Still not telling.”

The front door opens to a woman with short curly hair, crossing her arms as soon as she sees who is on her front step. “Was wondering when you’d stop by.” She says, waving her hands to invite you in. “Come on in, Robin is over for the afternoon.”

“Hi, Wheeler.” Eddie greets her, tugging you in with him.

Oh, Nancy. You’ve heard little about her, only that her determination is scary.

“Yeah, come on in, you groomer.” Comes another voice, a little rough on the edges but said with love.

“Groomer?” Eddie asks, eyebrow tilting.

“You’re lucky that’s all I’m calling you.” Robin, sitting at a table with a cup of tea, playfully shoots back. “Marrying a girl half your age.”

“And like I’ve said on the phone, she’s been making as many of the decisions I have.” Eddie says, sounding tired. “Anyway, this is Robin, that’s Nancy.”

They toast their cups to you, observing how you and Eddie are with each other, his hand around your shoulders and your hand easily intertwined with his.

“They’re uh, they keep me in check.” Eddie laughs, gesturing to them.

“You cut your hair.” Nancy states, a smirk on her face. “Haven’t seen that in a few years.”

“Whatever, do you want to tell her or not?”

Turns out, Nancy and Robin been communicating and texting Bethany and Skyler for ideas on a bachelorette party for you. Your eyes are full of fear as you glance to them full of fear, scared of what they had planned.

Those eyes were a little too smug for comfort. “You haven’t told her anything about the uh… U.D, have you?” Robin asks softly as Nancy shows you a photo album as the friend group from years back. What a friend group to be in back in their heyday.

“Not quite yet.” Eddie shrugs, wondering how is it those faded memories can come back so quickly just because he’s in town.

“You ever plan to?”

“Probably. Won’t wait too long so she doesn’t think I’m senile.” Eddie jokes, but it falls flat.

“I think she can handle it.” Robin admits, now having spent a few hours with you. “Maybe skip the part where your heart stopped.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Probably.”

Eddie has made several more stops throughout the day, introducing the many colourful characters that flooded his hometown. Felt like right out of a storybook.

The one you most got along with turned out to be Dustin Henderson, the very same one who Steve’s third son is named after. Just from your first conversation surrounded by their goofiness, do you truly understand how dorky, how dramatic he really is. Dustin does have stories to tell you, less embarrassing, more dripped in his dramatic flair for life.

Dustin checks on the habits he still carries, does he still fidget with his fingers, does he tuck in his lips, has his patience gotten better.

Correction, Dustin is one other person you suppose Eddie can’t intimidate. You’ve seen many attempts only met with laughter. “Steve has a bachelor party planned for you, you know.”

You shoot Dustin a glare, charging on him. “There won’t be any strippers, right?”

Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops when you shoot a glare at him, giving you a meek smile. You fucking thought so.

“Don’t worry, Harrington has a death wish, but not that badly. It’s a meticulously planned out campaign.” Dustin chuckles elbowing you. “A few drinking games involved, but no models in bikinis.”

Suddenly Eddie’s in your ear, breath sending shivers down your body. “If you were to show up in a bikini, I wouldn’t protest.” Eddie whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Tempting, but I think I’ll wait until Cancun.” You answer, grinning cheekily at his widened eyes.

Eddie gets a text that night when you’re in the hotel room with him where the reception was to take place. Most of the wedding was completely figured out, the two of you are ready for a night in before the rush sets in for tomorrow, cuddled up under the blanket as he reluctantly watches one of your favourite romcoms.

His hand pets on your bare thigh, slowly making its way up, smirking at the way you tense under his touch, whimpering as you impatiently wait for him to finally touch you. His fingers finally, finally brushing under your panties and just seeing how wet you are when Eddie’s phone vibrates on the bed. “Don’t you dare.” You protest, clutching in his shirt.

“You’re not in any position to be making demands.” He chuckles, sliding to answer his phone.

You huff, head banging against the head rest.

“Make it fast, Harrington.” Eddie answers. You start to pay more attentive attention to the movie when his hand slips back under your panties. His finger moves easily along your folds, slowly working you. Eddie mutes his phone, “Be fucking quiet, got it?” You nod, forcefully taking a pillow and biting down on it. “Sorry, bud, what was that?”

Eddie listens, face crumbling in annoyance. “And we don’t get any say in this?” He asks, inserting his finger bast the barrier of your entrance. “Yeah, we’ll be an hour.”

Eddie hooks his finger, eyes raking down your body as your back arches in attempt to keep quiet.

“Because you caught us in the middle of something, Stevie.” He laughs starting to speed up. Something Steve says tugs a beautiful sound of laughter from his lips, hanging up and tossing the phone. “Take your panties off, we have an hour.”

You throw the pillow across the room, grinning as you take your panties and the shirt you’re wearing off.

When he slides into you, perfect and relentless, the words he whispers in your ear are how he can’t wait to marry you, how much he wants to see his girl in a pretty white dress just for him, and what a pretty girl he has.

The only words that leave your throat are about how much you love him, on repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you, Iloveyou.

Stubbornly, Steve demanded two of you made your way over as soon as possible. Eddie agrees, but really wishes he could stay with you when he sees the blissed-out expression you wear in the afterglow. Damn him.

You reluctantly go with him, half asleep as your head rests his shoulders when Steve finally opens the door. “Finally, you sluts!” Steve laughs, hand in his front pocket as he opens the door with the gusto only Steve Harrington really can. “Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time you get a haircut.”

You glare at him, rolling your eyes. “If we came all this way just for this, then I will see you tomorrow, Steve.”

“She has a point.” Eddie agrees, also ready to go back to the room and forget you were asked.

“Chill out you two.” Steve insists, “c’mon.”

Well, Steve is one hell of a schemer, because as soon as you reach the living room everyone (and then some) jumps out from their hiding places, a big ass surprise party.

Like the two of you weren’t already having a big party in two days, but this is a large reminder of how loved you are.

This thankfully gave you a chance to mingle with the rest of the Harringtons, Eliza regretfully already asleep upstairs. Immediately, you see the connection between Nicky and Dylan and how much they get along far more than Dylan ever did with Arlo.

Arlo and Viti are mingling a little too close for comfort, her back leaning against the counter as his hand is placed right next to her, nodding as what ever she says is apparently agreeable. Whatever Arlo is planning, he’d better stop that shit.

Jocelyn Harrington is the perfect ying to Steve’s yang, perfectly balancing out his chaotic personality and keeping him in check only the way she can. You ask her to keep an eye out for Arlo, something she promises that she’s tried to do many times in the past, in fact, this his him tamed.

You finally learn who you’ve hired to take the wedding photos, a boy you’ve only spoken to over the phone from Steve’s recommendation. He’s…Nancy’s, ex’s, son, Jeremy Byers, who has apparently picked up his dad’s hobby in photography and, like his father, turned it into something that can pay the bills. His dad is freakishly just like him, sweet and unassuming. What is it with genes in this town? Everyone just copies and pastes.

Somehow, Steve managed to get your parents to show up, somehow finally warming up to Eddie. Still, she’s on thin ice for ever having insulted him to begin with. Apparently, Nancy does remember your mom, having been on the newspaper with her.

Your mom was on the newspaper?

The night is spent laughing in Steve’s massive living room, the air filled with anticipation and pure excitement, actually glad you were forced out of bed. The doorbell rings, opening to face your two best friends as they squeal and wrap you in a hug and everything is right in the world.

Maybe your mom could stop flirting with Steve, though.

Finally, you stumbled into the Hotel room at 3am, giggling together as he falls on the bed on top of you. His hand snakes his way under your skirt, tugging them down fast, the sound of him undoing his belt driving you crazy as you giddily and hurriedly help him with his shirt. He’s been teasing you all night, his lush lips wrapping yours and wandering hands making you want to pull him into one of the bathrooms.

The pure want in you right now when you know you’re about to make Eddie your husband is coursing through your body is excessive. There’s a looming question, will you be able to hold back during your wedding? Answer is a definite no, but you’re trying to trick yourself into believing that you will.

His bare skin against yours as he ruts against you is everything, yet even after every orgasm you want more, crave more of him more than you ever thought was possible. You’re extra greedy that night, holding him closer, begging him for more, more, more. His words are a sweet mixture of worship, praise, and just a little bit of degradation. My girl, my sweet love, taking me so well, your sweet cunt, greedy little slut.

You fall asleep with your legs wrapped around his waist, sleepily exchanging sweet nothings in one another’s ear, the rest of the world dissolved completely.

The vibrations of your phone don’t wake you up, but it certainly alerts you to the following vibrations of Eddie’s. The phones didn’t even make it to your chargers, sitting in the mess of clothing on the carpeted hotel floor. Eddie’s body is partially on yours, wrapped in his musk as you stretch, taking in the reflection of the sun on the roof. “Eddie.” You moan, stretching your limbs as you attempt to reach off the king-sized bed. “Phone.”

Another phone is buzzing, somebody clearly relentless in their effort to get a hold of you. Eddie hums, head twisting only the littlest bit in your neck. “Too…too bad.” You slowly crawl out of his hold, rolling towards the scattered pile of clothing. Just when you think you’re successful, Eddie’s strong bicep effortlessly pulls you back, tightening his grip on you. “Stay.”

The sound erupts again. “You don’t think that could be important?” You ask, finger gently trailing along the skin of his back.

His shoulders shrug, lips starting to trail kisses along your neck. “Don’t care.” He mumbles, hands moving across your skin. You can feel his enthusiasm against your leg, tugging him down against you. “Waking up to your beautiful face, gorgeous fucking body, you think I care about anything else?”

When he puts it like that, you suppose you really can’t say no to him, especially when his voice is luring you in like so. You hum, starting to see his point as the buzzing fades into the background. “Then get to it, will ya?” You ask him, hands intertwined in his short curls. As he pushes himself up on his hands, his eyes meet yours, grinning cheekily.

“Get to it, you say?” He asks, hands tugging on your hips your body meets his perfectly. “Somehow last night still left me unsatisfied.” He pushes into you slowly, not giving you any warning or bothering to prep you. As assumed, the slick from last night remains ever present along your folds, allowing Eddie to push in effortlessly. Your mouth opens wordlessly, meeting his eyes and drinking in the pure lust in them. “This pussy baby, you’re telling me I get this for the rest of my life? Am I that lucky?”

As always, he’s crazy to believe he’s the lucky one. “Whenever you want, Ed,” you tell him, fingers clawing up his back and mewling. “Faster, please, please, baby.”

“Pretty voice beggin for me.” Eddie mutters, still granting the wish. “Think your pussy can take more of daddy’s cum?” He asks, hands intertwined in your hair and thrusting harshly. “Thought I already filled it a bit last night.”

“Never enough, Ed.” You gasp, pulling his lips on yours. They’re lush and sweet, but the kiss turns dirty as his hands press harshly and fiercely. “Can never…never get enough.”

Eddie chuckles, curling himself into your neck. “You keep saying shit like this to me and I will never let you leave this room.” His hands slide themselves down to your wrists, sitting up as he pulls your arms down your torso. This position hits a new angle, the pleasure hitting a deeper spot than you knew possible.

“Who said I want to leave?” You laugh, his grip on your wrists tight enough to bruise.

Your legs wrangle themselves against his chest, feet flexing next to Eddie’s face, watching his half open mouth and gorgeous face. “Just what I wanted to hear, sweets.”

His hips are beautifully relentless, eventually turning you around in his grasp, your face hitting the pillow as his hips start impossibly faster. His hand grips itself in your hair, pulling your back against his chest, snaking from your hair back around your neck. “Listen to those sounds you make, love, so desperate for me.”

“What a pretty girl, taking my cock so fucking well.” His other hand clings itself onto your clit, circling it as his hot breaths gasp against your neck. “Feel that sweet pussy dripping all over me, you close, babygirl?”

“So close, Daddy.” You whine, neck stretching impossibly high as the pull in your stomach is strong and intense. His fingers move faster, driving you towards that high more and more. “Oh, my god, Ed.”

Your pussy flutters around him, eyes twitching shut and whining in his hold as his hips never let up. As you just start to come down from it, there’s a loud knock on the door. You fall forward, whining as Eddie doesn’t let up. The knock comes again, faster and louder this time. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind them, and frankly, neither do you, listening to him as his groans grow deeper and longer, reaching backward frantically for his hands. “Gonna fill you up, love.”

The knocks are now rapid, never ending and stubborn.

“One fucking minute!” Eddie yells, voice harsh and aggravated.

Now the voice that’s been shouting is clear who it is, Steve apparently having no patience as he shouts in anger.

You feel him rut a final time, bending over you as he gasps desperately into your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Hurry up, I’ve been calling you guys for an hour!” He yells, you can practically hear his hands placed on his hips.

“You want me to open the door naked?” Eddie asks, grabbing the pair of pants he tossed onto the ground last night.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Steve asks, a hint amusement in his voice.

Eddie opens the door, rolling his eyes as he leads him in. You lie under the covers, not caring about the lack of clothing you wear. “What?”

“Oh lord.” Steve grunts once he sees your relaxed posture on the bed, scrolling through your phone.

“I’m sorry, did you not know what you were walking in on? Your ears have mysteriously vanished from your head?” You ask, a half smirk placed on your face at his hand exaggeratedly hiding you with his hand.

“I at least figured you’d have clothes on,” Steve grumbles back, crossing his arms. “I’ve been calling you two for the last hour, we have shit to do before the parties tonight.”

“Parties?” Eddie asks, slipping his shirt on.

“Yes, parties. Hurry, you two.” Steve demands, clapping his hands repeatedly. You stare up at him blankly, still half paying attention to the videos on your phone. “Well?”

You blink at him, stunned. Wasn’t this wedding supposed to be easy? “Get out!” Point angrily to the door of the room.

“I want you two in the lobby in five minutes. We got shit to do.” Steve demands, letting the hotel door slam behind him.

You glance to your fiancé, leaning on your elbow cheekily. “Wanna fuck me again?”

To be honest, Eddie’s jeans were back around his ankles before you even finished the sentence.

The feeling of shamelessness as the elevator opens to the lobby fifteen minutes later is refreshing, sporting kiss bruised lips and tussled hair as you cheekily greet him.

Steve looks tired, sitting in a chair in the lobby scrolling through his phone leaning on one elbow. “I should’ve known way better.”

Admittedly, Steve was right. Despite the size of your wedding there was still a stupid amount to do before the Wedding takes place the next day. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably would’ve stayed in bed all day until the realization kicks in. Maybe being as much in love with Eddie as you are is both your saving grace and your downfall.

Steve acts like a wedding planner. You thought your mom is bad, turns out she’s got nothing on Steve Harrington with a goal and a vision.

Flowers picked up, hair stylist and makeup artist booked, the church confirmed, all the t’s crossed and the I’s dotted.

When you’re sitting with Eddie and Steve on the living room couch at the early evening, Jocelyn opens the door, walking in with her daughter running in like a little tornado, her little curls bouncing with every step. Her voice is to the brim with giggles, running up to Steve with glee.

“Daddy!” She yells, hopping into his arms as he catches her effortlessly. Eliza is somehow even cuter in person than she is in any photo you’ve ever seen of her.

Steve hugs her tightly, petting her back like the gentle parent he is. “You see who’s here, yet, Liz?” He asks, nodding towards Eddie and you.

Eliza abruptly leaves his hold, switching her bright green eyes to Eddie. “Uncle Eddie?” She jumps straight for him, forcing the one arm behind you to wrap around her.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He greets, your eyes meeting his over her shoulder. Seeing him talk about her animatedly is one thing, but watching him melt as soon as she’s in his grasp sets your ovaries on fire. “Are you excited to be a flower girl for us?”

Her eyes flicker to yours, shyly smiling, as if remembering there was someone for her uncle Eddie to get married to. “That’s the lady?”

He laughs, hearts in his eyes never leaving as he glances over. “Yep.”

Eliza looks back to him ‘whispering’ in his ear, “She’s pretty.”

Eddie chuckles and places his hand by her ear, pretending to whisper back, “I know, it’s why I’m marrying her.”

The glare you want to give him is drowned out by the warmth that floods your entire body. “You two sharing secrets over there?” You squint your eye, pretending to be suspicious of them.

Eliza giggles, hiding in her hands. “No!”

“Then why are you whispering?” You demand, leaning in.

“We’re not!” Eliza giggles, kicking her feet as she tumbles off the couch.

“If you’re lying, I think a monster is going to come chase you,” you warn her, shaking your head exasperatedly.

Her eyes go bug wide, scared only as a four-year-old can be of a monster coming after her. “N-no, we weren’t whispering!”

You nod at her, smirking at Eddie, hoping it gets the point across. “Uh, oh, Eliza, I see a monster!”

Eddie catches on, dramatically crouching as he bares his teeth and pretends to growl. As soon as she hears it, she squeals, little footsteps taking off into the next room. You watch him run after her, suddenly completely forgetting that it wasn’t his idea to begin with.

How the hell have you just managed to fall for him even harder, you’ll never know. Maybe you want more than one with him.

You sit back comfortably on your chair, feeling completely relaxed from the sounds of their footsteps and giggles alone. Your head feels heavy falling over and suddenly facing Steve’s eyes already dead set on you. You’re startled out of your daze, head perking up quickly and hurriedly. “What?” Steve’s eyes flash up and down, making you feel a tad self conscious. “What?”

“What was that?” Steve asks, nodding towards where Eddie and Eliza are still running around, making loops around the house.

You shrug. “Just playing with your four year old?”

Steve tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. “When you two have kids, I think the world needs to watch out.”

“Kids?” You ask exasperated. “Who said anything about that?”

“You did. And him. And I know you’ve at least talked about it.” Steve answers, unwavering conviction in his voice. You’re speechless, playing with your nails as you avoid his eyes. “Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought.”

Once Eliza is put to sleep, you’re comfortably on Eddie’s lap as a knock on the door echoes through the house. Jocelyn gives a smirk as she opens the door, and a parade of shouts bursts through the door. The group of men that burst through it are all loud and jeering, their smiles too wide as their hands grab at the man beneath you, picking him up by any body part they can grab. He’s promptly lifted over their heads, all of them ignoring his shouts in protest and threats to dismember them if they don’t let go of him.

Not that you’re mad at Steve for throwing Eddie’s bachelor party onto him, just the opposite. A warning that the next time you’d be seeing him was at the altar would’ve been nice, though. You heard him shouting from the basement, a mixture of glee and anger. Steve gets up from the couch, making his way towards the door to the stairs.

You rush before he goes, blocking the way to the stairs. “Take care of him, won’t you?”

“I promise no lap dances from any of the strippers,” he vows, his face smirking at the glare that lands. “I’m kidding! It’s just drunk D&D, no strippers involved, I promise!”

You hit him on his shoulder, just a little done with his bullshit. “Better not be.”

“I mean if he starts stripping when we get to the tequila, I make no promises on stopping him.”

You stop Jocelyn who is just passing by. “You sure they’re over each other?”

She shrugs, knowing exactly what you mean from 25 years of dealing with the two of them. “Jury’s out on that one, I’m afraid,” she winks, petting Steve’s confused face.

“Make sure he gets there tomorrow on time,” you nod, patting his arm condescendingly.

“Right, a church in St. Louisville, right?” He asks. You hit him again, harsher. “Oh my god, sometimes you are so easy to piss off.”

You shoot one last glare. “For the moment, I think I have the right to be, you know? Sort of need him there on the other side of that aisle.”

“He’ll be there, he might be a bit hungover, but he’ll be there.”

“Alright. Now go downstairs, Harrington.” Steve startles you by tugging you into a hug, taking a moment in stunned silence before returning it. “Make sure he has fun.”

You sit down on the couch, listening to the crowd of men cheer as Steve finally gets to the bottom of the steps. Your head just hits the pillow on the couch when Jocelyn’s elbows land next to your hair, wearing a smirk you swear you’ve seen on Arlo before.

“Oh, you think you’re in the clear?” She asks, assessing the look on your face. “Come on in, ladies!”

Somehow when Eddie was picked up, you completely missed how there was a whole different group who followed in, sneaking their way into the kitchen. Now the very same ladies who organized the bachelorette party rushed in, grabbing your hands up from the couch as they all squeal in glee. You didn’t know where to look or what to say, surrounded by doting hands, both friends of yours and Eddie’s alike.

“Here,” no one in particular passes you a pretty dress, something you didn’t even pack for yourself. “Put this on, we’re going on a night out!”

“In Hawkins?” You ask, aware of the single dive bar that Eddie spent his nights working at.

They all let out a chorus of “no”, all explaining simultaneously that they rented a party bus and you’ll be travelling to the closest city that has one more than only one bar.

A tight dress, makeup that only other’s hands have put on you and a bit of pregaming, strobe lights are bumping and the bass is loud in while you’re surrounded by all of the hens. You’re extra surprised Nancy and Robin have also joined in on the fun, Robin’s voice scratchy in the speakers as she sings into the karaoke microphone. Your little sister is extra giddy that she was invited to join, too deep with number the drinks she’s already had.

You’re just glad she’s not with Arlo for the night.

To catch your breath about halfway into the trip you sit down, everyone following your lead with beads of sweat on their foreheads. The music is turned down eventually, all eyes on you.

“So, are you excited?” Skyler asks, poking your hip right next to you.

You nod shyly, a big smile taking over your face. “Of course!”

“Okay, so I just have to know, what’s the craziest thing you guys have ever done?” Bethany abruptly asks on the other side of you.

Your face twists into confusion, giving every pair of eyes staring at you exactly what was going on in your brain; what the hell is she talking about? “Crazy?” You ask, question her, wondering what they could possibly mean. “We really aren’t all that crazy.”

“Oh, come on.” Viti interrupts, crossing her arms as she sits on the seat directly across from you. “You know exactly what she’s talking about.” She wiggles her eyebrows, smirking.

“I happen to know his nickname the Freak is not just a name…” Nancy laughs. “If rumours from High School are anything to go by.”

Your jaw drops, laughing to compensate for the discomfort. “Why do you all want to know so badly?”

“Please.” Skyler protests, leaning forward on her elbow. “The way he looks at you? There is no possible way you guys don’t have crazy, or at least crazy good sex. Spill the beans.”

You ask for a shot glass, downing it straight away. Not that you want to entertain it, but just to protest, you’re gonna need to be a lot less sober than you are right now. “Assuming you are even close to being right,” you start, asking for another shot, “why the hell would I tell you guys?”

“Because our curiosity is peaked.” Viti explains, unwavering in the intense eye contact with you. “Spill.”

“Fine.” You give in, barely holding the laughter that bubbles out from your mouth at their joyful expressions. “Seems you guys are desperate to know, so I will tell you one little adventure. Just one.”

The music is turned down into a low melody, acting as a background when you tell the story of hooking up with him in the dressing room after just moving in with him. Their expressions are slack jawed, all on the edge of their seats as you describe the want and the adrenaline that rushes through you as your face is pushed up against the dressing room wall.

You end the story, laughing with the crowd at the circumstance in which you ended up meeting Steve Harrington. The bus stops, pulling up to the first bar for the evening. You get up easily, ignoring the way all eyes stare at you in bewilderment. “Well, you coming, or what? It is my bachelorette party!”

Robin is the first one to get up, laughter leaving her lips as she follows behind you. “C’mon, if we get her drunk enough, I’m sure that’s not the only story she’ll tell us!”

You wish you could answer the question of how you successfully made your way back into the bed of your hotel room, waking up next to the warm body that is your fiancé. The headache is splitting, waking up to the alarm on your phone that rings loud and clear. “Oh fuck.” You wince, checking the time. Luckily you still have time until your appointments, glad you opted for a later ceremony.

You go for the carry on that rests on top of your bags, knowing it holds extra strength pain killer. You take two, this hangover the worst you’ve ever felt. You refresh yourself in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and brushing your teeth.

You stumble back into the main room, greeted by Eddie sat up on the bed with a charmed look on his face. “How you doin,’” he asks, seeming to know more than he let on.

“My head hurts,” you whine, crawling into bed and wriggling your way in his arms.

“With how drunk you were last night, sweets, I bet it does,” he laughs, remembering the way he was barely unable understand the slurred words that came from your mouth. “You were so sweet, my love, and a very sloppy kisser, might I add.”

You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, the feeling getting worse as you hear his deep chuckles. “What did you see?”

Eddie is in his hotel room by 1:30, the night wrapped up early after too many rounds of shots and a rush of nostalgia from even some of the original Hellfire members joining in on the fun. They weren’t going to the wedding, but they had more than enough fun in making fun of him.

At 3:00, a few light knocks interrupt his late-night rerun. He was already yawning, his age setting in, but still waiting up for you. Through the peep hole, he sees your two best friends holding you by the arms, your eyes half open as your head sways. “Jesus,” he mumbles, rushing to unlock the chain and door lock. He opens the door with wide eyes, facing his fiancée who is giggling and hanging off her two best friends.

“Oh, thank God.” Skyler mutters, praising when Eddie opened the door. “Here, take your wife.”

You stumble forward into his arms, giggling madly when your face sees his. “You’re pretty.”

“Hi, sweets,” Eddie greets you, struggling to hold you up as your legs wriggle under him. “Have fun?”

You nod, wide smile on your face. “Kiss me.” Eddie is overtaken by how much tongue you give to him, hands hurriedly grabbing at the shirt he’s wearing, attempting to take it off and assumingly forgetting about the audience you held in the hallway.

“Whoa, whoa, baby.” He unpeels your hands and stops them, pushing them down. “I think you’re a little too drunk for that, go lie down, I’ll be right there, yeah?”

You nod, slowly staggering towards the bed, landing in a starfish position right in the middle. “So, uh, thought you said you wouldn’t get her too drunk?”

If he wasn’t so concerned for your liver, he’d laugh at the way your friends’ eyes bug out of their skulls. “We tried, we really did, girl was a runaway with a credit card.”

“You didn’t think to take her card away?”

Bethany squeaks, happy for her friend, but never wanting to be on the other side of his protectiveness again. “Oh, we tried. Also, she told us some stories.”

Eddie is afraid he already knows what she means by stories. “Stories?”

“Mmmhmm. We went from begging for one to not being able to shut her up.” Skyler explains, smiling meekly at the end of her sentence.

“Remind me not to send her out on a girls’ night with you two, anymore.” Eddie sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need her having liver failure by the time she hits thirty.”

“I mean, it was probably the excitement and all…” Bethany tries to mend but gives up at Eddie’s glare. “We’ll pick her up at 9 for the hair appointment?”

“You do that.” Eddie scrunches his face. “Thanks for getting her back safe, but I am seriously concerned for your lack of self-preservation. Goodnight.”

He doesn’t let them respond, closing the door and locking up for emphasis.

He slowly helps you take the dress that fits you extremely well off, assisting you into a pair of pyjamas. When he tucks you in under the blankets, you grab onto his shirt, yanking him in for a kiss. “Want you.”

Eddie doesn’t need any elaboration, feeling the way your hips sloppily grinded up towards him. “I know, baby, but you are way too drunk.”

“Pretty please?” You ask, your voice and face desperate in your want.

He sighs, petting your face gently. “I can make you cum, if that would help my baby?”

You nod, mewling in agreement.

“Okay, just to help you fall asleep, yeah?” You nod again as his fingers slide their way into your soaked panties, working them as he watches you fall apart easily under him.

It took you less than a minute to cum, he didn’t even slide one in. Damn. He was actually looking forward to dipping in your wet heat. You thank him repeatedly, yawning as you turn over and fall asleep in seconds.

He then had a hard on to get rid of, somehow turned on at how even when your mind is foggy all you can do is want him.

He fell asleep with you clinging onto him like a koala bear.

Eddie switches his glance back to you, smirking at the worried expression you wear on your face. “That even when you’re incredibly inebriated, you still just want me.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “But, I did want to request that you don’t destroy your liver, I was very concerned for you.”

You peer up at him, taken aback by how much his eyes convey the same message. “Okay.” You plant a clean, sober kiss on his lips, humming when his hands pet your hair. “Only because I never want to wake up not knowing what I did ever again.”

Eddie laughs, wondering what those CCTV cameras must’ve looked like. “Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

You lie on his chest, petting the patchy hair there. “What?”

“We’re getting married today.”

You can’t help it, grinning madly at this sentence and the pride in his voice. Holy shit, you’re getting married today.

Only ten more minutes of pure bliss, sharing sweet kisses and exchanging words of excitement do you get before the cavalry arrives, both your bridesmaids and Eddie’s groomsmen storming the room together.

He kisses you fiercely as he’s shooed out the hotel room, not able to get enough in before he sees you in that dress. “Love you!”

The door is shut, but you shout it back anyway, suddenly the excitement and the joy of your day settling in.

Holy shit, you’re marrying Eddie Munson, today.

Since you called almost one month ago, the only hair salon in town has been booked for you and your bridesmaids until noon. The stylist is full of questions about how you met, how long you’ve been together, what he does for work, all things you’re more than happy to explain. You didn’t ask for much, only curls that braided into a crown at the base of your head, but you didn’t want to risk spending hours on it.

She leans in as soon as your hair is done, reaching your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror. “Correct me if I’m wrong, you’re the one marrying Eddie Munson, right?”

Your eyes bug, biting your lip. “Mmhm,” you confirm, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.

“Don’t worry, small town things.” She laughs, taking the cape off you. “Your makeup artist just got here, I’ll let her take care of you in this seat.”

You thank her graciously, appreciating the companionship and conversation she provided, despite the nerves really starting to set in.

Thanks to a string of emails shared between you and the makeup artist, she has a great idea of exactly what you’re wanting, a natural look with the smallest hint of smoke. You find yourself having déjà vu when she asks the same questions, naming the groom to boot. The repetition is oddly comforting, you’d even call it soothing.

“Alright just a finishing touch, and you are all…done!” She hands you a hand mirror, and you couldn’t have done it better if you tried.

No. Seriously. You’ve tried.

Your bridesmaids all get their make up done, too, the group sitting in a circle as they talk absolute nonsense. “Dude, you’re the chilliest bride ever, we don’t have to wear matching dresses and you paid for our hair and make up? To think Skyler thought you were gonna be a bridezilla!”

You quirk your eyebrow at Skyler, who was in the middle of getting her make up done. For free. “Sky?”

“Hey, you were the one who always wanted the fairytale wedding,” Skyler rebuttals, raising her hands up in surrender.

“I said that like, a year ago!” You protest, a little defensive.

Skyler laughs, loud enough to stop all the other conversations in the salon. “Babe, you said that the week before you met your groom!”

Your eyes roll, a little embarrassed from being called out. “Yeah, okay, so before I met someone, I’m willing to give up a fairytale wedding for?”

“I mean he would’ve given you one,” your sister peeps out, having been quiet this entire time. “Pretty sure you didn’t need to give it up.”

“You have any idea how long those weddings take to plan?” You ask crossing your arms in your seat. “I was not going to wait that long.”

“Down, girl.” Bethany laughs, the rest of the salon following suit.

As soon as the stupidly massive bill is paid with a card that bares a name you’ll soon share, you’re brought back to the hotel room.

All you asked from your bridesmaids that they dress in something that makes them feel comfortable, but not something they’d wear to a night out.

As soon as they’re all dressed, they surround you in a circle of love as they help you get into your dress. Not that it requires them to help you out, but the sentiment is certainly there. Just when you thought you looked great in the dress when you initially tried it on, it’s nothing with everything tied together. God forbid someone call you out for being weepy, but you couldn’t help it even if you tried.

“You ready, Miss. Bride?” Bethany, your maid of honour asks, petting your hair as she meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Nope.” You answer, without a lick of hesitation. “Yet at the same time, I have never been more ready.”

“Usually I would harp on you for being cheesy, but that was actually really touching,” Skyler admits. You promise to yourself you wouldn’t hold the mist in her eyes against her, (no matter how hard she makes it.)

Your heel lands on the pavement of the cement, getting out of the car Bethany and Skyler took to the church. In the entrance hall of the church you meet your parents and the groomsmen, Eddie tucked away so he can’t see him, or rather, he can’t see you.

As the groomsmen pair up with the bridesmaids, (Bethany blushing as her arms are wrapped around Steve’s), your dad’s hand lands on your shoulder, kind eyes behind his round classes peering at you. “You, ok, there?”

“I’m so nervous.”

He takes these words in, nodding in consideration. “What exactly are you nervous about?”

A rush of emotion takes over you, resisting the urge to glance down the aisle to where you know Eddie’s about to start making his way down any moment now. “How badly I want this.”

“Nothing else?” You nod your head, no reluctance in it. “Well, then all you have to do is start down that aisle.”

The music you picked, a cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love, starts at 3’clock on the dot, much to the way your heart flutters.

Steve approaches you, arm around Bethany’s. “I helped Eddie sneak through, he didn’t see a single thing, and he’s already on the opposite side of the aisle waiting for you.” You nod, your eyes apparently bug wide. “Breathe. If it helps, he’s been a wreck all day.”

That helps. That helps more than he knows. “Really?”

“It was kind of annoying, honestly.” Steve answers, face twisted up. “Well, we’re about to miss our cue in the song, see you there.”

“Uh huh,” you answer, warm under the kiss he plants on your cheek.

Arm in arm with Dylan, Skyler winks at you as she soon follows.

Did your sister really have to walk the aisle with Arlo?

Your dad’s arm hooks in yours, patting your hand comfortingly. “It’s time.”

But I can’t help…falling in love with you.

There’s only about 30 or so people in the pews, but even as they all stand with their eyes on you, you’re glad there’s so few. However as soon as your eyes meet his chocolate ones on the other end, you forget all the nerves, all the anxiety, all the worry.

First, your mouth curls into an involuntary smile. Not by any means of sadness, does your smile fade and turn to tears. A laugh bubbles from your chest, the mixture of tears and laughter confusing you. Maybe it has something to do with the tears that also reflect in his eyes, and the way you can’t look away from him, but you could swear there’s only the two of you in the church.

The two of you in the world, really.

There’s a squeeze on your arm, your dad reminding you he’s with you every step on the way, but your eyes are glued in place. The closer you get to him, the wider his smile grows, yours growing as a direct answer. A tear escapes, and escape in the sense that you’ve done your best to hold them back, mouthing I love you to him.

If he didn’t have as much pride as he does, you know he’d be just as weepy as you are.

Finally, you reach the end of the aisle. “I’m proud of you,” your dad whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Now, go get married.”

You finally exchange a smile with him, quickly embracing his hug. “Thanks, dad.”

You step up to the altar, eyes raking over the sea, or pond, of people in the pews. Eliza sits with her mom in the front seat, excitedly waving to a couple that only has eyes for one another.

Finally, your hands extend to hold his, switching back to face him. Oh, just when you thought he looked handsome, it turns out he gets impossibly more so when wearing a suit. A gorgeous, black suit, accentuating his slim hips and his hair loosely gelled down.

His eyes rake over you, eyes unable to stay in one place on you. “You look beautiful.” Eddie whispers, voice deep and breathless.

You sigh, another tear leaving your eye. “Unfairly handsome.”

“You been crying?” He asks, holding your face to wipe them away.

Your lean your head into his hand, closing your eyes in sweet relief. “You’ve been, too,” you sigh, noting the single tear streaked down his face.

The person you’ve chosen to marry you has no true significance, and Steve had initially suggested he do it, but who cared. However, the pastor has known Eddie since he was a teenager, more than happy to marry him to you.

His words fade into the background, a few verses about love and anecdote or two about it in his speech. Truthfully, nothing matters but his eyes on yours and the way his gaze makes you feel.

A chorus of laughter echoes through the church, catching your attention, finally. “Seems we you got back again.” When you both look at him confused, he chuckles deeply. “We understand you’ve written your own vows?” You look at one another, but there’s no hint of any shame. “Eddie, you may go first.”

“I wish that I know how much that one shower would change my life,” Eddie starts, his thumb rubbing over your fingers. “I got in, stressing about the shop, then I got downstairs, and I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Oh, fuck. “I have to be honest, I know you keep saying you’re lucky, but I really am the lucky one that you saw anything in this old schmuck. Everyday I have done nothing but the best to feel deserving of your love, to make sure you aren’t taken for granted.”

The tears that stream down your face are uncontrollable. “Sometimes I don’t think I have any right to feel any right to feel as protective or possessive over you as I am, until you surprise me by saying something that puts words in my mouth, the same ones I’d have been thinking all that time. To love this much and to be loved the same in return is a miracle that I will never take advantage of, my love. You will never feel taken advantage of, never worry about money or shelter, and never worry about my loyalty to you.

“I love you. I will never be ashamed of it, I will never ask more of you than you can give. You have already given me everything you have, whether I deserve it or not, and I will give you the same, every time. To be honest, I have marvelled over what to say to you, staring at a blank page. All I can say is that you will never doubt my love for you. Ever.”

God, your makeup must be completely ruined by now from the tears and the snot. Halfway through Bethany came in clutch, offering tissues from her brassiere. Your ears could’ve been tricking you, but you swear up and down there are sniffles echoing from the audience.

“Now that we all had a chance to collect our selves, our beautiful bride, your turn.” You nod, blinking in surprise when you notice there’s a wetness in his eyes, as well.

“That’s gonna be hard to follow,” you laugh, the witnesses laughing with you. “Eddie. My love. To say it is a miracle that I love you this much and you love me just as much is an understatement. It’s not just a miracle, it’s a dream come true. A dream I never knew I had. That day also started differently for me, in ways I still regret to this day,” you say, looking behind him to where Dylan stands. “You come downstairs with your wet hair and, well, you, and it is true more than I could describe that I did fall in love with you in that moment, too.” His tears aren’t as messy as yours was, but Steve comes in clutch with a tissue as well.

“Every day I’m with you, all other fears seem to fade and disappear. Nothing else matters, I can truly get through everything with you by my side. It’s no lie that I am outrageously attracted to you, but I don’t think anyone could blame me for it.” He laughs at this, rolling his eyes in dismissal. “It’s the only part of my attraction though, I will deny anyone that could even dare to insinuate otherwise. Until I met you, I never knew I could feel this loved, this happy or satisfied by anyone’s mere existence, alone.

With you, I am happy. Even when I’m not. With you, I am both protected and taken care of. The way you protect me, I will do the same. The way you take care of me, I will do the same. Your sweet selflessness will never be taken advantage of, in any such way. From the moment I saw you, Edward Munson, I knew. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

“Jesus Christ.” It wouldn’t have been too alien to guess that it was Eddie who said it, but the very sniffles and exclamation came from behind him, Steve using his suit jacket to wipe a tear away.

“You okay, bud?” Eddie asks, also using his tissue.

“Just marry the girl, already.”

“Well, we do have some papers to sign.” The pastor escorts you to where your legal papers sit, names written for everything except the date and final signitures.

Steve signs, followed by Bethany, both sporting shiny eyes. She winks her green eyes at you, handing you the pen. When you sign yours, Eddie places a kiss on your neck, sweet and gentle. When he signs his, your fingers cling to the silk material of his jacket.

“Well, I think you two have seemed to wait long enough. I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride.” Eddie doesn’t even bother waiting until the end of the sentence to grab your face and plant a kiss on your lips, knocking the air out from your lungs from the love that surrounds you. He doesn’t care about his audience, barely takes note of the applause that breaks out, kissing you in a way that you normally wouldn’t dare in front of your parents on a good day.

Who fucking cares, you’re announcing your love to the world, they’ll get over it.

The flashes of Jeremy Byer’s camera is in your face as you walk down the aisle of the church together, hand in hand with him, fingers nearly losing feeling in your fingers as he grips onto you tightly.

When you stop in the church corridor, all that can be felt is a sense of celebration. You did it. All you need to do now, is party. “Oh my god, finally.”

He chuckles, wrapping you in his arms. “Can I tell you something, love?” You nod, inhaling his sweet cologne. “The moment I saw you in this pretty dress I got rock hard.”

You lick your lips, eyeing him up and down. “You don’t think your words made me absolutely drenched, Ed?”

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, kissing you sweetly again.

There wasn’t a moment to escape for a few hours, whisked off to an area surrounded by beautiful flowers and greenery to take pictures, surrounded by the wedding party. On the phone, all you communicated is that you needed someone to take pictures of the wedding party for portraits as well as individual shots of you and Eddie, and Jeremy was a complete gem.

As soon as the portraits are over, every portrait where you look in his eyes not feeling a hint of cheesiness or falsehood, you are to head back to the hotel conference room for a reception.

Traditional receptions usually hold a first dance, speeches, embarrassing moments, cake cutting ceremonies, etc. To be completely honest you don’t trust your best friend or his to make speeches that won’t embarrass the two of you completely. And rather than sit for dull speeches, you told Eddie all you wanted was to celebrate with him and a DJ playing all the songs the two of you love, the wild combination it is.

You told your dad you would dance with him for the song that would’ve been your father-daughter dance, but nearly no traditions kept up for the reception.

The hotel offered a few plates of entrees for your guests before the DJ announces you two as a married couple something you accepted with a small external deposit. Steve oversaw ordering 20 pizzas in varying flavours, the very thing you’ll be doing instead of cake or dinner.

You hold your new husband’s hand in excitement as the DJ announces your arrival, the first announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Munson to some dad-rock song that he personally requested.

Well, the only thing you really splurged on for the reception was the open bar.

You pet the curls at Eddie’s neck, swaying together to the first slow song that the DJ played. Your lips are already kiss-bruised from your long day spent kissing him, but it doesn’t possibly prevent you kissing him any more, every single one he gives you somehow making you dizzier than last.

“Baby.” He grunts, getting your attention. He nods behind you, gesturing to the left. You turn you head to face Arlo and Viti, her eyes shining bright as she stares up at him, dancing even slower than you were.

“I’m gonna have to accept that, aren’t I?” You say, noting the special way her face is cradled by his hand and the way she leans into it.

“Looks like it, sweets.” Eddie says, his eyes still on you when you look back to him.

You sigh, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Hey, I gotta get going, I’m getting exhausted.” You look over to face Wayne, grinning in his plaid and slacks.

“Of course, thanks for coming.” Eddie says, giving him a hug. “So glad you could meet her.”

“Are you kidding, Ed? With those vows? Next time I see you, you better warn me before you make me cry like that.” Wayne laughs winking. “I’m glad you two found each other.”

“Love you, Wayne.” You say, grabbing him in for a big hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”

Wayne hugs him, too, gripping onto him tightly. “Thanks for the open bar, you two.”

The way you surround yourself with your friends and family, dancing up and down as the music bumps, the lights down with strobe lights flashing. In the middle of it, Eddie starts kissing your neck hands roaming and making you feel everything.

Eddie tugs on your hand as he leads you to a crowded hallway, a dead end with nowhere to go to. Your back collides with the wall as he kisses you, feverously and deliciously hungry for you as you are for him. “Oh, sweet love, do you know how crazy you make me in that pretty dress?” His hands hurriedly make their way under the skirt of your dress, ruffling it up as he presses himself against you. “I have been mercilessly hard since the moment you started coming down that aisle, baby.”

“You gonna fuck me in the hallway, Eddie?” You ask, breathless, “Can’t hold back that badly?”

“From the moment I first kissed you, I haven’t been able to hold back from you, love. You think I can hold back when you drive me as crazy as you do?” His kisses trail down your neck, nibbling and simultaneously inhaling your scent. “My wife, my gorgeous, lovely, beautiful, bride.”

You gasp, head tilted up as he effortlessly lifts you by your hands lifting under your thighs. “Need your cock, Ed.”

“Yeah, you need me to fuck you ruthlessly, my love?”

You nod hands shaky as you attempt to undo his dress pants. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie yanks your panties down your thighs, marveling at the lacy fabric. “Fuck, I need that sweet, tight, pussy.”

Before you knew it, Eddie was lining himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, hurry up, before someone comes for looking for us.”

“You think I care if someone walks in on me fucking my wife?” Eddie asks, and his question sounds genuine. “I couldn’t care less if someone walks in on us, at least they could get a good show, we could give ‘em someone to be jealous of, yeah?”

Hopelessly, you feel impossibly more turned on by his dirty perfect words. “Then give me your big cock, Ed. Please.”

Eddie pushes into you, filling you completely. “Oh, there’s that cock drunk face I’ve been wanting to see.”

“Eddie, cock, so big!”

He doesn’t waste a second bucking into you, harsh and ruthlessly perfect. “Somehow your pussy gets better every time I fuck you, sweets. How tight you are, how perfect, oh, if I didn’t love it so much I would say it needs to be illegal.”

“The only thing that should be illegal, Ed, is how good you are with words.” Eddie laughs, hot breath down your neck. “God, you make me so happy…”

“Can’t wait to see you big and pregnant, sweets.” Eddie sighs, repeatedly bucking into you. “Wanna fill you with my babies.”

“Want your babies.” You gasp.

“Where the hell did they go?” Down the hall, you hear someone but it doesn’t occur that it even needs to matter. “God, need to put a bell on those two—oh my god!”

Your head turns to the noise, seeing your best friend standing in the hall with her eyes covered by her hands. “Either stay and enjoy the show,” Eddie stops to gasp, “or take off back to the hall.”

“I-I’m so sorry…I’ll see you in the dancing room,”

You giggle, tugging him in for a big kiss. “Sweet girl.” He laughs, starting to fuck you even harder.

“Cum in me, please, Eddie.” You beg, nails digging into the hair on his neck. “Wanna be filled with you.”

“I am going to keep you good and full on the honeymoon, my good whore,” Eddie mutters and you can feel him start to fall apart. “Gonna fuck you everywhere I can, put on a good show for everyone.”

You tighten around him, turned more than ever by his words. “I love you, Mr. Munson.”

He smiles, colliding his forehead against yours. “I love you, more, Mrs. Munson.”

You don’t know what it is about your new name, but it’s what gets the both of you off, Eddie’s cum filling you up deliciously.

Bethany avoids your eye as soon as you get into the room, and you’re sure she’ll get over it, not like you haven’t heard her and her ex-boyfriend many times.

“Hey, heard you traumatized your maid of honour.” Steve laughs, clutching a slice of pizza in one hand, and a drink of whiskey in the other.

You yank the piece, suddenly aware of how little you’ve eaten. “I thought she’d know better to walk in on us by now.” You laugh, taking a large bite.

Steve checks his watch, the very same hand you just yoinked the pizza from. “Doesn’t your flight take off in about the next three-ish hours?”

Eddie checks his, gulping in answer. “Oh, shit.” You check it with him, having a flight out that same night. “Should we get going, love?”

You nod, placing your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

Everyone applauds as you walk out in a sweet white dress, ready to take off to Cancun with your husband, walking down the lane surrounded by love.

Everyone gives you a hug, wishing you well on your long honeymoon.

“Don’t expect to hear from us!” You call, getting in the car that Eddie ordered.

The heat from sun is beautiful, sandals flopping in sync as you walk from the taxi that brought you to the hotel. “Jesus, Eddie.” You mutter, looking at your extravagant surroundings. “You did not need to spend this much on the hotel.”

“Well, get used to being spoiled, baby girl.” He mutters, leading you to the check in desk.

The check in attendant smiles sweetly, covertly putting one side of her hair behind one of her ears. She speaks with a thick Mexican accent, giving her best customer service smile. “Hi, checking in?”

“Yes, under the name Munson, please.” Eddie says, wrapping his arm around you.

“Oh, the honeymoon suite!” She exclaims, her smile brightening. “Well, to start, congratulations on your nuptials, and every request is completely fulfilled, no problem. As asked, we will not disturb your room unless absolutely necessary, and we have already booked the spa for your wife.”

“Spa?” You ask, eyebrow tilting towards him. “I love the sound of that.”

“Knew you would.”

“And you have a dinner reservation tonight at 7. Any questions, feel free to call the front desk, any time of the day,” she says, handing the card with the room number.

The floor level with your room only has a few rooms. Eddie taps his card on the door to open it, opening to a room with a damn kitchen suite and a separate room for the bed. “What the hell did you spend?” You ask him, mouth gapping open as your bags slip out of your bags.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, love.” Eddie walks to you, hands caressing your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. “C’mon, we have king bed I want to take advantage of.”

“What was that about no interruptions?” You ask him, petting his curls.

“You think we’re leaving this room for the next six hours?” he asks, lightly pushing you towards the double doors that open to the bedroom.

His words make you literally insane, wanting him more than you ever have. “W-what?”

“Baby, I am going to absolutely ravish you for so long you won’t even remember your own name.” He claims, already pulling the zipper down your back. “But you will remember your new last one.”

Your back is laid on the bed, Eddie pulling your panties down, biting on the second pair of lacey lingerie you wear for him in less than 24 hours. “Sweet girl, look how soaked you are for me.”

“Need you.” You grunt, anticipating Eddie finally tasting you from the feel of his hot breath on your pussy, sending shivers down your spine as Eddie places your legs over his shoulders.

Eddie kisses you, nose nuzzling in your intoxicating scent, his hilted nose hitting right up against your clit. “Fuck, are you wet, baby.”

“Can you blame me, I just married the hottest man alive!” You moan, heels pulling him in.

“My wife is the prettiest, and I will be spending my life making sure everyone around me knows how smoking hot you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to eat.”

Your hands fly into his short curls, lying restlessly as Eddie devours you. Your first orgasm takes over your body, invading every sense with mind numbing pleasure.

By the third one invades your body, everything is too much, feels too good, “Fuck! Eddie I can’t, I can’t!”

“You can, my girl, of course you can. Remember what I said about making you forget your name? I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He laughs, thumb circling your clit.

By the fifth orgasm you eventually learn that not even begging will stop him if he can help it. “You got a safe word, use it.”

His fingers hook in your warmth, driving you to another one, to which this point you’ve lost count. You swear you’re speaking to him, but in all truth, it is all incoherent. You’re trying to tell him how much you love him, and how good he makes you feel, but Eddie can’t make a single word out of it.

“What’s your name, hmm?” Eddie asks, spitting on your pussy dirtily.

You tell him, gasping for air.

“I see, still not enough yet.”

It takes 11 orgasms to finally drive you to the point where tears are falling from your eyes, both in happiness and straight pleasure. Eddie’s face is straight up soaked in you, the slick drenching his face like a beard. “Alright, beautiful wife, what’s your name?”

Your head lifts up, loopy at the idea that you even had a name to begin with. All that comes out is desperate gasps.

“There we go.” He mutters, crawling up your body. “Think you can handle my cock, or do you think you’re done, baby.”

Your hand reaches out for him, tugging him by his holiday shirt. You can’t communicate, all words left your brain, but you do know you still want his cock.

“Of course, I will still fuck my good girl.” Eddie answers, wiping the tears that fell down your face away.

You’re limp as he fucks into you, hands gripping your hips ruthlessly. All he can do is mutter how much he loves you, and how good of a girl you just were for him, and he could watch you fall apart all day, especially after marrying you.

He fills you up again, arms wrapping from behind you as you fell straight asleep, still muttering sweet nothings and wishes of his love.

The first thing that happens when you wake up, is your knees collapse from under you when you try to get up to use the bathroom.

After the mind numbing pleasure he just gave you, you suppose it only made sense. As you brush your teeth, he walks up behind you, his naked torso against your bare back as he kisses your neck gently. “Feel good?”

You laugh, almost choking on the toothpaste in your mouth. “Yes, baby.” You nod, spitting it into the sink. “It’s not past 7, is it?”

He turns you around to face him, giving you a sweet look of love. “Nope. Actually it’s in about an hour. Get ready, sweet stuff.”

“Actually, one minute.” You giggle, grabbing him by the hand before he can leave the bathroom.

“Hmm?” He asks, face questioning.

“Just need to do one thing…” You couldn’t help it, knowing he spent the better part of two hours just going down on you before you napped together. You get on your knees.

“What—oh, oh! Oh, fuck.”

After being bent over the sink in the bathroom, Eddie and you make your way into the front of the restaurant.

The host leads the way, sitting you in a corner of the dining room.

Eddie orders you a sweet cocktail and him a bourbon, eyeing you over the menu.

You returned the favour, making him cum twice before he finally begged to just fuck you.

The dinner is filled with your hopes and dreams, things you’ve been too worried to tell one another, scared of coming across too much.

Eddie wants to raise three kids with you. You agree, confessing how hard you fell for him after seeing him chase Eliza. He doesn’t plan on moving, but might if you asked him to.

You’re only working because you’re scared of relying on him, or making him feel like a bank. He doesn’t care, you can work or not, it’s completely up to you. Sometimes you worry about him being afraid to tell you when he is feeling too achy, joints too sore, or is not ready for something. Truly, honestly, Eddie is more worried about you thinking he’s too old for you.

It was never a worry to begin with, despite the 22-year age gap.

If you could stop asking yourself how it’s possible to keep falling for someone harder, you would.

When Eddie takes the dress you wear off, he’s whispering sweet promises, somehow even sweeter than the vows he told you.

It was two more rounds before you fell asleep in his arms once more.

Camille works her front desk, filling in some paperwork and starting her opening shift duties. “Hi Linda!” She says, greeting one of the maids who has been working there 15+ years. “Morning, Linda! Any updates?”

Linda leans in, as she always does when she has hot gossip. “Were you the one that checked in that newly wed couple yesterday?”

“Uh, Munsons on the eighth floor?” She asks, remembering the way he touched her ass so brazenly in front of her. “Yeah, I remember them.”

“Well every maid has heard them over the last 24 hours, they are relentless with one another.”

Camille resists from laughing, eyes bugging out of her head. “Like…?”

“Yes. Exactly like that.” She looks both ways before leaning in again.

“And trust me when I say they are loud.”

“Well, I guess I know why they didn’t want to be interrupted,” She laughs, barely holding back in laughter.

The hot sand lies underneath your towel, one foot bent, the other extended as your sunglasses barely shade you from the sun. One ear pod is in your ear, the other in Eddie’s, listening to a sweet mixture of both your music taste.

Eddie lies almost directly next to you, body in direct touch with yours. You’ve been there for barely an hour, sun cascading down on you. “Hey sweet thing,” Eddie starts, turning towards you, leaning on his elbow.

You take the earpiece out, lifting your head to look at your smoking hot husband. “Hmm?”

“C’mon, we’re going for a swim.” Eddie says, holding your hand out for your earpiece. “C’mon.”

You hand it to him, letting the dress you wear over your bathing suit fall off your body. “It’s unfair how hot you are.” He says, eyes appreciating you blatantly.

One of the only things you’ve kept from your relationship with your now stepson, (still weird), is the bathing suit you wore when you met Eddie. You made sure he didn’t see it until this moment, and it was worth the wait. Even as you run straight to the water, you’re utterly aware of how Eddie is chasing you, giggles invading the otherwise quiet beach as you splash into the water.

As you swim together, you can see the sweat that beads on his skin from the hot sun. You can’t help but splash him, enjoying every moment with him in the eerily blue water. “You like my swimsuit?”

He grabs you so your legs easily wrap around his waist, lips meeting the salt on his skin from the sweat. “Shut up, you knew exactly what you were doing, baby.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

He laughs, arms pulling you in tightly, so you feel the boner in his trunks. “You don’t think I don’t remember what you were wearing when I first met you, sweets?” One hand slips to your bikini bottom sliding it over. “Those pink strings stayed etched in my mind for days.”

One finger slides in, Eddie watching your reaction carefully. “Been thinking of ways to make you fall apart on a public beach ever since, and this is just one of them.” He feels you tighten up around him in response, a smile slowly creeping on the face. “Making you cum in the water, no one will be the wiser if you keep quiet.”

You gulp, placing your head in the crook of his neck. “Oh, fuck, daddy.”

“I know you love to be watched, hmm, my little minx?”

You nod, barely holding in any of the gasps that leave your throat. “Love people to see you like this, I just know you do.”

“Gonna make you cum, then we’re gonna fuck hidden away from the rest of them, yeah?” You nod, nails digging into his shoulder.

The feeling takes over you, withering in his arms as you try to stay quiet. The sloshing of the water around the two of you certainly doesn’t help, however. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, if I didn’t know water sex actually feels terrible, I’d have put it in by now.” Eddie muses, still grinding his tent against your cunt, still uncovered.

Eddie eventually finds a little secluded area sort of by the water, yet somewhere people might still be able to cross accidentally. His cock his perfect as it hits the spot repeatedly, and he doesn’t even give up after the first time he fills you up. “Listen to you whine for me like a little slut.” He moans, untying the strings on your neck to reveal your tits. “I bet everyone on that beach can hear you.”

At this point you didn’t even care. “Let them listen.”

He laughs, sighing into your neck. “Whatever you say, pretty girl. Just keep taking this cock, let the chips fall where they may.”

It’s a miracle your stuff wasn’t stolen off the beach.

Eddie sends you to the spa, demanding you get everything and anything that tickled your fancy. When asked why he didn’t want to follow you, he gives the vaguest explanation in the world, and unfortunately he’s stubborn enough to wait until you give in.

So, a full body massage, a pedicure, sitting in a mud bath just because you can, and you come back to the hotel room feeling more pampered than you knew was possible. “Hey, Ed—” You stop short as soon as the red flower petals that lead you to the bedroom come into sight. “What--?”

All you can do is follow the giggles that radiate from the room.

The double doors open to him, sitting next to a table with a supper on it. “How you feelin, sweets?”

“Pampered.” You answer honestly, your feet twisting nervously.

“Good.” Eddie answers, picking up a dress you knew he had bought in light of being the only one to ever see you wear it. It’s…revealing…to say the least. “Put that on, then come sit down with me.” As his eyes rake down your body, lucky isn’t even close to how you’re feeling. “Man, I’m good.”

“What’s all this for?”

“Do I need a reason to spoil you?”

You laugh, sitting when he pulls the chair out for you. “No, I’m just—”

“I get it.” Eddie offers, sitting across the small table. “It feels a bit much, to me, too. But man, I need you to know how much I love you, sometimes or I will melt.”

Do I even need to tell you how the evening ended? I’ll give you a hint; love bites that cover your neck, passed your breast, and trailing all the way to your pussy.

“Since when do you dance, anyway?” You ask him after he tells you the purpose of your walk for the night.

“Since grinding against you in a club was an option.” Eddie answers, laughter bubbling behind in his voice.

He leads you through a crowd of people dancing to a Latin beat, heavy on horns and percussion. He doesn’t give you a chance to even hesitate, his fingers strong on your exposed hips from the cut out in your dress, his knee planting itself in between your legs.

The heat makes his curls frazzle, the constant salt on his skin sweet. From the last two weeks spent in the sun, he’s starting to get a sun-kissed glow. His hand intertwines itself into your hair, tugging on the scalp as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, somehow still moving his hips against yours simultaneously.

“This is the best feeling.” He mutters, not expanding any more.

“What?” You mewl, your hips truly starting to give in to the beat.

“Knowing I have the hottest girl here.” He states, as if it’s a straight fact.

“Imagine how I feel.” You state, knowing for a fact no one even compares to his level.

Eddie turns you around, mouth kissing against your neck as your hand lands on the curls that now are surprisingly already getting some growth again.

He can’t stop his wondering hands. He never can. As if he has the strength to. They never actually touch anything, but they do grab at your ass, your thighs, even feel your tit up. Eddie loves the heat that radiates your pussy, a signal of how fantastic he makes you feel, and how much you want him, no matter where you are.

As you hop bar to bar, drink to drink, dance to dance, by the time you stumble back into the hotel room together you’re both so revved up, you don’t even bother taking your clothes off.

Your reputation throughout the hotel is how intensely you feel for one another, how badly you love each other, and usually they’d just chop it up to newlyweds, but this was a different intensity. Most of the maids haven’t even seen your faces, but they know for a plenty of intimate details just from cleaning on the same floor.

There’s not a single noise complaint, as the floor of the newlywed suites are basically made to make it your oasis.

By the end of the third week, you get homesick for your little house with him, homesick for your own bed. Eddie has spent all the time in the world ravishing you wherever he can, and it would be a lie to say you didn’t spend a single second on your knees in a public setting.

Camille, a woman who has spent the three weeks recommending local restaurants and helping Eddie with his little schemes, helps you check out and speaks to you over the desk as if you were an old friend. “By the way, I hope you know you two have gained quite the reputation here. Have a safe flight.”

Eddie’s truck is in the driveway when you get home, Steve promising to bring it back as one of his many best-man duties.

As your back hits your back, it’s better than ever to be home, glancing up at the popcorn ceiling. As you’re lying down, you notice a slight ache in your nipples that isn’t very normal for you. No mind, you would grab a test from under the sink and take it just in case.

Is…is that two lines? Is that two lines?

That’s definitely two lines.

“Shit.”

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slut4thebroken · 11 months

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 8

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | You make the poor choice of teasing Dr. Crane, so obviously he has to punish you.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, hickeys, praise, edging, crying (but in a hot way), consensual sex, orgasm denial, cockwarming?, emotions? idk, neither does he tbh, bestie has no idea how to comfort you💀

Words | 3.6k

Notes | Trying really hard to keep his character accurate😓 lmk what y’all think lol

Ao3 link | <3

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Part 7

Neither of you mentioned his confession again. He seemed to be acting mostly normal and only a little awkward and withdrawn so you tried to remain the same to assure him that nothing changed. You were sitting on the couch, doodling with a spare piece of paper he found as well as an extra pencil, when you broke the silence.

“Where are you planning on sleeping?” You asked, eyeing the large space that was empty save for a desk, a chair, and a couch.

“The couch.” He said, not looking up from what he was working on.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” You asked, making him sigh and turn his gaze to you. “For now you may sleep on the couch, I doubt I’ll be sleeping much anyway.”

“Oh. Don’t you have an apartment? A bed?”

“The cops are going to be looking for everyone that escaped, including myself- especially myself, because I created what caused all of that.”

“Oh… What if I go? I can bring you back some clothes so you don’t have to stay in that and anything else you need? I doubt I can lift a mattress on my own though.”

“You want to go to my apartment in the middle of town, wearing that?” He asked, raising his brows. You looked down at your outfit and frowned, just now remembering that you’re wearing it still.

“People are dumb enough to hang their laundry up outside. I’ll just take something before getting downtown.” You suggested, but back tracked when he was silent for a moment. “I don’t have to, it was just an idea.”

“What will you do if the police show up?”

“Um… I’ll tell them you’re my boyfriend and I left something there that I need.” That made him scoff.

“They won’t believe that.”

“Fine. Ex boyfriend. Who’s been so busy working that I had to just go there myself.” You shrugged and he narrowed his eyes at you for a moment.

“Fine. Know that if you get caught, I have no power or leverage anymore to help you.” Honestly you didn’t expect him to agree. You figured he might want to keep you within his sight at all times but that wasn’t the case. Trying not to read into this new found trust, you were going over the plan in your head.

“Wait, is it even within walking distance?” You realized, worried the whole plan just fell apart.

“It’s not on this island, so no. And the train is still down because of the bat.”

“Oh… I can probably walk, it’ll just take me longer I guess.” The sun was rising anyway, so it’ll probably be fine. “Or I’ll ask someone for a ride.”

“Do not do that.” He said sternly, making you frown.

“Why not?”

“Because this is Gotham and you are a young, attractive woman. You will more than likely be kidnapped, raped, or killed.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” He let out a heavy sigh, and got something out of his desk drawer. When he told you to come to him, you stood, leaving the pencil and paper, and walked over.

“Give me your hand.” You held your arm out to him and he gently grabbed your hand to put on a very weird shaped bracelet on your wrist. “In case you don’t have time to put the mask on, point it away from your face and hold your breath, then push this.” He pointed to a lever near the heel of your hand and you reached for it, trying to test the motion and get used to it, but he stopped you.

“Not- now.” He strained, uncurling your fingers.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly.

Then you were leaving, finding clothes that looked about the right size and changing in an alley behind a dumpster. The tricky part was the shoes but they’re subtle enough that they shouldn’t draw very much attention. You found an empty paper bag near the dumpster and put the mask in it then started looking for someone to drive you. You spotted an older woman getting into a car and immediately walked toward her.

“Excuse me?” You said, making her pause.

“No change, sorry.”

“Oh no, I was actually hoping you could give me a ride. I have a job interview downtown and it probably wouldn’t make a good impression to show up all sweaty. But I understand if it’s too much trouble…”

She only hesitated for a moment before agreeing, telling you to get in the back and asking for the address. You read it off the paper to her and ten minutes later you were pulling up in front of an apartment building.

“You sure this is it?”

“It’s for a small business.” You explained, quickly getting out of the car. “Thank you so much.” You dropped the smile as soon as you turned around to walk into the building. “Fuck,” You groaned, “I don’t have a fucking key.” How could you have forgotten that part? You decided to just walk inside, breathing a sigh of relief when you spotted a front desk.

“Hi, I lost my key and my boyfriend’s out of town and I’m supposed to feed his cat,”

“What number?” The man asked, bored.

“178.” He reached back and grabbed a key, handing it to you impatiently. “Thanks...” He wasn’t lying when he said everyone and everything is corrupt or just doesn’t care.

You made your way to the elevator and pushed 17. As you waited, you went over the list he gave you. Most of the stuff was easy, an extra pair of glasses in his desk drawer, a few pairs of clothes, shoes, a toothbrush as well as the extra one under the sink for yourself, etc. But you were mostly worried about the safe and the papers he wanted. What if you can’t open it? What if you grab the wrong ones?

The elevator opening with a ding removed you from your thoughts and you made your way to his door. You worked quickly, not wanting to increase your chances of getting caught, but you took the time to fold his suits, worried he’d be upset if you just threw them in his duffel bag. You opened the safe on the second try, putting the money that was in there in the duffel bag.

Then you made your way to the desk. Even though the rest of the place was completely tidy, the desk was covered in different papers. He said they would be on top, not in a drawer, so you grabbed everything just to be safe.

Before leaving, you went through his dresser, praying he wouldn’t be pissed, and got some shirts and sweatpants for yourself, as well as a hoodie and socks.

The ride back was much easier since you had money to take a cab, but you still had to walk a few minutes, not wanting to be dropped off right in front of his “hideout” just in case.

“No trouble?” He asked, barely glancing up from what he was writing.

“Well I realized I forgot to ask about a key- speaking of which, you should probably move because the guy at the front desk just gave it to me.” The corners of his lips turned up and your cheeks went red, still not used to it.

“Good job.” You stared at him in shock, feeling your cheeks heat up even more, but you tried to play it off.

“Did you just compliment me?” You scoffed teasingly.

“Don’t get used to it. Did you bring the papers I asked for?”

“Oh- yeah.” You set the duffel bag on the desk and he opened it to inspect the contents. “I- I hope it’s okay, I brought just a few shirts and pants for myself too.” You said nervously. When he didn’t respond, you figured that meant it was okay. He started looking through the papers, then turned to you with raised brows. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring the wrong thing so I just took all of it.”

“Thank you.” He said, making your eyes widen.

“Mhm.” Was all you could say in response. “Oh- here.” You said, suddenly remembering the wristband and taking it off to give it back.

“Keep it.”

“What?” You choked out. “You- you’re not worried I’ll use it on you or something?” You asked, staring at him with furrowed brows.

“Of course not.” He scoffed, then set the papers down and took out a suit and the shoes as you just waited awkwardly, not sure what to do. “Are you just going to watch?” He was teasing you, but there was still an edge to his voice.

“N- no, sorry.” You blushed, turning around and staring at the ground, listening to the sound of clothes rustling behind you and thinking about how you’ve only ever seen his face, neck, hands, and cock- nothing else. The thought made you frown. “Unless it’s okay… then I’d like to watch.” You said quietly and the rustling stopped.

“Why?” His tone was guarded.

“I just- I haven’t seen you yet and you’ve seen all of me.” You explained meekly. “Nevermind, sorry.” You waited anxiously as you heard no movement from the man behind you.

“Go ahead.” He said in a measured tone. You tentatively turned around, finding him in just a pair of dress pants, straight jacket on the floor and shirt in hand. The first thing you noticed was how lean he looks without his suit. The second were the small scars littering his torso. The third was his happy trail, leading down into his pants, teasing you.

“Satisfied?” You looked up at him when you heard his voice, not able to read his expression. When all you could do was nod, his lips curled up into a small smirk. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll fuck you stupid over the desk.” He warned, voice laced with arousal.

“Is that a promise, doctor?” You purred, stepping closer to him, setting the wristband on the desk to have both hands free. He stiffened, but allowed you to move until you were right in front of him. Staring deep into icy blue eyes, you slowly raised your hands, as if you were approaching a wild animal who could attack at any second. His eyes moved to your hands, watching, but he didn’t say anything. So you slowly moved them closer until you could almost feel the heat from his body against your palms. His eyes moved back to yours and you searched them for a deterrent. When you found nothing, you placed your hands on his chest, sliding them down his stomach, making sure not to linger on any scars. You reached his pants and brushed over the button teasingly before snaking them back up his body.

“You’re playing with fire.” He said lowly. Your hands reached his shoulders and you trailed them down his arms. Once you reached his hands, you grabbed the shirt and set it on the desk, then took both of his hands in yours, moving them around your waist.

“On the contrary, Dr. Crane. I’m getting exactly what I want.” You placed your hands on his stomach again to snake around to his back.

“Oh? And what’s that?” He said coyly, playing along.

“You can let me keep teasing you to my heart's content or you can punish me. Either way I win.” You smirked, moving your hands down his back to his pants and following the waist line around his body until they met at the button.

“You think you’ll enjoy however I choose to punish you?” He scoffed.

“You said it yourself, doctor. You don’t want to hurt me. So I’m sure I can take it.” His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight enough to make you wince as he pushed you against the desk.

“Foolish girl. You underestimate my desire to watch you crying and begging for my forgiveness. I have no problem torturing you, in fact, I’ll enjoy it.” You faltered at that. “Does that frighten you?” He asked, tilting his head.

“You don’t scare me anymore.” You said quietly, feeling the arousal in your stomach quickly make its way between your legs.

“That’s not what I asked.” He teased and you swallowed thickly, squirming under his gaze.

“No.” You tried to keep your voice steady.

“Maybe not yet. But I’m sure it will soon.” He reached a hand up to wrap around your neck, squeezing and pulling you forward as your breath hitched. “I don’t have to hurt you to torture you. You should know that by now.” He said quietly, gaze straying to your lips.

“I can take it.” You said, equally as quiet, not even believing the words as they left your mouth.

“You think so?” He cooed and you nodded in response. “I guess we’ll find out then.” He took a step back and you whined at the loss of his touch, reaching out for him. “Pick it up.” He said, gesturing to the straight jacket. Your eyes moved anxiously between him and the garment, hesitating. “This is the only warning I’m giving you— You don’t want me to tell you again.” You leaned down and picked up the straight jacket, then waited for his next command.

“Put it on.”

“Dr. Crane,” You whined, but he raised his brows, making you close your mouth and reluctantly slide it on. He stepped closer again then started buckling the restraints.

“You seem to think that pain is the only form of punishment I’ll inflict. I guess given my history I shouldn’t be surprised but you need to get that idea out of your head right now or things will only get worse for you.” You stared at him with wide eyes but his gaze remained on the task of restraining you. “There are plenty of ways I can punish you.” He said clinically, like a doctor explaining something to a patient. “Like denial, for example. Not just orgasm denial… You can’t touch me either.”

“Please- I’m sorry.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes that did not work at all.

“I bet you are. I bet you’ll say whatever it is you think I want to hear right now. Unfortunately, the only sounds I want from you are moans and cries.” He led you over to the couch and kneeled in front of you to pull down your pants and underwear before having you sit. He discarded your shoes so he could fully remove your clothes, then pulled you forward to the edge of the couch and spread your legs embarrassingly wide.

“I think you also underestimate my patience. I am more than willing to do this as long as it takes.” He started dragging his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you, never getting close to where you wanted him.

“Please.” You whined as your hips started squirming.

“Come now… We haven’t even started and you’re already begging? At least save that until the actual torture begins.”

“Don’t want torture.” You muttered.

“No? I thought you said this would be a win for you? That you can take it.”

“Please.” You whined, much brattier this time— all but throwing a fit.

“There’s that attitude.” He chuckled. “Keep that up. It makes it more fun for me when you break.” His hands snaked up your thighs, then back down, teasing you. You whined and squirmed, but surprisingly, it worked. He moved a hand between your legs, swiftly pushing in two fingers and rapidly curling them against your walls. You let out a choked moan from the sudden pleasure as your head rolled back onto the couch and your hips bucked. He pulled you even farther down the couch, then leaned down and took your clit in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” You said through a moan, hips flinching as he groaned against you in response. Lifting your head to look down at him, you found his eyes already on you, making you blush and squirm under his gaze. After getting so turned on and not coming when you sucked him off before, your orgasm approached quickly. The volume of your moans increased as you started trying to rut against his face. He suddenly pulled back, his fingers halting, making you whine.

“Please, I was so close.” You pouted.

“I know.” He leaned back down, resuming the motions of his fingers as he started working your clit over in his mouth again. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, but you let out a choked sob when he stopped.

“Please!” You cried.

“Shh. Be a good girl and take your punishment.” He muttered before leaning back down and continuing. You weren’t sure how many times you were on the cusp of pleasure before it was ripped away from you, but you knew it was at least five— after that you weren’t able to concentrate on counting through your crying and desperation. He pulled back but continued moving his fingers as you babbled out incoherent pleas.

“I have to admit, my patience is wearing thin so I’ll only keep this up for a little longer.” You sobbed in relief at his words. “Once I’m ready to come, I’m gonna fuck your ass. Remember how much you liked it before? It won’t be nearly as pleasurable this time and you certainly won’t be able to come from it.”

“No- no, please.” You said, panicked. The thought of being empty was enough to intensify your crying. “Please- I don’t care if I don’t come, just please fuck me.” You whimpered.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He said softly, but you just shook your head.

“No, I- I need your cock- please!”

“How do I know you won’t come?” He asked, slowing his fingers to a stop before removing them, making you whimper at the emptiness.

“I won’t! Please- I promise I won’t!” He watched you cry for a moment before cursing under his breath and working on taking his cock out of his pants.

“Can’t fucking say no to you.” He muttered, helping you to lay down on the couch as he crawled over you. The second he pushed in, you let out a relieved sob that turned into a whine when you tried to move your arms.

“Please- I want to touch you. Please let me touch you.” You whimpered, watching the way his brows furrowed as his mouth opened in a silent moan when he was all the way in.

“I can’t, you still need to be punished.” He said breathlessly and you sobbed the hardest you have all night so far.

“Please! Please- I’m sorry!” You cried and he shushed you as he brought a hand up to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

“I know, it’s okay.” He cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you as he slowly started moving. Trailing kisses up your jaw to your ear, he whispered, “You’re doing so well, little one. Making me feel so good.” You sobbed harder at the pet name— not used to such affection from him.

“Oh god,” You moaned, already feeling close again. When he picked up the pace and began kissing and marking your neck, you started panting again. You tried to at least tone down your sobbing a little bit, but after you started, it was really hard to stop.

“Fuck- I’m already close.” He whined, rutting into you desperately now. His hands never left your body as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out quiet moans and shaky breaths. When he stilled with a low groan, your cunt ached at the way his cock was twitching inside you, painting your walls with his come. After a moment, his moans stopped and he was panting heavily into your shoulder. When he started pulling out, you sobbing intensified.

“No! Please- please don’t- not yet.” You whimpered.

“I need to get this off of you.” He said, lifting his head from your neck to look at the straight jacket.

“I don’t care- just please don’t leave yet.” You cried.

“Okay- It’s okay. Sit up like this.” He maneuvered you so that he was sitting on the couch and you were straddling his hips, his cock never leaving you. He started working on the straight jacket, unbuckling all of it until he could slip it off if you and toss it on the floor. Now that your hands were free, you realized that you couldn’t even do anything with them, not without making him uncomfortable. So you continued crying.

“Okay, just- come here.” He muttered, pulling you down to lay on his chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders tight as you turned your cheek, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his skin. His hands fumbled around for a moment before eventually settling on your hips and you knew that he was probably miserable right now. Honestly you’re surprised he didn’t just throw you off of him instead.

“I’m sorry- I…” He shushed you, not letting you continue babbling out apologies.

“Just breathe.” He said softly and you couldn’t help but obey. You let out a slow shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. “That’s it. Just focus on breathing. You did so well for me, I’m very proud.” You let out another quiet sob at the praise and shushed you again as he moved a hand up to your hair, lightly stroking it to soothe you.

“You’re okay.” He said softly. “Just breathe— you’re okay.”

Part 9

(For the sake of the plot, bestie is no longer taking oral contraceptives because he had her get an iud or something back in Arkham lol)

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow #exposure therapy

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jhoneybees · 5 months

Text

Little Nurse in Charge

Finally I'm posting another fic! I've been really missing the experience of writing so I'm getting my fogged up brain to work again lol there might be a few errors and misspelt words😅

Characters: Late60s/70sCG! Elvis X little!reader

Warnings/triggers: Age regression, little lifestyle, sickness

This is honestly my favourite moodboard🥹👇

Elvis had a long, stressful week. His schedule was hectic, being rushed from one place to another and doing a lot of recording and such was really taking a toll on him. You being his beloved partner, you worry about him. Everytime you would suggest for him to get some rest, he’d just brush it off and say he can handle it in which seeing him fall asleep in a millisecond the moment he flops onto the bed after a jam-packed day at the recording studio tells you otherwise.

Once Elvis finally gets some time off, the next morning he wakes up sore all over also having a scratchy throat, clicking his tongue in annoyance when he realises. Detangling himself out of the bedsheets , he pushes on the mattress with his knuckles and makes his way to the bathroom to find something for this “stupid cold” he mutters to himself, he stops in his tracks when he hears you stir in your sleep. Turning his head, Elvis watches your eyes flutter open, blinking blankly at him a few times before your eyebrows start to furrow and a pout forms. He sighs softly, you woke up little. Elvis pinches the bridge of his nose whilst resting a hand on his hip. How is he gonna take care of his sick self while also looking after little you? He already feels like a sack of potatoes that's been knocked about on the back of a farm truck so having to make sure your needs are met is gonna be a tough challenge, he never says no to being a caregiver for you though, he always takes up the challenge.

Elvis walks back over to the bed when you do grabby hands and he weakly chuckles “Mornin’ baby” leaning down to kiss your forehead, you respond wiggling closer to him and wrapping tired limp arms around his lower abdomen. Elvis smiles and strokes a strand of hair away from your face “Did ya get a good sleep?” answering with a small nod “Good sleep, daddy” you say while burying your face in the side of his thigh making him chuckle but he suddenly clears his throat which you didn't take notice of. “Did Daddy have a good sleep?” you ask quietly, Elvis cocks his head to the side and stares at the wall, letting out a hum as he thinks “Not really, Daddy's not feelin' too good this Mornin'” looking back, he sees a worried frown from you “Why?” questioning as you decide to sit up and Elvis smoothing your hair down. “Hm just sore and achy, baby” your concern grows, no matter if you're little or not, you always made sure Elvis is alright which sounds like he isn't, your eyes leave his to stare down at the duvet on the bed, the little crease between your eyebrows prominent as you process the situation.

Suddenly your eyes light up with an idea and you quickly scurry out of bed, pushing Elvis’ chest with your little hands “Lay down Daddy, lay down” you order and Elvis frowns in confusion “um sure.. but- why baby?” Doing what he's told, swinging his legs onto the bed and resting his head on the head board. You try to give him an authorised look but just ended up looking like an angry baby to Elvis, he chuckles slightly before he nods and raises his eyebrows at you “Daddy's sick, I- I'm look after him” explaining your plans to your daddy making him smile nervously “U-um that's real sweet of ya honey but i-i- don't think that's a good idea..” usually when you're little, Elvis would do everything for you since you just make a mess or have accidents that end up you crying or getting injured but you just shake your head “uh uh no daddy, nigh nighs’ “ telling him to just go to sleep and let you do your thing which he hesitantly accepts and gets comfortable under the covers. Elvis watching you run out of the bedroom and hearing your sooties scattering down the stairs, he laughs to himself at your funny behaviour.

After some time you arrive back through the bedroom doors with the first aid box that Elvis keeps in one of the kitchen cabinets for whenever you hurt yourself or get sick, a bit confused how you retrieved it since it's kept in a place out of your reach “H-how did you get that?” Elvis sits up and points a finger, you look at him with a pout and set the box on the bedside table “No Daddy nigh nighs!” completely ignoring his question and you push on his chest to make him lay down, Elvis sighs “Okay okay, I'm going nighs nighs, I'm goin'' closing his eyes and sighs.

As he tries to relax, Elvis begins to hear clinking of medicine bottles and ruffling of plastic packaging so out of curiosity he opens his eyes and cranes his neck “What are you doing honey?” Huffing out a breath you whine “daddy!” Elvis raising his hands in defeat “Okay alright alright, sorry” he rests his head down on the pillow again. A few moments later, a pair of hands caresses his hair away from his forehead and your voice quietly babbling “Daddy go nighs nighs..sleepy sleepy… puppy wittle puppy” Elvis's lips curve at the corners, stifling a laugh by adjusting himself in bed so he wouldn't ruin the moment for you. Your sweet nature of always looking out for people is one of things that made Elvis think he had to have you because how can he not? Of course because he's Elvis Presley but also because why not have someone like you? Someone so sweet and kind, babying him with all your love, all your devotion. What's not to love?

He sighs again as you continue to sing a lullaby that is obviously made up “Sleepy puppy…sleepy, sleepy, sleepy” The more you sing your little song, Elvis falls into a floaty sleep, soon drifting off. Bringing the covers up to his chin, you hum softly as your attention turns to the first aid box, your little hands hovering over the tops of the medicine bottles and paper boxes filled with bandages and other things that your little brain doesn't have a clue what they're used for. Picking up a thermometer, you cautiously move the blanket from Elvis' arm and slide it under his armpit. Taking a quiet step back, your eyes watch Elvis’ sleeping face with adoration and love. You’re just so lucky to have him as your caregiver, your daddy.

After a somewhat comfortable nap, Elvis wakes up. Looking around the room to find you’re not there, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard and lets out a breathy chuckle when he notices a thermometer under his armpit and shaking his head seeing your favourite stuffie being a white bunny laying next to him, thinking you must’ve put it there for him to feel less lonely.

He turns his head at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open to see you holding a tray with a bowl and spoon, pursing your lips with concentration to not spill anything. “What’s that baby?” Elvis chuckles quietly. A relieved breath emits, you place the tray on his lap “I ask Mary to make you soup!” you state proudly. With a calm nod and a loving smile, Elvis’ heart clenches “Aww… Thank you hon, that’s real sweet of ya” giggling like a schoolgirl, you climb onto the bed next to him and pick up the spoon “Hey, I- I can feed myself darlin” Elvis laughs nervously, watching as you hold the spoon near his mouth. You shake your head and whine “No! Open!” with yet another defeated sigh Elvis opens his mouth letting you spoon feed him. Even though Elvis feels nervous and on edge about you taking care of him, he does find it nice to just let you do what you want since you’re a calm little but of course still need to be disciplined now and again.

As you feed Elvis the last spoonful, you gently pat a napkin to the corners of his mouth, earning a chuckle “Always taking good care of Daddy hm?” poking at your sides playfully, you laugh and gently push his hands away. After Elvis moves the tray onto his bedside table, you decide to snuggle up with him under the blankets. Grinning softly as he sees you nuzzling your head against his chest and holding your favourite toy bunny tightly to yours. “Thank you for looking after me, little” he smiles.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis imagine #i love him #elvis presley x reader #little!reader #cg!elvis #please brain.. work for me..please

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treysimp · 2 years

Note

You can ignore this if you're not taking requests but your recent Ace x reader fic got me thinking...what about Ace and Floyd being wingmen for Jamil with reader?? Cause they're the basketball club who does anything but basketball 😂

Backboard - GN!Reader/Jamil Viper (Explicit)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Reader’s body not described nor are pronouns used (things are described as going in holes without specifics lol), mutual pining, grinding, heavy petting, kissing, dirty talk, talk of penetration, ask to tag for more.

Words: 3.3k

Silly author’s notes: Hey so this was probably a fluff request but uhhhh it became uhh smutty by accident so... oops?

Want more TWST? Here’s my masterlist!

“Prefect!” Yelled a familiar voice behind you. Before you could turn around to see who it was, you felt two different hands clap onto each of your shoulders.

With a blur of teal and ginger, you felt yourself being swept away to who knows where while Ace and Floyd bicker about their club.

“So I was sayin’...” Ace coughed stiffly, glaring at Floyd as his jaw tightened “...what was I saying, Floyd?”

“Oh!” Floyd nodded, “You were saying…” He tilted his head to the side in a look of confusion and not-at-all-subtly was mouthing words to Ace.

Snapping your gaze to your redheaded friend, you missed the first part of the sentence, but you could make out Ace mouthing the words ‘you idiot’.

“I’m clearly missing something.” You say, trying to dig in your heels to stop your two troublemaking friends from continuing to orchestrate your kidnapping.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that!” Floyd whined, “We just wanted you to watch us practice! Finals are coming up and Jamil’s been on our asses about improving.”

“And that involves me how?” You say, crossing your arms but allowing them to start walking you again. You had a huge crush on the hardworking and clever Jamil, not that you would ever admit it to anyone. If the smirks on Ace and Floyd’s faces were anything to go by, though... you might not have been as subtle as you hoped.

“He’s nicer to us when you’re watching!” Ace said with a grin, “Come on, don’t you want to do this for your besties?”

“Yeah, shrimpy! We’re besties!”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that I am the bestie, Floyd.”

“If you’re the bestie, how come I’m the one that got slapped by them the other day?”

“Floyd!” You exclaimed, “I told you that was an accident! You surprised me!”

You had slapped Floyd across the face two days ago when he had jumped out and screamed bloody murder as you were walking out of the bathroom. Fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and you learned that day that apparently you are a ‘fight’ person. Floyd’s reaction was to cackle and then pretend to run and cry to Jade, who teased that he was disappointed that you had only slapped Floyd and not him yet.

Dangerous, both of them.

The three of you had finally reached the gym, so it seemed like that particular thread was going to be left forgotten. Grabbing your hand, Ace pulled you inside.

“Jamil! Look who wants to watch us practice!” He exclaimed, holding your hand up in the air like a referee calling a boxing match.

Jamil’s face did not show even the slightest change of emotion while he stared at Ace. “You’re both ten minutes late, you know.”

“Yeah yeah, but we’re here now, right? Let’s get practicing!” Floyd said playfully, grabbing one of the discarded basketballs off the ground and biting his tongue while he tried to spin it on the tip of his finger. Well, you supposed that was a kind of basketball practice.

“Uh, if you’d rather only club members be here, Jamil, I don’t want to bother you.” You offered. You would rather stay, but not at the cost of annoying him, even if Ace saying that he was nicer around you made your heart flutter.

Jamil sighed, his neutral expression falling into a gentle smile.

“You are fine to stay, if you wish. I very much doubt that you were brought here only of your own volition.” He said, side-eyeing Floyd and Ace who had gotten distracted enough within seconds to be horsing around and making repeated missed shots at the home team hoop. Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Did he really always have to play babysitter?

“Go ahead and take a seat, Prefect.” Jamil said, lightly touching your elbow to steer you towards the bleachers. You go to sit, unconsciously stroking the skin that his fingertips had just ghosted by. This was going to be bad for your heart, you could already tell.

There was a strange dynamic between the three at practice, you could tell that they were all talking to each other while playing, all three pairs of eyes darting between each other and sometimes even making it your way. Both Floyd and Ace had been going out of their way to talk to you and were being strangely flirty. They were calling out that shots were ‘for you’, winking at you, saying things like ‘if I get three baskets can we go out on Saturday’, or walking off the side of the court to talk to you while everyone else continued to play. It was not your usual dynamic, and it was very confusing.

Jamil however, looked pissed. He was playing a great game, especially since the ever mercurial and unnecessarily tall Floyd was playing seriously for once. There was a flurry of movement, sneakers squeaking on the court, the echo of the ball bouncing and every so often you would catch a word of one of the boys’ mysterious conversations. Unfortunately the only part so far you were able to glean were the words ‘cute’ and ‘fuck you’, so… not much in the way of success so far.

Practice went on that way for a while and then came to an early close. Since Ace and Floyd were late and the second years had a big test coming up, they were leaving early. You decided that the least you could do is help pick up, so you volunteered to help Jamil put all of the equipment away. He gave you another soft smile and thanked you, showing you the equipment closet and instructing you on where everything went.

You thought that Ace and Floyd would have left by now, but they were huddled together and whispering, which frankly made you nervous. Jamil called you back to reality as he got your help to grab the last of the practice gear and hauled it into the closet, letting out a sigh as you finally got everything put away.

“So Jamil, do you…” You began, but you were interrupted by the lights turning off and the door slamming shut with a loud clack. The distinctive laughter of two of your new best frenemies rang from behind the closed entryway and the sounds of loud running footsteps got quieter and quieter.

Those assholes.

Jamil was closer to the exit than you were, and you could hear him rattling the door while trying to turn the handle.

“It’s locked,” Jamil groaned while burying his head in his hands. He didn’t trust those impulsive assholes for one second, and they still got him with this elementary-level setup. “And the light switch is on the outside.”

You walked uneasily forward and called for Jamil softly, your shoulders relaxing as soon as you felt the warmth of his arm. You tried to look at his face, but it was just a bit too dark.

The darkness was actually lucky for Jamil, because that meant that you would only see outlines of shapes rather than see him grinding yet another layer of tooth enamel off in stress. He was going to strangle those boys with his bare hands.

Okay Jamil, breathe. You can get out of this. He inhaled slowly and exhaled on an eight count. Calm. Calm. Collected and calm.

“I’m so sorry you got wrapped up in their pranks,” Jamil said, sighing as he rubbed the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion. The good mood he had from having you helping him significantly dampened.

“I don’t mind an excuse to spend time with you, even if I wish the circumstances were a little more fun.” You said with a bubbling laugh.

Your laugh sounded like a chime in the spring, it felt like a fresh breeze caressing Jamil’s burning skin. You were going to be the death of him.

How was he supposed to focus on finding a way out of this escape room when all he wanted was for it to be even smaller so he would have another excuse to feel the brush of your cool fingertips on his boiling body?

He had been dying for the entirety of practice, having to listen to Floyd and Ace try to egg him on by talking about how cute you were and how they were going to steal you away if he didn’t make a move. They had been offering to ‘wingman’ for him as soon as they had realized that he seemed to have a soft spot for you, but he had refused the offer.

Apparently, they had decided to go ahead and take matters into their own hands anyway. Idiots.

Jamil is snapped out of that thought by a loud clatter further in the supply closet, accompanied by your voice letting out a yelp, then followed quickly by a loud expletive and more noises.

“You okay?” He asked into the darkness, blindly walking forward while waving his hands warily in front of him. The closet wasn’t that big, but there was enough junk in it to make it a bit of a maze.

“Yeah!” You reply with a slight hint of frustration, “I was just trying to see if there was anything useful in here but…” A groan, a shuffle, and your voice sounded quite a bit nearer, “That was a bust.”

You sighed, “My phone is in my bag so I don’t have a flashlight. I’m guessing yours is also?” You asked, wanting to kick yourself for not keeping your phone in your pocket for once.

“Same.” Jamil chuckled sardonically and began reaching out his hands in the direction of your voice. “Maybe we should work together, huh?”

“Probably. That’s why you’re the famous genius, Jamil.” You said teasingly, feeling along the wall to where it sounded like Jamil was.

Jamil was going to combust if you complimented him like that again.

He scoffed, “Is the otherworldly non-magical yet still straight-A Ramshackle Prefect, really going to try and call me the famous one?”

It sounded like Jamil was almost right in your ear now. You decided to use that to your advantage. Your eyes had adjusted just slightly, and you were pretty sure you could see the barest outline of the handsome sorcerer you were trapped with.

You quietly sneak behind him and snake your arms around his waist, feeling his entire body stiffen under your touch.

God, he was so cute. Your next sentence was breathily whispered over the shell of his ear.

“I mean if one of us should have a fan club it’s you. How do I sign up?” You murmur, taking joy in the quiet gasp that fell out of Jamil’s mouth. “You're always so busy, how do you keep it up?”

It was taking every well-trained muscle of his body to not start shaking in a mixture of intoxicatingly new and intriguing emotions your touch gave him.

“You should be a little more careful in the dark, you know? You did just fall after all.” He mumbled, waiting for a moment for you to relax and reply to his light jab.

He felt your arms loosen as you began an undoubtedly sassy reply. Jamil took the opportunity to spin around and pin you against the wall. One palm next to your head and the other next to your hips. He could just barely see the cheeky grin on your face. Were you messing with him?

“You should also be careful when it comes to playing with others,” he hissed, pressing his body closer to yours, the sweet scent of dried Scarbian flowers escaping from the fabric of his clothing.

You felt dizzy from the almost touch, the enthralling smell of him, the heat of his gaze. Would it be too forward to just pull the clothes off of him with no explanation? Well, yes obviously, but should you do it anyway? While you were mulling this over, you felt warm breath fanning over your lips.

“Jamil?” You asked shakily, feeling the body heat of the man in front of you seeping below your skin.

“Yes?” He replied, moistening his lips with a lick of his tongue.

“Can I touch you?” You nearly whimper, desperate to close the millimeters of space between the two of you as soon as possible.

Jamil barely makes out the start of a “yes“ before you were on him, devouring him with kisses for dear life. It felt like you had waited years to feel him, to taste him, to explore the soft cavern of his mouth with your own. You listened to his moans and gasps for air like a symphony made just for the two of you.

The darkness added to the thrill of exploration as you felt your way across his body: his gorgeously defined shoulders, the flexibly sleek muscles of his chest, his abdomen.

It was so sudden, you both had barely even talked today, but your eyes had been burning into him as you had daydreamed for the past hour about how much you wanted to put your hands on him and make him speak your name.

Watching him focused on the court, the way his hair would fly in the air as he would duck and weave like the finest silk, the glint in his eyes when he would see an opening, and the dangerous grin that would grow on his face when he took advantage of the opponents single moment of weakness to their doom. You would stare at him, his smile wide, his perfectly smooth complexion gleaming with sweat, just a hint of scarlet on the tips of his ears and the ends of his fingers from the exertion. Laughing in joy for securing that final point they needed to win the match. How could you not be enthralled by him?

You thought of how the world seemed to stop spinning when he danced, how wide he would smile, the crease of his eyes, the sway of his hips. He was intoxicating.

And now, he held your chin in his hand, gently guiding your head back against the wall he had the rest of your body pinned against, his other hand cushioning the back of your head from the hard surface. Pupils blown wide, chest heaving.

Jamil worried that he might be dreaming and would wake up any second now. He moved closer to your body again, unwilling to miss out on a second of feeling your skin before he awoke. If this was a dream, then he would make sure to take every advantage. If this was reality, then he would just need to thank his lucky stars for the opportunity as soon as he could.

Moving his lips down the shell of your ear, he traced his tongue down from your lobe to the base of your neck. Jamil’s knees almost buckled in overwhelm as he heard you moan his name while you threaded your fingers at the nape of his neck and pressed your body against him as hard as you could. He pushed you flush to that goddamn wall, scraping his teeth on your soft skin onto your pulse point as you gasped and murmured praises for him, scratching at his back with your nails and pulling at the roots of his hair.

It felt like he was on fire, it felt like the world would end the second that you were no longer touching him. He needed more, he needed every last drop of your affection that you would give him. Kissing a path back to your face, Jamil smoothed his tongue over yours as he gave your soft appendage a strong suck, pumping your tongue with his mouth as the messy kisses and overwhelming sensations caused your lips to redden and swell from the rough contact.

You separate for air and stare at his almond eyes in a daze. The brief thought that he could ask you to do anything at this moment without even bothering to hypnotize you first and you would do it without question. Jamil’s hands had begun exploring more of your body, squeezing at your chest, stroking his thumbs over your hip bones, tracing the curve of your ass. He would map out every inch of your body until he had memorized it, this was only the beginning after all.

You pushed your fingers under the hem of Jamil’s shirt and started tracing the lines between his stomach and his hips, kissing up and down his jaw and whispering how beautiful he was, how long you had wanted to touch him, and how lucky you were.

This seems to have gotten him worked up faster than anything yet. Jamil balled up your shirt in his fists to pull you back for breathless kisses, telling you how much he wanted to feel you, how your every action affected him so, and the sheer amount of times he had seen you look into his eyes and smile and how he had to do everything in his power to not pull you away to his room to fuck you right there. Shove himself inside of your shaking frame as his fingers trace the shape of your tongue to make sure that you don’t get too loud. Permanently indent the shape of his fingertips into the divots of your hips as he slams into you over and over, praising your name like you had both been made for the express purpose of being with each other.

You wished he had, but it wasn’t too late to start.

You shamelessly told him the details of how you would touch yourself to the thought of him at night, stroking, bucking, biting your lip near bleeding from the imagined sensation of him, his cock, and the repeated sensation of your bodies meeting over and over as you both screamed each other’s names so loud that your voices would be hoarse the next day.

You felt like you could burst from this heavy petting and erotic descriptions of your collective fantasies alone. You already knew that he was perfect, but you had never been this aroused before in your whole life. You needed relief, you needed him.

“Jamil…” You breathe out, feeling Jamil’s lithely muscled arms envelop you in a desperate embrace, clearly trying to resist (and then immediately failing) to grind his hips against you in a desperate bid for relief from the flames that were clawing their way out of his body inch by inch.

You were so aroused right now, you didn’t know what to do. Unfortunately for the two of you, there was an audible shuffle and a knock outside the locked door and both you and Jamil’s heads snapped up, separating from each other in surprise.

A sliver of light flooded in from the door, and Ace and Floyd’s giggles floated in along with it.

“Sea snake? Shrimpy? You alive?” Floyd called, snapping the lights on while you and Jamil grimaced and covered your eyes from the bright lights.

Jamil didn’t answer, he just held his head high as he plastered on a fake smile, pulling you along with him to the door.

“Ace? Floyd?” Jamil began, tilting his head to the side in a closed-eyed grin.

“Yeah, Jamil?” Ace beamed, scratching the back of his head like he was a kind samaritan waiting to be thanked for their act of charity.

“You two are the dumbest motherfuckers alive. Go run laps until your legs give out.”

Both Floyd and Ace’s expressions went slack, and the two boys nodded and began sprinting outside. You looked at Jamil quizzically.

“Did you just…?”

“They’ll be fine, they need the exercise anyway,” Jamil replied slyly, his fake smile melting away into a genuine one.

“So are we going to your room or mine, gorgeous?” He cooed, leaning to place a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You went to his.

What TreySimp? A plot got away from you? How shocking! How novel!

Okay anyway Jamil is a babe he is a hottie I love him etc etc etc I am insufferable with my 500 fictional boyfriends sue me

Let me know what else y'all wanna see. Love you, reader!

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