#♡ fluff

[rafesangelita]

♡ when you’re so wet that rafe keeps slipping out..

warnings: making out, heavy petting, dry humping (not really, it’s pretty messy), finger sucking, cockwarming (?), unprotected sex, praise, teasing, rafe being super pussy drunk, belly bulge, size kink, biting, slight dacryphilia

“fuck, look at those hips..” rafe pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two as he dragged you up and down his lap, his large palms enveloping the soft globes of your ass. with shaky hands, you held onto his shoulders as you rocked on top of him, your panties drenched with your arousal. “need’ you, ray..” you whimpered, “please.” rafe pressed a trail of sloppy kisses across your collarbone, his tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut.

he navigated your body like it was the back of his hand, his skillful touch turning you into putty. rafe could feel your heat through his boxers, the soaked fabric making him groan as his hardened cock strained against the material. “i’ll give it you, baby, don’t worry,” he landed a harsh smack to your ass, ripping a yelp from your lips, “wet those fingers for me.” rafe could only imagine how slippery your cunt would feel swallowing him whole, your slick alone already making you glide easily on top of the layers separating you two from full penetration.

giggling softly, rafe watched as your hand disappeared underneath the waistband of your panties, his breath hitching once you held up your fingers, a pool of your sticky succulence glistening underneath the dim light. knowing that he was the one to make you like this made him twitch with need, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he brought your digits to his mouth. with a baited breath, you gasped softly when he took your juices on his tongue, the man in front of you moaning at the taste.

no matter how many times rafe found his head between your thighs, he could never get used to how intoxicating you were, all of his senses and primal instincts honing in on fucking you stupid. without wasting another second, rafe was quick to take himself out of his boxers, a hiss leaving his lips as his length smacked against your tummy. peeling back the lace material of your underwear, he slid them down your legs until he caught sight of the absolute mess between your thighs.

laying you down on your back, rafe brought your knees up to your chest, using one hand to press on your lower abdomen and the other to guide himself between your folds. he was so hard, he had to use his thumb to keep the tip of his cock down so he could enter your needy cunt. he marveled at the size difference, the head of his length stopping just below your belly button. “fuck, i’m gonna wreck you..” he trailed off, toying with your clit before slipping inside, filling you up inch by inch until you were crying out in both pleasure and pain.

with the hand that he had on your stomach, he guided your own over the budge in your tummy, your eyes widening slightly as he started thrusting into you at a steady pace. “you feel that? ‘feel the way my cock fills you up to the fucking brim?” your eyes rolled back at the same time you whined out a ‘f-fuck, yes!’ into your palm. your walls stretched deliciously around the the welcomed intrusion that was his length, your pussy clenching around him for all that he had. the sounds falling from your lips were nothing short of pornographic, the moans and choked sobs only pushing rafe closer to the edge.

he sped up until his skin was slapping against your own, your back arching off of the bed when he slipped out and stroked your clit with the underside of his cock. you shrieked at the sensation, your legs trembling in sensitivity. “too much..” you shook your head, bringing your legs down to wrap around his waist instead. rafe groaned, your slick dripping down his length as he tapped your glossy folds. “you’re so fucking wet, i’m slipping right out,” he grunted, “this is what i do to you, ‘pretty girl?” he leaned down, nipping the sensitive part of your neck.

he kept himself nestled inside of you for a few moments, letting you revel in being so utterly full. you gave him an approving hum, your nails digging into his skin as he bit you softly across your collarbone. starting up his thrusts again, he slipped out as soon as he picked up the pace, the action making him curse under his breath. your eyes watered in frustration, your bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth. rafe saw your tears, the sight shooting straight to his cock. he loved seeing how delirious he made you, his chest filling up with pride as you looked up at him with that fucked-out gaze.

soon after he continued, your high was hitting you in intense waves, the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping in two as rafe watched your eyebrows knit together, the added mess between your thighs only making his hips stutter with his own climax painting your walls. “rafe!” you screamed in his ear, his thumb slipping between your lips for you to bite down on while he twitched and convulsed inside of you. a shiver ran down his back as he caged you tightly between his arms, his seed spilling out of you as you both went through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

once you were okay, rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, stroking the side of your face before rolling over to your side. “what’s your ring size?” he sighed, pulling you against his chest. you laughed softly, slightly confused at the words that left his mouth. “why?” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he glanced down at you, meeting your eyes. “are you kidding me? i need to lock this pussy down. like tonight.”

[shebrewscoffee]

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ 𝗄𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂 hated himself every time he ended up arguing with you.

hell, even if it’s unintentional, he couldn’t bear to see you isolate yourself instead of communicating, knowing it was when you just want to be alone. but the awful thoughts in your head (like he had another woman) making him wish he could take them all out of your mind.

even though you told him to go away, and used his full name, nanami wouldn’t stop. he’d hold you and reassured you with kind, soothing words.

and if you did, he’d just hold onto you and speak soothingly to calm you down. he brought you to the bed and made sure you both got cozy. he leaned against the headboard while you were in his lap.

he’d wipe away the tears on your face and the ones gathering in your eyes. his other hand would softly brush your cheek, as he apologized for the hurtful words he didn’t intend.

he’d take your knuckle and kiss the marriage ring on your index finger. your heart fluttered, even though you couldn't stand him. kissing every spot on it, he would later rest your hand on his chest so you can feel his heartbeat, making sure you know he’s yours; all while looking at you with affection as his hand gently caressed your hair.

if he successfully comforts you, he won’t let you go, not even to use the bathroom. he’s refuse to sleep by himself, worried you might escape. he’d sleep on the couch, the bathtub, or even the cabinet, but for you? don’t expect too much.

and when you wake up tomorrow, you would notice a breakfast is already prepared beside the coffee table, with a little note “i’m sorry for yesterday’s occurrence, my love. i've to go to work, but i already kissed your forehead beforehand.”

you found yourself smiling widely at the sight.

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — The soft splashing of water and gentle scrapes of your nails against his scalp made Sukuna’s eyes grow heavy, lashes falling shut as you worked behind him. Your presence was… soothing, he admitted privately in his head- a word he’d never associated with anything before you.

"You’re quiet tonight," you murmur, your breath warm against his ear. The gentle curve of your stomach presses against his back, and he could feel his unborn child’s curse energy- what little he could feel promised that the brat was going to be strong.

He didn’t answer immediately, too lost in the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. The king of curses, feared across lands, reduced to this- nearly purring under a pregnant woman’s gentle ministrations. The thought should have enraged him. Instead, he found himself leaning further back, his massive frame carefully controlled to avoid crushing you and that belly of yours.

Truth is, Sukuna couldn’t find the words to explain how your simple touch was undoing centuries of telling himself he couldn’t feel anything. How the sound of your humming as you focused on him made something in his chest constrict painfully… and how your swollen belly against his back filled him with a terrifying kind of joy and pride.

"Does it feel good at least?" You asked softly, working through a particularly stubborn tangle. The mouth on his stomach merely sighed in contentment.

"Mm," was all he could manage as he felt your smile against his shoulder, your lips brushing his skin in a whisper of a kiss.

Water droplets caught in his lashes as he opened his eyes partially, watching your shadow play across the room. Your fingers traced one of the black markings that adorned his body, and he tch’d at the fact he had to suppress a shudder.

"Suku-… Ryomen, tell me what troubles you, I can practically hear you thinking," your voice was barely above a whisper this time, your hands stilling on him, and for a moment, only the sound of dripping water filled the silence.

His multiple hands clenched into fists, "You're making me weak," he accused, "ruining me," he muttered.

Your hands moved to his shoulder, working a knot he hadn’t even realized was there, "m’not," you smiled, "I'm loving you. There's a difference."

Love... that dreaded word, and of course his child chose that moment to kick against your belly, as if agreeing with you. The little shit wasn’t even born yet and it was already picking sides.

"I should have killed you, spread your legs open and fucked your corpse," Sukuna sneered.

Sukuna could feel it, how that innocent smile of yours seared against his spine, followed by the melodious sound of laughter escaping your lips. Before you could think, the world shifted and you found yourself beneath his towering form, the waters surface fracturing into a thousand ripples around your bodies. His massive hand tapped your wrists above your head, another gripped your hip while the remaining two pressed where you womb was- where his child flourished, his hands trembling ever so slightly with the effort of gentle restraint.

He stared down at you, the water dripping from his hair leaving tracks along your face and neck, almost like blood from a fresh kill, but your eyes held no fear - only understanding. The mouth on his stomach hung open breathing heavily, "What have you done to me? I want to tear your heart out and rip your head off, but I also can't bear the thought of losing you, or that brat."

Slipping your arms around his neck, you smiled up at him, "Nothing you haven’t allowed."

"Watch your tongue, little lamb." The threat was hollow, and you both knew it. The kiss that followed was ever so desperate, sloppy and violent in its tenderness, but damn did it taste like the sweetest sin… Your response back- how you kissed him in return, your spit mingling with his, a soft moan on your tongue… It was better than any scream of terror he’d ever drawn from human lips. And he knew from that alone, you’d been right.

You hadn't done a thing he didn’t allow.

And for once, he didn't fight it.

Prt2.

[reidsreblogs]

𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).

7k words, new-ish established relationship, lots of fluff between angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, reader calls him aaron mostly

༺༻

The security for Aaron's building is weird. Weird as in extensive, intimidating, and extremely intricate. 

You'd really wanted to minimise his stress — the whole reason you're here is to bring him a forgotten sheet of paper that must've slipped out at your kitchen table from one of his case files because you don't want him to have to make up a new copy — but you're too scared to go in. 

You pull your phone out reluctantly and dial in his number, eager to hear his voice even if the security detail a few feet away are freaking you out. 

"Hotchner." 

"Hi, handsome," you say softly. 

There's a small pause. For a split-second a nightmare situation runs through your head, his low voice asking, Who is this?

"Hi, honey." 

You beam so wide it aches, forcing a pleased little breath from your mouth. 

"What do you need?" he asks. 

"I'm outside of your building but I'm too afraid to come in. I'm not sure they'll let me. I need a badge, right?" 

"You're outside." 

You pick at the hem of your sweater, a loose thread marring your otherwise pretty outfit. You'll admit to dressing up unnecessarily to see him. Nice clothes, your most subtle perfume. 

"I found something confidential this morning, a piece of paper. I didn't read it, I promise."

"You really shouldn't be here," he says. 

Your smile abruptly drops. You press the phone closer to your face and wait, hoping he's not talking to you. When it's clear that he is you cringe, the silence pervasive and the most awkward it's ever been with him. 

"Sorry." Your apology is quick, quiet. "I thought it would be easier for you. I didn't mean to… overstep." 

"It's not that. It's busy. Would you hang on to it for me? Maybe I can come and get it tonight, bring dinner." 

You love how he says it. It's not a question, not an assumption. And it's a relief. If he wants to see you on a night where you hadn't planned to get together, he can't be mad at you for being here. 

"Yeah, please. If you want to." 

"I want to. Okay?"

Not for confirmation, it's shorthand. You okay? 

"Yeah. Okay. Have a good rest of your day, handsome." 

"Bye." 

You like to think you can hear the sound of his phone clicking shut, imagining him at his desk in one of his neat suits with a case file open in front of him. You're not sure on the specifics of his job but you know he looks good doing it, and you also know he's very, very busy. You don't take his clipped goodbye as anything but efficiency. 

Maybe you should. 

—

The next time Aaron inadvertently hurts your feelings is in person. 

Compared to him, you wouldn't say you're an incredibly exciting character. Your day job is tame, your hobbies are invaried. You like to watch TV, see movies, you enjoy people-watching. When you hold that stuff up to his job, his profiling, and his hobbies (seriously, who likes triathlon?) you feel rather immature. 

You know deep down that hobbies are hobbies and that your job doesn't define how special you are, but when you're with someone like Aaron who lives and breathes his profession it can play with your head. 

"Is there something interesting about my shirt?" he asks, a murmur under the sound of the TV. 

You look up from the hem of his nice button down and smile, a half-smile. You want it to be more genuine than it is. "Don't you already know?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"You can tell I'm…" You frown, dropping the starched material of his shirt from between your fingers. "I've given myself up, haven't I?" 

"A little," he concedes sympathetically. 

You huff your defeat and let your cheek fall into his chest. Nice to seek comfort from him, nicer for him to give it to you, his arm rising from behind your shoulders to hook around your neck. 

"I'm not profiling you," he says, voice close to the top of your head, "I'm wondering what you're thinking."

You relax under his touch, his big hand settling in the curve of your neck. A semi-hug. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his front completely, your unhappy thoughts dissolving with any tension and leaving only a want to kiss his stupidly nice neck.

"It doesn't matter," you say. 

"You sure?" 

You lift your head from his chest. He has to lean back to meet your eyes and he does it unflinchingly, a bemused smile playing on his lips. 

"I'm good. Better, if you would…" 

"Yeah?" he asks quietly, leaning down, down. 

You can't withstand his charms. He knows exactly how to get you, his smile and his eyes, his lashes kissing in the corners as they close. 

He's imposing in the best way, a heavy presence that overwhelms you. All you can think about is the way he nudges his nose with yours to encourage your head back and the heat of his lips as they touch your own. His arm tightens behind your head.

You try to rise onto your knees, hands vying for his neck and his pitch dark hair. You're doubly pleased when you feel his mouth turning up into a smile, a mirror of your own. 

"Slow down," he chides gently. 

You're about to say something unlike yourself, something loud and brash. Speed up, Hotchner. You're hopped up on the giddiness that comes with being close to him. You're just about to say it when his phone rings. 

He gives you a short, hard kiss. 

"Hotchner." 

You sit back in his lap, his hand sliding to the small of your back to keep you close as his face clouds with confusion. You attempt to climb off of him because you're not a sack of sugar — you're probably giving him numb thighs — but he won't let you.

"Garcia," he says eventually, "is this an emergency?" His tone makes it clear to you that whatever it is Garcia is saying, it's far from an emergency. 

His hand climbs up, over your shoulder. You shudder as he tugs your earlobe, a mild and thoughtless gesture. You're so busy shivering you almost miss his playful eye roll. 

"I haven't changed my mind. Yeah. Thanks for the invitation, but I'm perfectly happy where I am tonight." 

Whatever Garcia says makes him laugh. If you weren't sitting as close to him as you are you wouldn't have heard it. 

"Have fun. Bye," he says succinctly. He snaps his phone closed in one hand, the other dropping from your ear to your shoulder. It's heavy with a remorse you can't allow. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," you assure, tilting your head toward his hand and pretending to size him up. You don't know how to profile, but you're a good guess. 

"You're not telling me something." 

"No?" He blinks in surprise.

"No. You've been invited somewhere with your work friends, and you usually go. Why not tonight?" 

"I think that's obvious." 

"You don't have to flake on your friends for me, Aaron." 

He smiles as you say his name. "Like I told Garcia, I am perfectly happy where I am." 

You hide your face in his neck lest he see your doped up smile. "You have nice friends," you murmur, working your hands under the hem of his shirt. 

"I think you'd love Garcia after the infinitial terror." 

"I think I would too. She's good to you, after all. Makes me like her… Maybe one day we can all go out for drinks." 

You don't have to be a profiler to feel the way he tenses. 

"Yeah," he says. It sounds very much like Probably not. 

That's a strumming hurt. Aaron is so nice, so so nice, and he treats you like you're gold dust. He does all the movie boyfriend stuff like flowers, silver earrings on your birthday (with tiny diamonds!), dinner reservations at dauntingly fancy restaurants. And he does stuff you didn't know men did, like calling you near every night to make sure you had a good day, and praising even your smallest achievements, and leaving notes in places he knows you'll find them on hard days. You don't know how he knows when days are hard, he just does. 

You'd figured all of this stuff meant he must really like you, might even love you though he's yet to say it, and that's why his lack of enthusiasm stings. 

Why doesn't he want you to meet his friends? He's obviously very proud of what they do at the BAU. They're not the issue. 

It's you. 

You cuddle him as a pit forms in your chest. 

"You're tired?" he asks.

Funny how it's his comfort you crave when he's the one who's hurt your feelings. You're a little lopsided being upset with him, and you know if you tell him how you feel he'll try to make it up to you, but you're too afraid of the other alternative — a fight. Right now his arms are a sanctity you wouldn't trade for anything. You hope he feels the same. 

You're not sure anymore. 

"Yeah," you say roughly. 

Your eyes burn as he pats your back. "Let's go to bed, honey." 

You'll just… have to prove you're someone worth showing off. 

—

Your plan, loosely titled 'Get Aaron Hotchner to Show Me Off,' is going about as well as you'd thought it would. 

If Aaron doesn't want me to meet his friends there must be a reason. You've been thinking about it and it can't be a coincidence that he hadn't wanted you to return his paperwork a few weeks ago. That must've been something significant. 

But what? 

You start with your hair. Aaron has expressed a lovely and heaping handful of times that he thinks you have pretty hair. He plays with it often, usually when he's limp and tired from a long day. You've always taken care of it. Now you're going to the extreme — hair masks, hair appointments you can't afford, anything to make it look perfect. 

It doesn't work toward the plan, though your boyfriend certainly notices. 

"Your hair," is the very first thing he says when he sees you, stopping only in his smiling assessment to kiss your cheek in greeting. 

"Is it okay?" you ask, turning your face to one side. 

"More than okay. Do you want to go in?" 

So it's kind of a bust. But that's okay, you weren't expecting to get a haircut and magically be invited to team dinners. You persevere, and eventually you forget the plan for the night when Aaron promises to show you how much he likes your new look with a hand at the small of your back. 

Phase two, your clothes. 

You dress as nicely as you can but you're no fashion guru and you can't afford an entirely new wardrobe. You get a bunch of magazines and look for fall staples. What's in this year, and how do you style it? You buy a couple of pieces that fit your budget and try to work around them. 

Aaron's favourite are the new corduroy pants. They aren't a great fit. 

"They're too tight," you lament, pulling the fabric from your thighs where they hug snugly. They're a desaturated sort of burgundy, not bright by any means but a good 'pop of colour'. 

"I know," he says. 

You gawp at him, and when he gets his fingers on the buttons afterward, you break. 

"You like them?" you ask worriedly. 

"What makes you think I don't?" 

"Besides how eager you are to get them off of me?" 

He hooks two fingers in your belt loops and holds your gaze as he tugs them down. "I like them." 

A good time, but still no dice. You suppose a new look, besides looking smarter, doesn't actually prove your merit as a girlfriend. Maybe he wants something a little more concrete before he introduces you to people. Maybe things aren't as good for him as they are for you, and he doesn't see the point. 

That particular thought sparks a wave of panicked tears. 

The next time you see him, it's like he can tell. You wonder if he has x-ray vision, some sixth sense for tear stains that he has yet to tell you about. He's been gone for a few days in St. Louis, and when he'd come back he'd spent the weekend with Jack, so it's a whole seven days since the last time you saw him and your worries have festered. Not even his doting phone calls had kept the thought at bay. 

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 

You open your door and there he is in a quarter zip with an overnight bag, matte suit cover draped over one arm. 

"Hi," you say, unsure. 

"Did I get uglier while I was away?" he asks seriously. 

You startle. "No, of course not." 

He smiles and meets you in the doorway, your head dipping back to accommodate. "I think I've had it too good," he says lightly, bringing a tentative hand to your cheek. "Are you okay?" 

You're trying to work out what he means, and when you do your heart skips. "Handsome!" you say urgently. "Hi, handsome. No, you didn't get uglier, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, and-" 

He kisses you. It's malaligned because of your parted lips, but it's good. You'd really missed him. 

"You're definitely still handsome," you murmur. 

"Doesn't count. I begged for it-" 

"No!" you deny, lifting on tiptoes to give him another kiss and stop his slander. "It does count because you're always handsome, I promise. I think I slept too much and miswired my brain when I woke up." 

"I don't mind that you didn't call me handsome," he says firmly, "now let me in. We have dinner to make." 

"Right, sorry."

Aaron frowns at you, then. It's weird. He frowns at his phone, at the TV, at nothing, but he doesn't frown at you. 

"Is something wrong?" he asks as you traverse down the hall. You hold your hands out for his suit and bag to take to your room and hang up, ignoring his question. He doesn't give them to you. "Is there?" 

"No." You smile as you say it. 

You're an awful liar, especially with him. He makes you more nervous than anyone because he's your boyfriend and because he's a literal human lie detector. 

"You didn't even try." 

You cover your face with both hands and groan dramatically, spinning around and away from him. You don't want him to see how flustered you are. 

"Don't make fun," you beg. 

"You're embarrassed." 

"Teach you that at the Bureau, do they?"  

You stop in the doorway of the kitchen, distracted by your own racing thoughts when suddenly there are two long arms needling around your waist and pulling you backward. You gasp a laugh and squirm uselessly to escape. 

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. 

You tip your head back, hands falling from your face in surprise. "What for, handsome?" 

His laugh fans out over your face but when he speaks again there's no humour there, only sincerity, "For being gone so long." 

"Well don't be. You can't exactly help it, Agent Hotchner," you hum. 

"Oh, don't." 

"Going out and saving the world takes time. I knew that when I met you, 'n I know it now. You don't have to say sorry." 

"I'm not apologising for my work. I'm apologising that we've," — his nose presses into the highest point of your cheek — "been apart." 

"I did miss you," you relent. 

He presses his lips to your cheek. "I missed you too." 

It's a nice distraction. You'd missed one another, and now you're together. You forget for a while what you'd worried, and only when he leaves again do you remember. 

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 

You're not stupid enough to think Hotch is using you for anything, or that he's insincere. You're level-headed, though. His affection for you isn't necessarily permanent no matter how genuine. 

You don't want to be overbearing. The offers start slow. 

I can wash that for you. Of course I'm sure, I'm great with whites. 

Maybe I could make you lunch tomorrow. You can take it in, spare yourself the federal cafeteria. 

Yeah, I got them shined for you. They were looking a little dull at the toes. 

"Do you want me to press these?" you ask. 

Aaron looks up from where he's sitting in bed. You'd been out on a foray to the bathroom and have come to a stop by his bedroom door where a pair of black slacks hang in wait for the morning. 

He pushes a darling pair of reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. "No." 

"Are you sure? It won't take five minutes." 

"I'll do it in the morning." 

"I can do it for you, then. Just wake me up," you say, pushing back the sheets on the empty side of his bed. Your socked foot bumps his thigh as you pull up your legs. "What are you reading?" 

He puts his book on the nightstand, takes off his glasses. It's too bad. He really suits them.

"I want to talk to you about something." 

You laugh and slide down onto the flat of your back. 

"What?" he asks, confused, the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes. 

"It's unlike you to start that way. You always cut around the fat." You bring his bed sheets up to your nose and squint at him. "'M I in trouble?" 

"Depends." 

"On what?" 

"You know I care about you." 

Your heart somersaults. That feels very much like a break-up opener, and he must see your anxiety on your face. He wrangles your hand from under the sheets and leans over you, his face in your eyeline, his fingers massaging yours until they ache in the good way. 

"Do you know how much?" he asks. 

"Is that a trick?" 

"No." 

You wait in case there's something he's going to add. When there's nothing, you pull the sheets to your chin and tamp down your perplexed pouting. 

"Yeah, I know how much." 

"I'd like to tell you how much." He pulls your joined hands toward his jaw. "I know I'm not always here, but I'm always thinking of you. In roundabout ways." 

"What ways?" you ask. Self-indulgence.

Aaron Hotchner indulges you. 

"I see," — he kisses your hand — "trees. I've seen a thousand trees, but when I see the bigger ones I wish you could see them too." 

It's a dropping sensation, near uncomfortable, that's how gutted his confession makes you feel. "You do?" 

"Sometimes women walk past me and I swear that it's you because they smell like your perfume. Flowers growing through cracks in the sidewalk. Lights through the jet window." It's the kind of stuff you like to point out to him when you're together. 

He stares at you, a long, reassuring look. 

He deserves a better reply, but all you can say is, "I think of you all the time, too." 

"I love that you want to take care of me, but you don't need to wear yourself out." 

You bite the inside of your bottom lip. So that's what this is about. Aaron has profiled you, and now he's being the gentleman that he is and assuaging your fears. 

"I'm not," you say quickly. 

He understands that you're saying I'm not wearing myself out rather than I'm not taking care of you. You are taking care of him, the best that you can, the best that he'll allow. 

"I can press my own pants," he says, leaning down for a kiss. "I can shine my own shoes." He kisses you again. You screw your eyes closed as the warmth of his breath heats your cupid's bow. "I can do my own laundry." He pulls back, dropping your hand in favour of your neck. His thumb pushes against your windpipe gently, palm hot over your skin. "I'll accept the lunches, if you're sure you don't mind making them." 

You feel as excited as you did the very first time he touched you, chest full of a dizzying pleasure, heart bump-bump-bumping a racing rhythm. His thumb strokes a lazy quarter circle into your neck. He can probably feel your pulse, see the way your eyes have blown. 

"I love making them," you say, breathless in earnest.

"The team think I'm spoiled." 

"You aren't spoiled." You're adored, you want to say. You cup his cheek instead. "You'd be spoiled if I brought them by everyday." 

Aaron doesn't stay with you and you don't stay with him enough to make him lunch everyday. He might get one or two a week, and that's when he's home. 

"Wouldn't that be nice," he mutters, his fingers pushing between your neck and the pillow underneath. 

You hike up on to your elbows slowly to avoid headbutting him. "Well, I could." 

His easy, loving smile flattens. "No." 

"I wouldn't mind. My lunch break is super long and it only takes me ten minutes to get there. We could have lunch together." 

"That's not going to work." 

"Okay." You wish you could take it as calmly as he says it. You sound choked up. You are choked up. 

"Sweetheart, the office is a war zone. Half the time I'm not there." 

"I get it," you say, dropping flat onto your back again. 

"Sweetheart." 

"Handsome," you mirror, putting on your best unaffected smile. 

You can't hold it very long, his concerned brows too much to deal with. You turn your head to the left and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, throwing at least half of your expression into darkness. 

Aaron doesn't give up. Does he ever? He cups your cheek and pulls you back to face him. 

"I can't promise any lunch dates. But I was thinking we'd go out for dinner next week, Friday," he begins hopefully, "somewhere nice." 

It feels like an apology and you're desperate to take it. 

"I don't need somewhere nice, s'long as you're there 'n not in Kansas, or Colorado, or Idaho, or New Jersey-" 

He hums and drops his head until his nose lies against your own. "Gonna go through all fifty?" 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Hotchner?" 

"I love your voice," he says agreeably. 

Disarmed, you let him charm you, and you let him push it all out of your mind. Plan foiled, your fears fall on the backburner for a third time. 

—

His fourth rejection is the first that feels entirely intentional, though you won't know until later. 

Mostly because Aaron pushes you. 

Far from cruel, the two of you are actually out walking in the city when he forces you into an alleyway, your fancy drink sloshing down the front of your sweater. 

You laugh in surprise and almost roll your ankle, hands clinging to his coat to stop an unfortunate fall. 

"Holy shit, Hotchner, learn to be a gentleman," you say as he presses up against you. "What are you doing? I'm soaked, you're gonna ruin your sleeves." 

He kisses you hard. It's a surprise, your head jumping back against the wall to find his hand already there to protect it. 

It's worth noting that Aaron is a sweetheart in practically every aspect of life. He once apologised after having walked in on you changing, which is ridiculous because most of the nights where you're together he insists on getting you some sort of undressed (even if it's just to help you into your pyjamas).

Needless to say, he's never kissed you like this. Your emotions spike so suddenly you laugh into his mouth, a girlish peel of giggles that you'll regret afterward but can't stop for the life of you. 

He shushes you. "Sorry," he whispers, as ill-composed as you've ever heard him. "Sorry, just-" He cuts you both off with another bruising kiss. 

Your laughter fades into sighs and little gasps for air. Somewhere near the alleyway opening a group of people pass by, a jovial series of cheers and friendly laughter trailing behind them. Aaron presses you further into the wall behind, and slowly, slowly winds down. Weirdly, you think his last couple of pecks feel sorry, softer and sweeter. 

Your lips buzz. 

"Why'd you buy me that fancy drink if you were gonna tip it all over me?" you ask good-naturedly when he finally pulls back. 

"You looked too nice today." His deadpan voice wars with the smile on his face. "I'm sorry. We'll go find you something to change into." 

"Was it really that important that you kiss me right then?" you ask, feigning disdain. 

He looks out toward the main street again. "Yes. Where do you want to go? There's a Nordstrom." 

You take a sip of your drink, unsurprised when he takes your hand and starts to lead you toward the department stores. "Have you ever been inside of a Nordstrom?" 

"I'm sure I'll figure it out."

— 

The fifth time is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Or the brick. It feels heavier than a strand of straw. It's technically already come to pass, so it's an invisible brick. 

You're out for coffee by yourself which really means you're out for something sweet, bundled up in a coat and scarf to fight the night-time chill. 

"Thank you," you tell the barista, accepting your drink and receipt with a smile. 

You turn around and almost walk straight into a pretty dark-haired woman with really nice hair. You make a note to tell Aaron about it when you see him next, not because he'll care but because he likes to hear what you've been thinking about. And right now, all you can think about is her feathered bangs. 

I want nice bangs, you think offhandedly. 

"I'm sorry," you say, trying to move around her. 

She steps into your path. 

"Sorry," you say again. 

She's squinting at you, thin eyebrows peeking out from behind her hair. "Sorry, have we met?" she asks. 

You try not to be too hasty, but you're not sure you've ever seen her. You stare at her as she stares at you, and you get a tiny inkling of familiarity, but it's gone as quick as it comes. 

"I'm really sorry, I don't think so," you murmur, tilting your head to one side. 

She bites her lip, let's it go. "Oh!" she says excitedly, voice bright with triumph. "Oh oh oh! I know who you are, you're Hotch's mysterious girlfriend!" 

Your smile turns quizzical. You know nearly everybody calls Aaron 'Hotch'. Whenever you try it he either gives you the silent treatment or covers your mouth with his hand. 

"I'm Emily Prentiss, I work in the BAU," she explains rapidly, shoving her purse under her hand to offer it for a handshake. 

You do the same and shake her hand. Introducing yourself feels awkward. She knows you. You don't have a clue who she is. Only- 

"Oh, I know who you are now, I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" you say contritely. "I've seen photos of you and the team together. It's really nice to meet you." 

She nods. "It's nice to meet you too. I have to say, we've been dying to meet you. We even have a betting pool on what you're like, because Hotch barely says a thing about you." 

You try not to look as devastated as you feel, re-wrapping your fingers around your cup. "No?" 

"We didn't even know what you looked like until we saw you the other day. We came looking to say hi and you'd disappeared." 

You lick your dry lips. "The other day?" 

"Yeah, last Friday. We were out for impromptu drinks, celebrating a case. You know, you should come with sometime. It would be fun." 

Emily talks each word with an undertone of good humour. She's stunning, bubbly, and her hair flows around her face with every movement. 

"He really doesn't talk about me?" 

Emily drops into girl code niceties, backtracking. "I mean, not too often. We catch him smiling at his phone and hear your voice sometimes when you call. He seems happy. Well, happy as Hotch can seem." She swallows. "He's a private creature."

He doesn't talk about me. 

You pretend to check your watch. 

"It was really good to meet you," you say, voice airy with a feigned nonchalance. 

"Yeah, of course. Super nice," Emily says. 

You smile at her. It's more like a grimace. By the time you're outside of the coffee shop you're too upset to care, a humiliated shock of tears brewing behind your achy eyes. 

You hold your cup to your chest and unzip your purse to tuck the receipt inside, trying to maintain some control. There's a folded note inside, thick cardstock quartered. 

You take it out. Your fingers tremble with offended adrenaline. 

You're beautiful. 

Short, sweet, extremely Aaron Hotchner. Too bad you can't believe it. 

Emily Prentiss being out and about means the BAU are done for the night, though whether your workaholic boyfriend got the memo is anyone's best guess. You're not sure if it's better or worse if he's in work when you call. You're so upset that you can't help yourself. 

"Hi, honey." 

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" you ask, staving off tears with all your willpower. 

"I wouldn't write it if I didn't mean it. That one took you a while to find, I was-" 

"Are you sure?" 

"...Are you okay?" 

You glare up at the dark sky rather than answer, blinking hard to force down your tears. You really don't wanna cry, but it's been a bad day and meeting Emily has made it worse. No matter how hard you try to think otherwise, all signs point to Aaron being ashamed of you. Embarrassed to be with you. He's hiding your relationship from everybody. 

"Am I- Is it my clothes? My job?" 

"What's wrong with your clothes?" 

"You tell me, detective." 

You're getting angry. He's- he's lying, or he's messing with you. He's making fun of you. At least that's how it feels. 

"Where are you right now?" he asks. You can picture him shrugging on his suit jacket, putting his files in order to come and meet you. 

You don't want to see him. "I'm at the coffee shop by your apartment. I actually ran into somebody, and I'm feeling very well-informed." A first tear bumps down your cheek. You ignore it. 

"I don't understand." 

"I don't understand! What am I doing wrong?" You bite your tongue in last ditch efforts to remain intact, but the tears won't hold off any longer. You swallow a sob. "What's wrong with me?" 

"Nothing. Nothing, honey, nothing is wrong with you." 

You wipe your wet face with mean hands. 

"Stay where you are. I'll come and meet you." 

"No. I don't wanna see you." 

"Honey-" 

"Leave me alone, Aaron." 

You hang up. You walk for a while, feeling as though steam is rising off of your flushed skin with every clumsy step. It had been a short phone call and already you can't remember what you said, all you can feel is angry, and then that runs out and all you can do is cry. 

You've never felt incredibly attractive. Aaron makes you feel better than that — he has the uncanny ability to inspire self-confidence with a loaded look alone. He can smile at you and your skin feels like it's glowing. 

So why doesn't that translate? If he thinks you're so pretty, why does he insist on hiding you away?

Because that day, he'd seen his friends. He could've introduced you but he took you down the alley and kissed you so you wouldn't be seen. That's not too busy: That's secretive. 

That kiss. You fooled yourself into thinking you must've looked irresistible. Fuck. You went home that night thinking you were the best thing since sliced bread. 

"I'm so stupid," you mutter, sniffling. 

Your self deprecation is muffled by the sound of a slowing car. You don't look up. There are two possibilities for who it is, and you don't want to deal with either. 

The car parks and then you do look up. Despite how mad you are you're not suicidal, and Aaron's given you extensive coaching on sex trafficking. 

It's him. Shocker. 

You're half-expecting him to reprimand you. You didn't look up until I parked. You know it takes five seconds to snatch and incapacitate someone? 

He looks haphazardly put together. Suit jacket on but tie loosened, he rounds the hood of his car and joins you on the sidewalk. You don't want to play games with him. He really doesn't need it, he didn't sign up for it, and drama isn't your style, but you're sick of this. 

"You want to tell me what you're thinking?" he asks, standing an amicable two feet away, hands at his hips.

"I'm really mad." 

"What else?" 

"I'm thinking," you say, looking down at your cold hands, "that you… That you're…" You rub your cheek into your shoulder to hide a fresh tear. "I don't know, Aaron. I'm thinking lots of things." 

"Do you want to think about them in the car?" he asks. 

Do you want to talk about it?

You don't want to talk about it. You don't like crying in front of him on a good day. 

You're pretty sure he'll combust on the spot if he knows you're walking home alone in the dark and distracted. 

You get in the car. He has the good sense not to touch your shoulders like he normally would. 

You buckle as soon as you've closed the passenger side door. "I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at your knees. 

"Let's forget that, for now." He turns the key but doesn't pull out. "Tell me what's upset you and I'll explain." 

"I met Emily Prentiss." 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye.

"She told me that you don't talk about me. Ever. That they didn't even know what I looked like." 

You know he's listening but he keeps his eyes on the road, and you chance a look at the side of his face. He doesn't seem mad. 

"I don't talk about you often," he says. "But that doesn't mean never… It's true that they didn't know what you look like." 

"Until last week, when they saw us together and you pulled me into an alley so they couldn't see me." 

"Yes." 

Your lower lip trembles. "Do you see why that would upset me?" You're asking genuinely. 

"Yeah, honey." 

Your head jolts up. He's diverting his gaze from the road to you intermittently, offering up a regretful grimace. The oncoming headlights splash over his work worn face. 

"Then why are you doing this? What's so wrong with me that you won't even admit we're together?" 

"Nothing is wrong with you. I'm not ashamed of you," he says firmly, volume rising. 

"Then why?" 

His eyebrows pull together. "You're the best person I've ever met that isn't my son, and I selfishly don't want to share you yet. I also don't want to scare you off." 

You pull your sleeves over your hands and turn in your seat, wiping your damp cheeks as he continues. 

"My job is hard, and it's dangerous. It has jeopardised the safety and wellbeing of people I love before. So no, I'm not eager to introduce you to my world. The more intertwined with my life that you become, the more danger I put you in, and…" The car slows down again. He turns to look at you. "And I like that I'm the only one who knows you like this.

"I have been hiding you. I have. But it was a," — his tone turns wry — "misguided attempt at keeping you all to myself. Safe, and to myself." 

You're finding it difficult to be mad with him. 

He's finding it difficult to maintain his poker face. A fat tear rolls down your cheek and you're not sure what it's made of, fatigue or relief or plain hurt, whatever it is he doesn't like it. He pulls over. 

You hold still as he pinches the tear off of your chin. 

"How long have you felt like this?" 

"Like what?" you ask wetly. 

"Like this." He opens his hand against your cheek. It encompasses your face; you lean in, hungry for reassurance. 

"I don't know." 

"This is why you changed your hair. Your clothes. And started making my lunch." 

You cover his hand with your own. "I actually really like making your lunches." 

You stare at each other until suddenly you're laughing, sniffly, short of breath. Aaron joins in soon after. He always sounds so surprised to be laughing.

"I'm glad," he says when your laughter has abated, pinky and ring finger caressing down the slope of your cheek. "I really like having them. Rossi can't hide how jealous he is." 

"They know about the lunches?" 

His mindless petting pauses. "They know about the lunches. You're not a secret. I'm… selfish with the details. I'm selfish." Aaron takes back his hand. "I'm sorry." 

You take as deep a breath as you can. "Okay." 

"Yeah?" 

"Mm. Can we go home?" 

His eyebrows jump and swiftly smooth again. "Yeah, we can go home." He chucks your chin and gets the car moving again. 

You watch him drive. 

When you get home, he doesn't mind reassuring you some more. Actually, it's like he needs to do it. You'd love to say that it's overkill and that his low murmurings of praise are unnecessary, but you can't. 

"You're lovely," he says seriously across two plates of pasta. Again through the mirror when you're brushing your teeth, and again when you've curled into his chest for the night. You're lovely. Nothing that needs hiding. 

You hear him on the phone early in the morning, half asleep. 

"Hey, Dave. Yeah. Okay. Uh… No, that's fine." He laughs under his breath. "Yeah, if she was awake I'd ask her to make you one. I think she would… Okay. See you in forty." 

You bury your tired face into his pillows and beam. 

—

+1 

Aaron's office is terrifyingly hectic. You can see already that the bullpen is full to bursting with agents, including but not limited to his special team of profilers. There's the distinct smell of coffee, sharp and burning, and then the underlay of printer ink, new paper. 

You can't believe you're here. 

You're not brave enough to introduce yourself to his team, and half aren't at their desks anyways. You hover in the doorway until somebody needs to get past you, taking a reluctant step inside.

You shouldn't wait for Aaron. You should be brave. You're a grown up, and you're bringing your grown up partner his very grown up lunch. You'd wanted desperately to do this. The least that you can do is do it by yourself. 

You've scrapped most of the fall staples but kept the burgundy pants Aaron likes so much at his request. They feel insanely tight on your thighs, as does your collar. In fact, the room has definitely shrunk since you got here. 

Like an idiot, Aaron says your name loud and clear, standing with a hand on the railings at the top of the instep. You hadn't even noticed him emerging from his office.

His voice demands — commands — attention. People turn in their seats, first toward him, and then toward you. 

All eyes on me. 

You don't run but you don't walk either, weaving through desk chairs and people looking a mix of busy and curious.

"You're being cruel," you say as you approach him, a brown paper bag held close to your abdomen. 

"Hi, honey," he says. He wears a knowing smile, all dark and tall and handsome as he starts down the stairs to meet you. 

"Don't punish me." 

"Is that what you'd call this?" he asks, hand quick to clasp your shoulder, glueing you in place so he can kiss your forehead.

And yes, this is what you'd wanted. The doting boyfriend not just at home but at work, too.

That doesn't mean it isn't really, really embarrassing. 

"Is everyone looking at me?" you murmur. 

He slips his arm behind your shoulders to walk you up the stairs. "Yes." His voice drops lower. "At one place specifically, I imagine." 

"What part is that, Agent?" 

He laughs and opens his office door to beckon you inside. "Don't start." 

༺༻

my first hotch fic omg. i did a big character study beforehand but i doubt it's entirely in character, hotch is a difficult character to write for! (and im only at season 4). but this was so fun and he's hot so it's worth it. if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging! i promise it makes a difference to me (and also i love seeing what people thought). thank you for reading!! ♥

[andvys]

Secrets I have held in my heart (are harder to hide than I thought)E.M.

⭐︎ Warnings: 18+, mdni! idiots to lovers, best friends to lovers, smut smut smut, lots of pining, mentions of unrequited feelings (they're not), slight angst, unprotected sex, breeding kink? kinda. alcohol and weed consumption. high sex?

⭐︎ Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

⭐︎ Word count: 20.4k

⭐︎ Summary: A weekend alone with Eddie at Steve's cabin reveals all yours and his deepest desires, feelings you were too afraid to act upon bubbling to the surface, leading to a steamy night that might change you and your best friend forever.

⭐︎ Author's note: I've been meaning to write a best friends to lovers with Eddie for a while now (especially after writing ikyllatk, if you know you know. this is Cheer and Eddie to me in a different universe hehe). @hellfire--cult and I went feral over this idea and we've been talking about this since foreverrrrr and here we are finally! thank you for inspiring me, love ♡

⭐︎ the library

divider made by @cafekitsune

The sun is beating down on your skin, kissing it with warmth as the cold water from the lake is still clinging to your body, making goosebumps appear as you shiver the slightest bit. Your eyes are closed, a content smile rests on your face, despite the way your blue lips tremble. Birds are chirping all around you, the trees rustle whenever the wind blows, the water splashes when your best friend makes his way out of the lake, cursing a few times when he steps over the sharp rocks on the ground. 

You don’t open your eyes just yet but you listen to him moving closer and closer to where you’re laying on the pink towel you threw on the grass earlier. You don’t have to take a look to know that he is staring at you, he always is. Like a weight on your body, his stare always feels like a warm blanket, heating up your insides and making you feel something you shouldn’t.

Eddie’s eyes are roaming your body, your glistening bare skin, the skimpy bikini bottoms that are only held together by the strings on the sides, the little bow coming undone slowly. He kneels down before you, making a gasp fall from your lips when the water from his hair drips on your belly and his cold hands touch your hip, fingers reaching for the strings so he can fix the little bow. 

You open your eyes to find him looking down with a smug smile as he plays with the strings on your bottoms, re-tying it for you. Your breath hitches in your throat from the touch of his hand and the closeness of him, if you were to sit up, your noses would bump together but you stay in place, only pushing yourself up on your elbows. 

“I’m sorry, sweets,” he chuckles softly, taking his sweet time as his fingertips graze your bare hip, “didn’t mean to get you wet,” he smirks, a look of mischief flashes in his eyes as water continues to drip from his body onto yours. 

“Are you sure?” You challenge him the way you always do, blinking at him innocently as you bring your knees up higher and bite your lip, making him gulp and blush instantly. 

You always know how to break him. 

Eddie is oh so confident and flirty, throwing looks and comments your way that are a little too suggestive for someone who is considered a best friend, but the moment you join in on his game, even if only subtly, he turns into a blushing mess, no longer the confident, cocky guy he wishes to be. 

But even when he turns into this, blushing and nervous, you can still feel that one certain energy radiating off him and it makes you squirm, it fills you with curiosity and the urge to cross that invisible line, your deepest desires, the ones that are locked away begging to be released. You never let them, you never even looked or paid attention to what you really wanted or craved. You played his game, you flirted back, you teased him but you never admitted to yourself that there was… something. 

“Hm, no,” Eddie murmurs, suggestively. He ties the knot, strongly and then, he hooks his finger around the strap, he pulls it back and lets it snap against your skin, making you jolt in your place, a tiny gasp falling from your lips once more as a bigger smirk appears on his face. His eyes roam your body, he takes you in fully before he leans back and plops down on his own towel, laying down, he places his arm behind his head, closing his eyes to the sun, he lets out a sigh of contentment, acting as though he didn’t just touch you the way best friends normally don’t do. Asshole. 

“This is nice, I’m glad we came out here.” 

You hum in agreement, taking advantage of the fact that his eyes are closed, you allow yourself to take a closer, better look at the man who had become your best and closest friend. He is attractive, very handsome, you aren’t blind, you never have been but he is your friend, you never allowed yourself to look at him a certain way but lately it’s become harder to stay so… blind, to not let his lingering touches make you weak in the knees, to not let his comments fill you with giddiness, to not feel something when he holds you in his arms, when he plays with your hair or places his hand on your thigh when you’re in his passenger seat. 

You don’t know where this sudden change has come from, it’s always been that way with him, from the very beginning, he’s been touchy and affectionate with you but it didn’t always make you so excited, it’s been a recent development, something that Nancy and Robin teased you about, they saw your reactions whenever he kissed your cheek and called you pet names, whenever he walked into a room only smiling the moment his eyes would meet yours. 

You never noticed it before, the feelings he left you with after all his sweet gestures and touches, only when your friends had brought it up to you, leaving you a blushing and a confused mess, did you start to open your eyes… a little, and suddenly things started to change, your reactions to his comments, no matter if they are flirty or sweet, your reactions to his lingering touches, the way his fingers would play with yours, the way they would drum against your skin, so very close to the hem of your skirt or your shirt, the way he would tuck your hair behind your ear or wipe the foam off your upper lip after taking the first sip of your morning latte before taking his thumb into his mouth and licking it off, moaning while doing so – what was normal before, suddenly wasn’t anymore, everything he did, everything he does now drives you crazy and leaves you yearning for more but you never dared to be the one to take another step forward, to cross that daring line, to make the first real move. 

He is still Eddie, your best friend, your soulmate, the person you don’t want to lose, especially over something like this, over reading into something that might not be there, over losing control of your own feelings. After all, this could all just be a part of… him. Maybe it’s just who he is, affectionate, teasing, flirty, daring. Maybe he is like that with everybody, not just you. 

But maybe not, maybe you are the only one and maybe, just maybe he is waiting for you to be the one to make another move, to take another step, maybe he has been waiting, maybe he has been waiting for a while now. 

You bite your lips so hard, you almost rip the skin open, your eyes are glued to his form, to the way his chest rises up and down, his wet hair a mess around him, lashes fluttering as his eyes are squeezed shut, your fingers itch to touch the ink on his pale skin, you lick your lips as your eyes follow his happy trail, mouth watering at the way his swim trunks are so low on his hips, his bulge so… god, you need to stop – but how can you? Your best friend is just so pretty. And his hands are so big, fingers so long and you have felt them on your skin before but you would be a goddamn liar if you said you didn’t think about them in other places. 

Your cheeks heat up at your own thoughts, though it doesn’t stop you from daydreaming some more and the longer you do, the more you start to lose yourself in them, wondering about all the different what if’s, wondering what would happen if you just made the move your friends have begged you to make, to be more daring, to be more teasing, to break him enough for him to do something you both clearly want. 

A bravery you don’t usually have, surges through your body, taking over completely. The urge to tease him back the way he teases you is so strong, so before you chicken out, before you think too much and too long, you reach behind you, undoing the bow he tied on your bikini top, you turn away from him and take the skimpy black thing off, throwing it down next to you, the cool breeze kisses your skin and if Eddie opened his eyes right now, he’d be met with the sight of your bare chest. 

You press your lips together and turn around, flipping your hair over your shoulder, you lay down on your stomach, stretching your arms out and letting out a sigh of contentment. You turn your head into his direction but close your eyes, even though you’re dying to see his reaction to you being topless but you are trying to play it cool, like it’s nothing. 

Eddie peeks one eye open after listening to all your movement and he almost chokes on his spit when he does, jaw falling slack, both eyes shoot open as he takes in the sight of you, of the skin that wasn’t bare only seconds ago – how, when, what?

He blinks, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted as he is gawking at you, at the way your boobs are pressed against the towel beneath you, at the softness of your skin, at the single drops of water still clinging to your body that he wants to touch oh so badly, your hair looks so shiny and soft, your face so content as you lay half naked next to him. 

Eddie’s cheeks heat up when he realizes that he would have seen you bare if only he opened his eyes a few seconds sooner. He licks his lips, nearly drooling over the sight of you. Suddenly, his trunks feel tighter than before when his mind takes him to places he only reserves for late nights when he is all alone and not afraid to risk to pop a boner. 

He tries to look away, he really does but he can’t, not when you look this hot. He allows his eyes to roam again and it only makes his case worse, his breathing quickens, his skin heats up, his hands itch to touch your soft skin, his lips long to trail kisses down your body, to have a little taste of you. 

If you were his, he would, he would start on your neck and he would kiss down to your shoulder and then your back, and he’d take it lower and lower until his lips would reach those skimpy panties, he’d take them off and taste you the way he always dreamed of, he’d lick a stripe up your pussy, suck on your clit, eat you out like the starved man that he is and he would get lost in your moans and your whines, in the pleasure that only he could make you feel. 

Eddie clears his throat, he nearly curses when he feels his dick twitching in need of you. He clenches his jaw, even more so when he sees your lips twitching into a smirk. Oh… Oh. 

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, his breath halting for a moment when he realizes what you did, you did this on purpose, you aimed to tease him. 

It’s not exactly something new, you being a tease but you have never taken things this far, you have never stepped up to his level. 

But now that you did… he can take things further as well, right?

If you decide to tease him like this, then he will tease right back. 

He pushes himself up, adjusting his trunks, he nearly lets out a groan when you wiggle your butt a little, pretending to get more comfortable. 

He bites his lip as he looks around in search for the sunscreen you have brought with you, he finds the bottle peeking out of your bag. He presses his palm on the grass beneath him, leaning over your body to reach for the yellow bottle. 

“What’re you doing, Eds?” You murmur, rather seductively

A smirk tugs at Eddie’s lips, the tone in your voice tells him that you believe you are in charge here and… maybe you are, right now, but he won’t let you win so easily. 

He chuckles lowly when a gasp tears from your pretty lips after he squirts the cold cream on your back. 

“Don’t want you to get burned, sweetheart,” he whispers, closing the cap of the bottle, he throws it on the ground before he lays his palms flat against your hot skin, spreading the white cream all over your back. 

You grow flustered and you start blushing, your breathing gets heavier and you visibly gulp when he starts massaging the sunscreen into your skin. You suck in a sharp breath when his hands move up to your shoulders, gripping you there for a moment before he moves back down, the coldness of his rings making you shudder a little. 

Eddie can’t even hide the smug look on his face after feeling your reaction, pride swelling in his chest when you sigh so beautifully because of his touch. 

You easily get lost in this, eyelashes fluttering, soft breaths and sighs falling from your lips as his strong hands move up and down your skin, touching you in ways that make you squirm beneath him. 

“Feels good,” you whisper as you arch your back a little, not knowing that just a small movement like this is enough to drive him insane, once again. 

“Fuck,” he curses softly under his breath, he swallows harshly. 

“What was that?” You ask, not hiding the smugness in your voice, very well. 

“Nothing,” he lies, “nothing, sweets.” 

“You sure?” 

He hums, shaking his head at your teasing, at the way you think that you will win the game that he started. 

Eddie moves his hands down to your sides, making sure to get the cream everywhere, so you won’t get burned, of course. His fingers dip dangerously low to the side of your boobs, and while it was only meant to tease you, to get a reaction out of you, he realizes that it was a mistake, only a little too late – it only makes his case worse when he feels just how soft and smooth your skin is that is usually hidden under all your clothes, when he feels himself craving to touch a little lower, to feel more of you, to make you feel–

“Mmmh.” 

Eddie freezes, hands halting at your sides, his big brown eyes widen and his lips part once again, he stares at the back of your head, stunned. 

You moaned at his touch, whimpered even, making those butterflies in his stomach feel stronger than ever. 

“Why’d you stop?” You mumble, wiggling your butt as though to tell him to keep going. 

Do you even know the power you hold over him? 

Do you even understand what you do to him? 

Eddie bites his lip, he bites hard, hard enough to taste iron. He sucks in a sharp breath, biting back the growl that threatens to fall from his mouth when he adjusts behind you, the rough material of his swim trunks rubbing against his dick. He is fucking rock hard and if you only turned around to take a look at him, you would see it. 

“I’m sorry, got a little distracted,” he says lowly, voice getting a little shaky. 

He feels so hot, and it’s not the sun that is making him sweat, it’s all you. 

He can see the way your lip twitches, the way your dimple shows when you smirk at his words. 

“Oh? By what, the birds?” You giggle. 

He chuckles, shaking his head at your question even though your eyes are still closed. He takes a moment to look at your surroundings, at the beautiful scenery, the trees and the big lake in front of Steve’s cabin – well, his parents cabin. 

God, he wonders where this weekend will take him, you and him. 

A weekend you were both supposed to spend with your friends, turned into this. Just you and him, and no one else. 

It’s only day one, and you are already close to making him cum in his swim trunks, like some pathetic teenage boy who couldn’t handle his crush’s teasing or touching. 

This will either be the best weekend of his life, or this might kill him – if you are only teasing, then this will surely kill him but if you are not, then he owes your friends a lot, for pretending to be sick or busy. He knows that they were lying when Robin fake coughed on the phone after telling him that she couldn’t make it, that she and Steve couldn’t make it, cause he got sick too… apparently. 

And Nancy forgot that she promised to help her mom with something, and if Nancy couldn’t come, then Jonathan couldn’t either of course – which led to Argyle staying back as well, cause where would he ever go without his best buddy? 

Eddie looks back down at you, at his best friend, who is laying half naked before him so comfortably, teasing him so freely. Another sigh escapes your lips and you squirm beneath him once again. 

Yeah, no matter how this will end, you will be the death of him. 

“Yeah, the birds,” he mumbles, snorting at his own words. 

He leans down closer to you, squeezing your sides which makes you jolt a little, a giggle falling from your lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the sweet sound, “I forgot how ticklish you are,” he teases, as if. 

“Mhmm sure you did, Eddie.” 

With a mischievous smile, he decides to take his teasing further, playfully digging his fingers into your waist, he begins to tickle you, making you yelp and jolt in surprise as you start squirming beneath his touch, giggles now falling freely from your mouth as his name rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, awakening those butterflies in his stomach. God, he wishes he could make you call out his name in different ways. 

You jump up, with your arms covering your front, one hand pressing against your boobs, hiding only just a little as you turn to face your best friend. You watch the way his eyes widen as they instantly fall to your chest, lust flashing in them, jaw dropping as his cheeks redden right this second, his expression makes you giggle even harder, even more so when you push him back and he falls onto the grass, flat on his butt, wet curls hanging in front of his hair. 

Eddie is so stunned by you, he can barely move as he stares at you, at your half naked form. God, you are so beautiful it hurts. 

The afternoon sun begins to turn golden, kissing your glowy skin and all your curves, your hair cascades down your shoulders, your hand that barely hides anything pressing against your boobs, he wishes it was his own. Licking his lips, he pushes himself up on his elbows, letting his eyes roam your body, shamelessly, dreaming about the way he would love to get between those delicious looking thighs of yours, the way he’d kiss every inch of your body, leaving no trace unmarked, the way he would nuzzle his nose into your neck and inhale your sweet scent, not playfully the way he usually does, but with a trail of kisses that he would leave behind. 

He would worship you in ways he can’t even begin to describe. Oh, how often Eddie finds himself up at night, working on yet another song about you, thinking of words that haven’t been created yet, strong enough to describe you. 

He feels uncomfortable in his swim trunks that are getting a little too tight, his skin feels on fire, not from the sun but from you. He lusts after you, yes, but there is also more than that, so much more. It isn’t just the lust that makes these feelings so intense, it’s all his deepest feelings for you, feelings that only his notebook filled with song texts know about… and maybe your friends, who aren’t as oblivious as you are. 

“I’m gonna take a shower, and you should too,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie clears his throat, watching you get up, not bothering to pick up your top or your dress that you wore earlier, you simply keep your chest hidden by your right arm. 

“You’re helping me cook dinner,” you give him a pointed look before you turn around and begin to walk back to the house. 

Eddie smiles cheekily as he pushes himself up further, eyes glued to your butt now. 

“Are you telling me to get into the shower with you?” He calls after you, unaware of the butterflies that he caused in your stomach now. 

You don’t turn around, you keep walking, hiding the flustered expression on your face from him. You flip him off without looking back, biting back your smile when he laughs loudly. 

Eddie watches, craning his neck to see more of you, the way your butt jiggles as you skip up the stairs. He bites his lip, groaning at the sight of it. 

“Goddamn.” 

You will be the death of him.

-

It’s dark outside by the time Eddie comes out of the steamy bathroom, the cabin is mostly dark too, candles illuminate the living room and the sound of music fills the space. A smile lingers on his face as he makes his way down the hallway, his wet curls bouncing with each step that he takes, he throws on a clean shirt, his gray sweatpants hang low on his hips. 

A groan almost falls from his lips when he walks into the kitchen to you standing there in nothing but one of his shirts, now that sight is nothing new to him but it never fails to take his breath away, though usually you have on more than just the shirt. Your bare legs are glowy beneath the dim lights, from hours in the sun and that delicious smelling cream you always put on your skin after showering, you sway your hips to the music, shirt riding up in the process. Eddie can’t help but wonder if you are wearing any panties at all beneath his shirt. Fuck. He shouldn’t let his mind go there, you have done enough teasing for the day, he almost jerked off in the shower and maybe he should have, maybe that would have released some of the tension in him but he wouldn’t have been able to stay quiet, he never is. 

God, this really will be a long weekend filled with torture and teasing. He knows he should probably stop playing this dangerous game but he just can’t help but play into it. 

He slowly makes his way to you, you’re humming to the music, knife held in your hand as you cut up vegetables, an opened bottle of beer on the counter before you, your damp hair is braided loosely, falling down your back. He can smell your body wash from here, the sweetness of it – of you is so intoxicating to him, he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around your waist, pull you into him and bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhale your scent and kissing your soft skin, he craves it so very badly, even more so, he craves for it to be something normal. 

Eddie wants you to be more than just his best friend. 

Everybody knows it, everybody but you. 

And maybe it’s better this way, maybe he would lose you if you did find out. 

You might be a tease, you might let him touch you in ways no one else is allowed to, you might give him hope sometimes, the hope that you could feel more than just something platonic for him but at the end of the day you are still best friends and he can’t lose that, especially not because he can’t control his feelings. 

Because what happens when you do find out and you don’t feel the same? 

What happens then? 

What happens if it drives you away? 

What happens if he loses you? 

And he can’t allow that to happen, he can’t lose you, not you, anyone but you. 

Eddie knows he should do himself a favor and stop being so touchy and affectionate with you, it does him no good, if anything, it makes him want you even more but he can’t help it, he has to take what he can get… right? 

He comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist, he breathes in your sweetness, chuckling when you tense up for a second before a cute giggle falls from your lips. 

“You scared me,” you whisper, tilting your head back, you look up at him as you ease into his touch. 

“Sorry sweets, didn’t mean to,” he murmurs, teasing you with that pretty smile of his as he snatches a piece of the cucumber you’ve been cutting and bites into it, winking at you as he steps away again and takes a look into the large pot on the stove. 

“Pasta?”

“Pasta Arrabiata,” you say, imitating the Italian accent that Steve always makes whenever he is cooking. 

Eddie chuckles, “wow that was horrible.” 

“Shut up,” you giggle, scrunching your nose at him. 

If you knew how his heart flutters at your laughter and at your cute nose scrunches. 

“Since when do we put cucumber in pasta?”

The disgusted look on your face makes him laugh again, he leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyes you up and down. 

“I’m also making a salad, it’s for you, you need to eat more veggies.”

His lips curl into yet another smile, warmth blooms in his chest. 

You take care of him, you always do. From making sure that he eats enough when he gets a little too lost in writing songs or working on campaigns to making sure that he wears a hat and a scarf when it’s cold outside, whether it’s something small or big, you are always there to look after him, you’ve always been there. 

“Alright, I’m eating the greens just for you, sweets.” 

He licks his lips as he eyes every inch of your exposed skin, tracing your soft features with the longing look in his brown eyes. The way his shirt looks on your body, the way your hair falls in front of your eyes despite you tucking it behind your ear just moments ago, the way you bite your lower up as you give him a disapproving look. 

“No,” you shake your head, pointing your knife at him, “you gotta eat them for yourself.”

“Are you threatening me?” He smirks, closing the gap between you both again, you instantly lower the knife and place it on the counter. 

You shrug, teasing him with a sweet smile, “what if I am?”

Eddie licks his lips, inching closer and closer to you, a smile tugs at his mouth, he hums as he raises his hand up to your face, combing his fingers through your wet hair before he tucks the fallen pieces behind your ear again. 

He is unaware of the effect he has on you, of the fluttering in your chest, of the burning in your skin, of the shaky breaths you suck in. 

“Then I think that’s really hot,” he winks at you as he moves his hand down your neck and then your shoulder, sliding it down along your spine, lower and lower until he’s holding your hip and pressing himself against you as he moves onto your other side, slower than necessary. 

Your lips part in surprise, every trace that he has touched starts to burn, your knees grow weak and your heart starts beating faster – how much longer can you deny the emotions he causes inside you?

“So, how can I help?” 

He is teasing you, you can hear it in his voice, and you don’t have to turn around to face him to know that there is a smirk on his face. 

“Set the table, pick a movie to watch later, dinner is almost ready.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs into your ear before he walks away without another word, giving you a moment to take a few deep breaths. 

You take a sip of your cold beer, closing your eyes for a moment, you listen to your beating heart, you feel the goosebumps on your skin, you feel the rush of blood to your cheeks, the weakness you feel for your best friend. 

How much longer can you deny what is really inside of you, that it’s not just physical attraction? 

Your heart flutters when his deep voice sounds through the dining room as he sings along to the music, your lips curl into an adoring smile. You can hear him rummaging through the drawers, trying to find the table cloth you assume. 

Picking up the knife again, you continue chopping your vegetables, finishing up on your salad, though you quickly get lost in this… domestic energy you both have created. It feels so warm, so safe, so familiar. A feeling you can’t imagine sharing with anyone other than your Eddie. 

He comes back into the kitchen, humming, he grabs two plates and cutlery and places them on the counter before he passes by you, without a teasing smile or comment, he places his hand on your lower back, he reaches over your shoulder to retrieve two wine glasses from the shelf and steps away again, leaving the kitchen once more. 

It all feels so natural, so normal and yet, it makes you struggle to breathe because the butterflies in your stomach go wild – just the way they always do, but now it becomes harder and harder to not pay attention to them. 

You take another deep breath, willing yourself to calm down, to push aside your feelings, to keep doing what you did before… be unaware of what is buried deep within your heart. So, you move along and distract yourself with finishing cooking dinner, not allowing your mind to take you further into this pit of hell as you call it, because that’s what love and feelings are, hell. 

There is no good in love, there is no peace in having feelings.

It’s a rollercoaster ride that ends no matter how long it lasts, pleasant or not, it ends. 

And you refuse to let feelings get in the way of yours and Eddie’s friendship, he means too much to you to risk taking a step further into something that your stupid heart desires, you love him too much to let your lingering feelings ruin what you both have, besides… who is to say that he could feel something for you? 

You are his best friend and he is yours, that’s all you’ve ever been and it’s all you’ll ever be, best friends, nothing more or less, best friends who are affectionate with one another, who tease each other, who sleep in each other’s arms and do things that other best friend’s might not do… Though when you step into the dining room with the heavy pot in your hands, you halt in your tracks, freezing at the sight before you. 

The table is set but not like usual, it makes you struggle to keep pushing away those feelings that have been sneaking their way to the surface because why did he place the plates so close to each other when the table is so big? And why did he place candles on the table and light them up instead of keeping the lights on? And why did he change the channel on the radio? Why is slow music playing instead of the rock channel he usually settles for when there is no better option for him? 

You can handle his teasing, you can handle his touching, his flirting, his suggestive comments and looks he gives you so often. 

But this is something else, this is something that would have normally made you run, a table set up so romantically, a dinner that seems to become something intimate. Yeah, if someone else had set this up, you would’ve definitely ran, you would’ve felt anxious, suffocated. 

Those feelings don’t exist with him though, it’s quite the opposite, even with the lingering fear inside of you for what you feel for him. You feel giddy. 

“Picked the movie, sweets,” Eddie calls from the living room, snapping you out of your troubled thoughts. He enters the room with a grin on his face. 

You clear your throat and finally take the final steps to the table, putting down the pot in the middle, you glance at your best friend. 

“Yeah? What’d you pick?” 

“Something neither of us have seen yet,” he winks at you, moving closer and closer until he is right in front of you again. He grabs the chair and pulls it back, gazing down at you with his dark eyes, “sit.”

“I gotta get the rest of the food–”

“I’ll get it, now sit down, princess,” he murmurs. 

Whenever his voice gets so low, your knees feel like they’ll buckle at any moment, shivers run down your spine and your cheeks grow hot. 

“Alright,” you chuckle, plopping down on the wooden chair, you gaze up at your best friend, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, there is not much you have to do to drive him crazy. 

“Smells really good in here,” he comments, the mouth watering smell of pasta sauce and garlic bread makes his stomach growl. 

“Thanks Eds, now get the rest of the food before it gets cold.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he winks at you, squeezing your shoulder before he turns around and makes his way out of the room and into the kitchen. 

You take a deep breath when he’s gone, rolling your shoulders and trying to calm your nerves, your heart is racing and it makes you feel ridiculous. You are here with Eddie, your best friend, Eddie. You got nothing to feel nervous about, you’ve been here plenty of times before, at dinner alone with him… though, it was never like this, you never had candle light dinners with slow music playing in the back. And his touches, his smiles, his voice never drove you this crazy before, he never made your heart flutter, his hands never made your skin feel hot, he never made you feel like you’d fall to the ground because your knees felt like jelly, he never made you feel those things before until recently… or did he? 

“I’m starving,” Eddie says dramatically as he places the salad bowl and the garlic bread on the table. Before he takes a seat, he opens the wine bottle and reaches for your glass, he glances at you as he starts pouring it in your glass, he notices your flushed cheeks and how fidgety you are in your seat as you eye him up and down, it makes his heart flutter. 

“We can’t have that,” you chuckle, reaching for his plate, you start filling it with salad first to which he protests, claiming that it will only make him starve even more. “You need some healthy food!”

“Not too much of it though,” he shakes his head as he lifts the lid of the pot, inhaling with a smile on his face, “I need that.” 

Your giggle makes his smile widen. 

“Alright.”

“You know I love your pasta,” he grins as he watches you fill the plate. 

“That’s Steve’s pasta,” you chuckle. 

“Nah, that’s his recipe, you cooked it,” he retorts, tilting his head to the side, “besides, you do it better.”

Warmth fills your chest and your cheeks, your smile gets even bigger now. 

“Don’t tell him that! He’ll be distraught!” 

“Don’t worry, it’s our secret,” he mumbles with a grin on his face as he finally takes the seat across from you, taking the plate from your hands when you hand it to him with a soft ‘thank you’. 

He waits for you to fill your own plate before he picks up the fork or even takes a sip of the wine you picked when you went grocery shopping together this morning. He leans back and takes a look around, your surroundings are so different than usual, so unlike the small apartment he recently moved into where you eat your dinners at his tiny kitchen table. He appreciates the home cooked meals you always bless him with and the way you always want to take care of him, it makes him feel warm, it makes him feel safe. 

Eddie wants to do the same for you, he wants to make you feel the way you make him feel but he believes that he can’t measure up, that he can’t give you what you give him, that he can’t provide you the same feeling of safety or warmth and maybe that is the sole reason why he hasn’t made a move on you yet, not because he is scared of ruining your friendship – god, he wants to ruin it so bad. But because you deserve more than he can give you, you deserve this, a big house with a stupid fireplace, a big garden, stability, someone who can take care of you, someone who can give you more than a small, shitty apartment, someone who can give you more than just the flowers he gives you or the pastries he brings you when you’re taking your lunch breaks at work. 

Yeah, your friendship is very precious to him, he is scared of losing you, every goddamn day he wonders if this will be the day where you don’t show up for him but it isn’t the reason for his lack of effort in fighting for what he actually wants, it’s the fact that he believes that you deserve better than him, someone less like him, someone more like… Steve. 

So he settles for loving you from afar, he tries to spoil you, he tries as best as he can. He teases you whenever he gets the chance to, he becomes giddy when you react to it, when you blush and giggle or even tease him back the way you did today, it sparks something in him, maybe it’s confidence or maybe just an illusion that you could feel the same, whatever it is, he basks in the feeling in those moments. 

His eyes soften and the beating of his heart becomes stronger as he watches you, the way you dig your teeth into your bottom lip, the way your beautiful eyes shine in the dim light, the light flush in your cheeks making you look so damn cute, the way your smile only widens when you glance at him, a small huff falling from your mouth. 

“What are you looking at?” You tease, putting down your plate before you. 

You. 

He always looks at you. 

Eddie knows he won’t have this forever, someday you will meet someone who will give you everything that he wishes he could, someday he won’t be the one sitting across from you enjoying your dinner, someday he won’t be the one in your life. 

“At your shirt, is it new… or?” He teases, acting like he didn’t just get lost in his head, thinking of your future that he might not be a part of. 

You look down at his shirt, smiling proudly, you stole it from him the last time you stayed over,  “mhm got it from this store called the drawer.”

Eddie snorts, though he adores the look on your face, “you’re so lame, the drawer? Really?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, picking up the fork you start eating happily. 

“Who sold it to you?” Eddie asks, squinting his eyes at you. 

“Oh, this uh… really handsome guy, said he’s in a band, corroded coffin?” You raise your brow, pretending to think. “Yeah, that’s what it was.”

Eddie’s stomach flips in excitement at the compliment. You’ve called him handsome plenty of times before, but it never fails to make him blush. 

“Damn, he sounds really cool,” Eddie says, laughing. 

You nod, a serious and adoring look now flashing in your features, no hint of amusement behind those eyes, no teasing, just pure adoration for him, “he is, he is the coolest actually.”

He gets flustered easily when he’s with you but when you look at him like this, with that sweet smile and those soft eyes, he doesn’t know what to do with himself, he doesn’t know what to say or how to act, so he hides his face by looking down at the delicious food in front of him, a sheepish smile resting on his face, one that makes your own even bigger. He finally takes a bite of the pasta and his eyes instantly close as he moans at the taste of it, making you giggle yet again. 

“Fuck me, yeah I’m sorry sweets, but I ain’t letting you get married, you’re stuck with me,” he jokes as he takes another bite, completely forgetting about all the anxious thoughts that swirled in his mind just moments ago. 

“Oh, you mean I’m stuck being your private chef?” 

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, chewing on the garlic bread slowly, you try to ignore the heat building up in your stomach as you look into his chocolate eyes, waiting for him to say that word.

“Oh, then what would you call it?”

Eddie looks at you through hooded eyes, a teasing smirk tugging at his plump lips.

“Housewife.”

A surprised giggle falls from your lips, though your cheeks start burning, especially under his gaze. Something tugs at your chest, something strong, something warm. Housewife. You never craved to be that, you never had such desires. Sure, you always dreamed of finding the one, finding true love, finding someone who will love you the way you can love, the way you always wished to love but that’s it, you never imagined yourself past the dating stage, you never daydreamed of weddings and a husband, you never thought of becoming a wife, a housewife at that but… when you think of yourself as that with Eddie by your side, with your best friend, with the one who had always been by your side through thick and thin, something in you beats a little stronger. 

You clear your throat, lowering your gaze to his ringed fingers, you can’t help but let your mind take you to sacred places. 

Eddie watches you intensely, eyes lighting up at the flustered state you are suddenly in, a state he only ever sees you in when he teases you with touches, with pick up lines, with his flirtations but never this. There is a little spark in him now, the sparkle of hope. 

“Well that would make you my husband.” Your voice is shaky, filled with nerves and something else that he can’t decipher at this moment. 

Oh, Eddie would put a ring on your fingers right this second. 

He never really planned his future, he never really saw one, especially not one in which he would be happy with a wife and kids by his side but he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t want these things with you. You make him crave things that were never even a thought of his before he met you, you make him want to be that for you, a husband. 

He doesn’t believe that he can give you what you want, what you need, what you deserve but he knows one thing for sure, if he was given the chance, he would make you so damn happy. 

“Would that be so bad?” 

You look up again and into his eyes, something in them is different now, something in the way he looks at you is so… intense and raw, there is a softness in them, one stronger than usual. 

Would that be bad?

You shake your head before you can even come up with the right words to say, or with words you should say. Something has changed, perhaps a long time ago or just now, but you know one thing for sure, your heart never beat this strongly before and your hands never itched to touch his so badly. 

You know the truth is hidden behind the walls you have put up, but that wall started crumbling a long time ago, long before you had the chance to even notice. 

The energy in the room has shifted into something more… intimate and it’s not the candles or the music, it adds to it, but those aren’t the main reasons, it’s the energy you both have created, it’s the lingering touches, it’s his foot touching yours under the table, not playfully like usual, it’s different, it’s all so different but it’s good. A comfortable silence takes over the room as you continue eating and as the seconds and the minutes pass, and you both sip on your wines, pouring a second glass, you both get a little bolder when the alcohol hits you. 

Your hands inch closer and closer to each other, your eye contact becomes a little more intense, making your breathing stutter and your heart skip several beats. 

And when he is done with his food, he pushes his plate aside and leans his elbows on the table, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath and then, he brushes his fingertips against your own before he envelopes your hand fully, taking it into his large one. 

You can’t describe the feelings rushing through you, he held your hand plenty of times before but until now, you never let yourself feel the rush of it, you never allowed yourself to pay attention to the electric feeling cursing through your veins but you allow it now, slowly… you allow it. 

“They’re really missing out, aren’t they?” You speak the first words that come to your mind as you stare into your best friend's beautiful eyes. 

Eddie looks around the dining room, shrugging when he looks back at you, his eyes roaming your face, his lips curl into a smile. 

“I don’t know, I kinda like it just being the two of us, we never really get the chance to be alone like this.”

You nod in agreement, “that’s true, I like it too,” you murmur before you reach for your glass and take a big sip of wine. 

“More wine and weed for us,” Eddie jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You roll your eyes playfully, setting the glass back down, you tilt your head to the side, “speaking of weed, wanna roll us a joint?” 

Eddie doesn’t want to let go of your hand just yet but he nods, he could use that relaxation anyways, maybe it will calm his nerves around you before he does something that he might end up regretting later on. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna clean this up first.”

You shake your head, “no, I can do it–”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says sternly, glaring at you, “I know I said housewife, I hope you know that doesn’t mean slave.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the seriousness on his face or in his voice, “Eddie, I hope you know that that’s exactly what most men think of when they want a housewife.” 

He frowns in disgust, scoffing at that, he begrudgingly lets go of your hand and pushes his chair back. 

“Well, most men are pigs who don’t even deserve a wife in the first place,” he says, getting up, he glares at you and points at you to stay seated. “You don’t have to do all the work, you cook, I clean up, it’s simple.”

A smile graces your features, you tap the table before you reach for the wine bottle, pouring yourself a third glass, “well then, whatever you say, husband,” you giggle and get up as well, holding your hands up in surrender when he gives you a warning glance, “don’t worry, I won’t lift a finger, I’m gonna grab my wine and wait for you in the living room.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs as he gathers the dirty plates, “sit your pretty ass down.” 

You definitely feel the wine in your system now, that fuzzy feeling and the slight dizziness feels so welcoming though. 

“Yes, sir.”

Before Eddie can stop his mouth from running, those words tumble out of his mouth just like that. 

“Good girl.” 

You nearly choke on your spit and trip over nothing, his words rush right to your core, your cheeks start burning hotter than before. 

Good girl. 

He called you a good girl, with that raspy, deep voice of his that never fails to make your insides crawl with need, that never fails to ring through your head when you’re in your bed with your hand between your thighs, imagining him and his voice calling you just that. 

You don’t know how you manage to keep your composure but you do, only allowing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you continue your way out of the dining room and into the living room, you round the corner and rush to the big couch where he luckily can’t see you, your knees almost buckle before you can even take a seat. 

You close your eyes and sigh out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Pressing a hand to your chest, you nearly gasp at the beating of your heart. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper to yourself. 

Eddie will be the death of you, you are sure of it, if not tonight then tomorrow, and if not then, then on the last day of your trip. 

The veil that was hiding all your truths was already being lifted when you were still in Hawkins, slowly everything was coming out, all the feelings you were denying, all the things you were so afraid of admitting, you lost control and power a long time ago. The moment Robin opened her eyes to what was there this whole time, the moment she confronted you about your feelings for him was the moment you could no longer hide. The veil is no longer there, it’s long gone and lost with the wind. 

You run your fingers through your hair and lean back into the soft cushions, taking a big gulp of the red wine that will surely give you a headache tomorrow morning, you keep your eyes closed for a moment, you begin to curse her out in your head because all your reactions to his words and touches just now only confirmed all her beliefs. 

Fuck Robin for saying all that shit to you that changed your feelings and opened your eyes completely, a month ago. Fuck her for telling you that you indeed have feelings for Eddie, for your best friend. Fuck her for making you start realizing it and be self conscious for it. Fuck her for making you feel scared of losing Eddie because of it. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, you open your eyes and look around the lightly dimmed room, you take in the sound of Eddie’s voice, of his humming to the music, of the way your heart flutters more and more. 

You are so fucked. 

You will ruin the friendship, you are sure of it. 

If only you knew that this is exactly what he wants. 

You keep yourself busy with your wine glass, staring into blank space as you continue letting your thoughts eat at you, letting the insecurities and the doubts creep in, when all you want to do is get lost in the feeling of what he gave to you at the dinner table, just moments ago. 

You are so lost in your head, you don’t even notice the music being turned off, you don’t even hear his footsteps or his voice until he is standing right before you after throwing a bunch of different snacks on the coffee table. 

“I know the munchies are gonna hit you,” your best friend chuckles as he finally sits down beside you, joint already between his fingers, lighter on the coffee table. He turns to you, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he offers you the joint. 

Yeah, maybe this will help, maybe this will relax you enough to get a grip on yourself again, maybe this will stop you from doing something that will make you regret. 

Your heart, your body, everything in you seems to be sick of living in denial though because before your mind can kill this moment, you are already moving forward, looking into his eyes, you lean down, closer and closer, you wrap your lips around the joint that is still snug between his fingers. 

The widening of his eyes, the parting of his lips, snaps you out of whatever had possessed you, though not enough, not even in the slightest. 

You raise your brows at him expectedly, waiting for him to light up the joint for you. 

The flush in his cheeks, the rosy color taking over his face, his squirming makes satisfaction rush you. 

You were teasing him all morning, all afternoon and every time you added one more, you wanted to risk more, but now things just have gotten out of hand, you got lost in your own little game and you let your feelings, your desires take full control of you. 

Poor Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself as he looks down at you, if it wasn’t for the alcohol in his system, he would lose all composure and stutter like a little kid around his crush. He manages to reach for the lighter and he never looks away from your pretty eyes or your lips, or the shirt that keeps riding up on your thighs, a little more and more. 

He lights the joint and he is surprised when you don’t look away, when your eyes stay locked with his and a satisfied moan escapes you – only worsening his case. You inhale deeply and furrow your eyebrows in concentration, a lazy smile spreads on your kissable lips and you lean back further after blowing out the smoke. You bring your knees up to your chest and hand him the joint. “That’s nice,” you sigh out in pleasure, “I needed that.” 

“You’re starting to sound like an addict,” Eddie smirks, hiding his blushing cheeks behind his curls as he takes the joint from your fingers and places it between his lips, unaware of the way you follow his every movement as he gets comfortable beside you, resting his feet on the table, he stretches his arm out and wraps it around the headrest behind you. 

“What… movie did you pick out?” You ask him and he doesn’t even notice your stuttering or the way your eyes are glued to his exposed skin as his shirt rides up, exposing his happy trail. 

Eddie shrugs, reaching for the remote, he glances at you, “I dunno, one of the movies Steve recommended we should watch.” 

“Oh?”

“Mhmm,” He nods and presses play before he throws the remote on the coffee table, “let’s see how good his taste is.”

“You already know he loves the cheesy shit,” you laugh and scoot closer to him with your wine glass still in your hand, you’re searching for his warmth. 

“Yeah, he does,” Eddie chuckles. 

He lowers his gaze to your thighs, noticing the goosebumps on your skin, he puts the joint into the ashtray and he reaches for the knitted blanket thrown over the couch, he spreads it open and covers your legs with it, “don’t want you freezing, sweets,” he murmurs. 

Your eyes soften for him, a smile spreading on your lips. You lean forward and place your wine glass on the coffee table and then you scoot closer to him and throw the blanket over his lap as well before you place your head on his chest, snuggling up against him with a content look on your face… beside the blushing on your cheeks. 

Eddie wraps his arm around you without a second thought – this is nothing unusual for you, neither is the hand holding, or the sharing of clothes or the intimate touches but everything you do today, that you usually do as well, feels so different, it makes him nervous, it makes you nervous, it feels like the first time. 

And when you place your hand above his heart, he grows anxious that you might feel just how strongly it’s beating for you, he is scared that you will figure out his feelings and that that will make you run, run from him. 

“Your heart is racing,” you whisper softly, causing him to tense up a little but when you press your chin against his chest and you gaze up into his eyes, he feels a sense of calmness bleed through him, safety. 

Eddie blinks, not knowing what to say without giving away the truth, without giving away just how much he wants to kiss you right now, how much he wants to make you his, how badly he wants to confess and get it off his chest. 

“Is everything okay?” Your angelic voice makes him feel weak, the candle light makes you look so soft, your scent makes him feel drunk, his lips yearn to touch yours, his heart screams for you. 

God, he really wants to kiss you so bad. 

And he wants to kiss you even more when he sees the way your own eyes flicker between his lips, his neck and his eyes. He tightens his hold on you, prompting you to scoot even closer as you lean your warm body into his as your hand slips down to his stomach, your nails grazing the sliver of exposed skin on his stomach, he nearly whimpers at the feeling. You truly know how to drive him crazy. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, lips curling into a smile, “everything is perfect.” 

Almost perfect. 

It would be perfect if he could just grab your face and smash his lips against yours, kissing you breathless. 

You bite your lower lip as you keep staring up at him, you look as though you want to say something, your eyebrows pull together whenever you hold something back, whenever you desire to speak up about something – he doesn’t pressure you to talk though, he never does, he gives you time, as always. 

His eyelashes flutter, his lips part in surprise when he watches you move closer to him, closer and closer until your lips are pressed against his jaw, you peck him once before you shyly pull away and bury your face in his chest, turning your attention back to the TV right as the movie begins to play and he is glad that you do, because his eyes widen the way they probably never did before and blood rushes to his cheeks, no doubt making him look like a tomato right now, his heart feels as though it will beat out of his chest at any moment. 

You were teasing him this morning, you were very clear about that, the smirk and the smugness on your face gave it away every time but you are no longer teasing now, this is different, this is something else, this is something new. 

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat and he takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly and shakily. 

He wonders if you know the effect you have on him, he wonders if you know how he feels for you, he wonders if you know just what he would do for you. 

“Pass me the joint?” He whispers, not recognizing his own voice due to how shaky it is. 

You do as he asks, pulling away for just a second, you reach for the joint and hand it to him before you settle back comfortably against his chest, pressing your cheek tightly against it. 

Despite the nervousness in him, he keeps his arm wrapped around you tightly, and he even takes it a little further, becoming a little bolder, he sneaks his hand under your shirt and lays his plat flatly against your warm back.

You sigh in contentment and curl further into him, welcoming the touch of his hand, especially when he starts rubbing up and down. 

“That feels so nice,” you murmur, moaning softly, “don’t stop, Eddie.” 

Of course it wasn’t the greatest move to make, of course it would backfire, of course he would be the one with the problem. It’s already not helping that you’re almost fully on top of him, hand underneath his shirt as your nails scratch against his skin and now you are moaning because of him. 

He places the joint between his lips and takes a long drag, needing it desperately. 

“Your hands always feel so nice, Eds.” The words tumble fall from your lips just like that, like you no longer find yourself caring about the consequences of your words or your actions, maybe it’s the alcohol and the weed in your system that makes you so careless and bold, or maybe it’s the reassuring touch of your best friend that gives you the confidence to let you say what’s on your mind. 

Eddie freezes, shocked he stares at the movie playing on the screen, his hand stops moving as well for a moment, he wonders if he really heard you right. You press against his hand again, wanting more. 

“And you don’t know what they can do, sweets,” he rasps into your ear, confidently and like he isn’t losing his mind over you. 

A whimper sounds through the room, your whimper. You try to conceal it by coughing into your hand but he heard it, and he felt how you tensed up at his words.

He swallows harshly, squirming beneath you, he tries his hardest to hold back that growl. His hand slips from under your shirt and down to your thigh when you lean forward to reach for the joint in the ashtray. 

“Rolling good joints?” You murmur, trying to hide your nervousness and how flustered you really are. 

Eddie can’t help but snort, mumbling a soft ‘sure’ to your question. 

Despite the tension in the room and your unwanted awkwardness, time keeps passing and the night goes on, the movie continues playing, moving into a direction that neither of you expected at the start of it – what begins with an innocent scene of the beautiful lead getting ready for her date with the guy she is keeping a secret, develops into something different, something more, something that should not have the effect on you that it does right now but when they start kissing in his car, slowly and sensually at first, her fingers buried in his long hair as his slip under her shirt, you can’t help but bite your lip. Your skin grows hot, your thighs clench together, your grip on his shirt tightens as your mind flips this scene into you kissing Eddie in his car. 

The wine was supposed to help, the weed too, but neither of them did, neither of them managed to give you the calming effect that you were hoping for, if anything both only heightened your senses and intensified absolutely everything in you, because suddenly, his body feels so much closer, his cologne so much more intoxicating than usual, his touch heating your skin on fire, his breath on your skin tickles you and those evil thoughts in your head make you wonder what it would feel like to feel his breath elsewhere, to feel his lips on your skin and his hands holding you tightly, keeping you in place as his lips touch parts of you only your hands did before. 

Your heart starts beating faster and you begin to lose composure, the rational voice in your head is gone for good, desire and need taking over now, a confidence you didn’t know you had rushing through you as you move your leg, pressing the heel of your foot against his shin. 

And while you are getting bolder, Eddie is trying his best to stay calm, to not act upon his feelings and ruin the one good thing in his life, despite the clear signs you are currently giving, he makes no move, even when he wants nothing more but to bury his face in your neck and suck on your skin until you are marked up by him. The smell of your perfume drives him insane, the feeling of your skin pressed against his makes his stomach flutter with no end near in sight, his heart hasn’t stopped racing yet. 

The blanket slips from your lower half, his shirt has ridden up on your body, revealing the panties you are wearing, the black lace resting so perfectly on your soft skin. He clenches his jaw at the sight of it, biting back the moan that wants to fall off his lips so badly. 

Something else flutters now, not just his heart or those butterflies in his stomach and it makes him so uncomfortable because he won’t be able to hide it, not right now. 

Soft moans fill the living room, along with the sounds of lips smacking together. You bite your lip even harder, hold onto him even tighter as your eyes stay glued to the screen, watching intently as the couple undresses each other slowly, their hands becoming more and more desperate on each other, whimpers getting louder. 

You are so lost in it, you let your body move on its own, your foot continues to slide up his shin and his knee, hip angling as you twist your body further into him. As the scene gets more and more intense, the thoughts in your head do too. 

The coil in your stomach grows, burning hotly, you are throbbing between your legs, growing wetter and wetter each passing second as you imagine yourself moaning like the girl on the TV – moaning for him, with him. 

Eddie is frozen in place, stunned at everything that is happening this very moment, not only is the scene very erotic but the moves you are pulling now are just about enough for him to get hard – and he can’t exactly conceal anything, not when he is wearing grey sweatpants and you are tightly pressed against him. 

Do you even know what you are doing to him? 

When Eddie shifts beneath you and his fingers dig deeper into your skin, you lower your head and tear your eyes from the screen to his lap and your mouth waters in an instant, eyes growing wide and the burning in your stomach only worsens. 

“Got a problem there, Eds?” You blurt out as you stare at the very prominent bulge.

He wants to crawl under the blanket and hide his flustered face but instead he rolls his eyes, trying to act cool, averting his gaze from you and back to the screen, pretending that it’s the girl in the movie that caused this. 

“I am just a man, leave me alone…”

A giggle escapes you, and you look up at your best friend to find him blushing furiously. His long lashes kissing his skin every time he blinks, his dark eyes shine so prettily, his lips are just so… so kissable. His neck is so perfect to be marked up by you. His dark hair cascading down to his shoulders so perfectly, but you want to make a mess of him. 

“Aw, poor man,” you tease him before you finally let go of any doubts, of any fears or anxious thoughts, you grab the joint from between his fingers and put it back on the ashtray and then, you lean back to him and do something that you always craved to do, you press your lips against his jaw, kissing him. 

His lips part in surprise, heart stopping for a moment, he stares into blank space now as you repeat the motion, pressing your lips against his skin again and again, humming in contentment. 

His legs feel like jelly and if he wasn’t sitting down already, he surely would’ve felt his knees buckle at this electric touch. Words can’t describe the feeling of this, of you. He imagined this so many times, your lips on his skin, just the imagination of it had him feeling giddy but this, he can’t even function. 

You move closer and closer, your hand finding the chain around his neck, your breath kissing his skin, you gaze up at him with those pretty eyes that could make him do anything you would ask for. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing…?” He finds his voice again. 

You shrug, looking at him innocently, “I don’t know, I just want to kiss your face, is that so bad?” You ask before you lean in again, not waiting for an answer from him, you press your lips back against his jaw, finger hooked around his chain and your other hand moving from his chest and up to his hair, giving it a slight pull. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, the soft smile that rested on his features before slowly falling now. He clenches his jaw when you kiss it again and again, his heart races like crazy now, the feelings in him, the love he feels for you bursting in him as he finally gets a taste of what things could be like if you were his girl. 

You light up a fire in him, but make him weak at the same time, you make him feel safe but he also burns for you, he desires you in ways he wasn’t even aware existed, only a taste of this, of you, could kill him because if he can’t have you again after having you once, he surely will die slowly and torturously as he forever will be reminded of this, of what could be. 

He breathes in shakily as his hands fall to your waist, gripping you tighter than ever before, it takes everything in him not to grab your face and kiss you senseless but it takes even more to stop you. 

He wants this, he wants you so bad, he wants to keep feeling your lips, your touch, you. 

But what is this to you? 

His hand moves up to the back of your neck, he wraps his fingers around it, pulling you away softly with a deep inhale.

“Don’t do this to me now, darling,” he whispers weakly, not caring about how vulnerable he sounds, how vulnerable he must look right now. 

You ignore his pleading, and you move closer again, straddling his thigh as you wrap your arms around his neck, you look into his eyes as you inch closer and closer to him, no longer caring about anything. You kiss his cheek softly and then the other, noting the soft sigh falling from his lips, the grip of his hand on you becoming tighter and stronger. 

Eddie is breathing heavily now, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself as your lips are so close to his own. 

“You’re killing me here, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

You pull back to look at him, taking in the intense emotions flashing in his eyes as he stares at you with nothing but hunger, his eyes flicking back and forth between your lips and your neck. 

“Why?” You whisper innocently as you lean in again and without thinking, you press your lips to the corner of his mouth. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, a curse word falls from his lips as he clenches his jaw again. 

“Because I’m trying to hold back.” 

“Who says I want you to?” You ask softly and he opens his eyes again, tilting his head to the side, he furrows his brows at you. 

“Don’t do this to me, baby, you know how bad I–” 

The brush of your knee against his bulge as you throw your leg over his thigh completely leaves the words stuck in his throat, you straddle him the way you only ever did in his dreams. 

“How bad you what?” You whisper as you slowly lean your forehead against his, letting your lips brush against his own as you gaze into his eyes. 

You can see the way he is holding back from doing what he wants, what you both want, so you give him a little push. You nuzzle your nose against his, giving him that soft look that gets you anything you want, that makes him weak. 

If only you knew just the feelings you cause inside of him. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, he shuts down all the racing thoughts in his head and finally, he cups your cheeks, holding your face gently. 

“Oh, fuck me,” he whispers and smashes his lips against yours, kissing you finally. He pushes all his fears and his insecurities aside, not wanting to dwell on them any longer, not wanting to think of them now when he gets the chance to do this and your whimper, that needy little sound that comes from you when you kiss him back only fuels his need to kiss you harder and deeper. 

You press yourself against him, wrapping your arms around him tightly, you bury your fingers into his curls, taking a fistful of his hair as you move your lips against his, slowly at first. You get so lost in it, loving the way it feels to kiss his lips, to kiss your best friend. It’s everything and more than you imagined it to feel like, it feels so perfect, so right, so safe. You let yourself fall into him, melting into his embrace as his hands move down to your waist, holding you tightly the way you do to him. 

The sound of your sighs and moans, lips smacking and the movie still playing in the back, whimpers coming from the girl on the TV makes it all a little more intense, because the burning in your thighs becomes unbearable, the feeling of his tongue brushing against your lower lip as he pushes you down against his bulge has you aching and yearning. 

To Eddie this feels like a dream, like it’s something not real, not even close to being real because this is something that only ever lived in his mind, whether he was just thinking about you at work, while writing songs, while sitting next to you or while getting off in the middle of the night, this was only ever a dream but now it isn’t. The kiss is real, your moans are real, your body is truly pressed against his, you are sitting right on top of him, slowly dragging your hips along his aching dick and it feels so fucking good, better than he could ever even dream of. 

Everything in him burns for you, his heart, his soul, every cell, every organ, you are like a drug to him that he was already addicted to before he even tried it, but now? He is gone forever. A kiss that could lead to nothing, that could only stay this, a kiss, perhaps a mistake for you that you will regret come morning, enough to break him. 

What is it gonna be? The kiss that will lead to the start of something his heart screamed for since the very beginning? Or will this be his kiss of death? 

He has to be sure, he needs to be sure so he pulls away, begrudgingly so, he pulls away from the kiss that he never wants to stop, breathlessly, he opens his eyes to look at you for the first time after this change between you both but you are not having it, leaning in with a whine, you peck his lips again, making his heart flutter. 

“Baby–” You cut him off by kissing him again, desperately and he once again has to pull away reluctantly. 

“Baby, hear me out first, fuck–” he groans when you peck his lips again, whining at him in a way that has him clenching his jaw but this time, he cups your cheeks and pulls you away from him and you finally open your eyes and look at him, pouting at him with a needy look on your face. Fuck. “Fucking hell, wait– you need to tell me if you really want this or if its the alcohol and the weed talking.” 

You shake your head wildly, grabbing his wrists as you lean closer again, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his chin and finally his lips again, the way you always desired to, the way you always dreamed of, the way you always denied yourself of it when it’s all you ever wanted. 

“Is it the alcohol and the weed talking for you?” You murmur against his lips, looking at him through hooded eyes. 

With a frown he shakes his head, “fuck no, I’ve wanted this for so long, sweetheart, you have no idea for how long.” He admits openly, not caring about being vulnerable right now, about admitting his feelings for you – the friendship is ruined now. 

Your lips twitch, eyes shining with nothing but love for him, for your best friend, your heart bursts in your chest, everything in you calms down yet screams in joy. You can see the anxiety in his eyes, the fear that lingers within him, you want to take it. 

“Good, then we’re on the same page,” you whisper happily, nuzzling your nose against his. 

Eddie blinks, staring at you, stunned. A shaky breath falls from his lips, his heart has stopped beating for a moment, the world has stopped moving, time has stopped. He had dreamed of this for so long, fantasized about what it would feel like to kiss you, to touch you, to hold you, to love on you but he had never thought of this, simply because he never thought it would happen, that it would be a possibility, you feeling the same. He thought he was doomed, cursed to spend his life loving you from afar and watching you slip through his fingers as the years would pass, he would love you while you would love someone else, while you would build a life with someone else, he would stay your best friend, the obsessed, lovesick best friend who would never move on, the best friend who would choose you over and over again even if he was given the chance to be loved by someone else, he would never love anyone the way he loves you, his heart belongs to you, fully. He is yours, he had always been yours but he never thought that you could be his, no matter how many nights he spent wishing for it. Life had never been kind to him so why would it grant him the highest wish he has? And yet, here you are, looking at him as though he hung the stars and the moon, as though he is the best thing that was ever created, like he is something pure, something beautiful, something worth loving. Have you always looked at him this way? 

His eyes start burning as his heart starts beating again, the warmth he felt because of you, turning into burning desire, the desire to claim you like he had always wanted to, to rip his heart from his chest and give it to you. 

You whisper his name sweetly, grabbing his hand softly, you move it down your shoulder, your chest and finally placing it above your beating heart. 

“All for you, baby.” 

His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes flicker between your face and his hand, feeling the racing of your heart that matches the beat of his own. His eyes soften, love taking over the lust that was flashing in them just moments ago. He doesn’t know what to say, the words are stuck in his throat, he is speechless. 

You can see it, you can see the shock in his eyes, he stares at you like he wonders if this is real or not. He is breathing heavily, blinking slowly, his lips part, cheeks flushing. 

“Eddie–”

Suddenly, he moves forward and grabs your cheeks again, slamming his lips against yours roughly, desperately. He kisses you hotly, strongly, more intensely than he did before, like he is scared that you might slip away if he doesn’t do it this way. 

You throw your arms around his neck again, whining needily into the kiss, you part his lips with your tongue and slip it into his mouth, deepening the kiss further as you grind your hips against him, making him moan against your lips as he holds you stronger, gripping you tightly as though he is scared that you will slip away if he doesn’t. 

This kiss is much hungrier than the first, so much deeper and intense, it’s filled with a desperation that was pent up for a long, long time – not weeks or even months, but years. He waited for years for this, you can feel it and your heart races wildly for him. The need to show him just how much you want him too, how you reciprocate his love burns so deeply within you. 

You grind your hips against his, feeling just how hard he is for you, the ache between your legs becomes worse, unbearable, and he can tell, he can feel by the way you move your hips, by the sounds of your needy whines. 

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself, never had he felt such desperation before, such an overwhelming amount of love. He feels stuck between wanting to cry out of pure happiness while making love to you and devouring you vigorously as he shows you just how much he needs, wants you. 

His ringed fingers dig into your waist and he begins to push you off of him, guiding you down against the soft cushions without breaking the kiss, he groans against your lips when you spread your legs for him, tugging him on top of you before he can even do it himself. God, you truly want him just as much.

Eddie slides his hand up your body, cupping your cheek once more, he continues kissing you, clashing his tongue against yours, making you mewl as he takes control and grinds against you, a movement that tears out a different kind of sound in you, a whine so needy that it sends shockwaves through his body. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathes against your lips heavily as he pulls away from the kiss and opens his eyes to reveal just how dark they are now. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, causing your shirt to ride up in the process, your panties exposed to him now. 

He clenches his jaw, trying to control himself but it’s becoming so hard when you are under him like this, looking up at him with those needy eyes as you grab each side of his neck, leaning up to kiss him, again and again, pecking his cheeks and his lips before you trail the kisses down to his jawline. 

“I need you so bad, Eds,” you whisper into his skin, moving your hand down his shoulder and his arm, fingernails grazing his goosebump covered skin, you take his hand in yours and bring it back down to your body, placing it on your chest, “please?” You ask in desperation. 

He takes a deep breath, making his heart flutter and his body burn when he grabs at your boobs for the very first time. 

“Please what?” He murmurs as he presses you down again so he can latch his lips onto your jawline. “Tell me what you need, sweet girl. My fingers, my tongue… or my cock?” He surprises himself when those words fall off his lips when he doesn’t even know how to function at this moment. 

You shut your eyes and bite your lip when he kisses down your neck, finding your sweet spot with no struggle, he starts sucking. 

“Mmm, y-your fingers,” you whimper as you take his other free hand and guide it down your stomach slowly, “want your fingers, Eddie and then your cock.”

He could cum right here and there, he had dreamed of this too many times. 

“Yeah?” He rasps against you, still kissing your neck, “you want me to fuck you with my fingers first?”

You nod wildly, bringing his hand down to your laced panties, you spread your legs further, grinding against him needily. You are so wet, having soaked through your panties already. 

“I-I always think about you when I touch myself, I imagine it’s your fingers instead of mine,” you admit with burning cheeks. 

Eddie opens his eyes widely, leaning back from your neck after marking it up, he looks at your blushing face. 

“R-Really?” He stutters, though with a satisfied look on his face. 

Through hooded eyes, you look at your best friend as you nod shyly, humming. 

“Guess we got something in common then,” Eddie smirks as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, he pecks your lips as he slips his fingers down between your legs, finally, cupping your pussy, he presses against your wetness, growling at the feeling. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.”

“I always am for you!” You whine, desperately grinding against the heel of his hand. 

His cock twitches at your words, stomach tensing up. 

The thought that you might’ve been sitting next to him during movie nights, squirming because of him, waiting to go home so you could touch yourself while thinking of him drives him insane. If he had known… he could’ve done this way sooner. 

Eddie pushes your panties aside, dipping his fingers through your folds, he makes both you and himself moan. 

“Don’t tease,” you whimper, bucking your hips and pressing yourself against him as he teases your entrance. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eddie says as he brings his digits up to your clit, “can’t believe you’re letting me do this.”

While the shocked look on his face and the disbelief is cute, you can tell what is going on – what went on in his head all this time that he thought that his feelings would never be reciprocated. 

You grab his face and smash your lips against his again, kissing him just as roughly as he kissed you the second time, you try to show him, to make him feel what had been there all this time, and he welcomes it so happily, kissing you back right away while his fingers continue to move against your clit, teasingly at first, intensifying the aching inside of you. He licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours as he moans needily, getting lost in the feeling he had craved for so long.

His stomach flutters when you wrap one leg around his waist while rolling your hips, wanting and needing more, he can feel you getting wetter and wetter, moans getting louder, lips moving sloppier. He slips his fingers lower, dipping his middle finger into you slowly, inching it inside of you, pulling the neediest sounds out of you as you clench around him already. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your mouth, “you’re so tight.”

“More!” You demand with a whine, making him chuckle. 

“More huh? One finger not enough for you, sweets?” He asks to which you shake your head, furrowing your brows when he adds a second finger, scissoring them inside of you as he opens you up. 

“No, I-I want more,” you whimper at the feeling of him splitting you open, preparing you for his dick, just the thought of it has you drooling already. “I need–” the words die on your tongue and you quickly forget what you even wanted to say when he starts fucking you in slow but deep movements. 

“You need what, hmm?” He taunts you, unable to hide the satisfied smirk on his face as he watches you fall apart beneath him, losing your mind over just his fingers as your jaw falls slack and those sweet sounds begin to fill the room along with the squelching of your pussy. “God… You’re so fucking wet.” Eddie doesn’t even know what to do with himself, his heart is beating like crazy, his cock is aching in his grey sweats that feel way too tight by now, pre cum already leaking through the thick material, something he should feel embarrassed about, but he can’t, not when you look him up and down like you’re some hungry and feral animal in heat. 

“All because of you, I’ve been wet all day!” You whine as you grab at his hair when he buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your skin as he covers you in love bites. He growls against you, loving those words a little too much. 

His wrist starts moving faster, fingers splitting you open, he fucks them in and out of you. 

“Do you fuck your tight little pussy like this too?” 

Your brows are scrunched together so tightly, eyes rolling back when he curls them inside of you, hitting just the right spot to make you cry out. 

“N-No! Not t-this good!” 

You roll your hips against his hand, craving to feel him deeper. Your hands are all over him, his hair, his shoulders, his back, gripping at his shirt as you hold on for dear life while he sucks on your neck and fingerfucks your sopping pussy. The room is filled with such dirty sounds, something that should leave you a blushing mess, something that should leave your cheeks burning in embarrassment but you cannot bother to care, it just feels so good and Eddie fucking loves it. 

He pulls back to look at you, to admire your face and those marks he left on you, proudly he looks down at you, a look of love, a look of lust flashing in his eyes. He watches the way you bite your lip, eyes open widely again, you admire him too. And then, you push yourself up on your elbow, pecking his lips before you look down at his hand, wanting to see, wanting to watch his fingers moving in and out of you. 

“You like that, huh?” He mumbles as he presses his forehead against yours, “you like being fucked by your best friend like this?” 

You whimper again, louder this time as you nod, clenching around his fingers so tightly that he can’t help but growl – how is he going to last? How will he be able to control himself not to cum the second he enters you? 

Everything becomes so much hotter, the air around you, the energy in this room, his body against yours, his fingers inside of you, the coil in your stomach, everything starts burning and somehow, it only fuels the need in you. 

You grab at the hem of your shirt and push it up to your collarbones, exposing your chest to him, your boobs bounce as you throw your head back against the pillow to see him better and his reaction does not disappoint, if you weren’t so lost in pleasure you would have giggled at the awestruck look on his face, at the wide eyes and the parted lips. 

“Baby,” he whispers as he presses his large hand to your now bare waist, slipping it upwards slowly, “you’re unreal, fuck… you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as though in disbelief, staring down at you as though you are something that came straight out of his imagination. He grabs your boob roughly, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he leans down and wraps his lips against the other, wasting no time to suck on it, making you arch your back against him as you throw your hand into his curls, fingers grazing his scalp as you give it a harsh tug, something that he fucking loves. 

“I-I… oh my god!” You whimper as tears begin to pull in your eyes when he presses his thumb to your clit, teasing you. “D-Don’t stop! Don’t stop, Eddie! That feels so good!” You nearly scream as he starts moving his fingers faster than before, fucking them in and out of you roughly. You are clenching around him, digging your heel into his ass as you move along to his thrusts. 

He looks up at you, loving the sight of you coming undone before him, it’s the prettiest sight to him. He can’t wait to watch you fall apart beneath him when he actually fucks you. He licks around your nipple, adding more pleasure to your body. 

“Eddie!” You writhe beneath him, blinking the tears away as you look down at him. Your stomach tenses up, burning as the pleasure builds up more and more, almost becoming unbearable, everything inside of you is lit on fire, absolutely every part of you. Your toes curl, your knuckles turn white from how rough you are grabbing at his curls, the sounds that fall from your mouth are almost not recognizable, sounding too pornographic but you have never felt anything like this before, especially not from just being finger fucked. 

Eddie pushes himself back up, straightening his back, he slides his hand further up your chest, passing your collarbones and settling around your throat, he tests the waters at first, needing you to be okay with this – he watches the way your eyes darken at this, lips parting as you push yourself up on your elbows, you bring your hand up to his wrist, wrapping your fingers tightly around it, you press it harder against your throat, asking him to choke you. 

Eddie laughs darkly, lips curling into a satisfied grin, he shakes his head at you, “of course you’re into that shit. You’re a naughty girl aren’t you?” 

It takes you a moment to answer his question because the view before you is just a little too distracting. Eddie hovers over you with one hand between your thighs, knuckle deep buried inside of you while his other hand is now wrapped around your throat, rings on, veins popping out of his tattooed forearm, dark curls falling in front of his face as he looks down at you like he wants to devour you but make love to you at the same time. 

God, he is beautiful. 

Your eyes move down his body, the wet patch on his sweatpants, the bulge making you drool, making you want to drop to your knees for him, worship him, choke on him, suck the soul out of him. You can’t help yourself, moving your hand down his stomach, you grab his dick, wiping the smirk off his face completely as he moans loudly. 

“F-Fuck, sweetheart.”

You palm him through his sweats, teasing him the way he teased you, though Eddie is less patient than you are. His hips stutter, a whimper falls off his lips so prettily and you almost tease him for it but he curls his fingers so deeply inside of you, presses his thumb against your clit so strongly that your vision blurs for a second. 

“Eddie… Eddie!” You say his name twice, pressing your hand stronger against him, you hook your fingers around the band of his pants. 

“D-Don’t tease me or else I’ll cum right this second,” he growls as his cheeks start burning at his words. 

“Don’t do that,” you warn as you push his pants down just enough, his dick slaps against his stomach, precum leaking out and rolling down his length, his tip an angry red, thick veins so prominent. Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him, of his size, his length. 

Eddie looks down at you with burning cheeks and begging eyes, he feels the way you clench around his fingers, feels how you soak his digits. 

You look at him intensely, watching him fall apart at nothing but the touch of your hand, his eyelashes flutter, a content sigh falling from his lips when you wrap your fingers around his length, “your cock is so pretty, Eds,” you purr, jerking him off slowly, you tease him a little, “I want to choke on it.”

His hips stutter, cock twitching in your hand as he whimpers at your words, “fuck… you can’t just say that to me.”

You pull your hand away from him, holding it up to him, “spit.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, eyes darkening further but he complies, right away, he spits into your hand and watches the way you bring it back down to his dick, wrapping your fingers around him again, you grip him just perfectly, jerking him off in a way that he only ever dreamed off. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he moans, clenching his jaw in concentration, his eyes moving back and forth between your glistening pussy and your hand getting him off. “I-I won’t last long,” he warns you, wanting to get lost in the pleasure, but even more so, he wants to feel you wrapped around him. 

With your free hand, you tug at his wrist, needing to feel his lips on yours again and without wasting a second, he slams his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly as he takes full control, parting your lips with his tongue, he moans into your mouth when you clench around his fingers again. 

The room is now filled with heavy moans, no longer coming from the TV but from you and him, desperation so clear in both your voices, lips smacking against one another so needily and the alcohol, the weed in your systems only makes it all a tad bit more intense. 

As much as Eddie is enjoying the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, he has to stop you or else he will cum before getting what he actually wants. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against you, lips twitching when you already whine in protest, “baby, I-I fuck… I need you stop or else I’ll cum too fucking soon.”

You pull away begrudgingly, wanting to pout at him but he quickly distracts you by speeding up his fingers inside of you. Letting go of your throat, he brings his now free hand down to your clit, wasting no second to play with your sensitive nub while he curls and slams his fingers in and out of you. 

A gasp falls from your lips as he repeatedly brushes your sweet spot, the one that allows you to see stars. A single tear slips down your cheek, one that he instantly kisses away. You want to look at him, you want to watch your best friend but the pleasure becomes too much and you can’t help but shut your eyes tightly. Your stomach burns in a way that has you whimpering and when you try to close your legs to relieve that pleasurable pain, he grabs your knee and stops you. 

“I can feel you clenching around my fingers, baby,” he murmurs hotly against your lips, “I know you want to cum, so let go for me,” he whispers, “let go.” One more swipe against your clit, one last thrust, one more kiss to your neck and you come undone for your Eddie, leaking around his fingers as your body trembles beneath his. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper. 

He slows down his movements, looking down at your legs to see them shaking, just from this. He lets you ride out your orgasm, giving you a moment to catch your breath. He kisses your face, your cheeks, your forehead, your jawline and your lips. And then, he pulls his fingers out of you, his mouth waters at the sight of your slick, wasting no time to bring his digits up to his lips, he dips them on his tongue, closing his eyes at your taste, he moans loudly. 

You open your eyes at the sound, stunned, you stare at him in hunger and lust, watching the way he laps at his fingers that were inside of you just seconds ago. His eyes are closed and he looks content. If you hadn’t been so feral already, you definitely would have been by now. 

“You’re even sweeter than I thought,” he mewls after releasing his fingers with a pop, opening his eyes to look down at you with a smirk. “I can’t wait to take my time and eat your pussy.” 

You grab him by the chain around his neck, tugging at it harshly, you’re surprised it doesn’t break by the force, you pull him back down against you and kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

Eddie smiles against your lips, loving the way you moan at your own taste. He feels your hands sliding down his back, tugging at his shirt, demanding him to take it off and he does so instantly, only breaking the kiss for a second so he can tear it off his skin before his lips are back on yours, his pants are next to go as you push them down further, with your help he kicks them off, not caring where they land. 

He hooks his finger around your ruined panties, he begins to tug at them and you push your hips up so he can take them off, dragging them down your legs, he throws them to the ground beside his clothes before you both pull away from the kiss to take off the shirt that is still bunched up over your chest. 

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, looking at you in awe and then, his lips return to you and he places his elbows on either side of your head, pressing his chest against yours as you wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him closer and closer until nothing separates you any longer, until he feels your heat against his aching dick and he is so close, so close to getting what he wanted, until he remembers. 

“Fuck,” he curses in annoyance, clenching his jaw already as he breaks the kiss, “wait…” But you don’t listen, cupping his cheeks, you make it even harder for him when you keep kissing him, pleading for more. 

Frustration bubbles up inside of him and he almost wants to cry. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, shakily. “Wait, wait, wait…”

Finally, you pull away, eyes filled with curiosity, “what?”

“I don’t–” he cuts himself off, rolling his eyes as he clenches his fists and closes his eyes for a moment, “I don’t have a condom,” he says through gritted teeth, feeling dejected but then he feels you pull him closer again, cupping the back of his neck, you press your lips back against his.

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control and I’m clean,” you whisper, pressing your heel against his bum, “I waited too long for this, so don’t stop… please, Eddie.” 

A growl threatens to spill from his lips, the feeling of frustration is suddenly replaced by something else, not only the need he had felt for so long but something else, something much stronger, something that has him fighting his inner demons. 

He opens his eyes, staring at you as though you had gone crazy. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, sweets?” 

You giggle so cutely at that, in a way that makes him want to pound you into this couch until you are nothing but a screaming mess. 

“I have an idea,” you admit smugly, batting your eyelashes at him as your eyes flicker back and forth between his tattoos and his lips, hand already moving down his stomach, fingers reaching for him, you bite your lip as you look into his eyes, he is staring at you so intensely that it makes you blush. You wrap your fingers around his length again, mewling when you guide him through your wet folds, teasing both you and himself. 

Eddie grips the pillow beneath your head, cursing at the feeling. You can tell that he is trying to control himself, trying to keep his composure but he is losing it quickly when he feels your heat, your wetness. 

With your free hand, you hold onto his bicep, looking up at him with begging eyes, “please, fuck me, Eddie,” you whisper as you tilt your head up to kiss his lips, “show me how bad you want me, don’t hold back… please–” 

With a growl, he lets your words die on your tongue, replacing your hand with his own, he guides himself to your entrance, nudging it with the leaking tip of his cock, he presses his forehead and his lips to yours as he thrusts inside of you, torturously, splitting you open around his length. 

His heart could burst for feeling you so close, so intimately, his love for you burning stronger than ever, the immortal flame getting bigger and bigger, his body feels on fire, his soul feels at home and now he knows you feel the same, when you hold him close and you kiss him so passionately, tightening your legs around his waist in order to feel him closer, whimpering into him in such a needy way while you keep grabbing at him like he isn’t close enough despite being pressed against you, he knows you feel the same, in every way. 

He pushes into you deeper and deeper, scrunching his eyebrows in concentration as he feels you fully, working you open with nothing between you. He feels your warmth, feels your heat around him, your wetness dripping down onto the couch beneath you as fills you up completely. He never felt anything like this before, he never thought he would but god, he is already addicted, he had always been to you but now even worse, he will never be the same again, he will come back to Hawkins a changed man. 

“Fucking hell, darling,” he growls against your lips as he stills inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size and himself a moment to concentrate so he doesn’t ruin this by coming too soon, though the thought of filling you up with his seed drives everything in him crazy, he wants it, craves it so bad. “You feel so… so perfect.”

You’re wailing, squirming beneath him, already looking down, wanting to see your bodies connected as sensitive whimpers escape your mouth. 

“Y-You’re so big, Eddie,” you say, eyes blurred with tears, words leaving your mouth breathlessly, “hurts so good.”

Your words don’t exactly do him a favor, especially when he opens his eyes and he looks down at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down heavily, the way you look down between your legs in desperation before your big eyes look up at him, glassy. Your lips are so puffy from all the kissing, your forehead glistening with sweat, your cheeks flushed. 

Your walls flutter around him, making it harder and harder for him. 

Eddie grabs your chin, “you’re so fucking gorgeous, baby, so fucking sweet and good for me but you’re driving me crazy, right now.”

“Fuck me,” you whimper, pouting at him as you hold his bicep harder, “please, fuck me, Eddie. I need it, I need you so bad– ah!” You scream out when he pulls out and slams back inside of you again. 

“Shh, I got you, I got you, baby,” he shushes your words, “can’t believe you are so desperate for my cock.” 

Your nails dig into his skin, your free hand gets lost in his hair, tugging at his curls as you roll your hips against his, going crazy at the feeling of him inside of you. 

“Please, please, please!” 

Eddie groans at your pleading, at the obvious desperation, at the need that you feel for him, and only him. His left knee digs into the soft cushions on the couch and he places his right foot against the floor, watching your face intently as he starts rolling his hips, making you gasp out loudly. 

“Oh my–” He pants, eyes rolling back as your name falls from his lips. 

“You… I…” You stutter, unable to find the right words, to even come up with anything as you lose yourself in this feeling. Your mouth waters and so do your eyes, his chain dangles before your face as he thrusts into you, faster and faster, deeper and rougher. You can’t help but clench around him, he fills you up so perfectly, his tip brushes against that one spot so rightly. 

You throw your arms around him as he cups the top of your head, holding eye contact with you as he rolls his hips harder. 

“I’m so fucking obsessed with you, do you even know that?” He kisses your lips, smacking them loudly against yours. 

“Mmm, I’m obsessed with you too, baby,” you whimper as you meet his thrusts, rolling your hips as well. 

“I never thought I’d get to have this, to have you.” 

You only hold onto him tighter in response, leaning into his neck, you brush your nose against it and latch your lips onto his neck, pecking along until you find that one spot that makes him whine, you start sucking, marking him up the way he did to you, not knowing just how feral that makes him. 

To wear your marks on his skin, to be claimed as yours makes his heart burst but it awakens something in him, because suddenly, he feels the need to pound you into this couch and he does so, he snaps his hips into yours, thrusting roughly. 

“Eddie!” You scream out in a choked sob, digging your nails into his skin as you cling to his body. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans loudly, not bothering to hide just how desperate you make him feel. He cups the back of your neck and pulls you back down, wanting and needing to see your face, he wastes no second before his lips are back on yours and his hips strike roughly into you, cock slamming in and out of you, the squelching sounds of your pussy filling the room, along with your moans and the slapping sounds as he fucks you. 

Neither of you want to pull away from the kiss, no matter how sloppy it gets, you don’t want to break the kiss and neither does he, not even when you grow breathless. You cling to each like you never did before, welcoming the pleasure that becomes almost too much. There is soreness in your thighs, burning in your lower back and an overwhelming sensation inside of you, an itch that only he can mend. 

And Eddie, he feels as though he is losing his mind, getting to feel this, to feel you, to kiss you and swallow your moans as your dripping walls cling to his cock, twitching around him and begging to be filled. Your arms and legs are so tight around him, you beneath him like he had only seen you in his dreams and in his imagination, you’re shaking, whining and trembling and you are close, he can feel it by the way you are getting tighter and tighter after each of his thrusts. 

Reaching down, he hooks his forearm around the back of your knee and he brings it up, pushing it higher until he can thrust into you from a different angle, one that makes you scream out with a high pitched moan and the neediest look he had ever seen on your face. 

“Fuck… just like that, baby, scream for me,” he rasps out. 

“Y-You’re so good, fuck me… Eds! Your cock feels so nice, please don’t stop, don’t ever stop!” You sputter, not knowing just how those words make him feel. 

You don’t know where to look, his pretty face, how he looks as he fucks you like you only ever dreamed of, how pretty his face is when he moans your name so sexily or how his glistening cock pounds in and out of you. 

And Eddie struggles just the same, though he settles on watching your beautiful face, wanting to see you fall apart more and more. 

And though you don’t want this moment to end, and neither does he, you both drag it out for as long as you can, not caring about anything anymore, not caring about the mess you are making on the couch. You are both sweaty, you are leaking down onto the cushions and Eddie is sure that he ripped a hole into the pillow beneath you earlier from how roughly he held it. 

A strangled whine leaves your lips and he knows you can’t hold on any longer, so he brings his hand down your stomach, pressing his fingers against your clit, causing you to jerk and whimper against him. 

“You’re close, baby, I can feel it,” he whispers against your neck, not slowing down his movements in the slightest, if anything, he starts fucking you even deeper, making you scream louder now as your fingernails rip through his skin from how hard you’re grabbing him and he welcome that pleasuring burn, “cum around my cock, do it for me, sweetheart. I know you want to be my good girl.” 

With another loud whine, you finally let go of him, arching your back and shutting your eyes tightly, you cum around your best friend's cock, for the first but definitely not the last time. You tighten around him so strongly that his hips stutter and his knees almost buckle, heat spreads through his skin and his stomach tightens as his own body screams for release. 

He can’t wait any longer either and panic ripples through him when you hold him tighter than before, locking him in as you refuse to let go. It makes his heart flutter and it does make him want to release but–

“I need to pull out, sweetheart,” he says shakily, knowing all too well that he doesn’t actually want it and apparently, you don’t either because you start shaking your head at him, opening your needy eyes. 

“No, no, don’t make a mess– cum inside of me, please!” 

His hips stutter once more, his dick twitches achingly inside of you, “you can’t just fucking say that–” he whimpers, unable to finish the sentence, one more thrust and he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed as your name falls from his lips before he smashes his lips to yours for the hundredth time tonight, swallowing your cry. 

Tears of pleasure run down your cheeks, your leg starts slipping from his waist and his thrusts slow down, though his grip doesn’t loosen on you, he continues to hold you close, the way you do as well as you grab his shoulder and his bicep, squeezing him tightly while your tongue clashes against his. 

Your walls spasm and contract around his length, sending shockwaves and an unbearable amount of pleasure through his sensitive body. 

Slowly, he removes his hand from between your legs, sliding it up your hot body until he is cupping your cheek again, he makes you both whimper when he pulls his softening cock out of you. 

Your name rolls off his tongue when you both pull away from the kiss, he says it like it’s a blessing, like a prayer. Your eyes make contact again and you stare at each other for a moment, lovingly, adoringly, and then, you both smile and giggle and press your lips back against each other, pecking one another again and again. 

“My Eddie,” you whisper as you admire the marks you left on him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers when he realizes that this isn’t just a moment, that this isn’t just for now, for tonight, that you waited for it just like he has. He looks down at you, brushing away and tucking your hair behind your ear as he caresses your cheek, his heart soaring in his chest. “I can’t believe this happened.”

You giggle at him, “I’m glad it happened.”

“Yeah?” He grins lazily, eyes dropping to your chest as he leans down and presses his lips to your jaw, “I’m fucking on top of the world right now.”

You brush your fingers through his curls, giggling yet again. 

“You’re a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork, right?” He asks with a hopeful glint in his eyes, one that questions more than just this. He wants to be yours, he wants it so badly. 

You nod happily, eyes flashing with happiness. 

“Mhmm, you’re mine, all mine.”

“Fuck,” he whispers as he feels his sensitive dick twitching at your words, heart bursting inside of him, “I’m yours, all yours.” 

You tug him closer and closer, breathing against his lips as you eye him hungrily again, you feel him leaking out of you and it only makes your thighs burn again, “and I’m yours.” 

“Yeah, you are,” he rasps as his fingers dip inside of you, he groans at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you, he pushes it back into you with a moan, “you’re mine, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, Eddie,” you mewl, pushing your hips up and chasing for more already. 

“You want more?” 

You nod, “yes… more, please!”

Not needing to be told twice, he slowly pushes his fingers and his cum back into you, making you both moan at that. 

“You know what, I'm glad we did this today,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. 

“Yeah?” You moan, arching your back in pleasure when he curls his fingers inside of you. 

“Mhmm, that means I get to fuck you over and over and over for the whole weekend,” he smirks before he slams his lips against yours again, kissing you passionately and sensually while his fingers move and in out of you, creating a mess with his cum leaking out of you and your own wetness sticking to your thighs and his. 

You both fill the room with filthy noises, needy and desperately you touch each other, grabbing and pulling at each others hair as the night goes on, continuing to mark each other up, to taste one another, to fuck like animals in heat, the movie long forgotten as his tongue laps at your pussy when he is kneeled on the ground with your legs dangling of his shoulders and your fingers pull at his hair roughly. 

This night never ends, the pleasure continuing until the early morning hours, until you can no longer take it, until you both get too sensitive, until you’re both nothing but a panting, sweaty mess and even then, you still kiss and cling to one another. 

The night was filled with desperation, with pent up emotions, with filthiness yet with love and adoration, and this night has changed you both forever, for good. 

-

“So… What you’re telling me is–…” Steve begins, arms crossed over his chest, jaw clenched as he stands before you and Eddie with a stern look on his face. You are both on his couch, looking up at him like scolded children. “You need to buy me a new… bed?” 

You are blushing furiously, embarrassment written all over your face. You glare at Robin who is standing in the corner, sipping on her soda with an amused look on her face. 

“Uh… yeah.”

You know how badly Eddie wants to laugh, he is smug, you can see it on his face but he stays quiet, for a second at least. 

“And a new arm chair?” Steve mumbles, looking between you both. 

“Yeah.” Eddie snorts to which you elbow him, shushing him. 

“Don’t forget the flower vase,” Robin snickers. 

Steve throws his hands up, “and a fucking flower vase, thanks Robin!”

You put your finger up and straighten your back, “actually, the flower vase fell by itself–”

“Because you were fucking on top of the table!” Steve retorts to which your boyfriend chuckles in satisfaction, not being embarrassed by anything in the slightest. 

You turn to look at him, he only smirks at you and shrugs, holding your thigh tighter than before. 

“I’d buy a new couch too–”

“Eddie!” 

Robin moves closer and eyes you both, eyeing the matching marks on your necks. 

“I hope you used protection, at least.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, looking at you both expectedly, your flustered face gives you away completely as you sink deeper into the couch, wanting nothing more than to bury your face in Eddie’s neck. 

“Great, now I might be a fucking uncle.”

“Godfather,” Eddie corrects him, making you giggle. 

“Go to hell,” Steve shakes his head, though he can’t hide the look on his face and how delighted he is to hear that he would be considered a godfather if it were to happen. And despite the clear distaste on his face after hearing what you did at his cabin, he can’t help but feel happy for you both. 

Robin looks down with a smile on her face when Eddie wraps his arm around you and kisses your cheek softly and Steve’s eyes soften as well. 

He sighs and rolls his eyes as he finally takes a seat, he reaches for his beer and takes a sip. 

“I’m happy my plan worked but you both will go back, replace the furniture and clean everything up before I lose my shit and I kill you before my parents kill me.”

You nod at him with wide eyes, while Eddie furrows his eyebrows, “clean up? Oh, we did clean up and besides, we didn’t waste a single drop.” 

“Eddie,” you whine as you bury your face in your hands while Robin groans in disgust. 

Steve only sighs but his lips twitch slightly, curling into a smirk as he nods at Eddie. 

“At least I know your children aren’t running around my cabin.” 

You give Eddie a warning glance but he is already smirking at you, gripping your thigh harder, slipping under your skirt. 

“They’re somewhere else.” 

“Oh, gross!” Robin coughs and turns away with a frown on her face. 

“Eddie!” You whine and slap his chest to which he pulls you closer and kisses your cheek, chuckling in amusement. 

Steve shakes his head, sighing. 

“I’m never inviting you both to that summer house ever again.”

[circe69]

your first mission with simon ghost riley didn't go very well.

cw: smutty, ghosts a brat

the cell door you had been working to override had slammed in ghost's face, and at his attempt to open it, you could hear him mutter a curse under his breath.

"fuckin' hell."

"what happened?" you walked over to where he was, and once you tried to pull on the same door, you realized. you two were stuck in the cramped, dark and wet jail cell.

"fuck,” you exhaled and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"stop copying me, cunt."

"oh go to hell, ghost."

"no thanks, i'm trying to get as far away as possible from ya, baby."

you groan out in frustration and banged your head against one of the bars, the condensation sticking to your hair, and all ghost could do was chuckle at you.

"you're so fucking dense."

"eat shit," you hissed out as you swung a closed fist at his chest.

once you made contact, you knew that it was very possible it was your last moments before death.

simon crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at the floor while shaking his head, "tsk," he took a step towards you, "always gotta be so physical," he shoved you back, causing your body to slam against the brick wall.

and guess what? you shoved him the fuck back.

"if you think for one second," you shoved him again, this time pulling his shoulder strap down so he was at eye level with you, "that I'm gonna let you throw me around just cause you want to, you're fucking hilarious. you've got a lotta nerve to even think about touching me, let alone push me back when I've pushed you first-“

ghost grabbed both of your arms from the front of you and shoved them behind your back, pushing your tits out from your shirt and right below his face. he looked down at your cleavage before bouncing back to your eyes, "y'wanna know what I think?" he spat right down the valley of your breasts and watched his saliva snake down your shirt, "i think you like it."

you squirmed under his weight, under his eyes. "fuck. you."

"you. wish."

ghost wasn't an idiot. he could feel the way you were rubbing your thighs together, how your pupils were dilating by the second and the soft pants coming out of your mouth.

"I'm saying all this, baby 'cause I know, if I were to fuck you right now, you'd probably be the best pussy I'd felt in years. maybe ever. I'd wanna take you home and do it over and over again until you're gasping for a break. I'd feed you well. id take care of you. I would fucking love you until death. but that's not who I am, and that's sure as fuck not who you are."

you watched his eyes gaze down to your lips as he lowered his head to yours.

"why not?" you whispered.

"because, baby, I don't fuck women who don't want to. I like wet pussy, not scared pussy. I want it hard and rough but I don't wanna break you forever. and unfortunately, I'll bet you a million dollars that if I reached down and checked right now, your sweet pussy wouldn't be wet. not even close. right?"

you gulped as his fingers realized one of your wrists and snaked down the side of your thigh, "that's a lot of money."

he slithered his hand back up to your waist band before sneaking a finger inside, "isn't it?" you could barely hear his smirk through his words over the intense volume of your heartbeat. you knew for a fact, that someone just lost a lot of money.

as ghost swiped a finger down the middle of your panties, he groaned, "fuck, I'm gonna be bankrupt aren't I?"

"its a stupid bet to make after spitting on a woman's tits."

[rafesangelita]

i feel like rafe has a major housewife kink

warnings: mentions of traditional stuff (just for the sake of the kink, please don’t stone me ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১), rafe is kinda misogynistic, fingering, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex, rough sex, headlock, reader is too fucked out to think about anything else, degradation, slapping, dirty talk, hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, baby tapping threats

“i can’t— oh my, god. rafe!” your eyes fluttered shut for what felt like the hundredth time already, your thighs trembling as both pleasure and pain wracked through your body. rafe had no regard, nor did he care about this being your fourth orgasm as he rubbed your clit into overstimulation like his life depended on it. “yes, you fucking can,” he grunted, forcing your thighs open as they threatened to shut around his hand, “m��gonna keep you cumming until i see tears running down those cheeks.” you cried out at his words, your back arching into his chest at the overwhelming sensation.

rafe hadn’t even fucked you yet, and you were already on the verge of tapping out. flipping you over, rafe snaked an arm underneath your tummy before pulling you up, wasting no time in pressing your face into his pillows. stroking the small of your back, rafe groaned at the sight. he could see the body glitter on your skin, the little specs glinting underneath the dim lighting of his room. “fuck, i wish you would just let me have you already.. i’d make sure to slut you out every single day.” you whimpered when he delivered a harsh smack to the globe of your ass. “you just don’t know,” his aching tip prodded at your entrance, “i’d make sure you’d never have to lift a finger ever again.”

wrapping your hair around his fist, rafe slid into you without warning, drawing a shriek to leave your lips. “you shouldn’t be working in that fucking club,” he said through gritted teeth, “you should be here with me, letting me take care of you. i’ll come home and you’ll be waiting for me with a hot plate,” leaning down, rafe yanked your head back so his mouth was next to your ear, “you’ll keep this place spotless and i’ll buy you whatever the fuck you want,” just then, he wrapped a bicep around your neck, your chin tucked between the crease of his elbow and his forearm, “fuck you however you want.”

rafe’s words were punctuated by his thrusts, your acrylics scratching at his skin as you held onto him for dear life. “just picture that; me using you for all that you’re good for.” maybe it was because everyone who knew you, especially your girlfriends at the club, knew you wouldn’t be settling down anytime soon, or at all for that matter, but the idea of locking you away in tanneyhill and never going anywhere without you hanging off of his arm, making you fully reliant on him, financially and emotionally, it turned him on beyond words could describe. “you don’t even know what i’m saying,” he laughed, “you’re too cock drunk to understand.”

you whimpered pathetically, tears running down your face as he planted a slap to your cheek. “gonna fill up this cunt and trap you, maybe then you’ll understand what i’m saying when i put my baby inside of you.”

[reidsreblogs]

finally after weeks of trying to find this series again I’ve finally gotten my grubby gremlin hands on

𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - wayne munson, eddie munson, the soon-to-be mrs. munson, and you, who wants no part of any of this. one big happy family, right?

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - approx. 60k

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - 18+ content, stepcest (eddie is the reader's step-cousin, but they behave more similarly to step-siblings), loss of parents (not during the story, but it's referenced), drug use, angst fluff and smut all to come

don't forget to read individual chapter warnings! minors dni <3

chapter 1 - welcome to my nightmare

chapter 2 - fight fire with fire

chapter 3 - louder than hell

chapter 4 - photograph

chapter 5 - stone in love

chapter 6 - manic monday

chapter 7 - want some, need some

chapter 8 - shot in the dark

chapter 9 - head over heels

chapter 10 - all the love in the world

[shebrewscoffee]

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ sukuna ryomen wasn’t used to feeling guilty, but the moment he saw the hurt flash in your eyes when you guys got into a pretty heated argument, he knew he had taken things too far.

the way his own sharp tongue had driven you to silence.

you made him weak. he had always thought vulnerability was pathetic, yet here he was, fists clenched as he watched you step away, regretting every sharp word he had thrown at you.

he vowed to never let those pathetic tears clouding your eyes ever again.

the sight of you curled beneath the blanket, your shoulders trembling with suppressed sobs, made him pause. sukuna’s brows drew together as he opened his mouth, but the words failed him.

his pride made it difficult, but eventually, he managed to whisper, “i didn’t mean it.” the raw sincerity in his voice was enough to make your heart ache. however, your fingers toyed with the hem of your sleeve, any excuse to ignore the weight of his presence beside you.

when you refused to look at him, he simply grabbed you and settled you into his lap, resting his chin on your head with a quiet sigh and shifted, pressing you flush against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat pulsed under your touch.

his fingers twitched at his sides before he hesitantly reached out, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, his usual arrogance nowhere to be found.

finally, he muttered, “...i shouldn’t have said that,” voice low but sincere. another sighed and he leaned in, pressing a firm yet lingering kiss to your forehead. his palm remained on your waist, as though savoring the contact

sukuna didn’t say anything. he just looked at you — eyes laced with regret and a depth of emotion words could never capture.

sukuna had held many things in his life — power, destruction, fear. but this? this quiet, fragile thing between you, where silence spoke louder than words, where his grip on you felt more like an anchor than a restraint; this was something else entirely.

and for once, he didn’t know whether to embrace it or run from it. by silently saying, i don’t want to lose you.

after cupping your face and pressing a lingering kiss against your lips, sukuna’s voice dropped to a low murmur, rough yet laced with something almost uncertain.

“does this mean i'm forgiven?”

it wasn’t teasing, nor was it smug; just quiet, almost reluctant, as if he wasn’t sure he deserved it.

“no,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

“tch. brat.” his grip on your face tightened slightly; not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who you were dealing with. then, without warning, he kissed you again, deeper this time, as if daring you to say it again.

when he pulled back, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “try saying that again, darling.”

[synvil]

“and for my husband,” // rafe cameron blurb

synopsis : you do the 'husband' trend on your boyfriend.

“that’ll be a large,”

as you dig into your wallet, pulling out some cash to pay for your drinks, rafe doesn’t even realize what comes out of your lips until it’s too late. “and my husband will take an expresso.”

the cashier doesn’t seem to care or even notice his widened eyes as she rings you up, while her coworker gets started on your drinks. “your total will be $10.49. are you paying cash or card?”

you hand a ten dollar bill and a one dollar bill and hold it out for her. “cash.” you reply, watching as she takes it from you and you can notice rafe is staring at you, with parted lips.

did you just say what he think he heard?

"that'll be a few minutes on the end."

"great, thank you." you share a smile before reaching for rafe's hand and dragging him over to the opposite end of the counter to wait. rafe has no other choice but to follow after, cheeks undoubtedly a tinge of pink. still holding your hand, he pulls you towards him, making you spin to him.

"so.. husband, huh?"

you purse your lips to hide your breaking smile as you peer up at him innocently. "hm? what's wrong?"

rafe chuckles in disbelief at your innocent act and coy attitude as his grin grows wider. "what was that all about just now? im your husband now?"

you simply shrug and turn away but the mischievous smile curling on your lips give you away. "well, eventually right? i have to practice at some point." as you're giggling, rafe just shakes his head with a small roll of his eyes but his smile softens.

and when he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, he hums. meanwhile his other hand lays in his pocket, his fingers wrapped around a small velvet box.

"well, that's the plan."

a/n : just fluff. i think doing tiktok trends on rafe would be so cute and funny haha. i might make a series lmao.

[httpsserene]

𝟏-𝟖𝟎𝟎-𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏-𝐌𝐄-𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 - 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔

summary: fans notice that charles’ cars are suddenly being parked perfectly. come to find out, his (secret) girlfriend has been parking his ferrari like butter.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!poc!reader

smau (ignore dates on tweets pls). fluff & humor. explicit language. two or three uses of "y/n." charles’ canonically questionable parking. reader goes undercover on f1twt. charles gets cyberbullied /jk? secret agent roleplay? (don't ask, it'll make sense, maybe). big thx to the girlies on twt who had threads of charles' bad parking photos ;p

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚ this is like mid-level charles leclerc stan knowledge. bro put all of his skill points into racepace and forgot about parking his daily cars 😭 enjoy reading, my loves xxx

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

instagram • f1fanpagemonaco

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

f1fanpagemonaco the planets must be in alignment because charles leclerc has perfectly parked his ferrari this afternoon 😱

tagged charles_leclerc

view comments

user1 i-i can't believe my eyes 😧

user2 it's only taken him a decade to learn how to parallel park LOL

user3 monaco native here! can confirm- his cars have decreased cosplaying as road obstructions for about three months :)

user4 THREE MONTHS ??!!? how is this the first time i'm hearing about this ???

user5 i don't believe this. did anybody SEE him park the car 🤨🤨🤨

user6 we're going to find out this photo was ai generated in a couple weeks haha

user7 take this down !!! we're supposed to keep this on the dl to avoid jinxing ourselves 🤬

user8 fr, i thought every monegasque was in agreement about staying hushed :(

user9 after almost flying over the hood of his cars TWICE on my bicycle- i'm glad that he's improving his parking skills ☺️

user9 HIS BROTHERS AND FRIENDS IN THE LIKES IS EVEN CRAZIER??! CHARLES STAND UP FOR YOURSELF ⁉️⁉️

user8 didn't you just say that you almost crashed into his (badly) parked car in the comment above ? user9 i fail to see how that's relevant rn

user10 charles woke up saying "i understand it now" and performed the best parallel parking known to man

user11 y'all are getting ahead of yourselves. there's a very high chance that it was valet parking 🙄

user5 this is what i'm saying!!! user12 lol what if he decided to hire a private driver 🤣 user13 charles would neverrrrr—remember how he acted on the start-stop challenge we Carlos 👀 user14 he DOES NOT serve passenger princess ☠️

twitter

imessage • charles -> yn

twitter • @ cl16sleftnipple -> yn's undercover fan acct

imessage • yn -> charles

igstory • charles_leclerc has uploaded !

[caption; she accepts watching sunsets on a yacht as a form of payment 😉]

this story is unavailable. get notifications when charles_leclerc shares a story.

igstory • yninstagram has uploaded to their close friends story !

[caption; if anyone is looking for a chauffeur call me at 1-800-HELP-ME-PARK 😅]

franciscacgomes u have to take me on a joyride the next time i'm in monaco !!!

yninstagram yes! we'll ditch the boys for the day and collect some speeding tickets with the stradale ;p

yourfriend do you do weddings 👀

yninstagram weddings, birthdays, bachelor & bachelorette parties, etc. yourfriend how much do you charge? yninstagram 4 cheeseburger

charles_leclerc i thought i hired you for your exclusivity 😑

yninstagram shh mon amour you'll always be my favorite client xoxo

olliebearman if i get him for secret santa next year, i'm gifting him parking lessons 😆

yninstagram you'd be my favorite child if you did 🛐 olliebearman :DDD

instagram • f1fanpagemonaco

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

f1fanpagemonaco charles leclerc posts and deletes a photo of an unknown woman to his instagram story in the midst of a rampant discussion of his suddenly improved parking! it's captioned: "she accepts watching sunsets on a yacht as a form of payment." was this an accidental post of the rumored chauffeur that's behind the perfect parking of his vehicles?

tagged charles_leclerc

view comments

user17 the winky face emoji is making me think she's more than just his chauffeur 👀👀👀

user18 we really do need to open the schools :/

user19 bc how do you read the caption and not see that it's blatant confirmation that he's hired a driver?

user20 i don't even have to see behind that champagne flute to know that she's a baddie 😮‍💨

user21 now that i think about it, i think i saw a woman with this exact outfit walking a dachshund that could’ve been leo!!! wish we could see more of her face to confirm ☹️

user22 does anybody else think that this was just meant to distract us from the original issue of charles being unable to park a car???

user23 talk about it!!! user24 i mean it doesn't really matter if he can park anymore now that he's paying somebody to do it for him 🤷‍♀️

twitter • @ cl16sleftnipple -> yn's undercover fan acct

imessage • yn -> charles

instagram • f1fanpagemonaco

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

f1fanpagemonaco the plot thickens 😱 the woman rumored to be charles leclerc's chauffer was caught parking his car and taking a photo afterward! this confirms her chauffeur status AND leads many to think that she's also the woman behind @/cl16sleftnipple on twitter. our discord members have hunted down what may be her instagram account too 🧐

view comments

user25 why do i feel so violated!!! his chauffeur has been a double agent the entire time 🤯

user26 tbh charles better be paying her beautifully !!!

user27 iktr bc i would not try to convince everybody on the internet that he can park when it's really me doing all the work!

user28 i think i'm in love with her

user29 who is this diva 💜

user30 next thing you know we're gonna find out she has a tumblr for f1 ff's 😭😭😭

user31 i think somebody is leaking the plot to the next trending netflix original movie 👄

user32 lwk i think i could convince her to drive me around in my prius 🤥

user33 you forget how to speak around hot women and only have $12.32 in your checking acct—you couldn't even convince her to breathe the same air as you bestie 😘 user32 i know you like to think that calling me bestie after reading me to filth will make up for it, but it just makes me want to strangle you even more :)

instagram • charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

charles_leclerc if you're going to reveal who cl16sleftnipple is, at least get her job title correct 😠 she's not my chauffeur, she's my girlfriend and parking princess 👸🏾🤗😘🥰🤭🤤😚

view comments

yninstagram can you believe that he doesn't like when i drive but he BEGS me to park ??? make it make sense 😅

charles_leclerc ma chérie you REFUSE to use the break pedal!!! yninstagram break pedals are 4 losers (i am speed 🏎)

user35 GIRLFRIEND???!!! 😵‍💫😵👻

user36 when you say girlfriend, do you mean that she's a friend who happens to be a girl orrrrrrrrrr?

charles_leclerc orrrrr girlfriend meaning l'amour de ma vie 🥰🥰🥰

user37 two pretty people in a happy relationship? 2025 isn't so bad 😌

user36 maybe the world is healing 🥹 user37 maybe charles leclerc wdc 2025 🫣 yninstagram pls don't jinx it 😩 go knock on wood rn 🫵🏾

user38 why did she go with "cl16sleftnipple" as her username???

yninstagram because it's my favorite one obv 😇 charles_leclerc what's wrong with my right nipple :(((( yninstagram idk it just looks at me weird sometimes... user38 how does a body part look at you weirdly 😀

user39 oh, this baddie is weird? say less, i'm sending her my credit card information rn

user40 charles leclerc core LMFAOOO

user41 waiiiiitttt does this mean she's not gonna use her fan acct anymore :(

user42 aw man i didn't even think about that; i was constantly on twt just to see what funny shit she was saying lol yninstagram if the people want more of cl16sleftnipple who am i to deny them 😌👐🏾

instagram • yninstagram

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

yninstagram AITA for saving the citizens of monaco by parking my (25 F) boyfriend's (27 M) cars for him because he's incapable of fitting within two lines without being a road hazard?

comments on this post have been limited

yourfriend TLDR: she lost the plot by starting a fan twt to try and save her bf's reputation (who's notoriously known for his shit parking) it backfired bc everybody thought she was his chauffeur

yourfriend (cont.) now charles has to suffer with the world knowing that he has his gf position his cars AND that he still can't park charles_leclerc this wasn't necessary 😒 yourfriend is that what you said when it was time to learn how to parallel park ☠️

lilymhe reminds me of the time charles blocked traffic picking you up from brunch last year 😆

franciscacgomes i remember when the honks started and yn was like "oh, that probably means charles is here!" lilyzneimer first brunch i went to with the wags and i left with tinnitus from the sound of car horns blaring 🥲 yninstagram sorry little lily! next meet up will be honk free :) yninstagram ...was v embarrassing to get into the car that's blocking traffic 🫠

oscarpiastri NTA 👍🏻

oscarpiastri is now a good time to say that charles almost backed his car into me before padel yesterday? charles_leclerc NO IT WILL NEVER BE A GOOD TIME TO SAY THAT yninstagram mb the electric scooter wasn't such a bad idea…

maxverstappen1 NTA 😹😹😹

lando thinking about how much money charles loses to parking fines 🤣

olliebearman not to pray on his downfall but

olliebearman when his license gets suspended can i get the spider 🥺 arthurleclerc NUH UH 🙅🏻‍♂️ i get the spider and you get the sf90 oscarpiastri i'll take the daytona then 👍🏻 pierregasly i think i can make room for the roma 😌 charles_leclerc yeah this isn't praying, it's PLANNING on my downfall 😒😒😒

general taglist (ask to join):

@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool

@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea

@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification

@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/

@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25

@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134

@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking

@nikfigueiredo/@bbreezyxoxo/@catreadsthings/@princessminjikwon/@il0vereadingstuff

@nissaimmortal/@justaf1girl@floweringlee

© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos used in header and throughout are from pinterest.

[reidsreblogs]

this was such a cute read 🥺🥺 the flow on this fic was incredible, the random infodumping from spence was so in-character, i love it🥹

Who Needs Time Management When I Have You?

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: one of the many perks of having a boyfriend with flawless memory is that you do not have to remember stuff—he remembers them for you.

genre: tooth-rotting domestic fluff

word count: 1.5k words

author's notes: i wrote this because domestic!spencer reid is a guilty pleasure of mine. i can definitely picture him as an attentive boyfriend because aside from the fact that he has flawless memory, he's an overall caring guy. with that said, i hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. enjoy! <3

also posted on ao3 (spencereids)

One of the many perks of having a boyfriend with flawless memory is that you do not have to remember stuff—he remembers them for you. Do you have a dentist's appointment at 9? Covered. He will be waking you up at 7 with breakfast in bed. Your sister’s birthday is coming up. No worries! He has already ordered a bouquet ready to be sent on the day. It is amazing, and you thank your lucky stars for him every morning when you wake up and see him cozily sleeping beside you.

However, you were out of luck on the boyfriend angle today. You had your monthly—or if the BAU is free—girls' night scheduled tonight. As much as you enjoy having girls' nights with the BAU girls, Spencer also likes to spend some time out with the guys for a nightcap or something, whatever the men at the BAU enjoy when there is no case. And that means, your boyfriend is busy getting ready to go out as well. Although Spencer has never forgotten a thing in his life—even when he is on the brink of life and death—you do not want to stress him out even more by asking him what you think you have forgotten to prepare.

So, today when you were running around the house like a madman trying to collect the stuff you need to bring to Garcia’s for girls' night, you have no one else to blame but yourself. You have depended on your boyfriend to remember stuff for you that you always leave the preparation at the very last minute. At the moment, you believe you’ve never hated yourself as much as you did now, which is quite the feat considering that you’ve hated yourself a lot before for chickening out on confessing your feelings to boy wonder—your boyfriend, Spencer Reid—only to find out he shares the same feelings.

Scratch that, you hate your boyfriend right now more than you hate yourself.

Currently, that same boyfriend has been snickering nonstop at you dashing left and right and gathering the things you need to bring. Face masks? Check. Wine? Check. What else were you forgetting?

“You know, there’s this study that says only 82% of people have a time management system.” 

Your ever-loving boyfriend, Spencer, decided to share. You were about to chuck the throw pillow at him because you could hear the I told you so in his voice, but you knew his fact-sharing and nagging was his unique way of saying, “I love you, but you could’ve remedied this problem by preparing the stuff you’ll need the night before.”

“No, I don’t, Spence. But, do tell.” 

At this point, you’re pretty sure Spencer was sporting a shit-eating grin and was probably holding in a laugh at the strain in your voice from recalling whether you’ve got everything so you can head over to Garcia’s. You’re pretty sure Garcia is about to talk your ear off if you’re running late. You missed out on the last girls' night after you bailed on them, wanting to spend the night with Spencer, watching Star Wars, and eating takeout.

“There's a survey done recently which revealed that 90% of people say better time management can lead to increased productivity.” Spencer started explaining, hands waving around as if to demonstrate the numbers in front of him. “However, only 18% of people have a proper time management system.”

“And?” 

“Well, it just reminded me of you.” Spencer pursed his lips now, as he tried to explain his thoughts without annoying you. “If you just had a proper time management system like a to-do list or a planner. You could save at least..” He stared at his watch and did the math, “You could save at least one hour and forty-three minutes of your time instead of panicking over whether you got all the things you need for girls' night.”

“I don’t need that when I have you. Don’t you think so?”

This made your boyfriend blush, and you giggled, heading towards his direction, so you could wrap your hands around his waist and bury your face into his chest. You were the luckiest person alive for getting to date someone as wonderful as Spencer.

What you just said would not have made anyone flush and nervous, but Spencer was different. You knew he’s never been in a formal relationship with anyone before you. Thus, from time to time, he still gets embarrassed by your antics which you’ll always be endeared by. You live to see your boyfriend getting flustered because it gives you a reason to shower him with affection like now.

“I love you too, Spence.”

You looked up at your boyfriend, who looked like he was about to burst from your directness. You and he may deal with a lot of blood and gore during work, but he can be the most fainthearted person alive when it came to your affections.

“B-but I didn’t say I love you..” He trailed off, confused as to why you were suddenly proclaiming your love for him. You grinned even more as you pinched the tip of his nose.

“You didn’t have to, Spence. I know your nagging is one way of you saying you love me, and I love you for that.” 

Spencer scrunched his nose and rubbed the back of his neck out of shyness. If you could keep him in your pocket for safekeeping, you would. He’s just too precious for this world.

“But, as much as I love you, I know just as much that Penelope will have my ass kicked by Emily if I get to her house late,” you broke free from your boyfriend’s comfy arms, checking the bags you packed while doing so. “I have to go, baby. I think I got everything I need.”

Picking up your bag and care package, you ruffled your boyfriend’s brown locks, which made him frown a bit and sigh. You snickered at his reaction and proceeded to walk towards the front door. You were about to reach the staircase just outside your shared apartment when you realized something. 

You forgot your car keys.

Berating yourself in your head, you were certain once you entered that door, Spencer would be on your case like a mother duck. He can be too fretful when it comes to you. Oh well, that is one thing you love about him. Huffing, you slowly turned the doorknob and found Spencer leaning on the wall just inside the door with his arms crossed, looking at you smugly. You rolled your eyes.

One thing about Spencer Reid is he can be a cocky little shit when proven right. And that happens most—if not all—the time, with his IQ of 187 and eidetic memory. Unfortunately for him, he also happened to date a cocky little shit—you—who likes to fluster the living lights out of him. And right now, you just thought of the perfect way to get back at him.

But first, your car keys. Spencer next.

Once you have retrieved the pesky item—like it’s the car keys’ fault, you forgot to get them—you turned towards the door, not paying any attention to your boyfriend, who was already cracking up at you. Only when you’ve reached the door, your back towards Spencer, did you smirk. Oh, he’ll never know what’s coming to him. You did a U-turn and 

“Forgot something, sweetheart?”

“Why, yes I did, Dr. Reid,” you stated plainly, beelining towards him, making him take a few steps back until he ended up with his back against the wall. He's so easy to fluster. "I forgot to do this."

You slanted your head and pressed your lips against his. Your bodies were snug against each other as you kissed heatedly against the wall. You could feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks as he parted his lips slightly to kiss you deeper. You could taste your shared breath, smell his faint perfume, and feel the slight scruff of a stubble about to show up. Warmth blossomed in your chest when you felt Spencer caress your face as if you were fine porcelain.

Kissing Spencer Reid never gets old in your books. Despite his lack of romantic experience and being the eager researcher that he was, Spencer was an eager lover—he would kiss you every chance he'd get to know how to please you, which paid off, by the way. This may be a biased opinion but you think the best kisses you have shared were with Spencer.

However, like all good things, kissing Spencer has to end, or Garcia will have you banned from her house for running late.

You pulled away from Spencer and grinned at him, to which he returned with a stunned smile. You chuckled when you noticed your lipstick smudged on the corner of his lips and brushed a finger to erase it. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to be the subject of Morgan's teasing once they're together after this. Noticing the daze your boyfriend is under is about to wear off, and he was about to say something, you beat him to it by pressing a smooch on his nose and pulling away completely. 

"I gotta go, Dr. Reid. Don't miss me too much!"

You scampered towards the door and shot a wink at your bewildered boyfriend—who was now sputtering in indignation for interrupting what he was about to say. He is so cute.

[jungwnies]

TIKTOK TREND WITH YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND | "we listen and we don't judge"

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : "we listen and we don't judge" trend

୨ৎ : genre : humor, angsty only if you squint ୨ৎ : tws : light teasing, SLIGHTLY suggestive for lewis and charles ୨ৎ : word count : 3255

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : race weekend !! can't believe lewis is finally breaking up with mercedes :'(

ʚ・max verstappen

you and max were sprawled on the couch after dinner, scrolling through your phone, you came across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and turned to max with a mischievous grin.

“max, we’re doing something,” you announced, setting your phone down.

he raised an eyebrow. “what now?”

“it’s this trend. i’ll say ‘we listen and we don’t judge,’ and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve kept from me. then it’s my turn. we go back and forth, no getting mad. deal?”

he smirked, clearly intrigued. “sounds dangerous. but alright, i’m in.”

you grinned. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge.”

max leaned back, rubbing his chin like he was deep in thought. “alright... sometimes, when you’re not around, i watch rom-coms. and yes, i cry a little.”

your jaw dropped, and you smacked his arm lightly. “you cry? you don’t even tear up during sad movies with me!”

“no judging!” he reminded you, laughing. “your turn.”

you sighed, biting back a smile. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i say i’m folding laundry, i’m actually just lying on the bed scrolling on my phone.”

max blinked, a laugh bubbling out of him. “seriously? i knew it took you way too long to fold a few shirts!”

“no judging!” you shot back, grinning. “your turn.”

he grinned, leaning in a little. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i told you i’d stop eating stroopwafels late at night, but i have a secret stash in the garage.”

you gasped dramatically. “the garage? max!”

“you said no judging,” he said smugly. “your turn.”

you rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… remember when your favorite hoodie ‘got lost’? i actually stole it, and it’s hidden in my closet.”

his eyes narrowed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. “so that’s where it went! i’ve been looking for it for months!”

“it’s comfy!” you defended. “last one, your turn.”

max smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… when i say i’m working late at the simulator, half the time i’m just watching motorsport documentaries.”

you stared at him, stunned. “max!”

he laughed, throwing an arm around you. “hey, at least i’m consistent. no judging, remember?”

“fine,” you muttered, shaking your head but smiling. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

ʚ・lewis hamilton

it was a rare, lazy afternoon at home with lewis, the two of you stretched out on the couch with no obligations for the day. you were scrolling through your phone when a trending couples game caught your attention. immediately, you knew lewis would make this hilarious.

“lewis,” you said, nudging his arm.

he turned to you, smirking. “what is it now?”

“we’re playing a game. it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ i’ll say that, and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve been hiding. then it’s my turn. but no getting mad.”

his smirk deepened, clearly intrigued. “no getting mad? sounds like this might end in trouble.”

“just go with it,” you said, grinning. “you’re up first. we listen, and we don’t judge.”

he leaned back, tapping his chin like he was debating the perfect confession. “alright… we listen, and we don’t judge. i once borrowed your face cream, and now i’m low-key addicted to your skincare routine.”

you blinked at him, your jaw dropping. “you’re the reason i keep running out so fast?”

he grinned sheepishly. “your stuff’s top tier. what can i say?”

“unbelievable.” you shook your head, but you couldn’t stop laughing. “fine, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge... i sometimes hide the remote under the couch cushion when you won’t stop flipping channels.”

his mouth fell open in mock shock. “that’s why i can never find it?!”

“no judging!” you reminded him, biting back a laugh.

“alright, alright,” he said, sitting up straighter. “we listen, and we don’t judge... when i say i’m texting toto, sometimes i’m actually looking at old pictures of roscoe.”

you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “roscoe’s been getting all the attention while i’ve been sitting here, huh?”

“he’s my boy,” lewis said with a shrug, a proud grin on his face. “your turn.”

you smirked, thinking for a moment. “we listen, and we don’t judge... i may or may not have eaten the last slice of cake and blamed it on you forgetting it in the fridge.”

he pointed at you, his eyes wide. “you did that? i thought i was losing my mind!”

“no judging!” you said, giggling.

“fine,” he said, shaking his head but laughing. “last one. we listen, and we don’t judge... i keep your voice notes on my phone and listen to them when—”

before he could finish, you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “lewis!”

he was already cracking up, raising his hands in surrender. “you said no judging!”

“and you’re breaking the rules of decency!” you shot back, hitting him again as he laughed harder.

he eventually grabbed the pillow from you, pulling you into his lap. “you’re lucky i love you. even if you ate my cake.”

“you’re lucky i love you,” you teased back, resting your forehead against his. “even if roscoe gets all your attention.”

ʚ・george russell

it was one of those chill evenings at home, where neither of you had any pressing plans. george was scrolling through his phone, half paying attention to whatever was on tv, when you suddenly sat up with a mischievous grin.

“george,” you started, already giggling.

he glanced over, instantly suspicious. “what have i done now?”

“nothing… yet. but we’re playing a game,” you said. “it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ we take turns confessing random, stupid things, and the other person can’t get mad or judge.”

he narrowed his eyes, clearly trying not to laugh. “this sounds like a trap.”

“it’s not a trap!” you promised. “come on, i’ll start. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re out, i play f1 23 just so i can crash your car and watch it fly into the barriers.”

his jaw dropped. “my car?! my poor car! how could you?”

“no judging!” you reminded him, grinning. “your turn.”

he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “alright, fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… once, when you were in the shower, i tried on your slippers, and honestly? i get why you love them so much. they’re so soft.”

you stared at him, stunned, before bursting into laughter. “you mean to tell me you’ve been walking around in my fluffy bunny slippers?”

“not walking,” he said defensively. “just… trying them on.”

“sure,” you said, still laughing. “okay, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge… one time, i accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the wash and blamed it on the dryer.”

george’s eyes went wide. “that was you?! i thought i’d bulked up!”

“no judging!” you said quickly, holding back another laugh. “your turn.”

he leaned back, a mischievous grin on his face. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re asleep, i watch those weird, satisfying carpet-cleaning videos on youtube.”

you blinked at him, trying not to laugh. “you’re telling me you’re out here binge-watching carpet scrubbing at 2 a.m.?”

“they’re oddly relaxing!” he said with mock indignation. “your turn.”

you smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i stole one of your racing socks once because i couldn’t find mine, and i still have it.”

“oh, so that’s why i’ve been missing one sock this whole time!” he said, pointing at you dramatically.

“you weren’t supposed to notice!”

george laughed, pulling you into his arms. “this game is wild, but now i’m going to look at my socks, slippers, and sweaters very differently. also, we’re getting you your own racing socks.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

it was one of those laid-back evenings, the two of you lounging on the couch, tiktok videos filling the quiet air between laughs. carlos had his phone propped up on the armrest, both of you scrolling through videos. when you came across one of those “we listen and we don’t judge” videos, your eyes lit up.

“we should do that,” you said, grinning at him.

carlos raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “tú y yo? (you and me?) i don’t know… are you sure you’re ready for my confessions?”

you crossed your arms and smirked. “oh, please. i bet you have nothing on me.”

“alright then,” he said, locking his phone and turning fully toward you. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you ask me to fix something around the house, i pretend i don’t know how so you’ll do it.”

you stared at him, wide-eyed. “carlos! you’ve been faking it?”

“no judging!” he said, smirking back at you, completely unfazed. “your turn.”

you shook your head in disbelief but couldn’t help but laugh. “fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once took a picture of your car keys just so i could send it to you and pretend i had your keys when i’d lost mine.”

his eyes widened. “wait, so you’ve been using my keys to trick me into thinking you didn’t lose yours?!”

“yeah, well… no judging!” you said, grinning.

carlos leaned back, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you get me to help you clean, i do half the work and then take a break to watch racing highlights on my phone.”

you stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. “you’re literally cleaning with one hand and watching f1 with the other?”

“isn’t that multitasking?” he said, shrugging with a teasing grin. “your turn.”

you rolled your eyes, but your lips couldn’t stop smiling. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been secretly eating your chocolate stash. and no, i don’t plan to stop.”

carlos leaned toward you, pretending to be shocked. “¿qué? (what?) you’ve been stealing my chocolate? that’s it, i’m hiding it next time!”

you giggled, shrugging innocently. “no judging!”

carlos pulled you closer, laughing softly. “alright, alright. you’ve won this round, but next time, i’m keeping my keys—and my chocolate—locked up.”

you smirked, resting your head on his shoulder. “no judgment, remember?”

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was sitting at the piano, playing casually, while you were scrolling through tiktok. you stumbled across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and couldn't resist showing him.

“amour, look at this. we should try it.”

he looked up from the keys, a playful grin on his face. “what is it? another tiktok trend i’ll regret?”

you showed him the video. “it’s a confession game. we take turns sharing things we’ve kept secret, and the other person can’t judge. we listen and we don’t judge.”

he raised an eyebrow. “you know i’m already regretting this, right mon amour?”

you laughed. “don’t be dramatic. we listen and we don’t judge.”

“alright, alright,” he said, stretching. “i'll go first…we listen, and we don’t judge… i used all your shampoo in the shower once, and when i realized it was nearly empty, i just told you it was already like that, so i threw it out while i was cleaning.”

you blinked, looking surprised. “charles! and you didn't even buy more!”

charles laughed. “at least i put it in the recycling, right?”

“no judgment…i guess." you chuckled, shaking your head. "alright, your my. but i’m keeping track of this, and i'm checking how much shampoo is left every time i get in the shower!”

you take a deep breath before giving him a cheeky grin, “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… when i told you i knew how to cook that fancy dinner, i was actually watching youtube tutorials the whole time. i burnt it twice, so i just pretended i forgot and ordered something instead.”

charles burst out laughing. “i knew it! it tasted too good to be true. so, you’ve been secretly lying to me this whole time?”

you shrugged innocently. “we listen, we don’t judge.”

he raised his hands in surrender. “fine, no judgment.”

then, he leaned in a little closer, his grin turning slightly mischievous. “okay, last one, but don’t judge, alright amour? i… sometimes fantasize about you in that dress you wore the other night… and how it’d look when you—”

“shut up, charles!” you cut him off, quickly throwing a pillow at him. “don’t say that out loud!”

charles just laughed harder, hands up in defense. “what? you said we listen and we don’t judge!”

“i didn’t say you could be that honest!” you shot back, laughing as you tried to grab the pillow back.

he grabbed it first, pulling you closer and holding you in his arms. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you’re stealing my shampoo.”

you grinned, leaning your forehead against his. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you make me blush with your terrible flirting.”

charles winked. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

ʚ・lando norris

you and lando were sprawled on the couch, both scrolling through tiktok when you came across the “we listen and we don’t judge” trend. you smirked, nudging him.

“hey, this looks fun. we should do it,” you said.

lando glanced at the screen, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “oh, i’m so in. i’ve got a few things i’ve been meaning to get off my chest.”

you laughed, knowing this could get interesting. “alright, we listen, and we don’t judge.”

lando immediately sat up straighter, ready to spill. “okay, okay. i’ve got one. we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been telling you i’m really good at making spaghetti, but the truth is, i just pour sauce over it and hope for the best. i don’t actually know how to cook it properly.”

you stared at him. “wait, you’ve been lying about being a chef this whole time?”

lando shrugs, looking way too proud of himself. “hey, it works. you still like it, don’t you?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “i don’t even know what to say to that. you’re like a pasta fraud.”

he leaned back, looking smug. “i’ve never been caught, so it’s all good.”

��alright, my turn,” you said, smirking. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i once accidentally ate all your leftover pizza and just left the box in the fridge like nothing happened. i thought you wouldn’t notice.”

lando’s eyes widened. “noooooo, you didn’t! you ate the pizza and didn’t even say anything?”

you nodded, trying not to laugh. “yep. i was hungry.”

he rubbed his temples. “this is worse than the spaghetti. at least i knew what i was doing with that!”

“hey, we don’t judge,” you shot back.

lando paused, looking like he was trying to think of something equally embarrassing to share. “alright, alright. this one’s a good one. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i’m on facetime with you, i don’t really pay attention. i just let you talk while i’m scrolling through instagram or playing games. but i’m good at pretending like i’m listening.”

you stared at him, wide-eyed. “what? no way. so all those times i thought you were listening to me, you were just—what? ignoring me?”

he winced, shrugging. “i mean, yeah. but i still love you, i promise! i’m just multitasking.”

“lando!” you threw a pillow at him. “i can’t believe you! that’s a whole new level of rude.”

he ducked, still laughing. “we listen, and we don’t judge!”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, well, i’m judging. big time.”

then you paused, smirking. “fine. one more. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once tried to sneakily eat all your chocolate bars, but i was so obvious about it that you caught me before i even finished.”

lando couldn’t help but laugh. “what?! you didn’t even hide it well?”

you shrugged. “i panicked, okay? i thought i could get away with it.”

“i can’t with you,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re lucky i love you, even though you’re a snack thief and a liar.”

you grinned. “i’m lucky you love me, even though you can’t even cook spaghetti properly.”

he smirked. “you’re lucky i still cook for you, pizza thief.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

you and oscar were curled up on the sofa in your shared apartment, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok. a video popped up showcasing the "we listen and we don't judge" trend, and you nudged oscar with your elbow.

"hey, this looks fun," you said, grinning. "we should do it."

oscar, his eyes still glued to his phone, shrugged. "sure, why not?" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "though i can't imagine having any confessions that are that scandalous."

"oh, you'd be surprised," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "everyone has secrets, oscar."

he chuckled, finally tearing his gaze away from the screen. "alright, let's do it. we listen, and we don't judge."

you took a deep breath, a mischievous glint in your eye. "okay, here goes. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have 'accidentally' shrunk your favorite mclaren hoodie in the wash. like, significantly."

oscar's eyes widened in horror. "you what?!" he exclaimed, leaping off the couch to inspect the damage. "not the hoodie with the papaya stripe! that was vintage!"

you winced, trying to hide your amusement. "it was an accident! i swear! i must have mixed up the settings on the washing machine."

he held up the shrunken garment, now more suitable for a toddler than a formula 1 driver. "y/n, this looks like something a chihuahua would wear!"

you burst out laughing. "okay, okay, i messed up. but hey, maybe it'll make a comeback as a crop top?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

oscar sighed, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "alright, alright. my turn. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have accidentally reversed your car into the mailbox last week."

your jaw dropped. "what?! the mailbox that's now leaning at a 45-degree angle? that was you?!"

he cringed. "yeah, about that… i was in a bit of a rush, and i may have misjudged the distance."

"misjudged the distance?" you repeated incredulously. "oscar, you're a formula 1 driver! you judge distances for a living!"

he shrugged sheepishly. "everyone makes mistakes, okay? besides, it's not like i crashed an actual race car."

you shook your head, still in disbelief. "this is unbelievable. what's next, are you going to admit you can't actually cook?"

oscar's eyes widened, and he quickly changed the subject. "okay, your turn! let's hear another confession."

you smirked, knowing you had him on the ropes. "alright, fine. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have pretended to like your favorite band just to impress you when we first started dating."

he gasped dramatically. "you mean you don't actually enjoy listening to that obscure australian rock band?"

you cringed. "okay, maybe 'enjoy' is a strong word. but i've grown to appreciate them… sort of."

oscar burst out laughing. "this is too good! i can't believe you've been faking it this whole time!"

you playfully punched his arm. "hey, at least i tried! besides, it's not like you haven't exaggerated your cooking skills."

he grinned, pulling you closer. "touché. well, i guess we're both full of surprises."

you snuggled into his side, still chuckling. "yeah, i guess we are. but hey, at least we can be honest with each other, right?"

"absolutely," he agreed, kissing your forehead. "we listen, and we don't judge… mostly."

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[rafesangelita]

♡ ࣪when a movie night with your best friend ends with you and rafe naked underneath your blankets..

warnings: bsf!rafe, fluff, cuddling, sexual tension, reader is a little bold in this one, heavy petting, tit play, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m. & f. receiving), face sitting, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, biting, finger sucking, size kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms

a/n: movie night dates are my fav <3

wc: 2.3k

“they have the whole twilight series on here..” rafe looked away from your tv, and at your bare legs as you stepped out of your bathroom, a pair of sleep shorts and one of his t-shirts adorning your body. “oooh, put it on!” you joined rafe under the covers, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. anyone from the outside would’ve looked at you and rafe and thought you two were a little too close to be best friends, and while they might be right, you and rafe loved being close like this.

“i’m surprised you’re wearing a sweatshirt,” you tugged at the soft material, “i like it.” rafe looked down at you, the corner of his lips quirking. “yeah?” he pulled you closer, his large palm splaying across your lower back. you hummed breathing in his cologne. he was so warm and just so big, you couldn’t help but snuggle into him more. the movie started playing, the soundtrack playing softly in the background as you two fell into a comfortable silence.

“these are the movies you watch strictly for the vibes, because the acting is terrible.” you gasped at rafe’s words, unintentionally moving against his front side. he cursed under his breath, backing away slightly so you couldn’t feel his hardening cock through his sweatpants. “it’s not that bad.” you giggled, backing up on him which only made rafe shut his eyes. he was trying his hardest to keep his cool right now, but with the way your shorts rode up past the curves of your ass, it was nearly impossible.

rafe was growing fidgety, his movements not going unnoticed by you. “are you okay?” you turned around, his cheeks flushed pink as a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin. “yeah— yes, i’m just uhm.. i’m burning up in this sweatshirt.” you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your fingers dancing along the hem of his shirt. “so take it off.” rafe swallowed thickly, feeling your nails graze just above his v-line. “what?” he laughed nervously, waiting for you to say you were kidding. “..take it off.” you repeated, watching the way rafe’s chest rose up and down with every breath.

even though you two constantly teetered the edge of what friends did and didn’t do, rafe always made sure to never cross the line.. unless you wanted to, of course. “a-are you sure?” rafe was already going through a mental battle, his jaw ticking when you took it upon yourself to pull his sweatshirt over his head. tonguing his cheek, you and rafe shared a glance before you averted your attention back to the tv. “can you hold me?” rafe knew he couldn’t say no to you, nor did he want to.

letting you rest your head on his bicep, he pulled you against his chest, his hand slipping under your, his, t-shirt. it was hard to focus with his hand on your tummy, his hard-on nestled between your cheeks while his breath fanned the back of your neck. you only lasted ten minutes like this, your hips moving on their own accord as rafe trailed his hand further up your torso. he froze when he felt the swells of your breasts against his thumb, a curse leaving his lips as he whispered in your ear.

“you’re fuckin’ killing me right now.” he groaned, taking one of your tits in his hand. you arched into him, reaching behind you to palm him through his pants. resting his head in the curve of your neck, rafe licked a stripe up against your skin, his tongue running over the sensitive spot of your flesh. you moaned, the sound making his cock stir. you’ve wanted rafe like this for so long, you couldn’t believe he was finally touching you the way you’ve wanted for so long.

craning your neck so you could see his face, you continued stroking him through his pants, his lips finding yours before he slipped his freehand under the waistband of your shorts. “no panties either? fuck, you were just begging for this cock weren’t you?” you whimpered a ‘mhmmm’, before you felt his middle and ring fingers dip between your folds. “what the fuck? you’re soaked..” he grazed your clit, your body jolting in pure unadulterated pleasure.

“when did that happen, huh? was it when you took my shirt off?” rafe slid his fingers down to your entrance, gathering the pool of wetness there before gliding his digits back up to your sensitive bundle of nerves, “or was it when you got under the covers and put your ass where i needed you most?” he whispered the last part, admiring the way your eyebrows knitted together in desperation, your lips glossy with his spit.

“please, i need you so bad, ray!” you cried, refraining from whining when he took his hand out of your shorts. bringing his digits up to your lips, you welcomed them in your mouth where rafe watched you suck your sweetness off of them. “you’re such a fuckin’ whore, i didn’t even need to ask you to do that.” he watched with a dark gaze, your tongue swirling around his fingers and sucking them as if it was something else. “you look so pretty when you’re cock hungry..” rafe teased, pulling away from you to take his sweats off.

you got on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed where rafe stood fully naked. he was so hard, your mouth practically watered when he pulled you closer to him by your chin. “can i please taste you?” you gazed up at him with those watery eyes as he threaded his fingers through your hair. “oh, how sweet of you for asking,” he tugged at the hair on your scalp, his cock just centimeters away from your face, “do whatever you want with it, ‘pretty. it’s yours.”

you gave him that smile that made him fall in love with you all those months ago before licking a stripe up from the underside of his length, lapping up the pre cum that managed to dribble down his cock. rafe was mesmerized as he watched you, your pretty eyes never leaving his as you managed to wrap your lips around his sensitive tip. he was so big compared to you, he worried about how you’d be able to take it all. slowly, you kept lowering yourself until he bottomed out in your throat, the man above you in complete awe.

rafe was turned on beyond belief, the urge to just wrap his fists in your hair and fuck your face until you’re choking on it made him feral. you stilled, swallowing around him until he had to pull you off. “are you fucking with me right now? you want me to cum inside your mouth that bad?” he squeezed your cheeks together, landing a harsh smack to your ass. you yelped, nodding frantically as he pulled his t-shirt off of your body. with your tits now on full display, rafe balled your hair up and lowered you down onto his cock again.

you doubled over, your back arching as he thrusted into your mouth at an unforgiving speed. the sounds coming from between your lips were nothing short of obscene, heavy tears now rolling down your cheeks. rafe couldn’t formulate a single thought, his brain empty as he reveled in the feeling of your throat taking his cock. he fantasized about this for so many nights, wanting nothing more than to have you at his mercy and letting him take you however he wanted. fuck, he just knew you’d let him too. his pretty little best friend finally taking his cock, he could just cum at the thought.

as if rafe was brought back to earth from floating on cloud nine, he groaned when the band in his stomach snapped, his high washing over him in waves of pure ecstasy. his cum shot down your throat, the thick white ropes painting your tongue as his thrusts grew sloppy, his hold on your hair loosening as he let out a string of curses. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..” rafe lost himself like never before, a hiss leaving his lips as you kept bobbing your head, desperate to take each drop.

“y/n—” he shuddered, pushing you away before you could keep going. overstimulated and out of breath, rafe pulled you up to look at your face. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t think i was going to finish that fast..” he was slightly embarrassed, but even more confused as you shook your head. “it’s okay!” you pecked his lips, batting your eyelashes at him as if he didn’t just cum in your mouth without permission. “where is it?” he cupped your cheeks, your mouth clean of any cum.

“what?” you whispered, equally as confused until rafe’s eyes widened in realization. “did you fuckin’ swallow it?” his thumbs hooked between your lips, opening your mouth to check for himself. he couldn’t put into words how bad he wanted you right now, the simple fact that you took what he gave you so eagerly made him tackle you back down on your sheets, his lips melting against yours in an instant. you welcomed him between your thighs, moaning in his mouth as he took your shorts off.

“sit on my face.” he rolled over, pulling you on top of him. you didn’t have any time to process what was happening before he pulled your thighs down on either sides of his head. rafe wasted no time, his tongue flicking between your folds. you gasped, scrambling to grip his arms as he dragged your hips across his mouth. “you taste amazing, holy fuck.” he circled your clit, sucking the sensitive bud before digging his fingers into your skin.

you cried out, eyes fluttering shut as you clenched around nothing. “f-feels so good, rafe!” the man beneath you moaned, his chest filling with pride as you writhed on top of him. despite his mouth working wonders on your soaked cunt, you felt so empty, wanting nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch of his cock. “need you inside, ray,” you looked down at him, “please fuck me.” grunting at your words, rafe gave you a nod.

standing up on shaky legs, rafe sat up against your headboard before pulling you back down on his lap. “wait— i don’t have any condoms.” rafe was panting, his lips glistening with your slick. “so?” you kissed him, grinding helplessly on his cock. “you’re okay with that? if i don’t use one?” you hummed, trailing kissing across his toned chest. “fuck— okay, baby.” rafe wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up as you reached down and lined him up with entrance. making sure you were looking at his face, rafe lowered you slowly, both of you moaning as you sunk down on his length.

you felt so warm and tight wrapped around him like this, both of you shuddering once he filled you to the hilt. “you okay?” his voice was gentle as he spoke to you, his fingers stroking your chin as you nodded. “yes, i just feel so full.” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “listen to me,” rafe started, “you’re not just my best friend after this. me and you? we’re together, alright?” you blinked, a smile gracing your features as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “really?” you felt giddy, your small laugh being cut short when he moved his hips.

“yes, really..” he trailed off, “i need you to know that i love and respect you, because the way i’m gonna fuck you right now? you just might forget.” you were about to question what he meant when he bear hugged you and started thrusting into you from below, your lips parting as a shriek ripped itself from your throat. “oh, fuck!” you rarely cursed, the word throwing rafe for a loop before he smirked to himself. “you cussing now, angel? is the dick that good?” you buried your face in his chest, unintentionally biting down on the flesh as his thighs smacked the bottoms of your ass.

rafe’s force was brutal, his tip kissing your cervix with every movement of his hips. “yes! yes, it’s so good!” you cried, holding onto him for dear life. “i’ve thought about doing this for so long,” he groaned, “just’ wanted you to be mine already.” rafe looked up at you as if you weren’t real, like you’d disappear into thin air if he didn’t hold you tight. he continued like this, leaving open mouth kisses between your neck and shoulder, your head knocking against the headboard.

“shit— sorry.” he laid you down, pinning your knees to your chest before slamming back into you again. nothing could top this, you were sure of it. with rafe pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, and his fingers now rubbing your clit, it wasn’t long before you were sobbing out, both you and rafe kissing each other as your orgasm hit you, quite literally stealing your breath away. rafe came twice, unaware that he could even do that within a fifteen minute time span.

your stomach caved in as you attempted to breathe, your heart beating in your ears as your back arched off of your sheets. “..rafe,” your voice just barely above a whisper before you gasped, the man on top of you cradling your head as he watched you come undone beneath him. you were crying, moaning hysterically as your high came over you, rendering you speechless while rafe marveled at the sight. “too much?” you nodded, rafe pulling out before shushing you with a peck to your lips.

you were still going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pulled the blanket over you two, both of you flushed against each other as he eased you down from your high. as if the moment couldn’t get any better with you shyly smiling at each other, the song ‘roslyn’ started playing from the movie, both of you stroking the other’s skin. “are we really together now, or were you just thinking with your other head?” rafe laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “no i meant it.” he traced the curve of your lips, admiring you until you fell asleep.

[synvil]

color in the lines // tattooed! rafe cameron

synopsis : rafe cameron finally lets you color in his tattoos.

“no way. why the fuck would I want that?”

that was pretty much along the lines of what rafe would respond with every time you asked to color in his tattoos.

every time he was shirtless, your eyes would trail over the inked sleeve of his to the covered backside and then to the marks on his collarbone area. nearly every time rafe was relaxing next to you, shirtless, you’d ask the same thing.

“please? lemme just do it one time, and it’ll wash off anyways!”

“no.”

it would be such a definitive answer, you were starting to lose hope and pretty much gave up.

that is, until one day.

rafe would come home, as per usual, when he notices you aren’t in the living room, waiting for him like always. “baby?”

he knows you’re home, you would’ve leave without texting him, so maybe you were asleep.

thus, he makes his way through the house until he sees the door to the bedroom shut and he opens it gently. “babe, you asleep?” only to be faced with your teary eyes and bundled up form. worry and confusion laces his eyes and he drops the plastic bag he was holding and rushes over. “sweetheart, what’s wrong? why are you crying?”

you sniffle and hug the pillow to your chest tightly and shake your head. “i don’t know.”

“huh?” he wasn’t sure if he heard you right. but you only cover your face with the plush pillow and frown. “i don’t know.. I’ve just been in this mood all day..”

rafe is pretty flabbergasted, absolutely appalled that you don’t even know what’s wrong and he sighs, at least feeling relief you weren’t hurt or anything. “what do you want to do?”

“nothing.. nothing makes me feel better.”

rafe rolls his eyes lightly as he stands, already knowing the right answer before he exhales softly and turns around. “i know that’s not true..” he mutters before he returns the discarded bag by the door and bends to pick it up. “good thing i stopped by the store.”

his hands reach inside and pulls out the box he had bought before walking over to you, seeing your saddened but curious eyes following him. “what’s that..?”

rafe holds out the box and you quietly reach for it, your brows furrowing when you see it’s washable markers.

“markers?”

but instead of verbally answering, rafe slides off his shirt, tossing it aside before sitting on the floor beside the bed and turning around so his tattooed back faces you.

“come on, have at it. just this once.”

your eyes light up as you try to contain the smile building on your lips. “really? you serious?”

rafe glances back, his eyes meeting yours as he smiled softly, despite his playful eye roll. “i’m only giving you one chance, baby.”

and when you squeal, sitting up and pulling out your first color, he chuckles and turns to face forward again.

“just make sure to color in the lines.”

a/n : more rafe fluff. i’m kinda running out of ideas whilst having a ton so if anyone has any ideas or suggestions, im open to writing blurbs!! :>

[reidsreblogs]

ahh this was such a cute read 😭 the subtle possessiveness had my heart fluttering 💕

Cardigan | S.R.

Summary: the cold AC in the building causes the reader to have a... bodily response, and Spencer is protective. Warnings: nipples? Word Count: 0.7k

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It was a hot, summer day for Virginia, whose climate often didn’t exceed the high 70s. Today it fell around an unusual 85, and the BAU was clearly not used to it. The AC was turned up to max cool in the office and although it felt nice, you had the occasional shiver spike down your spine.

You had chosen a short sleeve maroon colored top today, and it was on the tighter side. You always felt warmer with additional fabric, so you thought the figure-hugging top would cool you off. It certainly had done its job, but your lack of a jacket or cardigan had resulted in the amplification of a certain feature on your chest.

You had noticed, obviously, and shifted uncomfortably each time you saw them. That’s something women unfortunately are forced to think about. Additionally, not that you had to wear a bra, but you were wearing one, it just happened to be quite thin. Once again, your choice was determined by the temperature outside. You couldn't have guessed that the BAU would choose to have the AC on its fullest blast.

Luckily for you, you worked with professionals. Even if they noticed your compromised situation, it wasn't like anyone was going to say anything. Or even care all too much, for that matter. You decided to let it go, and continue your work. They were just nipples; everyone had them.

Spencer Reid felt differently about the situation. He had first noticed the fact that you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Then he noticed the occasional shivers on your bare arms. After that is when he caught sight of the small peaks protruding from your chest as a direct result of the chill air.

Spencer had blushed, despite having seen that area of your body with less clothing on than now. It felt uncomfortable for him to think about the intimate moments he shared with you whilst at the workplace. Further, he found himself feeling protective of you, as well as those precious moments. The thought of someone else merely considering these private parts of you left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

At first, Spencer observed the situation, not wanting to make a scene and embarrass you more than he could assume you already were. He would have lent you something to cover up with, but he too dressed minimally for the weather.

Spencer continued his work, occasionally sneaking a glance at you just to make sure you were still okay. As Spencer looked up once again, he noticed an intern walk through the bullpen. The intern was young; he must have been in his very early twenties. Spencer didn't recognize him and he assumed he must be from a different department.

Spencer blatantly observed the young male practically gawk and drool at your chest as he approached you. He stopped and began chatting with you about something Spencer could not see. The young genius could feel his face heat up with irritation and annoyance.

Spencer was steadily growing irate and he seriously considered giving you the shirt off his own back. Then he remembered -- he had a cardigan in his bottom desk drawer. He had put it in his drawer of miscellaneous items back in the winter. Just in case, he had recalled thinking. He mentally gave his past self kudos for remembering to leave it there.

He quickly unlocked the bottom drawer and snatched the tan, knitted cardigan from its depths and beelined to you.

"Hi darling," Spencer cooed, and draped the cardigan over your shoulders. He took it a step further and pulled either side of the article of clothing across your torso, covering your chest.

You were taken aback. Spencer was typically too shy to use pet names to refer to you, unless it was just the two of you. His assertiveness in covering the exposed part of you filled your body with a familiar warmth.

Spencer stared at the intern, his jaw clenched. The young man got the message and politely said goodbye to you.

You turned around in your rolling chair, evidently unwrapping yourself from Spencer's grasp.

"What," you began, blushing. "What was that?"

Spencer opened and closed his mouth. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he was bashful.

"I could tell you were uncomfortable earlier with your," he paused, "with your situation, and I just didn't like the way he was looking at you."

You smiled at your boyfriend, appreciating his thoughtfulness. He was right; you had been uncomfortable, and you cherished his ability to notice these intricacies. You pulled the warm cardigan across your chest again, like Spencer had done moments ago.

"Thank you."

"Yeah," Spencer murmured meekly, "anytime."