#up til high school anyway

[osshisan]

people who can just eat anything they want and not suffer in the physical and mental consequences: what’s that like

[lukas-du-mortain]

W.I.P. Wednesday

Tagged by @serenpedac

Finally noticing how lethargic he is, Lukas slowly pulls himself upright along the wall. He feels his way to the tiny bathroom, where he proceeds to splash water on his face. Ice cold water grips and drags his mind back to its senses. Maybe he should go back? Guilt wrecks his body, because at the end of the day wasn't it his fault for leaving? Questions race through his mind. Uncertainty pushes through his body as he looks at his reflection in the mirror. Maybe if he went back and apologized for the screaming match, his life would go back to normal; right? Perhaps he could work hard and gain his reputation back, earn his credibility back. After all, it was his fault wasn't it?

What-ifs and hypothetical scenarios play in his head like a fast paced movie. One where the protagonist is faced with such uneasiness of their future survival. Lukas grips the cracked ivory porcelain sink in front of the mirror, his fingers wrapped around its edges so tightly his knuckles begin to blend in with the color of the sink. Nearly 10 years of his life has culminated to this moment, alone and broken and desperate in a broken down apartment. He has nothing left, nothing except what small belongings and clothes he could fit into two duffel bags. No car, no home. He has money but in Vancouver, $1000 in his savings won't last long. Should he go back, tail between his legs and beg for money?

No. He can't. It would just start the same vicious cycle all over again. Lukas would end up back here in the end. Bobby had taken everything from him. Lukas was left with the consequences of Bobby's actions, as usual, and it ruined him.

[quaranmine]

literally i am so sick of acne set me free from this hell already please why do i have to live in constant pain

[keeksandgigz]

somewhere we can be alone

stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader

a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3

summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.

word count: 7.7k words

warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot

This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.

“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”

He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.

“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.

The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.

He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.

“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”

And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.

“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.

“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.

The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.

Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.

He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.

Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.

“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.

A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”

Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.

He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.

He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.

“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.

“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?

Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.

The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.

“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.

Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.

“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.

“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”

With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.

Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”

His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.

Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.

Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.

He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.

And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.

Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.

So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.

Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX

Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.

So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.

“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.

“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.

He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.

Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.

Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.

“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.

“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.

“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.

Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.

“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.

“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.

Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.

“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.

So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.

Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.

But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.

So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.

By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.

You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.

“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.

Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.

You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.

“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.

“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.

“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.

“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.

“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.

“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.

“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.

“N-No,” you whimper.

“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.

“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.

“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”

You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.

You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”

You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”

Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”

His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.

Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.

He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.

From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.

“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.

“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.

“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.

“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”

“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.

“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.

His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.

“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.

“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.

So close, so close–

He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.

“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.

The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.

You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.

His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.

You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.

And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.

If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.

Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.

You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.

“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.

“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.

“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”

You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?

“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.

A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.

“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.

“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.

“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.

He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.

“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”

And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.

That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”

Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.

His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.

He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.

“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.

“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”

He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.

“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”

You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.

“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.

And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.

You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.

“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.

So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?

He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.

Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.

You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.

Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.

He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.

“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.

“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.

Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.

“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.

“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.

“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.

“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.

“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.

“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.

“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.

Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.

“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”

You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.

It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.

But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.

“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.

“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.

“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.

You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.

“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.

You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.

As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.

Just you and him. In his van.

You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.

“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.

Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.

Opening night. It’s finally here.

You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?

Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.

Break a leg Juliet xx.

You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.

You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.

You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.

“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.

“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.

“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.

“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.

“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.

“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.

You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”

“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.

“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.

“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.

“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.

You seem unconvinced, still.

“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.

Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.

“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.

“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.

His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.

A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.

He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.

He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.

A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.

A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.

“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.

You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.

“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.

“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.

You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.

“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.

A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.

Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.

“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.

Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.

You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.

You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.

The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.

You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.

“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.

“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.

“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.

“So, how about that date?”

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski

[tootiecakes234]

You and Katsuki are laying in the bed at the end of the day.

“So anyways, I found out that one of my coworkers has 5 kids from 6 different men.”

“Mmm”

“Right!! Now let me explain… the first one she had with her high school sweet heart. They were together for 4 years and it didn’t work out because he cheated. The bastard.”

“Mmm”

“Exactly. Now the second and third one are where the story takes the turn”

“Y/N can you not see that I’m trying to go to sleep?”

“Yes but I gotta tell you this story Kat. It blew my freaking mind. People’s lives are insane.”

“Ya story can wait til tomorrow. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“You didn’t even go to work today and it’s only 9oclock. You should be wide awake and ready to listen to me.”

“Well I spent the day with Deku and all he did was talk my ear off. I can’t listen anymore. So please… shut up.”

“Ugh fine. You suck.

“Night”

……..

*whispered* “long story short one of the guys took the responsibility upon himself and adopted all 5 of the kids….. the problem is, they are getting a divorce now and he wants to keep them! Isn’t that wild?!?- where are you going”

“To sleep on the couch”

“You’re so dramatic! I was done with the story anyway! Kit Kat come back.”

Katsuki Masterlist

[david-watts]

having been scalded with far-too-hot-water, I’ve remembered why I hate washing up

[horrorxweasley]

gojo and fem reader are best friends with a heavy sexual relationship— like so bad that when Satoru sees his bestie all his blood rushes to his cock. add a lil jealousy to that to spice it up

More than friends

Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, MDNI, Jealous Sex, Oral (male receiving), Choking, Dom/Sub, Bondage/Restraints

Word Count: 2,638K

Summary: Y/N and Satoru are best friends….with benefits. None of their other friends know this, so when they all go out to the mall and Geto starts flirting with Y/N, Gojo gets heated and wants to show her who she belongs to.

A/N: I LOVE THIS IDEA THANKS FOR THE REQUEST ANON!!!! Hope you enjoy :))

Masterlist

Taglist

Ko-fi

It was a nice bright and sunny day in Tokyo, and it was a weekend which meant one thing. No school! Y/N, Gojo, Geto and Shoko were out on a trip to the mall for a well deserved break from school. The four had been friends since their first year at Jujitsu High, Y/N was a transfer student at the time but soon found her peace with these crazy three. 

Y/N and Shoko were leading the way, laughing at whatever they were talking about. It was good to get a bit of girl time while Gojo and Geto struggled behind carrying you and Shoko’s bags. There weren’t that many, you’re convinced they're just being dramatic. 

Gojo and Geto didn’t mind really, they were just putting it on. Part of their “cool guy” personalities you know? Gojo couldn’t concentrate on anything other than staring at you anyways, he could feel the blood rushing to his cock just from the sight of you. He had to quickly cover his crotch with the bags he was carrying, suppressing a blush. As you and Gojo had been secretly fucking behind closed doors for quite some time. Not dating, no, just fucking. Sometimes Gojo would often dream that you two were actually dating, he would love to show you off, spoil you, kiss you freely without fear of getting caught. He often wondered if you felt the same way. 

“Guys! That new ramen bar is open just down to the right!” Y/N yells back at the boys “Lets go try it!”. Ramen was always your favourite, you would eat it 3 times a day, breakfast, lunch and dinner if you could. “Yeah sure, I'm getting quite hungry myself anyways, what about you Satoru?” Geto asks, “Yeah I'm down” Gojo smiles looking straight at you. 

The four of you were sitting in the booth at the new Ramen place. Get was sitting next to you, Gojo across from you and Shoko next to him. Normally you sat next to Gojo but he decided he wanted to look at you as he ate this time round. 

“My my Y/N, not often I get to sit next to such a pretty lady such as yourself” Geto purred next to you, playfully flirting due to the change in normal seating arrangement. You almost choke on your ramen as he says this stifling a laugh clearly knowing that he was being playful. 

“I could say the same for you, sitting next to such a handsome strong man” You smirked leaning onto his shoulder. Both of you are smiling and chuckling slightly. Shoko laughed along with you as well, you knew she had a thing for Geto but at least she wasn’t jealous of your playful flirting. 

Gojo on the other hand was faking a smile as he continued to eat his ramen. He knew it was just a joke but hearing you talk that way to another man, never mind that man being Geto of all people, stuck something inside of him that made him unbelievably jealous. If his eyes weren’t such a bright blue you couldn't have sworn they would turn red with rage. Geto put his arm around you kissing you on the head laughing. This image continued to play in Gojos mind for the rest of the day. 

Once you had all finished eating your ramen til you were so full you could barely move. You all agreed it was time for you all to head back to your apartments. Geto and Shoko lived in the opposite direction as you and Gojos apartments. So half way back you both said your goodbyes to each other.

“Goodbye beautiful” Geto winked, blowing you a kiss. You pretended to catch the kiss and put it in your pocket “Bye Suguruuuu” you sang. Then you hug Shoko goodbye before turning round and beginning the silent walk home with Gojo by your side. 

Once you got back to your apartment, you were expecting to turn round to say goodbye to Gojo but instead found him following you into your home. Although you weren’t expecting this it wasn’t at all unusual for Gojo to join you in your home after a day out. So you let him follow you in without a question. 

As soon as you lock the door behind you, Gojo drops your bags (you forgot he was carrying) and pins you to the door. Your eyes widen as he does this, “Toru?” you begin to talk but Gojo cuts you off with his hand over your mouth, a whine leaving you as he does this. 

“What was that all about back there with Suguru huh? You're just gonna whore yourself out to anyone now?” He growls. 

“I-it was just for show Toru, we don’t actually feel that way for each other”

“Is that right? Seemed pretty convincing to me” He was clearly angry and hurt.

“Why do you even care, it's not like we’re dating”

“Oh i wanna change that real fucking soon darling, but first i’m gonna fuck you”

Gojo’s lips crashed down onto yours before you could even protest. The sweet taste of him coating your lips causes you to melt into the kiss. He had one hand on the back of your neck, the other on your waist as he pinned you to the door with his body. Your hands were laying on his muscular chest, gripping onto his t-shirt. 

Gojo forced his tongue into your mouth, shoving it so far down your throat you gag a little bit. That noise drives him even more crazy. You feel your knees buckle from beneath you and Gojo takes advantage of this, lifting you up easily as if you were nothing. His hands rested under your ass as your legs wrapped around his waist as you made out. 

Gojo growled and moaned into your mouth as he could feel your heat just resting over his crotch. All these noises coming from your best friend were sending you into a place you've never been before, your panties were so incredibly wet they could probably rip in half. 

The soft feeling of the bed hit your back as Gojo threw you, instantly climbing on top of you only breaking your kiss to take a breath every now and then. “Fuck Y/N, y’make me go crazy” Gojo moans onto your mouth. You could feel his hard cock through his trousers pushing down onto you, it hurt slightly due to how big he was, but it was a pain you craved when he wasn’t around. 

His touch felt like lightning against your skin as he pulled your shirt over your head, almost ripping it with desperation. Skillfully taking your bra off with one hand discarding all of your clothing onto the floor. Leaving you and only you, naked and vulnerable, just how Gojo liked you. Gojo stands up from the bed and knowing your place you stand lying down. 

“Fuck look at you” he laughs “you’re fucking beautiful you know that?” 

His sincerity almost made you tear up as you watched his bright blue eyes swim all over your naked form. 

“And you’re all fucking mine, you got that whore?” his eyes darken as his jealousy over earlier today begins to front. 

Gojo walks over to the drawer in your bedroom where you keep all of your toys. He skims the contents for a few minutes before pulling out a stretcher bar and handcuffs. The stretcher bar clips on to your ankles to keep your legs spread wide open. Gojo approaches you with the restraints smirking darkly at you. He forces your legs apart and straps you into the stretcher bar, then trails his hand up your body making you shiver before handcuffing you. You stare up at Gojo, his bright eyes glowing in the dimly lit room. 

“Who owns you?” 

“Y-you do ‘Toru” 

“Good girl” he purrs

He begins to strip from his clothes. Starting with his shirt, pulling it over his head, his muscles flexing as he does so. Gojo was fit, really fit, his abs were so defined it had you drooling. Then his trousers, he brought his fingers down to the zip and slowly pulled it down, he knew what he was doing, he was teasing you. You whine at his teasing and he chuckles in response. He drops his trousers and all that's left is his boxers, his hard cock begging to be released from behind the fabric. 

“Take them off…please” you say, squeezing your legs together trying to get some sort of friction from the sight before you.

“So impatient” he laughs

His boxers fall to the floor releasing his cock, it hits his lower stomach with a slap. You moan at the sight, the tip of his cock, red and dripping with precum. 

“Gonna be a good girl f’me and suck my cock?” 

All you can do is nod your head, not wanting to waste time on words, you needed him and you needed him now. Gojo laughs at your patheticness and walks over to the bed. He pulls you to the edge, hanging your head over the side of the bed, at the perfect height for him to shove his cock down your throat. 

“Go on, open that pretty little mouth for me” 

As soon as you do, Gojo thrusts into your mouth, slowly pushing until you take all of him. You can feel his tip hit the back of your throat and you gag. Gojo moans loudly at this, your warm mouth feels so good around him. It had been weeks since you last hooked up and you were both desperate for any type of action making you sensitive for each movement. 

“Oh my - fuck Y/N you take my cock so fucking well in that pretty mouth of yours” 

He grabs onto the sides of your head, grasping your hair slightly to help him thrust into your mouth. The wet noises of your spit covering him echoes around the room. You manage to tap Gojos leg to indicate to him that you needed air. He pulled out of you, letting go of your head. 

“Awww was that too much for you to handle, needed a breath of fresh air did you?”

You can only nod as you are gasping for air, normally you can take him no problem but the angle means you are being suffocated by his balls each time he thrust into you fully. Gojo flipped you back round onto the bed properly and climbed on top of you. He quickly smashed his lips against yours, he could taste himself on your tongue. The vibrations from his groans shaking through your whole body. Complete euphoria is what you were feeling, it felt like you were on cloud nine. 

“M’gonna fuck you now, m’gonna fuck you til you can’t even think straight, teach you a lesson” he growled into your ear sending shivers down your spine. 

Gojo pulls at your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin most likely leaving bruises, bruises that would show others who you belong to. He swipes the tip of his cock through your folds, lubing himself up before he slams into your hole. 

“Nhhhhgg FUCK TORU” 

You weren’t expecting him to be so rough, he’s normally always so gentle…….you liked it. His cock moulded perfectly with your insides, it was like you were made for him. Gojo was big, very big and with just how rough he was benign you could already tell he was bruising your cervix, walking would definitely be a challenge tomorrow. 

Your mind was so foggy as he pounded into you, it was hard to think of anything other than him. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head now and then, almost dipping out of consciousness with Gojos hand round your throat, pressing at just the right pressure. One of Gojo’s favourite sights was his hand round your throat. He could see that you were unable to think straight, he was fucking the thoughts out of you and he loved it. He loved how much dominance he had over you and how you just fully submitted and let him use you. 

“Not thinking about him are you huh? It’s not his cock deep inside of you is it?” 

He really was jealous of you and Geto flirting earlier. Even though you and Gojo weren’t officially dating, you could see it in his eyes at the ramen restaurant and now you could feel it with how he was fucking you. If this is how he reacted to you flirting with other guys then you need to start doing it more often.

“From this day forward you’re my fuck toy and only mine. Got it?” he growled, not even slowing his pace. 

“Y-yes T-toru, on-ly yours OH MY GOD” you screamed the last part as you felt his thumb start to draw circles on your clit, stimulating you fully pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm. The pure overstimulation from touch and the fact that you were completely helpless under him, unable to move any of your body was sending you over the edge. 

“Mmmmnnghh fuck, s’fucking tight just f’me, can feel you getting closer. You gonna cum?”

“Ye-s yes m’gonna cum please let me cum” you begged, which was music to Gojo’s ears. 

“Go on then, cum for me, cum all over my cock before I fill you up” 

It didn’t take long after his words before you reached your orgasm and came, squirting all over him, soaking his lower body and the bed beneath you. You really should’ve put a towel down. 

The feeling of your pussy pulsing as you came also sent Gojo over the edge, with a loud groan, his body tightened as he released all of his cum inside of you coating your pussy. 

He slowed right down riding out both of your highs slowly and gently, before coming to a complete stop. He collapsed on top of you, both of your breathing so heavy no words were exchanged for a good few minutes. 

After a while, Gojo rolls off of you, breaks you free from the restraints and lies down beside you, laying on his arm and eyes closed. 

“That felt so good” he breathed

“Are you really that jealous of me and Suguru FAKE flirting?” you asked cocking your head to the side to look at him. Gojos eyes opened to meet yours. He had been battling the fact that he had absolutely fallen in love with you over the time that you have been hooking up. He was dreadfully terrified of confessing incase he lost you completely. 

“I- uhm” he started and propped himself up on his hand. 

“I have a confession…..a few weeks into us starting to hook up here and there, I- uhh- I began to develop feelings for you” He was avoiding eye contact scared in case he was met with not only rejection but a lost friendship.

Your eyes opened wide, you  couldn't believe it, Gojo had actually developed feelings for you?. This whole time you were absolutely in love with your best friend and finally he admitted that he too felt the same way. It felt like you were dreaming again. 

Panicked by your long silence, Gojo spoke again.

“Y/N i’m sorry if i’ve ruined everything I just hmmmppff” 

You cut him off with crashing your lips onto his, your hands resting on his sweating muscled chest. A smile spread right across your mouth. Gojo melted into your kiss, his heartbeat slowing down the anxiety leaving his body as he got your message. 

Glad that you both felt the same way you both fell asleep wrapped up in each other's arms. Smiles permanently spread across your faces. You were finally his and he was finally yours. 

taglist: @writing-wh0re

[luveline]

𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary it's a hot summer in hawkins and you're bored. plus, your best friend eddie is very distracting. it was inevitable, really, that you'd end up messing around [4.6k]

warnings smut, 18+ only please, fem!reader, p in v sex, oral both receiving, awkward giggly best friend sex <3, fluff, clueless idiots, weird stains etc, eddie being hot and soft, less awkward more giggly part 2

𓆩❤︎𓆪

The midsummer sun toasts the back of your neck as you walk through the trailer park. By the time you're knocking at Eddie's door you feel frazzled by the heat, ducking under his arm and into the shade gratefully when he swings open the door.

"Hey, babe," your best friend says, a hint of derision in his tone.

"Yeah, hi," you say.

You beeline past the couch to the fridge, kicking open the stiff freezer door for something cold to hold to your cheek. "It's, like, a thousand degrees outside," you say, garden peas soothing your sweaty forehead.

"It wasn't much better in here 'til I opened all the windows," he agrees. "If you told me you were coming I would've picked you up."

You raise your eyebrows, laughing. "Yeah, I'm never getting in that thing again."

"It wasn't that bad."

"You almost killed us-"

"I jumped a curb," he cuts you off, waving his hand at you. "You're ridiculous."

Eddie rolls his eyes at you and you roll yours harder, following him down the narrow space into his bedroom. Even the window thrown open can't hide the smell of pot and cheap beer, though you're pleased to see he's changed his sheets. You sit down carefully, worried to disturb the notebook on his bed.

"What were you upto?" you ask, lying back.

Eddie stretches. One arm behind his back and the other pushing his elbow down, a loud click echos. His shirt rides up, a snaking snail trail of dark hair exposed.

You don't shy from looking though you won't ogle him. Your best friend has always been hot in the grungey way he is, long hair and big eyes, cool clothes, tattoos and Marlboro's and everything that had ostracised him from your peers.

You'd ended up friends because you hadn't always been attractive. In fact, you'd suffered through an awkward stage for the entirety of high school, and only now two years after your graduation do you feel any type of hot or desirable. Eddie, soft-hearted, loser weirdo Eddie has never been anything but ridiculously kind to you.

You pull up your jeans where they're slipping down, tugging your shirt from your lightly perspiring chest with a dramatic huff to fan yourself.

"I was trying to make music," he says with usual bravado, throwing himself down behind the composition book. He tucks the pen between its curling pages and shoves it across the nightstand. "But it wasn't going anywhere."

"No?" you ask, moaning under your breath as you move the frozen peas to your chest.

Eddie clears his throat. "Nah. Now you're here, anyway. Like you knew I was bored to tears."

"I'm psychic," you agree.

"Major. Summer is so fucking boring," he says.

You smile at him, turning on your cheek to take in his casual attire, his grey sweatpants and his too short shirt. He's missing his rings but his chains remain, dull silver against his white skin.

"You could study," you say lightly. "You know. Actually graduate."

Eddie smiles at you sweetly. You glare at his condescension. "They're making me do the year again, therfore making me take the classes again. I don't need to study."

You want to laugh. He does need to study, he does, but you know the difficulty doesn't lie in laziness or anything, he just has a difficult time concentrating. Every year you offer to informally tutor him and every year he declines, but not this year. You're gonna get him through high school if it's the last thing you do. And it might be, with this heat.

"We are gonna study," you say sternly. "Not today, though."

"Not today," he agrees, laughing.

He crosses his arms, hands hugging his biceps as he leans towards you. You watch his actions carefully though he's not planning any mischief, only looking down at you.

"Your eyes are all smudged up," he says.

You sigh with frustration and loll your head back. "It's 'cos it's so hot. I'm gonna freshen up," you say, standing, offering him your defrosting bag of peas.

He's not looking at the peas, you realise, but your chest. You follow his gaze, watching as a cold rivulet of melted ice runs between the valley of your boobs.

You don't comment on his watching as you leave the room. You don't really care if he looks at you like that because you know he doesn't mean anything disrespectful by it, the way your eyes tend to drift to his hands, his wrists and their stark green veins. Some things are distracting.

You clean up in the bathroom, your face, your sweaty body, sniffling from the heat. You can't stay in there long.

"It's a fucking sauna in there," you say as you emerge.

Eddie has changed positions, his legs crossed with a pillow in his lap, the stereo remote in his hands. His bracelet has fallen down from his wrist, stopped at the curve of his forearm.

You look away. Distracting, you think.

He gestures at the window, wide open, curtains blowing in the breeze. "That's how hot it was when I woke up."

You settle down next to him against the wall, box springs groaning beneath you. This close you can smell his green apple shampoo.

"You're not wearing any cologne?" you ask.

He smiles smugly. "You're sniffing me."

"You smell like shampoo," you say instead of denying it.

"Showered this morning."

You gasp and cover your mouth with your hand. "No fucking way."

"Get fucked, Y/N," he says, chuckling.

Maybe it's on your mind. Maybe it's the sheer level of comfort you feel with him, you don't know, but you fall silent at his words and drop your head into his shoulder. You spend long minutes at his side, listening to his humming, wondering what you're going to do all summer. You make a questioning sound.

He pulls it out from under you and only puts it back when you don't laugh. "What?"

You look up at him and then quickly look back down.

"What does that look mean?"

You don't decide what you're going to say so much as you feel it, the words escaping you before you can think any better of it. "Do you want to have sex?"

Eddie laughs, a nervous lilt of sound that bubbles up and hurts your feelings. You pick at your nails and he leaps to ask, "What? You're serious?"

"It's fine if you don't want to."

He waits for you to say more. When you don't, he raises his eyebrows at you. "I never said that."

You decide to be cool about it, shrugging your shoulders like this is an obvious, regular suggestion. "We're both bored. I don't know. It could be fun."

"Are you sure that's something you want?"

"You're hot."

"Thank you," he says sincerely, "but what I mean is, is that something you think we can deal with? It changes our whole dynamic." His words have that similar too-casual tone, the both of you trying to be cool.

"Doesn't have to," you argue with little heat, looking up at him from his shoulder with wide eyes.

"You don't think so?" he asks. His voice is quieter now, and he's looking down at you with a heat that quickly gives you butterflies.

"No," you say under your breath. You lick your lips and say, slightly louder, "No. It can just be fun. If it sucks we'll never do it again, and you can stop wondering what my tits look like."

"I don't wonder about that," he denies quickly, guiltily, giving himself away when his eyes flick down to your chest and dart straight back up.

"So you don't want to find out?"

He bites his lip. You wait, tilting your head just slightly and giving him your best approximation of the doe eyes girls do in movies. "It's fine if you don't want to, Eddie," you say honestly.

"I do want to."

"Yeah?"

"If it's just for fun, right? What else is there to do?" He asks, shrugging his shoulders.

You grin. This is how you find yourself kneeling in the middle of his bed as Eddie pulls the curtains closed and locks his door, your eyes following the dark mess of his curls as he tucks them behind his ears, the way his arms shift as he turns the light off now the sunlight's hidden. He pauses before he turns to you, hand held to the light switch.

You start to take your shirt off. He hears the noise and spins on his heel. Warm, worn shirt in hand, you try not to show how nervous you are as your chest settles, bared in your bra alone.

Eddie blinks. You laugh nervously and he laughs back, wavering at the end of his bed.

"You're fucking pretty," he says.

"Don't lie," you say, though you know he feels like that's true, an earnestness in his voice that shoots sparks straight down to your core. You move off of your calves and squirm onto your back. "Help me take these off," you say. Before I lose my nerve.

Eddie pulls your legs towards him with surprising strength, knocking your hands away from where they're struggling with the button on your jeans. You can't help the sound you make, a hiccup of air has he undoes the button. His fingers are warm at your waist and as they drag down your hips. You arch your back so he can work them over your thighs, one socked foot pressed to his chest. You give him a smug look, as if to say, yeah, you do that.

Ever amused with you he huffs a laugh and pulls your jeans off in one big sweep, discarding them in a  crumpled heap on the ground.

You're surprised at the lack of talking between you and aim to rectify it as he climbs onto the mattress and crawls up between your legs like he knows what he's doing, pulling your thighs over his.

"This is so weird," you say. "Right? This is weird."

His hands burn where they're spread over your thighs. "It's not that weird. Do you not want to anymore? We can stop."

"No, I mean. I don't know. Maybe it's 'cos you're still dressed."

"If you want me to take my clothes off, babe, you can just ask," he drawls, smirking.

You hold your breath as he pulls his shirt over his back, exposing the smooth expanse of his chest broken up by a small crop of dark hair that leads down past his naval and disappears into his sweatpants.

His chain bobs between you as he moves to hover on top of you, a great deal of space between your chests.

"Are we kissing?" he asks.

"Do you want to kiss me?" you ask him. He doesn't answer so you shake your head. "Maybe we shouldn't. It's romantic."

He laughs in a way you don't fully understand, his hands suddenly on your waist and pushing up over your ribs to the edge of your bra, a thin silken thing that contrasts your skin nicely. Your nipples are hard, peaking through the fabric. You can't find it in yourself to be embarrassed as he brings his hand up.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say, waiting, your body aflame in anticipation of his touch.

He brushes the pad of his thumb over your nipple and grins when you hiss in a breath, pulling back so he can see the entirety of your chest as he takes your breasts into his big palms and massages them gently.

"Pretty underwear," he says.

"Thank you," you say, feeling small under his gaze and his ministrations.

Eddie's eyes meet yours, burned honey brown. "Is the kissing rule extended to everywhere, or just lips?"

"Do what you want, Eds."

He does. He kisses the curve of your breast and you start to feel dizzy as his teeth appear, scratching over your skin lightly. He tugs the cup down and kisses a trail to your nipple, taking the bead of it into his mouth. You push the hair from his eyes and gasp at the sensation, a riveting strike of pleasure that warms you up from the inside out.

Eddie pulls away just as quickly and mouths kisses around the damp circle, plastering pecks over the small embeddings of his teeth.

His hands work under your back and fiddle with the clasp of your bra. You hold in a comment about his clumsy fingering though you giggle to yourself.

"What's funny?" he asks in a murmur, dropping your bra unceremoniously off the side of the bed.

"Nuthin'," you sing-song.

He doesn't believe you, hands pressing over the naked expanse of your chest with a firm pressure, messing with your boobs as he goes. He covers them with two hands and brings them together.

"Having fun?"

"Always with you," he says, saccharine sweet.

His teasing sarcasm is familiar and puts you at ease, wiggling down into his squishy bedsheets with a curious look on your face.

He gets bored pretty quickly, sitting up, hands fast as he slips his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and makes to pull them off. You throw your hand out and he stops.

"Maybe I can leave them on?" you ask.

He purses his lips, looking disappointed but accepting. "Sure, if you want to stop."

"No, I don't. Just. I don't know," you refuse to say you're shy about how you look. "Can't you just pull them to the side?"

"Sure. I don't care if you haven't shaved or anything, if that's what you're worried about."

More the general idea of your cunt on display. It feels nerve-racking. "Thanks."

He softens. "Baby, don't say thanks. We said for fun, right? Doesn't matter how we do it. I want you to enjoy yourself." He sees your knowing smile and amends, "I want for both of us to enjoy it. Keep the underwear. I can take mine off though, right?"

You grin at his cheeky tone. "Go for it, hotshot."

He turns the music up before he does, which is really the last straw. How loud does he think it's going to get? Your heart beats in your chest, fast as a mouse's as he pulls down his sweatpants and exposes his boxers.

You can see the shape of him already through the fabric.

He palms his cock and reaches for your chest, massaging one of your boobs as he does. You're sick of being touched without touching, struggling up into a sitting position. "Can I…?"

He nods, looking about as nervous as you'd felt when he pulled down your bra.

Your hand trembles imperceptibly as you take his cock into your hands, stroking its length through material. You're giggling as you do, the situation alien and tummy churning. He's both harder and softer than you expected, though you feel a certain rigidness begin to grow at your touch.

You shuffle backwards and bend at the waist, careful and gentle as you pull down his boxers. His cock springs free, crowned in a trim patch of dark, curled hair, going to kiss his shaft when Eddie pushes your shoulder.

"You don't have to," he says.

You frown quizzically. "I want to. This is half the fun, right?"

He looks a little dazed as you move in, his hand moving from your shoulder to your neck as you kiss the side of his length. He twitches in your hold.

You spit into your hand and it's embarrassing. You expect Eddie to laugh and he doesn't, something unreadable on his face when you look up. His lip between his teeth, his brows furrowed, he looks handsome and dark. You pump his cock, kissing at the shaft as you go, happy when his breathing hikes and his hands find your hair. Heat grows between your legs, the very beginning of wetness.

Eddie doesn't let you play for very long. "Fuck, maybe you shouldn't. Uh. I don't think I'll last," he adds.

You plant a last kiss to the side of his head and pull away. "Sorry."

"God, don't be," he says. You've never heard him like this. So rough.

"How do we do this? Do I just…?" you flop down on your back, smiling with teeth, nervous and embarrassed and excited, super excited.

"If that's how you like it."

Awkwardness disarmed by wanting, Eddie moves into the gap between your legs and spreads them, the flat of his palm against your cunt without any dithering. "Are you ready?"

"I don't know."

"Want me to play with you?" he asks.

You feel conflicted.

He holds his cock against the stretch of his midriff and shakes his head at you. "It's okay, princess."

Princess. "Maybe you can… can play with me as you go," you suggest hopefully, coquettish.

He rubs his thumb over the bump of your clit, peering down at your covered cunt almost assessingly. His thumb dips, fingers pulling cautiously at damp fabric until you're on show.

"Fuck," he says. "Fuck, can I touch you?" And he's already touching you but to be asked is nice, and when you nod he rubs the wet circle of your entrance with two fingertips, spreading that little bit of wetness around.

He begins to push in. Your eyes flick from his actions to his face, chest heaving as he mouths, "Fuck," and palms at his throbbing cock. "You're warm."

You flush from head to toe and squirm as he works you open, spreading and curling his digits inside you, working slickness out. You're tight with nerves but slowly, slowly relaxing.

"Can we fuck now?" you ask. You're rushing through the steps because you're nervous and Eddie can't seem to decide whether he should let you, conflict clear as day in the way he presses his lips together.

"I have lube," he says, too loud.

You choke on a laugh. "You do?"

"Yeah, just," he scrambles off of the bed and pulls a tube of gel from his bedside table. And of course he fucking does, Eddie's the same motherfucker who nails handcuffs to the wall. "You wanna try it?"

He's pulled out a condom at the same time.

"Yeah," you say, smiling enough to make your cheeks ache. Eddie's answering grin is brilliant.

He rips the condom open with his teeth and you watch as he rolls it on, enchanted, breathing shallow.

His hands rub at your thighs as he spreads your half-hidden cunt open.

"I'll go slow," he says.

You nod. He squeezes a very generous amount of lube over his cock and then thinks twice, spreading it with his fingers around the shaft and then over your entrance. It contracts with the cold. Eddie groans with his lips slammed shut and moves in closer, rubbing the head of his cock up your cunt. The first contact is overwhelming.

You reach for his forearm and grip hard.

"Okay?" he asks, pausing.

"It's a mess, right? Do you have a towel or something?"

He seems endeared by your worrying, grabbing your ankles in one hand and lifting your hips from the bed to shove his discarded shirt under your weeping slit. You feel your vision go rose coloured at his small display of strength, worse when he takes a hold of your ankles in sticky fingers and encourages them over his shoulders.

He bends over you, his chain dangling between you.

The head of his cock bumps into your entrance. He readjusts, pushing with minimal pressure. Your ass pressed to his hot thighs, your ankles to his hard shoulders, your hands searching for something to hold. Eddie twines your fingers and holds your joined hands to your hip.

"You're so fucking hot," he says, grinning saliciously. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? Ready?"

His enthusiasm is catching, a grin turning up the corners of your lips as he presses in. He stretches you out slowly, fingers flexing around your hand and the other holding you in place as he takes shallow, quick thrusts.

Lube in play, your nerves are hardly a problem and soon the only feelings are pleasure, the dizzying, goosebump-prompting feeling of being split open around him and the warmth of being this close to him clouding you up. You're surprised at how much you want to make sounds, your fast inhales slowly turning to mewling moans. Eddie makes less noise but his enjoyment is obvious, an amorous screwing to his brows and lips.

"Fuck," he groans, the word dragging with his cock, head probing emphatically at your walls.

You gasp as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush with your cunt. "Fuck," he says again. "Baby, your pussy's s'fucking tight. How's that feel? Feel good?" Then, at your shy smile, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, Eds."

Your thighs burn as he pushes in. Attentive at your clit, Eddie works you into a steady tizzy, thrusting slow and deep and moulding, looking prettier than he has any right to look as he pushes tight circles into your swollen clit.

You can't help flashing between two minds. Oh my god, I'm fucking Eddie. And oh my god, I'm fucking Eddie. Lovely, handsome, ridiculous Eddie, best friend since middle school and fellow long-term loser, nicest boy you've ever met, and why do his eyes look so big? He's so close the tops of your thighs are brushing your abdomen. You can smell that green apple tang under sex, his skin. His chain tickles you as he closes in and you think he's going to kiss you, really truly kiss you, but his face ducks down, his nose and lips on your neck.

Anywhere but the lips, you'd agreed, and now he's kissing your neck. Scraping bites and loving, sloven mouthing. A spread of damp half moons over the column of your throat, working his way up to the sweet spot below your ear.

His hips snap into yours harder than they had been and you whimper.

"Again," you demand, arms wrapped around the cape of his back, his shoulder blades moving under your hands.

"Whatever you want, princess," he promises, the pet name bathed in ire.

Snapping again, hips rolling, pleasure made all the worse by his panting into your skin and his kisses, though they grow sparse as time stretches. You feel his hips begin to flag, his fucking sloppy. The circles on your clit become loose.

"Eddie," you whisper. His pelvis is grinding hard into yours, an aching painful pleasure as he works empathically into your spongey walls.

"How's that feel? Fucking full of me, aren't you?" he asks.

"Feels good, it-" you gasp as he pulls out and strikes in, the head of his cock going deep. You feel a rush of heat behind your eyes almost close to tears as he finds somewhere you didn't know he could find.

"What was that?" he asks, laughing, teasing. "Did you hear that sound you just made?"

One of your hands falls down his back, pulling, hoping to spur him into a crueler rhythm. "Eddie, it's so deep."

Something about your wet eyes, your pleading tone really gets him. A wave of shuddering moves over his skin and he pulls you by the shoulders into his chest, mouth at your neck muttering curses. You cry out as he hits your sweet spot again, merciless, hardly recovered from one thrust when you're suffering another. You're a wet mess of whimpering, his name and nothing else on your lips.

"I'm…" He takes a deep breath, sounding apologetic. "I'm close, babe, I'm," he cuts himself, slowing his movements.

"It's okay, it's okay." You want to say something sexy like a bombshell would but all you can do is squeeze your walls around his cock and pull his hair from his neck and whisper, "You can cum. Please."

"Shit," he moans, hands tight on your hips, rocking you against his rutting cock until he's cumming. You'd pay more than you should for the sound on tape.

His grip on your hips is bruising as he sits up. "Fuck," he says, voice coloured with good humour. You laugh at his laughing, the two of you giggling and breathing hard. He lets go of your hips, stroking his hand against the markings left behind.

"Babe, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" he asks, eyes shooting upto yours.

You're failing to hide an amorous smile, breathing hard. "No, you didn't hurt me," you say fondly.

"Shit."

He pulls your legs off of his shoulders and they ache as he folds them up, resting his chin on your knees and pulling the dampened hair away from his sweaty forehead.

"You have the mouth of a sailor, Eddie."

He rubs his cheek against your kneecap. "Can you blame me? Sweetest pussy I've ever fucking seen-"

"You've barely seen it!"

"Fucked, then," he amends.

His hands are like silk as he follows down your thighs and spreads them open. You cover the flesh of your tummy with your hands as he pulls out and tugs the condom off of his softening dick. He ties it off, aiming for the trash can in the corner and missing.

You cringe. "Eds."

"I'll get it later," he says distractedly, staring down at the wet mess of your panties. "Babe, you've seen the jewels. Can we please have these off and I'll take care of you?"

Your legs close as you slide your knee against your thigh coyly. "Care sounds like I'm sick."

"You are sick. Sick body, sick smile, sick little sounds," he teases. "Sick cunt."

You wrinkle your nose and glare at him, giggling as he pulls your legs back open and his fingers dig under your waistband again.

"Don't fucking swear," you scold.

"Please?" he asks, ignoring your admonishment.

His hands are paused and patient. Your chest rises as you inhale, falls as you let it out slowly.

"Okay. Yeah. It's only fair."

Your bravado pleases him endlessly. "Attagirl," he says, pulling your panties down until they hang off of one ankle. You wiggle your foot to make them slide past your sock, Eddie too distracted by your bare centre.

"You're a total jerk for hiding this from me," he says, the flat of his palm smoothing down the edge of your cunt, his thumb pulling your entrance open just slightly. "You think I wonder about your boobs? I fucking did, but your pussy?"

You flush white hot at his words. "Does it… meet your expectations?"

He bursts into boyish laughter between your legs until you're giggling too, the giggles quickly tapering into breathlessness as his lips touch your skin. Close-lipped kisses up the inside of your thigh until he's loving on your cunt. He rubs at your entrance before easing you open, middle and ring finger pushing in with his wrist turned up as he suckles your clit. You reach for his hair, scratching his scalp gently as you scrape messy curls from his face.

He makes up for any inaccuracy with ardency. You twitch beneath him, hips rolling in an attempt to draw him impossibly closer.

"I got you," he murmurs into your sticky skin. He nibbles lightly at your clit, pulls until it slips from between his lips. "Wanna feel you cum around my fingers."

You seize up, thighs tightening. "Eds-"

He shushes you, three quick sh sh sh's that make you wanna pinch him. His pinky and index finger slide against the wet skin between your cunt and thighs as he finger fucks you, curving into your sweet spot as his mouth works you over. You're pent up from the fuck and he knows what he's doing, and you can't help pulling his hair as you cum around his fingers, clamping down hard.

He plays a little longer but eases up when you cry out, the bottom of his face shining with dampness as he pulls away.

He wipes the mess away with the back of his hand. "You taste sweet. But that might've been the lube."

You splutter around a breathless laugh and tug him on top of you, bodies pressed together and sweaty. His weight is nice.

"That was fun, right?" he asks, hands at your neck, elbows digging into your naked chest as his face hovers above yours. If you didn't know him as well as you did you'd miss the tiny silver of worry.

"So fun. I have amazing ideas," you agree, panting.

"Amazing."

There's a gap of silence where you catch your breath and Eddie watches.

"How's the dynamic? Changed?" he asks lightly, fingers tapping over your collar like he's playing a song.

"Irrevocably."

You wrap one of his curls around your finger and indulge yourself, eye to eye, lips an inch apart.

"Do you wanna do it again?" he asks.

You pretend to think about it. "Yeah."

He gives you that perfect puppy dog smile and kisses your cheek, a wet, smacking thing as he climbs off of you and pulls you into his lap. You haven't quite decided, but you think you might let him kiss you on the mouth if he wanted to.

-

they get better at fucking I swear

[gracelandmp3]

oooouughhhh i am the only person in my chinese class whos not a cis man and my idiolect is making me DISS FOUR ICK

[sturnsbabie]

BABYMAMA.-C.STURNIOLO

INTRODUCTION

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pairing: fwb!chris x pregnant!reader

summary: chris and y/n have been friends for a while now. they were strictly just platonic bestfriends for the longest til one drunken night they end up hooking up once they got back from a party then after that they decide to be fwb with no strings attached til y/n ends up pregnant. what will happen next?

warnings: swearing,mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex. ???? idk what else

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chris and i have been friends since freshman year of high school. ive always been super close with nick and matt aswell. me being closer to nick more then matt, nick and i always gossip and have sleepovers and do skincare together often. i do come over for sleepovers with nick occasionally but most of the time i end up sleeping in chris’ room.

chris and i used to be strictly platonic bestfriends til one drunken night we ended up hooking up in the backseat of my car. that night replays in my head a lot. the way he had me bent over my back seat pounding into me. the way he moaned from the way i was pleasuring him.

that night ended up turning into us becoming friends with benefits… with no strings attached. nobody really knows that we hook up like that.this has been going on for several months now. sometimes it feels as if we’re boyfriend and girlfriend from the way he’s always super clingy with me even when we’re around his brothers and our friends. he’s always been that way towards me but its gotten more intense since we started this whole fwb thing. even though sometimes he does things that reminds me that were just friends who fuck eachother… nothing more. nothing less. even though i wanted more.

one night i was hanging out with nick. we were currently sat on his bed as we were gossiping about whatever while i stuffed my face with pizza dipped in hot sauce. i didnt know what was up with me recently but i been craving a bunch of food combinations i never had before. i shrugged it off because i figured it was since my period comes soon anyways.

“girl are you sure you’re not pregnant or something?? you have been eating so much weird food lately” nick jokes as i continue to stuff my face. pregnant??? i never thought about that. theres no possible way i am pregnant right?

“WHAT? im not pregnant nick!” i say as i finish eating my pizza. i start to think about all the times me and chris have fucked. we have always been careful about it except a few times. one being recent.

that day chris and i were home alone together making food. i was sat on the kitchen counter. he came over and got between my legs as i wrapped my legs around his waist. “hi” i said giggling.

he smiled “hey” he said softly as he pulled me into a kiss. things got very heated and one thing lead to another and he had me bent over the kitchen table pounding into me til he came deep inside of me.

fuck. maybe there is a possibility that i am pregnant. i started thinking about all the symptoms ive been having. sore breasts. cravings. mood swings. nausea. those are all the ones ive been having. i figured its from my period. i decided to grab my phone and go onto my period tracker to see when exactly my period is. one week late. youre joking. fuck i was supposed to have it already. what am i going to do? i need to buy some pregnancy tests to see. my period has never been this late before.

“nick. i think im gonna call it night and head out now. i enjoyed hanging with you. im hanging with your brother tomorrow so youll see me then.” i said softly grabbing my things off his bed standing up.

“okay y/n be careful girl.love yaaa!” he said with a smile as i headed out of nicks room to head to my car.

i didnt bother going to chris’ room before i left. i was scared and nervous. i didnt want to face him right now because there was a chance that i could be pregnant with his baby. i didnt know what i was going to do if i was. he probably would not want anything to do with me anymore.

i got into my car and i headed to target. as soon as i got there i hurried up and went to the aisle that had pregnancy tests. i grabbed 4 different brands of tests and headed towards self checkout.

as soon as i got back to my place i headed towards my bathroom. i sat the tests down and read the instructions. i pulled the tests out sitting them down and went and grabbed a cup then came back doing what i needed to do. i dipped 4 of the tests in the cup placing the lids back on them covering with the box. i waited for a few minutes before i grabbed a test.

i turned the test over and looked at the results.

postive.

what the fuck am i going to do. i dropped the test as i started to have tears run down my cheeks. i was scared and nervous.

im going to be a mom. to my bestfriends baby. hes gonna fucking hate me.

as much as i felt like avoiding chris now. i just needed him to comfort me so i called him and told him i was coming over.

i just needed him to comfort me.

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[daysofyellowroses]

toast

carmen berzatto x reader | 3.8k | 18+ minors dni | tw: mentions of death, overdose, shitty behaviour, smut, mostly implied but a little more explicit at the end

Going to bed alone is not ideal when you have someone to share that bed with you, but it's par for the course in certain relationships, such as the one you have with Carmy. 

Well, if it can even be called a relationship. From the outside it certainly looks like a relationship, two people who sleep together, eat together, make each other laugh, make out on the couch like horny teenagers and send silly little messages to each other. That's a relationship, right?

Even if you don't technically sleep together, (not always, anyway but usually someone is getting out of bed and picking their clothes up off the floor fifteen minutes later), if you eat leftovers because cooking is too intimate, if the laughter can just as easily turn to empty silence, or frustrated yells. If the messages become less silly and more sparse (you're not quite at "you up?" but you're not far off it) it's still something, right?

Okay, okay, hands up. It's not exactly a relationship, but that's not from lack of want. It's just..Carmy. Fucking Carmy, and his fucking restaurant. Those two are intertwined, bonded for life, never leaving each other. 

In an ideal world, Carmy would be intertwined with you, bonded to you, would never leave you. But it's not an ideal world. 

If anyone knows that to be true, you certainly do. Ideal worlds don't exist, you learned the hard way. Parents who barely notice you exist because they're caught up in their own shitty behaviours. Those same parents divorcing, one dying of an overdose followed by the other dying in a car accident. Being sent to live with a grandmother you barely knew when you were at the start of your teens. 

There were some tiny silver linings, of course. Your grandmother turned out to be the most gentle, loving, compassionate woman with the patience of a saint when it came to you. You were not exactly easy to deal with as a teenager. After growing up around shitty behaviour, it took root in you and you followed suit. After moving to Chicago you started hanging around with the "wrong" crowd,  smoking, drinking in abandoned houses, staying out til all hours and no doubt worrying your grandmother sick. 

Slowly, though ,she started to get through to you. She never screamed or dished out punishments, never gave you a lecture or told you how disappointed she was, but you could always sense it. You were almost 18 before you realised she waited up every single night, refusing to go to bed until she knew you were home safely.

There was no big emotional sit down, no heart to heart. You just started making small changes, implanting them over time. Coming home at a decent hour, making dinner, watching wheel of fortune. 

Not every single night, of course, but you made an effort. One day you happened to pass by a gym and saw an advertisement for a receptionist position, couple of days a week.

To your surprise, you got the job. It was an easy gig, sitting behind a desk and getting to people watch for a couple of hours. There were little bits and pieces of administrative work that you did when you were really bored, but you started to enjoy having a focus, having little achievements. 

College was never going to happen, you knew that. "Intelligent, but does not apply herself" was the constant remark from teachers. What was the point of spending endless hours trying to get into college just to spend a fortune dicking around when you could do that for free at home? 

But that didn't mean you didn't rule out any further options. You took work more seriously, got more hours when you graduated high school. Applied for community college, got accepted much to your shock. 

It wasn't the most amazing student experience, but you made good friends, pushed yourself to apply that Intelligence, and couldn't deny it was an amazing feeling to see your grandmother be so proud, feeling like you weren't disappointing her anymore was the ultimate benefit.

She didn't get to see you graduate, but she did leave you an amazing parting gift, her home became yours. It pushed you to keep going, to not let yourself fall back on old habits. You got a job in an office, got a coffee every day, started going to the gym you used to work in, all in all you were living a perfectly ordinary life.

Nothing to write home about, really, but it meant a lot to you. It meant you being able to say, 'I am not my parents, I am not destined to end up like they did. I am doing good.'

In the relationship department..you always felt like you'd frontloaded all your experience when you were in your teens. You had some fun, did your thing, never really had anything too serious. You dated while in community college, met some nice guys. They bought flowers, made stupid jokes you politely laughed at, got excited talking about craft beer/football/whatever TV show was big that month. One or two relationships, but they didn't really last that long. Still, they made you realise what you wanted, and what you didn't want. 

Then..Carmy came into your life. 

The funny thing was, you weren't actually looking for anything when you met him. You'd decided to sell your grandmother's place to buy your own apartment, which felt painful but you kept her most precious belongings to make your new place feel more like home while still being a new start. Work wasn't particularly exciting but you were doing well, and one of the girls you'd become close with at college had started working with you, which made it more tolerable.

The last thing you'd expected was to discover that same friend was dating someone, someone you never would have paired her with.

Richie fucking Jerimovich.

You had noticed she'd been smiling at her phone more, had mentioned she was seeing someone, and you were happy for her of course but when she suggested going to the Beef one day for lunch the last thing you expected was that it wasn't for the food.

Of course you'd been to the Beef before, it would be a struggle to find someone who hadn't. But it wasn't exactly close to the office, and you hadn't been for a while. Not out of choice, just..it hadn't been somewhere you'd dropped by.

Still, you figured you were overdue for a sweet beef sandwich, so had agreed to go along. When you'd walked in and Richie had smiled so genuinely at your best friend you immediately knew what the situation was.

"Still the only person who can genuinely surprise me, Rich," You had grinned. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"You know me," Richie shrugged with a grin, flipping a towel over his shoulder. "I always got something up my sleeve."

Fucking Richie.

You'd been there, before. The two of you had been at some house party or other, you couldn't remember why or how you'd even ended up there. But you'd found yourself sitting on a couch with Richie, excitedly telling him you recognised him from your favourite sandwich shop. He'd made you laugh, excitedly telling you his Bill Murray story. He was wearing a nice cologne, and he was actually a good kisser, you would give him that. One thing led to another and you ended up upstairs in whoever's house. It had been fun, you didn't regret it, but it had definitely been a one time only thing.

About a week after you heard Michael had died, you'd bumped into Richie again in the supermarket. He seemed to be his usual self on the outside but the spark was gone from his eyes. You hadn't been by the restaurant much since.

Until you went along with your best friend and apparently Richie's new girlfriend. 

You had ordered a sandwich and left them to it while you went to have a cigarette. You'd tried to quit several times, but could never quite do it. And no matter how many times they were suggested, you refused to give in to vapes. So it was out in the breezy air, round the side of the restaurant, searching around in your bag for a lighter.

The cigarette between your lips was begging to be lit, and memories of passing your lighter to Deb from HR that morning hit you. She never had given it back.

You had been about to admit defeat when you heard him.

"Need a light?"

That was it, the most basic question and you could have fallen to your knees with relief. Then you turned and saw him and could have fallen to your knees anyway. 

He offered you his lighter, which you took with a grateful nod. You had closed your eyes as you inhaled, letting the smoke fill your lungs before breathing it out. He was looking at you intently when you opened your eyes.

You returned the lighter, offering your thanks. He lit a cigarette himself, and you stood in a strangely comfortable and electric silence for a few moments. 

You couldn't really remember what who had spoken first, maybe he had asked you if you were eating at the restaurant, maybe you asked if he was a chef. Either way, conversation was sparked and you felt a growing attraction for him, physically at least. You made him laugh, you knew that. He looked cute when he laughed, you wanted to make him laugh and smile and a whole lot more.

At some point you had both gone back inside, and that was that. 

Until the next day, when you went back again for lunch. Richie teased you about being a regular, you gave him the finger as you went to have a cigarette. No sign of life that time, to your disappointment. 

So you went back again, and again. Sometimes he would be out for a cigarette already, sometimes he would join you. 

Carmy, you learned. It suited him, you definitely thought that. He was already in your thoughts, then his name spilled from your lips at night, alone in your room.

After a week, heading into the second, you were surprised that he hadn't asked you out, or even asked for your number. Not that you were being conceited, more..the two of you had developed a flirtation. Eyes lingered, fingers brushed against skin when the lighter was exchanged. Comments were made, bodies moving a little closer together each time.

Yet, nothing.

It was halfway through the third week when you got a message out of the blue from an unknown number. Evidently your bestie had given Richie your number to pass along, because apparently you were all still in high school. 

Still, it meant you were invited out for a drink. Late, but you figured he worked late, he would only be free late. You had one drink, maybe a couple of sips of a second before you were walking out of the bar and pulling Carmy into an Uber. Maybe he was pulling you, either way you both knew exactly what you wanted.

It was almost like stress relief for you both. Desperate and hot and messy. Neither of you said much beyond 'fuck', 'harder' and moaning, but it was the best you had had in a very long time.

When you woke up alone the next morning, you couldn't help but feel a little confused, and little cheap. You didn't expect him to be laying there looking at you like a lost puppy but you at least expected him to be there. But he was gone, had he stayed and slipped away early or did he wait until you fell asleep and make a run for it?

You tried not to think about it too much, it was what it was, these things happen. Still, if it was half as good for him as it was for you..he would surely want more.

And, it turned out, he did.

You got a classic late night text, and made your way to his place. You barely saw more than his front door, he pulled you in so quickly. It was even better than the first time, and you knew you were already in danger of becoming addicted. 

It took some time to get used to, finding a balance between relationship and fling, but slowly a little routine developed. Not a relationship but..all the elements of one, like a deconstructed sandwich. Which is how it started. He had randomly offered you a PB&J while you were putting your bra back on and you agreed. He didn't have much bread left so you had open faced sandwiches on the couch in your underwear. 

Sometimes when he came to your apartment, you would be in the middle of watching something and he would watch it with you, tattooed hand on your thigh waiting patiently til one of you broke and lunged at the other.

So that was it. There was you, there was Carmy. You did things together, but you were not together. It was just how it was.

Probably for the best, you tried to tell yourself. After all, it's not like Carmy was easy to be around constantly. He could drive you crazy, to the point where you would end up screaming in frustration, have him scream right back at you. Doors would slam, days would pass in silence, then one of you would be standing in the other's doorway, profusely apologizing until there was a trail of clothes leading to the bed/kitchen counter/nearest surface.

But..the funniest thing happened, something you never would have expected. 

Richie popped the question. For real. And got a yes.

Of course you were thrilled, how could you not be when your best friend in the world was engaged? But..it made you reevaluate your own situation. You didn't want to marry Carmy, but..you at least wanted to eat together at a restaurant, sleep in the same bed, watch a whole fucking movie together. 

The engagement party pushed you to the edge. The music was blasting, the food was incredible, you felt great in your dress..but the knot on your stomach wouldn't go away. Here was a couple on the verge of committing themselves to each other forever and you couldn't even get Carmy to commit to sleeping next to you. It was your own doing, you knew. You could have ended it when you started wanting more, but you couldn't do it. And now you had to pay the price. 

You picked a fight about something stupid at the party, unable to stop yourself. You suspected Carmy knew what was going on but had the tact not to say it. You almost wished he had. When you felt you were about to get really angry, you'd gone for a cigarette, the lighter shaking in your hands. He'd followed you, and you let it all out at him, feeling like a damned hypocrite but refusing to give in to the feeling.

You went home alone after that, wondering if that was it between you and Carm. If you wanted that to be it. You had been spiteful, petty, but honest. 

And now, here you stand in your bathroom doorway, exhausted and emotionally drained. 

Sleep is all you want, all you need. So you tell yourself. 

The bed feels cold, too big and too small at once. It's a struggle to sleep, and when you do it's restless and plagued with nightmares. You wake up when you hear something from the living room. Too tired to get up and investigate, awake enough to feel nervous. 

"It's me," A voice calls, sounding closer. It takes a second to register, but it's Carmy, you know it. You frown, wondering how he even got in. You never gave him a key, figuring he'd run a mile if you did.

"Got a key from the bride to be," Carmy explains as he opens your bedroom door. "Hope you don't mind."

You can barely keep your eyes open, frowning slightly before taking a breath.

"Mm. 'S fine," You murmur, resting your arm over your eyes as you roll onto your back. 

You hear his footsteps move closer to the bed. 

"Just wanted to check on you."

He keeps talking when you don't respond, takes a step forward.

"I say a lot of shitty things, I know I do. I can't stop myself, though. They just..they come out before I can stop them and I don't want you to think I mean to be such a fucking asshole."

You slowly lower your arm, resting it on your stomach as you let out a breath.

"What is it you want, then?"

He doesn't say anything, and you feel a knot twist in your stomach as you think he'll leave. After a moment he moves closer, carefully sits on the edge of the bed. He smells like cigarettes and grease and cologne. You hate that you love it. That it does it for you every time.

"You," Carmy murmurs after a moment. His hand lightly rests on your arm.

"That's what I want. I want to stop fucking this up, and I don't know how. I'm not the guy who's gonna buy you flowers and write you poetry, I'm gonna plan a date with you and forget to show up, I'm gonna be unreliable and selfish and a pain in the fucking ass and because I'm selfish I want to keep you even though I know I'm fucking it up and screwing you over. But I want to try and be less of a fuck up."

The words hang in the air, your sleep-addled brain tries to make sense of it all.

"You are going to fail horribly," You sigh, reaching out and taking his arm when he moves it away. You can feel the guilt radiating off him.

"But I know that. All I ask is you learn from your mistakes. I don't expect flowers, and I would rather die than have you write me a poem, but I do ask that you spend the rest of the night with me, then in the morning when I wake up you'll be here. We'll eat toast and watch the news and probably have a fight because we're being too fucking domestic too soon but..it will be a start. Okay?"

You slowly open your eyes, seeing a small smile on Carmy's face that grows when his eyes meet yours. "Okay." 

"Good," You nod, slowly moving yourself up on your elbows. "Now..since you so rudely woke me up, you can help me go back to sleep."

"Yes ma'am."

He doesn't need to be asked twice, immediately diving in to kiss you and pin you down on the bed. All you want is to fall asleep feeling him deep inside you, but it seems he has different plans. 

He takes his time, kissing your neck and peeling back the neck of your pajama top to lightly nip and suck your tired flesh. Your eyes close as his large hand snakes under your top, skilled fingers lavishing attention on your already hardened nipples. You feel like you could fall into the most wonderful sleep but force yourself to stay awake.

“Carmy,” You moan softly, your hand finding his hair on the dark. “Please..’m tired, you know what I want..”

He doesn't stop, and you feel a growing slickness between your legs. 

“I know what you need, baby,” He murmurs softly into your neck. “Let me take care of you.”

You don't object as he moves down between your legs. You realize, with a tired smile, that you two have never been this gentle with each other. It feels good.

“Mm..fuck,” You moan as strong hands spread your thighs,hot breath ghosts over your most sensitive parts. He doesn't even have to do all that much to have you melting. “Carmy..”

“I got you,” He murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs. Your hands rise up and under your pillows as the tip of his tongue slowly touches you. “My perfect girl..”

You want to cry and scream and sleep, your body feeling wonderfully weak. He doesn't rush, tasting you slow and delicately, a low heat rising and twisting in your stomach. His hand moves from your thigh as his lips find your clit, your eyes flutter open as warm digits push into you.

“Oh god,” You whisper, closing your eyes and resting your hand in your forehead. “please..please..”

You feel him nod, and answers your request by not speeding up or slowing down, rather continuing to do what he's doing and doing it very fucking well.

It doesn't take long before the law heat in your stomach becomes a raging fire, your heart racing like it will burst from your chest.

“Fuck..’m so close,” You moan, eyes shut tight, hand reaching down to lightly grip Carmy's hair. Part of you wants to pull him away, part of you wants to push him closer. “I..I..”

“Shh,” Carmy whispers, his voice pushing you closer to the edge. “You can..just let go for me darling..”

You come with a soft cry, your whole body feeling like it's about to sink into the mattress, a heavenly feeling. Carmy slowly moves slowly, you open your eyes as he moves on top you of. You crane your neck up to kiss him and he hesitates for a moment.

“Wanna taste myself,” You murmur softly. He lets out a groan and kisses you before you can even breath. Your hands move into his hair as he kisses you slowly and wetly, it's lewd and gentle at once.

Your hand moves between your bodies, lazily palming at Carmy. He pulls back from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“We don't have to..”

“I'm still awake,” You murmur softly, tugging at the waistband of his jeans. “don't break your promise..”

He doesn't break it. 

You don't have your usual sense of urgency, he keeps his shirt on and your pajama top rides up over your chest. But it feels like a new level of intimacy as you wrap yourself around him, as he whispers in your ear that he needs you, he wants you, he won't ever mess up again.

He will, and you will, but in that moment you let the fantasy breathe. 

He moves slowly but deeply, each thrust hitting the spot perfectly. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is the feeling of Carmy's lips against yours, the perfect knot in your stomach that almost unravels, the belief he will stay.

 In the morning you don't have toast.

You are surprised with pancakes in bed. 

The news is on, but neither you nor Carmy pay attention, the pancakes half-eaten on the bed, a trail of clothes leading to the shower.

[1427]

i love you (always forever) pt.1

Daryl Dixon x sister!OFC

Summary: In the winter of ‘95 Daddy died. Leaving Lady to finish up her senior year in high school, and Daryl to brood over when to sell the house. The summer of ‘96 is the first time Lady feels alive. Daryl wants to give her one last summer before she has to grow up for real.

He gave her anything she asked for that summer.

Setting: Doublewide on some lone property in the middle of the woods, Georgia. Summer 1996

Warnings: INCEST (like it's the whole thing), virgin!oc, drug use (a joint), underage drinking, TENSION, poorly written SMUT, masturbation (f), lite!somno, oral (m receiving), some leering (??); most of the smut will be in part two. 

Word Count: 6.1k

A/n: INCEST I'll say it again. if it's not your thing, or can’t ever be your thing, DON’T READ IT. 

I didn't write it. I simply lived it in my head and documented (I wrote it but it felt like I didn't have a choice). 

Lady, Daryl calls her Lay, Bug

She calls him Bub, Bubba

// part 2 //

MDNI 18+ 

Wind chimes. Soft like the breeze. The heat of the Georgia in June. Daddy died this past winter, and Lady’d never had a summer feel so much like a hug. Finally able to really breathe again. Like a little kid. Magic around every corner. She swore sometimes, when she looked out the window in the dead of night, that she could see the faeries dancing out back in the woods. For a few years they'd gone, but this year they were back again.

Just her and Daryl (and the deer, and the squirrels, and the mice, and obviously the mosquitos, and sometimes the faeries); Like it shoulda always been. Like it always kinda was. After Merle left and all. Got older, moved out. Daryl stayed, though. Past his 18th birthday, and a few more after that. Didn���t wanna leave Lady all by herself with their old man. Couldn’t. 

Now he couldn’t really leave her alone in the house, even though she’d turned 18 last fall. Doesn’t even cross his mind. 

Lady’s finally done with school for good unless she decides she wants to go to college. First one in the whole damn family and no one but Daryl was there to see it.  Daryl quit his job as soon as Daddy died. Even if Daddy didn't have a few dollars in his bank account he didn’t know about, Lady figures he would have anyway. 

Daryl thought about selling the house but… not yet. 

He knew he was putting a pause on his life for this summer with Lady, but his whole life had been on pause til now anyway. Knows that when it’s over, it’s all over. Her whole childhood, their whole upbringing. Their dad dyin’ was just the bow ontop to seal the deal. They’d both think of it as the end. For the rest of her life, Lay’ll know this is when she had to grow up for real. So Daryl wouldn’t sell the house until Lady had her last summer as a kid with nothin’ to worry about. 

The heat was starting to get unbearable. 

“Lay!” Daryl yells, standing above a bed she'd made up in the living room. Dad had always kept the one lone air conditioner in his room, in front of the tv, in front of the recliner, in front of the bed. Lady had the idea to hang sheets on the doors to the living room and make a bed on the floor big enough for both of them to sleep in. She forgot the pillows, though, and now she was nowhere to be found. 

Daryl put down the tools he’d been using to fix the a/c to the window, pushing past the pink floral sheet between the living room and the hall toward the bedrooms, “Lay!” He quickly paces the double wide but she’s no where. 

Left a towel on her bed though, so Daryl’s got a good guess where she went. Swimmin’. 

It’s about a half miles walk, so it’s pretty far to just up and leave like that without saying anything, but Lady did it all the time. Like the creek was her own personal bathtub. Daryl’s not annoyed, not really. But he walks the half mile like he is anyway. Why couldn’t she just let him know? Because then he wouldn’t have to make sure this is where she went. And he wouldn’t have to bring her the towel she forgot. 

Daryl walks down and sure enough Lady’s shoulder deep in the muddy creek water, her clothes and shoes all bundled up on the dirt a few feet in front of him. She’s faced away, and at first doesn’t hear him come up. 

Lady tried to sneak away without being noticed to have a private moment. Like momma taught her. You’re allowed to touch yourself like that, but you can’t do it around other people. Momma said as long as you can be in private, it’s alright. 

Lady didn’t mean to forget her towel, but she almost assumed Daryl would find her anyway. She’d been fast though, always was. Was easy with the hormones. 18 and learning all new kinds of feelings. Merle always called her a late bloomer. Not being interested in boys until recently. She thought about the boys at school, and their plush lips on the soft skin of her shoulder, the protection in their arm wrapped around her waist, the butterfly light kiss of their eyelashes on her stomach. 

It didn’t take much for Lady to feel somethin’. Not in this heat, not with the breeze of freedom prickling every inch of her skin. 

Daryl can’t tell what she’s doing. All he sees is her shoulders barely moving in the lake, her head above the water and facing away from him. “Lay!” 

Daryl’s voice cascades through the air a few seconds after Lady, with a barely there mew, has her orgasm. Lady’s kisses with pleasure are soft, new, wanting. Like a light peck instead of a deep kiss. A soft mist instead of a thunderstorm. Lady only knew sweetness, even in her private moments. 

She’s beaming from ear to ear as she turns around to face him, making sure to keep her body covered by the water, “Bubba, what? I’m just swimmin’.” She already knew he was ready to be annoyed with her by his tone. 

“Yeah, uh-huh,” he nods, and smirks. Despite being annoyed he’s casual, “Thinkin’ maybe ya forgot som’n?” He throws the towel down ontop of her clothes and goes to stand behind a tree while she gets out of the water. 

Lady was always doing this. And Daryl was always following her with whatever thing she’d forgotten, or didn’t know she was gonna need. Daryl was always there. 

Full name Lady-Rae Cheryl Dixon. See momma wanted the name to rhyme with the boys but always said if she had a girl she was gonna name her Lady. Really liked that movie when she was a kid, didn’t matter it wasn’t a girls name. Didn’t matter to her what anyone thought. She thought it was sweet. And Lady was sweet. Could get away with probably anything if she wanted to, but she never even tried. Besides running around the woods naked, she didn’t find herself in much trouble. Sweet as honey. 

Daryl wasn’t sure how that was gonna work out in the real world. If she would get eaten up, or if she’d outshine everyone around her. He didn’t like to think about it. She didn’t belong out there. Not yet. Right now she’s naked in the woods, covering herself up just to be polite; right where she’s meant to be. Who she’s supposed to be. 

They make the walk back, Lady’s teeth chattering but she never complains. Barefoot like she grew the forest herself. She knew every inch. Daryl shuffled behind her, knowing the trail just as well, but letting her be the force she was. Skipping and stopping and stepping on her favorite parts as she went. He watched. 

Her towel small, and frayed on the ends. See through in spots. He tries to look away. He knows he should. But he can’t manage to stop himself. the way her tiny ass bounced as she walked, it was too lewd for him to avert his eyes. Like maybe if it wasn’t jiggling so much he’d have been able to stare at his feet or off into the woods, or at her bare shoulder or something, anything, else. 

But it was, just… her tight skin moving the fat of her ass back into place over and over, snapping against the sheer fabric of the towel, moving that too. Daryl keeps himself from leaning back to see more, to peak through and see the light between her legs. Wouldn’t do that. He’s not trying to sexualize her. What her ass is doing is right there in front of him? He tells himself it’s not his fault he’s looking. He’s seen her naked anyway, it’s not even a big deal. 

Getting caught up in shit that doesn’t matter, that’s what Daryl was good at. Getting stuck up in his own head and hung up on looking just barely a little too long at his sister. Merle would say it was no big deal, Daryl just needed to relax. He was making it weird by thinkin’ about it. 

He manages to look away, and to forget all about it.

💕 

Lady always assumes Daryls looking. Why wouldn't he look? Didn't mean nothin’. Boys always looked, wasn't a big deal unless they made it one. Unless someone made private thoughts public, with a purpose. Who cares who's lookin’? Lady doesn't. Never did. Why would she? How could she?

With Daryl for a brother, Lady never even got the chance to know what a bad touch might be. Never even heard of it. Maybe that's why she was such a late bloomer. Never even knew what she had down there until last summer when she met a boy who had a truck and talked like her brothers and he touched her through her pants and she ignited. 

Never saw the guy again. 

Never wanted to. Never needed to. She was alive and on fire and everything around her burned brighter for it. 

She was finding it hard to get comfortable in the bed she’d made. Still too hot even with the air conditioner on full blast. Daryl was about 3 feet away, a whole heap of comforter between them. “Get up” Lady’s voice a playful smirk. 

Daryl had been trying to fall asleep but got stuck staring at the ceiling fan. Trying to watch a single blade in its rotation. He stands up like she’d asked and watches as Lady lays the comforter out on top of the rest of the blankets she’d piled up, “if we’re not gonna use it.” She explains. 

Lady’s still got her light blue baby blanket that goes almost everywhere with her. Just as tattered and falling apart as the towel. Daryl never sleeps with a blanket anyway. Usually just passes out in his clothes, on his bed. Now he’d do the same thing here, in the living room. Hum of the a/c, chatter of the TV, the heat from Lady’s body - Daryl didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep anyway. 

Well maybe. He did have a joint stashed in with his cigarettes that he’d been saving for sometime this week. So when lady gets up to grab herself an ice cream cone from the fridge, Daryl yells, “Lay, grab ma pack’a smokes.” 

Lady’s halfway to the living room but she turns back and grabs them from the kitchen counter for him. “You’re really gonna smoke in the fort?” 

“Fort, huh?” He grunts then smiles at her as she tosses the pack at him. 

“Yeah?” She looks around, elbowing the sheet hung behind her, “What else would you call it?” 

“Th’ livin’ room.” He’s not looking at her when he answers. Eyes and fingers fixed on the pack, fidgeting with the hinged top for a bit before pulling the joint out and putting it in his mouth. 

Lady stops complaining when she sees it’s not a cigarette, and takes her seat back down on the pallet. Laying on her stomach, up on her elbows, facing Daryl. Her ice cream cone had already started melting, her tongue now on a race with the liquid dripping down her hand. 

Daryl just watches her struggle, until she finally gets a hold on it. “Y’good, there, Bug?” 

“Shut up.” And she shoves him a little. She’s got strawberry icecream all over her cheeks and chin and Daryl wishes he took pictures because at this moment he needed one. He needed her to remember forever who she is right now. 

“Y’wanna hit?” He asks her like he asks her every time he smokes a joint in front of her. Which is often. And every time she says no, because it’s always no. Never wanted to, never really saw the point. Things were beautiful enough. And it reminded her of Merle, and the bad things he got up to. 

Her mind slowly has been changing about it, with Merle gone for so long now. And Daryl being so chill about it when he was about it. A lot of the kids in high school had been doing worse and Lady found herself wanting to say yes when Daryl asked her. 

But when she does, Daryl doesn’t believe her, “No fuckin’ way, Bug. Yer buggin’.” 

“Bubba, no I’m not. I been thinkin’ about it.” 

“Oh, ya have? What’chya been thinkin’ ‘bout it?” 

“Just that I kinda wanna try.” She sways on her elbows, licking at her ice cream, “I’m gonna eventually, right? Why not now?” 

She’s trying to keep herself calm, but she was more relaxed than she’d usually be when she thought about sayin’ yes. Maybe that’s why she’d finally said it. She was finally able to. Lady thinks that means she must be ready, if she’s not afraid to say she wants to try it. 

She remembers this moment for the rest of her life. 

Makes her feel brave, like she’ll always know if she’s ready for some new scary experience or not. If she can ask, she’s ready. 

He thinks about it for a second, but he doesn’t see where she’s wrong. She probably was gonna try it eventually, why not now? She was safe here, he knew it. She knew it. So he says, “Alrigh’, fine. But yer prolly gon’ jus’ get tired,” and passes the joint to her. Thinking she'd take a tiny hit, probably not even inhale, and wimp out.

Lady takes it delicately in her fingertips and brings it to her lips. She’d tried cigarettes before (and didn’t like them), so the motion wasn’t completely foreign. But everything about it felt new and different. It burned. She almost didn’t feel it until she exhaled. A cloud of smoke billowing out and surrounding the both of them. 

Daryl laughs and mutters, “Shit, Bug,” while Lady’s face falls. That was way more than she thought was supposed to come out. Way more than her little lungs were expecting or could take. Her hand shoots out to Daryl for him to take her half eaten ice cream cone as she turns into a rabid dog. 

A wild beast on all fours hacking up half her lung and Daryl’s laughing so hard he’s crying, taking the ice cream and the joint back from her as she seizes. 

She’ll be okay. He knows she will. And she’ll sleep amazing and she’ll be safe like she always is. Somethin’ in the air felt different there now. With everyone else gone. Like nothing could touch them. 

So even though Lady’s about to be as high as a girl could ever be, neither of them are worried it won’t be a good time. 

Just them in their fort. Way too old to be playing little kid games and way too young to be playing house. 

💕

Lady’s vision was fuzzy. Glittering and dancing and hazy, rainbow bursts of fizzy glowing sparkles. 

Lady was secretly afraid she was on fire. She stared at the TV but wondered to herself if it was possible that her lungs were embers that were slowly consuming her chest cavity. She could breathe now, it had been nearly an hour since she hit that joint, but she was sure that she was literally burning alive from the inside out. 

“Dar, do you think you can be burning inside your lungs? Like on fire? Is that how people spontaneously combust?” 

Daryl’s eyebrows shoot up, she’d been quiet for a while and he had been pretty sure that she’d fallen asleep. He had to think about her question. If he wasn’t also stoned he probably would have been able to tell her the answer was obviously no. Instead he says, “Don’t think so.” Which doesn’t really make her feel better. “I ain’t ever hearda it.” That does. Daryl’s hearda everything. 

Their voices are soft, the tv’s the only light in the room. Daryl looks over at Lady. Her bare legs disappearing under an old pair of pajama shorts, she’s definitely not on fire. Not the way she means. 

“Think yer good, Bug.” He reassured her before asking, “Need som’thin’?” 

Lady, sweet as ever, asks, “Tuck me in?” 

Daryl rolls his eyes but sits up anyway. Crawling the two steps toward her. He takes what he can of the stretchy old fabric and wraps it around her body. It’s not big enough, it was never gonna be. Daryl cracks a smile, Lady’s been laughing at his attempt. He pushes his fingers with the fabric around her, she’s laying straight as an arrow, blanket stretched to its limit tight against her body. 

Daryl isn’t paying attention to his fingers as they tuck the fabric under her thighs, or how tight it’s pulling against Lady’s breasts. Lady does. She took one look at him after she hit that joint and she hasn’t been able to sit right since. 

It’s the air, it’s the heat. It’s the sun, maybe something in the water at the creek? Its the pot. It’s gotta be the pot. It’s somethin’ that Lady doesn’t understand. That sometimes just being in proximity is enough. 

She felt brave. She wanted to skirt that line. The line itself moving, and blurry, and hard to make-out. She wanted to be touched. And she wanted Daryl to touch her. Not too much, just a little. Just enough to make her heart race. Just enough to kiss her sleep with something that felt like magic. 

Her pulse is pounding in her ears and down her throat as she looks at him up above her. She feels her blood burn in her palms, slowly falling away from her sides as the tight fabric comes loose from around her. 

Daryl’s lost in the same moment, just caught staring down at her, in a haze himself. Stuck in his head, romanticizing every moment of Lady’s last summer.  

“Kiss goodnight?” 

The words come from between them. Lady’s voice had spoken them but she’s certain it didn’t come from her mouth. 

Doesn’t matter. They’re in the air and Lady and Daryl both pretend that she doesn’t mean it in any way other than what a sister might say to a brother. 

Daryl leans down and just barely brushes his lips over hers. Soft and sweet, like he was leaning down and smelling a flower. It’s so brief, and it’s so feather light it almost wasn’t there. Lady and Daryl both pretend it wasn’t. 

She closes her eyes and snuggles into her blanket, all bunched up in her arms. And Daryl moves back to his spot, trying not to think about what just happened. How it’s all different now. In two seconds everything was different. 

She initiated something new and Daryl already knew he was gonna do what he always did with Lady. Whatever she wanted. 

💕

The sun is just barely peaking through the windows when Lady opens her eyes. The tv still playing, she sits up and leans herself forward to turn it off. Turning around to observe Daryl. But she wasn’t expecting… this. 

He must have gotten up in the middle of the night and ripped his clothes off because he’s just laying there in his boxers and his wife beater. Head leaning back off the pillow, arms laying on either side of his body. The part that catches Lady completely off guard was between his legs. Hard and trying to push its way out of his boxers. Lady can see a hint of pink between the fabric. The hole in the front tenting out around his bulge. 

Lady tries not to look. Knows she shouldn’t. But it’s too lewd to look anywhere else. He moves briefly in his sleep, which only makes their situation worse. His erect member pushing its way completely out of the hole. Lady gawks, feeling something akin to a squeel in her throat. She’d never seen something so… she needed to touch it. 

She shuffles closer to him, her knees padding on the layers of blankets underneath them. Her small hand moving out in front of her, she can’t look away. 

Her fingertips meet the skin of his bare cock with something Lady is sure is electricity. It’s warmer than she’d imagined, and as she moves, her nails grazing on the skin as she lightly traces up and down, she realizes that his skin here is softer than she’d imagined too. 

After a while, she can’t help herself, and wraps her fingers around him. Slowly working her hand up and down, her fingers just barely putting any pressure against him. She wants to squeeze it, to feel how hard it really is, she wants to roll it between both her hands and put it in her mouth and she wants to get to know it better than she knows any part of herself - but she doesn’t wanna wake Daryl up. 

It wasn’t even her fingers that woke Daryl up. It was the pressure. Below his stomach, twisting deep inside and throbbing.

He keeps his eyes closed, tries to keep his breathing steady. Tries to get himself to speak up, say something, tell her to stop. At least let her know you're awake. But he can't move. 

With his eyes closed he can feel every light touch of Lady’s hand. The way she pushes her palm down when she gets to the base and pulls it off as she gets to the tip, the way she's moving in soft semi-circles, but not while she's going up and down. She's exploring. 

Daryl didn't want to stop her. 

He's so hard it hurts. He almost winces when she grips him tighter. She was only moving herself in a different position, Daryl realizes, because he feels her other hand on his cock now too. 

Lady holds him in one hand, bringing the other up she grazes her index and middle finger over the tip of his length. Gliding his pre-cum all over his head. Trying to see how far it would go, she's surprised it's as slick as it is. She wants to taste it. 

Daryl feels her fingers leave him, and hears the slick pop of her tongue as she moves her fingers between her lips. He has to stop himself from rutting his hips up into her hand, stop himself from pushing her head down onto him to feel her wet mouth. 

He doesn't have to make her do anything, though.

Daryl feels a soft veil of hair tickle his skin above the waistband of his boxers, and he realizes she's about to put her mouth on him. Her pretty pink lips were about to wrap around his cock head. Her tongue, that he'd watched lick up melting icecream only a few hours ago, was gonna be flat against the underneath of his dick. Lady. With all the sweetness inside of her, was about to suck him off. 

Lady can't help herself, doesn't want to. Never learned how. She’s not quite sure how to start what she wants to do but decided to put her lips together and kiss right underneath the tip. She doesn't pull away. Parting her lips and flicking her tongue out from between her teeth to taste more of whatever was coming out of him. 

She feels it twitch under her tongue, so she licks him again. Longer, this time, with more certainty. Moving her fingers out of the way, she licks him once all the way from the bottom to the top. 

Daryl didn't think about what was gonna happen when he came. What he should do. It happens so fast that he doesn't have time to warn her. The first shot goes right on her face. 

Daryl sits up in time for the second and third to be lost somewhere on the blankets or his boxers. 

“Shit, Lady. M’so. M’fuckin’ sorry.” 

“It's my fault.” She explains in a flat tone. She sits still while Daryl uses his shirt he was wearing last night to wipe off her face. He’s a mess. Red-eared and scared as a dog but Lady's smiling bigger than she has in her whole life. 

She ignores his apology, his frantic attitude. She was serene. Like she always was. “When did you wake up?” 

“I’unno.” Right at the beginning, really, but he can’t tell her that. Can’t tell himself that. 

She ignores him, she didn't really care. “So that’s what happens then? When a guy…” she mouthes the word ‘comes’ in an exaggerated way, looking in Daryl’s eyes the whole time. 

He lays back into the pillow, grabbing another one to pull over his face. He can’t believe she just asked him that. She can’t believe this just happened at she was being so casual about it.

Lady pulls the pillow out of his hands just as fast. “No, come on. Ya can’t just not tell me. Not now.” 

Daryl puts his arm over his face, only his mouth and his nose peeking out behind the crook of his elbow. She had a point, “Whad’ya wanna know?” 

“Everything. All of it.” 

“Whad’ya wanna know righ’now.” 

Lady tells herself that if she’s ready to know, she’ll be able to ask. “When I have an orgasm nothing comes out. But when guys do it, that’s what happens?” 

She bites on her lip and looks down at him, his eyes and most of his face still hidden behind his arm, laying back on the bed. He’d stay like this and answer her questions. Wouldn’t be able to do it if he was looking at her, “uh-huh”. It's more of a grunt than a word.  

Lady tries to figure out which question to ask next. She knows a lot of stuff. Boys like it when girls suck on it. Boys like it when girls let them put it inside them. Lady isn’t sure exactly how that works, but she knows what she has. And what they have, and she doesn’t need to ask where it would go. 

“Did you like it?” 

A long pause. A half sigh, a grunted response, “uh-huh.” 

“Do you want me to do it again? Can I.. can I do it again?”

“Na’righ’ now.” 

Those words hang there even after Lady gets up and Daryl gets up and they both go about their day. This promise of ‘maybe later’. Daryl has errands to run in town and Lady says she’s got laundry to do, but hes pretty sure she just likes staying at the house. 

“Need somethin’, Lay? Goin’ ta town!” He shouts inside the house from out of it, he’d been outside most of the day, mowin’ the lawn, finally cleaning up the old trampoline. Trying to tell himself that even if he'd tried to stop her, she wouldn't have let him. 

Lady appears in the doorway in a breath, “Where ya goin’ in town?” 

“Store.” He leans against the wood frame lining the area around the steps and lights a smoke. 

Lady leans back, swaying her body with both hands on either side of the door by the handles, “Hmmm, maybe we could get stuff for grillin’. And we’re out of ice cream.” 

Daryl nods, taking a drag, his eyes squinting against the sun, “Somethin’ else?” 

“More pot?” She squints back at him. 

He breathes out an almost laugh against the cigarette between his lips, “Yeah, alrigh’. Tha’s it?”

“Wine coolers?” 

Daryl actually laughs at that one, “What’re ya tryna prove, Bug?”

She stops swinging on the door, “Not provin’ nothin’. Daddy's dead. Let's live a little.” 

💕

So Daryl gets some girly somethin’ - what he assumes are wine coolers. They're in the refrigerated case at the distributor, and there's strawberries and an island on the cardboard carrier. And the bottle’s shaped stupid. Daryl’s sure he's gotten the right thing, or at least something she'd probably like. 

Daryl doesn't feel bad indulging her. Never did, and anyway he's surprised it's taken her this long to ask. As far as growin’ up in the sticks, Lady was a good girl. And so she wanted to smoke some pot and drink some wine coolers with her brother? 

So what she had all the curious burning of an explorer on their first expedition with every new thing that she tried, and so what if that new thing was Daryl's body and how it reacted to hers? 

Daryl doesn't feel bad indulging her. He reasons with himself his whole drive that it can't be that bad. Not if Lady wanted it. Lady never wanted anything bad ever. She never gossiped, or tattled, or cheated at board games. Lady never even tried to sneak sweets. She told Daryl once it was cuz she didn't want anyone else to get in trouble if someone noticed it was missin’. Nah, Daryl figures if Lady wants it, if she asks for it, it can't be somethin’ ugly. 

💕

Daryl's on his third beer before he's able to say it, “Lay. Wha’ we did this mornin’ -“ he’s tried to figure out how he feels about it, he’s still not sure he’s making the right choice, but he needs to decide something before she decides for them. “Ya didn’t do nothin’ wrong but - can’t go tellin’ people we did that.” 

Lady laughs, she’s on her second wine cooler of her whole life, and all of a sudden Daryl thinks she’s new to the planet earth. She was backwoods but she wasn’t that backwoods. She was, after all, a high school graduate. “You mean I can't tell Auntie Norma I made you…” She mouthes the word ‘come’ again in the same exaggerated way she had earlier before losing herself in a fit of giggles. 

Lady and Daryl had folded up their temporary bed and shoved it in the corner. She was currently leaned back on the far edge of the coach, head thrown in laughter. Her shoulders shaking, her hands gripping the bottle between her thighs. 

Daryl bites at his thumb, sitting in the armchair across the room from her, he was trying to be serious for a damn second and she was laughing at him. “Jus’ don’ really know whatya think yer doin’. If yer in your right mind ‘n all. An’ y’know we ain't supposed ta.”

He just needed to hear her say it, if she could say it - if she could ask for it, it couldn’t be bad. 

“Wasn't thinkin’, Dar. Was just doin’.” She doesn’t really have an answer for him. She's in her right mind, she knows people aren't supposed to do that kind of stuff with their family. But nothin’ ever felt wrong between her and Daryl.

Daryl downs the rest of the beer he's holding in one gulp. He puts his finger in the hole at the top and spins it absentmindedly on his knee, “Jus’ need ya t’know what yer doin’.. it ain't somethin’ people usually do, Bug.” 

Lady’s starting to get frustrated. She knew what he was getting at, but why'd he have to say it? “I know I'm not supposed to, Dar. It's like those times you and Merle let me watch scary movies when I was little and I had to tell Momma and Daddy we were watching lions on PBS instead.” 

Daryl reaches down and grabs another beer from the case next to the armchair. He just shakes his head. She's gotta know it ain't that simple. 

“Bubba, look at me.” 

Daryl looks over, curious what she needed the eye contact for, “W’sup, Lay?”

“It’s just you and me out here and as far as I can tell we didn’t hurt anyone.“ She finishes the rest of her drink in one gulp just like he had, “The woods are good at keepin’ secrets, Bub. You know that.” And she smiles, looking down before looking directly at him.

If they didn't know before they both knew now. It wasn't just going to be that one thing that happened between them. The stagnant ‘maybe later' coming back and sitting on their shoulders, in their laps, in every empty space of the room. 

‘Maybe’ turns to definitely. To obviously.

Daryl grunts, trying not to let a smile on the corners of his lips. He opens the bottle in his hand and takes a sip before bringing it back down to look at it. Pondering her words like they're written on the label. All he thought he'd needed to hear was that she knew it had to be a secret. That she knew she was committing a crime against god here with him. But now what?  

Lady almost can't take it, the cicadas buzzing from outside are so loud it's infesting her brain. She’d been sitting there for an hour trying to figure out how to ask him if she could touch him again. And now that he's brought it up, she can't think of anything else but the way he tasted, the way his thing pulsated and twitched underneath of her tongue. She wants to make him cum again. 

Daryl's drinking his beer, lost in thought, while Lady decides she should probably have another one too. She gets up and walks past him to the kitchen. 

“Where ya goin’?” He half shouts behind him, a little worried he'd hurt her feelings. Read something wrong. Said something wrong. 

Lady smiles to herself, Daryl worried all the time about everything and it always ended up being for nothing. “Just gettin’ another one. That okay with you, pop?” She teases. 

She reappears from behind the sheet holding another wine cooler. As she takes her seat back on the couch Daryl leans forward, elbows on his thighs, taking another sip of his drink, “Might wanna slow down on those, Bug.” He's smiling into the bottle. 

Lady sticks her tongue out at him, her eyebrows drawn down in mock anger, “What, afraid I'm gonna blow chunks instead of blow you?” She's been on the edge of it for so long it spills out of her mouth.

Daryl has no idea what the fuck to say to that but he laughs out loud. He genuinely guffaws. If it wasn't his little sister he'd be frozen in his fuckin’ chair. Churning a little at this realization - Cuz when she said it he wasn't uncomfortable. Wasn't afraid, or worried that he was gonna have to do something he might mess up. 

“Nah.” He answers her before his mind takes off on a tangent about how it's his sister and the proposition of her sucking his cock should make him uncomfortable. But it didn't. 

Cuz if she wants it, it can't be wrong. 

“Just keep drinkin’, Lay. If ya blow chunks yer the one stuck cleanin’ it up though.” 

“Let's smoke that pot.” 

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon. Why not, bub?”

“Cross-faded.”

“What's that?” 

“Pots different after y’drink. Jus’.. trus’me on this one.” He sips his beer, “‘nless yer really set on blowin’ chunks. Tha’s definitely a sure fire way.” 

Lady shakes her head, taking her drink from between her thighs again and sipping it before putting it back. 

She's gotta figure out how to ask soon or she was gonna drink herself to sleep. 

Daryl can see her workin’ something out in her head, “S’goin’ on, Lay?.” 

She’s staring at a spot on the ground and she doesn’t look up, “Thinkin’.” 

“‘bout wha’?”

“Your cock in my mouth.” 

Daryl chokes on the spit he was swallowing, “Christ.” He says as he coughs. He doesn't think he's ever heard her say that word. “Yer really serious, huh?” He asks again, this time because he truly can’t believe it. Why would she, the sweetest piece of Georgia pie, wanna put her pretty mouth on him? Even if he was her brother. Especially because he was her brother. 

She smiles and looks down at her fingers around the top of her bottle. Blushing beet red and nodding her head so aggressively her hair moves. 

He wants to let her but somethin’ about it doesn't feel right. Not because of who she was or who he was, or cuz it was wrong. “Shouldn't jus’ blow guys, Lay.” 

“Whaddya mean?” She picks at the label on her drink, not looking up at him. Nervous and excited and hanging on his every word. 

“People, uh - usually… do other stuff first.” He explains, not wanting to make her feel bad for what she'd already done, but wanting her to understand she can't just do that to other guys. 

Lady laughs, a sigh of relief escaping her as she brings the brim up to take another swig. There's a million things sitting between her teeth and her lips just waiting to be said. Instead, she just asks, “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

💕

pt. 2

A/n: This is coming out a whole lot sweeter than I thought it was going to be and I know in the end it's going to break my little heart. 

Anyway sorry, most of the smut will be in part 2 where I imagine going into detail about their first time (for a few different things) as well as how they are once they get more comfortable as they get deeper into the summer. 

Broken up into two parts because I can't fathom proofreading these 6,000 words one more time. 

(Next part will be up as fast as I can write it.)

[rafescurtainbangz]

SCREAM x Stranger Things

(Chapter 1 & 2; drop 1 of 7) +18

Harrington | Hargrove | Munson

Minor DNI

Billy Hargrove x OC

Steve Harrington x OC

Eddie Munson x OC

4.8 K

written with my beautiful wifey and bestie @voyeurmunson

dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Warnings: Graphic violence/gore, SMUT, swearing, drinking, major character death, drug usage

Fingering, teasing, oral sex (female receiving), pet names

Chapter I - The Queen

10/18/2002 - Hawkins, Indiana...

Liquorwise

Chrissy Cunningham's POV:

"What do you want, Cunningham?" Jason breathes; glancing over your shoulder as you eye the liquor aisle.

"Malibu." He shudders in reply, giving you a side-eye. "You asked, Jase."

"Well, I'm gettin' beer." He slaps your ass before walking away, shooting you a wink.

Nothing... I feel nothing. I thought it would be different; the both of us being apart for so long, coming back together for the weekend. Some grand reunion of sorts. So far from reality. It's impossible to believe that Jason Carver could be a bigger dick than he already was... Maybe it's Greek life; maybe it's the newfound freedom, no longer under mommy and daddy's thumbs, allowing him to flourish to peak douchebaggery.

We'll see how this weekend goes. Maybe when I go back to Ohio I can just tell him this long-distance thing isn't for me. Find someone new... That wouldn't be the worst thing.

UV Blue or Malibu? How am I going to stuff this into my purse anyway? You look down into your handbag, assessing the space. "Just get a 375, babe," Carol sings, "they're behind the counter." She pulls you in for a side hug, resting her head on your shoulder. "Fuck. I missed you, Chriss. Have I said that enough?"

"I missed you too, babe," you sigh. "You smell good."

"Love Spell."

"Mmm," you hum. "I'm excited for you to come to Ohio State."

"Me too, Chriss. It's gonna be a blast. Roommates, baby. You're gonna hate me by the end of the year I can feel it."

"Impossible," you giggle.

"Carol. Where you at, baby?" Tommy meets her gaze, giving her a sweet smile. "I'm buyin'. C'mon." She struts away; brown curls bouncing as she shimmies her blue Juicy track pants a little lower on her hips; just a glimpse of her pink lace thong and a lower back tattoo.

You shake your head and smile, as you draw your purse closed. A few bottles clink, catching your attention.

Your heart skips as you see a familiar gaze, gaping at you through the line of colorful liquor bottles. Eddie Munson. Holy shit... You give him a soft smile; the phone vibrates a moment later.

He gives you a playful wink and a nod, solidifying the obvious; making your heart beat a little faster. I shouldn't look. He's like my kryptonite; a fuckin' magnet, pulling me in every time I'm back in Hawkins.

Jason and I were on a break last summer... Three days. Enough time for Eddie to swoop in, just for the night. I haven't forgotten it. I haven't had anything that good since. Eddie's, skilled fingers pleased me in ways I couldn't mimic... And trust me. I tried.

Why does he have to be so pretty?

He walks past the aisle, his body now visible throwing you off slightly; his normal Hellfire shirt and black Levi's exchanged for a tattered clown costume. "Fitting," Jason cuts; his jaw clenching as he looks at him. Eddie scoffs and chuckles, breathily; shaking his head as he steps to the counter.

Your eyes track him, hearing his conversation with the clerk. That voice... You feel a heat spread across your body. He points up to the shelf, getting a small bottle of Black Velvet whiskey and a pack of smokes to go with his case of PBR.

"Let's wait 'til the trash leaves," Jason grumbles, swathing his arms lazily around your waist.

"Why are you being such a dick, Jason? We aren't in High School anymore," you sigh, nudging your way out of his arms; walking toward the till.

You look out into the dim Hawkins evening, watching Eddie's face glow in the light of his flame, sucking his cigarette as he shuffles to his van. Where's his van? Damn... You purse your lips, drawing them to the side; holding back your little smile as you watch him mount his black motorcycle.

Maybe I should just see what he said?

You reach for your phone, snatching it from your pocket; stuffing it back inside as you feel Jason press up against you, handing over his beer and a wad of cash.

"Thanks, Jase," you whisper.

"Of course, princess."

You breathe deeply, fighting off the memories of those words leaving Eddie's lips. No use. You glance out into the parking lot, scouring for his bike; his spot, taken by another.

Why do I care?

I do care... A lot.

The four of you make your way to Jason's Jeep, Tommy and Carol climb in the backseat, immediately pawing at each other as you lean your head against the headrest, shutting your eyes.

I wonder where Eddie's going...

"What's wrong, babe?" Jason's voice shakes you from your thoughts.

"Nothing." You open your sights, smiling softly in his direction, doing your best to mask your feelings.

"Is this about Munson?"

"Seriously, Jason?" You groan; crossing your arms, gaze falling toward the window.

"Someone's jealous," Tommy taunts from the backseat, making Jason glare at him through the rearview mirror.

"Fuck you. I'm not jealous of some fuckin' super senior dressed as a clown," he hisses; his expression darkening as he challenges Tommy to mention him again.

"He graduated, dipshit. And, I heard he's packin'," Carol laughs as she smacks her gum obnoxiously. "This big," she gossips; holding out her hands in an attempt to show just how big the rumors suggested.

Not helping, Carol.

"Yeah... Sure." Jason scoffs in disbelief as Tommy pinches Carol's side playfully, making her squeal.

"Can we just talk about something else? Literally anything else," you snip, your tone coming out a little harsher than expected.

"But it's funny..." Tommy bullies; pushing Jason even further. "Carver bein' jealous of the freak and all..." You glance over and see Jason's face turning a deep shade of red; hands, digging into the steering wheel.

"You're a dick. And if anyone should be jealous, it should be you, Tommy. Shrimp dick Hagan? Isn't that right, Carol?" Jason winks back at her making you roll your eyes.

"I'm a grower, not a shower. And, you're neither. So..." Tommy snickers.

Jason slams on the brakes, propelling the duo forward; bodies smacking into the backs of your seats.

"Jesus fuck, Carver!" Tommy yelps. Jason chuckles to himself, loosening in his seat slightly.

"No fucking way!" Jason gripes as you fall in line, slowing to a crawl; a string of break lights glowing ahead, drifting into Jones Family Farm.

You glance out the window, excitement building as you see Eddie's motorcycle parked on the side of the gravel road. You watch as he steps off, plucking a cigarette from his carton; plopping it between his lips.

"There's the freak now," Jason burns. He honks his horn loudly, making Eddie jump. Eddie glares your way, eyes zeroing in on Jason; flipping him the bird. "What a joke," Jason clips, rolling his window down and sticking his head out as Eddie turns away, walking in the opposite direction.

"You followin' us, Munson?" Jason hollers, making Eddie stop in his tracks.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Eddie retorts; a cool smile on his lips, seemingly unbothered by Jason and his antics.

"Let's just have fun. Alright?" You sigh; eyes, begging Jason to drop it.

"You two are killin' the vibe," Carol mumbles. "Mostly you, Carver. You on your period or what?" She spits through a cruel laugh.

"You're pretty funny, baby," Tommy chuckles; leading her out of the car. The door slams shut behind them, leaving you and Jason behind.

His jaw coils, fingers threading around the steering wheel once more. He stares ahead, looking out into the crowd of people, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows harshly.

"You don't think I don't see the way you look at him, Chriss. I do... I always have."

"Munson?" You whisper, weakly. "Jase... He means nothing to me. He's just a friend. Only a friend. I wouldn't even call him that really."

"Promise?" He asks, hastily; his eyes softening as he looks at you.

"I promise..."

Jason nods; face, still pensive. You can tell he's completely unconvinced. It doesn't really matter... He knows that you'd never end up with Eddie regardless.

"I love you, Chrissy," he breathes.

"Love you," you push the words past your lips, giving him your best smile.

"Let's fuckin' go, Carver," Tommy calls out from the ticket line; his arms wrapped lazily around Carol's waist.

"You ready, baby?" Jason whispers.

"Ready, Jase." He swiftly steps out of the car, trotting around the front. Jason tugs the door open; helping you from your seat, weaving his fingers into yours. He draws them up to his lips, kissing the top. His blue eyes sparkle in the low lighting.

"You look beautiful by the way, Chriss," he coos.

"Thank you."

A cool autumn breeze swirls; leaves, crunching under your boots as you walk toward the gate. There's a mob of people gathered at the front, an absolute mess; clambering to the entry.

"Single-file line, people," Sheriff Hopper booms. "Single. File."

He ushers the crowd, herding the masses with his partner, Officer Jones. A familiar face pushes through the horde.

"Hargrove! How are you, man?"

"Carver," Billy answers, simply; his low gruff tone matching his appearance as he walks away, ambling through the parking lot toward his Camaro. He looks a mess; a dirt-stained Jones Farms sweatshirt and his tight Levis, hugging his muscular thighs. He adjusts his hat, turning it backward, the same logo on top; his sandy blonde mullet poking out the sides.

"Does Hargrove work here?" Jason asks, confusedly. "I thought he went to San Diego State?" Billy seals the deal, stuffing a pair of weathered work gloves into his back pocket.

"Maybe he took a gap year?" You shrug.

"A gap year when you have a full ride at a D1 school? Please... Be real, Chriss. He probably fucked up or something," he snickers. "Runs in the family I guess."

You hear his motor start up; Billy, quickly peels out, kicking up rocks as he races toward the exit, disappearing into the night.

"Damn... This place never changes. Does it?" Carol sighs, happily; giving you a smile as she draws your attention back to the group.

"It doesn't." You look out into the sea of people. "I love this place, Care."

"Me too. We've been comin' here for what, eight years now?"

"Damn... I guess," you chuckle. "We should share that apple cider thing... Do you remember?"

"Mmm... Please."

"You give 'em five dollars back, dingus!"

"You don't need the calculator, Robin. Give it to me," Steve grumbles.

"It's basic math, Harrington. You don't need a calculator." The two quarrel.

"We're going for speed and efficiency, Robin," he sasses; drawing out each word as he matches her stare, looking back at her in disgust. "Do you see this line?"

Robin takes two fingers, sliding the calculator over as she rolls her eyes away. "You are going to school for education... You sure about that, Harrington?"

"I just have to be smarter than a Kindergartener, Buckley." He gives her a little scowl, quickly double-checking his math; handing the couple their change.

"Two tickets."

"Please," you smile, sweetly; adding a little kindness to Jason's demand.

"Hey, Chrissy," Robin greets you, nudging Steve as well. He gives you that Hawkins famous smile, making Jason suck his teeth.

"This a class reunion or what?" Jason asks, condescendingly. "You guys doing anything these days or are you still hangin' out in Hawkins?"

"We go to ISU... Workin' here on the weekends during the fall," Steve adds; unappreciative of Jason's tones, taking one of his own. "Robin just gave you your tickets, Carver. You can probably go."

Jason chuckles, more at them than anything. "Losers," he puffs; not man enough to look Steve in the eye as he delivers his last little dig. Steve widens his gaze, holding back his laugh.

"Well, it was nice seeing you Chriss," he softens his tone; giving you a gentle smile.

"You too, Steve."

You eye the line of people; wrapped around the corner, seeing some familiar faces amongst the large group. No Eddie... I only saw him for a second and he's already completely taken over my thoughts.

"What's the policy on leaving this shithole? You girls wanna stand in line? Hagan and I can pop a few beers in the parking lot or something. This is horrendous," Jason complains as you come to a stop, taking your place at the back of the line.

"It'll be fun, babe," you try; nudging him softly with your shoulder, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sure," Jason grunts as he pops the beer bottle open with his class ring, shifting his attention to Tommy; lofting one at him as well. "We'll just get wasted in line then."

"Good idea, Carver," Tommy smiles.

You take the free moment to slip your phone out of your pocket, checking Eddie's text from earlier.

You blush as you read his compliment, shifting your phone away from Jason and the others as you contemplate whether to respond or not. You bite your lip lightly as you text a quick reply.

You glance over at Jason; completely lost in his own world, ignoring you entirely as he talks to Tommy about Phi Kappa Psi. Bitching about his new pledges. Your phone trembles in your pocket almost instantly.

Oh shit... You smile dizzily as your mind wanders back to a few months ago when you drunk-dialed Eddie, feeling the urge to tell him about the tiny tattoo you just got after one too many Jell-O shots.

Okay. Shit... What's the plan? I'll just go to the bathroom. Run into someone along the way. Nancy maybe? See him... Wait.

"Umm... I'm going to get that apple cider thing. Save my spot?" You ask, Carol. "Want one?" Your voice is softened; just loud enough for her to hear, letting Carol do the hard work for you if Jason asks where you went.

"Hell yeah. Thanks, Chriss. You're too good to me."

"Be right back," you beam.

You step away, bleeding quickly into the crowd; falling out of sight almost instantly. Alright... You look over at the concession line; packed as well. Perfect.

Fuck. This will buy me at least twenty minutes. Enough time to say 'hi' at least. Maybe give him a hug...

Who am I kidding? I know exactly what I want.

You can't help the excitement building in your chest as you push open the door of the small storage building. The heavy metal slams shut behind you, leaving you in complete darkness.

"Shit... Eddie?" You whisper.

"You came," his low voice hits your ears from somewhere in the shadows.

"Of course I did," you reply, sheepishly; stepping closer, following in the direction of his voice. Your arms reach out in front of you as your eyes struggle to adjust to the unlit room.

"Um... Eddie? I can't see anything," you laugh, lightly; coming to a standstill as your toe hits something hard on the floor.

"Oh shit. Sorry, sweetheart," he chuckles; reaching up, tugging the small chain hanging from the ceiling. The bulb flickers, crackling a few times before stalling to a dim yellow.

You glance around seeing costumes hanging all around you, creepy masks strung on the wall; a trunk full of weapons covered in blood, and a small vanity with stage makeup scattered messily across the old wooden top.

"So, this is where you work?" You turn your head back in his direction, seeing his warm brown eyes already on you, making your stomach flutter.

"Yeah, just a little side gig for fall. I get to dress up and scare the shit out of every fucker I hate in this town. So, it works for me." He shrugs his shoulders, a wolfish grin plastered on his face.

"How the hell do you make a clown costume look that good?" You giggle; taking in his ensemble. His toned chest is exposed slightly; a loose-fitting button-up draped on his frame, patches of red and black sewn on top of the raggedy white material.

"I ask myself that question all the time," he laughs, weakly as his cheeks blush. You adjust the ruffly black, collar around his neck. Your eyes drift up to his; Eddie's breath hitching as yours align. The light casts a golden glow over his perfect features, his eyes glinting wildly; that same untamed spark burning bright in his dark stare.

If only I could have him. I know he would be everything I wanted. The complete opposite of Jason; kind and funny. And, so fucking hot. Eddie would treat me like a princess.

But I can't. I could never be with Eddie. Not like that.

He steps closer to you, his eyes roaming your body slowly as he takes in each curve.

"You look beautiful, Chriss," he whispers, using the same words Jason said earlier. It meant nothing when it came from his mouth; but, hearing the words fall from Eddie's lips made your body tingle all over.

Your eyes shut, as his fingers begin to trace up your arm lightly. He leans in close; lips, meeting your ear as his fingers switch direction, making their way back down your arm, stopping at the hem of your skirt.

"Eddie, wait..."

His eyes flick to yours, one hand still resting on your thigh.

"My tattoo... it's here," you whisper; unzipping the front of your denim skirt, pulling the fabric down enough to reveal the small butterfly peeking out from beneath the lace of your light pink panties.

A smile spreads on his lips as he leans down just a bit, tracing his thumb over the ink, sending warmth across your body.

"Chrissy Cunningham with a tattoo? Now I've seen it all..." He hums as he drops to his knees, looking up at you with a hunger in his eyes. "You're a bad girl, sweetheart. Aren't you?"

"Only for you, Eddie." You surprise yourself as the words flee your lips. You couldn't help it. Every part of you craving more from him. Wanting to know what it would be like to be with him fully. Just one time.

"Only for me?" He mumbles, lustfully; leaning closer, pressing his lips to the small tattoo, his tongue skims along your skin, causing your knees to buckle slightly. A dark chuckle leaves his lips.

"Y-Yes," you stutter as he grips the hem of your skirt, pushing it up above your waist.

"Did you miss me, Chrissy?" He murmurs; hands slipping in between your thighs, separating them slightly.

"Of course, Eddie. You're my friend," you sigh, coyly; looking down at his mess of curls as he guides your legs even further apart. Eddie snickers at your reply, his fingertips gradually inching up your inner thigh agonizingly slow.

"Just a friend?" He asks just as his fingers reach your warmth, causing you to inhale sharply. He adds a bit of pressure, teasing you through the thin material of your tights.

"You know I'm with Jason, Eds. We can't be more than friends," you whisper, breathily; the contact with him making you feel lightheaded.

"Really good friends?" He flirts as his fingers begin making small circles over your clit, causing your lashes to flutter.

"Really, really good friends, Eddie," you pant; pussy aching for his skin on yours.

"Chrissy?" Eddie mutters as his eyes flick back up toward you.

"Yes, Eds?"

"If you want me to stop, you need to say it now," he burns, his tone dark and delicious.

You shake your head adamantly. "Fuck, Eddie. Don't stop," you plead.

A wicked smirk appears on his beautiful face as he takes your tights in between his fingers, ripping the material slightly, leaving your panties the only thing keeping him from you.

"Eddie, please..." You whimper; feeling his warm breath against your soaked panties. He slips the damp lace to the side making you moan.

"Shh, baby. Don't worry. I'm gonna take care of you. But I wanna take my time," Eddie rasps, leaning closer, bringing his lips to your inner thigh.

"Don't you have to go to wo-" He silences you with his fingers brushing across your dripping slit, just enough pressure to drive you crazy, your pussy throbbing intensely. "Eddie," you whine.

"You want something, baby girl?" He continues gliding gently across your lips, your frustration growing with every second. I know he can be rough with me... I remember it vividly. Just fucking do it, Eddie.

"Please touch me."

"What about your boyfriend?" Eddie chuckles, devilishly; his finger continuing to torture your bud.

"I-I want you, Eddie," you admit, softly; cheeks flushing at the mention of Jason.

"Want me?" He questions as his digits begin a circular motion, toiling around your clit; making you whimper.

"Need you... Eddie, I need you!"

Eddie's eyes darken at your pathetic response, a delicious smirk pulling on his lips.

"Good answer, sweetheart." You let out a soft cry as he finally slips a thick finger into your warmth, the evidence of your excitement clear as Eddie glides in easily.

"Fuck, baby. How do you think Carver would feel knowing his girl is this wet for The Freak? Hmm?" Eddie digs, plunging his finger deeper into your soaked pussy making you gasp.

Your phone buzzes in your jacket pocket making Eddie pause momentarily.

"Speak of the devil..." He grumbles but you ignore him, reaching down; gripping his arm.

You tug on Eddie's wrist, regaining his attention. He follows your unspoken demand, slowly sinking his fingers back into your cunt. You wince slightly as he adds another; but, the pain adds to the pleasure that you're already so addicted.

"Shit... You gonna let me have you later, Cunningham?" He groans as you both listen to the sound of your slick.

"Faster," you cry.

Eddie hooks an arm around your waist, forcing you to remain at his pace, decreasing his speed instead as his eyes focus on watching your essence coat his fingers.

Fuck, he knows me better than I do.

He curls his fingers, rolling them in and out; in and out, each thrust making the knot in your stomach build. You clasp his shoulders tightly as you begin to rock your hips just a bit, making his digits sink knuckle-deep.

"Yes... I'm almost - Fuck, Eddie. I'm almost there," you whimper.

"Already?" Eddie smiles; gripping your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder before locking down on your clit, sucking and flicking; with enough tension to make you scream.

"Just... Just like that," you praise, breathily. Cradling his head in your hands, pulling him in closer as you pulse around his fingers.

He replaces his mouth with his thumb, smiling up at you; watching you carefully, pleasing you to the last possible moment. Letting up slightly when you soften around him.

"That was fuckin' beautiful, Chriss... Shit. You want more, darlin'?" He rasps.

"Please..."

"So fuckin' polite," he chuckles. Your phone buzzes again. "Someone really wants to get a hold of you, baby. You should probably take that. Yeah?" He says, calmly; a small grin on his face.

"No, I don't think-"

"Take. It." He demands, cutting you short.

"Eddie..."

"I won't make a sound. Scouts honor." He winks up at you, making you smile.

"Promise?"

"I swear."

You pull the phone from your pocket, seeing Jason's name on the screen; hurriedly bringing it to your ear. "Hey, Jase."

"Where are you? You've been gone forever." His voice crackles through the phone; cell service, weakened in the shed.

"Sorry, I ran-" You stop suddenly as you feel Eddie's fingers enter you again.

Shit.

"Chriss? You there?"

"Mhmm.. Sorry. I was just saying I ran into Nancy." You push the words out, doing your best to remain calm as Eddie curls his digits again, stroking across your g spot.

"Wheeler?"

"Mmm... Mhmm."

"Well, you haven't missed much. The line's still backed up a mile. Tell Nance I say 'hey'," he continues, completely oblivious to the pleasure felt on the other end of the line.

"Yeah. Of course. I gotta... Oh!" You gasp as Eddie's tongue flashes across your clit; fumbling your device as you struggle to hang up the phone. CLICK. "Fuck!" You rake your nails through Eddie's curls, tugging them in frustration; causing him to moan. "You said you'd be quiet," you huff, lightly; glaring down at him.

He chuckles playfully, an adorable grin plastered on his kiss-swollen lips. "I said I wouldn't make a sound. I didn't say anything about you, Chriss."

"You're impossible, Eds," you sough, reaching down and running your thumb over his plump bottom lip.

"Sorry 'bout your tights," he sighs; not sorry in the slightest as his calloused finger greets your inner thigh, right along the tear. He leans in slowly kissing your skin; eyes, locked on yours.

"You're not..."

"Fuck. You're right," he chuckles, breathily; quickly burying his face between your thighs.

You moan as he begins to pick up speed. The forceful thrusts of his hand are audible as his palm smacks against your pussy, his fingers slamming deep inside over and over again.

Your sounds crescendo, praise; pouring from your lips as your cunt clenches around his ringed fingers. Eddie knows you're close, adding his thumb as well, rubbing side to side; making your thighs quake.

"Fuck, Eddie!"

"Don't cum until I say," he orders.

"But I-"

"God, you're so wet," he cuts in; watching in adoration as his fingers pound into you. "The Queen of Hawkins screaming my name. Begging me to let her cum. And, I've gotten to hear it twice. " he chuckles, laboriously. "Fuck, Chriss. It's a dream come true."

Your back begins to arch suddenly, causing you to stumble backward; hitting the wall. Eddie doesn't stop; fingers working at an insane pace making you squeal.

"I'm so close... Eddie. I can't..." You mumble, drunkenly; feeling a pleasure you've never felt before. He's so rough; but, so tender at the same time; his hands, like magic as he hits all the right spots, driving you wild.

"Has Jason ever made you cum, sweetheart?" He matches your gaze with his dark, hooded eyes; a look on his face telling you he already knows the answer. He raises an eyebrow, slowing his pace slightly; threatening to stop.

"No..." You answer, feebly.

He lets out a gravelly laugh, rolling his eyes. "Thought so."

"Please let me cum, baby," you cry as your eyes struggle to remain open.

"Baby? Well, fuck me..." He moans. "I could get used to that."

"Shit," you hiss.

"Look at me." Your gaze locks on his; Eddie's brown eyes blown with lust. "So Jason's never made you feel this good?" Eddie taunts.

"Eddie..." You breathe.

"Has he?" In a twisted way, his words push you even closer to your breaking point. "Tell me who makes you feel good, sweetheart," he hums, lustfully. You glance down, keeping your eyes set on his as you fight against your orgasm, your body nearly betraying you with every rut.

"You do, Eddie. You do," you moan.

"That's right, sweetheart... Mmm... Cum for me, Princess," he drawls; watching as you fall apart. Your pussy clamps down around his fingers, spasming again and again as your mouth falls slack.

"Eddie," his name flows, languidly from your lips as your head falls back. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck into you as you ride the waves of your orgasm. "Oh, s-shit..." You look between your thighs, watching as you soak his hand.

"Good girl. Good fuckin' girl," Eddie grunts; his lips parted, taking pleasure in your own.

He slowly removes his digits, making you gasp; drawing his middle and pointer fingers to his rosy lips, tasting you slowly. "So fuckin' sweet," he whispers; looming over you before kissing your forehead.

His lips move from your cheek onto your neck, brushing gently along your skin as your breathing slows.

"Eddie, kiss me." The urgency in your breathy tone is undeniable. "We're running out of time."

You can feel him smile against your neck before his soft lips meet your skin again. Eddie's kisses are gentle and warm, dismissing your requests yet again as he maintains his cadence, moving along your jaw, finally landing on your lips.

"I said 'I wanted to take my time', Chriss."

His lips capture yours in a passionate kiss. You cling to the tattered material of his costume, gripping the fabric; pulling him closer as your tongues roll together. The two of you pant into your kiss as Eddie pins you against the cool wooden wall.

"I want you, Eds. Please," you mumble against his lips as your hand wanders down, groping his clothed cock, groaning desperately as you feel his size. "Let me make you feel good. Please."

Eddie pulls away, making your eyes narrow in confusion.

"Not now. Tonight. I'm coming over."

"B-But we have time," you whisper, needily; as you stroke him through his slacks, pulling a deep moan from Eddie. "Jason said the line was super long and-" He reaches out, gripping your jaw in his hand, demanding your attention.

"I'm in charge, Chrissy."

You suck in a breath; surprised by his tone, making it that much harder to wait.

"Fuck, Eddie. You're in charge."

A smile spreads across his lips, as his eyes look down at yours.

"Tonight?" You whisper Eddie's captivating eyes flick up to yours, drawing you in deeper.

"Tonight, sweetheart."

 Chapter II - The Last Laugh

Chrissy Cunningham's POV:

"Nothin' like waiting an hour in line," Jason scoffs. "This better be good."

"Stop being such a bitch, Carver," Carol sighs as she takes Tommy's hand, stepping into the wagon.

"Should we go in the back?" Jason asks.

"Mhmm," you smile. "It's the best place to sit."

The tractor fires up, rattling the buggy as your excitement starts to build. Jason wraps his arm around your waist, towing you closer. He buries himself in your neck, kissing you softly before drawing back.

"New perfume?"

You give him a little smile and a nod, trying your best to remain calm. Jason, so clearly picking up hints of Eddie's cologne. You grab the fabric, giving it a smell yourself, taking him in. I didn't think I missed him this much.

"Love Spell," you smile.

"Welcome to Jones Family Farm. You are about to embark on the Cursed Grounds Hayride and Haunted House. Please make sure you remain in the wagon and keep your arms and legs inside at all times. Please do not touch our Scare Actors and Actresses," the tractor driver shouts over his motor before stepping on the gas.

You're pulled forward as the ride begins, conversation and excitement brewing around you. "Oh, and the hayride is fifteen minutes in length. If there is a medical emergency, please tell me, and we'll get you some assistance. We will end at the Cursed Grounds Haunted House. Once you go through the haunted house, you will exit at the Jones Family Farm Gift Shop. Thank you for coming out and spending your evening with us. And enjoy the ride."

Jason turns toward you, the warmth of his whisper hitting your chilled skin. "Are you comin' over tonight?"

"I don't think I can, Jase... I have to be at the airport by 4 a.m."

"Well, shit," he huffs. "Maybe I can sneak in." His hand glides between your thighs, dangerously close to the tear.

"Yeah. Can we talk about it later?"

Jason furrows his brows, looking back at you confusedly. "Are we okay? Why don't you wanna hang out with me," he asks, defensively.

"I do," you assure. "It's already 10. And, I can't really do anything... Or, at least you wouldn't want to," you lie.

His eyes widen, as he puts the pieces together, wincing slightly in disgust. "Yeah, Chriss. Get some sleep," he chuckles.

Unbelievable. You can't help but roll your eyes. The simple mention of period sex and he's off my ass... What a man. Eddie wouldn't care. We'd probably take a shower together... A little smirk plays on your lips as you daydream about the thought of it; Eddie's tight body and deep brown curls glistening with water. He'd show me his tattoos... BUZZ.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, instantly giving you the butterflies. Pulling it out you eye the message, sneaking a peek.

Feedback crackles through the speakers; a low, ominous voice setting the scene as the wagon crawls slowly toward the woods.

"If you've made it this far, welcome. You surely won't return," the voice laughs, viciously. You smile even brighter hearing the spiel you've heard more than a dozen times. Carol looks over at you, reciting the words. "These woods were once a beautiful place. A place of gathering and new life. Now, for most, the end of the line. A dark curse was placed on these grounds. Every October, evil runs free; ghosts, ghouls, and horrific creatures of all kinds take refuge in these woods. If you pass these trees, you are venturing onto cursed grounds. Run while you can." The audio cuts away.

You pass the threshold between the field and the woods. The dull music playing from afar now surrounds you on all sides, competing with the roar of the tractor. Little lights strung from the trees carve out a path in the woods, giving you just enough light to see the route in front of you.

Your heart beats a little faster as you wait for the first scare. Sure, there are little stops along; a different dreadful theme each time; but, there are always people hiding, lurking about, trying their best to make you scream.

"Fuck!" You squeak; falling into Jason slightly as the first monster appears; a werewolf with piercing yellow eyes, in a threadbare flannel shirt. He snarls, his mask allowing him to move his jaw and bear teeth as he swipes his large paw before falling back into the woods.

You giggle nervously, situating yourself on the hay-padded seat again; peering out into the timber to see if there's anyone else waiting for a fright. It's extremely dark, the dense forest blending together making it impossible to see anything else.

Your attention shifts to the tune swelling ahead, building as you move closer; the Halloween theme, simple and haunting. The tractor wads to a stop, cutting off the engine.

There's a white façade of a home, all the lights lit brightly. The wind billows the yellow cotton curtains; peaceful for a moment. Your stomach sinks as you hear a blood-curdling scream coming from inside. All eyes turn to the top floor, watching as Michael stabs his victim again and again.

Moments later he kicks open the door; standing in the frame as smoke pours out from behind him. The tractor starts again, dragging the wagon down the path as he descends the stairs slowly, stalking your party.

"Shit," you hiss; hiding behind your hands, caught off-guard by the shrieking of a nun. Her red bloody eyes stare deeply into yours. She draws out a large crucifix, sharpened at the end; driving it into a hay bale, close enough to a guest to make her cry before fleeing back into the woods.

The next melody plays ahead; a haunted circus. Eddie... You fluff your hair and move yourself a little further away from Jason as the tractor hauls you closer. You pass under the sign Last Laugh Circus lit colorfully overhead; a few bulbs flickering out.

There's a rickety carousel with four horses, creaking as it turns slowly. The four clowns' heads shift gradually, following your cart as you drive by. One slides the blade of her bloody knife along the handlebar, sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

A haunted ringmaster runs out of the tattered circus tent, face painted in fury. "Don't let them get away!" She bellows; her voice, echoing through the night. The clowns leap from the ride, scaling the wooden sides; pulling on guests.

You feel two strong hands wrap around your throat, making you draw a breath; feeling the familiar chill against your skin, just enough pressure to let you know who has you in their clutches. "Hi, Sweetheart," he whispers, setting all your nerves ablaze.

"Fuck off, man!" Jason plows him off. Eddie doesn't miss a beat; stepping down from the cart lazily as he slips his hand into his pocket; phone glowing brightly, quickly shoving it back in his pocket.

Buzz.

You feel your phone vibrate yet again.

"Prick," Jason grumbles. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest. "What the fuck was that?" He scoffs. "Do they always get to touch you like that? We should say something?"

"Jase, stop," you grumble. "They always do that stuff." He rolls his eyes away, looking dead ahead.

"Pretty sure that was Munson. Jackass... He always wears those stupid fuckin' rings. Who the fuck does he think he is anyway?" He pouts.

"I don't think it was him... Will you stop? Why are you ruining this, Jase?"

"Sorry, Chriss," he draws breath; weaving his fingers into yours, giving your hand a tight squeeze. "I'm not jealous at all... Just want to make that crystal fuckin' clear."

Sure. "Mhmm," you smile; giving him a little nod. Jason looks away, staring into the wood; playing guard dog in case Eddie tries anything else. Not jealous at all...

You sneak a peek at your phone.

Jesus Christ...

Dreamlike music blares over the speakers; a thick fog rolling all around. "Maybe I can still come over tonight. Cuddle or something?" Jason asks.

"What?" You reply; evading his question. "I can't hear," you mouth; quickly swerving his further advances.

There's a teen girl with golden blonde hair and a white silk nightgown, tucked into her flouncy pink bedding. The lights around her shift from white to red, the music changing along with it as she drifts into a nightmare.

You see a gloved hand reaching up from behind the wooden headboard; five razors at the tip of each finger. Freddy Krueger.

His hands wrap around the frame, peering over maniacally. Freddy slashes across the comforter, making the girl scream in terror.

Monsters of all kinds come out from underneath the bed, sprinting toward the cart. Ghosts and ghouls, demons and zombies. A chainsaw buzzes; thundering in your chest. He thrusts his saw forward, making you fall back in your seat. Carol hugs you tight, tucking her face into your chest as she screams.

"Uh oh," Tommy laughs.

You look over at Jason; watching as an actor draws his blade; grabbing a fist full of Jason's hair before running the knife along his neck. The three of you scream and laugh; looking around for the rest of the monsters.

"Chr-" Jason lets out a gurgly noise. You glance back at him, matching his wide eyes; stomach twisting as you see the horror on his face. A set of hands take a grip on the shoulders of his letter jacket, ripping him from the cart, and onto the ground.

"Jason!" You yelp; diving over to the edge, looking down into the thick pool of smoke. The fog is too dense to make out anything on the floor.

There's no fucking way he would be playing along with any of this.

"Stop!" You scream. The rest of the wagon looks back at you, returning their attention to the terror around them as you look down into the mass of vapor. "Jason? Jason!"

"Jason, come on. This isn't funny anymore." Tommy shouts, standing up in the cart; looking over your shoulder onto the ground; aiming to get a better view.

"Ugh... Fucking Carver. Always gotta be the center of attention," Carol snips, glancing down at her perfectly polished nails.

The ghoul surfaces from the fog, drawing the knife above his head. He stabs into the earth again and again. Blood flicks from his blade, splattering his white-faced mask.

"Hey fucktard, let him up!" Tommy booms at the actor, causing his head to whip around; white mask, glowing. A set of eyes glare at you; pupils too dilated to make out a hue.

You watch carefully as he stands up, wielding the knife in his fist. Blood drips as he dangles it by his side.

You start to feel your panic set in.

"It's just part of the act. Tommy's right. Jason is just trying to add a little extra flair... Right? RIGHT!"

"Show's over, come on man." Tommy grunts. The ghoul stands staring at Tommy for a moment before turning in your direction, the silver knife glinting under the moon.

He drives it into the person next to you, the tip of that same blade; peeking out of the chest of the old man's flannel shirt. Blood drips thick, the knife pulling back slowly.

His wife is frozen in fear; the rest of the guests screaming in horror, fleeing the wagon in every direction.

A single word flies from Tommy's lips, booming into the night.

" Run !"

Your eyes cut to Tommy then back to the killer, watching as he twirls the knife in his fingers.

"Jason!" You scream one more time, your mind refusing to accept the reality of the situation as Carol pulls you back. "We can't just leave him. He can't be dead. We can't see him, Tommy! We can't just-"

"Chrissy, c'mon," Tommy begs; grabbing Carol's arm, jerking her away. The two of them flee; leaving you behind.

"Wait!" You tear through the woods, following close behind; feeling the mud squish beneath your Uggs as you race towards the exit. Sticks fracture beneath you; branches whipping you as you run as fast as your feet will go.

People and actors sprint by, some still in their costumes; making it that much harder to determine who's who.

The only way out is through the woods or the haunted house. The woods lead to the parking lot. The haunted house leads to the gift shop; police, people... The nature of it posing risks all of its own.

The woods... There's not even a gate. We can run right to the Jeep. Your lungs burn as you run harder and faster than you ever have, trying your best to keep up with Tommy and Carol.

"Wait... No!" You scream as they head toward the haunted house. "Shouldn't we go through the woods?"

"No!" Tommy spits. "Are you serious? There's no one over there, Chrissy. Look at all those fucking people." He points to the clearing in the cornfield. The haunted house shone brightly in the distance, littered with people. He grabs Carol's hand, tugging her again as she looks back at you; tears glossing her cheeks.

"I love you, Chriss. I'm sorry," she blubbers.

People are still running through the woods to the parking lot, not enough... Only a few people actually know what happened. Your body trembles, lip quivering as you try your best to think of the right choice. They're right... Look at all those people. I don't want to be alone.

You hear an ominous laugh coming from behind you making your stomach sink; turning quickly you look out into the woods.

Emptiness... Darkness...

"Carol!" You call out. She stops in her tracks, fighting against Tommy as he continues to pull her to safety. "Wait! Please."

"Keep going!" Tommy grunts.

"Stop, Tommy. Fuck!" Carol hisses; the two waiting just until you are in arm's reach before taking off again.

The world around you lightens as you run closer and closer to security.

The three of you press into the crowd. Screams echo around you, bodies pushing and shoving a mix of people aware and unaware of the slayings; some enjoying the night, some attempting to escape the nightmare behind them.

Your foot slips out from beneath you, plunging you face-first into the crowd, tasting the dirt in your mouth as you scramble to get back on your feet. You watch helplessly as the two pass through the door without you.

"Carol!" You shriek at the top of your lungs. No. No. No! They're already gone. Tears flood your cheeks as you sprint toward the building; shouldering your way through the crowd, stumbling through the door.

Your usual fright of the haunted house is completely overshadowed by the very real threat following behind you.

"Chrissy..." A chilling voice comes from someplace close. Too fucking close.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you cross the entry into the house. Strobe lights instantly blind you. A thick fog hangs heavy in the air as your eyes dart around the room. You hear creepy music playing as you spin about, frantically searching for someone, anyone.

"Help! Somebody help me!" You wail into the void as you misstep across the wooden floor. A track of high-pitched screams and cries plays along with the music, filling the air as you rush to make it through the smoke-filled room.

Your vision is blurred by the murky fog, impeding your visibility. You run your fingers along the wall, scouring for a way out; feeling your heart nearly bursting out of your chest as you finally reach the doorframe.

Shit. It's a tight squeeze, your claustrophobia at an all-time high as the dim hallway appears to shrink with every step you take.

"Fuck!" you wail as a skeleton drops from the rafters, dangling in front of you. You plow through the bones, shoving them to the side as you take off running once again. "Carol! Tommy!"

You hear laughter ahead along with a few screams; innocent screams. You can tell it's not the soundtrack, they're real. Yes.

You bound toward them, snaking through the maze; dodging ghouls and monsters, as they grab and swipe at you.

"Help! Please help me!" You plead. The tween girls hoot and laugh; scampering in the wrong direction. No. You race ahead, following the glowing arrows to the exit.

"Chrissy..." You hear the voice again, just as your feet land on a softer material.

Shit. Your feet begin to fall into the ground, as the quicksand floor pulls you in, usually one of your favorite parts now slowing you down; practically hand-feeding you to the killer.

"Carol! Tommy... Please," you weep as you work against the odds; your feet sludging on, calling out for your friend.

"Poor thing..."

Your body freezes completely as you feel the hot breath against your neck. Your throat constricts, robbing your lungs of oxygen.

You feel him behind you, the cool plastic of the mask nudged against your cheek; chest, butted up against your back.

"P-Please don't hurt me," you stammer.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna play a game," the masked man taunts in a mechanical voice.

"What? What game?" you sob; your breathing coming out in small spurts as your lungs reach for air.

"Ever heard of cat and mouse, Chrissy?" He proceeds in a sinister tone. You feel the tip of his blade press into your lower back, nicking your skin; hissing out a cry.

"Yes," you whimper as you feel a warm trail of blood run down your skin.

"Run little mouse," he growls; shoving you across the last few feet of the floor, your hands hit solid ground allowing you to stand up.

A new room opens in front of you. A body lies in an old casket in the corner of the room, swaddled in a ragged cloth; a few dolls, positioned on a shelf on the wall, motorized devices making their heads turn, following your every move.

You scramble to the opposite side, lying low, ducking behind a tall hooded figure, attempting to keep your breathing silent as your chest heaves violently. You hear his footsteps enter the space, stomping across the floor, heading in the direction of the exit. He looks back in your direction, making time stand still.

The killer lowers his knife, disappearing around the corner.

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.

Shit... My phone. You shove your hand in your pocket, struggling with the device; watching in horror as it topples to the ground. Calling: Eddie Munson BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ. It trembles wildly against the hardwood floor; glowing like a beacon. Fuck. You snatch it from the ground, accepting the call.

"Eddie?" You whisper.

"Chrissy! Where are you?" He panics. "Are you okay?"

You watch in terror as he walks back into the doorframe; the strobe lights flashing wildly behind him. You squeeze your eyes shut.

"Chrissy?"

CLICK.

The wood creaks beneath the weight of his boots as he steps closer and closer. You clasp your hands over your lips, holding back your sobs; tears, rolling over the back of your hands.

Please go away. Please just go away...

The footsteps come to a halt.

You force yourself to open your sights, instantly seeing two soulless, black eyes staring down at you. A gloved hand reaches out, wrapping tightly around your throat; lifting you effortlessly.

"Caught ya." Your mouth falls open with a blood-curdling scream and you feel a searing pain; his knife, stabbing into your stomach.

You inhale sharply, looking down as he yanks the blade out; taking your breath with it.

Bright red blood spews out onto the floor before gradually flaring onto the fabric of your jacket. You watch in a daze as the hot crimson spreads like ink. Your vision blurs as you reach down; fingers, drifting across your stomach; coating your hand easily.

Tears slip down your cheeks as everything starts to get a little duller; a little darker than before. Your knees buckle beneath you; body, crashing to the floor. You attempt to scream but nothing comes out; gurgling as blood pools in your mouth.

I'm going to die.

The masked man kneels over you, staring down at you; head tilting slightly as he watches you choke on your blood. You inhale, clamping your eyes shut as he lifts the knife, driving it into your chest again and again.

Your eyes fall shut, opening once more when you feel a harsh grip on your ankles. The monster drags you across the uneven floor. Your frail hands claw at the splintered wood with the little strength you have left. Slivers of the old lumber pierce into the skin beneath your nails, as your body scrapes across the ground, doing nothing to stop the inevitable.

He grabs a doll, throwing it down on the floor next to you; shattering the porcelain head. The killer lifts you into his arms, holding you before laying you down again. You feel a plush pillow under your head; raised wooden sides, boxing you in. The coffin.

Your lips refuse to move as you try to scream one last time. The heavy top slams shut leaving you in darkness; no pain, complete numbness as you take your final breath. 

Taglist

Tags: @theoraekenslover @beautifuldisaster88 @leelei1980 @gri959 @redhead1180 @hippiegoth97 @tlclick73 @cutielando @babyyraven @Akashababy @dckweed @struckstarkey @joannamuns9n @strangerthing93 @floredaqueen

[greycaelum]

ahhh your kaleidoscope series is so heartwarming! i was wondering if its possible to write a timeskip where kikufuku is older and is basically really protective over his mum in public, i think itd be really cute but funny that hes acting like her bodyguard 😭🫶🏻🖤 thank you if you do this! (his parents taught him well)

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { SSS }

—Gojo Satoru X Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

16-year-old Kouki is just as tall as the 5'8 man. He should thank his Papa's genes later.

"You need something from my mother?"

"M-mother? I w-was just asking directions." The man replied, looking at you and Kouki back and forth.

𑁍 Genre: fluff, family theme, time skip

𑁍 CW/TW: (1.1k)— stranger trying to hit on you, protective Kouki, Kouki can be a little menace, Kouki's thoughts about relationships, didn't proofread, sorry 'bout that

𑁍 A/N: I've been rewriting this ask for several times over the months and only until this very morning did I feel I could finally do it at my own pace. Pardon the very long wait sweetheart, but I do hope you like this one! I hope you have a great weekend everyone~

Kouki is used to being fawn over. Not even bragging, but girls do swoon over him in his class that he has to escape to the rooftop to evade them.

"Eh? Cause me and your Mama are pretty, that's why you look like that." His Papa answered when he told him that girls in his class kept following him.

Papa? Well, he's not really handsome. His Papa is weird. He looks like a really long sugarcane when he stands straight in his violet uniform. Has someone even told his Papa?

Mama though. He thinks you're very beautiful. Kouki really loves his eyes because it's the same color as yours.

So it's not a surprise having a pretty mother that when you go out guys look at you, a little longer than Kouki would approve.

"We have to buy you new clothes, you're not fitting in the ones we bought last year." You sighed and walk to the department store with Kouki trailing behind you. "I know your Papa is tall, but I never thought you'd be this tall too."

Kouki pouts and shrugs.

"You use me to get the high things Ma, why are you poking my height?"

You laughed, teasing him more about girls in school breaking their necks when he passes them. His sister can't keep her mouth shut to get back at him at dinner time.

His Papa told him it was normal. Those kinds of things, getting attracted to the opposite sex because of curiosity. But he's never felt the need to entertain it. Kouki does get confessions but all of them are politely turned down.

"Why should I? It's not like I like her." He sighed at Yusuke, his friend since middle school telling him he's been a real snob with girls, this recent one is the principal's daughter.

"But don't you get curious about getting into a relationship? All that romance and stuff? C'mon, you're not planning to be a hermit or a monk are you?"

He already knows what it's like. Seeing his mother and father every day, Kouki doesn't really feel the need to seek out relationships, especially fleeting ones. It's not like he likes anyone anyway.

"Oh! I know. You're waiting for Mayumi? Right! It's been years since she changed schools. Are you still exchanging emails with her?" Yusuke grinned ear to ear.

"She's like a sister to me." Kouki stood up and pat his pants from the dirt. "I have siblings, and I'm gonna get angry if some boy or girl just dates them for fun too."

Dating... Huh?

He's rather protective of the girls in the house than fooling around. The same goes for his Mama.

"I want this hoodie Ma." Kouki came back to the aisle with a white hoodie in his hand when he saw a man talking to you.

"Do you know where this cafe is? The mall is big and I'm lost." The man—looking late 20s—rub the back of his neck while looking at you intently as you told him the directions.

Asking questions? Probably the man is lost. That's alright, he'll wait here 'til you finish helping the guy.

"Ah, thank you. If you're free can we get coffee together? I'm Hayato."

Formation SSS

"Ma, I was looking for you." Kouki swooped in. Your eyes lit up and smiled. The man was taken aback by his presence but Kouki ignored him and put on a worried face, with a soft voice. "Papa told you to walk slowly. You can't stress my baby sibling walking around tirelessly. The first trimester is really delicate, didn't you hear what the doctor said?"

"What are you talkin—" You frowned and stare at him like he's ridiculously grown three heads.

"Papa mailed me he's waiting in the store, your rings just finished getting cleaned."

You frowned at him with the sudden remarks but he just winked at you and turned around, and everything changed. Slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans with a blank look on his face, Kouki took one step forward. The man steps back and looks at him with confusion and a glare.

16-year-old Kouki is just as tall as the 5'8 man. He should thank his Papa's genes later.

"You need something from my mother?"

"M-mother? I w-was just asking directions." The man replied, looking at you and Kouki back and forth.

"Go straight in that corridor, turn right at the corner then take the elevator to the ground floor you'll get there." Kouki flatly answered. "Excuse us, my father is not really a patient man."

Kouki ushered you out of the shop. The directions he gave led to the parking lot.

"Y'know, you're really a minion of your father. The only you got from me is your eyes." You chuckled, finding your protective son funnier than scolding his rudeness. "And what baby sibling? Really Kou-chan, after your siblings you still want to babysit another one?" You teased.

Kouki huffs. He really wanted that white hoodie but forgot about it. Unknowingly you didn't realize the direction you're heading.

It was the same cafe the stranger earlier asked you about.

"What took you so long? I was really hungry." His Papa waved.

"Satoru?! I thought you were coming home tomorrow?" You shook your head and sat beside the grinning man. You were quickly enveloped with smothering and teasing.

Kouki sighed at the scene in front of him and turned to his phone, the tread of the recent message is still there.

—————

Him:

Pa.

Papa:

Yes, yes? Miss me Kikufuku? I'm on my way home~ I brought you a ddeokbokki, the spiciest one!

—————

Great, he feels the love. Note his sarcasm, please. Kouki ignored his father's words and got to the point.

—————

Him:

Pa, formation SSS

Papa:

Roger that, where?

Him:

Department store.

Papa:

Okie-dokie on my way Kikufuku.

Him:

On second thought, wait at Cafe Rio

—————

"You two are really!" You huffed but a defeated glint in your eyes.

Kouki stared at his parents getting all lovey-dovey despite the public setting. He should've chosen a more private place to eat.

"I'm gonna get that hoodie, I'll be back." Kouki stood up.

"Owkay~" His Papa chuckled, shooing him away. "Oh, Kikufuku?"

"Mnnn?" Kouki turned back and met his father's thumbs up. This time a genuine tenderness in his Papa's eyes.

"Nice one, son."

Kouki shrugged and waved, walking out of the cafe. His Papa is weird, but he's the only man worthy of his Mama.

On his way out, he saw the man in the department store. The man's eyes were wide open as he stares at his Mama and Papa inside the cafe in disbelief. He then saw Kouki, walking on the other side.

Kouki smirked tauntingly crumpling the man's face and ego more than ever.

Guess what? You're right.

The only thing he inherited from his mother is her eyes. He could be a menace like his father.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey

[gumisgirlfriend]

CHAPTER 2:: GREEN OUT

PAIRING:: fem!reader x college au stoner megumi fushiguro

SUMMARY:: after being invited to your first smoke sesh with your friends, you green out, and megumi helps you out once again.

WARNINGS:: MINORS DNI or you get blocked :3 weed usage.

“Damn, that sorority house punch..”Maki mutters before heaving into the toilet. You hold her hair up, rubbing her back soothingly. 

“Yeah, maybe you should go a bit lighter on the drinking next time.” you mutter, pursing your lips.

“Yeah, you’re a total lightweight, Maki.” Nobara teases, leaning on the counter smugly.

“How am I the one throwing up right now?! You drank more than I di-“ Maki interrupts herself with another heave into the toilet, her grip tightening on the seat. 

“I guess I’m just cooler than you are.” Nobara says with a grin, applying a layer of mascara. You roll your eyes.

You sigh annoyedly, “Nobara, quit teasing her. And Maki, quit talking, it’s not helping you.” You mutter, patting Maki on the back. 

Nobara continues to study herself in the mirror, batting her eyelashes, “Whatever. Anyways, how did you get home? I thought you’d be coming home with us.” 

“I decided to go home early. Your friend gave me a ride. I think his name was.. Megumi?” You feign a loss of memory, but in reality he was all you could think about from the moment you fell asleep, til the moment Maki woke you up from the sounds of her dry heaving in your shared bathroom. At the mention of his name, the look in Nobara’s eyes change. 

“Oh, is that so?” she says, a slight grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

“How kind of him.” There’s a hint of something else in her voice. Sarcasm? Jealousy? You can’t put your finger on it.

Suddenly, feel a buzz come from your back pocket, so you quickly pull your phone from the pocket of your jeans, your other hand occupied with Maki’s hair. Your heart beat quickens as you read the notification:

“I would remind you of what I said last night, but you probably don’t remember.”

“Glad I could help, I guess.”

Your hands tremble and you can barely type back with your thumb, holding the phone with one hand and almost dropping it onto Maki’s head as she throws up another load of alcoholic punch and the sorority houses’ charcuterie board cheese and crackers.

“no, i remember it just fine! :)”

“just thought i’d say so anyways, cause i would feel wrong if i didn’t!”

Nobara notices a giddy smile spread across your cheeks, and her brow furrows. “Who’re ya texting?” she asks, reaching into her makeup bag for her eyeliner as her gaze turns back to the mirror.

“Just thought I’d thank Megumi for giving me a ride last night.”

She raises her eyebrows, scoffing. “Knowing him, he’d probably say something like ‘don’t thank me! it doesn’t matter!’” she says, mimicking him in a high pitched voice.

You chuckle lightly. “You guys have known each other since high school, right?” you ask as Maki raises her head from the toilet.

“He told you?” Nobara shifts her gaze back to you.

Maki wipes her mouth with a paper towel, groaning. “They dated for a while in high school. Didn’t go over well, though.”

Nobara’s eyebrows furrow with annoyance, “It went over just fine, Maki.” she retorts. “We’re still friends, you know.”

Maki turns to you, mouthing to you behind her hand, “Still not over him.”

Nobara huffs and aggressively applies a second layer of mascara, “We’re better as friends anyways.” 

“Mhm…” Maki hums with a knowing smile, shooting you a glance as she puts her glasses back on. She lets out a sigh of relief, “I think that’s all of it, finally.” She stands up to stretch, playfully nudging Nobara over to wash her hands.

Your phone vibrates again after five minutes in your pocket and you quickly whip it out again.

“Wow, how noble of you 😐”

You can’t help but grin as you start typing back to him.

“i’d argue that you’re the more noble one here 😒”

And almost immediately, he responds.

“It was nothing noble. If I hadn’t stepped in, who knows what would’ve happened.”

He’s right. Your mind races with dark thoughts of all the possibilities that could occur if he hadn’t helped you, but you quickly shake the thoughts away. He texts again:

“You’re not indebted to me. Just don’t wander around a party alone next time.”

You shake your head and sigh.

“well, whatever, i just wanted to let you know i appreciate what you did! :))”

“Yeah. Just lmk if he tries to fuck w you again, k?”

“i will! &lt;;3”

You stuff your phone back into your pocket, looking into the mirror to see your cheeks flushed red. 

“Anyways, we’re hanging out later if you want to join.” Maki says, patting you on the shoulder. 

“With who?”

“Nobara, Yuji, Megumi, a few of our other friends.” She grabs a pair of shoes haphazardly thrown in the middle of their dorm room, sliding them on. 

You nod with a smile, “Yeah, I can come after my afternoon classes.” 

Maki nods back, “Sweet. We’re heading to their apartment. We can pick you up if ya’ need.” She slides on a hoodie and fixes her crooked glasses.

“That would be nice. 5:00 sound good?” 

“Yup.”

Before you know it, 5:00 hits and you’re standing outside your dormitory building, all dolled up in a pretty blouse with jeans and your hair nearly done. Unfortunately, you are self aware, and you already know why you put so much effort into looking nice..

While you’re lost in thought, a mini-van pulls up to you, the windows rolling down. “Hop in, girl!” Maki shouts out the window as one of the doors open, motioning for you to get in. 

Awkwardly enough, you’re forced to squeeze in right next to your black-haired savior. The van is filled to the brim with people, a few students you’ve seen on campus and some you haven’t. It’s loud and stifling. You cross your legs uncomfortably, trying to give you and him more space, but your arms still touch. He slouches, leaning his head back as he slides in his airpods to drown out the sound of the others talking. You take a deep breath in an effort to quell your heartbeat racing.

“You got the shit ‘Gumi?” Yuji asks, clapping Megumi on the back before kicking back onto the beaten-up couch. The apartment is littered with wrappers, energy drink cans, random guitar picks, band posters, and stickers. A few skateboards are hung up on the wall for decoration, as well as an expensive looking guitar.

Megumi sighs, reaching into the compartment beneath the coffee table in front of him. “Sure do.” he says monotonously. He pulls out a pack of pre-rolls and a lighter, kicking the compartment closed. 

Maki nudges you with her elbow, “You’ve smoked before, right?” she asks, raising her brow. 

You scoff, “Pfft, yeah. Of course.” You lie blatantly, almost entranced as Megumi puts the pre-roll between his lips and lights it effortlessly. 

Maki squints at you, “Whatever you say, girl.” 

You watch anxiously as they pass it around, tapping your fingers on your leg eagerly. Eventually it comes around to you, and you can barely hold it with your shaking hands. You lift it to your lips, taking a puff and immediately choking on the hot air, feeling your throat burn and itch, before breaking into a coughing fit. Maki chuckles, rubbing your back.

“Never smoked before, huh?” Yuji says teasingly with a grin as you pass it around to him. You give up on keeping the lie up, smiling awkwardly. “That’s fine. Just.. don’t puke on me, please.” He says jokingly before taking a hit, smugly blowing a few o’s out at you.

The roll goes back around, and Nobara and Maki share a few anecdotes about their first experiences with smoking, explaining that Nobara was the one who threw up on Yuji by accident once. After passing it around once or twice again, Megumi lights another.

“Probably best you sit out on this one.” Nobara comments, gesturing to you as the pre-roll reaches her. You nod, noticing that your head feels like it moves much slower. You shift anxiously in your seat, feeling as the effects start to hit you.

Maki points and laughs at you, “Holy shit, look how red her eyes are getting.” The group breaks into laughter, and Maki nearly falls off her seat, making you laugh along with them.

Megumi sits comfortably relaxed on his couch, stonefaced as he smokes another by himself. He catches you staring, lifting his brow, and your cheeks flush. “If you’re wondering why I’m having another,” He pauses to take another inhale off his roll, blowing it away from you. “‘takes me a lot more than you guys to get a buzz.” he says nonchalantly, tapping off some ash on the tray on his lap. You nod with a wide smile, pretending that you understood what he just said, but your mind is buzzing too loudly, and every word just went in one ear and out the other.

The group shares stories and inside jokes, occasionally everyone breaking into uncontrollable laughter, but you feel your vision begin to stir, as if everything is in stop-motion, and you start to breathe heavily. Everything grows louder, and your eyes sting with tears.

Almost as if he appeared through thin air, Megumi stands in front of you, holding out his hand. Without a second thought, you take it.

“Hey, everything okay?” Maki asks, tilting her head with concern. You can’t form the words to respond, and suddenly feel a burning sensation in your throat.

“Don’t worry about her. I’ll take care of it.” He purrs reassuringly, his arm resting on your shoulder as he leads you to the main bathroom. 

You immediately kneel over the toilet, and he follows suit, gently holding your hair back as you heave into the it. A slow, comforting hand rubs your back, and when you slightly turn your head to catch a glimpse of him, you swear you see a look of sympathy. In a mere second, you’re back to vomiting into the toilet, his hand massaging slow circles up and down your spine. “You’re gonna be okay..” he murmurs. He sighs as he sits down cross legged beside you, leaning his back on the counter as he holds back your hair. 

“Today’s truly come full circle..”, you think. Now you’re the one throwing up.

After a minute or two of throwing up, you lean your head back up, confident that you’ve already spilled your whole stomach. He pulls a rag from under the sink, wetting it with water. You groan, turning your face away from him ashamedly. “Hey, let me clean your face.” he says, trying to turn your face so he can wipe off anything remaining on your face, but you refuse.

“N-No..” you mutter, shaking your head. “I-I look awfull..” you say as tears spill down your cheeks uncontrollably.

Megumi rolls his eyes, grabbing you by the chin, but you don’t feel like you have the strength to fight back. “I don’t care how you look.” he says annoyedly, cleaning up the area around your mouth with the rag. “Besides.. you look fine.”

 You pout at him as tears stream down your face, and he wipes them away with his thumb. “H-How did you know?”

The corner of his mouth quirks into a slight grin. “I’ve smoked with people enough times to know when it looks like they’re about to puke.” He holds you by the jaw, wiping off your lips. “I’ve had to clean people up loads of times. This is nothing.” He says as he tosses the rag into the sink. He sighs heavily, “You think you’ve got everything out?” he asks as he holds onto the counter to stand up, holding out his hand. You nod silently and hold onto his hand as you stand up, and he helps you back onto the couch of the living room. 

Everyone’s too preoccupied playing a loud game of Uno, except for Nobara, who shoots you a quick dirty look, but you forget it in a matter of seconds. Megumi sits you beside him, kicking back on the couch again. “Hey, you wanna join us ‘Gumi?” Yuji asks, waving a few of his cards at him.

Megumi shakes his head, “I’m good. Gotta make sure this one doesn’t get sick again.” he says, shifting his gaze to you. You look away, embarrassed.

After spending about an hour miserably lounging on the couch while your friends play all sorts of games, Maki taps you on the shoulder, “You planning on staying over with us tonight?” she asks, nudging you in the rib.

You shake your head, “No.. I’m not feeling too hot.” you murmur, eliciting boos from Yuji and Maki. 

Megumi grumbles, “Don’t let them peer pressure you. I can give you a ride home, if you’d rather not stay.” he offers, scrolling idly on his phone. 

You nod, accepting the offer. You check the time, and it’s already 8:00. 

“We should leave now then.” He grabs his keychain off the coffee table, waving to the group before leading you outside to the car. As you pull out of the driveway, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of guilt.

You stare out the window, avoiding his gaze as your mind continues to stir with intoxication. 

“I feel like I owe you.” you mutter, sneaking a quick glance at him before turning away again. He rolls his eyes.

“Really?” he says blankly, glaring back at you. You nod, frowning.

“You’ve done so much for me already. I’ll feel rude if I don’t.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Megumi sighs heavily, the car going completely silent for a a few minutes. He bites his lip as if he’s about to say something, before stopping himself.

“You want a way to pay me back?” he asks, pulling into the women’s dormitories parking lot. 

“Mhm.” you hum, turning back to him.

“Let me show you what a real good high feels like sometime.” he says, the corner of the mouth curving into a half-grin.

— TAGLIST :: @diogodxlot

* ˚ ✦ CHAPTER 1 :: black-haired angel: you get invited by your best friend nobara to your first college sorority party, and after being harassed by a college student, a black-haired stranger swoops in to your rescue.

* ˚ ✦ CHAPTER 3 :: commitment: against your better judgement, you go to megumi's apartment alone, and he opens up to you.