#he does have the stage presence for it
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goosegooserevolution · 10 months ago
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Mr. Compress is such a fun character to play around with because I can make him do basically anything and it would make sense.
He just referenced Don Quixote and made a big deal out of it when he realized nobody understood what he was talking about? Makes sense, I could see him being a literature nerd.
He was loudly explaining how to safely have gay sex to Spinner when he caught him staring at Shigaraki for a little too long? Classic Compress.
He knows a disturbing amount of communist and anarchist theory, and has been waiting for the day to apply it? Of course he has!
The only thing that would be slightly unbelievable is him being a runway model in the past. The rest of the League reasons he just doesn't have the stage presence for it.
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widevibratobitch · 6 months ago
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so what that i slept in for the exam. my voice teacher just called to talk about yesterdays concert and said some truly insane shit that made me cry again (but like. in a good way lol) so who even gives a shit lol
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carnivorous-arboretum · 10 months ago
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welcome home.
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molkolsdal · 2 months ago
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Saw The Killers on September 10th and it was truly magical ✨️
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crmsndragonwngss · 1 day ago
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By Blood and Iron
(2007 - 2010)
Alright guys, as some of you may or may not know, By Blood and Iron does not play shows anymore. We all agreed back in the summer of 2009 to chill out and do our own things for awhile. We were all too busy to carry on with this band right now. Whether we do anything again in the future is undecided, i guess we'll just have to wait around and see how things play out.
As for our music, you can download it here 
If we haven't been responding to your messages and comments, we apologize, it is because none of us hardly check this myspace anymore. If you want to hear new music from us, then you can check out me and Alex's new band, Erra. Also Chop's band Only In Somnolence. You can find us on the top friends of this page.
(via last.fm, from MySpace)
Demo 08:
youtube
youtube
Demo 09:
youtube
youtube
youtube
Thanks again, anon, for bringing this to my attention!
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roastedsoup · 21 days ago
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listening to I Can’t Feel The Sun and trying to think of who this sound reminds me of. the red jumpsuit apparatus maybe? drums aren’t quite as pop punky but the vocals are very similar antighost is so good :3
i think they have a lot of grunge and influence going on as well as pop punk if i remember correctly ?? i cant feel the sun makes me violent i become a danger to myself and others
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theramblingvoid · 1 year ago
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Number 6, for Hallowrove!
Okay this is the fun one I'd hoped someone would pick because the thing is it's happened so many times in canon already that there's just NO question about the answer
Hallowrove's List Of Who She'd Go To If Badly Injured, by preference:
- Fluorine Scaleflats, a Rubbery friend with a great skill and interest in Shapeling Arts who can be relied on to piece her back together in (mostly) (if asked nicely) the right order
- Haarsink, who also knows shapeling arts and can probably apply them in a much less biologically creative manner in a medical setting, but is second on the list because showing up bleeding at his place would stress him the hell out (ask me how I know lol)
- Oversol, who although being a deeply trusted safe place to go has no particular medical knowledge or skills and will probably just call a very expensive doctor and/or pick Hallowrove up and sprint her to a hospital, while being VERY stressed either way
Hallowrove's List Of Who He'd Go To If Badly Injured, by what inevitably actually ends up happening:
- Oversol
- Haarsink that one time
- But other than that it's always Oversol
- Good lord Hallowrove you are going to put this poor man into heart failure we have got to stop letting this happen so often -
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sweetdreamspootypie · 1 year ago
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Fucked around (tried to find the non existent archived chat log on FB messenger with my ex) and found out (why did I do that)
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birdship · 1 year ago
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got to see jeff rosenstock live with my wife!!! the madman ran offstage and up the back stairs to the balcony mid-song to play sax and then ran all the way back down. insane. what a fucking delight.
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linoguy · 1 year ago
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also we so won btw. I had rev it up in my head all day yesterday and I finally broke while I was hanging out w my friend. I played the song and she was like …I like that. So basically I win forever
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blessyouhawkeye · 2 years ago
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also move set the stage for slutty songs in kpop when it came to boys. songs like bambi mmmh taste wow spider etc etc would all not exist if move hadn't been released/love had been the title track instead
literally the difference between move and flower is that everyone was trying to copy move but flower sounds like every other kpop song being made rn. like they're just not comparable.
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rizzlegukgak · 1 year ago
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also i’m getting. tired of what some people are doing About brennan lee mulligan
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eiilese · 1 year ago
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what if the strawhats had different roles on the ship⁉️ i swapped everyone’s roles except for luffy because i can’t imagine him being anything but the captain
these are loose redesigns since their canon designs don’t really read as their roles all that much to begin with. some extra doodles and ideas for this in the cut !!
nami, vice captain: i took a lot of inspiration from her beta design!! canon nami already bosses everyone around so she fits right into the role. she wields an extendable staff (usopp still makes it for her); she lost her arm over the time-skip like how zoro lost his eye. i LOVE drawing cargo pants and boots, so she ended up with a sorta bottom-heavy design. frankly it’s probably not her style but i like how she looks
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zoro, the cook: my foolproof logic is zoro uses swords = good with knives. he does not use katanas to cut produce however, just normal knives. i was trying to go for “sweaty ramen guy” with the towel around his neck. the majority of the shit he cooks would probably be drowned in alcohol. he also wears his bandana the majority of the time now!! it completes the ramen guy look
sanji, the sniper: i also took inspiration from his beta design for this!!! he has guns!! and perfect aim of course. i was going for more of a mafioso look so germa 66 would be like, a mafia organization on top of all the other villain shit they already do. he has two guns but i didn’t draw a holster bc that’s annoying🤞 he lights his cigarettes with his guns. how would that even work? don’t ask me
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usopp, the navigator: his artistic talent lends itself to creating perfect maps! he also still tinkers, making nami’s staff as well as having a specialty for compasses. he uses a slingshot still (no perfect aim we gotta nerf him) and shoots weather-related projectiles. his goggles serve as binoculars, they can zoom to several different distances. i drew him in his zou outfit purely bc it’s my favorite one
chopper, the helmsman: he would predominately use heavy point while maneuvering the wheel. i changed his hat up to look more like a sailor’s cap, with an anchor symbol instead of an X. to be honest i don’t have much else bc helmsman doesn’t bring much to my mind :(
franky, the musician: ROCK N ROLL BABY YEEAHHH come on his stage presence is unmatched. he’s still a cyborg, he has instruments all over his body like apoo does but they were installed manually. his personality changes depending on what genre he’s playing but rock n roll is his default B) (ex. classical calls for a refined gentleman)
robin, the shipwright: her devil fruit gives her as many helpful hands as she needs! she developed nami’s arm (definitely installed some random shit she did Not ask for). she has a robot mecha that she’s able to pilot all by herself using clones. i changed her orange sunglasses to goggle eyewear
brook, the doctor: the irony of being nursed back to health by a literal skeleton 💀the irony of being the doctor of the rumbar pirates yet being the only survivor, saving no one from the poison 💀 i went for a plague doctor look! IM VERY HAPPY WITH HOW HE TURNED OUT i was really tempted to give him the plague mask too, but i feel that would’ve changed his appearance too much compared to the others
jinbei, the archaeologist: the shape of this man demands a little pair of round glasses on his face. he’s an intellectual i tell you!!! plus still a fishman karate master. the history of joyboy and fishman island being so intertwined is how he developed an interest in history
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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 2 months ago
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Come And See Me
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Summary: “sexually reserved men are THE best. Well behaved, won’t steal a kiss, won’t touch you inappropriately but boy if you give them consent? FINISHED…”
Terry Richmond isn’t the type of man Summer is used to. He’s the strong, silent type. A lot of discipline and control. She’s used to men falling to their knees in an instant. Hardly any dirty talk. But it does feel good to get to know someone on a deeper level for a change. He promises he’d come see her, but Summer didn’t take his word for it. That was, until he walked into that strip club one evening to surprise her with…
“Flowers?”
Summer was in the middle of a routine that earned her bandz at an unimaginable level. She climbed that pole, showed off her acrobatic skills, flexed that body and popped that ass so good she had ‘em lost for words. Speechless.
Terry Richmond walked in with a bouquet of flowers, dressed in khakis, a Curaçao soccer shirt, and white Air Forces. His hair was styled in a tapered cut with a curly fro. In his large, veiny hand, Terry gripped her red roses tightly, walking through until he made it to a section he’d reserved directly in front of the stage. He wanted an up close and personal view of Summer. He didn’t plan to take his aurora gray eyes off of her.
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His captivating eyes created a path of seduction across her glistening skin that glittered beneath the strobe lights. Drink in his other hand, he took small sips, licking his lips nice and slow. Terry held the faintest smirk on his lips, body composed, but his heart was racing. His print left little to the imagination. Low grunts fell on deaf ears. Summer hit a split and made her hefty cheeks bounce. That body on her deserved big dick. It was built for big dick. Terry couldn’t wait. It’s been too long. Suddenly, as if she could sense him, Summer glanced over her shoulder and that’s when she realized Terry had shown up.
For a second, she’d forgotten where she was. His presence stunned her. Summer turned her body on the floor of the stage, money sticking to her tacky skin. Their eyes locked on for a while. Oooh, she was speechless. Summer started grinding her crotch towards him, rolling her hips and biting her lip. Terry’s piercing gaze was fixated on her face the entire time. Not once did he look down. It was so intense, her clit pulsated.
Drankin’ and Smokin’ came on and Summer lifted her shapely body into a squat, slowly and teasingly removing her bikini top. At this point, she was putting on a show for Terry and Terry only. Her Marine. She’d had his name saved under Mr. Marine in her phone. The hot pink top fell to the stage, bountiful titties with pierced nipples saluted. Terry dropped his beautiful eyes down to stare at her round, fat titties.
We drink up and we smoke, but she always do the most
It kinda turns me on the way she lickin' on my stones
My chains on antifreeze, it look like I made a clone
Wanna see you get more sassy, if it bring out better emotions
She called me her God, the way I floated in her ocean…
Summer needed him. So bad. That fine ass man. Seeing him in person…seeing the man behind that deep baritone. She rushed off that stage in an instant as soon as the music faded out. Breathing uneven, she walked off in her seven-inch pleasers, looking back at Terry, mind replaying all their conversations late at night…
(one of their many phone conversations)
“Hey baby…I wish you could see what I have on right now…You so sexy, imagine how…Intense it would be…To hold me right now…Our song's playin’…”
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Body wrapped in her faux fur, black blanket, head resting against her black satin pillows, Summer held her cellphone to her ear with one hand, the other caressing her tawny skin. Terry made a sound that vibrated her core.
“Summer rain…when I listen to that, you know I think about you, right? Mmm…I bet you look so good in my T-shirt.”
“You’re so far, and I’m all alone in my bed…”
Summer was wearing an old, baggy T-shirt; Terry’s Marine Corps T-shirt. The fabric of it against her body with his voice in her ear gave her butterflies.
I can still hear your baritone
In my ear telling me you'll take it slow
And I was in the mirror playing wrong
Like you were here, I couldn't turn me on
So I fell asleep with the music on
Woke up again hearing the same old song, playing…
Summer paced her bedroom, stopping in front of her window, gazing out into the rainy evening, pressed to the glass, and laughing at Terry and his corny jokes. Her brown eyes followed the path of the raindrops, the sudden recollection of her own essence dripping. All he did was make her laugh, spew facts about things she’d never heard of, and say over and over again how beautiful she is. He didn’t judge her. She felt safe with Terry and she hadn’t even met him in person yet. Thoughts of how gentle and kind and thoughtful he is makes her play in her pussy every night.
“Patience, baby…When I get to you, you’re all mine…”
She shut her lids and pictured him, standing at his towering height, bending over to kiss along her neck and wrap those big arms around her waist. Now, her body is shaking to the fantasies.
“Don’t take it easy on me, Terry. I need you here…”
Summer turned, pressing her back against the window, bringing the collar of his T-shirt to her nose and taking a whiff. Mmmm…it smelled just like his cologne. Vanilla and Sandalwood.
“You’ll be begging me to take it easy on you, baby…”
——
“Summer.”
Terry stood up and approached her. She was wearing a form-fitting black dress with her belongings. Her long, jet-black, silk pressed hair was pinned up with a claw clip. Summer gave Terry a bashful smile. She couldn’t contain the butterflies in her belly. Terry handed her the roses.
“Thank you,” Summer smelled them, “they’re beautiful…I can’t believe it’s really you…”
She knew Terry was tall, but DAMN. She had to crane her neck just to look up at him. And his eyes…Summer found herself getting lost in them.
“You’re so much more beautiful in person. That performance…damn…”
Summer tucked her chin, unable to contain her blushing. Terry startled Summer when he lifted her chin for her to look at him. Her breath hitched.
“Up here…”
“Okay…”
“You did amazing up there. I’m glad I got to see it in person…” Terry whispered with a low, resonant voice.
“Thank you, Terry. Me too.”
“Should we get outta here? I’m kinda anxious right now to have you all to myself…”
Summer chuckled softly, body vibrating with lust. Terry wouldn’t stop admiring her. It was so intense, Summer shyly smiled and dropped her head. What was it about this man that had her acting all giddy and nervous?
“C’mon,” Terry held his hand out for Summer to grasp.
Thighs clenching, Summer accepted Terry’s hand and when she placed her hand in his, Summer almost whimpered. His entire hand swallowed hers. Warm and strong. Fuck. Summer allowed Terry to guide her out of the strip club. When they’d finally made it to the door, Terry placed his hand on the small of her back, holding the door opened for her.
“Did you drive here?” Terry questioned.
“I did,” Summer pointed to her blue lexus, “This is me.”
“I’ll follow you out if that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay!” Summer responded excitedly.
Terry laughed before opening her door for her when she unlocked it. He helped Summer inside and then he took her things to put them in the back seat. Terry stood at the opening of her driver’s side door, looking down at her with a smirk and soft eyes.
“I’ll be right behind you, baby girl.”
“Okay, Terry…”
She watched as he leaned into her car, her body tensing up. Terry grabbed her hand and pecked it gently to tease, then came that deep chuckle she loved so much. It took her a moment to gather herself. It was the faintest of kisses but the feel of his generous lips against flesh sent sparks throughout her body. The hairs on her arms stood up and her pussy did that pitter-patter thing.
“Drive safe.”
He shut her door and flashed her a quick smile before jogging over to his truck—an all black GMC Sierra 2500HD Denali. Summer started the ignition, licking her lips to . Cocoa butter. She pulled out of the parking lot and checked to see if Terry was following her. When the coast was clear, she drove off with shaky hands and a flutter in her belly.
——
Summer stayed in a nice cul-de-sac home with a two car garage. She’d made enough money as an exotic dancer to purchase a home and move out of her apartment. She hopped out of her car and Terry pulled in closer as soon as she shut the garage. He quickly exited his car and grabbed her duffel bag so she could open the door.
Terry was finally going to see her home. After talking for months and wondering if he would ever come to see her, she didn’t have to doubt him anymore. Summer opened the front door and turned on the lights. The home had a futuristic feel to it that Summer loved. Terry took off his shoes and socks so he wouldn’t ruin her good carpet. While Summer got settled, he did some exploring of the first level.
Biomorphic curves, gravity-defying elements, sleek materials and bold angles. It looked like something dreamed up by Hollywood. Even the staircase leading up to her room with its modern glass rails completed the design. Summer returned with her flowers, giving Terry a megawatt smile filled with dimples and glossy lips. He followed her into her kitchen and watched her place her roses in a vase.
“This is nice, baby,” Terry took in his scenery of sleek stainless steel and marble, “So, this where you cook up them smothered pork chops, collard greens, and red beans and rice, huh?”
Summer giggles, “You know it. This is my favorite place to be. Would you like some wine?”
“I’ll take some, thank you,” Terry placed his arms behind his back as he stood near the kitchen island.
Summer handed him a glass and Terry accepted it with a slight tilt of his head and a penetrating gaze. They toasted each other before taking a sip of the white wine. The silence was palpable. They were both so thrilled to be in each other’s presence that words were lost on their tongues. Terry broke the silence with a nervous chuckle. He gently placed his now empty glass on the kitchen island before walking with slow, purposeful strides to reach Summer on the other side.
Summer had a firm grip on her wine glass, brown eyes ascending his tall frame to reach his gorgeous face. The pictures of him told her that Terry is a rare sight. A man this handsome is hard to come by. To view him in person; skin-to-skin, breath-to-breath, eye-to-eye, Summer had never seen a man so beautiful. Terry reached out to remove the glass from her hand and he sat it down on the counter top.
“Miss. Summer. I’ve been waitin’ a long time for this moment…and I know that I’ve made promises to come see you…that haven’t been fulfilled…and I’m sure you’ve had your doubts…”
“I have, I’m not gonna sugar-coat it. But you’re here now,” Summer exhaled slowly, “I don’t have to fantasize about what it would be like to have you next to me in my bed anymore…”
When you're not here
(I sleep in your t-shirt)
I wish you were here
(To take off your t-shirt)
After we make love
(I sleep in your t-shirt)
Wake up in your t-shirt
I smell the scent of your cologne…
“I don’t have to wish anymore,” Summer blinked up at Terry as she reached out her hand to stroke his arm that’s two sizes bigger than hers and covered in veins, “Or wonder if we could be something…”
“Hey,” Terry drew in closer his voice lowering a register, “We are something, baby. I need to get that doubt out your head…may I?”
Terry opened his arms and Summer gave her consent with a nod of her head before his arms hugged her tight. Summer pressed her cheek centimeters below his chest. He’s so big and warm. Body beneath his T-shirt unyielding. Terry’s hands began to explore. One hand threaded into her hair, massaging her scalp through her silky, thick tresses, the other glided up and down her back soothingly. Summer couldn’t remember the last time she’d been hugged like this by a man if not ever.
“I wanna explain what held me up a while…I had some legal issues in Shelby Springs…my cousin got mixed up in some mess and I went to bail him out but…he died.”
“The cousin you told me about? Are you serious?”
Summer rested her chin against Terry’s chest as she looked up at him with saddened eyes. He looked back at her, so much emotion swirling in those blue-gray orbs with flecks of gold and brown, as if they are forever changing.
“Yeah,” Terry’s shoulders slumped, “It’s a lot…still gotta clear my name…lawyer up…I’m sorry I’m dumping all this shit on you right now—”
“Don’t be, Terry, don’t be,” Summer caressed Terry’s cheek, “That’s a lot. I’m so sorry…I can’t imagine…”
Summer squeezed Terry and he reciprocated. She felt her body being lifted from the floor and her arms wrapped around his neck.
“I’m so sorry about your cousin.” Summer said.
“Thank you, ‘ppreciate that…you’re so precious…”
Summer smiled fondly at Terry, “You’re such a good man, Terry Richmond.”
He loved that she said that. It made him smile handsomely down at her. She wanted to continue putting a smile on his face.
“You’re my safe space, Summer…”
She shut her eyes to avoid the onslaught of tears. It’s only been months that they’ve been talking. She’s his safe space?
“Terry…”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes—”
Terry hooked his hands beneath Summer’s ass and hiked her up so her thighs could circle his cut waistline. One hand cradled the back of her neck while the other secured her waist snugly against him.
Summer felt her heart race. The air was thick with the creamy, warm, and earthy scent of his cologne, and the distant sound of her heartbeat faded into the background. A mix of security and excitement reflected in their depths.
With a tentative smile, Terry brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine. The hand against her waist gave a gentle squeeze that spoke volumes. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling.
When their lips finally met, it was soft and hesitant at first, testing the waters. But as the kiss deepened, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth of their connection and the thrill of a moment long awaited. Their tongues danced a slippery recital, lip’s cushiony, teeth grazing.
He’d ached to taste her. To taste a woman after so long. Summer’s daydreaming didn’t prepare her for the reality in front of her. Terry’s long legs began to guide them into Summer’s living room and towards her couch. He pulled away so that he could place her on her back. Summer’s dress had ridden up her shapely thighs revealing smooth, tawny skin. Terry knelt one leg between her thighs before lowering over her. Summer lifted to kiss him again, but Terry stopped her with a single finger to her lips.
“…It’s been way too long for me, baby girl. Seeing you dance tonight…doing your thing up there…it took a lot of work not to walk up on that stage and put this dick in you.”
Summer’s breath hitched.
“I’ve painted a picture in my mind many times of what that body looked like…” Terry’s eyes dropped down to the tops of Summer’s breasts, “I don’t think I ever told you I’m a breast man…and you got a pair that I just wanna…”
He pressed his face into her neck and inhaled. Summer drew her bottom lip into her mouth to control the incessant trembling. He’d never talked this dirty to her.
“…I just wanna suck and lick and nibble all over these titties…”
She could feel her nipples hardening from his words alone. Hearing it in person and so close to her ears had a greater effect. Summer was squirming. Her pussy leaked so much that it became unbearable to even wear panties around him. She’d have to walk around with an exposed pussy to cool off.
“I can suck these titties all night…sleep with a titty in my mouth…play with your nipples until you’re squirming…flick your nipples with my tongue…you got some thick nipples too, baby…mmmh…”
That long, drawn out groan into her neck had her whimpering. This man had her weak. Summer raked her nails down his chest before twisting the fabric of his T-shirt into her fist.
“Here, please,” Summer thrust her chest into him, “Daddy, please…”
“I love the way you beg, baby girl…” Terry kissed down her neck, “you’ll be doin’ a lot of that shit tonight. Beg for me to suck on that pussy…beg for me to fit this dick in you nice and good…”
“Terry…”
His malleable lips created a tickling sensation until he reached her breasts. Summer watched with desperation as his lips covered the fleshy hills in a repeated motion. She was mewling. Nipples so hard. He started kissing around each nipple through her dress. Summer clawed the suede sofa.
“Daddy…”
She was shivering.
“Want more? Where you want it? Talk to me…”
She was able to control the quiver of her lower lip to speak, “Please suck on my nipples…I can’t take it.”
“Nahhh, you gotta beg harder than that…”
Summer moaned softly, “uhnnnnnn…” when he used his teeth to nibble on her nipples, “Daddy, I want you to suck my nipples. Do whatever you want to my titties…please, please, please….”
Terry peered up at Summer with those hypnotic eyes.
“Good girl…that’s how you ask for what you want…”
With one hand, Terry’s eyes remained fixated on Summer’s face, he lowered the top of her strapless, body-con dress, one beautiful, round, breast coming into view. Skin like honey, nipples and areolas a deep brown. Busty and asymmetrical. Perfectly imperfect. Her bejeweled nipple pebbled and Terry’s lips parted.
“Shit, you just don’t know…”
He revealed the other breast and it jiggled a little upon its release.
“So fuckin’ beautiful…”
He blew air onto her nipples. Summer arched her back. Terry used that opportunity to slither his hands beneath her to keep her chest elevated so he could attack each big titty the way he wanted. Hair in her face, glossy lips slightly open, soft moans flowing from her mouth, Summer looked pleasantly horny.
Terry started off with flicking her nipples back and forth. His pink tongue is warm and wet. When his lips drew her left nipple into her mouth first, Summer cried out. Her thighs gripped his waist, and Terry couldn’t wait to feel those soft thighs do the same thing to his head.
“Ah, mmm, unhhhh, yesss…you like these fat titties, daddy?”
“Mhm,” Terry was in the zone sucking back and forth.
She could tell he was a titty man alright. He rubbed his face in it, dragged his teeth down her breast bone, used his big, strong, veiny hands to push her breast together so he could trace his tongue back and forth.
“I’m a need you to do that on this pussy!”
Terry released a laugh, burying his face between her breasts. Summer was hot all over and close to tackling this man!
“More wine first,” Terry rest his cheek against one of her breasts as he looked up at her, “So soft…the best pillow…”
Summer exhaled impatiently, “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Good.”
Terry kissed her breasts one last time before covering her back up, “Are you okay with me getting the wine? While you put on some music?”
Summer wasn’t prepared for the visual. Terry stood up and as he was fixing his shirt that had lifted up, she focused on those abs, the strip of hair leading down to his crotch, and the deep v-cut. The lower her eyes went, the more she had to stop herself from dropping to her knees. A very vivid and distinct outline of his third leg sat along his thigh like a python beneath a sheet waiting to strike. He was on brick.
“It’ll be all yours tonight…”
Their eyes met with equal desire.
“I’ll go grab that wine…bathroom?”
“Uh…d–down the hall and t–to your right.”
Terry chuckled, “I’ll be back.”
He disappeared and Summer let out a long exhale. She walked over to her Bluetooth sound system and knew exactly what she wanted to listen to.
——
Summer dimmed the lights with her cell phone and after five minutes, Terry returned with their glasses and a bottle.
Storming outside, rain
She keeps me home
Quiet conversation makes me warm
So
Summer rain
Whispers me to sleep
And wakes me up again
Sometimes i swear i hear her call my name…
Terry smiled at her. Summer pat the sofa cushion next to her enthusiastically. He handed her a glass and plopped down, throwing an arm over her shoulder. His finger tips caressed her arm as they sang along to summer rain
“So go ahead and make it rain…you bring the sunshine back again…”
“Okay vocals!” Summer teased.
Terry threw his head back and laughed, “Stop.”
“I’m just teasing, daddy,” Summer snuggled closer, “More wine, please…”
“Anything for you,” Terry leaned forward to retrieve the bottle.
Summer rain started playing again.
They emptied the bottle of wine and their tipsy banter stared. Terry was very playful. He had Summer trapped beneath him on the throw rug, his shirt off and thrown somewhere. Summer couldn’t stop giggling. The wine had her feeling light and cozy. Her laughter couldn’t be contained.
“If you follow directions, I wouldn’t have to do this,” Terry had her by her wrists above her head, “You gotta behave to get what you want, Summer. I’m not asking…I’m telling.”
“It’s on my thigh, and you expect me to behave?”
“I expect you to remember who’s in charge…”
“Terry,” Summer rolled her eyes, “You haven’t felt how deep this throat can go yet.”
“So? What that mean?” Terry arched a dark brow, “You ain’t felt my mouth on your pussy yet.”
Terry sat back on his knees above Summer. She lifted up onto her elbows. He tucked his chin slightly and stared at her with this primal look that reminded her of a jungle cat.
“…take this dress off.”
Summer sat up on her butt and shimmy’s her hips, bringing her dress up and over her head, revealing black, cheeky, lace panties and a matching strapless bra. Terry crawled to her. He pulled her into a fierce kiss. Summer’s hands roamed all over his muscles. His skin is so soft.
“Your room…now…” Terry spoke against her lips, “Right now…”
They both stood on unsteady legs, laughing. Terry popped Summer on the ass and she whimpered softly. They moved towards the stairs, Terry creating space between them so he could watch Summer seduce him with her slow ascend. She would look back at him as she climbed, smirking at him with those siren eyes. That booty in those panties made him want to take a bite.
He’d been dying to see her room. She pushed open the double doors and Terry came face-to-face with a room made for a vixen. The dark palate mixed with low lighting created the perfect space to get nasty. And he planned to get real nasty. Terry walked up on Summer from behind, and with one hand, he gathered her straightened hair into his fist neatly and tugged. She pivoted back against him, her soft cheeks flush against his crotch.
“I’m undressing you…”
Hair still in his grasp, Terry worked on her bra. It fell from her body to the floor. He released her hair so that he could drop down and take her panties off. Summer looked over her shoulder at him. He peeled her panties away at a snails pace. His lips kissed her back dimples. She wiggled her hips to help him lower her panties. Buttery, smooth skin beneath his fingertips.
Terry nibbled on her ass like a famished man. His hands kneaded her plump flesh. It was time to peel the crotch of her panties away from her pussy.
“Bend forward slightly…yes…just like that…”
His deep grunt told her all she needed to know. Terry was blown away by how much sticky, wetness connected to her panties. A slimy, sweetness he couldn’t wait to clean up with his tongue. The aroma of her arousal activated his taste buds. The shape of her lips from the back had him mesmerized. Summer stepped out of her panties quickly so Terry could have her completely.
“C’mere,” Terry stood and walked Summer towards her bed, “Sit this pussy on my mouth right now.”
He got down on the floor and tilted his head back on the bed. Summer straddled his face and tilted her pelvis forward. Terry placed each hand on her ass to push her closer. The moment her pussy smothered him, he used his tongue to clean up her mess.
“Fuck!”
Summer felt his tongue part her outer lips and swipe upward. She almost saw heaven.
“Mhm…”
Her legs shook. Terry pushed her legs apart further with force so he can eat it more. Summer raised a leg to the edge of the bed and Terry wasted no time using his lips and tongue in junction to slurp on her pussy.
“Yes….oh….”
This was a man that knew what he was doing. He didn’t have to tell you. Summer started feeding his mouth some pussy with a roll of her hips. Terry followed her movements eagerly. Clit hard, folds nice and slick, she knew she was close. It was only a matter of time.
“Terry, I’m gonna cum in your mouth…”
His silence was her undoing. He was too busy eating pussy like a starved man. She could hear his big lips working her up to a juicy cum. His tongue darting in and out of her wet hole, her clit being attacked from every angle imaginable, she was going to burst.
“Terry…Terryyyyyy…”
That ass and those thighs jiggled out of control.
“Uhhhhhh….ahhhhhhh….huuuuuuuuhh….”
She fisted the sheets so hard her nails dug info her skin painfully. The aftershocks of her release left lingering tremors she couldn’t control. Terry removed his lips from her clit, a trail of her cum connected to his bottom lip. His face was covered in sweat and cum. Summer threw herself onto the bed so Terry could stand. She looked at him and watched as he licked his lips.
“So good…your pussy tastes so good…”
“Thank you…now I wanna taste you…”
It was the moment she’d been waiting for. Terry hummed his approval, walking up towards her. Summer worked to undo his pants with frantic movements. Terry didn’t stop her. She wanted that dick in her mouth.
“Get yours, baby…”
“Oh, I will,” Summer replied.
Summer lowered his pants and briefs. His dick bobbed out and she had to take a moment to just…
He was definitely a big boy. Enough to stretch you out. That pain and pleasure mix. His length told her she would feel it in her stomach. The veins created a path for her tongue to take. His tip; the perfect shape to fit in her mouth perfectly. His balls were taunt and heavy. It was a masterpiece.
“Summer…put this dick in your mouth…that’s an order.”
An order she would gladly accept. Summer kissed along his shaft. Terry smoothed her hair back so she wouldn’t mess it up. Her kisses turned sloppy, then she added some tongue, then she found herself sinking down onto his pole the sides of her mouth stretched to accommodate all of him.
“Put more in there,” Terry placed his arms behind his back, watching her like a drill sergeant, “there you go…such a good little thing, ain’t you?”
He sat at the back of her throat. Summer used her neck and jaw muscles to work that dick with loud sucking and spit bubbles. Terry’s mouth dropped open when she showed him that she could deep throat. Her tongue wiggled against his balls and Terry almost nutted down her throat from that alone.
“Damn, girl…you lovin’ this big dick?”
“Mmmmcmcjdkssk—”
“Fuuuck,” Terry’s beautiful eyes rolled shut, “that’s how you suck this dick…that’s how you show daddy…”
Summer loved sucking dick. Terry’s dick deserved all the love. She would suck it and look in his eyes. Terry stared back with furrowed brows and a bite of his lip.
“Summer…”
Her name resonated from his voice so deep and lustrous.
She pulled out all her tricks. Sucked his balls, focused on his tip, licked his frenulum. Terry’s ab muscles flexed and his squared jaw clenched. Her hair in his grip, Terry was losing his sanity.
“I’m cumming—”
Thick, ropes of ejaculate filled her mouth.
“Ughh–ahhhhh fuck—”
Summer drank down every single drop like it was the sweetest cream filling. She’d waited months to do this and she was going to make this beautiful man cum. That fat dick hung in her face ready for more action and she had a wet pussy for it to dig into.
“Aight, on your back, no more wasting time.”
Terry spoke those words with such urgency. Summer felt the firmness in his tone. She scooted onto the bed and spread her legs wide and limber. Terry climbed onto the bed and settled between her legs. The feeling of the tip of his dick sitting against her pussy lips made this moment all too real.
“Yes…put that big dick in me…”
Terry placed himself above her and with one hand, he guided his dick between her lips and then with a slight thrust of his hips, he sank inside of Summer. She gasped, knees drawing into her chest. Terry watched his dick split her open with a penetrating stare. Summer tried to move and Terry locked her legs to her ears.
“You want me to keep you still? I suggest you stop moving.”
She froze.
With one thrust, he was fully inside of her. Summer moaned louder. As a reflex, she tried to close her legs, but Terry wasn’t having that.
“Terry! Holy FUCKING SHIT!”
“Eyes on me. That’s an order.”
He smirked mischievously. She was ruined.
Terry pumped into her at a moderate pace. Summer couldn’t handle taking all that dick and focusing on his eyes at the same time. There was no way.
“It’s so big!”
“It’s big but this pussy love it, this pussy love it, look at this pussy…creamin’ all over me like that…such a messy girl…”
Summer was making a mess indeed. You could hear it and see it. Wet, sloshing noises.
“Ain’t been fucked in a while…got you wettin’ this dick up.”
She couldn’t handle the way his dick stroked her spot.
“Stretchin’ this pussy out? Didn’t I say I wasn’t gon’ take it easy?”
She couldn’t speak. How could she? Terry had her folded in half and teetering over the edge. She felt her stomach grow tight and her body seized up.
“T–T–T—”
Summer didn’t have a chance. She turned her head and cried out. Terry held his dick deep while staring down at her face.
“You tryna push me out?” Terry chuckled evily, “What if I don’t wanna leave?”
“P–please, daddy…”
“Hmm,” Terry slowly withdrew his hips, “Please keep fucking you?”
His words were killing her. She could only nod her head.
Oh! Boy I've been waiting
(Oh oh oh)
Now my body's shaking
(Oh oh oh)
You're so deep, baby please, take it easy…
“Think you can arch your back for me?”
Terry kissed Summer on her lips.
“Mhm…”
Terry lifted Summer and helped her into position. She arched her back exactly how he wanted her. Deep with that ass high in the air. He was tall so it needed to be. Terry had a handful of her ass and that was his leverage to anchor his dick in her pussy. Summer groaned into the sheets. She looked breathtaking. Hair fanned out above her. Back in a beautiful position. Ass sitting up and giving Terry the best view of that pink pussy.
“Oooh!”
She could feel him almost touch her heart with how long his dick is!
“Terry, it’s too much!”
He wasn’t even giving her all of him. He arched a brow down at her.
“What did we discuss…”
She knew to be a big girl but LAWD he was hefty.
“I know…it’s just so big…”
“With a body like this…it’s built for dick like mine…”
He stroked slower, Summer drooling onto her sheets.
“Nah you look at me when I’m in this pussy…”
“Summer turned her head and looked back at Terry.
“There’s my pretty girl…such a pretty girl.”
Summer put a finger in her mouth and sucked on it like a pacifier while staring into his eyes.
“Fine ass,” Terry picked up the pace.
“Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!”
Summer bit down on her finger and her eyes crossed. She coated his dick again and at this point it was dripping wet. Terry pulled out and ate her from behind. He couldn’t control himself. Summer tried to move her hips away and it earned a sharp slap to the ass. Terry resurfaced, pumping his dick in his hand. He snatched Summer by her hair and abruptly angled her head to suck him off. Summer did just that while Terry fingered her pussy from the back. He started talking her through it.
“Fingers deep in this pussy, little one? Mmhm…”
Summer stroked him while sucking on his tip.
“There you go, such a creamy little slut…”
She furrowed her brows at the feeling of two fingers pumping her. She was leaking to the bed.
“Daddy fingering this pussy good? Hmm?”
Summer spit his dick out, “I’m cumming!”
Terry continued to work his fingers knuckle deep. Summer felt something burst inside of her and soon she was creating a puddle between her legs. Terry’s fingers slipped out and he brought them to her mouth to taste. Summer licked them clean for him.
“I know you can give me more, right?”
“Yes…” Summer replied weakly.
Terry placed Summer on her back and then he got between her legs from the side. Terry pointed his still hard dick at her pussy and with one look into her eyes he was back inside like he never left. His toned hips worked to drill her hole.
“Daddy! Cum already!” Summer begged.
It felt too good and she couldn’t handle the overwhelming pleasure. She pressed a weak hand against his abs, attempting to push him away, only for Terry to lock her wrist down. He licked his lips at her and gave her a sly smirk while continuing to fuck her into the mattress.
“Terry…”
“Yes?”
Summer erupted. The tight hold from her walls made his balls tighten and his dick pulsate within her wetness.
“Give me this pussy!”
Terry’s hips stuttered out of control. He couldn’t hold off any longer. This good pussy on her had his dick so sensitive.
“Summer…FUCK!”
Terry pulled out and Summer shot up from the bed with her tongue poked out and eyes on him. Terry fisted his long dick, emptying a big load all over her tongue and face. It just wouldn’t stop. His ass muscles clenched from the overwhelming pressure. Summer looked pleasantly fucked and her giggle warmed his heart.
“You’re such a nasty girl…”
“All for you…”
956 notes · View notes
brunchable · 1 month ago
Text
The Marriage Bet - Part Two
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Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Pregnant f!Reader
Themes/Warnings: Y/N in labor. Childbirth but NOT detailed, more focused on Bucky's presence and what he's doing.
Summary: How has a small bet lead to this? Y/N goes into labor and Bucky does everything he can to be as supportive as he could.
A/N: For those who asked for Part Two, this is for you ^_^ I hope it lived up to the expectations. . . I took inspiration from my own experience so yeah.
taggies: @rcarbo1 @ozwriterchick @mrsnikstan @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss
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You roll your eyes as Bucky keeps a skeptical gaze on you, watching you step up and down on the curb for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Doll, you’ve been at this for days. I’m starting to think this kid’s staging a sit-in,” he teases, leaning against the lamppost, arms crossed.
“Well, she’s not paying rent, so she doesn’t get to stay. Curb walking is happening whether she likes it or not,” you snap back, determination lacing your tone as you continue stepping. But deep down, you’re tired, exhausted from trying to nudge your body into labor.
Bucky grins, but he still offers you a hand as you make your way back toward the house. “I’m just saying, if I see you out here tomorrow morning, I’m calling the National Guard.”
You elbow him lightly. “Very funny, Buck. This baby’s coming today. I can feel it.”
When you both step inside the house, Alpine is on you immediately, practically glued to your legs, rubbing her soft, fluffy body against your ankles more persistently than usual. You frown, looking down at her.
“What’s with you today, girl?” you ask, gently shooing her away with your foot. But instead of backing off like she normally does, Alpine meows loudly and circles you again, her tail brushing against your legs.
“Hey, come on. What’s going on with you?” you murmur, reaching down to pet her. But Alpine’s not interested in affection—at least, not her usual kind. She rubs harder against you, weaving in and out between your legs, forcing you to shuffle to avoid tripping.
“Bucky, I think Alpine’s lost it,” you call out, trying to step away from her. But she follows, her constant meowing beginning to sound like scolding. You can’t help but feel like she’s trying to tell you something.
Bucky, in the kitchen, is half-hidden in the fridge, rummaging around for something. “Maybe she’s just mad you’re about to replace her as the center of attention,” he quips, not looking up from his snack hunt.
“Yeah, well, she can wait her turn,” you mutter, trying to step around Alpine. But the cat is relentless. She rubs against your legs even harder, circling you tighter, her meows getting louder. You try to move, but she darts in front of you, making you stumble.
“Seriously, Alpine, what is going on?” you huff, trying to sidestep her again, but it’s no use. She’s practically glued to you, brushing her entire body against you, her eyes wide and focused as she continues her odd dance around your feet. You glance at Bucky, now distracted by Alpine’s odd behavior.
Bucky looks up, finally noticing how insistent the cat is. “You think she knows something we don’t?” he asks, his tone shifting from playful to curious. “Animals have instincts about this kind of stuff, right?”
Before you can respond, Alpine meows again, louder this time, and you feel a sudden, sharp tightening in your belly. You stop in your tracks, your hands immediately going to your abdomen as the pain intensifies.
“Ooo, ow!” you gasp, bending over slightly as the contraction tightens your entire stomach. “Bucky!”
Bucky’s head shoots up from the fridge like a missile, his eyes wide. “What?! What happened? Are you okay?!” he blurts, slamming the fridge door shut. He’s by your side in seconds, almost slipping in his haste. “Is it time? It’s time, isn’t it?! Oh god, okay, okay, breathe. Just breathe.”
You clutch the edge of the counter, nodding through the pain. “I think… I think it’s happening.”
Alpine, still rubbing against you, lets out another loud meow, as if confirming your suspicion. You glance down at her, and for a moment, it’s as if the cat knows exactly what’s going on. She gives a final rub against your legs before darting out of the way, clearing the space for Bucky to swoop in.
Bucky’s eyes go even wider. 
“Okay, okay, uh—hospital. We need to call the hospital.” He pulls out his phone, hands trembling slightly as he fumbles with the screen. He stabs at the screen with his thumb, almost dropping it in the process. “Where’s the number? Why don’t I have the number saved?!” he mutters to himself, glancing at you for reassurance as the line finally connects.
He paces as he talks to the hospital, his free hand anxiously running through his hair. “Yeah, hi, it’s… Y/N? Y/N Barnes? um, it’s happening. She’s in labor. What do we—what do I do? No, we’re at home, but we’re coming in—should we come in now? Or…? Okay. Okay, got it, yeah, we’ll head there in… five minutes? Yeah, five. Thanks.”
He hangs up, looking like he’s just run a marathon. “They said we can wait a bit until it gets stronger, but we can go now if you want. What do you wanna do?”
Before you can answer, another wave of pain washes over you, and you double over again, gripping the counter tighter. Alpine meows and brushes against your legs again as if trying to comfort you, her tail swishing with determination.
Bucky glances at Alpine, then back at you. 
“Okay, bath! I’ll run you a warm bath. That’s what they said, right? Warm bath to relax? Just—stay right here, doll. I’ll handle this.” He bolts off toward the bathroom, slipping slightly but catching himself at the last second.
You hear him turning on the water, his voice slightly frantic. “Warm bath, warm bath. I can do this. Where are the towels? Of course, we have towels. Focus, Bucky. Towels, water, perfect.”
You chuckle softly, despite the growing discomfort, glancing down at Alpine, who is now sitting by your feet, watching you intently with those big, bright eyes. 
“You knew, didn’t you?” you mutter, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. She purrs loudly, as if proud of herself.
A moment later, Bucky’s back, nearly tripping over Alpine as he rushes to your side. “Okay, bath’s ready. Nice and warm. Let’s get you in there before another one hits,” he says, gently taking your arm and guiding you toward the bathroom.
Alpine follows behind, meowing in approval as Bucky helps you into the tub. The warm water does wonders to ease the tension, but the contractions are still coming, and you know it won’t be long.
Bucky kneels beside the tub, his eyes wide with a mix of excitement and panic. “You okay? Should I call someone? Maybe I should recheck the bags. Oh, and snacks—I need to grab snacks.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “You and your snacks, Bucky. We’ll be fine.”
Alpine, still close by, gives one final approving meow before curling up on the bathroom mat, keeping a watchful eye on both of you.
× × × × 
The car ride to the hospital was a blur—Bucky, in full mission mode, had one hand on the wheel and the other gripping yours as you breathed through each contraction. Every time you winced, his brow furrowed deeper, a mix of panic and determination on his face. Even as you swatted him away, insisting you didn’t need him hovering, he stayed glued to your side.
By the time you arrived at the hospital, Bucky had already called ahead, barking orders like he was leading a rescue mission. He parked the car, rushed around to your side, and had you in his arms before you could argue. 
“No hero moves, Buck, I can walk,” you huffed, trying to push through another contraction, but Bucky wasn’t hearing any of it.
“Not a chance. Just let me handle this, doll. I got you,” he said softly, the tenderness in his voice cutting through the pain.
Inside the hospital, Bucky was glued to you—holding your hand, rubbing your back, scratching your head soothingly, offering water. Every contraction, every wince, he was there, wide-eyed, on alert. He spoke to the doctors, double-checked every word they said, like he was memorising their instructions for later. He wouldn’t even blink unless he was sure you were okay.
“Bucky, I’m fine. You need to relax,” you grumbled between deep breaths, squeezing his hand through another wave of pain.
“I’m relaxed! This is me, relaxed!” he responded, his voice a little too high to be convincing. He had one hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles as if he could somehow ease the pain just by being there.
When another particularly strong contraction hit, making you groan in agony, Bucky’s face crumpled. He looked like he was ready to jump in and fight the pain for you only if he could. 
"You're sure you don't want the epidural?" he asked, glancing at you as another contraction hit, his face creased with concern. You could see the tension in his jaw, his helplessness in not being able to take the pain from you. “I just… I hate seeing you like this.”
“No. I am doing this my way, okay?!” You shook your head, gripping his hand as the pain intensified, your voice coming out in a growl. 
He let out a shaky laugh. "Okay, no epidural. Got it. But if you change your mind, I can threaten someone. I can be very convincing."
Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but smile through gritted teeth. “Pretty sure the nurses don’t need to see the Winter Soldier just because I’m in labor.”
Bucky chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “Oh, come on. It’d make for a great story. I could throw my arm around, scare a few people… you know, just your typical Tuesday.”
Hours passed, and Bucky hadn’t moved from your side. He wouldn’t sit, wouldn’t close his eyes, despite you insisting—between contractions—that he at least take a nap. 
“You’re gonna fall over if you don’t get some rest,” you grumbled, squeezing his hand through another wave.
“Fall over? Pfft, I don’t need sleep. I’m like a machine.” He smiled, though his eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion. But every time you winced, his whole body tensed, as if he could feel the pain with you. “You, on the other hand, are doing amazing. I mean, you’re practically doing this like a walk in the park. The park of… childbirth.”
You let out a half-laugh, half-groan, resting your head back against the pillow. “That was terrible, Buck.”
He smiled wider. 
“Was it? C’mon, don’t lie to me. You were laughing inside.” He leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple. “I’m not leaving you.”
He looks at you with such fierce determination that you know there’s no convincing him otherwise. 
“Besides, I couldn’t sleep if I tried. What if you need something? Or what if you crack and ask for that epidural?” He smirks, trying to lighten the mood.
You roll your eyes at him, wincing as another contraction comes. Bucky’s immediately there, squeezing your hand, pressing his forehead to yours as you breathe together.
“I’m serious,” you mutter when the pain subsides, “you need sleep.”
Bucky grins, though his eyes are soft with affection. “Sleep? Who needs sleep? I’m living on love right now, doll. And adrenaline.” He winks at you, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Who’s gonna be here to remind you how much of a badass you are?”
Despite the pain, you can’t help but laugh a little, which makes him smile even wider. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. 
“You know, this is probably a good time to tell you that you’re way stronger than me. I’d probably be begging for the epidural by now. And ice cream. Definitely ice cream.”
You snort, trying not to laugh too hard as another contraction builds. “Yeah, and I’d let you have the epidural just to shut you up.”
Bucky chuckles, but his smile fades as he watches you breathe through the pain again, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. 
He’s quiet for a moment, then softly whispers, “You’re incredible, you know that?”
You look up at him through heavy breaths, your heart swelling at the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only person in the world. His thumb traces lazy circles on your hand, his eyes never leaving your face.
“You’re doing so good, doll. I’m so proud of you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.
When the contraction finally passed, you slumped back, exhausted. Bucky’s fingers brushed a stray piece of hair from your forehead, his touch light as a feather. 
“You want some ice chips? You want me to grab the doc again? Steal you another pillow? You name it, babe, and I’ll make it happen.”
Another contraction hit, and you groaned in pain, squeezing his hand hard enough to make him wince. But instead of complaining, he leaned down close, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. 
“You know,” he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial, “you’ve got the strength of ten supersoldiers right now. You could probably take me down with just one hand. Kinda sexy, don’t you think?”
You couldn’t help but snort through the pain, the corners of your mouth lifting despite the overwhelming sensation. “That’s… your idea of sexy?” you panted, trying to keep your breathing steady.
“Hey, I’ve always had a thing for strong women,” he teased, winking at you in that playful Bucky way, trying to distract you from the pain. “And you, sweetheart, are the strongest woman I know.”
Even though the pain was still there, the tension in your shoulders eased just a little.
“See, that’s what I’m here for,” he said softly, his thumb brushing the back of your hand as another contraction started building. “You focus on bringing our kid into the world, and I’ll keep trying to distract you with terrible jokes and my rugged good looks.”
“You’re lucky… I love you…” you muttered through the next wave of pain.
By the time the contractions were coming faster and more intense, Bucky was still right there, leaning close, murmuring encouragements. His fingers intertwined with yours, his other hand brushing through your hair as you worked through the pain. 
“You’re doing amazing, doll. We’re almost there. I’m right here.”
He didn’t sleep, didn’t sit, not even when you begged him to rest. His only focus was you, and every time your face twisted in pain, his own features mirrored it. But somehow, even in the toughest moments, he kept trying to make you smile, whispering about baby names, promising to make up for every second of pain with the biggest, most elaborate breakfast you could dream of. 
“We’ll get pancakes. Or waffles. Or pancakes and waffles. With ice cream. I’ll even eat kale if it’ll make you happy.”
When the doctor told you it was time, Bucky’s grip on your hand tightened, and for a moment, you expected to see that familiar flicker of panic in his eyes. But it never came. Somehow, in the face of what was about to happen, Bucky remained steady, his expression calm and resolute. He didn’t waver. His focus was entirely on you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing strokes as you gathered the last of your strength.
The room bustled around you—nurses preparing, the doctor giving instructions—but it all seemed distant. The only thing grounding you was Bucky. His eyes never left yours, a silent strength radiating from him, as though he were willing to carry you through the final stretch. Every time the pressure built, every time the exhaustion weighed on you, Bucky was there, his presence unfazed, holding you steady as the moment grew closer.
Even as the intensity of labor reached its peak, he didn’t flinch. Not once. His grip remained firm but gentle, anchoring you in the chaos, his face composed, his breathing in sync with yours. He was there, unwavering, a rock against the storm. The room could’ve been crumbling around you, and Bucky wouldn’t have noticed.
His whole world was you.
Then, when the cry filled the room—the unmistakable sound of your baby’s first breath—it hit him like a tidal wave.
They placed her on your chest, and for a second, Bucky was still. He was looking at her—his daughter—for the very first time. His mouth opened slightly, and you saw his eyes widen in awe. His tough exterior began to crack, the strong front he had maintained throughout crumbling under the sheer weight of the moment.
Suddenly, Bucky turned away, almost abruptly, his shoulders shaking. He was crying. Ugly crying. His hand left yours for the first time as he tried to rub the tears away, his back to you as he choked on his emotions. But he wasn’t fooling anyone. You could hear the soft sniffles as he struggled to pull himself together.
It only lasted a moment before he spun back around, tears still streaming down his face, though he tried—so hard—to stop them. The sight of him, attempting to be tough through the tears, was endearing and, in its own way, a little bit funny. His face was red, his eyes puffy, and there was no mistaking the way his breath hitched as he looked at the baby resting on your chest.
He tried to smile through the sobs, wiping his face with the back of his hand, but every time he looked at her—tiny, perfect, and so much a part of both of you—the tears came again, harder this time. He was completely undone, staring at his daughter with a mixture of awe, joy, and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that she was here, real, and his.
And though Bucky was crying harder than ever, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his tears mingling with yours, both of you laughing at the raw, overwhelming sweetness of the moment.
He was a mess, but a happy mess—ugly crying through the most beautiful moment of your lives. And, despite it all, he never let go of your hand.
× × × × 
When you and Bucky finally stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your place welcomed you back. It was strange being home with Julianna now, like the world had shifted but stayed the same. You glanced at Bucky, who was carrying the capsule carefully, his expression softer than usual.
Alpine was the first to greet you. As soon as the door opened, she trotted over, her tail swishing with curiosity. She stopped at your feet, looking up at both of you expectantly, as if asking, “So, what did you bring back?”
Bucky set the capsule down gently on the floor, his movements slow and careful.
“Look who’s here, Alpine,” he said, glancing down at the cat with a smile tugging at his lips. “We brought someone new.”
Alpine inched closer, her nose twitching as she inspected the carrier with cautious curiosity. Bucky crouched beside the capsule, lifting the cover slightly so the cat could get a closer look. Julianna stirred inside, her tiny face peaceful, nestled in blankets.
Alpine took a few tentative steps forward, her nose brushing against the edge of the blanket. She sniffed softly, clearly curious but cautious, still unsure about what exactly this new little human was.
Bucky smiled, watching Alpine for a moment before reaching down and gently lifting Julianna out of the capsule. He cradled her carefully in his arms, glancing at you for reassurance before holding her closer to Alpine.
“Come on, girl, get a good sniff. She’s your new sister.”
Alpine paused, her eyes wide as she leaned in to sniff Julianna’s soft, downy head. The cat's whiskers twitched, her nose brushing against the baby’s tiny forehead as she took in the new scent. Julianna stirred slightly, but her eyes stayed closed, her peaceful expression unchanged.
After a long, curious sniff, Alpine let out a soft, sweet meow as if giving her approval. Then, to your surprise, she rubbed herself affectionately against Bucky’s legs, purring gently, as if acknowledging that her place in the family was safe.
You watched the whole interaction, a warmth spreading through your chest. There was something sweetly funny about seeing this big, tough Bucky Barnes gingerly presenting his newborn daughter to a cat, as if it were some kind of sacred introduction.
Bucky chuckled, glancing down at Alpine as she rubbed against him again, her purring growing louder. “Looks like she approves of you too, kid,” he murmured to Julianna.
Satisfied with her inspection, Alpine backed up a few steps, her tail swishing lazily. She sat down nearby, watching with half-lidded eyes as if content that all was well in her world.
Bucky stood up carefully, cradling Julianna in his arms and grinning at you. “Looks like she passed the test,” he said, his voice soft, but with that usual Bucky charm. He glanced down at the baby, his eyes softening even more.
“Welcome home, Jules.”
× × × ×
Bonus scene: Flashback - A few months earlier…
You were lounging on the couch, feet propped up on Bucky’s lap as he absentmindedly massaged your ankles. A notebook was open on the coffee table in front of you, filled with scribbles of baby names. None of them felt right so far, and you were both at your wits’ end.
“Alright,” Bucky said, tapping his fingers on your leg, “we gotta figure this out. This kid’s gonna be here soon, and we can’t just call them ‘Hey, you.’” He gave you a crooked smile, but you could tell he was dead serious about the baby name situation.
You sighed, flipping through the pages of the notebook. “I know, but nothing seems to fit. We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”
Bucky looked up thoughtfully, then suddenly grinned. “How about... Buck Jr.?”
You stared at him for a solid second, deadpan. “Buck Jr.? Really? What if it’s a girl?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Then... Buckletta.”
You burst out laughing, nearly kicking him in the stomach with the way your feet jerked. “Buckletta? Are you serious?”
Bucky shrugged with a smug grin. “Hey, it’s versatile. Buck Jr. for a boy, Buckletta for a girl. Easy.”
“I am not naming our child Buckletta!” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes from laughing so hard. “That sounds like a medieval torture device.”
Bucky smirked, leaning back on the couch. “Fine, fine. What about something... strong? Like, you know, a name that’s got some weight to it.”
“Okay, hit me with it,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.
“Rock,” he said with confidence.
“Rock?” You blinked, wondering if he was messing with you, "Already with the Dad jokes?"
“Yeah! Think about it. No one’s gonna mess with a kid named Rock Barnes,” Bucky explained, grinning as if he had just come up with the best name in history. “It’s tough. It’s solid.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “We are not naming our baby after an inanimate object!”
Bucky raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Really? But you like Ruby.”
“Ruby’s a gemstone, Bucky. It’s different,” you argued, trying to hold back a laugh.
He finally laughed along with you, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Alright, alright! I'll stop. But we still need a real one, so...” He grabbed his phone back from you, scrolling through the list with a suspiciously mischievous look on his face. “Okay, let’s see... Princess Consuela Bananahammock?”
You smacked his arm, laughing again. “Are you picking names from Friends now?”
Shaking your head, you leaned over and grabbed the notebook, flipping to a clean page. “Okay, how about something more traditional? Like... Hazel for a girl?”
Bucky paused, his teasing smirk fading into something softer. “Hazel? I like that. It’s... nice.” He nodded thoughtfully, clearly warming to the idea.
“Yeah?” you smiled, glad that you’d finally stumbled onto something that wasn’t completely ridiculous.
“Yeah, Hazel’s good. But what about a boy’s name?” Bucky asked, shifting to a more serious tone.
You thought for a moment.
“What about James?” you suggested, giving him a knowing look.
He immediately shook his head. “No way. Too many bad memories tied to that name.”
You frowned, understanding. “Alright, then something classic but strong... like Julian?”
Bucky tilted his head, considering it. “Julian’s not bad. Strong, but not too over the top. I could see that.”
“And it works for a girl, too. Julianna,” you added with a smile.
Bucky’s face lit up. “Julianna Hazel Barnes.” He let the name roll off his tongue, testing it out. “That actually sounds really nice.”
You grinned, feeling like you were getting somewhere. “Right? It’s got a good flow.”
He nodded, then leaned back against the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But seriously, you’re sure we’re ruling out Buckletta?”
You threw a pillow at his head, laughing. “Absolutely. 100% no to Buckletta.”
Bucky caught the pillow and chuckled. “Okay, okay, no Buckletta. But just so you know, if we ever get another cat, I’m naming her Buckletta.”
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munson-blurbs · 7 months ago
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Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.
A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰
WC: 3.8k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers
Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika
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“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”
“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”
You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down. 
“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”
He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.” 
He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them. 
“I’m serious.”
Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”
“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint. 
“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?
“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”
He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office. 
Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again. 
Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground. 
You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner. 
What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone. 
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Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl. 
Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates. 
“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”
Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”
You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.” 
“Really?”
“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”
Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around. 
Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.
The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe. 
Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves. 
“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing. 
“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination. 
Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though. 
A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.
“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman. 
Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction. 
You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen. 
Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone. 
The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”
“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”
A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”
Eddie smirks. “One…two—”
Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits. 
Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself. 
Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land. 
His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though. 
Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet. 
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?
Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk. 
In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside. 
Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit. 
“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”
“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you. 
“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”
“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds. 
“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”
“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”
“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”
He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”
“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so. 
“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”
A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”
“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”
“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”
Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”
“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”
He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey. 
All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—
A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”
“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”
“Don’t care.”
Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies. 
Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs. 
Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately. 
“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.” 
You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch. 
Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter. 
“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you. 
The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice. 
One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible. 
“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”
He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom. 
The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.
“Get the fuck out!” you hiss. 
Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.
Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.
“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.” 
Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them. 
Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”
You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind. 
“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”
“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle. 
A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”
“Only for you,” you echo. 
He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”
The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror. 
When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.
“Atta girl,” he praises. 
At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”
The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle. 
He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”
You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip. 
“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading. 
“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached. 
“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”
You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.” 
Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl. 
One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”
“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles. 
“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”
He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you. 
Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him. 
A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.
“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.
“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”
Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in. 
The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.
“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had. 
Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown. 
“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”
A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.
“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”
A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can. 
“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”
You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”
Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur: 
“You read my mind, Beautiful.”
--
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