#I kept having to think of stuff even as I wrote this like. It is a good comic but I just want ppl to be prepared for More Heavy Stuff than
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
dailyjasontodd · 1 day ago
Note
mods, what would YOU guys have liked to see from a Jason Lives AU? Where he still become red hood? Where he (temp or not) retires? I've been thinking about it a lot
I wrote this on my personal blog years and years ago and some of the things i would like to see are
his relationship with Bruce still becoming strained. death or not i think they had some issues to sort through and they both need help AND more importantly they need proper development they were never truly given in canon. the canon jason lives au sorta started strongly in that regard (and kept it strong until the end tbh, it was everything else that was fucked up) but well.
While i do think retiring from Robin for a bit would be good for Jason i hate HATE when people just turn him into a civilian and do the whole twitter-esque "he can help more outside of being a vigilante!!!". like its a bad idea for bruce, and its a bad idea for jason sorry. i think he would try to give it a try, focus on being Jason Todd, and finding out who he is outside of Robin and outside of the expectations for him and not needing to be on constant survival mode, but ultimately i think he would become another vigilante anyways. maybe return to robin. maybe something new. idc.
(in my old blog i said i liked him becoming Red Robin, and designing a new suit with the help of Bruce and Dick since he was never given his own Robin design during his original run, and not only does he deserve it but its very symbolic that he really was running around in dick's hand me downs for years. but it would be fun if he got a completely new name too, a few years ago Cardinal was very popular but my birds knowledge has become very rusty.. i remember also liking Shrike)
people might not like this idea but i do like him somewhat following up Dick's steps and forming his own little team too, especially because he lacked a strong support system outside of Bruce, you know? Dick had the titans when he left, Jason never had anyone but a friend here and there that were vaguely mentioned and not fleshed out. So i think a good step forward for Jason would be to have his own team (my usual pick is eddie / rose / connor sorry not sorry #mytitans but i'm also down for ocs, i've made a few of those too lmao)
I really think regardless of him living he would still think some people deserve nothing but death. Maybe he wouldn’t straight up kill people, but there’s a fat chance there’s times when he didn’t do “everything” he could to save some people who didn’t deserve it and i think he would still argue with bruce about it and i even like the idea of his own team having that argument as well, love the idea of connor carrying the duty of being their moral compass over there at times
that's some specific stuff i would love for a jason lives au. my vague wishes are
let him live
don't torture him
dont make him suffer anymore
dont turn him into a villain
-🐅
92 notes · View notes
corpsentry · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pick your battles
#my art#my stuff#art#comic#original art#pride 2024#pride month#trans allegory..... or not even allegory. just trans .... ^_^#i technically cannot come out yet but i don't think the people who i need to not see this stalk my tumblr#i know they stalk everything else like my twitter and my instagram but this might be safe#so fuck it we yap. this is a comic about picking your battles#this is a comic about how for almost a year now everyone at home in singapore has been crying about my sore throat#my terrible fucked up voice. my you know. etc#i came out as not cis and using they/them pronouns in 2015 when i was 14#but no one ever used my pronouns. none of my classmates or friends even up until i left for college in 2020#from 2020 onwards every year i wrote an angry vulnreable essay about how much it hurts that they dont remember#and people would dm me apologizing on their hands and knees and commending my bravery#and then forget about it all over again. id ont mean 'they misgender me and then catch it and apologize and correct themselves'#i mean they dont even get that far#and so you might ask yourself: why have you kept them around all this time?#and i would have to explain that by pure bad luck i grew up in the most conservative close minded community#that all of my ex classmates that stayed in singapore are cishet and upper middle class and chinese singaporean#that i Am the trans person. that they were able to ignore me for a decade partially because there was no one else#so this is a comic about how there is dignity and grace in staying in the closet sometimes#about how not everyone deserves to see you at your happiest. about how some people can go fuck themselves#you know your truth and THATS THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS!!! YEAH!!! i love you
1K notes · View notes
dunadaan · 6 months ago
Text
I’ve been feeling Créa creep up on me as of late and today I went back and reread my little document where I type up random ideas for scenes/fics and I was like. Wow who wrote this. This is really good. Why isn’t there more of this damn. But also wow I really put miss créa through the blender and she is a fine red mist a lot. But that is the life of a ranger…and even when she’s not a ranger anymore I press blend on high and she is sadly used to that
#(I forgot what made me think of it but I had this fantastic idea post war where Créa has tried to keep herself together)#(and it’s one specific incident that really makes her crack- I wrote a really compelling idea of her having PTSD and it unexpectedly)#(manifesting in a place where she didn’t anticipate it. and ofc it’s medieval medicine so they don’t know what PTSD is exactly but they)#(not like we know ptsd anyways. so it’s a really interesting exploration of grief and suppression and dealing with it- or not dealing with)#(it in this case. bc she’s avoided it for years and she’s like. god I fucking miss being a ranger so much. that was ME.)#(now I’m not a ranger anymore and I lost my entire identity)#(she can’t return to Evendim for a long time and desperately misses it. most of her friends are dead)#(or gone up north or treat her differently)#(she feels really isolated and alone even though she’s aware she’s not but it’s a lot to deal with!!! and I didn’t quite have an ending)#(but it was really compelling and I need to return to it one day)#(the other one I wrote ideas for and wrote a small scene was crea’s first experience meeting rangers)#(back when the angle was new. sighs. the potential…crea interacting with and learning ranger culture for the first time)#(after being alienated and kept away not of her own will. and her having a scene with faeron and standing on the bridge with him)#(but also of her thinking of what her life might’ve been like had she not been lied to about her heritage or had it hidden)#(she’s at a huge disadvantage-she barely knows dúnedain/elf history or sindarin etc. she could’ve had a whole different life)#(and AGAIN the theme of GRIEF- grieving smth that was kept from you. a life you’ll never have but could’ve)#(anyways. that probably all could’ve been in a post LOL and not in tags)#(but yeah damn!!! I was writing some good stuff!!!)#(now I wanna replay all the LOTRO areas again..)
4 notes · View notes
lucienne-thee-librarian · 1 year ago
Note
thanks for all the sandman recs, i most definitely will check them out! post has replies turned off :') but i still feel like thanking you :D
Im sorry I didn't mean to turn the replies off I don't even know how I did it wtf 🤣 that's sweet of you, I'm happy to help, as someone who read Sandman first I always like it when more people read the comics! I think you'll find the show so far has been an excellent adaptation (Death 10/10, the cast was all incredible...) ...tho fair warning, it is definitely a 90s EdgyTM horror comic as well as fantasy in places and those elements were somewhat toned down for the show. For instance, 24 Hours is most definitely worse in the comics and the Calliope issue (which comes as the first issue in Volume 3, Dream Country, after Doll's House) is a little more explicit/graphic than the show ever was. Also Desire and Unity's child while made to be from an actual relationship in the show was. Hmm. Not that in the comics. It's nothing graphic just alluded to, but the magical no-touch pregnancy was very much not something Unity chose initially or even knew about until later. The show thankfully changed this but it's something to be aware of. Also the serial convention part has an attempted rape. And later in Fables and Reflections Volume 6 there is some brief child abuse and incest.
If that's something you can handle, whatever but I think it's best to go in with fair expectations. I don't know how old you are or what your tastes/triggers/comfort levels are so I figure it's best to be upfront before you start.
3 notes · View notes
just-spacetrash · 1 year ago
Text
🫥
#brain ran out of wwdits hype juoce and now i am profoundly sad#it is just cause its late but man....😔#I'm thinking about my shit 20th birthday#sent a 'hey its my bday does anyone wanna go for drinks' text to the gc (sweating hands shaking almost passed out muted my phone for 8hrs)#and then everyone came and talked about their own relationship/mental health issues for like max 3hrs and then went home#and last week my best friend had her 20th bday#and the other friends had like. baked a cake gotten her gifts wrote cards#and like i know im not as close w the other ones as my bff is#but man it did sting a lot#at one point one of em said like 'we did all this because we care about you we wouldnt do it if we didnt care'#and ngl i almost cried then and there#but yea kept it together didnt say anything didnt ruin my bffs bday#and the rest of the party was rly fun#but it just#i wish i had friends like that#and ik im not like. like i dont know how to talk n stuff ik im not as easy to be friends with i know im super anxious n awkward like always#but like#u didnt have to say the whole 'we wouldnt do this if we didnt care'#on my birthday i cried from like 3am to 6am and then pulled myself together and went to a hotel breakfast w no sleep#and like. didnt even feel like shit in the morning so it turned out ok in the end i guess#but looking back it was kind of. fucked up#but yea even the fact that im thinking about it now means i should just go to sleep probably#or i guess i didnt ever rly process it but still#lets hope writing this to my diary (the internet where everyone can see it)#releases some of the pent up. stuff#yeaj#my post#vent#rant#whichever it is
4 notes · View notes
wild-at-mind · 2 years ago
Text
TW abuse talk
Hey, remember that era of tumblr when it was completely acceptable and social justice-y to say: let us describe our perfect gay trans nonbinary world which we were going to build, our utopia. What would we do about rapists and abusers you ask? Well we will just kill them! Easy solution!!
#this was circa 2016-2017 and it messed with me#i kept thinking 'but that's not a solution! it's just saying edgy things that make people say 'yeah!' without thinking of the details#and no btw these people weren't terfs....they didn't really like the word queer which is why i didn't use it but they were mostly trans/nb#the idea that only terfs don't like saying queer and think it's a slur is SO new on this website you don't even know#anyway the problem with this argument is people want to counteract it by talking about marginilised men and stuff#when in reality it's ethically wrong to enact this kind of implied vigilante justice on anyone#and arguing that way inadvertantly makes it seem like being assaulted by a marginilised person should affect the victim less somehow#in reality none of this is about caring for victims at all or about prison reform or harm reduction#it's because the people who wrote it can't fathom the idea that anyone who abuses can possibly be helped#btw this was right in the middle of the 'if i have bpd i can't be abusive' toxic waste era#bpd DOESN'T mean you're automtically an abuser and it's a very stigmatised label that some don't even think should be diagnosed at all#but.........there was this idea that anyone who abused is subhuman and should be killed#so it made people really really really want to downplay times when they harmed someone else....for some reason!!!#i am glad these ideas are dying down and hopefully it will encourage people to research abolitionist ideas for themselves#i know that there are serious difficulties helping people who abuse in particular in the sphere of domestic violence#but we HAVE to do better than 'idk kill em!'
3 notes · View notes
Text
I will read anything Jeff Lemire writes and I do think hes a good writer but I still standby hes kind of bad at endings and goes too hard on retcons
1 note · View note
m0llygunn · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)
summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too
contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k
Tumblr media
“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.
“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air. 
You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up. 
You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you. 
Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt. 
“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.” 
“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room. 
“You never even told me you were taking gym.”
“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”
“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.
“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs. 
If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down. 
“Show me what you’re working on.”
“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”
“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him. 
“I don’t.”
“Eddie, you do.”
Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you. 
You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.
“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself. 
“Told me what?”
“Why would you want to help me study that?” 
“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.” 
Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet. 
Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.
“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours. 
“Do what?”
“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.
“I— I’m not… we’re not—“
His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand. 
“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh. 
You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk. 
“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.
“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”
He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”
“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”
You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed. 
“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask. 
The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue. 
“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter. 
“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.
“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”
“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”
With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”
“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”
“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms. 
With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”
With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis. 
One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing. 
“Okay, and this one is…?”
“The head,” he states. 
“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”
You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot. 
“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”
“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt. 
He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.
“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?” 
He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow. 
“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.
You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of. 
“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.
“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —
“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.
Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”
“You’re squirming like one.”
“I’m not!”
“There’s nothing wrong —”
“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off. 
You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes. 
“Okay,” you nod.
“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern. 
“I believe you, Eddie.”
The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over. 
And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.
“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out. 
“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”
“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms. 
“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”
His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.
“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”
“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”
“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically. 
“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed. 
“That really sucks. Sorry.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation. 
“So… Do you have a tactic?”
“Tactic?”
“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”
“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”
“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”
Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks. 
“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”
Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.
“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.
“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs. 
You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease. 
He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…
“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”
“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”
“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going. 
He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. 
“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”
“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”
“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”
That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated? 
“So can I?” you ask. 
“Can you?”
“Ask you questions?”
He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”
You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer. 
“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.” 
“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?” 
“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively. 
“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour. 
“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”
He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.
“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer. 
“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.” 
His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue. 
“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.
“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”
“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying. 
“So it doesn’t feel good?”
“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.” 
“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”
“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room. 
“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”
“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod. 
“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away. 
The thing is, you’re not done. 
“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”
He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks. 
“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim. 
You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.
His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.  
“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”
He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you. 
“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.
“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.
“You know I like you, right?” 
His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.
“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”
You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’ 
“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”
You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless. 
“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.” 
At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you. 
Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal. 
“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.
Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.
“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.” 
“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.
His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly,  “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”
The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”
“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion. 
“Should I make a move?” 
“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.
Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.
Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.
Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks. 
Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes. 
Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.
You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.” 
Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin. 
His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile. 
You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.
But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.
“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud. 
“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”
You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”
“No?” 
“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.
“You are?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”
He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.
“I do.”
You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly. 
“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”
The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan. 
“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”
“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier. 
The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more. 
You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear.  “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs. 
Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck. 
“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him. 
It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate. 
Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his. 
“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper. 
His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.
This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together. 
His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely. 
When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.
You sigh breathily as you have to pull away. 
“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest. 
Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need. 
And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology. 
“Too much for you?” you tease.
“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”
He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs. 
A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.
With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.  
“Can I ask you another question?”
“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.
“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”
“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”
“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”
“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm. 
You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention. 
“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again. 
“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.” 
He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression. 
“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.” 
He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks. 
“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.
Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all. 
From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband. 
You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly. 
Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation. 
Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.  
If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream. 
“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.
“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”
“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.” 
Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself. 
With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.
Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it. 
Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief. 
While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth. 
You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last. 
But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.
Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.
It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base. 
“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath. 
His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment. 
“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him. 
Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes. 
You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.
Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.
“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows. 
His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him. 
Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.
His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.
“Pretty girl,” he hums. 
You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.
It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.
Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.
“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.
“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.
Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down. 
This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin. 
You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation. 
“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment. 
With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs. 
As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm. 
His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you. 
You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now. 
With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.
Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.
“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath. 
You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.
Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.
His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire. 
You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling. 
You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.
“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill. 
The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue. 
His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock. 
Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs. 
“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically. 
His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully. 
“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.
“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”
“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.
You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs. 
Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening. 
Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.
The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate. 
It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.
His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.
“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.
And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.
One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.
Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.
It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.
“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.
His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie. 
His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat. 
“Is that —”
“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.
“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.
“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.
His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 
You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise. 
“It’s not.”
You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”
“But you didn’t get to cum.”
True but — “I still had fun.”
He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.
“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.
“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.
“Next time,” you agree.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
merci buckets hope you liked if you did make sure to hit! that subscribe button and leave a like down below (aka comment and reblog <33333)
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
1K notes · View notes
lis-likes-fics · 3 months ago
Text
Casual
Pairing: bff!Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 12.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, protected sex (birth control), virginity loss, friends with benefits, Eddie talks you through it, constant consent, humor during sex, Eddie calls you "mama" but no mommy kink, fondling, slight hair pulling, oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, a million different positions, slight edging?, L-bombs but not romantically, swearing... A/N: So I wrote this as a best friends with benefits thing and not a best friends to lovers, but the line gets blurry sometimes with besties. I really fucking loved this one because they're like...they literally never stop being besties, they're so fucking dumb, I love them. So yeah, this is platonic in the least platonic way possible, and I love that for them. Thank you so much and enjoy! A/N #2: While I was writing the first author's note, my typing kept popping my ears. *cries in adhd like a little bitch*
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Eddie finds you in his bedroom doorway moments after hearing the front door close. He half expected Wayne to be coming back home early from work, but that didn’t make sense because he only left an hour ago and he probably would have called ahead.
But, no. You stand there with damp hair from a fresh shower and dressed down in some shirt you stole from his drawer and pajama pants. He raises a brow. He hadn’t been expecting you, but he isn’t surprised in the slightest. He doesn’t even bother to move from his spot, leaning back on his bed with an arm behind his head and a book in his hand.
“Hey, there,” he mumbles.
You stare at him for a while, saying absolutely nothing. You don’t seem particularly pleased. He stares back. Neither of you move.
“I’m upset,” you finally say, still staring, still standing.
If Eddie’s remembering correctly, you’re supposed to be out on a date. So hearing that you’re upset isn’t necessarily pleasing to him. Judging by the time, you should have had a very entertaining night. But apparently not.
He’s the first to move as he lets his book fall down to his lap. “Why?”
You think for a moment and then drop your stuff at his door, walking inside as you use your foot to close the door. There’s a long pause between speaking, as you use it to walk around his room and look at all of his stuff. “It’s sort of embarrassing.” You pick up a random pepper shaker on his desk, swirling it around and then turning on your heel to look at him.
He’s got his head tilted to his shoulder with a look on his face that reads “seriously?”. He sits up, lifting a brow. “I’ve seen and learned a lot about you since we became friends, so I doubt there’s anything you could do or say to embarrass yourself in front of me.”
You roll your eyes, licking your lips as you set the pepper shaker down again. “Okay, well…” you trail out, trying to decide how you want to tell him. “You know how I had that date?”
He puts his book away, crossing his legs and leaning back on his elbows. “The drive in?”
“The drive in.”
“What about it?”
“Well…” you sigh. “Okay, so…” You lick your bottom lip, trying to form the words. You’re never shy in front of him, so there must be something wrong. You chew on your lip, thinking to yourself with a heavy sigh. You plop down onto the bed next to him. “God, so, we got there and the movie was fine and whatever–” you roll your eyes, “–and we watched most of it but at some point, we started, like, kissing, and whatever, right?”
Eddie shrugs, laying back to stare at the ceiling as you continue to recount your night. “Yeah.”
“And it got a little…”
He raises a hand to prompt you, “Hot and heavy?”
“Yeah.” You look down at your lap where you fiddle with your fingers. “So we drove away somewhere more…more private?”
He looks at you, sitting back up enough to fully see your face as he smirks lightly. He gives you this devilish look that makes you want to hit him. “Did you...?”
You nod a little. “Yeah.”
Swallowing thickly, you watch his face shift as he takes in your demeanor. His head slumps to one side, his smirk falling off his face. “Oh…” he mumbles. “How do you feel?”
You stare at him. He can see you mulling over your response as you struggle to find the right words. Despite yourself, you feel a knot tying itself in your throat. You force it down and away, pretending it’s not there and hoping it’ll help. And it does…for now, at least.
“I’m upset.”
He cringes a little, lifting an arm to give you a place to lean into him. “That bad?”
You bury your face in his shoulder and pout. “Yeah.” You pull away suddenly. “I mean, I know everyone’s first time sucks ass and whatever, but, like…” You drop your head in your hands, wiping at your face as you find yourself glad for washing your makeup off earlier. “Eddie, I didn’t even…”
He almost seems offended. He doesn’t care about announcing it because you’re alone and also it’s outrageous. “You didn’t cum?”
“No!” you exclaim. “I…faked it.” You’re almost disgusted with yourself for it. It sort of just happened in the moment. He was clumsy in trying to get you there, but it wasn’t working. You just wanted to end it off and move on, so you just…made the sounds and the faces. He seemed pleased enough. “I feel kinda bad. I mean, he was sweet and all, and he, like… He tried, but…”
His question is crude with as little hesitation as humanly possible. Again, he doesn’t care about being awkward or guarded because you’re his best friend, and you’ve talked about worse, and there’s no filter with you. “How big was he?”
“Eddie, what?” Usually you wouldn’t mind his brashness, but you’re still trying to get over the events of a couple hours ago.
“Honest question,” he shrugs. “I just wanna know. Was he like…” he lifts his hand, squinting his eyes and hunching over and pinching his fingers together, “little?”
You shrug. His bluntness is rubbing off on you. You feel a little less awkward and you hunch a little less. “He was fine…just a little too…short? To reach?”
He makes a face, like he’s shocked and disgusted. He looks you up and down almost like it’s your dick. “That’s rough,” he says. “How many times did he cum?”
“Why do you assume he came?” you raise a brow.
He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Please, guys always cum.”
You roll your own eyes and push yourself off the bed. You’re roaming his room again as you mess with all of his stuff. You open his drawer and ruffle through his unfolded clothes, you pick up empty beer cans and turn up your nose at the smell, you strum the strings of his acoustic. You do all of this instead of looking at him when you answer. “Twice.”
“Oh.” You fake disgust when he looks at you, smirking and bobbing his brows at you. “You must��ve been really fuckin’ nice.” He makes this weird growling sound, and the “ew” that comes out of you is guttural. He snorts happily, and then his humor is gone as he deadpans, “Or he’s a lightweight. Did he cum inside?”
You’re sick of him.
You shake your head. “I made him wrap it.”
“Aren’t you on the pill?”
“Yeah.” He hums.
He watches you lean back against his desk, looking at this weird mask he had just sitting among the chaos. You move it around in your hands and force down the heat in your throat at the recounting going on in your head. Swallowing it down is a hard task that ultimately fails as he watches you begin to choke on the unshed tears.
He sighs, his chest warm with a bitter emotion as he watches your waterline threaten to spill over. “Oh, c’mere.” He stands from the bed, opening his arms wide to pull you into a bone crushing hug. It’s warm and it hurts and it feels so nice. He smells like he always does, green apple shampoo stolen from your house and cheap cologne and cigarettes. It’s a nice smell.
“I guess I like…I don’t know, I expected a little more. It was…really disappointing.” A couple of tears manage to get past you, and it pisses you off but you’re already over it. “I wanted…to get rid of it, and now it’s gone but it doesn’t feel like anything’s changed, but it also feels like everything’s changed, but not in a good way.”
He rubs your back, listening to you as you need him to listen. “I’m sorry,” he mutters when you stop. He sets his chin atop your head after a kiss to your forehead. Part of him wants to square up with the dude you went out with, but he sets that urge to the side in order to comfort you. “That fuckin’ sucks, and you deserve so much more.”
After a moment, you pull away from him, wiping at your face with a huff. “It’s stupid.”
“S’not stupid.”
You don’t argue, you just throw yourself onto his bed, laying flat on your back with your arms and legs spread so wide that you take up nearly all the space left. Eddie watches you lay there with your eyes closed and your breath slowed. He thinks you’re really pretty, especially right now with you wearing his shirt. He almost hates himself for thinking to ask–
“Look, it might be…creepy and weird to ask and—Jesus, if I’m being creepy, I want you to fuckin’ punch me s hard as you can—but, shit, maybe I should shut up.”
His rambling is cut off by you, still lounging on his bed. You haven’t moved, your eyes are still closed. You don’t seem fazed at all by his awkwardness. “What are you about to ask me, Ed?”
He sighs, sitting next to you with his foot shoved underneath him. He sets his hand on your thigh. You still don’t move, used to his touchy-communication. “What happened tonight fuckin’ sucks–”
“You say ‘sucks’ a lot.”
“It’s a nice word.”
You peek at him through one opened eyes. “You’re weird.”
“Nevertheless–” You laugh. He watches your belly tense as you do it, rolling over to sit up and witness his fumbling with opened eyes. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted…”
You laugh again, and he’s happy he could do that for you, especially after your rough night. You’re happy you could ease his worries, because he was being awkward, and Eddie isn’t usually awkward with you, and you know he likes your stupid jokes.
He takes a breath and starts again. “What happened sucks, and—only if you want to—I would be willing—if you’re comfortable—to…fix it for you.”
You raise a confused brow, less confused and more vaguely unbelieving. “Fix it…for me?” you echo.
He shrugs. “I don’t like when you cry, and I want to make you feel better. I’m not a total expert on sex, but I think I know my way around it pretty well.” He puts his hands together like he’s going to pray and points them toward you. “If you want…I can help.”
You raise a brow and stifle the smirk threatening to grace your lips, ready to tease him in order to push down the flush of heat rushing through you. “You wanna fuck me.”
He raises his hands. “I want to fuck you if you want me to fuck you. To help. But I’d love to fuck you… if you want…me to fuck you.” There’s a pause. “Maybe.”
You look away, scratching your head in thought. “Since when have you wanted to fuck me?”
He smacks a hand down onto your thigh just to do it. “Babe, it’s always been on the table. All you had to do was ask.” Whore.
You roll your eyes for the millionth time. “You’re such a guy.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t care at all. “Like I said, guys always cum.”
You raise a brow at him, shoving his hand off your knee to stand again. You jab an accusatory finger into his chest. “Is that to insinuate that you’ve cum thinking about me?”
“I– Okay, I did not– Listen here, you little shit.”
You laugh out loud, still pointing at him to make fun. “I’m kidding!” He fake laughs, and you return the favor by tilting your head and questioning him further. “But have you?”
To avoid it being awkward, he just shrugs nonchalantly and answers the question. “A couple times.” It works, even though you flush at the answer.
“What? That is so weird!”
“That is not weird.” He hopes you ignore the way his cheeks turn pink, powering through it with more brashness and more jokes. “It is completely normal to think of your best friend when you’re cranking one out.”
You shake your head definitely. “No, it’s not.”
He challenges you. “Have you ever cum thinking about me?”
Without turning your head, you glance away from him. “I don’t think that makes it normal.”
“So you have, is what I’m hearing.” You turn to him quickly, raising a finger as you try to speak over his ad libbing. He thinks he’s really funny, and it’s gonna make you scream.
“Listen–”
“Listening.”
You huff, glancing away and then looking back at him. Well, not really him, but the ends of his hair over his shoulders. “Maybe once or twice…” you shrug, “Maybe even thrice, but that’s not–”
“You little freak!” He points his finger at you, his whole face wide with amusement.
“Hey– Be nice to me. Or I’ll cry. You don’t like it when I cry.” You pout to give him a preview. You’re sure you could summon more tears if you really need to…
“You’re evil,” he shakes his head, looking up at you with a huge grin.
You bob your brows. “Yes, I am.”
He surprises you. In the next moment, his arms are wrapped around your midsection, and your feet lift off the ground. He takes you in his hold and turns you until you’re being slammed into the bed. You laugh as you bounce, squirming around to push him off of you as he pins you under his weight. Both of you are giddy with the amusement, laughing at each other and playing along with the other’s fun.
When you open your eyes and the laughter dies down, you realize that he’s actually pinning you to the bed. It sobers you up almost immediately, and you realize that he’s really close. He could kiss you right now if he really wanted to. You notice the exact moment he realizes it, too.
You gulp and take a breath for courage. Your voice is small—awkward—but it’s okay because he’s your best friend. “You can…” you mumble. “You can help, if you want to help.”
His eyes glance at your lips, and then he raises both his brows as he looks back at you. “You want me to?”
You nod, trying not to hold your breath to avoid dulling the charged air between you. “Yes, I want you to.”
He tilts his head and the tips of his hair tickles your cheek. “Is it because I have you pinned?”
“It helps.”
Eddie backs off of you, sitting back on his bed to allow you to sit back up. You do, crossing your legs underneath you. He thinks for a moment, watching you as he does. There’s a long pause where the both of you contemplate something, unsure if the other has the same thing in mind.
“Before we do anything,” he breaks the silence carefully and articulately, and you can see the moment that all his seriosity has set in, “I need explicit permission. And you gotta let me know how you’re feeling. I don’t wanna do anything to make you uncomfortable.”
You listen intently, nodding along as he lays down the rules. “Okay,” you say.
He tilts his head toward you, looking up at you through his bangs. His brown eyes are so pretty. You’ve always thought so. They’re so warm and loving, just like him. It’s the reason you became his friend in the first place: because he’s warm and loving. “S0?” he prompts, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You take in a deep breath and smile, lifting a hand and slowly setting it on his own. “I want you to have sex with me, Eddie.”
He visibly shudders, and you think he’s a sucker. Technically, he is, but whatever. “Jesus,” he mutters, running his free hand through his hair. Then he smacks yours away, and your chuckle turns into a snort. He always knows how to make you comfortable. “Okay.”
You turn your body to face him, clearing your throat. “So… How do we…?”
“Okay, so…” He makes a “shoo” motion with his hands, so you get confused and raise a brow. You slowly and hesitantly lean back onto your elbows, staring at him with all the silent questions you can muster. He rolls his eyes. “No, get up. Sit over there, whore.”
You roll your eyes at him in return, moving to sit at the head of his bed with your legs crossed in front of you. Playfully, he rolls his eyes yet again and shakes his head at you like he’s disappointed. Eddie turns to lounge across the foot of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. “First, I want you to walk me through everything he did.”
“Okay,” you mumble, thinking back to what happened in that car. “Well, he kissed me. We made out for a bit, and then he pulled me into his lap.” You only glance at him as you speak, but he’s so nice about it that you don’t feel so weird talking to him about being poorly fucked. “And he took off my shirt. He was, like, moving my hips and stuff.”
“Okay.” He listens so closely. His full attention is on you and only you, and it feels nice.
“Then he, uh, he played with my nipples. You motion vaguely to your chest.
“Did he use his mouth?” he questions gently.
“Mhm.”
He shakes his head then. He’s still gentle but his tone leaves no room for argument. “You gotta say yes or no, sweetheart, or I’m not touchin’ you.”
That’s fair enough. “Yes.”
“And it felt good?”
“Yes.” It almost sounds like a question, but he understands what you mean.
“Okay,” he gestures toward you. “What else did he do?”
You think for a moment. It’s already becoming a little fuzzy as your mind becomes distracted by the thought of Eddie, your sweet, idiot Eddie, doing these things to you and making it feel good.
This is the same boy you’ve seen fall out of his van because he tripped on the step and totally ate shit hitting the ground. This is the same boy you’ve seen stuffing his face with marshmallows because he was dared to by Mike and Dustin, and he was trying to prove that he could do more than they originally dared for him.
This is also the same boy you’ve seen absolutely shred his guitar with some fingering skills you’ve been envious of. And the same boy who’s seen you cry a million times and wiped away all the tears with plenty of jokes and compliments and threats of violence as were humanly possible. If there’s anyone who can make you feel good, it’s him.
You shake the thoughts away in order to get them straight. “He laid me down on the seat,” you remember, “and took off his pants and stuff.” You don’t really need the “and stuff” but it does make it a little easier…for some reason.
He furrows his brow in question, tilting his head like he’s grossed out all of a sudden. “Okay?”
“And then he…” you stare at his Dio poster across the room, “put it inside.”
He lifts his lip in disgust. He’s done that a lot tonight in response to this guy. “That’s it?” he asks with more distaste than you thought possible.
“What do you mean?” you furrow your own brow this time.
“Baby,” he says effortlessly, like he’s said it a million times before (because he has), “there wasn’t even foreplay.” He sits up, “No wonder you didn’t get off, girls need foreplay. Guys don’t need shit. We just think about tits, and we’re hard.” He shrugs, “I’m thinking about tits right now. Hard as a rock.”
The face you make transcends the rolling of the eyes or the upturn of a lip as you scoff. “Eddie–”
“You gotta be built up,” he continues, brushing past his comment like he never said it to begin with. You consider his words, taking them as the truth because he knows way more about sex than you would. He’s no prodigy, maybe, but you’re barely out of your virginity, so he��s got more advantage than you. “Did you blow him?”
You glance up, a bitter tone in your words as you mutter the first part, “Between positions… yeah.”
You don’t think “disgust” fits anymore. He’s just annoyed and entirely displeased. “You blew him, and he didn’t blow you?”
“I thought the term was ‘eat me out’.”
He shrugs a shoulder absently. “Symmetry.”
You airquote your response. “Okay, ‘symmetry’.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes,” you reply finally, still tasting traces of your toothpaste in your mouth. “I blew him, but he didn’t blow me.”
Eddie makes a guttural sound to try to properly express the amount of offense he takes to this. “You know what, fuck this guy.” He leans forward, placing both his hands on your knees and holding them there as he stares at you with those big, brown eyes of his. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got you now.”
It’s easy to take humor from that to avoid dealing with the arousal it sends through you. “You’re real confident.”
He’s not pulling back on anything, he has no reason to. He somehow becomes more intense as he effortlessly response, “Because I’m gonna fuckin’ eat you out like my life depends on it.”
“I–” There’s no way you can respond to that. “Oh. Uhm.” Your mind is immediately a jumbled mess of fantasies and incoherent words and more fantasies. There’s a heat between your thighs and an anticipation in your belly that makes it difficult to think.
“Relax,” he catches your sudden daze. He pats your thigh like it’s just something that he does and not a preface to him pulling them apart and having a feast. “You’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
He gets up, stretching his arms high over his head to pop his back. You can’t help the way your eyes fall to the slip of his belly, spying a tattoo hidden away there underneath his shirt. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” He eyes you. “You don’t need any infections.”
You turn your lip up because you think he’s disgusting. “That’s gross, Eddie.”
He points at you. “But considerate.”
You get up specifically to push him away from you. “Go shower, you dirty whore.”
He winks at you. “Yes, mama.” You don’t know how to respond to that. “Get comfy, I’ll be out in a bit.”
You swallow thickly, trying not to dissolve into some pathetic puddle because he called you “Mama”. You’ve never been into that before, and all of a sudden, you can’t get the sound of it out of your head. He’s already long gone, leaving you alone in his room as you sit on his bed to wait for him.
You’re a total goner, you’re sure.
~
You’re going through more of his stuff by the time he comes out of the shower. You glance over your shoulder at him after the door closes, and you’re almost surprised by what you find.
It’s not like you haven’t seen Eddie shirtless before. The sight isn’t unusual to you, but given the context and the way his sweatpants hang low on his waist, giving the perfect view of his gentle V-line, his soft tummy. It’s a mouthwatering sight, and it’s taking everything to look away.
His hair is still dripping. The dampness is giving his curls a gentle shine in the lamp light in the room. He rubs his towel haphazardly through his hair as he speaks. “I know I’m gonna take them off anyway, but–”
He stops short when he finally looks up to see you. You’re rummaging through his drawers like the little thief that you are, your hand stopped somewhere in the second drawer in favor of watching him. But that’s not what makes him pause. It’s the fact that you’re in one of his shirts, one that goes down past the curve of your ass and stops short before even reaching your mid-thigh. Your legs are bare—you’ve discarded all your other clothes somewhere in the room and left yourself in some underwear and his shirt.
He always knew you were sexy. As your closest friend, it’s his duty to know how sexy you are, but this is another level and he doesn’t understand why.
Instead of pointing out the fact that his sweatpants are growing a sudden bulge, he gestures to the shirt. “Are you gonna steal that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He scratches the back of his neck, tossing his towel onto a chair stuffed in the corner of his room. It’s stacked high with clean laundry that he never got around to. He pays no mind to it when the towel and a couple of clothes fall to the floor immediately after.
Eddie takes a breath before he looks back at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles, raising a finger to make a come hither motion. You listen to him, walking over to stand in his space. Your hands rest at his sides because you always rest your hands at his sides, and, naturally, he holds you back.
“Remember,” he begins in a quiet voice (or as quiet as Eddie can be), “you gotta use your words. I gotta know if I’m hurting you, or I’m doing too much or too little.” His thumbs stroke your elbows. “You know your body better than anyone, but I’m gonna do my best to know it even more than that.”
You chuckle playfully. “Okay.”
“And you definitely, definitely have to let me know when I’m doing something right.”
“So you’ll keep doing it?” you guess.
He shakes his head and says in a flat voice, “No, to stroke my ego.”
You roll your eyes, and your humor is interrupted by his hand lifting to touch your cheek. You lean into it because his hands are warm. “You still wanna do this?” He’s completely serious, and a little nervous now as he looks at you.
You nod, raising one hand to wrap around the back of his neck. “I trust you, Eddie.”
He nods, mostly to himself. “Good. That’s good.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips. “That’s great,” he raises his brows. Then he sighs, glancing away from your intense gaze. “Let’s hope I don’t fall in love with you or something, or you’ll be getting your back blown out every night and twice on Sundays. Jesus H. Christ.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head at his ridiculousness, almost forgetting that he’s probably completely serious and you are about to fuck as you play into your banter. “You’re so–”
You don’t get to finish your sentence. You’re cut off by Eddie’s lips engulfing your own, warm and soft and really nice against your own. You let out a long breath, pulling him closer by the back of his neck as he takes a step forward into your space.
To be completely honest, you’ve kissed Eddie before. You’ve kissed him on a dare, you kissed him to trick people into thinking you’re dating. Hell—he was your first kiss because you and some friends were screwing around and then you happened to be picked to be locked in a closet for seven minutes because you were at a stupid party playing stupid games.
So the sensation isn’t completely new, but the making out part is. Eddie is a really good kisser.
When he pulls away, you aren’t really expecting it. He seems pleased by your daze as he bobs his brows. “So what?”
Instead of answering him, as you’ve forgotten what you were going to say, you kissed him again. It’s really nice, kissing someone. It’s nice to be this close, to breathe each other’s air, to taste each other’s lips. His tongue grazes your top lip, and you lean into it, because you trust him and it’s nice.
Eddie keeps you pulled close against his body as he starts stepping forward, keeping you from tripping as he does. The back of your knees hits the bed, and you hold on too tightly as you feel yourself falling backwards. You laugh when you fall back onto the bed with his weight on top of you. He laughs with you, “You’re okay, mama.”
He silences you with his mouth again, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. He likes it just as much as you. Between that and his little pet name, your mind is swimming and your heart is racing. When he pulls away, it’s only to press his lips to the skin of your neck, suckling and nipping gently at the flesh as he does. You close your eyes, your fingers happily tangled in his hair as you keep him close.
“Mama,” you mutter under your breath, seeing just how much you like it as he nips at your neck. “I like that.”
You can feel him smiling against your skin. “Yeah? Want me to keep using it?”
You nod, “Yeah.” A hum echoes in your chest as he wraps his hands around your sides, lifting you a bit just to put you farther up the bed. He crawls on top of you, one of his knees settled between your legs as his hand caresses your side.
Your breath becomes thin when his hand smooths underneath his shirt, feeling the softness of your skin with a quiet breath. His palm stops at your belly as he slips the very tips of his fingers to rest underneath your breasts, feeling just how warm you are.
“Good?” he mutters, taking your earlobe so gently between his teeth and letting it go.
You nod, your eyes heavy like they’re glued down with sap. “Mhmm,” you breathe.
“Yes or no, mama?” he reminds you, gently kissing your lips.
“Yes.”
He smiles, rewarding you with another kiss as he whispers against your lips. “Good girl.”
You don’t have time to think about that right now. It’s too nice, too fuzzy. It sends a warm flush straight to the pit of your stomach and makes your breath hitch. Eddie knows and adds it to the list of things you like for tonight.
The slightest whimper slips from your lips when you feel his warm fingers reach up to brush your breast, gently groping you as he plays with your peaking nipples. He hikes your shirt all the way up until your bare chest is revealed to him, and he takes them in with an appreciative breath before leaning down to take one between his lips.
It’s much different than the guy before him. Eddie’s deliberate, licking and sucking and so, so gently nipping the bud. It sends a strange sensation through you, lighting every nerve ending and making it impossible to think straight as you keep your fingers tangled in his hair. You keep him close. It feels too good to do anything else.
You speak between breaths, your heavy eyelids and sticky lips working against your attempts to speak. “You’ve seriously cum to the thought of me?” you wonder, whimpering when his other hand comes up to pinch your other nipple between the pads of his fingers.
“Yeah,” he mutters, sucking harshly and making you gasp.
“Why?” you ask, making an attempt at playfulness between the haze of his ministrations. “Am I that irresistible?”
With only seriousness, Eddie looks up at you, letting his fingers take over in teasing you. “Yeah.”
Your grin falters, almost not expecting his answer—or at least the amount of honesty in it. “Wait, really? You’re not just buttering me up?”
He makes a face, a confused one that flatters you more than anything else. “No? You’re fucking sexy as shit.” He tilts his head, “You think I’m lying when I tell you that?” Eddie’s hand smooths down your side, gripping your hip as he goes.
You shake your head, bringing your knee up and sighing gently when his hand slides over the round of your ass. “You don’t have any weird feelings for me, do you?”
He pinches you, and you squirm away from him giddily. “Mama, I’m in love with you, but not like that.” He gently makes your side. “Now stop talking to me. It’s hard to kiss you if I’m talking.”
You chuckle. “Yes, si-”
Your words are interrupted by a tiny moan when his fingers graze the mound of your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. Your back arches just slightly, the ticklish feeling making quick work of scouring your body.
“Does that feel good?” he wonders quietly.
You nod and bite down hard on your lip. The anticipation of it is eating you up. “Yes.”
“Good,” he lilts, continuing to brush his middle finger up and down the length of your panties until he’s pulling them to the side just enough to see you. Eddie licks his lips, leaning in to kiss your belly. You’re weak against him, trying not to cant your hips up into him and deter his work.
His finger caresses your folds through the bit of slick that had begun to gather there. “You feel the difference?” he asks between kisses.
“Yes.” Your voice is a squeak, and he seems quite proud of himself for making it that way.
“I’m gonna take these off, okay?” he says. “Then I’m going to put my mouth on you. You’ll let me know if I’m doing too much, right?”
You nod. “Yes, Eddie.”
He smiles, “Thanks, mama.” He feels the way you react to that, the slightest flutter of your folds. He sits up just to allow him the access to slip your underwear down your legs. The little, flimsy material comes right off. He drops it to the ground and comes to kneel in front of the bed. You hold your breath when his hands close around your waist, pulling you down to the edge to bring you that much closer to his face.
Instinctively, you close your thighs. It’s hard to will them to open and stay that way with the way his warm breath fans over your skin, his hands touch your body, his eyes stay glued to your own, constantly asking for consent.
You think he’s going to say something smart, smirk at you and chuckle at your shyness. But he does. Instead, he just gives you a calming look and asks, “You still okay, mama? You wanna stop?”
You let out a gentle breath, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay.” You chew on your bottom lip. “Just not used to this.”
“That’s okay,” he reassures. His kindness is honestly making your arousal worse. You feel like you’re going to start shaking if he pulls away from you. “Can I open your legs?”
You nod. “Please.”
He nods back, kissing your knee and smoothing his hands down your thighs, one on each side. The hand on the inside of your thigh dips so slowly between yours, seating deep between them until he’s slowly pulling them apart. The sound your thighs make when he opens them is lewd, it’s the quiet schlick sound that comes from the arousal that seeped out of you. You start to feel embarrassed, but then he sighs like he’s so relieved to see it.
“Tell me why you’re so fucking pretty,” he shakes his head. Your thighs are itching to close as you watch him lean in, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh, just to kiss you. You bite your lip, nervous and so ready.
But then he stands. “Give me a second,” he says, walking away from you as his hands slide off your thighs. You sit up higher on your elbows, watching in confusion and slight annoyance as he leaves you on the bed.
“Eddie,” you call while he walks to his dresser.
“Hang on,” he smiles. “Jesus.” He does that thing where his tongue sticks out over his bottom lip as he sorts through the junk on his desk. “Not leavin’. Just lookin’ for something,” he mutters.
You fall back on the bed, willing your heart to calm. He makes a sound of success, turning back on his heel to get back to you. You look at him and watch as he cards his fingers through his hair. He pulls it back into a ponytail, wrapping a hair tie around it to make a messy bun.
You flush at the sight because not even a moment later, he’s on his knees again right between yours. “You can’t be serious,” you say.
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replies, looking at you excitedly. His hands land on your thighs again, keeping them spread apart as he pulls you again to the very edge of the bed. “I’d say hold on tight, but there’s nothing to hold onto so… Enjoy!”
He dives between your thighs, and the heat of his mouth latches onto your pussy. Your mouth slips open and a deep moan rumbles out of you. Your thighs close around his head as you feel his tongue licking at you, lapping at your folds as he delves between them.
“Eddie,” you call, one of your hands reaching down to touch the top of his head, trying to find some purchase at his hair. His tongue swirls around your clit, and you’re a total goner when his lips close around it and suck. You mewl at the unfamiliar feeling, enjoying every bit of it with an immense amount of pleasure.
You’d expected him to go slow, hesitant little licks against your folds as he worries about overwhelming you. But this is not that. It’s hot and heavy with deep strokes of his tongue and the tiniest nips of his teeth. There’s no way to keep yourself calm. Your hips are tilting up into his mouth, meaning he has to hold you down with his arms wrapped around your thighs.
Eddie seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He moans into you, heavy breaths fanning over your skin as he eats you out “like his life depends on it”. Your open-mouthed moans encourage him, especially when you say his name in this high-pitched gasp and slam your eyes shut. Your ankles hook behind him, pulling him in closer.
Eddie’s making the most obscene sounds—sounds worse than what you’re making. He slurps and laps at you like a dog drinking water. You’d call him a whore again if you could think of humor at the moment, but the only thing you want to tell him is to keep going and never stop.
When he pulls his mouth off of you, you whine. He smiles, knowing he’s doing a good job as he shushes you gently. “It’s okay, I’m not stopping,” he says. In the next moment, you feel his hand cup your pussy. “I’m gonna put my fingers inside of you. Is that okay?”
You nod. “Please, Eddie.”
His fingers tease your entrance, though you don’t think he means to. He looks at you as he prods a finger at the seam of your cunt, slowly pushing it in until they part around him. A short “ah” sound is what he hears as he presses his finger inside of you, moving slowly until he’s got it all the way in. “Good?” he checks, the slightest thrusts moving in and out of you as he does.
Your nods are becoming insistent. “Yes, Eddie.”
“You want more, mama?”
“Yes, please.” He loves how polite you are. You’re usually so mean—though, he loves that about you, too. It just means you love him.
He sets a steady rhythm, one that’s still slow as he focuses in on your face, the way it shifts and squints at every little push of his thick finger. It feels really nice, the way he takes his time with you, making sure you feel everything he gives you.
“M’gonna add another. You ready?”
“Yeah.” He rewards you with a second finger, pushing it inside along the first and stretching you out for him some more. He thrusts them in and out, a slow and steady motion slowly building as he massages those inner parts of you. He curls them, and they press against a spongy point inside of you that has you rolling your eyes. “That feels good, Eddie. Don’t stop.”
He smiles at your initiative, giving you what you want with as much enthusiasm as you give in wanting it. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lick at your pussy. You’re wetting his fingers so nicely, making it so easy to slip them in and out of you.
His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks on it while you whine, while his fingers curl inside of you with every intent of coaxing an orgasm out of you. Little ramblings fall from your tongue as you grind against his. He's greedy in the way he licks around his fingers, over your clit, tasting your arousal as it seeps out of you.
A knot is tightening in your belly. Your hips reach for him with each little nuance of his skilled fingers as you seek out the release he's promising you.
His name comes out as a moan on your tongue. If either of you hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have made fun of you for it. Instead, you're spread out on his bed with his fingers inside of you, a moment away from cumming on his mouth.
Your hips try to lift up into him as you get closer and closer. He holds you down with one arm, his lips and tongue and prodding fingers working in tandem to taste you.
Your ankles hook behind his head as your back arches off the bed. “Eddie,” you whisper. He feels the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his tongue becoming more insistent in the way it flicks and laps at your clit.
He makes these sounds of encouragement, humming and mhm-ing into you as he goes. Your release is like a burst in your belly, it starts there and swarms into your legs, your chest, the base of your being. Eddie’s tongue keeps licking and lapping at you as your back arches off the bed and your legs tighten around his head. You moan his name as white noise erupts in your ears, the distant murmuring of his words muffled as you try to cope with the pleasure that has begun to set every nerve ending on a wild fritz.
Eddie seems more enthused than anything else by your orgasm. Both his arms wrap around your thighs and hold you down. He actually stands, bending at the way to get closer as he longs to taste all the slick and arousal that leaks out of you. As he sucks on your clit and hums at the way that you taste, you grip his hair and pull him in closer.
But there’s a point where you think you might die if he touches you any more. There’s a gasp in your chest that rips its way out as you push him away from your fluttering pussy as kindly as possible. He leans in again, just for a moment, before he registers your body pulling away from him, notices the way your thighs unclench and your fingers loosen from his hair and your moans and gasps of his name turn into weak whimpers and grunts.
“Fuck,” you huff as you lay back on his bed. You turn onto your belly, crawling up his bed and collapsing into his pillows that spell like him. He watches, licking his lips and wiping his face with a smile.
“I was right,” you mumble, feeling your body coming down like you're floating back to the ground.
“About what?” You feel the bed dip next to you where Eddie sits down. Then you feel him lay back, his head laid out on your thighs.
“You're a whore.”
He rolls his eyes, smacking your leg with the back of his hand. “You liked it.”
“Doesn't mean you're not a whore,” you say. “Just means you're a good one.”
He sits up, moving over you so he's caging you in. His hair has come mostly undone by now, and it's more of a mess due to your insistence on how wonderful he is. His guitar pick hangs down in your face. Your eyes cross and uncross trying to watch it dangle.
“Well, if I'm a whore,” he bends down, his soft lips pressing into your neck as your lashes flutter, “then I'm gonna charge you. It's three dollars a minute.”
You chuckle. “Well, guess what?” He hums. “I'm poor, so no.”
He breathes in through his teeth, shaking his head. “Then I guess you'll have to work it off.”
You try not to be too timid as you press your fingertips to his chest, guiding him back so he's sitting up. You move onto your knees, pulling your arms around his shoulders and relishing his hands on your waist.
“That shouldn't be too hard,” you mutter. You are timid when you lean into him, testing the air between you to make sure it's okay that you kiss him.
When you still haven't made any contact, he nudges your nose with his. “C’mon,” he goads, his lips sticky when he speaks with all the familiar affection between you.
Your lip quirks a bit at his humor. You kiss him, biting his top lip just to confuse him. He laughs and you consider your goal achieved. You run a hand down the center of his bare chest, pausing at the base of his belly to tease the light happy trail disappearing into his sweatpants.
You slip your hand just underneath the waistband of his pants, tickling his skin as your fingers brush the base of his length hiding poorly behind the fabric. He flinches slightly from your touch, chuckling lightly as his hand comes to cup your elbow.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask suddenly, slightly startled by his reaction.
He shakes his head. “No, mama. You just surprised me.”
“Okay,” you murmur, your timid fingers slowly attempting to try again. But he just shakes his head.
“This isn’t for me. This is for you,” he says, pulling back enough to see you.
“Yeah, but,” you lick your bottom lip, “I wanna make sure you’re enjoying yourself, too.”
He licks his own lips as if to remind you that they were just wrapped around your sensitive cunt. “Trust me, I am thoroughly enjoying myself, mama.”
Your finger hooks around the waistband of his sweatpants, a slight pout arising from your face. “Can you take ‘em off, at least?”
His hands are already pulling them down his legs as he teases you. “So needy.”
You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” Your response falls short. As soon as the last word leaves your mouth, his cock springs from its loose confines and reveals itself.
You flush at the sight of him. You’re not a cock-hungry whore or anything—but if you were one, you think his dick would be a perfect subject for it. It’s not like he has this perfect cock that was hand-crafted by the gods or anything. But you think it’s safe to say that calling Eddie a freak is a valid name.
He’s long, freakishly so. He’s got a nice girth to him, you think, but you don’t know if he’s going all the way in—but, of course, you could be exaggerating. You’ve seen two cocks in your entire life, and Eddie’s is one of them and, admittedly, the better of the two. He will definitely reach.
“What the fuck, Eddie?” you look up at him.
“What?” His face falls slightly, his eyes widening just a bit as he wonders if your comment was good or bad. “What’s wrong?”
“How the hell do you fit that thing in your pants?” You shake your head. “Like, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
He just shrugs, but he’s a little relieved that you’re just being his asshole and not just some asshole. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”
“How is it supposed to fit inside of me? What is that, like a foot long?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m flattered—really, I am—but it, most definitely, is not a foot.” He looks down at the erection between his legs. The tip is flushed, and it kind of looks like it hurts. “Seven and a half.”
“What the fuck?” you whisper under your breath. You reach down, brushing your fingers over the tip. He gasps through his teeth, and you watch the way it kicks up in response. “Sorry,” you tell him, ignoring the amusement in your chest. It reminds you of a spring, the comedic kind that goes “boing!”.
“S’okay,” he murmurs. He lifts a hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb over the rise of it as he asks gently and genuinely, “You still wanna go?”
You nod, “Yeah. That monster isn’t gonna scare me away.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that big.”
You shrug. “You know, I heard Harrington’s like that big, nine inches.” You make a circle with your hand, moving it up and down like you’re jerking it off. “You think it’s true?” You bob your brows up and down.
He shakes his head, running a hand down his face as he snickers at you. “I doubt it. He could be one or the other, but both seem a little excessive. Have you seen how tight his pants are?”
“Yeah… you might be right.”
“We gonna talk about dicks, or are we gonna fuck?”
You sigh, shrugging like it’s nothing as you look back at him. “I guess, we’ll fuck.”
He smiles, pulling you closer to him. “Well, then, c’mon, mama.”
You actually giggle, surprising him as you bring a leg to wrap around his waist, pulling the other up to follow suit. He kisses you, his hands supporting your thighs as his dick nuzzles between the both of you, kept warm and wet by the way your folds sit against him as it pushes into his lower belly.
Eddie reaches between your bodies, taking his weeping cock in his hand and stroking himself a couple times with little wavers of breath. You watch some precum spill from his tip, sliding down the bottom.
“You want me to use a condom?” he asks.
You swallow thickly, thinking quickly before shaking your head. “Pill.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”
You’re touched by his consideration but you don’t really want to put into words how much you actually want to feel him inside of you. You shake your head again, kissing him quickly to soften the slight awkwardness in your chest. “I don’t want you to use a condom, Eddie.” You almost whisper it, but he understands.
“Okay, mama,” he whispers back. He kisses you, lifting you up from his lap just enough to tuck the head of his cock at your soaked folds. “You ready?” You nod. “Don’t hold your breath. Breathing makes it feel better.” You nod again.
“Ready.”
You try not to hold his breath as he slowly lowers you down onto his lap, splitting you on his cock as you take him inch by inch. At one point, you’re sure he can’t go any further as you feel him seated somewhere deep inside you. And he’s right, it feels really nice.
Your breath is so light and airy when you sigh against his lips, holding him tight as you bury your face in his shoulder. “Fuck,” you huff, hearing his own breaths pass heavily in your ear.
“Fuck,” he echoes. “Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me, mama.”
You don’t know how you feel about the way this makes you feel, the way it makes you act. Your voice gets sort of whiny, breathy, this little thing in his ear that makes his cock twitch slightly inside of you. “Can’t help it,” you sigh. “So fuckin’ deep.”
He nods, his hands steady and firm at your backside and your arms tight around his neck. “I won’t move until you tell me to.”
You just nod, knowing he’s not going to move until you give him an explicit “yes”. It’s a lot to adjust to. He sits really deep inside of you, and he’s pressing against a spot that makes you delirious with just the pressure the head of his cock puts on it. But when you can’t take the suspense anymore and you’re too excited to see how it would feel, you nod again.
“I’m ready.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll go slow.”
You nod.
Holding your waist, Eddie begins to thrust his hips up into you. He does as he says and moves slowly, guiding your body in his lap so you grind down on him. A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, and you almost immediately seek out that pleasure with the eager roll of your hips into him.
“Not too fast, not too fast,” he hisses, lightly patting your hip.
You nod into his shoulder, feeling his hands roaming. His arm wraps around your waist, his other arm comes up to hook over your shoulder. He keeps thrusting, moving so slowly and filling you so deep. Following his commands, you roll your hips slowly into him, meeting each of his own movements in a building rhythm.
There's an ebb and flow in the way that you move together. Tiny whimpers fall from your lips, and his heavy breaths join them.
Somewhere along the way, it's not enough. Your insistent hips grind into him in search of more. He feels it in the way you breathe, the way you move, the way you hold him just a little tighter.
“Eddie,” you huff. “C’mon, I need more. Please.”
The way you say it is a little more whiny, a little needier than you intended. It feeds his ego, and he can't help but to lose some of his reassuring kindness. He starts making fun of you because he likes making fun of you, and he thinks that you'll probably eat that shit up.
“More?” His grip on you tightens just a bit. His thrusts become a little jerky, searching the same intensity you are. “You need more, mama?”
“Eddie,” you groan.
He pulls your face from his shoulder in order to look at you better. “You sound so whiny, baby. Like a little bitch.”
You roll your eyes because he's Eddie, and he calls you a little bitch anyway. Grinding in his lap, you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. A strangled grunt comes out, and you smirk devilishly. “So do you.”
“Har, har,” he says.
“If this is all you can do, just tell me. It's okay if you're a one-pump-chump.”
You like vexing him. He likes when you vex him. But he also likes proving you wrong because he may be doing you a favor, but he can't let you go about thinking he can't fuck.
“Fuck you,” he scoffs. Then he's pushing you onto your back and wrapping your legs back around his waist, slipping out in the process. He towers over you like some wolf, bushy hair accommodating as his necklace swoops down to brush your skin.
“If you want me to stop, tell me to stop,” he says. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He guides himself back into you, embedding himself within you until you're full. One of his hands grips your hip while the other takes a hold of the headboard. It's this metal thing that squeaks whenever you move. So when he's thrusting into you with a vigor that has grown in the past couple of moments, it's accompanied by the constant whine of the metal. It's sort of funny.
His hips roll into you, waves of pleasure coming with each one. His hand cradles your neck, and you lean into him as he latches onto the sensitive skin of your throat, teeth scraping and tongue licking up the taste of your skin.
One of your legs comes up to wrap around his waist, and you moan as you pull him in deeper. His pace builds into this steady, needy kind of rhythm. The harder he thrusts, the more you clench, and the harder it is for him to stifle his grunts.
But you like the sounds he makes. Sometimes they're these deep groans that rumble in his chest like thunder. Sometimes they're these weak moans that you're pretty sure is him trying not to whimper. And you like the moans so much that you card your fingers through his hair and tug on a chunk of it as his head pulls back. His muscles flex, and his lips part. You watch his eyes flutter, this shocked whimper comes out of him.
“You did that on purpose,” his word and your moan mix together with the thrust of his hips.
“Ah…haha,” you gasp, nodding a little. “Yes, I—Oh, yes, I did.”
“What, are you a top or something?” he wonders, raising a brow.
You shrug, your mind a little blurry with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you. “Dunno.”
He's interested enough to find out.
Once again, you're being moved around. You whimper when he pulls out of you just to sit you up again. Eddie moves to the head of the bed and pulls you back into his lap. “Let's find out.”
You take him in your hand, lining him up with your waiting lips. As you slowly sink back down onto him, your eyes flutter shut as you feel the way he fills you. And it only gets better from there as you slowly take him farther inside until he’s buried so deep that you can feel him pressing somewhere inside of you that you can’t quite pinpoint.
You’re fully seated on him now, eyes squeezed shut as you adjust to the feeling. Your hands come to rest on his chest, the fingers of your right hand brushing over the demon head on his pec. When you roll your hips and feel the way it presses inside of you, you’re immediately done for.
Your rhythm isn’t steady for a while. You move purely out of an urge to quell this need in the pit of your stomach. As you fuck yourself on his cock, Eddie’s hands hold your waist tightly just to have something to hold onto. You move quickly and without remorse, your head thrown back in pleasure as your hips lift up just to smack down on his lap once again.
For a while, you just grind on him, focusing on that deep spot that shoots electricity through your thighs. This pitiful sound flutters out of you, like a shudder running down your spine as your hands move to cup the back of his neck in your palms. His name falls from your lips with a plea, it’s a weak sound that would bring him to his knees if he wasn’t already on his back.
“Fuck, mama,” he huffs. “Keep going, just like that.”
His hands caress your skin, roaming your body underneath his shirt still draped over you. He hikes it up farther and farther until he feels your warm breasts. “Can I take this off?” he asks. You just nod, muttering an “mhm” as you keep bouncing with closed eyes. He pulls the shirt over your head, revealing your bouncing breasts to him as he takes a hold of them with greedy hands. He palms them, kneading them like he would dough. You just keep moaning as he builds you up.
You don’t mean to, but in an attempt to respond, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a repetitive “yes, yes, yes” that echoes in the room alongside his own loud, open-mouthed breaths. “Shit, baby. Doin’ so good f’me.”
That makes you whimper, moving almost ruthlessly just to satisfy the rising need in your belly. “Fuck, I need cum, baby,” you whisper, repeating that again and again with each little roll. Eddie wastes no time in bringing his large hand to rest at the juncture of your thigh and your hip, his thumb swirling insistent circles into your clit. You gasp at the feeling, which is way more electric than you thought it’d be.
It becomes a little difficult to think. Visions of Eddie and his hands and your bodies, and the sounds of your slick and skin, and the smell of sex and body wash and cigarettes cloud your mind. You’re on the verge of tipping over the edge, you can feel your fingertips tingling with the wild sensations of your pleasure, so, so close to you now–
Eddie pulls you up from his lap, unsheathing your cunt from him. Your moans and your breaths are interrupted, and this weak cry tumbles from your tongue. He grunts, laying his head back and making this “hmph” sound.
You blindly reach for his cock, trying to guide him back inside of you before he’s lightly smacking your hand away. “Wait, mama, wait.”
“Eddie,” you whine, thoroughly unhappy with the way the growing waves in your belly had begun to retreat. “Please.” You could honestly cry. It had felt so good—you had felt so good, and he’d taken it all away in a matter of a second.
“What the fuck, dumbass?” you huff, looking at him with eyes unfocused with frustration and face flushed with lust.
“You’re so mean,” he says, almost as put off by the failed release as you.
“I was so close.”
“I know.” He sits up a little more, moving you off his lap. Your arousal is coating both of you, your thighs are sticky with it, his lap and his cock is glistening in the dim golden light. “That’s called edging.”
“I know what the fuck edging is. Why are we doing it?”
He laughs at your frustration, and you want to hit him. “Relax, we’re not done yet.”
“Well, hurry up,” you whine, already trying to throw your leg back over his legs. He just swats you away again.
“Turn around.” You would argue, but you’re too horny. So, instead, you turn around so your back is facing him. His hand spreads out along your back, and you nearly squeal when he pushes you down so your face is pushing into his covers. He pulls you up so your ass is in the air, grabbing one of your cheeks and squeezing.
“You still good?” He’s checking up, trying to be nice even though he was just the cruelest he could’ve been.
“Yes, please.” He likes you like this, honestly. It’s fun to see you so needy. It’s just something he can hold over your head.
He lightly smacks your ass, not enough to hurt but enough for your hips to jerk at the unexpected sensation. Immediately, he smoothes the skin with the palm of his hand and hums. He nudges your legs apart, spreading you open for him just enough as he pumps his cock in his hand.
“Just testing out some positions,” he says simply before he’s guiding himself back inside of you. It’s a welcome feeling, one you’re beginning to become accustomed to. Once he’s fully inside, he bottoms out with a heavy sigh. “It’s good to see which ones you like.”
“I like when I’m being fu–”
You’re cut off when his hips thrust into you, an almost cruel snap that makes this filthy smacking sound. You moan, literally feeling yourself melting into the bed as one of his hands comes to fist the sheets by your head. The other holds your waist tight, keeping you steady as he begins to fuck into you.
You really like this position. Being on top of him was so, so nice, but being underneath him is a feeling that makes your brain numb. You wrap your hand around his wrist as your other curls in the bedsheets, mewling feebly with every snap of his hips.
It’s dizzying, having him take you like this. There’s a light sheen of sweat coating your skin, encouraged by the warm air straying in through the slightly opened window. His breath is heavy, and you can hear him grunting every time his hips meet your ass. “Do you like this one?” he huffs, moving his hand to wrap lightly around your neck. He pulls you up from the covers so you can speak, your bodies bumping back and forth in the dance you’ve created.
You’re being kept steady only by your hand on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly. “Yes, Eddie,” you moan. You like saying his name, especially when you feel so good. It’s like a wave through your skin. It falls off your tongue with ease. “That feels good.”
He’s happy you’re happy. He keeps it up, losing his breath the longer he goes as your loud ones mix together in the heavy air of his bedroom.
You’re so glad Wayne isn’t home because there’s no way you would’ve been able to keep quiet. You respect that man too much to put him through this. The loud squealing of the bed certainly doesn’t help.
You turn your head to his arm, pressing your nose to his wrist to smell him. He smells like he always does, cigarettes and cheap cologne, like leather and maybe a bit of metal. But under that, you can still smell it. Green apple.
You kiss his wrist, and something snaps in him. For the hundredth time, Eddie pulls out of you and moves you back onto your back. Once again, you’re looking up at him as he locks you in. There’s a wild look in his eyes that makes you breathless, and when he’s pushing into you again, you moan.
“Right there,” you mutter incoherently when he fucks into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you keep your legs spread wide. “Yes, fuck, right there.”
Eddie focuses on that spot, punching the head of his cock into it over and over again and watching the way your eyes roll, your head falling back into the sheets and your hands tightening around his arms. He loves the way your lips part, your soft lips split open by the feeling of him. He bends down and kisses the exposed expanse of your throat, sucking on the skin and nibbling hickeys into your skin.
When he pulls away from your neck with a light smack, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down so your bodies are pressed flat together, skin to skin. He ruts into you, pressing his forehead against yours as you both breathe the other’s air. It’s all heat and lust and something else, something hot and heavy.
“I needa cum, Eddie,” you mumble, “For real this time.” You manage to get it out with a minimal amount of stuttering. You’re surprised you were even able to put the sass in it that you managed. He’s made such a mess of you.
His thumb finds your clit once more, and he’s circling the bud with a fervent kind of eagerness. “Keep breathing for me, mama. Breathe in deep.” You do as he says, so much so that you get a little dizzy as the air comes and goes. You buck your hips up into his thumb, your whimper getting higher and higher with each swirl.
You feel a knot curling in your belly, followed by a startling heat. “Eddie,” it comes out almost as a question. You’re addicted to the way his name feels in your mouth. You repeat it over and over, squirming and breathing and tightening your hold on him. He keeps fucking into you, focusing on that spot that makes you see stars as he just thrusts faster until his hips are moving in short, hard spurts.
When the dam breaks, it's with a slack-jawed gasp and a tight embrace. Your whole body tenses, like a coil tightening. It gets hot and hotter and hottest until a band snaps and you're trembling. You moan his name like a cry for help, holding his face between your hands and marveling at the softness of his skin. A brilliant shudder makes its way through your body, the quivering of your limbs making it impossible not to whimper and whine at each little shake.
Eddie helps you through all of it, keeping his in and out pace until it becomes unsteady with the fluttering of your pussy around his cock. Your mouth latch onto one another, more heat and lust and longing to fill the space between you as you recover with a dizzying head and buzzing veins. Loud and sloppy smacks accompany the ones coming from your hips, still meeting with the last sparks of your orgasm and the drive for his own.
His steady thrusts are unsteady now, just tiny little pumps of his cock inside of you as his breaths build into gasps just as small. You’re already coming down from your high, and your whines are sounding a little different now as you tilt your head to the side and hold onto his arm, the punch of his cock bordering on an overstimulated feeling after trying to recover from the large crash of your orgasm.
“Eddie,” you whimper, one hand still splayed across his cheek.
He pulls out of you suddenly, peeling his hand off of you to grab his cock. He tugs harshly at it, bucking his hips into his hand until he’s spilling out over your belly in warm spurts, these shuddered moans coming with it. “Oh, fuck, mama,” he whimpers in that sticky tone, burying his face in the crook of your neck as the last ropes of cum coat your skin.
There are a few moments where there’s complete silence—save for the sound of a car here and there, or a dog barking in the distance, or some people laughing even farther away, or your heavy breaths huffing between you two. Your fingertips caress the skin of his cheeks, drawing patterns into his face as he simply enjoys it with closed eyes and settling breaths.
When Eddie sits up, he takes your hand to pull you up with him. You both sit on his bed, looking down at your bodies now sticky with his cum, though his isn’t the only fluid sticking to your skin. Your thighs make a wet sound whenever you move.
You run a hand down your face, sighing heavily. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, popping your toes. Eddie watches you stretch your arms over your head, enjoying the way your tits look when you do.
“So I did good?”
You look back at him to see the way he watches you, his brows bouncing with a sly grin on his face. You roll your eyes, not looking at him as you chuckle. “Yes, Eddie, you did good.”
He smiles wide.
Eddie stands from the bed, and you watch the way he sort of limps from his room. You can’t help your grin at the sight. At least that means you did good, too.
Eddie returns with a wet cloth in his hands, which he uses to clean you up first, wiping away all of your slick and his cum and even some of the saliva from your neck left behind by his sloppy kisses. He takes care in the way he does it, paying such close attention to you to ensure you’re just as clean and comfortable as he wants you to be.
When he’s done with you, he wraps his hand gently around your throat and pulls you in for another kiss. You lean into it. His kiss is like air in your lungs, and you sigh gently. Then he disappears again and comes back clean (and still deliciously naked—you enjoy the sight of his chain link tattoo curling around his upper thigh). He rustles through his drawers, pulling out another shirt, this one clean and not somewhere on the floor.
“You’re staying over, right?” he asks, as casual as ever as if he hadn’t just cum all over your stomach.
And, just as casually, you nod and turn onto your stomach to stretch again. “Mhm.” He tosses the shirt at you. It lands on your head, and you don’t move to put it on just yet. He picks up his sweatpants from the floor and puts them back on.
Eddie nudges you to the side so he can pull the covers back, and that’s when you sit up to put on his shirt. You stand, padding across his tiny room to turn off the lamp on his dresser, shrouding the room in relative darkness. When you climb back into the bed, you latch yourself onto his back and hold him to your chest. He’s really warm, and it feels nice to be this close.
Sometimes you wonder if you and Eddie are supposed to date. There’s nothing casual about your friendship, and there never really has been (especially not now). But you think that having Eddie as your best friend, perhaps just under unconventional circumstances, is the best thing there is. If you ever decide to get together, that’ll be a moment for a time in the (relative) distance.
For now, you just rest your ear against his back and listen to his heartbeat. “Eddie,” you mumble, bringing your leg up to rest over his body like he isn’t bigger than you.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
There’s a huff that you think is him chuckling. He pulls a hand up and pats yours a couple light times. “Anytime, mama.” There’s some silence. “I love you.”
You smile. You love your best friend Eddie.
“I love you, too. G’night.” He hums back at you.
Tumblr media
Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx @quickslvxrr Eddie the Banished taglist: @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @queermaxwooo @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom Tag yourself here...
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
togament · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
⤷ ume, sakura, nirei, kiryu, kaji, togame, suo, endo.
"he wants to make you smile so he left you a little note. What'd he write and where'd he hide it? I got you."
⤷ 𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF!!!!, g/n reader, suo's kinda scares me ngl, I feel guilty for togame pls be patient with him He Is Trying, ENDO IS SCARY, nirei is very sweet oh MY GOD, all the fluff all the fluffies!!!!!!!
Tumblr media
♯ 𝐔𝐌𝐄
"You found it! ◡̈ I just wanted to drop a little sunshine for my sunshine while I go get some sunshine ☼ You're my favorite person in the world and I hope this note makes your heart do a little happy dance like mine does whenever I see you. If you find this (and you did!! Yay!) it means you're awesome and that I'm so lucky to have you in my life. I love you!!!!! Your Number One Fan, 🍑"
Little doodles and happy scribbles!!!! You can tell he was smiling so widely when he wrote everything out for you -- it's like you can feel his happiness radiating from his writing it's very infectious. He just loves you that much.
(hid it in your favorite mug for you to find in the morning when he's out tending to his garden.)
────
♯ 𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈
"Hey, love. Just a quick note to remind you how much I appreciate everything you do. For me and the boys. Your support means the absolute world to me. Don't forget to take your vitamins today -- gotta take care of yourself too, alright? I love you. - T."
Thankful and doting!!!!!! Vaguely smells like him too so you know he kept the note right by his jacket pocket for a while before sneaking it into its rightful hiding spot. His handwriting is sharp and you know he wrote it quick. He probably wrote it while on patrol.
(hid it inside your vitamin case that you use daily so you find it easily.)
────
♯ 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀
"I'm not really good with this whole cutesy stuff, but I wanted to let you know I'm thinking about you. You make my days better (even if I don't say it right). Love you. Lots. - S. P.S. there's chocolate for you in the fridge :)"
Clumsy and cute, the note has little writing indents of past notes he's written and promptly thrown away. He settled for this one because you're stirring awake beside him and he doesn't wanna get caught lmao
(Has the note hidden in one of the books you're currently reading, right where your bookmark is.) ────
♯ 𝐍𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐈
"Whoops. You found me. Wanted to leave you a little surprise! I'm planning on something fun for us real soon, but until then (tonight!!) I hope this note makes you smile as much as you make me smile every day. You're the best! I can't wait to see you. - your bunny."
Bright and cheery, much like Nirei is. Of course he has something planned for the both of you by the end of the day and he's keeping it a secret... But you know him. Something's bound to slip from his lips when you meet up with him tonight. Promise to act surprised?
(He hides it inside your pencil box because he knows you use it on the daily.)
────
♯ 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔
"Sweetheart! ♡ Surprise! I just wanted to leave a little reminder of how much I adore you. If you find this note, it means you didn't wait for me to play with you ( •̀ - •́ ) kidding! Can't wait to start our new game tonight. I love youuuu!! - forever your Player Two ♡"
Written on a purple and pink post-it, it's spritzed with his perfume. His penmanship is remarkable too. Playful and sweet!!!!! It makes you extremely giddy and excited to meet up with him later. You know for a fact he's got his space set and decked out in fairy lights for your game night. Gotta wait for a couple more hours though UGHHHSHAS
(has it neatly hidden inside the game case of the new game you both have been dying to play.)
────
♯ 𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈
"Before anything, don't get mushy on me. Just wanted to say you're pretty great and I'm glad you're around. Found this album at the shop. Remembered you saying you wanted to listen to them, so I guess that's my way of saying I care. Listen to it with me later. - Ren. ♡"
neatly written on a post-it note, you kinda think it could be printed out. It's crazy. Short and concise, you can tell he had his brows furrowed when he wrote this for you. He's trying!!!!!! He really is!!!! You know he'd bring some food for the both of you when you meet up. He's a romantic at heart.
(has it taped to the CD he bought for you right next to your player.)
────
♯ 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄
"I'm probably late again, aren't I? Big surprise. I promise I'm working on it, but in the meantime, I thought I'd leave you a little reminder that you're amazing and that I promise I'll always be worth the wait. Thank you for being so patient with me, doll. I love you. A lot. Bringing your favorite dish tonight. Kame Special. -🐢"
HE'S TRYINGGG AAAASJKDKJASD!!!!!! As you read, you can practically hear the slight purr in his voice and he sounds so apologetic too. HE'S TRYING HE'S TRYINGGJAKJDS he loves his sleep a bit too much, you see. Pepper him in kisses when you meet him tonight. He deserves as much.
(Snuck it inside your planner the night before your date so you'd find it when you go check on your schedule for the day. He's not late for your home date later, by the way.)
────
♯ 𝐒𝐔𝐎
"My dove. Consider this a little hint: I've got a little something special planned for you, but you'll have to find more clues first and follow them. I promise you won't be disappointed. I'll be waiting for you tonight. Wear that dress that I love so much, yes? - Your Hayato."
uH OH. UH OH UH OH. Your man has you working for the surprise but that's such a him thing to do. At least he has something super cute planned by the end of it!!! If he says you won't be disappointed, he means it. HE MEANS IT.
(hid it inside the pocket of your coat that he knows you'll be using today. It's something you'd naturally reach into. Such a Suo thing to plan out.)
────
♯ 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎
"Hey there, gorgeous. I know you're in the middle of pretending not to miss me while reading up on this chapter. It's my favorite one, by the way. If you find this note, it means I'm missing you too and totally not hiding underneath your bed or in your closet ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ See you in a sec. - Only Your Yams."
Ominous and teasing, much like Endo is. You kind of wanna check under your bed and in your closet but you know your boyfriend's just out to grab some coffee for the both of you. His handwriting is legible and super neat and he spritzed some of his favorite perfume on the note too. Mmmmm. Sandalwood and smoky vanilla.
(hid it between the pages of your favorite book with your bookmark replaced with a new one he bought for you. One of those fancy ones that can mark the words and stuff. Has to match his.)
Tumblr media
a/n: I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING I FUNALLYNJASDJKASD HUHUHUHUHUUASHKAS thank you for reading through this. I feel very rusty.
697 notes · View notes
cozage · 1 year ago
Note
hii can i request silent treatment with sabo, law, and ace? like the one you wrote before! i love reading it sm i wanted to see how they (sabo, law, and ace) would react if they received/ gave silent treatment !
Characters: gn reader x Sabo, Law, Ace Cw: everyone involved being a bit of an orange flag Total word count: 4k
Silent Treatment
Sabo
Oh sweet sweet Sabo. He didn’t even realize his offhanded joke in the meeting had offended you. He didn’t think about how you and Koala were the only ones not laughing about the jokes the officers said. He didn’t notice how you and Koala immediately left the room fuming as soon as you could.
He had to run to catch up with you after the meeting, and you showed no sign of slowing your pace. 
“Hey!” he called out, trying to get to you. “I’m gonna go out with the guys for a bit, I’ll catch up with you soon?”
“Do whatever you want,” you shot back. “The men know best after all, right?” 
He must not have heard the sarcasm and anger laced in your voice, because he just gave you a wink and a peck on the cheek and ran off with some of the other leaders. 
Koala gave you a side smirk. “They’re clueless, I swear,” she laughed. 
“We never get the credit,” you grumbled. “I can’t do it anymore, Koala! I’m so fed up with this!”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“So many times!” you cried. “We’re treated the same professionally but socially-”
“It’s a commanders club,” she finished for you. “Maybe we should make a separate club?”
“Rule One: No talking to them until they apologize.”
Sabo was surprised to find that you weren’t waiting for him in bed when he got home. You weren’t in the spare room, either. 
He finally found a note on the kitchen that was short and to the point. “Sleeping at Koala’s.”
Confusing, but he was slightly drunk, so he opted to go to bed and figure it out in the morning. 
When morning came, he was disappointed to find that the coffee hadn't started. He went to grab his overnight oats from the fridge, but you hadn’t made that for him either, which was strange. Usually when you stayed at Koala’s, you prepped all that stuff ahead of time. But last night you hadn’t. He’d have to ask you about that before the meeting this morning. 
He arrived late to the meeting since the coffee took longer than he thought it would and he had to make breakfast. You were already sitting when he got there, you and Koala talking to each other quietly. Normally you saved a se at for him, but today all of the seats had been filled, and he was left with one at the end of the table.
He kept trying to catch your eye, but you refused to look at him. He finally caught Koala’s at one point, and mouthed “What’s wrong?” but she simply rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Dragon. 
If Koala was mad at him, that meant you were mad at him. He racked his brain the entire meeting, trying to think of what he would’ve done to make you upset. But he couldn’t think of anything. 
He tried to catch you after the meeting, but you and Koala made a beeline for the door and ignored his calls after you. 
“Just let them go, dude,” Jiron said to him. “Those two never want to hang out with us anyway.”
Shit. It all clicked together. The jokes made in the meeting yesterday, him going out with the boys without asking if you and Koala had wanted to come. 
“Maybe if you treated them with a little respect, Jiron, they would.” Sabo’s words came out in a low, threatening hiss. 
“Look, I know you’re close with them,” Jiron said. “But they’re not very nice to us either. They’re kind of…”
“Kind of what?” Sabo edged, his blood starting to boil. 
“Well…bitchy.”
Sabo wasn’t really sure what happened next. He didn’t remember doing anything, but the next moment, Jiron was on the ground holding his nose. Blood was leaking out through his fingers onto the ground. 
“Don’t use that word to describe either of them ever again. Got it?” Sabo growled the words, looking around the room. 
“What the FUCK, Sabo?” Jiron cried, but Sabo was already pacing toward the door, desperate to get to you as soon as possible. 
He caught up with you and Koala quickly and jumped between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your alls shoulders. You tensed at his touch, but once you realized it was him, you just scoffed and shrugged him off. 
“Go away, Sabo,” Koala sneered as she shoved him away.
“I’m sorry!” Sabo jumped in front of you all, trying to block your path. “Please, I’m sorry I laughed at those jokes yesterday and even made one myself. That was really shitty of me.”
“Sabo,” you sighed, shaking your head.
He fell to his knees and looked up at you, begging. “And please teach me how to use the coffee machine! And make overnight oats! I’ll make it from now on. I’m starving and I’m sorry.”
His apology made you giggle, and you took his hands and helped him to his feet. Once he was standing, you laced your fingers through his. “You’ll really make the oats?”
“If you want me to.”
“Deal.” You smiled, and gave him a soft kiss to seal his promise. “Can’t go back on it now.”
“And how are you going to make it up to me?” Koala pouted.
“Oh,” Sabo suddenly got very bashful. “I punched Jiron, I think.”
“You WHAT?!”
Law
You bounded into Law’s office, excited to tell him the news. “Law! Shachi just caught-”
“Hang on,” Law mumbled, flicking through his book. He was always looking for something. You were always interrupting him. 
After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Okay, go ahead.”
“Shachi just caught an electric eel! A massive one!”
The moments the words left your mouth, Law was back to looking back at his book. “Interesting. Is that all?”
“Well, I just thought-”
“Hang on,” he mumbled again, already lost on another tangent in his head. 
“Don’t worry about it.” You left the room before he had a chance to respond, though you doubt he even noticed your absence.
He got like this sometimes, and you tried not to get hurt by his sudden coldness. It’s just what happened when you were with the Surgeon of Death. A few hours later you had all but forgotten the encounter. There was an island coming up, and you ran to alert him.  
“Law!” You slammed his door open, ecstatic. “Law! Guess-”
“Do you mind?!” His loud and hostile voice made you take a step back. “I’m trying to do something and you keep interrupting me!”
You pushed down the lump that was in your throat, but you could feel your lip trembling, threatening to give you away. You couldn’t look weak in front of him. 
“Sorry,” you whispered, rushing out of the room.
Shachi found you first, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I told you, you’re too good for him! Maybe you should give him a taste of what it’s like to lose you.”
“Like how?”
A devious grin grew on Shachi’s face. “Silent treatment.”
“Hey captain.” Bepo peeked in the door nervously, knowing there was tension about to be caused. “We’re heading off to the island.”
Law looked up from his book, confused. “Island?” You always told him when you were about to approach an island.
“We docked about a half hour ago,” Shachi chimed in from the hallway.
Law could hear something in his voice. “Where’s Y/N? Are they going?” 
“They're going,” Shachi said, grabbing the door handle. 
“Well, can you-” Law’s words were cut off by Shachi slamming the door shut. 
That was Law’s first indication of something stirring. Shachi always took your side during squabbles, and he seemed livid today. 
Law meant to go talk to you. He wasn’t sure what he needed to apologize for, but he knew it was something. But then he found an interesting article about poisons, and he got sucked into reading. Before he knew it, the sun had set and he had to turn on a lamp to keep reading.
Shachi, on the other hand, kept your mind busy. He took you out on the town, dragging you into every clothing shop and making you try anything on that even might look good on you. He pulled you into dessert shops and trinket stores and forced you to go on a beach walk with him. He was your best friend for a reason.
“What if he doesn’t apologize?” you asked him, watching the sun sink. “Then you don’t talk to him, no matter what,” Shachi responded.
Law was still shut away in his office when you returned, and your heart felt a soft ache. He hadn’t even noticed your absence. 
“Come on,” Shachi said gently. “You can sleep in our room.”
“I should go talk to-”
“No,” Shachi said firmly. “He always does this. He needs to learn his lesson.” So you slept in the crew bunkhouse for the first time in months. Nobody asked questions, everyone just accepted it. You suspected Shachi had filled them in. 
It took Law a few minutes to realize what was wrong. He had come into his room silently and brushed his teeth in the dark before bed like always. It was quieter than usual. And when he went to lay down, the bed was still made. As he pulled the covers back, he couldn’t help but notice how unnatural it felt. But he couldn’t place why.
It was too cold, he realized. And he quickly flicked on a light in the room to find it empty. Thoughts raced through his mind. Where were you? Had you gone missing? Had the Navy or someone else captured you to turn you in for a bounty? 
He quickly walked to the shared common room, where he found Penguin and Ikkaku sitting. “Did you go to the island?” he asked, scanning the room. It was too late for you to be up, but he had to double check. 
They both nodded, and Law tried not to panic. “Did Y/N come back?”
“Yeah,” Penguin affirmed. “We had dinner with them and Shachi, and we all walked back together.” He gave Ikakku a nervous glance before continuing. “I think they’re sleeping in the shared bunkhouse.”
“What?” Law hissed. “Why?” But Ikkaku and Penguin both shrugged, and Law turned and stormed out the door, making a beeline for the bunkhouse. 
He flung the door open, searching for you. He quickly found you in the bunk below Shachi, and he walked over to where you were sleeping. 
“What are you doing?” Law said, shaking you lightly. “Come to bed.”
You groaned in your sleep and pushed him away. You never slept well in the bunkhouse. You were a light sleeper, any type of noise made you wake up. 
“Y/N,” Law said, shaking you harder. “Let’s go.” 
“Law?” Your eyes finally opened, your voice full of exhaustion and sleep. Once you realized it was him, you slapped a hand over your mouth. Silent Treatment. 
Law could see the hurt and anger in your eyes when you recognized him, and his heart constricted when you turned away from him. 
“Can we talk about what’s going on? Please?” he begged. He was trying not to disturb others, but you could hear them beginning to stir. 
You almost caved, but Shachi came to your rescue. He hopped down from his bed and put himself between you and Law. “You can talk in the morning,” Shachi said. “Y/N wants to be here, so let them sleep here.”
Law tried to look past Shachi to you. “I know you can’t stand sleeping here. Just come to bed. Please.”
“Captain.” Shachi’s voice was on the verge of dangerous defiance. “Leave.”
Law stared at him, not sure what to make of Shachi’s protectiveness over you. His gaze was almost challenging, but Shachi refused to back down. He could hear the others in the room starting to stir, and he knew he was only embarrassing you, so he conceded. “I’m coming back first thing.”
“That’s fine,” Shachi said. “If Y/N wants to talk then, you’re welcome to have a conversation.”
Law slept horribly that night. His fingers kept reaching out for you. The bed felt too big, the covers weren’t warm enough. He finally got up and started reading. He was too anxious to sleep.
So were you. You were tossing and turning every 20 minutes, trying to get comfortable. You couldn’t sleep without Law’s heartbeat thrumming in your ears. But Shachi made you promise to never admit it. 
Law was sitting in the hallway outside the door when you went to get breakfast. You almost tripped over him, and when he saw you, he immediately stood to his feet. His tired gold eyes pierced into your soul, and you could see he was in rough shape.  “Can we talk now?” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but you could hear it loud and clear. 
You gave a panicked look to Shachi, but he only gave you a smile and a small nod, encouraging you on. 
You gave Law a nod in agreement. You still weren’t ready to talk to him, but you could listen. 
“I did something yesterday,” Law said, closing the door to his office as you walked in. “I snapped at you when you were excited about something. I prioritized my studies over you and I’m sorry.”
You watched him closely, making sure his words were genuine. Law had a tendency to apologize when he knew you wanted to hear it, not when he actually felt bad about it. 
“I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he continued. “I tend to get obsessed with my work, and my relationships hurt because of it. And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need you to tell me when I’m hurting you. Because I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want. So please…tell me. Yell at me. Smack me. Just don’t…don’t disappear on me. Please.”
Your heart melted at his words. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “And you won’t get mad?”
“I promise I won’t.”
You gave him a mischievous grin. “Even if I smack you really hard?” 
“I feel like I’m going to regret saying that,” he groaned.
You giggled and gave him a soft kiss. “Too late, Captain.” You rested your head on his shoulder, his familiar scent making your eyes start to droop. “Can we go back to bed now?”
“Bed would be nice,” he mumbled into your hair, already pulling you toward his private room. 
Ace
Fifteen people in the bar, and your boyfriend had flirted with every single one. 
Friendly. That’s what he always called it. He was just being friendly. But you saw the way those commoners looked at him, the lust in their eyes. Getting with a pirate would be thrilling, they’d whisper when his back was turned. He never seemed to hear them talk about him, but he’d always be around them. Convenient. 
“You shouldn’t be bothered,” he’d always say. “You know that I’ll always choose you.”
But you were bothered. You hated the pit of jealousy that formed in your gut every time a new person walked up to him. They were always so touchy, rubbing their hands along his shoulders, and the daring ones would even venture down his chest. Like he was their plaything. But he didn’t belong to them. 
He was yours. Just not in this bar. Or any bar. 
Maybe it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. You were certain he wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of you flirting with another man. 
Your eyes met an attractive man across the bar, and you decided it would be a good theory to test. 
Seeing what you were about to do, Marco grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down into the seat. “Wait,” he muttered.
“Stay out of it, Marco,” you hummed softly. Your voice was pleasant, but there was a threatening undertone to it. 
“If you want to make him jealous that will end in a fight and change nothing except the intensity of your makeup sex, go for it.” 
Your cheeks brightened at his words, and you finally broke your eye contact with the random man to look at the commander. “Marco-!”
“But if you want to make him panic and stay by your side from now on, listen.” Marco’s voice got low. “Ace looks over here at least once every five minutes. He’s checking on you. I’m guessing jealous sex is his-“
“MARCO!”
“Anyway, I guarantee if you vanish, it’ll make him sweat. Just go back to the Moby Dick, and crash in my room for the night if you want. Give him a bit of the silent treatment. Don’t lean into what he wants. Push away, and I know he’ll stop.”
“How?”
“Because he’s head over heels for you, dummy. Even right now, all he wants is your attention. Don’t give it to him and you’ll cut the bad habits.”
It was worth a shot, and you wouldn’t have to talk to any sleazy guys to test the theory. 
“You’re the best, Marco.” You flashed him a grin and stood, giving Ace one last glance. “But never talk about my sex life again.”
“Oh please,” Marco scoffed. “You have no idea what the commanders talk about during shower time, do you?”
Your eyes widened in horror, but Marco just laughed. “Relax! It was a joke!”
“It better be!” you hissed. “Or I’ll skin that boy alive.”
You gave one more glance to Ace. He was caught up in some conversation with a woman, giving her most of his attention. You rolled your eyes, jealousy panging in your chest, and slipped out the door. 
The first two times Ace glanced over at your table, he wasn’t worried about your absence. But the third time, he started to get a bad feeling. You had been gone for too long. 
He wandered back to the table, trying to appear casual and unbothered. “Hey Marco,” he said, bringing him another beer. “Where’s Y/N?”
Marco knew he was using the beer as a bribe, but took it anyway. “Not sure, they walked out about thirty minutes ago. Hasn’t been back since.”
“What?” Ace could feel himself sobering up, worried about your safety. “Where’d they go?”
“They seemed tired,” Marco said, watching Ace carefully. 
“But they always tell me when they’re going home,” Ace grumbled, looking around. “I’m gonna head back too. Kind of over this whole scene.”
Marco chuckled, reading through Ace’s words, but he didn’t say anything further. He watched Ace walk out the door and back to the ship without so much as a goodbye to anyone in the bar, and he knew his plan would work. 
Ace tried not to panic when you weren’t in his room. Sometimes you slept in other places, like the common room or the bunkhouse. Especially on drunken nights, you always seemed to find some random place to pass out. But you always told him when you were going to bed. 
He didn’t sleep well. He wandered around the ship several times, trying to appear unbothered. But he was searching every nook and cranny, desperately looking for where you had landed yourself. 
He didn’t see you again until the next morning, sitting at the breakfast table with Marco and a few others. You were completely surrounded by people, but Ace stopped by your seat on the way to the breakfast line. 
“Hey.” He touched your shoulder and you stiffened at the contact, which was odd. Normally you leaned into his touch. You always looked up at him full of love, silently begging him for a morning kiss. But this morning you didn’t even bother to look his way. “Where’d you end up last night?” he asked. 
“My room,” Marco answered for you, laughing. “That sure was a shock to walk into!”
You laughed, shoving Marco slightly. You still refused to acknowledge Ace, though it was starting to get difficult. “Hey Thornton, you left shortly before me. Where did you end up?”
“I swear I could’ve made it back to my room if I wanted to!” he bellowed, and everyone laughed. 
“Right!” you laughed. “I bet the deck all night sure was cozy!”
You were ignoring him. Ace was sure of it. Had something happened between you and Marco…no. The two of you had only ever been friends, so close you might as well have been siblings. 
He finally left you alone, his brain in overdrive trying to figure out what had made you so upset since the last time he spoke to you. 
“You flirt too much,” Marco said, joining him in line. 
Ace looked back at him, confused. “What?”
“You’re wondering why Y/N is ignoring you, right?” Ace shrugged, trying not to show that it was bothering him too much, but Marco clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Drop the act, man. You should care. And I know you do. I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears trying to figure it out.”
“I just like to talk to people,” Ace defended. “What’s the harm in that?”
“The harm is you don’t just talk. You flirt.” Marco chuckled, shaking his head. “I know what you’re doing, dude, and I don’t blame you. But you’ve got a good thing. Don’t lose it because you want to…talk.”
Ace frowned, annoyed with being called out so personally, but he thought about it while he ate his breakfast alone. He knew how much you hated the way he treated local islanders when you all went out. But he loved the jealous, possessive side of you. He loved watching you fight for him, even if you were fighting with him. 
He found you lounging on the deck, reading a magazine. He walked over to you and sat on the edge of the lounger. He saw your eyes flick up and then immediately back to the magazine, and he could’ve sworn the air temperature dropped 10 degrees. 
“Hey,” he cooed, his hands dancing up your legs, finding the spots he knew you were ticklish. 
You tried to move your legs, but there weren't many places to escape to without getting up and walking away. 
“Please talk to me,” he pouted. He leaned against you, pushing your magazine out of the way and resting his head on your chest, looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. 
You turned your head away from him, trying your best to ignore him even though he was physically on top of you, pinning you down. 
“Pleaseeeee,” Ace begged. His hands came up and playfully squished your cheeks, and you struggled to keep a straight face. He was so good at making you smile. 
“Go away,” you finally said, trying to push him off of you. It was useless, but you had to try. 
“You speak!” Ace cheered, and you rolled your eyes. You were tired of his antics. You wanted an apology. 
“I’m so lonely without you, babe,” Ace sang offkey, his fingers tracing along your shoulders. “Please come back to me, my loveeeee.”
You didn’t react, but you could feel your vision starting to get blurry. He was too stubborn, but you couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep being humiliated and forced to watch Ace live the best of both worlds. 
“I’m sorry,” Ace finally whispered when he saw your eyes starting to get watery. “I know I’m a little insane.”
You finally looked at him, still silent. Waiting for more. 
“And I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you for so long,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you. So no more flirting with random people in bars. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”
“Promise?” you whispered, your voice breaking. 
“I promise,” he said, nuzzling into your chest and hugging you tight. He’d hold you close and never let you slip away again.
6K notes · View notes
sterredem · 5 months ago
Text
Secrets
Logan sargeant x reader
Face claim Olivia Rodrigo
Word count Long
Warning Lando being annoying, not proofread (so maybe some spelling mistakes), Me not really knowing how to describe racing IN a race.
Summary Everyone thinks Logan is single, he isn’t. They also think he is a bad driver. He proves both of them wrong.
A/N this was kind of based of the Canada GP, but I changed a few things about it (you will notice) to fit the plot. ……….I wrote the last part in the middle of the night, so it either won’t make sense, or there will be a lot of spelling mistakes (I think the last one). But I don’t really have time to edit it and ehm I do it will be next week so you will have to do with this. ……………Also one of my favs so far written…
Don’t forget to Reblog comment and give feedback! It helps a lot!🫶❤️
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Instagram
Tumblr media
Liked by Taylorswift and 4.753.974 others
Yourusername Thank you so much US so far it has been an amazing tour!
View all 5.836 comments
Taylorswift So proud of you! Liked by author
User1 MOTHER
User2 So happy I got to see you!
User3 I love you!
User4 The pop princess is back!
User5 So hot!
User6 Best tour ever!
User7 anyone see Logan in the likes?!
User8 OMG YES! I SAW THE SAME THING!
User9 it’s probably because she is a famous American singer. And he followed her even before he got into f1 so he could just be a fan and if you look back he has liked almost all posts
User10 did you stalk?? How do you know?!
User9 I know stuff…
User10 ????!!!!!
User11 Mother!!
User12 💜💜
User13 So gorgeous!🫶
|———————————<3—————————————|
Real life
Being in a relationship with someone can be beautiful. And Y/n would know. The only thing that is annoying about it is when you have to keep it secret. And not that they HAVE to keep it secret, they just do. And if you are asking who is ‘they’ well it’s Logan and Y/n.
They love each other, they really do. But with her being a famous singer and him being a driver that is… struggling. So at the beginning of their relationship they decided to keep it a secret. Of course not from everyone, their family knew, Y/n team, Logan’s team (only a selected few by both). But the world, the fans? They had no clues. They didn’t even know they had partners. But they liked it like this. And they were going to continue like this for a long time… or that was the plan.
And that was all ruined when someone (Logan) couldn’t help but like the others post. So people begin speculating.
And at first they just said it was a celebrity crush, which they then kept rolling with. So the world and the other drivers al thought that Logan Hunter Sargeant had a crush on Y/n Y/l/n. And that was fine…
It was until the teasing comments from both the fans, media and the drivers begin. Every time Logan or someone plays Y/n’s music people looked at him with a teasing look or made comments about her. Even on the driver parades more of the drivers begin talking to him, but only to tease him about his ‘celebrity crush’ even some driver that he had barely spoken to before.
And the world thought that that was just it; Logan who had a crush on someone way out of his league and Y/n who existed not knowing who Logan was.
So when one day there was announced that there will be a special guest at Williams of all teams well that was a surprise to all. The team hadn’t revealed jet who it was, they wanted to keep it quit until the race day. But the guest was in the paddock the whole weekend, just a bit more hidden.
And that is how Y/n ended up in the back of the Williams garage while her boyfriend was racing, it was FP2 at the moment, so one of the first days.
But she wasn’t alone, Lilly (Alex’s girlfriend) was also there with her, keeping her company while their boyfriends were doing their job. And she really enjoyed her company, which wasn’t really a surprise. Lilly was a nice girl, and she was also a fan which was funny with how she reacted to the news that Logan was dating Y/n (which Alex told Logan and Logan told Y/n).
So now the two of them where talking in the back of the garage and looking at the screens to see how the boys where doing.
Alex was currently racing and Logan got to race in FP1, and it was going good (well how good it can be for William that is). Logan was also not with the girls but he was looking at all the data from the practise and the sim races he did before the weekend.
So after FP3 was done and Alex and Logan finished up the team meeting to talk about the practices Logan returned to the back to search for Y/n and so that they could go home. When he spotted her he immediately had a smile on his face and walked towards her.
“Hey how was it?” He asked his girlfriend when he arrived. He smiled and did a kind of wave to Lilly and she took the hint and began walking to Alex.
“It was great. I loved seeing you out on the track, in real life.” She said looking up at him and hugging him.
“Hmmm, I’m glad.” Logan said while kissing the top of her head. “Do you want to go back to the hotel? I’m all done here and maybe it’s good to get some rest before tomorrow.”
“Yeah that smart. Do you. We’d to grab anything from your drivers room?” She asked while looking up at him.
“Yeah a few things. You coming with me?” He asked while looking at the girl. She nodded and they both walked towards his room to grab the stuff. After they had everything they stayed inside for a bit longer to figure out how she can sneak out of the paddock without being seen.
They came up with the plan of them splitting up, Logan going through the usual exit, so that people can still see him and take pictures and that he can see fans, and Y/n going through a more hidden and exit with almost none to no one there so she can have a more secret exit and that she won’t be spotted.
So they separated with a kiss and they both went to their respective exits. Once they were both out of the paddock Logan went to his car and took a detour to pick Y/n up. Once they were both in the car they went back to the hotel.
When they opened the door to their room they decided to just orde some room service and then go to bed. While Logan was deciding what to order Y/n began to get ready for bed. After they had both decided what they wanted they ordered it and got ready while waiting.
When it arrived they set on a movie they could watch and ate while watching. After they hatched eaten they decided to talk about what they would do the next day.
“I think I will just stay here tomorrow.” Y/n said while putting their dirty dishes away.
“Okay. That’s fine. Why?” Logan asks leaning against the table.
“Well it Will be quit busy with qualifying so I thought it would be smart that I could just stay at the hotel and watch here. If that okay with you.” The girl asked while looking at her boyfriend.
“Yeah of course.” Logan said while grabbing his girlfriend’s hand. “If that what you want then that’s fine with me.” He said.
While they talked they asked towords their bedroom and did their night routine.
“Alright. So I will watch here tomorrow and then I will be in the graag for the race.” She said while looking at him. “Do you want to sleep? Get some rest for tomorrow.” She asked.
“Yeah that’s smart. Come cuddle with me.” He said while opening his arms so that she could climb in.
“Okay. But sleep. Please.” She said looking at her boyfriend.
“Of course love.” He said while they laid comfortable in bed. They closed their eyes and drifted to sleep.
|———————————<3—————————————|
The next day Logan chose to let Y/n sleep. He knew she as still tired from her shows so he decited to let her sleep and write a note. He set an alarm on her phone so that she could wake up on time and then left with the nite lying on the kitchen counter.
Once he arrived at the garage in the paddock Lily immediately came up to him asking where Y/n was. He explained it.
Once they were done with going over the strategy for qualifying he walked out to do a quick last minute track walk. Once he was walking a few people came up to him.
“Hey man how are you?” That was Lando. Logan didn’t know why he was talking to him, they never talked. Oscar also wasn’t there so that was extra weird, because every time Lando or another driver talked to him Alex or Oscar where with him. It was sad, for sure, but it was the reality that Logan was living. And he kind of liked it. It was quite and he had a lot of time to himself, and that way it was easier to hide his relationship with you.
“I’m good. You?” He asked trying to be polite and not sound confused. Because that is what he was, confused. Why was Lando talking to him? And not only Lando, no, Carlos and Charles were also there. Because where Lando goes, Carlos goes and where valies goes, Charles goes. That is how it works.
“Yeah we’re fine.” Lando replied for him and the other drivers. “So I have a question.” Lando said getting straight to the point.
“What is it?” Logan asked. He was still confused with all this, but it was undoubtedly going to make more sense once he knew the question.
“I heard you’re single?” Lando said. And before Logan could reply Lando had already continue talking. “Well I have this friend, she’s American . And she said that you’re cute, so I offered to set you up. So you have a date tomorrow evening.” Lando said, getting straight to the point again. Behind him were Carlos and Charles looking amused, wanting to know how this was going to turn out.
Now it made sense to Logan. He wanted something from him. Logan thought about his wander for a bit, should he say he had a girlfriend? Would they believe him? He knows he isn’t going on that date, no way. Y/n would like it. But she also wouldn’t like if he jay said that they were dating. But he didn’t have to say that it was her… so he came up with the plan.
“No thank you.” He said and then walked away. Yeah… that was the master plan. Just say no and walk away. Of course it didn’t go as he had wished, because Lando immediately followed, Carlos and Charles trailing slowly behing. Wearing amused smiles with how this was going.
“Wait what? I thought you want someone? Who wants to be single? She’s a really nice girl, very cute too. You two would get along.” Lando ranted while quickly catching up with him. Logan didn’t to look as amused as the other boys.
“Sound like you want het more.” Lando said back to Lando. He tried look for anyone else in the track so that he could escape from this conversation.
“No. I havo a girlfriend. Why don’t you want to go?” Lando said accidentally exposing himself, he ding notice. To busy with wondering why Logan didn’t want to go on a date with his friend.
“Who said I was single?” Logan asked again. Avoiding to sensed why he didn’t want to go on a date.
“Well everyone. The driver, mechanic, even some of your team, and basically everyone on the internet.” Lando said revealing his sources.
“Well you believe them? You know how many tongues there are. And there is a lot of gossip going around track. And as you said, people also think you are single. So why also me?” Logan said making Lando and the other 2 think. He took that time to quickly walk away. He finished his walk and then immediately returned to the garage, wanting to see if Y/n was awake and had messaged him.
She did. She said goodmoring and good luck. Once Logan read that he decited to train some more and then get ready for qualifying.
After qualifying Y/n had messaged Logan. He got p13! It wasn’t the best but it was okay.
Logan did the post qualifying interviews and then a last debrief if the day. He then returned to his car, not after taking pictures with fans and signing a few things. He saw some people with his stuff on, he always got happy about that. It showed him that he was important, that people liked him, and even tough he had a change of losing his seat, that he had made it into f1 and that people saw him as a good driver. He took a quick picture to show it to Y/n when he got back. She would be proud. She always is.
And before he got the change to step in his car someone called out his name. The someone being Lando. He was there, again. Logan already had a suspicion about what it was going to be, but he had hope that the McLaren driver just came there for a friendly chat. That wasn’t the case.
“Jo Logan. Can you tell me if you want to go on that date or not? And why not? Cause the girl keeps asking about it and I want her to know.” Lando asked apr och ing him. And with that, all his hoped have disappeared, and instead there came the wanting to go home to his girlfriend.
“As I already said. No I don’t want to go. And I don’t want to go because I am already in a really happy relationship. So if you can just stop with asking me and just let me return to my girlfriend, then I would greatly appreciate that.” Logan said kind of snappy. He opened his car door and sat down. He looked at Lando one time, who was looking quite shocked, and then smalend the door shut, he was going to regret that later. He started the car and drove away to his hotel to his girlfriend.
Once he got back he immediately told her everything that had happened that day. Keeping the part about Lando and his question for last so that she could react to that (she always waited for him to stop with his story before talking. He did the same, that was the way their relationship worked). To say she was shocked was understandable. But surprisingly she wasn’t jealous (despite what some of her songs say), no, she was more angry. Not at Logan, but at Lando. For only talking to her boyfriend about that. He always felt bad that no one on the grid besides Oscar and Alex talks to him (the other sometimes talking to him but that beung ‘forced’ by the other two boys or their teams) and then now talking only for this.
After he got all that of of his chest and Y/n had helped him and talked to him Logan wanted to talk about something else. “What if we just hard launch tomorrow?” He asks a bit nervous.
Y/n laughed a bit at how nerveus he is. It’s like their first date all over. “Yeah, if that’s what you want. But I don’t only want it to be because you want to prove something. I want it to be because you want it. Because I’m totally okay with it.” She says.
“Okay. Then that’s the plan. Would you want to walk with me in the paddock? Or do you want to do it after the race?” Logan asked wanting you to come up with a plan.
“Maybe after? I think it would be fun to see people try and figure out why I am Williams.” She said.
“Aright. That’s good.” Logan said.
After those conversations they got to bed early so that they were well rested the next day.
|———————————<3—————————————|
The next day Y/n and Logan woke up and got ready for the day (with Y/n helping Logan pick out his clothes (the girlfriend effect is real)). Logan took his car and Y/n took another with her driver driving her (that so they could drive back to the hotel together).
They walked in separately, y/b also going a bit later. Once she entered the paddock a lot of people want crazy, she was quite well know after all, a lot of people where wondering why she was there, where was she staying, and why was it not announces
She walked around while people took pictures and a few fans walked towards her asking for pictures and autographs.
What she also noticed is that quite allot of drivers also looked at her. She heard from Logan that a few of them liked her musics and where trying to get tickets for her show. He even said that some of them had a crush on her. But she didn’t expect it like this; them awkwardly looking at her just silently. She also saw some of them asking their team principal if she would stay with them, the answer being no.
While she took longer than initially thought walking to the garage, that being because of fans and reporters wanted her attention. And all the way of her walking to Williams people where filming and camera’s where on her.
When she entered, well let’s just say she saw the shock on some faces. But they had expected it.
The girl spent a almost half an hour almost unbothered (beside Logan annoying her, the same with Alex and Lily and some other people and guests at Williams). But then the chaos began. She walked out of the garage to get some food and then she was them; a few of the drivers where talking, more like gossiping. And when they saw her they immediately stopped. That’s when Lewis, who was is the group, walked up to her. They had met before so she expected him to come talk to her sometime.
“Hey Y/n. How are you? I didn’t know you would come.” He said trying to make some small talk while also trying to figure out why she was at Williams and not at a different… better… garage.
“Hey Lewis. Good to see you. I’m great, quite busy but it’s amazing. But yeah, I thought it would be fun to come see a race sometimes.” She said, she knew what he wanted to know, but she wanted him to ask directly instead of her just telling him.
“Yeah great. I heard the tour is going good?” He asked.
“Yeah, it’s going amazing. I’m so proud of it. It really is a nee milestone in my career.” She said gappy to talk about her tour.
“Yeah, amazing. I saw some things of it. It looks really cool.” The 7 time world champion said.
“Yeah it is. If you want to go sometimes I could get you some tickets. Just say when and where.” She said. Hoping that he would take her op on the offer. She had always been an f1 fan, so it would be amazing is her and her boyfriends hero would like to go to her tour.
“Yeah, that would be amazing. I will message you sometime. I have some friends who really want to see you but didn’t get tickets.” He said. He still wanted to know why Williams?
“Great. I hope you will enjoy it. So are you ready for the race?” The singer responded.
“Oh yeah. I’m ready to see how it’s going to go. Hopefully get some points and maybe even podium.” Lewis said.
“Oh yeah, that would be great.” The girl said.
“So… Why are you at Williams?” Lewis asked. Finally, he got to the long awated question. He still tried to be respectful as he said it.
“Well. I guess I just wanted to be in a garage of a team like. And I suppose that is Williams.” She said. Trying to be as nonchalant as possible. He didn’t believe her. Almost nobody was a Williams fan, and maybe there were, but not a A-list celebrity.
“Alright. I can respect that.” He said. The conversation was starting to get awkward. So Y/n decided to end the torture.
“I’m glad. Well I guess I have to go. It was great to speek with you gain, let me know about those tickets.” She said. While they said their last goodbyes she walked back into the garage, she knew she wasn’t going to get her food, so she just gave up. She turned around one last time in the garage to see where Lewis was. He was retelling the conversation to the other curious drivers. Of course he was. F1 is basically gossip on weeks. So after looking for a bit longer she walked farther innige garens towards Logan’s driving room to tell him all about her conversation. She liked gossip as well.
|———————————<3—————————————|
The race was well… surprising… some might say.
It began … okay. But it was the end that shocked everyone.
In the race both Ferraris and one of the Williams DNF’d. Just not the one you might expect.
Because thanks to his… great, qualifying. Logan could go further and further until he was in the top 5.
That was when it got scary. The car had a few problems but that would be something to discuss later. Logan took a quick pitstop while safety car was out, and with that he made it to P3.
He stayed there for a long time. Until…
In the last few laps he had a battle with Lando. They got back and forth for the 2bd place. Both teams being quite … surprised. McLaren didnt expect for Williams, well Logan, to be such a thread. And Williams didn’t expect for Logan to do such a great job and actually get an interesting race out of the shit car they made.
So when at the last lap one of the drivers finally gained some speed and put a few millie seconds between them the team was well… releaved.
There he was, Logan Sargeant. Formula 1 driver for Williams, second year, his first ever podium. And that being second?!
Well let’s just say he let a few tears slip. He felt a lot of emotions; happiness, love, adrenaline and acceptance. He heard the crowd cheating, his team running to congratulate him. You coming to congratulate him. He felt like he was finally accepted as an legitimate Formula 1 driver, not just someone that was in the sport but wasn’t talented. He knew what he had to do.
So he ran to his team and immediately searched fir you. There you where; at the from at the barrier with the team around you. He walked- more like rubbed- towards you and looked at you for a second. Almost like asking permission. You nodded. He kissed you. In front of everyone. This would be your hard launch, after him finishing P2 at the Canadian Grand Prix.
You two heard cameras going wild. You pulled apart and he was immediately greeted by his team congratulating him. While he was doing that you looked at the other drivers. They where shocked. Lando looked like he had seen a ghost. So he did have a girlfriend, and that was you?! He couldn’t believe it. A few of the others where just shocked because 1. They didn’t know Logan was seeing someone. And 2. HOW DID HE PULL YOU?!?!
You just ignored it and looked at your boyfriend. After he was done with his team he began the interview and then the cool-down room. With both Max and Lando congratulating him on his great driving skills.
After that they did the podium ceremony, with the Dutch national anthem playing. When they did the champagne spraying both of tej other drivers sprayed on him before spraying their teams.
After the podium he interviews and then he did a team debrief. When he was down he same to his drivers room. He said a quick help to his girlfriend before talking a quick shower to wash the champagne off.
Once he was clothed again they walked towards his car, hand in hand. They where reveals to the world so they could do that now. They drove back to the hotel for a quick fresh up befriended going to a club Max invited them to to celebrate the win. After partying for a bit they returned to the hotel and talked some more before going to sleep.
They had doen it, they had followed their dreams. Y/n was a world famous sing and songwriter and was touring her newest album. And Logan, he was a Formula 1 driver. Finally with a podium. And while he would lose his Williams seat for the next year, he gained a new one. Because Mercedes got ahold of his data and wanted him. So they got him a good car and he won, more and more and more and more and, well you get it now. He even won 2 championships.
And Y/n eventually got a level of fame no one could even think of (think of Taylor swift level). They got married and had a family that would leave a legacy that would go on forever. The Sargeant-L/n family was a family of all talented people. From F1 drivers, to singers, to poets, to footballers. They would forever be known as one of the greatest families. All because of Logan and Y/n.
|———————————<3—————————————|
Instagram
Tumblr media
Liked by Logan_Sargeant and 5.826.837 others
Yourusername Everyone meet my boyfriend! This is @Logan_Sargeant; a Formula 1 driver, a photographer, a professional boyfriend and someone I help style (the girlfriend effect is real guys!). Be nice to him be just got his first podium and a new contract!
View all 16.837 comments
Logan_Sargeant How… nice of you ??
Yourusername Yes!
User1 I love them already😭
User2 can we just talk about the kiss?!?! It was INSANE!
User3 this was NOT on my 2034 bingo card.
User4 what is it with pop singers dating sport men all if a sudden?! First Taylor and Travis, then Sabrina and Barry (he’s a boxer), and now Y/n and Logan?!?!
User5 anyone noticed how Logan suddenly passed 5 million followers on insta and the whole grid is following him?!
User6 OMG YES! I notices this too! It is actually kind of sad if you think about it…
User7 Cutsey couple ever!
User8 The outfits always eat! So happy we now get to see more paddock outfits!
User9 Y/n is a WAG! I repeat Y/n is a WAG! Everyone evacuate! The hate will come soon!
User10 gold digger
User9 ?!?!?!?!⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️
User11 I need this
User12 We need a Logangpt and have that just be all the pictures he takes of Y/n
User13 I see the boyfriend effect. It is THERE
|———————————<3—————————————|
668 notes · View notes
bluepeachstudios · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
So. Cass' Apocalyptic Series by @somerandomdudelmao just ended.
I have many emotions none of which I can properly convey through words or anything. CAS itself has been a continuing beacon of creative light that's been lovely to see progress, and has inspired me through so many things, and I could go on about it but I cannot get into it without crying so I won't, I hope the sentiment comes across.
Cass did fanart of Ghost in the Shell HERE. It was like. I dunno. The third or fourth drawing of GitS I'd gotten from someone else? And the fact that Cass of all people had done it was like, wild to me at the time. I was still kind of reeling from the fact that people even liked my work at all? But Cass said it was good and I was like "oh damn must be good then" and kept writing. She also did THIS animation of Ghost which I still cry at whenever I watch it it's fine.
THEN THE PEEPAW POLLS HAPPENED. OH LORD. I made so many friends. I met so many people through that. I've never. In my life had this many people I could just talk to at any time. I never knew what to say either so I ended up just hanging out and getting dragged wherever the wind took me. It got me into doing polls in general!
Ghost made it to the FINAL ROUND??? Still confused about that. Then Uncle Tello won and Cass did a comic and I wrote something and I cried when I read the comic and I was still kind of processing so I ended up drawing something as well.
Then the next time GitS and CAS met was at the TMNT AU competition. It happened. Like almost DIRECTLY after Uncle Tello died in CAS so I was processing again and I do that through Ghost apparently so I drew a lil comic and wrote a lil somethin.
And then they never met again! But I like to think that some version of Ghost somewhere got to see the end.
GitS Part 2 has been kinda hard for me to write. I had to take a big break from it due to health stuff, and getting back into writing it wasn't as easy as before. And even after Part 2 is over, I still have the movie to do. My interest in TMNT is never going away, even after GitS I have other projects I want to finish, and that I've wanted to work on while writing GitS, but. y'know.
I'm determined to finish it. Drawing an x on my wrist. I really want to give Ghost the ending I've been imagining. And Cass has been someone really cool to look up to while I've been working on that.
So. Yeah. If Cass can get to the good ending, maybe I can do it too.
Love you Cass. Thanks for everything!
2K notes · View notes
pickingupmymercedes · 5 months ago
Text
Boy from Stevenage - Lewis Hamilton
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: none, tooth rooting fluff, Lewis being vulnerable
wordcount: +1K
a/n: Felt like fluff was due, so totally self-indulgent nonsense I wrote after hearing bits of his speach for his GQ Awards.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
______________________________________________________________
You leaned against the doorway as Lewis moved restlessly across the room, his brow furrowed with concentration. A braid kept falling into his face, and he kept tucking it behind his ear. He muttered to the reflection in the mirror, his expression serious as he practiced his speech for the GQ Awards ceremony, rehearsing it with the same intensity he would study race tracks.
A smile tugged at your lips. It was endearing, this nervous energy that usually only manifested before a race, and that so few got to see, filling the master bathroom of his NYC apartment. Tonight, however, the only race was against his stubborn desire to perfectly deliver his message.
When he finally sighed in frustration, you decided to fully enter the room. He caught your reflection in the mirror, and his face softened, the tension momentarily lessened.
"Hey," you tilted your head, offering a small smile.
He straightened, taking a deep breath. "Hi. How long have you been there?"
You shrugged, reaching for the fingers that gripped the marble. "A minute or two. Just… watching the master at work."
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "More like a nervous wreck."
He gestured vaguely to the crumpled paper clutched in his hand. "Do you think it's alright? I don't want to sound… pompous."
You reached out for him, turning his face to look him in the eye, your fingers smoothing the worry lines on his brow with your thumb. "Lewis," you started, your voice soft. "Nobody's going to think you're pompous. They're going to be captivated."
His eyes, the warm brown that stole your breath every time, met yours with a glint of nervousness. "You really think so?"
A soft smile and chuckle spread through your features. It was a challenge, putting your admiration for him into words. You weren’t one for grand gestures or over-the-top declarations. It was in the quiet moments, the shared understanding, the unspoken language that existed only between the two of you that you showed him how much he meant to you.
"They'll all be in love with you," you finally said, a loving spark in your eyes. "Just like I am."
He chuckled, a hint of relief washing over him. "Smooth, (Y/N)."
You took his hand, gently pulling him away from the mirror. "Come on," you said, urging him towards the plush armchair in the bedroom nestled by the window. "Let's forget about speeches for a while."
He followed willingly, sinking into the chair with a sigh as he dragged you down with him. You settled on his lap, pulling your legs comfortably on top of his on the stool. The city lights became a shimmering backdrop to your comfortable silence.
"I’m really proud of you," your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers danced on his chest and he looked out the window.
His hand automatically sought yours. You squeezed gently. "More than you can imagine," you admitted.
"Sometimes it all feels a bit overwhelming," he confessed, his voice raw. "The platform, the attention, the expectation to be a voice for everything."
"You don't have to be a voice for everything, though," you countered, your voice firm as he locked his gaze on your intertwined fingers. "But what you do choose to speak up about… that's what makes me so proud."
He looked at you, his eyes searching your face. "Even the stuff that makes some people uncomfortable?"
You let out a proud smile and a knowing giggle. "Especially those. You use your platform to speak when others won’t."
He squeezed your hand, gratitude evident in his tone and his eyes. "Maybe you should be writing the speeches after all."
You laughed, a soft sound that filled the room. "You just need to be reminded that you're Lewis Hamilton, not a nervous rookie on his first podium."
You leaned your head against his shoulder, his arms embracing you as he turned his head, placing a soft kiss on your temple. "Thank you, love. But we really need to get going," he whispered, just before he picked you up and put you back down on the armchair, heading back to the bathroom.
As Lewis got in the shower, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the crumpled speech in his hand. You knew he wasn't one to brag about his achievements, but a part of you yearned to understand the weight of the words he was struggling with.
Carefully, you reached out and picked up the paper. It was filled with Lewis's handwriting, edits scrawled across some lines. You scanned the opening, your heart swelling. It wasn't about self-praise or glorifying his victories. It was a heartfelt dedication to the countless individuals who had supported him on his journey, from his early days karting in Stevenage until now.
He spoke of his family, the unwavering pillar behind him, their sacrifices paving the way for his dreams. He mentioned his mentors and heroes, those who had nurtured his talent and those who had inspired him to push to be his best. He even acknowledged his rivals, the competitors that had honed his skills and fueled his relentless pursuit of excellence.
But then, there was a section that was heavily underlined, a paragraph riddled with question marks and crossed-out phrases. It was about the kids that he hoped to have inspired.
He wrote about the grounding effect they had on his own path. He spoke of how he, too, was an impressionable young boy, wishing for something greater.
You knew sometimes Lewis struggled to express his emotions openly, yet here he was, trying to articulate the depth of what it meant to him to be put on the same pedestal as his heroes.
It was the written proof of how much this award, how much this entire platform, meant to him – a chance to not just be Lewis Hamilton, the champion, but Lewis, the boy who had aimed for the stars and received the moon as a gift.
A soft chuckle escaped your lips. You pictured the faces in the opulent ballroom, expecting a typical self-congratulatory speech from the motorsport legend. The surprise on their faces when Lewis poured his heart out, his voice thick with a vulnerability they wouldn't have anticipated, would be priceless.
He may be a titan on the racetrack, but here, in the quiet intimacy of the apartment, he was simply Lewis, the man who might fumble with expressing his emotions but whose actions spoke volumes.
As you two rode in the backseat towards the gala, the city lights morphing into a mesmerizing dance of colors, you snuggled closer to Lewis, his steady breathing a comforting rhythm.
"Hey," you whispered, tracing a finger across the back of his hand.
He jolted out of his thoughts, his eyes looking for yours. "Hmm?"
"You know," you began, searching for the right words, "you don't need to win over that entire room tonight. You just need to make that brave boy from Stevenage proud."
______________________________________________________________
TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28
@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld
@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff
If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.
567 notes · View notes
littlegrapejuice · 1 month ago
Text
A Trophy And A Ring | LN4
Tumblr media
Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Lando wins the Singapore Grand Prix and you have a surprise planned for his third victory, leading him to finish the race with two rewards.
Author's Note: ok so i reeeaaallyyyy wanted to write for the less popular drivers but i thought of this a couple days after lando won singapore so here we are :)) kinda had a writer's block on this one so it's shorter than other stuff i wrote but i find it cute<3
The 2024 Singapore Grand Prix.
Second fastest in FP1, then fastest in both FP2 and FP3.
Pole position.
He was still ahead when they reached the first corner. And the second. And every other that followed.
After leading every lap and passing the chequered flag with a twenty seconds gap, Lando Norris was a three-times race winner.
This time, the fireworks were for him.
…..
It was always a good feeling when you were called in to do the post-race interviews, but even better when you got to interview your boyfriend after a victory. And when you thought about the little surprise you had planned for him, your smile expanded even more as you were beyond excited for Lando’s reaction. Before that could happen though, you had to interview Oscar and Max who completed the podium. They were both aware of your plan, and despite wishing they could’ve won the race, they were glad to know what was awaiting Lando for succeeding today.
‘Good luck’, they had both said to you when you were done talking to them. And now, this was the moment. Lando walked towards you after Max gave him the mic. He had such a pretty smile, your only thought was to kiss him right now. However, you had to keep it professional for a bit before you could put your grand plan in motion.
“Lando, congratulations on your third victory of the season! Can you talk me through today and how does racing with a dominant car feel?”
“Hi”, he simply said with the same happy smile he always arboured when facing you. “Thank you! It was an amazing race despite a few too many close calls”, he added with a laugh. “You know, I had a couple of little moments in the middle. But yeah, the car was incredible. I could push and we were flying the whole race, so yeah, it was very nice.”
“Are you okay? You seem out of breath.” Your girlfriend mode could only override the interviewer mode as you could hear Lando had trouble speaking.
“I’m fine, don’t worry. It was tough but all good”, he reassured you.
“The gap at the end, do you know what it was?”
“Yeah, like close to twenty seconds I think?” Lando wondered to which you nodded.
“That’s it,” you confirmed. “As you admitted yourself, you were sometimes really close to the wall – did you actually need to be pushing that hard given this gap that you had?”
“I mean, this wasn’t necessarily over pushing you know? I just wanted to have the biggest lead possible and not just a one second lead”, he explained.
“One second that kept you in front for the whole race after you pitted”, you stated.
“This was great indeed. See why I need the biggest gap possible?” You smiled at that which made Lando chuckle. “But yeah, I’m happy to get the maximum points today and to have Osc on the podium as well, he drove really well today so this was a very good day for the team also.”
“You’re now a three-times race winner, fantastic victory.”
“Thanks”, he replied before looking away. It seemed that even after being with you for so long, he was still blushing and becoming nervous whenever you’d compliment him.
“Last question before I let you go, okay?” Lando nodded and you tried to subtly put your hand in your pocket to get what you needed. “Well, there are actually two but it's the same thing. So do you know how we say the third time’s a charm?”
“Of course”, Lando said. “It’s my third victory and you’re here, so that means you were my good-luck charm.”
“Not exactly the compliment I was fishing for, but thank you.” With a look to the side, Oscar understood that this was the moment and approached you. He took the mic from you – but kept it at your level – while you finally pulled out a small box from your pocket. “So, we’ve been together for three years now and as we’ve been saying, this is the third time you win a race. Therefore I have a little gift for you.”
Lando was a bit confused at your words, until he wasn’t anymore when you got down on one knee. Oscar followed by squatting down next to you, so you could still keep talking into the mic �� this was very much needed as the crowd began cheering so loud that Lando would’ve had a hard time hearing you otherwise.
“Lando”, you called to him before deeply inhaling. “Six years in Formula One, six poles, and three wins. Would you do the honour of marrying me, even though I don’t even have my driving licence?”
Unable to speak, Lando could only nod before he pulled you up so that you could stand in front of him. He cleared his throat in order to find his voice again, and was finally able to answer your question.
“I will absolutely marry you, yes! Even if you’re my passenger princess ‘till we die.”
“Wow, that’s very generous of you.” You let out a chuckle which made Lando smile.
Right now, the camera was focused on Lando’s fond expression which enabled the thousands of people present at the track as well as the thousand others watching from home to see how in love the man was with you.
Stepping back, you were now taking the ring from its box before slipping it on Lando’s finger while he looked down at the gesture. He was close to tears and he could feel his eyes start watering from the emotion. Noticing, you quickly wiped his cheeks and as you still had your hands cradling his face, you figured it was a good time to pull him down in a kiss to celebrate your engagement. He immediately kissed back while pulling you closer to him as his hands instinctively reached for your hips.
When you both pulled away, you and Lando hugged for a few seconds before you remembered you were still on camera with thousands of people watching your every move. After separating from your now fiancé, you got pulled into a hug from Oscar who was still next to you. One by one, the drivers went to congratulate you and Lando. Along with Max and Oscar, a couple others had been aware of your proposal and they had known what to expect if they were part of the podium when Lando’s third win was to happen.
After everyone had cheered for your and Lando’s engagement, the drivers could finally get ready for the podium while you could step down from your journalist duties and entirely focus on being a loving WAG.
…..
“So, how do you feel about winning both a trophy and a ring?” Oscar asked Lando when the two got into the cooldown room with Max.
“I’d say this is the best Grand Prix of my life”, Lando replied while looking down with a lovesick smile at the ring you had placed on his ring finger.
“And which one will you remember when someone mentions Singapore?” Max teased as he already knew the answer.
“The ring obviously,” Lando immediately said as he didn’t have to hesitate. “I can get more trophies in the future, but my girl– fiancée giving me a ring is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”
Smiling at Lando’s words, Oscar and Max were truly happy that you’d had the courage to propose in such a meaningful and public way – and they were also internally wishing you good luck in order to put up with Lando for God knows how many more years.
“Should I do the engagement party next time I win?” Lando wondered.
“NO!” Max and Oscar both answered.
“Wow, okay, fine.” Lando put his hands up in defence.
“First: you’re crazy if you think we’re letting you win one more time during this season”, Max argued. “Second: I’m sure she’d rather celebrate it in a more private setting.” Max knew you well and was certain today’s level of PDA wasn’t going to happen again before a while.
“Yeah”, Oscar agreed. “She loves you mate, but this was already a lot coming from her.”
“Damn, I get it. It was just a joke, don’t worry.”
“I’ll text her about it just to warn her”, Max added.
“Man it’s fine,” Lando sighed but still smiled at his friends’ words. “The idea is gone already, we’re good.”
Switching the conversation topic to the actual race they had done, the drivers simply waited to be called to the podium while watching some highlights shown to them on the screen.
One by one they then went outside under the fans’ cheers until it was Lando’s turn. As he was mindlessly waving at the people in parc fermé, his gaze was focused on its own task: locating you. And when he did, his mind was at peace. You were looking up at him with so much love in your eyes, Lando was still finding it hard to believe that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.
He could only think about how lucky he was to have you in his life, and he promised himself that he would always do his best to make you a happy wife and an even happier woman.
When it was time for the trophies to be handed out, Lando’s first reaction was to dedicate it to you as he pointed in your direction before showing off his hand with the finger that was harbouring the ring you had given him. After Lando, along with Max and Oscar, did the celebration – Lando obviously doing his signature champagne pop, pictures were being taken as the three drivers got next to each other. His eyes finding you once again, Lando winked at you when he saw you had taken your phone out to take a photo of your winner. Your only response was to blow him a kiss before you started to join the applause and cheers still going on around you.
You though about how you could watch him race forever; you knew how happy it made him – and you as well – but he was always even happier to win, especially when you were here to support him. You would never realise it though, but racing would never make him happier than being with you.
If a choice were to be made – you or his career, you’d think he'd choose his career, but he’d choose you in a heartbeat. In every universe, over and over again. He’d choose you.
..........
Hope y'all enjoyed this!! I'll fr do my best to try and write for other drivers that are less written about but as a papaya girlie (in a landoscar way not mclaren way) I'm v happy i got to do a lil lando fic
See you god knows when (unfortunately not even god knows bc idk myself lol) and good luck for surviving the last week and a half of break🫶🏻
318 notes · View notes
lamamasjamas · 4 months ago
Note
Can you write a fic where gn reader finally washes Qimir’s greasy hair after he comes home from a sith mission. Thanks ❤️
Late Night
Tumblr media
A/n: Thank you for the request! ❤️ For context, Reader has no idea Qimir is a force user and assumes he’s just some guy that makes potions. Also I was eepy when I wrote the last part and I’m yearning for my ld bf so…
Warnings: A little heated (of the sexual type), but it’s fluffy and cute! Some angst and stuff too. 🤭
The night was still young. You were in bed, looking up towards the ceiling, the candlelight at the tonic shop's entrance still illuminating into the corner of the room further inside and past the counter.
You kept the curtain to the bed bunk open so he would come in at his leisure. Most times he was still in his soiled robes and got into bed next to you. He claimed he was too tired to wake you, or even freshen up.
You'd wake up to his hand lightly placed over your shoulder.
Sometimes your side or stomach. Sometimes squeezing, as if he wanted you closer.
But you weren't anything but a colleague. You watched over his small business whenever he was out for "ingredient collection". He was a sort of boss to you. A friend at most.
You think, considering you barely knew anything about him and yet he knew everything about you.
You often wondered where he even found such rare materials and why he'd come back so grimy.
The front door opened and the first thing you saw as you sat up was his back. You were rarely awake by the time he came back from his travels. You rubbed your eyes clean of sleep quickly and stood as quietly as you could.
But it was like he could sense you awake, he turned to you with a smile on his face, pulling his hood down to his shoulders and lifting the baggy of some root he needed for a medicine playfully.
The first thing you do is cringe, his smile falters. His hair was always a mess. He knew that himself.
You point to the washroom and rush to get a bar of soap and a rag from the drawer above his bunk before he could come any closer to his bed.
...
"What do you expect to find, exactly?"
Your lips twitch and curl in mild disgust, the strands of his hair separate from how drenched they were in dirt, oils and sweat.
"A snee nest," you muttered.
His head was leaned back against the tub, the water below steaming and warm. His eyes were closed, and a faint smile was adorning his face as he breathed in and out deeply. It reminded you of when he was napping, and no one happened to walk into the store for a couple hours.
It was relatively silent. As it usually was for you around him.
It irritated you how little he spoke with you. Then again, you weren't one to partake in conversation. But neither was Mae.
Sure, he joked and had his quirks with you. But with Mae? He was practically a chatterbox. She obviously didn't reciprocate his enthusiasm though, ever.
You refuse to ask why she would come to the shop and ask to speak to him privately every other week. You didn't want to know.
You stare at his brows, his eyelids and the bridge of his nose as your hands massage his scalp gently, using a cup to scoop water and pour it over his hair.
Your gaze led to his lips. They stay there. You didn't even notice that he was staring back up at you and that your hands had stopped their movements.
"You always do that."
You startle and pull away in surprise, but his hand grips your wrist to keep your fingers pressed against his head.
"Sorry-“
He quirks a brow and smirks, his eyes trying to connect with yours.
“what are you talking about?" you stutter at his intense gaze.
You pull away again, confused. He sits up quickly, his damp hair dripping and spraying you lightly with droplets. His tunic dampens and he crowds you as he leans closer.
He holds you in place by not letting go of your hand. He knew you would have been several feet away if he didn’t have you in his hold.
"You always... stare."
His fingers tap at the pulse of your wrist at your silence. His eyes roam over your face, his head tilts. He wanted you to respond.
“No…” your eyes bounce around the room briefly. You feel childish denying what was so obvious.
“I don’t,” you mutter, half embarrassed from being caught and half upset he even brought it up. It wasn’t his business if you stared anyway.
“I’m not dense-“
“Maybe you are,” you retort quickly, swallowing thickly after a beat as you realize that he was still your boss and you had in fact indirectly called him dense.
His laugh booms across the room. For a second you are mortified, but then you’re enthralled by his chortle. It was infectious.
You could feel yourself smile and huff, your shoulders losing their stiffness. He loosened his grip on you and allowed your hands to fall to his lap.
He sighed as his chuckles died down, he leaned closer.
“What are you hiding?” His eyes flicker to your lips. “Talk to me…”
In that moment you reminded him of a hare, skittish, cautious but very observant and curious. Stubborn to a degree. He felt you pull into him like a magnet, still unsure but very wanting.
Your noses brushed and before you could cower away he whispered.
“Show me.”
The kiss was short. He stayed still, waiting for you, his eyes gently roaming over your face as you lingered on his lips afterwards as you separated.
It was like he knew what you were going to do. What you’ve been wanting to do for a while. You yourself had barely made that discovery it seemed.
He was patient enough to wait for you to lean in for another kiss... then another... then another.
Until you had no choice but to make a small noise as his hand reached behind your neck to pull you impossibly closer.
One hand reaches your hip, the other cupping your head firmly. Your own hands move up from his lap to his chest.
He groans in approval and he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, his knee coming between your kneeled thighs.
You didn’t know whose tongue slipped first. All you knew was that it sent an electrifying feeling down your chest to you belly, your belly to your core.
His hand roamed to the swell of your ass and pushed you down onto his thigh roughly. He swallowed your moans, he wanted to devour you completely.
Your hand thread throughout his hair as if they were braided together. Droplets of water glided down your arm as a result.
His mouth followed, his tongue darting out to collect the drops greedily. You let him claw at your tunic, struggling to pull it up your shoulders to get the last drops, desperate to lick your skin clean.
One hand slithered to cup you, his hand grinding down upon your center and distracting you from the way his struggling grip on your tunic caused it to rip and expose your upper half.
The shop door slides opens quickly. The sound of a cold gust of wind makes you tense, immediately making you pull away.
His head jumps from being nestled between your shoulder and neck and he flips you to lay down below him on the tile.
The realization of your current position and state of being finally catches up to you. You could hear Mae call for him.
You feel something stiff poke at your soft stomach. A heady moan escapes your lips unexpectedly as you glance down and realize it was his swollen crotch. His hand covers your mouth quickly, his eyes neither scolding or concerned but very frustrated at the intrusion.
He calls out that he was in the fresher loudly. Mae huffs and groans as he calls out again a beat after, stating he’d be out in a minute.
He sits up and presses his finger to his lip then places it against yours with a smirk. Your eyes flutter at his touch.
The door opens and closes quick enough to allow you to see the shop lights now on.
They weren’t close enough to hear. Most noises were murmurs and mumbles. Teasing remarks made by Qimir about how he would require extra payment for the nightly visit.
The shop’s doors open and close after a couple of minutes. He comes in to see you staring at your half torn tunic, resting against the tub with half lidded eyes.
The exhilaration from before was gone and replaced by drowsiness. It was almost sunrise and you had yet to get a full nights sleep.
His crouches down before you and lifts you. For a second you question how a potions shop owner could carry you with such ease.
The sight of the bed made you quickly forget and lean against his chest. Your hands are lightly placed over his bicep as if you were afraid of him losing his grip and letting you fall.
You woke up that same afternoon with his head buried in your neck and his arms wound around your waist.
His even breaths lulled you to sleep. You snorted weakly at the sight of his hair before falling back into slumber with him.
Despite your efforts, his hair still looks like it could do with a wash. You’d bathe him properly, you thought.
—————
A/n: Reblogs and Comments appreciated! 💋❤️
634 notes · View notes