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whataperfectwasteoftime · 1 year ago

Text

Spilled Ink

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike x f!reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: Uhhh Marcus Pike as the world's softest tattoo artist that's it that's the fic.

Warnings: Lots of tattoo talk, obviously, which includes needles, tattoo guns, pain, mention of bleeding, etc.; reader is explicitly coded as neurodivergent because I said so; yearning; lots of kissing; Marcus Pike being a goddamn menace and he fucking knows it

A/N: @kedsandtubesocks made a post about Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike (original post HERE) and then I wrote 7.5k words in 12 hours, as one does. All credit for the idea goes to the amazing Erika who entrusted me with this idea and THANK GOD SHE DID because I don't think I could have gotten it out of my stupid brain otherwise. Header pics credit go to Erin @perotovar, who made these with Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike in mind and I'm just WOOFWOOFBARKBARKBARKBARKHOWL. Thanks also to @littlebirdsbookshelf who suffers through HOURS of me sending screenshots every time I write anything. Love you <3

Additional Note on Canon: I am pretending that we never got to see Marcus Pike in short sleeves in the show despite it happening twice. He has full sleeves on both his arms in this fic that he covered up during his time working at the FBI. Because sleeves are hot and I said so.

Masterlist

It’s not unusual, these days, to wander down the sidewalk staring at your phone. Some people are texting. Some people are reading the news–because hey, this is D.C. Others, like you on this brisk morning, are watching the little blue dot on a tiny representation of the city streets, trying to find the address you had typed into the search bar.

A text box pops up, informing you of your arrival, and you finally look up.

No wonder it took you so long to find the place–it’s hardly what you expected at all. You always picture tacky neon signs, bars on the windows, undesirables milling about on the street, smoking cigarettes.

Okay, so you admittedly don’t actually know much about tattoos.

All you know is that you want one–a fact you confessed to a friend over lunch the other week: a conversation that led you here.

“Okay, so get one,” she had said bluntly.

“It’s not all that simple,” you had protested.

“Why?”

“It’s just… it seems like a lot. Mentally. Physically. I’m not sure I have what it takes.”

“They don’t hurt that bad,” your friend had insisted.

“I’m not just talking about that, I’m talking about… y’know, just everything. The noise. New people. Strangers touching me. It just doesn’t seem like something I’ll be able to do.”

“Oh. Ohhh. Because of the… yep. Actually I might have something for you,” she said, taking out her phone and scrolling through that app that drives you crazy–it’s overstimulation in a convenient package–full of noise, chaos, and flashing lights.

She must have seen you pull a face, because she held out her hand placatingly.

“Just finding the name of the place, hang on. It’s a shop right here in DC that went ‘viral’ for this video of a guy with autism who wanted a tattoo to commemorate his dad, but he was only comfortable lying on the floor–so the tattoo artist just… got on the floor with him! It was really cute, and anyway I guess he caters to all sorts of people, so… I dunno. Check it out.”

And here you are. Checking it out.

The words “Government-Issued Ink” are spelled out on large windows, and the punny name–apt for its location not far from the Capitol–makes you snort.

The shop is bright, warm, and inviting–tearing down your outdated preconceptions that tattoo places must always be run-down, dark, and dingy. It’s also empty this early in the morning, save for a lone figure in the back, seated at a well-worn desk, his head pitched forward over his work.

He’s so enveloped in whatever he’s sketching that he must not have heard the light ringing of the bell as you had entered. You watch him for a few moments–taking in the graceful movements of his hand and the way his fingers grasp the pen. He’s dressed in a plain blue button-down dress shirt, which also doesn’t fit your assumed archetype of ‘Tattoo Artist.’ You can’t see his face; his head is leaning forward too much and a few short locks of dark brown hair obscure your view.

Suddenly wondering if you’re being incredibly rude, staring at someone without announcing your presence, you open your mouth to introduce yourself.

“Um.”

While not exactly eloquent, it serves its purpose. The man startles and looks up in surprise.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, jumping to his feet and letting the pen clatter carelessly to the desk. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s okay,” you shake your head rapidly. “I was, um…” You blink a few times, your nerves getting the better of you as the man comes around his desk to approach the front of the store.

“Interested in a walk-in consultation?” he offers, holding out his hands in a gesture that could either be an open invitation or a shrug.

“I don’t know,” you confess quietly. “I was thinking about getting, uh, a tattoo, and I was told this shop was… good. With tattoos. And other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” he chuckles, smiling warmly.

“You know… with people who… might not be good at getting tattoos.”

“What makes you think you aren’t ‘good at getting tattoos?’”

“A hunch,” you shrug, expelling a little huff of laughter through your nose. “I was told to ask for a Marcus Pike?”

The man’s smile widens. “You’re looking at him.”

Oh. You aren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. Marcus Pike is well-dressed and clean-cut, almost startlingly so. You scan up and down, looking for any sign that this man could possibly be a tattoo artist, but the only evidence you can find is a small black target inked between his thumb and forefinger on his right hand. Don’t… tattoo artists usually have more ink? Of course, with him almost completely covered from head to toe, you obviously can’t create a full picture of Marcus’s skin, but the fact that he wouldn’t look out of place in one of the nearby government buildings still takes you by surprise.

You realize you haven’t said anything in response, but Marcus doesn’t seem to be bothered by your deer-in-headlights stare. Instead, he grins again and steps sideways, extending his arm in a silent invitation to come deeper into the shop.

“Come on in. If you’d like, go ahead and sit wherever you want, and we can talk about it. No pressure,” he promises. “I’m not here to push ink on you like a used car salesman; I’m here to collaborate with you. Figure out what you really want. And, if what you want ends up being ‘nothing,’ I totally support that, too.”

There’s something innate and intrinsic about Marcus Pike that sets you completely at-ease. You cast your eyes around, taking in the eclectic seating in the shop–all mismatched, all different colors, styles, and shapes, but all looking incredibly comfortable and inviting. You settle on a giant turquoise beanbag that seems to swallow you whole when you sink down into it, and Marcus grins and sits down in the bright yellow saucer chair beside it.

“So at the very least, you’re thinking about a tattoo,” Marcus leads. “Can you tell me about that?”

You nod, feeling encouraged by his openness. “Yeah, so… my mom, she passed away a couple of years ago, and it just seemed like I should… memorialize her in some way. Like, in a way that leaves its mark on me like she left a mark on me, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of getting some kind of permanent art that commemorates her.”

“That’s a great idea,” Marcus says softly. “Lots of people choose to do that after losing a loved one.”

“Yeah, the only problem is that I’m not good with um… noise, or people touching me, or… pain, really,” you confess. “I’m like, the worst candidate for getting a tattoo that exists.”

Marcus chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Personally, I don’t believe that. I think anyone can get a tattoo done if they want it, provided they get it done in a way that feels safe and comfortable.”

“My friend, she uh, recommended your shop because apparently you’ve done some stuff for people with autism and it went viral on TikTok…” you ramble, “and I thought maybe that meant you’d be a good fit for… for me.”

Understanding flickers in Marcus’s expression, and he nods, a small smile spreading across his face. “I hope so,” he says with quiet earnesty.

A beat passes–just a few seconds of silence–but something small and soft and warm settles down between the two of you, and the comforting feeling sinks down into the pit of your stomach and stays there, latent and waiting.

“So, let’s talk design,” Marcus announces. “Do you have anything in mind? Any images or ideas, however vague? I can do anything from replicating designs to building something completely from scratch for you.”

“I like the idea of it being a unique piece,” you tell him.

“I prefer original designs too,” he says. “Not to sound incredibly cheesy, but there’s no one like you, you know? In–In the general sense, of course.” He chuckles sheepishly, looking down at his hands. “I like knowing each person that comes in here leaves with something unique. Something all their own—I’m rambling,” he says quickly, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink. “One thing about me is that I talk too much. Anyway–did you have any ideas you can share with me about what you’d like?”

“I don’t have a good image in my mind,” you confess anxiously. After all, how can he build a design based on the swirling, disjointed images in your brain? “I think I want it to be colorful, like she was. And… I keep getting thoughts about, I dunno, the cyclical nature of life, something corny like that.”

Marcus laughs. “Sometimes the corny stuff is what sticks with us. So, colorful and commenting on the cyclical nature of life,” he lists off on his fingers, still grinning. “Anything else?”

“I’ve looked through your galleries online,” you tell him. “You have a few that look like watercolor paintings, and I really love how they look.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I’m gonna throw out an idea—Feel free to tell me ‘no,’ because I’m just brainstorming here, but I keep thinking about a tree of life. The leaves could easily be done in watercolor and could be any combination of colors you want.” His right hand twitches–as if reaching for a phantom pen–as he speaks, and his gaze seems to be fixed on a spot on the wall, his eyes glimmering with enthusiasm as he starts to speak faster.

“You could have the leaves and the roots connecting on the sides, making a circle, maybe even having her birth date and death date embedded in the roots…” He blinks rapidly a few times, as if dispelling the image from his head. “Anyway. That’s a possibility.”

“I think that’s amazing,” you say softly, watching Marcus with something like amazement in your expression. “Actually… I really like that idea. It sounds… perfect.”

“Oh,” he intones softly, looking at you in surprise as a bright, toothy smile breaks across his face. “Oh. Well then, let’s do it, huh? One final question: where do you envision getting it?”

“I was thinking on my shoulder. Here,” you indicate, pressing your hand to the skin of your upper arm. “That way it’s visible when I want it to be, but easily hidden if for some reason it needs to be.”

“That’s perfect,” Marcus says. “Plus, the circular design will go really well there. Okay. Great. Um, some things to know about the process. We’ll exchange emails, and you can contact me at any time with any questions, concerns, ideas, changes, anything. In the meantime, I’ll get started on a design for you, and I’ll share initial sketches that you can give feedback on before I move to the final stages of the design. It’ll take a couple of weeks, maximum, depending on any changes you ask for. My only request is that you’re always honest with your feedback–don’t tell me you like something when you don’t. I promise, it won’t hurt my feelings.” He grins widely. “After that, you book an appointment on a day that works best for you. I almost always book the whole day for the appointment to factor in time for copious breaks and making sure you feel comfortable. Does that work for you?”

You nod eagerly.

“Last question,” Marcus says. “Is it okay if I get a close-up picture of your upper arm? That way I can make sure it fits the curvature of your arm, it’s the right size, stuff like that.”

“Mhmm,” you nod again, pressing your lips together and trying not to look nervous. Thank god you wore a sleeveless top under your sweater.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he insists.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say quickly, removing just the one arm from your outer layer and pulling it aside.

You watch as Marcus grabs a little ‘point-and-shoot’ digital camera from his desk and comes back to your side.

“This is just used for design purposes,” he promises. “I delete them after the design is done.”

“I trust you.”

His resulting expression could light an entire room. “Thank you,” he answers quietly. “Okay. Super close-up, just your arm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you confirm, and you hear the camera click several times.

“Actually,” Marcus says, still staring thoughtfully at your bare shoulder. “Would it be okay if I made a couple of little marks–washable marker, of course–to make sure the dimensions are how you want them?”

Oh. You normally don’t like it when people touch you. You knew it was going to happen eventually, obviously, because how else was he going to get the design onto your skin? But it was something you had planned on working yourself up to, not something you had to do today. On the other hand, something about Marcus’s entire bearing makes you inexplicably ache to be touched by him.

“‘No’ is an acceptable response,” he interrupts your dithering with a quiet reassurance.

And actually, that works to seal the deal for you, and your decision is made in an instant.

“Yes. You can. That’s fine.” And, to your surprise, you mean it.

Marcus seems just as surprised at your answer–his eyebrows shoot upward almost comically at your response.

“Okay,” he says softly. “That’s perfect. Hang on.” He jumps up again to retrieve a black marker–from what was clearly a children’s set of washable markers. He meets your eyes, and again you take in that sincere, earnest, patient look that endeared you to this man from the moment you entered the little shop.

“Is it okay if I touch your arm?” he asks quietly, still watching you carefully as you nod.

“Tell me if that changes,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze to your shoulder again. His touch, when you feel it, is just as warm as you’d imagined. He’s gentle, cautious, and when he speaks again, his voice remains at that same, soft volume and tone. “I’m envisioning being from about here–” he makes a little black dot, “–to here. What do you think?”

You nod. It’s the perfect size–large enough to cover your shoulder but stopping just above the point where the sleeve of a regular t-shirt would hit.

“That’s perfect.”

“Okay, so that’s–” he tsks softly, measuring the distance with his finger, “–about four inches, so that same distance across, and–” he makes two more marks on either side of your shoulder. “About like that. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you answer, smiling with enthusiasm.

“Great! Let me just…” Marcus draws a few short lines denoting the proposed boundary of your design, and you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you at the cool tip of the marker on your skin.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “One more picture?”

At your nod, the camera clicks one last time.

“Like I said, that’ll wash off with soap, no problem,” he promises with a smile. “Thanks for that, makes it easier to scale.” He grabs two business cards off his desk and hands them to you. “Can you write your email on this one for me? And you can keep the other one. Like I said, anything you need, just email me. And uh, barring that, you’ll be hearing from me in a week or so with a rough sketch. Okay?”

You scribble down your email and hand the card back to Marcus before pulling your sweater back over your bare arm. You slip the other card into your purse and rise to your feet. “Thanks,” you say, nodding to him.

“Hey, no–thank you,” Marcus returns. “Thanks for entrusting me with this. I mean it.”

Surprising yourself, you extend your hand toward him, and, when he takes it, you feel enveloped with warmth again.

“Thanks,” repeat, a little bit more breathlessly this time, before turning and hurrying out of the shop before you can embarrass yourself any further.

Your shoulder still tingles from his touch hours later.

Rather than it being a week before you hear from him, you receive an email from Marcus Pike just three days later.

Subject: Initial Sketch

Hello,

Please see attached. It’s just pencil for now, but I made a note of the general blocks of color I was thinking for the leaves. You’ll see what I mean when you open the file. Sorry, I know it’s a pretty rough sketch, I was just excited to get this to you. I look forward to your feedback!

Best regards,

Marcus :)

Eagerly, you open the attachment. First of all, there’s nothing “rough” about the sketch other than the fact that it’s just penciled in. The details are already so intricate, and you find yourself smiling in amazement as you take in the design.

It’s beautiful.

Brackets, each labeled with a different color in Marcus’s neat, tidy handwriting, surround the top of the tree. Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Violet.

At the bottom of the image is another handwritten note: *All the colors will blend together and the result should look like a rainbow.

Tears spring, unbidden, to your eyes, as you feverishly type out your response.

Subject: Re: Initial Sketch

Marcus,

I really don’t know what to say other than it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect. Made me tear up. Look forward to seeing it in color.

Thanks again!

Not even five minutes go by before your phone vibrates with another email.

Subject: Re: Re: Initial Sketch

I’m sorry if I made you cry! Obviously wasn’t my intention but I’m glad the design evokes emotion :) I’ll move forward with the design as-is and you should hear from me soon with a full-color image.

Marcus :)

You can’t wait. The next week and a half stretches out excruciatingly, but finally, on a Wednesday evening, you receive another email.

Subject: Final Design

Hey there!

Hope you’ve been doing well. Thought you might like to see the final design of your tattoo ;) See attached and let me know if anything needs to be changed. Be critical! Don’t hold anything back! Once we agree on a final piece, we’ll get you on the calendar.

Best regards,

Marcus :)

Your mind skims over the fact that Marcus used a winking-face emoji in your email, because you honestly aren’t equipped to process that right now, and open the attachment instead. This time, you start crying in earnest. It’s perfect. The colors are so vibrant, and they make the tree look as though it’s in a constant state of movement. Your mom’s birth and death dates are entwined seamlessly into the roots themselves, in a way that makes them not readily apparent at first glance, but seeming to just appear out of nowhere upon further inspection.

Subject: Re: Final Design

Marcus,

If I had any critical feedback, I would share it, I promise. But I have nothing. This is everything I’d imagined and more, and it means the world to me.

Thank you so much.

After a few more messages back and forth, you settle on a date one month out.

You can’t wait.

As excited as you’ve been for the past month, when you step foot back into Marcus’s little tattoo parlor, the air of finality makes your body thrum with anxiety.

You’re really doing this.

Marcus is at the back of the shop, busying himself with setting up his workspace when you enter. Today, he’s wearing a dark green henley that looks just as soft as he is, and seems to complement his features even more. As soon as he hears the chimes, his head snaps up, and he grins widely.

“Hey!” he calls out excitedly. “Just getting everything ready. Do you want something to drink before we get started? I’ve got water, juice, soda…” he trails off, waving his hand in the direction of a mini-fridge in the corner.

“I’m okay for now.”

“Sounds good, but when we take a break, you should have some juice or something else with a bit of sugar in it, okay?” You nod, and he continues. “Okay! Where do you want to sit?”

“Don’t I have to sit in the chair over there?” you ask, gesturing to the traditional chair and bench near Marcus’s work table.

“Not at all,” he protests. “The table is mobile, I bring it to wherever you feel comfortable.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “I’ll go ahead and sit in the chair, though.” Of all the options, it looks like the easiest–you aren’t entirely sure how Marcus would be able to comfortably tattoo you whilst sitting on a bean bag chair.

“Your choice,” he insists, spreading his hands out in an open and unguarded stance.

You settle in the chair and he sits down on a rolling stool beside you.

“Okay, so I’ve got a stencil of your design here,” Marcus says, holding up a paper with an outline of the tree for you to see. “It’ll transfer onto your skin exactly how you want it to go, and I’ll just trace it. Make sense?”

“Yep,” you nod.

“Before I do that, though, I have to make sure nothing interferes with the design, including tiny little hairs.” He holds up a pink safety razor. “Are you comfortable with me doing this for you?”

At your tentative nod of consent, Marcus leans forward and gently swipes the razor up and down your shoulder until he’s satisfied. His eyes dart between your skin and your face the entire time–making sure you’re still with him. After he’s done, he talks you through the stencil–confirming its location, gently applying it to your shoulder, and then holding up a mirror for you to approve.

“It’s great,” you whisper excitedly.

Marcus returns your smile and begins to absentmindedly roll up his sleeves in preparation to start working–-and the question about tattoos that you’d asked yourself upon first seeing the man is suddenly and unexpectedly answered.

You can’t help the soft sound of surprise that escapes from you when you catch the colorful patchwork of designs on both of his forearms, disappearing under the pushed-up henley and suggesting that they go all the way up.

Marcus catches you staring and grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I didn’t know,” you say softly. “You keep them covered up.”

“Force of habit,” Marcus shrugs. “I had a desk job for a long time.”

“Doing what?” you ask, curiously. You can’t see the man doing anything but this.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” he jokes, winking in your direction.

Ignoring how the wink makes your heart stutter in your chest, you bark out a laugh at his answer. “What? Were you like a secret agent or something?” you tease.

“Special Agent,” he corrects, grinning.

“Get out,” you deadpan. “I can’t imagine you as a Fed.”

Marcus shrugs, giving you another one of his boyish, crooked smiles. “Would’ve been fifteen years this year had I not finally seen the writing on the wall and run for the hills a couple of years ago.”

“What made you leave?”

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “That’s a long story. How sensitive are you to noise?” he asks, abruptly changing the subject.

“Uh, I dunno. Kind of depends on the day and the situation,” you shrug.

“Fair. Well, I usually let newcomers listen to what the gun actually sounds like, so there are no surprises. If it’s too loud, I do have noise canceling headphones.”

And miss out on hearing Marcus’s soft-spoken reassurances? No matter how loud the tattoo gun is, you’d rather endure it just to be able to hear him talk.

Marcus turns the instrument on, and the room is filled with a mild buzzing sound. On your worst days, admittedly, it would probably grate upon your nerves, but you’re feeling relaxed, comfortable, and excited about your new tattoo.

“It’s not bad,” you tell him truthfully.

“Perfect,” he grins. “Are you all set to get started?”

Heart rate increasing with pleasant anticipation, you nod giddily.

“I’m obviously gonna be touching your arm a lot,” Marcus says, “so let me know if you need a break from that, the noise, the needle, anything.” Seeing your solemn nod, he continues. “I’m gonna do a little dot right here to let you see how it feels, okay?” He gently touches his index finger to your skin to indicate where.

“Okay.”

The gun turns on again, and Marcus presses it lightly against your skin for just a second before pulling back.

“...That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I thought it would hurt more,” you confess.

Marcus laughs. “Well, the same feeling over and over again in a small area can start to be pretty uncomfortable. I’ll check in regularly to make sure you’re still doing fine. Good?”

You smile widely. “I’m really excited.”

His smile softens, his gaze becoming warmer and more tender. “I’m glad.”

His other hand gently cradles your arm as Marcus leans in, a look of intense concentration settling over his features as he begins the design. Engrossed in his work, you take the time to study his forearms. They’re a hodgepodge of designs, clearly done at different times and by different artists, but you can see themes throughout. He likes classic styles, you can tell, and in between some of the more traditional works you can see beautiful references to an assortment of famous paintings. A Dali melting clock here. A sunflower clearly inspired by Van Gogh there. On his opposite bicep, you can just barely make out the side of one design that looks like it might be of a Greek statue. Tilting your head, you realize it’s Nike alighting on the bow of a warship, and you inhale sharply. That’s one of your favorite sculptures.

“Still okay?” Marcus asks, glancing up at you with concern in his eyes.

“Sorry.” You shake your head quickly.

“Just checking,” he says softly. “Try to be just a little more still, okay?”

“Sorry,” you repeat, laughing sheepishly.

“Don’t be, you’re doing great.”

You try to fight the way your entire body seems to grow warm at Marcus’s praise, but you can’t stop the way the feeling stampedes through you. You’re being ridiculous, you chastise yourself. He’s doing his job, and you’re getting all moony-eyed.

In order to distract yourself, you continue playing ‘Spot the Famous Artwork’ on Marcus’s sleeves–although, as distractions go, it’s not your best work. You can’t help but focus in on the way his forearm cords with muscle as he holds the tattoo gun, controlling each movement so delicately and precisely, creating a beautiful, intricate design on your shoulder.

After finding a bit of yellow patchwork that's clearly a reference to Gustav Klimt's The Kiss near his right elbow, you break your silence.

“You like art, huh?”

It seems like a stupid thing to say to a fucking tattoo artist of all people, and you immediately kick yourself internally for saying something so obvious.

Marcus glances up, and, seeing how your eyes are focused on his own ink, smiles. “Always have,” he murmurs, returning his gaze to your shoulder. “Some of those are years-old.”

“Is that how you got into being a tattoo artist?” you ask.

“Sort of,” he answers, brow pinched in concentration as he continues working. “I uh, apprenticed for a shop in college to pay the bills before going to Quantico for training.”

“You’re really talented,” you tell him. “I was surprised to find out you haven’t been doing this your whole life.”

Marcus hums his appreciation as he carefully fills in a root.

“Can I ask what made you join the FBI instead of opening your own place after college?”

He huffs a little laugh through his nose. “Parents would have killed me, going to college and then doing nothing with it.”

“Running a small business isn’t exactly doing nothing,” you point out.

“Well, public opinion on tattoos wasn’t what it is now,” Marcus says. “They were scandalized by my apprenticeship, but it paid the bills, so they couldn’t complain too loudly.”

“Was it them who wanted you to join the FBI?”

“Mm, not so much,” he murmurs. “It was more like ‘whatever you want to do, so long as you can make a lucrative career out of it.’ Being an artist wasn’t one of those things, so in lieu of becoming one myself, I decided I wanted to protect them instead.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Protect them how?”

Marcus grins up at you and waggles his eyebrows playfully. “Art crimes,” he answers. “Being an art detective was kind of in the limelight in the early ‘nineties after the famous Gardner Museum theft, and I got swept up in the craze.”

“So you spent the last fifteen-ish years recovering stolen art,” you fill in for him.

“Stolen, forged, looted, illegally traded or smuggled…” Marcus offers, not breaking his concentration again. He wasn’t wrong–the repeated drag of the needle across what felt like the same square centimeter of your skin was starting to wear on you.

“Uh-huh,” you say, forcing the discomfort out of your tone.

Noticing the tightness in your voice immediately, Marcus’s movements stop. “Feeling okay?”

You shrug.

The gun switches off.

“You gotta be honest about how you’re feeling,” he reminds you. “I might be able to create designs based off of customers’ vague descriptions, but that doesn’t make me a mind-reader.”

“It’s a little uncomfortable, but I can endure it,” you insist.

“There’s no need to endure something that’s painful,” Marcus argues with an amused smile. “Even if it involves choosing to repeatedly jamming a needle into your skin.”

You can’t help but laugh, and your heart swells when he joins you.

“C’mere,” he says. “Let me show you something.”

You let him lead you to the other side of the shop, where he stops in front of a large storage cabinet that you'd assumed held various supplies. When he opens it, however, you find that isn’t the case at all.

No, the entire cabinet is filled to the brim with a collection of stuffed animals just as eclectic and varied as the furniture. There's also a couple of shoeboxes filled with every manner of fidget toy you could ever imagine.

"You can grab one, if you want. I know it might feel kind of goofy, but I promise they help with the pain."

"Okay," you breathe. Your gaze lingers first on the IKEA shark, then on a very soft-looking cactus with an adorable grumpy expression, but when your gaze lands on the largest and arguably oddest toy in the collection, your hands can't help but move toward it.

"The big guy, huh?" Marcus laughs, taking the giant squid off of the shelf and placing it in your arms. You have to laugh at how large and ungainly it is; its massive black eyes stare vacantly back at you, but the effect is dopey, rather than menacing.

"Where do you get all of these?" you ask in amazement.

"Most of them are gifts from past clients, including that one," Marcus says, indicating the squid. "But I think he originally came from the Smithsonian. I was told his name is 'Cthulhu, Lord of the Deep.'"

"Thank you," you say in a small, appreciative voice.

"'S'fine," Marcus shrugs. "Feel up to continuing?"

You nod, looking down at your partially-inked shoulder. "Guess you didn't get very far before I had to stop," you remark, somewhat self-deprecatingly.

"It's not a race," your artist says earnestly. "We've got the whole day, and we go at your pace. You're paying me, after all." Another wink in your direction.

"Yeah," you nod, confidence growing again. "Yeah, okay." You plop down in your seat, with Cthulhu in your lap, and Marcus takes his place beside you.

“Gonna turn this back on again,” he announces as the now-familiar buzz fills the room, “and I’m gonna touch your arm–” his fingers wrap warmly and gently around your skin, “–annnd here we go.”

The needle scratches insistently against your skin, but it isn’t so bad–not really, not with the hilarious giant squid on your lap and Marcus’s gentle, soothing voice in your ear. He talks while he works, sometimes asking you questions about your own life–to which he listens intently and always seems to have follow-up questions–and sometimes telling you stories of his own. You discuss art, obviously, but also music, books, movies, and baseball of all things.

You find yourself wondering if he has this type of easy rapport with everyone who comes in, but you assume he must. He might be the most disarming person you’ve ever met, and it’s hardly a stretch to believe he’s like this with everyone. Still, there’s an ugly, jealous part of you that wishes the connection between you was unique, special. That he’s only this warm with you.

Marcus was right–squeezing the stuffed toy on your lap is a perfect distraction from the discomfort of the needle, and before long, the sensation fades into the background. As the time drags on, though, the persistent drone of the tattoo gun causes an ache to creep in and settle between your eyes. You take in a deep breath through your nose, count to three, and exhale slowly through your mouth.

Marcus glances up, watching you for a split-second before cutting power to the gun and stretching his back with a satisfied sigh.

“Break time,” he announces. “Hand’s getting a bit sore.” He shoots you a knowing glance and another one of those crooked smiles. “And you should probably have a little something to drink, maybe a snack.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you say gratefully as he walks over to the little fridge.

“Apple juice?” he asks, holding up a little juice box that looks slightly comical in his large hands. When you nod enthusiastically, he hands it to you.

His fingers brush yours.

If it were anyone else, you’d recoil, but it’s him. It might just be the forced proximity, but…

You’re developing quite the crush on Marcus Pike.

Shoving the thought aside for the moment, you stab the straw into the little hole and take a long sip. Marcus settles down beside you with his own choice–a little can of vegetable juice–and holds it up in a silent ‘cheers.’

Feeling emboldened, you ask the question that’s been burning in your mind since you started.

“So what made you leave the whole ‘helping other artists’ thing behind and start a tattoo business instead?”

Marcus presses his lips together, and for a moment, you fear you’ve crossed a boundary. Just before you’re about to apologize profusely, though, he speaks.

“Have you ever just… woken up one morning, and realized that everything you were working toward, everything you thought you wanted in life… was a lie?”

“I… I don’t know,” you confess quietly, surprised at the emotion behind his words.

“Happened to me,” he laughs softly. “I had moved to DC for what I thought was my dream job, with who I thought was–” he shakes his head, as though dispelling an unpleasant thought. “I had spent my entire life checking boxes: College degree? Check. Well-paying job? Check. House? Check. Check, check check. I spent so much time trying to get ahead, like life was some kind of game to be won. If I said all the right things, did all the right things, if I did everything right… I’d have the life I wanted.”

“What was the life you wanted?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“It was bullshit, is what it was. Saw one too many rom-coms as a kid, I suppose. I thought I was after the picket fence, the dog, the wife and two-point-five kids, that sort of thing. And one morning I woke up, realized that… that relentless pursuit of something I couldn’t even hold–it was all bullshit.”

“So you just… quit?”

“I quit. I wanted to create things again. I wanted to feel inspired. After a bit of uh… frantic soul-searching before I ran out of money entirely, I sold my stupid, too-big condo that I hated and bought this shop instead.”

“Did it work?”

“Well, I’m not bankrupt yet,” Marcus says dryly.

“No, I mean… did you feel inspired again?”

“I did. I do. So very much so,” he says, his voice soft and gentle. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and that comfortable warmth that had settled in between you the first time you had met him… grows. Mutates. Until the warm, tingling feeling feels a lot more like electricity.

An unspoken moment seems to pass through you, but then Marcus clears his throat roughly, setting the empty can aside and standing again, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Wanna keep going?”

Breathlessly, you nod.

In no time at all, you’re settled back in the chair with one of Marcus’s warm, strong, large hands cradling your arm as the other gently wields the tattoo gun. As he starts to fill in and blend the colors, the pain starts to increase, and you worry one of the fuzzy tentacles back and forth in your hand as you grit your teeth.

“I know, I know,” Marcus soothes quietly. “The color’s the worst part, but you’re being so good for me.”

It helps you to watch him work, so you do. He’s blending in the colors now, and you watch with interest as it starts to take shape. It’s so mesmerizing that you hardly even notice the buzz of the gun or the light sting of the needle anymore.

“And you said you ‘weren’t good at tattoos,’” he teases gently, noticing your obvious interest.

“Did I say that?” you laugh, teasing back.

“I believe your words were, ‘I’m like the worst candidate for getting a tattoo that exists.’” he reminds you. “And look at you now, huh?”

You duck your head at his praise, unable to withstand the intensity and honesty in his gaze.

“Doing okay after all, I guess,” you say with a sheepish smile.

“You’re doing amazing,” Marcus corrects, smiling warmly. “The type of client any artist dreams of.”

You don’t know how to respond to the things this man says to you. Stunned and at a loss for words, you stare awkwardly at your hand where it still wraps around Cthulhu, Lord of the Deep.

“I’m sorry.” The words are soft, concerned. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just meant that your enthusiasm and your curiosity is the stuff that makes me want to be an artist in the first place.”

“Are you saying I inspire you?” you try to tease, but it falls flat.

Just audibly, over the hum of the tattoo gun, you hear his whispered response.

“Yes.”

As Marcus wipes away the last of the stray ink on the purple bit of tree, the tattoo gun suddenly switches off. The silence is almost shocking, and you blink rapidly in confusion.

“Break time?” you ask.

Marcus chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “It’s all done.”

“It is?” you ask, although you can see the answer for yourself in the large mirrored wall to your right.

“How’s it feel?” he asks.

“My arm kind of aches,” you confess, “but oh my God, Marcus… it’s beautiful.”

It’s his turn to preen under your praise, the tips of his ears blushing pink as he grins back at you.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says softly. “Here, let me give you a little something for the pain.”

He squeezes a glob of light-green cooling gel and coats the angry skin with the barest of touches. “Still okay?” he asks, glancing up at you for confirmation.

After the harshness of the needle, the soft press of his fingers is more soothing than ever, and you have to resist the urge to sigh and melt into his touch.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“You’re going to want to keep this covered for a couple of hours, up to overnight,” Marcus says as he carefully applies a dressing to your shoulder–still softly, but more businesslike than before as he walks you through all of the instructions for care. “Once you take this off tomorrow, you’ll probably see some fluid leaking from it–that’s totally normal. It’s blood, plasma, and extra ink, and it should stop after a few days before it starts to scab over.

“You’ll want to keep it from drying out; I’d recommend scent-free, dye-free lotion if you don’t already have some,” he continues. “Wash it twice a day and put lotion on after. When it starts to scab, I can’t stress this enough: don’t pick the scabs.” He gives you a serious look. “Repeat that back to me.”

“Don’t pick the scabs.”

“If you do, you could cause it to scar, or even pull out the ink. One more time for me,” he prompts, and you get the feeling that this is always the sticking point in his speech.

“Don’t pick the scabs,” you repeat.

“It’ll take three to four months for the lower layers of skin to completely heal,” Marcus tells you. “During that time, keep it out of the sun, keep it hydrated, and you’re in the clear.”

“And don’t pick the scabs,” you say teasingly.

Marcus winks at you. “Exactly. Any other questions for me?”

“No, just… thank you. It’s amazing,” you tell him. “You did such an incredible job.”

“Hard not to, when I have such a beautiful canvas.”

Your eyes dart up, expecting to see a teasing glint in his eyes, but all you can see is heartfelt sincerity. You swallow thickly, and he tracks the movement, his eyes dropping down, then back up to meet your eyes. Is it… not just you? Does he feel it, too? Realization slams through you and threatens to overload all of your systems. Marcus’s lips are parted slightly, and the look in his eyes… it’s desire.

“Marcus…”

“Wait,” he says urgently. “Hang on. Come… come over here for a minute, let me–” he dashes awkwardly over to the till on the counter and gives you your total. Frowning in confusion–he wants to do this now? Interrupting that electric moment that had passed between you?–you dutifully swipe your card and numbly take the receipt.

“Now you’re no longer my client,” Marcus explains softly. “I–sorry–I was about to throw caution to the wind and kiss you, and I didn’t… I didn’t want to be unethical, I–”

“Yes,” you say simply, giving your response to his un-asked question.

It’s all he needs to stride forward, gently take your face in his warm palms, and, seeing no hesitation in your eyes even as he searches your face desperately—presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is as soft and as tender as the man himself, which hardly surprises you. Your eyes slip closed as his lips move against you with aching caution. He’s careful in all things, including this–taking your cues, giving you the lead, letting you feel everything he’s giving you.

All too quickly, he pulls back–but his eyes only sweep your face again, a growing smile on his lips as he sees nothing but want reflected back at him.

When he lowers his lips to yours again, he’s less gentle. One large hand leaves your face too hook around your waist, pulling you closer, closer–and when the proximity causes you to gasp softly, Marcus is ready. His tongue gently slips between your parted lips and you practically melt into him. When your knees buckle, his strong arms are what keep you standing upright, and still–

He can’t seem to stop kissing you.

You break before he does–pulling back to suck in a few shaky, heaving breaths, and he smiles through his own labored breathing.

“I wanted–I–” he begins, before hastily pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth as if he can’t help but do so.

“I’ve thought of you,” he tries again. “I thought of you like this for the last month,” the confession finally spills out. “I wanted to–wanted to kiss you so badly all day, but I couldn’t. Couldn’t let myself.” He kisses you again. “But now,” he promises, whispering the words against your mouth. “Now I’m gonna get my fill.”

To punctuate his statement with one of your own, you slant your head and deepen the kiss, wrapping one hand around Marcus’s neck and pulling him closer still. He makes a soft noise in his throat, and the grip on your waist tightens. You lose yourself completely to the feel of his tongue sliding slowly against yours, until he suddenly pulls back.

“I’m doing this all wrong,” he whispers–although he’s still smiling. “I wanted to ask you out to dinner, first.”

“So ask me,” you say with a giggle.

“Come have dinner with me,” Marcus murmurs, shaking his head in quiet amusement as he steals another gentle kiss. “Right now. Tonight.”

“You might have to open all the doors,” you tease. “My arm hurts.”

Another kiss.

“I’m wounded that you think I wouldn’t open every door regardless.”

“Are you always such a gentleman?” you remark with a wry smile.

Another.

“Well,” Marcus grins wolfishly. He places on last, lingering kiss on your lips and then makes a show of offering his arm. “Not always.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal

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theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

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much ado about nothing chapter 7 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

okay so i guess the responses i got on my "i have writer's block wahhh" post worked because GUESS WHAT I FINISHED THIS MORNING. this chapter!!! i have been aching to share this (even when it was half-done), i literally cannot wait any longer. this is an eren pov chapter so you guys already know it's going to be fun. lots going on, and please don't hate me for the end, i promise there's a master plan in place!!! i hope you guys enjoy :-)

specific cws: smut, rough sex, use of names (both endearing and derogatory so take that as you will), drinking, swearing, i want to give eren a giant hug

“Love sought is good; but given unsought, is better.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 1)

Eren has no excuse for any of it. No excuse for stepping in, for throwing Floch against the bar. He knows you, knows you have enough experience with awful men to know how to handle yourself. He just couldn’t help himself.

And now he’s gone and acted out again without thinking. The cold winter air sobers him up, brings Eren back to himself, and when he looks down at you, all cute and furious with him, the heat in Eren’s veins dies. A pregnant pause stretches between you both, you with your arms crossed and glaring up at him, and Eren, surely with hearts in his eyes, looking down at you, something apologetic beginning to write its way into his features.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Well, so much for that. The venom in your voice reignites Eren’s temper, fans the flames back into a full-blown inferno.

“My problem?” Eren growls, stepping closer to you. “What the fuck is your problem? I was just getting that prick out of your face. I’d think I deserve a thank you more than anything.”

“It wasn’t your place,” you huff.

“My place?” Eren nearly shouts, exasperated. “You’re the one who wanted to be friends so badly, was I supposed to just sit back and watch while he drooled all over you? Give me a fucking break.”

“That’s not– ugh, you’re really fucking frustrating, you know that Eren?”

It’s like watching all the ghosts of his past jump out at him through your teeth; Eren flinches, feels his fury rushing in his ears like a tidal wave.

“I’m–? Fine, fine, yeah, I’m the frustrating one. Definitely not you, throwing a goddamn temper tantrum over the stupidest shit imaginable, makes perfect sense. Really putting that smart little head to use, aren’t you?”

“Oh? ‘My girl’?” As soon as the words hit him, plunging through his chest like daggers, Eren’s blood runs cold. So you had caught his little slip-up. “What the fuck was that, then?”

Eren stutters, words caught in his throat at the worst possible moment. “Y-you know, like my girl, like you’re my friend or whatever.”

“Uh-huh,” you eye him disbelievingly, “you may as well have hiked your leg up and pissed on me in front of him. Am I supposed to be your fucking property or something because we had sex? Is that it?”

“What? No, I–” you’re faster than him, cutting him off.

“Don’t you already have your hands full with your ex?”

That crosses a line, pushes your fight into an entirely new territory. Eren’s eyes narrow. “Are you really bringing up Breeze right now? Like she…Jesus, like she even fucking matters?”

He watches the way you flinch when he says her name, the way your eyes widen, something he hadn’t expected out of you after with your little snide comments today. Interesting.

“She doesn’t matter to me, but I know she matters to you. As your friend, I’m just letting you know it sounds like a bad idea.”

“What’s a bad idea?”

“Getting back together with her,” you say, like it should be obvious.

It hits Eren like a truck; so that’s what’s gotten into you? You think he’s getting back together with Breeze, as if you didn’t text your ex that you were “totally in love with” on that godforsaken night at Paradise? Eren can still hear the slur of your words in that maddeningly confusing voicemail.

“Even if I was getting back with Breeze,” Eren snorts at the very idea, “which I’m not–”

“Oh yeah?” you counter, stepping forward to nearly touch your chin to his chest with how severely your head’s tilted up at him, “never took you for a liar, Eren.”

“A liar? When did I fucking–”

“Sasha saw you two at 104 the other day. You’re not fucking slick, you know.” Eren hates that tone in your voice, smug and wounded all at once. He wants to tear his own hair out.

“Oh, so you just know everything, don’t you?” Eren’s voice is shaking under his efforts to keep it at a low volume, keep you with him outside of your little bar and just make you listen to him. He watches your posture change ever so slightly, a shoulder turning towards him. “I was telling her to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Over coffee?” Your voice is still clipped, snarky. “Sure, Eren.”

Eren tries to keep himself in line, but his temper gets the better of him yet again, shooting out sharp and lethal. “Isn’t it a little hypocritical of you to avoid me over that, when it’s really you that’s getting back with your ex?”

Your eyes shoot open, and you spin on your heel to fully face him. “What?”

“You think I didn’t listen to your little voicemail?” Eren seethes, the full-bodied ugliness of his anger warping his face into a scowl. You don’t deserve the brunt of his temper, he knows you don’t, but he’s failing at every turn to reign himself in.

“You can’t throw that in my fucking face, I don’t even remember it,” you cut him off, eyes narrowed into little slits.

Eren freezes in place. The world around him seems to slow; the only thing tethering him to this plane is the way you’re looking up at him, furious and beautiful in the buzzing neons of Scout’s. He knew you’d been drunk, but not that drunk.

Hey, Eren– fuck, Stor, leave me alone! I’m just gonna talk to him really fast! Sorry, Historia’s all over me because I did something bad. I– I texted my ex, Luke. I never told you about him because he’s like, the worst, you’d hate him. But the funny thing is, I don’t even think I care? Maybe I do because I really was like, totally in love with him. Maybe he’ll text me back and we’ll fall in love again. But…I don’t know, Eren. I think about you all the time. I think I…I think I like you. Not like a friend, more than that. Wait, fuck, can I delete this? Just…I don’t know. Call me tomorrow or something. I want to talk about it before I can go down the black hole of Luke all over again. I know it’s not what you expected, and maybe you don’t feel the same, but…maybe we can just– shit, Historia, don’t hang up the–!

“Whatever I said was bullshit, I didn’t mean a word of it. I’m not getting back with my ex, or whatever else I came up with while I was blacked out.”

Your present-tense voice, affirmative and clear, snaps him out of his daze. I didn’t mean it. Every word of that voicemail that Eren knows so well, has basically memorized after listening to it day in and day out, trying to analyze every little drunken intonation of your voice– it was bullshit. Eren steels his jaw, musters up all the willpower he can dredge up in his body.

“You didn’t mean it,” his voice sounds alien as it leaves his mouth, distant.

“Yeah, exactly,” you’re mean, you’re so mean, not even stopping to acknowledge the sinkhole ripping open in Eren’s chest, “so before you rip me a new one, make sure that you’re not thinking about where you’d rather be right now.”

So you’re not just mean, you’re oblivious, it seems. For some reason, even through the shattering, crushing feeling erupting beneath Eren’s hoodie, it infuriates him. You just don’t see it, don’t see him. You didn’t mean a word you’d said to him in that damned voicemail, so he can’t tell you necessarily. It crosses his mind that maybe he can show you; the last dying ember of Eren’s rational line of thought sparks and spits at the idea in protest, but eventually chokes out, slowly dying in the tidal wave of emotion that takes him over.

“Oh, I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be,” Eren's voice starts low and venomous, but it escalates with each passing word, “trust me, I showed up just aching to get into it with you. Just dying to have you rip me apart for something that I didn’t even fucking do!”

Not even a lie, honestly.

“You’re such an– ugh!” You shriek, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“A what? Say it.”

“An asshole!”

“Is that what I am?” Eren’s backing you up against the bricks, making good use of his height to tower over you. Some sick part of him relishes in the way that, while your eyes remain blazing furiously enough to send a weaker man to his knees, your height difference forces you to cower under him. “An asshole?”

“Yeah,” you counter, glaring up at him defiantly, “you’re a fucking asshole, Eren.”

His proximity to you is making him dizzy and a little unhinged, and through the drinks and his anger and the mere inches between your heaving chests, Eren feels his blood start to run hot in an entirely different way. The leash he holds on his own temper, his own throat-closing desire, is dragging along the floor as he backs you fully against the wall, and Eren’s too wound up to bring himself to care.

“That’s not what you were calling me when I had my head between your legs, now is it?”

That shakes you, makes your jaw drop a little. Eren’s vaguely aware of your fingers twitching and clenching at your side, inwardly braces himself for a slap to the face. “Well, you weren’t acting like an asshole then.”

Eren smirks, leans into his own cruelty. “What, you jealous that you haven’t been getting all of my attention? Is that what’s got you acting all mean?”

“Cut it out, Eren.” Your eyes are telling him you’re still mad at him, furious even, but Eren doesn’t miss the way the rise and fall of your chest grows ever so slightly more frantic, the way your tongue darts out anxiously to wet your lips.

“Or what?” Eren leans down, boxing you in with one arm on either side of your head.

“I– we’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He widens his eyes innocently. “What am I doing?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you hiss, but if you ask Eren, it sounds an awful lot like a moan is lodged in your throat, like your words are lacking the conviction that you’re trying to muster. He pushes himself in closer to you, noses mere inches apart, a wicked grin splitting his face.

“Is it working?”

Eren’s lips meet yours at the same moment that his hand whips out to catch your arm where you’re swinging it up to slap him. A broken little whimper leaves your mouth, spills into his, as your arm slackens in his grip. Eren feels your free hand fist into the hair at the nape of his neck, lets a groan fly out into nonexistent space between your lips. He’s been driving himself crazy thinking about this moment, the next time he’d get to feel your mouth on his again if it ever even happened, what you taste like, the little noises you make. The moment that’s been keeping him up at night is finally here, inflating his wounded ego like a balloon, and it feels fucking good.

You bite a little too hard into his bottom lip, the tangy, copper taste of Eren’s blood leaking into the kiss, making it clear that this doesn’t mean everything has settled between you both, but for the time being, Eren doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way your plush thighs feel wrapped around his waist, how easily he can scoop you up and pin you against the wall, the little moan that slips from your lips when he presses the length of his body entirely into you.

He doesn’t take his time, doesn’t savor the moment like he’ll surely wish he did tomorrow; Eren devours you, running a hand up your bare leg and under the hem of your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing at your hips.

“Bet you’re wet under this short little skirt, aren’t you?” Eren huffs into your mouth, sucking on your tongue.

“Fuck you,” you spit, squeezing your thighs tighter around his hips.

“Is that what you want?” Eren whispers, dizzy and drunker on you than the three Jameson shots he’d knocked back at the bar.

“I–”

“Been thinking about it?” Eren can’t stop himself, trying desperately to keep his lips on yours through the spill of words from his mouth. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been so mean to me, grinding all up on me in that club, teasing me, then running off. Just wanted a little love, didn’t you?”

“That depends,” you pant, moving your face to kiss up his neck, leave little nips in your wake. Eren groans deep in his chest, pushing against you even more insistently.

“On?”

“How bad you really want it,” you bite into his earlobe, steal another shaky groan from him.

Eren’s not a submissive guy, not by any means, but the thrill your words send running through his veins just about makes him drop you.

“Want me to beg?” Eren growls, shoving into you and biting deep at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I’d only ever beg for you, baby.”

“Is that what you’re going to do? Beg for me when you’ve got another girl waiting for you?” Your anger has fizzled into a bitter sarcasm that goes straight between Eren’s legs and knocks him right in the ego all at once, tongue tracing the shell of his ear.

“Fuck– you’re my girl, my favorite girl, did you forget?” Eren grabs your face, forces your head back against the brick so you can look at him, eyes blown wide with lust and glossed over, mouth open in a desperate pant. “Told you the first time, you’re the best I’ve ever had. Didn’t think I was just fucking around, did you? It’s just you, only you.”

“Could have fooled me,” you dig your teeth into the thumb Eren’s worked between your lips, making him suck in a sharp ouch between his lips, “sure don’t feel like your favorite girl.”

“Sounds like I need to fix that, then,” Eren lets a hand trail down between the little space he’s leaned back to create between your bodies, finds his way to the damp fabric of your panties, “oh, who’s the liar now?”

“Don’t– fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head when he starts pressing into where he knows your clit is, rubbing insistent circles over the cloth just to elicit that reaction from you, rip the control right out of your pretty little hands. Eren chuckles down at you, dark and dangerous, amused at how quickly you melt for him.

“Thought we weren’t doing this?” He parrots your words from earlier, nosing at your neck. “Thought I was an asshole?”

“You are,” you grit out through a clenched jaw, but Eren notices the little forward push of your hips, notices that you’re trying to hold yourself back from rubbing yourself into his palm.

“And that gets you wet,” Eren counters, grinding the heel of his palm up into your clit and wrenching a little gasp from you, “bet you liked watching me in there, bet you would have loved watching me kick his ass for you.”

Eren pauses, waits to hear if you’ve got anything to say for yourself, but you’re already half-gone, rolling your hips against the steady rocking of his hand and whining in your throat. He smiles– god, you really are his favorite.

“Say it,” Eren growls into your skin, slipping a finger past the fabric of your panties to slide it into you, not the whole thing, but just a knuckle, just enough to make you shudder in his arms, “tell me you need me, want to hear you say what this perfect pussy’s already telling me. C’mon baby.”

Just as your mouth opens, either to answer him or snark at him, Eren can’t be sure, a cat-call from across the street snaps both of you out of your haze, your eyes flying wide. You shove at him, wriggling in his arms until Eren mercifully drops you to your feet, reaches down to right your rumpled little skirt for you. You glower up at him, look him up and down, and just when Eren’s about to bullshit some excuse to run home, fuck into his hand with your name on his lips, you surprise him.

“I mean, after all that, the least you can do is walk me home.”

The necessary steps of Eren closing your tabs, walking into the whipping winter wind, walking through the streets silently with Eren side-eyeing you as you storm along, arms crossed petulantly, commence. They go by in a blur; Eren’s not even sure he should be doing this right now with the lack of blood flow to his head. You don’t make eye contact, and if Eren had any more conscious thought at the moment, he would think you’re already regretting this before it happens, but he can’t bring himself to care, not yet.

He’ll kick himself for this as soon as the sun rises, but for now? The only thing he’s worried about lies wet and pulsing for him under the hem of your skirt.

The moment you’ve gotten the door open, Eren’s got you shoved up against the wall again, letting his hands find their way under your skirt and grabbing at your ass with a quiet groan.

“Historia?” he questions, nipping at your earlobe just because he can.

“Ymir’s,” you pant, pushing him off of you and practically storming to your bedroom. It hits Eren that for all the time you’ve spent together, he’s never actually seen your bedroom. He thinks that maybe he’ll do a little investigating of his own once he’s fucked all the fight out of you.

Safely behind the door of your bedroom, Eren wastes no time in yanking his shirt over his head, reaching for yours only to find that you’ve already rid yourself of the cute little sweater he had been admiring from down the bar back at Scout’s. You’ve got a pretty lace number underneath, one that Eren almost doesn’t want to take from you, but he reaches behind you and unclips it. Eren plans on taking and taking and taking everything you’ll give him, just for tonight, because the sinking feeling in his chest is telling him to do it while he can; a girl like you never sticks around a guy like him for long, and he’s already done himself the favor of ruining most of the potential your relationship had anyway.

“Eren– oh,” the broken whimper that leaves your lips snaps him out of his thoughts, reminds him that he’s got one of your breasts in his palm and the other nipple between his teeth. Eren wraps his free hand around your back, pressing his splayed fingers between your shoulder blades to arch you closer to him until he’s so full of you he can hardly breathe.

He’s going to keep taking from you, take until he drowns in it.

“Feel good? Missed me?” Eren’s words come out a little garbled around the flesh in his mouth, but you get the message all the same, managing a sarcastic eye roll through your arousal. You decline to answer him, but Eren can read your body, so he digs his teeth in harshly to the little swell of fat on the underside of your breast, sucks a bruise in to cut that eye roll of yours right in half. Eren smirks when your eyes flutter closed, a reluctant hand coming up to thread through his hair. “Thought so.”

“Can you just–fuck–get on with it?”

“Uh-uh,” Eren straightens back to his full height, backs you onto the bed until your knees catch and you fall onto your back, glaring up at him defiantly. “Gotta get you ready for me, right? I’m sure you remember.”

He eats up the doubt that flickers across your face, the memory of the first time you’d taken him all over your expression. Eren reaches beneath your skirt, pulls your panties down your legs delicately, rubs his hands along your thigh-high stockings with an appreciative swear under his breath.

“There’s a zipper on the back,” you wiggle a bit to try and reach the fasten of your skirt, but Eren slaps a firm hand onto your hip, pins you back onto the bed.

“Think I’m letting you take this off? After you were teasing me with it all night?” Eren says, stretching his body over yours, taking full advantage of his size to cage you in.

“I wasn’t teasing,” you huff, “these are just my clothes.”

“Anything you wear is teasing,” Eren brings his fingers to your core, swipes through the wetness gathered there, “especially when you look like this.”

You open your mouth to retort, but your jaw goes slack when Eren rolls over your clit softly, rubbing little circles into it at the perfect speed, the perfect pressure. He’s not interested in teasing you too much, he wants to feel you break on him as many times as you’ll grant him the pleasure. Once your little gasps have begun to swell into quiet moans, Eren ventures down, pushes his middle finger into you, all the way to the hitch. Eren answers your widened eyes and your little gasp with a sharp hiss between his teeth, marveling at the way your walls cling to his finger, sucking him in when he slides out and back in again.

“Just like the first time,” Eren murmurs, leaning down to take your collarbone between his teeth, “are you always this tight?”

“I– I don’t– more, please.”

Eren smiles around the mouthful of your skin he has, feeling his heart swell at how cute and airy your words come out, how clear it is to him, even if it’s only for this precious moment, that you’re just as desperate for him as he is for you. He grants your wish, working a second finger in beside the first, curling them cruelly against that spot in your walls that he knows gets your heart racing.

“Eren,” you keen, arching off the bed and tossing your head to the side.

“So tight baby,” Eren says in awe, pulling his head to watch as your cunt leaves little white streaks on his fingers, “so warm, can’t fucking wait to get my cock in you.”

“P-please,” you sputter, hooded eyes sparkling at the mention of it. Eren thinks wildly that he might be falling in love with the little unshed tears that prick your eyes when you start to get close, the little broken pleas you give him.

“You gotta cum for me first.” Eren works his fingers faster, can feel the fluttering of your cunt around his fingers. He realizes how worked up he must have gotten you outside of Scout’s, how you’re so wet it’s dripping down your soft skin onto the sheets, and you haven’t even cum yet.

“I’m– I just want you to fuck me,” you say, whiny and pitiful.

“I will,” Eren coos, “missed this messy little cunt so much, I promise I’ll fuck you, just give me one first. Gotta make it fit, right?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, hips bucking up towards him. Eren watches, drinks the sight of you in: skirt pulled up around your waist, legs spread wide open for him, slick spread all over the inside of your thighs, bottom lip tucked so tightly between your teeth he worries you might draw blood. He commits the sight to memory, his pretty little student all strung out and begging for his cock, begging him to make you cum. If he remembers right, if he curls his fingers just a little more harshly–

“Eren–” your head shoots up suddenly, eyes flying wide open, fists tightening in the sheets.

“Right there?” Eren grins, sharp and half-crazed, raising his eyebrows at the reaction the new angle has brought out of you.

“Right– oh, oh my god, I–”

“Give it to me,” Eren urges, working his fingers even faster, “come on, baby, show me how much you missed me.”

With a cry, you twist and thrash under him, cumming almost violently. Eren drinks it down, leans down to press a kiss against your open mouth, pins your body to the bed so you can’t run from the vicious waves of pleasure wracking your body.

“There’s my girl,” he mutters, licking against your tongue, “such a good, good girl for me.”

When your orgasm finally starts to ebb, Eren doesn’t let up, not entirely; he keeps his fingers working in a slow drag through your walls, appreciating the way your muscles twitch and the way you feebly shove at his wrist.

“Eren…” you trail off weakly, fingers finally locking harshly around his hand and pulling him from you, “too much.”

“Thought you wanted me to ‘get on with it’?” Eren snorts, finally obliging your earlier request and sliding your skirt over your legs, tracing his fingers up and down your thighs once you’re fully bare and beautiful underneath him, taking mental snapshots of every inch of smooth skin that he’s lucky enough to have under his touch.

“I do,” you say, eyeing him with a glint of annoyance in your eye. It just makes Eren smile bigger; you’re so cute when you’re mad.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Eren says, situating his hands under your arms and practically throwing you up against the pillows at the head of your bed. You widen your legs so he can crawl in between them, kissing his way up your torso in a self-indulgent, tender way.

“Do we, um…” you start to question him, and Eren’s close enough to your face now that he can feel your cheeks warm. He sits up a little, arches a questioning brow down at you.

“What?”

“Do we need to use a condom?”

Eren frowns, confused. “I mean, after last time, I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am,” you confirm, nodding slowly, some odd emotion flickering over your features that could be anger, could be heartbreak, “but I don’t know if, like–”

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” Eren catches your meaning, feeling his heart thud heavy and loud in his chest, “not since…”

“Oh,” you exhale quietly, nodding, “okay.”

“You?”

“Uh, no,” your voice is so low Eren almost doesn’t hear you, but he watches your head slowly lull side to side in confirmation, “no one else.”

Eren can’t excuse the rush of relief that courses through him, the swell of happiness to learn that no one’s gotten to see you like this since the last time he had. It goes straight to his cock, hard and drooling between his legs. Before he can get too wrapped up in the emotional side of things, Eren leans in hard to the horrible, possessive thoughts that have constricted him, laying himself over you and taking his cock in his hand, swiping it through the mess between your legs.

“Good.” He even surprises himself with that, looking down on you with dark eyes, eyes that promise ruin.

“Please,” you give him one more breathless plea, Eren swears you know too well how to snap his composure clean in half.

He pushes himself in, choking on a moan at how tight you are, vicelike and suffocating around him. A broken groan flies from your lips, your fingers tighten their grip on his biceps until Eren’s sure you’re going to break the skin, but he’s beyond caring. His mind wipes completely blank, save for the hot, wet heat that’s enveloping him, beckoning him to snap his hips forward viciously and be done with it. With what little self-restraint he can muster up, Eren flicks his eyes up to yours.

“So…it’s so–” another whimper cuts you off, and Eren can feel your thighs twitch on either side of his hips.

“Too much?” Eren manages to reign himself in, back out another inch or so.

“No,” you wrap a leg around his waist, shove him further into you and wrench a deep, guttural groan from his chest, “feels good, keep going.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Eren breathes, trying to retain any semblance of control over this situation, give you that dominant dirty talk that he knows gets you off instead of turning into a whimpering, moaning mess at the feel of you clenching around him. He bottoms out, feeling himself fuck all the way up into your tummy, head falling down onto your shoulder.

Eren manages to keep his pace slow and gentle, rolling his hips into yours like he’s making love to you, not saying goodbye. Little satisfied sounds are slipping out of your mouth, but Eren can see a flicker of consciousness in your eyes; you’re not drooling for him, out of your mind with want, not like the first time. He frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re…I don’t know, you seem like you’re somewhere else,” Eren hates having to admit that he notices, that he even cares, and the unsteady creak of his voice reflects that, just making him hate himself even more. You don’t seem to notice his vulnerability or, if you do, you aren’t affected by it. You simply raise an eyebrow at him.

“I mean…it’s good,” you say, eyes flitting around the room, like you can’t quite admit whatever you’re going to say while looking him straight in the eyes, “but I want you to fuck me.”

“I am fucking you.” Eren’s frown deepens into a scowl of annoyance. What, is he not good enough for you now?

“Well, literally speaking yes, you are fucking me. But,” a nervous giggle slips from your teeth, riling the anger starting to bubble under his skin again, “I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you.”

“Why are we talking about this while I am literally inside of you?”

“Because I want you to fuck me,” you raise your eyebrows meaningfully, canting your hips up towards him. It clicks– as much as Eren wants to show you what he feels because he can’t tell you, fucking you like an animal, as he’s prone to do, is what you want. Eren’s been so wrapped up in trying to relish whatever time he may have left with you before you inevitably cast him off to the side again, he’s not been paying attention.

“You want me to fuck you, huh?” Eren thrusts forward a little harsher, a little more pointedly. Your eyes roll back, a slow, indulgent smile spreading across your face.

“I want you to fuck me like I know you can,” Eren feels your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his ear to your lips, “unless that last time was all luck. Surely all those rumors aren’t false, are they?”

Eren knows you’re trying to get under his skin, to bite at him through the haze of the heavy air weighing down on both of you, to rekindle that anger that you had brought out of him outside of the bar. What is he going to do with you, incorrigible little thing that you are? If Eren Jaeger was a better man, he would stop this all right now, force you both to talk through the sharp, spiky things that hang in the balance between you two.

But Eren Jaeger is not a better man, he’s only a man, broken and needy and tucked into his favorite place on earth, with the girl of his dreams below him urging him to fuck her brains out. Is he really to blame?

Eren rips himself out of your grasp, standing tall and menacing on his knees over you.

“I’ll fuck you,” Eren grits out through a clenched jaw, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and shoving your knees towards your head, “but you better be ready to put your money where your mouth is.”

“Yeah? Well– oh,” a sharp, shrill cry of your own making cuts your voice off when Eren snaps his hips forward, brutal and unforgiving into the wet heat of your cunt. He doesn’t stop there, immediately pulling out and snapping forward again, hitting somewhere deep inside of you that, based on your face, he knows no man has ever been able to reach. He smirks, all cocky and cruel, setting a harsh pace that’s got you clawing at the sheets.

“What? Is it too much?” Eren whines down at you condescendingly, eating up the way you’re already whimpering and moaning. He can see tears glistening at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall.

“No, no,” your voice is broken, breathless, “it’s– fuck, it’s so good, Eren–”

“Is this what you wanted?” Eren growls down at you, locking one strong hand around your throat. “Wanted me to fuck you like the little slut you are?”

“Yes!” Your admission comes out in a choked, watery cry, the tears in your eyes finally beginning to run down your temples. Even if it wasn’t written all over your face, Eren can feel how much you like it; your pussy is fluttering, pulsing around him, begging him to keep going. He drives his hips forward like a man starved, a man whose life depends on fucking you until you can’t walk straight for a week.

“Who knew?” Eren muses to himself, wiping the tears from your face. “Who knew my pretty girl was so filthy?”

“I, I–Eren,” you moan wantonly, thighs shaking under his firm grip. Eren should hold himself back, knows that you’re going to be so sore in the morning, but a sick part of him is glad for it. Let you walk around campus with the throbbing ache of him inside of you, maybe he’ll fuck you so hard that little twinge in your belly when you sit down never goes away.

“Say it,” Eren urges, squeezing your windpipe, “tell me how much you love it, tell me how bad this pussy missed me.”

“I–” you choke out around his iron grip on your neck, “I m-missed you, I love it w-when you fuck me–”

“Fuck you like a whore?”

“Fuck me like a w-whore,” you wheeze out, face reddening with shame. Eren loves it, wants to kiss the blush off your cheeks and swallow it whole.

“That’s right, baby,” Eren releases your throat, watches the way you heave and gasp as the air flows back into your lungs, only to be punched out by the force of his thrusts, “you love my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes, I– oh my god, Eren, I–”

“What?” Eren sneers, smirking wickedly down at you, “is my smart girl already so fucked out she can’t talk?”

“No, I– I just– fuck!” You’re so loud for him, if he knew that fucking you within an inch of your life would get him this, Eren never would have bothered playing nice in the first place.

“‘ve barely even started,” Eren laughs, mean and sharp, “and you’re already fucked so dumb you can’t even think. Think you can cum for me, just like this?”

He doesn’t even have to ask; he can feel the way your cunt’s starting to tighten around him so harshly that it nearly pushes him out. He’s bullying his way back into you on every thrust, forcing you to open up for him, to take what he has to give. Inwardly, Eren hopes to god you do cum soon; he’s not going to last, not with you spread out beneath him crying and wailing his name. Eren doesn’t think he can hold out much longer without filling you up, watching his cum seep out of you.

“Eren, Eren, Eren–” your nonsensical babbling has started to take the shape of his name, Eren can feel his ego swelling and swelling to the point of bursting. There’s a tone of warning in your moans; the onslaught of an orgasm is threatening to pull you under.

“Don’t you dare hold out on me,” Eren slaps your thigh hard, the tacky, wet sound of it echoing through the room, somehow finds the wherewithal to piston his hips even faster, “want to feel it, feel you cum on me.”

“I’m going to, I’m going– oh Eren–”

Eren practically snarls, leaning over to spit in your open, waiting mouth. “What are you waiting for? Don’t you–fuck–want your pretty cunt stuffed full of me? I’ll give you yours, just gotta cum for me and give me what’s fucking mine. Go on–”

Eren’s rambling is cut short by the loud, raspy sob you let out, clenching down around him so hard it almost hurts, drawing a loud, long hiss from him. He looks down past your quivering thighs, sees the frothy white that’s streaking his cock, and he’s done for. He grants you a few more sloppy thrusts, and then with one final snap of his hips, he stills, holding himself as deep inside as he can manage, pumping you full of him.

Before he can stop himself, Eren’s crashing into you, bringing your lips to his in a messy, frantic kiss, open-mouthed and teeth clacking together. He can feel your body shaking violently underneath him, rocking with wave after wave of post-orgasm bliss, but he can’t seem to break himself from you, collapsed and clutching onto your smaller frame like it’s the only thing tethering him to this earth.

“Eren,” you finally say weakly, voice muffled as you smack at his shoulder, “you’re heavy.”

“Sorry,” he grunts, rolling off of you reluctantly. Your crumpled, naked form is still there, still so tempting and soft and warm. Your eyes are shut, so you don’t see Eren’s tentative hand reach for your hip, just wanting to rub a thumb comfortingly over the bone there, before he pulls back, second-guessing himself. A few pregnant beats pass by, Eren biting his tongue and holding his breath as he waits for you to make the first move, to direct him into how to speak to you after what’s just happened.

“I need to shower,” you finally say, words coming out in a breathless admission.

“Yeah,” Eren answers lamely, sitting up and looking around your room. There’s postcards from almost every country imaginable, tacked above your desk and fluttering in the breeze from your heating system. The desk itself is a wreck, dozens of papers and books scattered around in seemingly no order. Eren notices a little stuffed teddy bear tossed onto the floor and picks it up with a smile, placing it back against your pillows.

“Are you…”

“Am I…?” Eren looks at you, hoping that his pleading gaze isn’t too horribly obvious.

“I think Historia will kill me if she sees you leaving in the morning.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Eren swears he can see something like regret fly over your face, and you turn your back to him instantly, scrounging around on the ground..

“I don’t know,” Eren wheezes through his shellshock, trying to force out a nonchalant chuckle that only sounds strangled and tense, “she’s pretty short. I don’t know how she could manage it.”

“You’d be surprised,” you slip a bathrobe over your shoulders and grant him a mirthless smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Eren dresses in the heavy silence that’s fallen over the room, pulling his shirt over his head and having to inwardly brace himself to face you. Eren’s comfortable with himself, probably knows a little too well that he’s an attractive guy, but he feels completely naked even fully clothed when he turns around to see you, standing all cozy and fucked out and sleepy in your fuzzy robe.

“So…” Eren trails off, wanting to smack his own face for speaking first.

“Have a good night, I guess,” you look up at him and then quickly away, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. Eren steels himself, lets every bit of courage he can find in his body rise to his mouth, forcing it to move.

“Are we, you know, good?”

“Good?”

“We said a lot of things to each other back there,” Eren can’t meet your gaze, can practically feel his face burning as he scratches anxiously at the back of his head. When he forces himself to look at you, there’s something odd and unreadable in your eyes. Are you sad? No, you’re smiling. Well, sort of smiling– it looks contrived, not real. But you’re not angry, not entirely.

“Yeah, I’m good if you are.” That stupid, insincere smile is still twisting your features.

Eren doesn’t like the look of dishonesty on you, but he’s fought enough for tonight. He’s sad, spent, and tired, and he figures it’s hopeless anyway.

“Okay, good,” he makes his way to your bedroom door, fingers twitching for the feel of your skin under his, eyes damn near watering, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“See ya.”

And with that, Eren’s left alone in the cold of your apartment hallway, alone and sickened by the feelings of satisfaction and longing swirling in his chest.

#eren #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x you #aot x reader #aot smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #much ado about nothing #much ado universe #much ado uni

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penguinkyun · 8 months ago

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chapter 146 review

i feel a little insane about this chapter. alright not just a bit a lot oh my god we are so back everyone

before we begin, due to the nature of this chapter including himekawa airi, csa and child abuse along with a murder suicide are going to be mentioned so if you do not feel upto engaging please click off and take care of yourself

lets start with the filming scenes then. so we start with airi trying to reassert control and get into hikaru's head by telling him taiki was his son (horrifying) and how he would return to her because no one would love him (can i strangle her can i please please i really fucking want to this absolute-). this is the lead up to what is essentially the turning point in kamiki's life and hkai relationship: the uehara-himekawa murder suicide.

its so incredibly fucked that right after hikaru asks ai if she'll love him forever (as a direct response to airi manipulating him) she doesnt outright say yes (but she admitted she was trying to be honest and that is such a huge step forward for her) and when he tells uehara, the murder suicide happens. its a string of events very heavily culminating in an absolutely horrible situation for kamiki to find himself in. you can see from that panel of kamiki screaming that he absolutely did not mean for that to happen and it weighs on him. and speaking of weights…the Cut 156: Importance of Life comes right after the scene of the uehara-himekawa murder suicide. doesn't that name sound very Very similar to a certain dialogue?

honestly its this similarity that has me tentatively putting out an incredibly batshit theory that for some reason, before filming and the final script was produced, aqua and kamiki met and something in that conversation caused a noticeable shift in how kamiki was portrayed in film. because for a film meant to murder someone, its oddly sympathetic isn't it? even to the point ai herself becomes a little less sympathetic. almost like it isn't kamiki's sole responsibility (although he was definitely involved) of the murder of ai and that someone else was pulling the strings as well cough secret villain kaburagi-.

the shift is obvious in how frill calls it an extremely spiteful script…but once the final script is produced, both mem and kana point out that there is some kindness in the work, and that its difficult to say whether there is hatred or not. very shrimptresting.

this is also backed up by…how exactly did aqua know all of this? i doubt kamiki would've told anyone else except maybe ai, and the only person who would know all of this down to the exact detail is kamiki himself.

right this is becoming a full conspiracy theory that deserves its own post so lets move on

anyway this chapter was so good for hikaru-ruby and ai-aqua parallels because hikaru nearly begging ai to say she loves him and will stay forever is incredibly reminiscent of ruby asking aqua if sensei still likes her and not letting him go out of fear he'd disappear if she did so and how both ai and aqua deflect awkwardly in those conversations out of discomfort with the question being presented to them and out of a desire to not outright lie to kamiki and ruby respectively

sidenote: goddamn the acting in this chapter. frill deserves several many awards for this film

sidenote sidenote: in movie!kamiki flopping onto ai was so adorable askjfsks ruby flopped the same way onto ai (in the bath scene in the volume extra)

and before we get to the next section let me just-

screams

kana nation we are so fucking back.

this really is the start of aqua opening up!!! finally. i wonder what shift caused this given how intent he was on Never Telling Anyone but man am i so happy its happening. aqua being happy for the first time in quite a while like…how many chapters has it been? he's happy for 0.6 seconds!!! he giggled!!! im so happy aqua is actually happy askhfsks

aqua also now has a specific wry smile when talking about his mental health (just like ai has a very specific suffocating smile when shes trying to deflect)

kana’s response to this is honestly incredibly in character in that expression of concern she has seconds before she decides to keep the status quo of bickering esque dialogue that she has with aqua (likely trying not the overwhelm him) but very clearly expressing that she doesn’t want aqua to die and extracting the promise from him that he wouldn’t do so. then proceeding to act extra silly to try and cheer him up. kana i love you

aqua dropping the “i find myself happy when im with you” inhales. please excuse me while i go scream into the void. aquakana lets fucking goooooo. and kana quietly saying it back when aqua leaves? auuuuuughhhh

and finally, the real star of this chapter: KAMIKI’S BACK WITH THE MILK THIS IS NOT A DRILL HES BACK

so many things are interesting about these last few panels because at first i thought ruby was at ai’s grave but on a closer look she’s actually at a shrine? hm. for whom i wonder. did crow girl finally get fed up and tell her to give reverence akfsjsks.

thing is, i don't think ruby’s in danger. because back in the chapter where kamiki debuted (c.72) he…never actually expresses any hatred or dislike towards her? honestly its rather reads like he’s proud of her and also nino apparently confirmed to kamiki that she wasn’t like ai so if that is his actual motive she’s not in danger of being killed for that. akamengo are the real antagonists of this series for the break next week fr. don’t you love oshi no ko our favourite biweekly manga

so this is an interesting ground for a father-daughter conversation isn’t it?

#oshi no ko manga spoilers #oshi no ko #chapter review #oh wow what a chapter #im going to be chewing over this for weeks #edit: i have completely forgotten several things i wanted to address incl. timeline but honestly. i might just make that another post

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waitingandwishing · 2 months ago

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Army Dreamers pt. 6

(Cross posted on tumblr and AO3)

Prev - Next Chapter

'Goddamn… this place is big…' Y/N thought as she swerved through trees and jumped over roots. She didn't feel anyone's presence whatsoever so she supposed she was safe. For now.

She started to travel within the forest vicinity before she met with the Zoldyck Manor. Such a grand place for a grand family of assassins. 'Wait… this seemed easy. Too easy…'

“So you are Killua’s… Friend. ” A woman’s voice called out to her, her voice spilled with malice. Great, she jinxed herself...

Y/N turned to see a woman wearing a grand outfit and bandages covering her face and neck area. She wore a full-length, deep purple gown with multiple layers and white frilled trims. The dress featured a corseted bodice with a high collar and several tiers of ruffles on the skirt. The sleeves were long and fitted, with additional white frills at the cuffs, adding to the elegance of the ensemble.

The woman wore a large, wide-brimmed hat, also purple with a pink top. The hat was adorned with decorative elements like a feather and a band of lace and flowers. It was like a tacky Victorian sort of outfit that Y/N despised. Whether it was the outfit or the unsettling feeling the woman gave her she wasn’t sure. It was probably both.

“After everything I’ve done for my sweet boy? I’ve been all alone, worrying about whether he’s okay. His friends are keeping him away from his true potential! Is that what you want? To take away his future?!”

Y/N sighed, no wonder Killua wanted to leave. His mother seemed unbearable. “No, ma’am, I’m just here to talk to him…” She lied with a slight bow, shuffling her violin case on her side.

Killua’s mom growled, “Who’s going to take care of him like I do? You can’t be his friend! You are nothing but a L/N! A weak excuse of strength!” His mom yelled before gasping, “What?! What do you- No!!! No, no, no, no!”

Y/N stood there, slightly confused at the older woman’s outburst. Sure, Y/N was technically still a child, but what was this womans excuse of acting like one?

“UGH! Fine…” Killua’s mom said before turning to Y/N, “Come, little girl. Someone has… Requested you. ”

Y/N hesitantly followed, although she didn’t know if Killua’s mom was just putting on an act just to kill her. She sighed as she followed the woman, gripping onto her violin case.

Y/Nwas placed in a room, sitting in front of an old hunched back man as he stared at her with an unreadable expression. She sat across from him, slightly confused and weary of what was happening as she clutched her violin case.

The old man wore a sleeveless overcoat with purple accents around the edges. The vest has a distinctive design, including a large gold collar around the neck with small black and gold details. He had spiky, silver-white hair styled upward (The color reminded Y/N of Killua), and a prominent facial hair design, including a long, thin mustache and pointed goatee.

“So you are Killua’s friend?” The old man finally spoke and Y/N nodded before speaking.

“One of them. The rest should-”

“I am aware of Killua’s other friends. Though I don’t seem to see the point.” The old man said, “You are aware that you are an L/N, correct?” He asked and Y/N nodded.

“Of course. I take pride in my last name.” Y/N said and the old man made a noise of… Disapproval? She was slightly confused, how did they know she was a L/N? She didn’t remember telling Killua anything and she was sure he wouldn’t have said anything either way.

“That’s good to know. You know the L/N's have been close to the Mafia, correct?” The old man asked and Y/N nodded once again. “And they have been recruiting the Zoldyck’s for as long as I’ve been alive?”

“I know that we had some relations with the Zoldyck family. And I’m well aware that this is the Zoldyck mansion.” Y/N said.

“Well, then that is all.” The old man said and Y/N frowned, slightly confused. The old man caught her expression and slightly smiled. “You are excused.”

Y/N nodded, grabbing her violin case and exiting the room. She was weary of what would happen next. Was she just supposed to talk? What was she even supposed to be doing now?

“Eh?! Y/N!?” A voice yelled and Y/N turned to see Killua walking from another room. Y/N widened her eyes.

“Killua?!”

“What’re you doing here?!”

“Coming back to get you, obviously!” Y/N said before hugging him tightly, “What were you thinking?! Idiot…”

“Hey, I’m supposed to call you that! And get off me.” Killua said, making a weak attempt to push her away yet he seemed to be grateful for her hug.

She pulled apart and examined his face, “What the hell happened to your face? You look like shit…” She muttered as she saw the whip marking on his cheekbone, tracing it with her thumb.

“Get off of me, moron!” Killua yelled, his face pink as he pushed him away.

“Oh, excuse me for being worried about my friend.” Y/N rolled her eyes before remembering, “Killua, are you… Leaving?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna come to see you and Gon.” Killua shrugged nonchalantly. Y/N smiled.

“Well, let’s go. C’mon, we can’t keep them waiting.” Y/N snickered and Killua groaned dramatically as they both walked together out of the house and down the dirt path.

“So, what happened when I was away?” Killua asked.

“Well, what happened when you were here? I’m sure that your family didn’t take kindly to you leaving.” Y/N said and Killua shrugged.

“Mild torture. Not much else happened.” Killua shrugged and Y/N’s eyes blew open.

“What?! Are you okay? I mean, you’re an assassin I get it but it still must’ve hurt.” Y/N said as she looked at Killua up and down, scanning him for any injuries.

“I’m fine, I’m fine! You’re like a mother!” Killua rolled his eyes, “When’d you get so worried about me, anyways?”

“When you left us!” Y/N said, “And I’m sure I’m a better mother than the one you already have anyways.”

Killua stared at her before snorting, “Pfft… Yeah, you got that right.” He snickered and Y/N stared at him before smiling. She was… Really glad he was okay. Of course she’d be happy he was okay! She’d be relieved if any of her friends were okay! It wasn’t just Killua, obviously.

They walked in comfortable silence down the mountain before reaching a large building, it wasn't as big as the Zoldyck Mansion, but it was grand.

"Gotoh, are they here yet?" Killua asked as the duo entered what Killua liked to call 'The Butler's Quarters'.

"Killua!" Gon shouted enthusiastically, standing up from his seat before his smile grew wider, "Y/N!"

"You were already here? Gon…" He looked over to the blonde haired boy and thought for a moment before speaking, "And this guy, um, Kurapika?"

"You remembered," Kurapika's face dimmed a little, almost as if he was disappointed.

"Reolio!" Killua pointed over at Leorio, hoping he was right.

"It's Leorio!" Leorio yelled and Gon laughed nervously. Both Killua and Gon started talking, Gon catching up on the things he missed. Killua also scolded Gotoh a bit, mad that he didn't tell them immediately.

"Y'know, I never got the chance to ask you what you were wearing." Y/N snickered and looked at his backpack, which looked more like a spider.

"What do you mean? It's just clothes," he gestured to his whole body.

"That backpack is hella confusing. Why does it have nine straps? And where did you even buy this?" She asked.

"You can't be talking when you've been wearing the same thing this whole week!" Killua argued and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Well, I haven't had a chance to change! I'm not dirty like that!" She spat back.

"Heh… Back into their old habits…" She heard Kurapika say to Leorio.

"They fight like an old married couple I swear…" Leorio muttered.

“Shut up, Leorio!”

Once everyone had agreed on meeting in Yorknew City on September first, Leorio and Kurapika both parted ways. Gon waved his hand at the airship, waving goodbye to both Kurapika and Leorio. "Guess it's just us now. So? What're we gonna do?" He asked, looking at both VY/N and Killua.

"You're seriously asking me that?" Killua shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at Gon. "We have to start training."

"For what?" Gon asked cluelessly.

Killua's lips quivered into a smile, as sarcastic as one could. "Remember what you told us a second ago?" Killua asked, getting close and personal with Gon.

"You think you can punch Hisoka in the face without training first?" He shoved his finger into Gon's cheek, already beginning to yell at him. "That would take ten years, forget about six months!"

He stopped and backed away when he saw a lady staring at them. Flashing her an apologetic smile, Y/N looked back at the two boys with a glare.

Killua sighed and crouched on the ground, grabbing a stick nearby. "Look, I'll break it down for you," She watched him draw Hisoka and Hanzo. A small line connected the both of them, "This is Hisoka," he pointed the stick at the portrait, "And this is Hanzo."

"Right," Gon said as Y/N nodded.

"If this is the strength gap between Hisoka and Hanzo," Killua tapped on the line. "The gap between you and Hisoka is…" He drew out the last word, grabbing the stick and dragging it across the dirt. He continued walking, even going across the dirt road.

"This wide!" He looked up at the two of them. "And I'm being generous!" He shouted.

Gon only frowned more as he watched Killua walk back. Raising a hand and pointing at him, he said, "Okay, and where would you go?"

"Me?" Killua turned back to the line, looking at it. "Well," he marked the ground with an 'x' "Probably here." Y/N could feel the smugness radiating off of him.

"Oh, ya? And where would Y/N go?" Gon asked, his whole face cross. Why did he have to drag her into this? She just wanted to eat…

"Oh, right here." Killua marked a spot right next to him.

"Wait, how am I less stronger than you?! I'm clearly on your level." Y/N frowned.

"Um… Who opened more testing gates than you?"

"That doesn't matter! You never said anything about physical strength!" Y/N retorted back, “Besides, we both could open the same amount of testing gates!”

"Well, boo hoo." Killua stuck out his tongue, "Stay mad."

"Shut up." Y/N hit his arm.

“That’s why you struggled to open the third one.” Killua hit her back.

“That’s why you’re literally white.” Y/N retorted.

"So Hanzo's the strongest one?" Gon asked, looking at the chart. "Wait."

"What is it?" Y/N asked, taking a few steps towards Gon.

"You really are awesome Killua!" Gon said. Killua blushed in embarrassment and looked to the ground.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he said, "Knock it off, will ya? It's embarrassing"

Y/N giggled, covering her laugh with her mouth as Killua looked away with an eye roll, his face clearly flustered.

"It's just, I don't know how to tell the difference between my opponent's strength and my own," Gon elaborated on his earlier statement.

"Doesn't really matter, dummy," Killua told him. Turning around, he waved his hand around, "It's only an estimate anyway. You get the general idea, right?" Gon nodded along and followed after him.

"With experience, your estimate will gradually become more accurate," Killua pointed his hand up and down, a small teaching motion. "However, the stronger someone is, the better they can hide that strength. So, I wouldn't recommend it."

He placed his hands inside of his pockets once again, sparing Gon and you a small side glance. "Anyway, Hisoka's strong. With just six months, we're gonna need to get creative," he looked back at them, turning his whole body around. "Do you have any money?"

"I only have 10 Jenny…" Y/N sighed, "I don't think that's enough for whatever you're about to suggest though."

Gon let out a sheepish laugh, "I'm a little low, too," he smiled.

"Well, I don't have much either," Killua said, leaning in close. "But there's a place where we can make some money and train at the same time," his eyes shifted to mine, for a split second, before looking back at Gon.

"Make money, while we're training?" Gon asked.

"Make money?" Y/N asked, ignoring the rest of it. 'Money?'

"At the Heavens Arena!" Killua told both of us, pointing a finger up.

"Heavens Arena? Oh…" Y/N smiled at the memory, "Me and my Mother went there once when I was 7. I wanted to compete so badly but she wouldn't let me."

"I'll explain it later," Killua said, "Now then, we should probably get going right now,"

"When we get to Heavens Arena," Y/N said, gaining the attention of the two boys, "Can we stop by a café or something?" She asked.

"Yeah, they probably won't have good food on the airship," Gon said, agreeing with Y/N.

"I don't see why we shouldn't," Killua nodded. "Alright! Get to Heavens Arena, get food, and then we register for our fights."

"Sounds like a plan." She smiled.

_____________________________________________________

Y/N checked herself out in the mirror, smoothing out any lumps from her new backpack. With the remaining money she had left, she spent it on a pair of new clothes.

She wore a fitted, black short-sleeve top, a pair of loose-fitting, patchwork pants designed in a two-tone color scheme: one leg is a teal shade while the other is a deep maroon.

Y/N wore a long, colorful beaded necklace that added a pop of color a belt with a large, square-shaped buckle.

The black ankle boots completed the look with a sturdy, edgy finish. She exited the shop, smiling to herself as she slung her violin case on her shoulder.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Killua asked in disgust. She ‘tsked’ and rolled her eyes.

“Oh calm your tits down spider back-pack, we’re all friends here.” Y/N smiled, placing her arm around Killua’s shoulder as they looked at the tall building across from the shop.

"Heavens Arena is 251 stories tall and 991 meters (3251 feet) tall," Killua said as Y/N tried to look for the top of the building. Several floors popped out and it was almost entirely white. It was sort of… Nostalgic to her. "Making it the world's fourth tallest building."

"Makes me wonder what the first tallest building is," Y/N muttered, staring at the large building. The three of them were all standing in a large line, a guy in a yellow bodysuit in front of them.

"Now then," Killua turned to Y/N and Gon. "The only rule here is knock your opponent out. Got it?"

"Maybe I'll get paired with a kid younger than me…" She muttered, "Means I don't have to try harder than I need to."

"There is a chance of that happening," Killua said, "As I said before, there are no rules so there isn't any age limit. A baby could enter for all they wanted." He swung his finger back and forth, before tightening it into a fist. "If you want to earn a living with your fists, Heavens Arena is the place to go."

The line continued on, slowly but surely moving to the front of it. Rocking on her heels, Y/N looked around at the shops and made a mental note to go there later. "So Killua, I wanted to ask about your family," Gon said, looking over at him.

He raised an eyebrow, "What about them?"

"You mentioned before that they wanted you to be an assassin and that's partly the reason you left," Gon recalled. "And you said that you scratched your moms face, which would explain the bandages, and stabbed your brother in the side, but Illumi didn't seem to be injured."

"Oh, it wasn't Illumi I stabbed," Killua responded. "It was my brother Milluki, he's the second oldest."

“Oh! Was that Piggy?” Y/N asked. Killua nodded, smirking at the nickname. "How many siblings do you have?" She asked, moving forward in the line. Killua stepped up as well. Gon trailed behind, staring at all the shops in the city.

"Let's see… Four siblings," Killua counted on his hands.

Y/N tapped Gon on the shoulder. "Do you have any siblings?" She asked curiously. Now that she thought about it she didn’t know anything about them.

"Nope!" Gon happily replied.

"I kinda guessed that," Killua said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah… Kinda makes sense." Y/N said, fiddling with the necklace around her neck.

The line continued moving and soon we were at the registration area. "Welcome to Heaves Arena," the receptionist said. "Now, if you wouldn't mind filling out this form…" She slid a piece of paper to them and handed the three pencils. The paper had the normal questions on it. Your full name, date of birth, age, e.t.c. Giving it back to her, she typed in some stuff on the computer and put the paper in a machine. It processed it, she typed a few more things, before turning back to them.

"Killua Zoldyck, you're number 2054, Gon Freecs, you're 2055, Y/N L/N, you are 2056. On the first arena floor, they'll be calling you by your number, so try not to forget it," she explained. Holding her hand to the side of you, she kindly gestured to the direction you had to go in, "So, go on ahead."

All three of them walked to where she pointed, arriving at the arena floor. The stands had people scattered all over them. Some were in groups, others were alone. There were sixteen matches currently underway, the audience in the stands cheering loudly for them.

Now this brought back memories of when Y/N first came here for her birthday. The three of them sat near the top, away from other people. "This place hasn't changed one bit," Killua said, sitting down with Gon next to him. Sitting at the end, Venus looked down at the matches.

"You've been here before, too?" Y/N asked, although intrigued, she didn't take her eyes off of the matches.

"When I was around six years old, my dad left me here with no money and told me to make it to the 200th floor," Killua explained, looking over at Y/N, "Took me two whole years. There are guys like Hisoka, but they stay farther up so I wouldn't worry about them," Killua said, his hands resting between his knees.

"And if we move further up?"

"We're only gonna be here for a small bit to make some money." Killua explained.

"Number 1973 and 2055 to Ring E," was announced through the intercom.

"That's me!" Gon stood up and took his bag off, "Oh man, I'm getting nervous now."

"You made it through the testing gate, right?" Killua asked. Gon nodded as he continued, "So relax, go out there and push hard!"

Y/N watched Gon walk to the Arena, growing somewhat nervous for him. He turned and looked at both of them, to which Y/N gave a smile and thumbs up to, before walking to the arena.

She focused on his match, before another announcement came on. "Number 2031 and 2056 to Ring C," the announcer called once again.

"Guess that's me," Y/N said as she set down her violin, “Make sure this doesn’t break.”

"Hey Y/N," Killua called out. Y/N looked over to him, "Don't worry, you can do it," he said, smiling. Her face scrunched together in slight confusion before breaking into a smile and nodded.

She waved him a quick goodbye before walking down to the stadiums. Stepping on the small platform, Y/N looked at her opponent. It was a tall, skinny person.

She had tan skin and dark sunglasses on. Her blonde dreadlocks swung side to side as she confidently stepped into the arena. Y/N noticed she had multiple piercings, red shoes, and a jacket.

"This is a first floor fight, so we will be appraising your skill levels," The referee said. "You're allowed three minutes to show us what you can do." He explained, looking at both of them. Lowering his hand, he quickly raised it while saying, "Begin!"

Without warning, the woman lunged forward with a lightning-fast kick aimed at her midsection. She sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the attack. The woman retaliated with a series of quick jabs, each aimed with precision.

Y/N deftly dodged and weaved through the onslaught. The sound of fists slicing through the air echoed in the arena, punctuated by the occasional grunt or sharp exhale. She was fast, and Y/N was slow. There was an obvious speed imbalance. The fight escalated, both combatants unleashing a flurry of kicks and punches.

As the intensity rose, she managed to land a solid blow to the woman's side. She winced but retaliated with a powerful elbow strike. The woman executed a spinning kick, which would've knocked Y/N out if she didn't grab her leg and spin her to the ground. She groaned in defeat.

The referee typed something into a pad and printed out a paper. "Number 2056, please proceed to floor fifty," He handed Venus the paper. The paper had a print of a dragon on top, the number fifty on the lower right corner of it, and her number on the bottom.

Some people came and took her out on a stretcher, making Y/N feel slightly better. Jumping off of the platform, she ignored the yells and shouts of the people from before. Her ears were ringing, maybe the crowd’s weren’t the best for her sensitive ears…

She grumbled, rubbing her face as she walked back to where she was before and saw Gon already sitting there. "Did Killua already go to his match?" Y/N asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Yeah, he's in that one," He pointed to Ring F, where Killua was up against a shirtless muscle guy. The man tried to throw a punch at him, but Killua reacted fast and gave a side chop to his neck. The referee gave him the paper that he gave the rest of them. Heh. Loser.

"So Gon, which floor were you told to go to?" Y/N asked him, tearing her eyes away from Killua.

"Floor fifty," Gon showed her the paper with the same print on it.

"Cool, so we'll be on the same floor together!" Y/N smiled and showed him her own piece of paper.

"Hey, so what floor did you guys get?" Killua asked, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. He probably already knew which one Gon had, so this question was more towards her.

"Fifty," Both Y/N and Gon said at the same time.

"Good, because I got the same," He said with a slight smirk, standing next to them.

"So, should we go there now or…?" Y/N asked and Killua helped her from her seat.

"Sure!" Gon stood up, following Y/N as they traveled through the hallways with Killua.

Killua opened up his mouth and spoke, "Alright, to floor fifty it is!"

#killua x reader #hxh #hxh 2011 #hxh fanfic #hxh x reader #kurapika #hxh killua #gon freecss #gon #gon x reader #kurapika x reader #leorio paladiknight #leorio

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robinismywifee · 2 years ago

Text

straight girl || e. williams

pairings ellie williams x fem!oc/reader

summary maria sends a straight girl with a boyfriend and ellie williams, a gay girl with a girlfriend, to go on a trip together but an unexpected storm traps them in a cabin. takes place in jackson, one bed trope? 19 y/o ellie, no spoilers, 3rd person pov, ellie has a crush on oc

warnings NSFW, fingering (r. receiving), scissoring?, pet names (babe, good girl), cheating, slight masturbation??

a/n be aware that aime is an oc and dont feel insecure or anything if she looks nothing like you, youre literally beautiful trust me, also you can always find my oneshots on my wattpad, also feel free to request stories 💕

wordcount 5.8k

ellie has always felt different towards aime. ever since she was 14, right when she first layed her eyes on her, she never took them off.

how she always walked around with a hudge smile on her face, her smile was so perfect, and her uneven white teeth only made it more perfect

when they first met, she had a soft pitch voice, and had soft features, making her face look so innocent and adorable, but as the years went on, her voice got deeper and more raspy, making her more captivating and euphonic, she still had softer features, but they almost shifted in a way to make her more elegant

along with her face and voice changing over the years, ellie noticed her body changed too, she grew more curves, her stomach always layed flat but her breasts were full, and from what you could see when she wore her laced tanktops she loved, they sat perfectly too..

something about her and her sandy blonde hair was just so alluring to ellie.

ellie wouldnt say she had a crush on her, the only time they would talk was during patrol, exchanging simple words and short sentences, or if they walked by, aime would make sure to smile at her and wave, but they never failed to make ellies mind freak out—

am i talking too much? is my hair okay? shit she looks so fucking hot. how do i make her laugh without making it seem like im trying too hard? what? did she just complement me? holy shit i think im gonna pass out. how can someone look so goddamn hot while doing literally anything?

—are typical things ellies mind would be yelling.

aime was well known around jackson, well known for being pretty, nice, happy, and hardworking

her looks never failed to amaze people, practically all the teenagers of jackson has asked her out, and she was really nice, if she knew your name and if you werent rude to her or other people (who dont deserve it), she would make sure to smile at you walking by, which is why anytime she saw ellie, she would give a warm smile, she also liked complimenting people, seeing there faces brighten up from a simple comment made her face brighten up, and all her compliments were always genuine, she would never lie and say she liked a shirt on someone if she didnt, which is also why she would compliment ellie, ellie was easy to compliment, she was so beautiful and nobody talked about her enough- plus ellies reaction everytime made aimes face yank a big smile, ellie would always get blushed cheeks and flustered

aime only ever did hard and dangerous work, she did patrols a lot, keeping the bad away from her people, and she was talented on trips, if for any reason she got kicked out of jackson, she would survive. she had great agility, knowledge, it wasnt her thing but she knew how to track and hunt, she scavenged better then others, she wasnt the strongest, but she definitely knew how to win a fight, usuing her smaller size to her advantage. she was smart, and she was genuinely a happy person.

"i know aime is like, really good with trips, ive gone on them with her before, but just the two of us? i mean seriously?" ellie complained to dina, "i don't get why your angry, shes a nice girl and shes a good person to go on a trip with" dina shurgged, dina and aime were actually good friends, not close per say, but they hung out when they could, if aime didnt constantly drown herself in work she would have more time for friends and dina, but for the past two months it was either work or daniel

ellie stayed silence at dinas remark, so dina continued, "you know.. before her and daniel started dating, you liked her, always coming home from those patrols ranting to me about how she complimented you and was super hot as she killed an infected, but now that shes dating him you hate her? why?"

this caused ellie to stop packing her bag and look up to dina, "dina, her dating some random guy i dont know has nothing to do with this! i just dont want to go on a whole ass trip alone with her, its gonna be awkward!" ellie defended, but they both knew that wasnt why ellie was so mad, "the trip youve known about for 2 days? really? thats weird, considering you've been mad and annoyed at her for the past 2 months"

"its just- you and her use to go on those 'friend dates' or whatever you weirdos call it, like every month, and now that she has a boyfriend she cant make room for you? or any other of her friends? like, if you walk by her, shes with her stupid boyfriend, holding hands and giggling like, what can he say to make you laugh like that? probably some stupid joke that isnt even funny, i dont even get why she likes him, hes ugly with his ugly hair and he's completely useless, he does nothing and he probably isnt even dating her for her!" ellie ranted, throwing things into her bag for the trip

dina laughed.

ellies head shot up to her, "what? why are you laughing? you asked!" ellie said frustrated, "you're totally jealous, arent you?" dina smirked, "what? jealous? dina shut up! you know im dating cat!" ellie said, growing more and more frustrated by the minute

"okay yeah, but you have liked aime for wayyyy longer then cat" dina remarked, "i dont like aime! i just think shes hot, and literally everyone else with eyes thinks that so shut it" ellie groaned, zipping her bag and running out of her door, dina laughed some more, "wait up!" she said through her laughs

the sound of the horses feet clacking on the ground filled the empty forest.

"so howd you sleep?" aime asked, trying to spark a conversation. they had just left, and it was awkward between the two. ellie had been avoiding aime- for the past 2 months- changing patrol partners and running behind corners when she saw her to prevent that spark she felt in her stomach when she smiled at her

"fine" ellie mumbled, "oh, well, better then bad" aime remarked, "mhm" ellie hummed dryly, they rode their horses side by side in silence for a little, "i havent spoken to you in awhile, how's your life been?" aime asked, looking over to the girl, "the same" ellie said, looking down at the horses mane, aime looked away from ellie, down to her horses mane, trying to think of ways to get her ranting like how she use to to her

"can you tell me more about astronomy?" aime asked, thinking back to how she told her about it a few months ago, "uh.. why?" ellie said blankly, "sorry.. just thought you liked that stuff, and its fun to talk about stuff you like, you know?" aime explained, cheeks red embarrassed

aime was confused of why ellie was acting so different from usual, usually ellie would be cracking jokes and puns, telling funny stories, ranting about things she liked.. and ellie did seem to disappear for awhile, did she do something wrong? i mean, ellie wasnt even looking at her, it wasnt weird for ellie to avoid eye contact, she actually did that alot, but she wouldnt even glance in her direction.

while aime was trying to figure it out, ellies mind kept on repeating over and over and over again, aime and daniel stupid kissing and 'i love yous' right before they left.

"hey ellie" aime said, first time speaking in at least 2 hours, "hm?" ellie hummed, "did i do something wrong? because im really sorry if i did, but could you tell what it is that i did? i would never do anything wrong to hurt you on purpose, ever, in my whole life, and i sorta just spent however long we've been out trying to figure it out and i cant" aime ranted, which was sorta out of charater for aime, and aime apologizing for something that isnt her fault made ellie finally look over at her with sad eyes

it wasnt aimes fault that she felt like this, it was her own fault for letting something so small get to her, and she just wasted hours of aimes time for her to try and figure it out. thats what ellie though, and it made her feel like shit.

aime was suprised ellie was looking at her, and confused of ellies emotion displayed on her face- it looked like guilt.

"you didn't do anything aime, dont be sorry, im just tired" ellie said to her, hoping aime would believe she was just tired, but aime didnt believe that it was that, somethings going on

"hey, theres the cabin tommy was talking about, like a few miles up ahead, should we take a rest and eat there?" aime asked ellie, looking down at the map unfolded out infront of her while still riding the horse

"yeah, its getting dark" ellie agreed with her, looking up at the clouded sky, it was pretty sunny yesterday, this morning it was partly cloudy, and now all you could see were clouds, aime didnt think too much about it since last she checked they were bright white ones, but as she watched ellie looking up at the sky she did too, now noticing the clouds turning grey

"you think it will start raining before we get there?" aime asked, folding the map away and sliding it in her pocket, "i dunno.. im more worried about how long its gonna last, if you look more east the clouds are really dark, it might be a bad storm and we would have to wait it out" ellie explained her thoughts

"true.. but atleast we're gonna have shelter, could you imagine how bad it would be if we weren't by the cabin?" aime smiled, trying to brighten ellies mood, "yea, that would suck" ellie scoffed, aime, smiled a little bit more, happy that ellie gave more emotion instead of blankly humming as a response

"so the cabins just east?" ellie asked, looking over at aime for an answer, aime still smiling, now smiling because ellie was actually looking at her, maybe she was just tired.

"yeah, no sharp turns or anything i dont think, as long as we keep going straight it'll come into view" aime nodded, "perfect.. straight towards the storm" ellie mumbled, "it probably wont be that bad, ellie" aime tried to reason, but ellie was caught off guard by aime using her name

"y- yeah.." she stuttered

ellie and aime pushed the bookshelf infront of the front door of the cabin, their clothes dripping wet, the thunderstorm whistling and lighting jumping, the sound of rain dropplets slamming against the windows

"shit" ellie panted, "its way worse then i thought it'd be" she said, catching her breath, "yea.. its pretty bad" aime agreed, also out of breath, the rain had started about half a mile before they got to the cabin, and when it was in view it started pouring, then it get even worse with hard rain and loud thunder, they had to run and tie up their horsed in a shed, and run into the cabin as fast as they could to prevent getting even more wet, but here they stood, soaked

ellie looked at amie confused, "what? do i look bad with wet hair?" aime asked, pushing the hair that stuck to her face behind her ears, suddenly feeling insecure under ellies gaze

"bad? no you can never look bad, i just didnt exepct you to agree on me with that instead of trying to convince me happy things" ellie explained to the girl, aime smiled at ellies compliment, which ellie didnt even realize she gave

ellie turned her head to look around the cabin, she immediately spotted a mirror, she walked over to it, taking out her tangled bun, pushing her hair behind her ears and started messing with her bangs

aime watched her doing it, if i was a guy id have the biggest crush on her, aime though, walking over to her, standing shoulder to shoulder, ellie stopped fiddling with her hair and started fiddling with her hands looking down

"you're really pretty ellie, cats lucky to date you" aime smiled looking to her, ellies head stayed down, but aime noticed a blush creep onto ellies face

ellie felt like she could collapse at her calling her pretty and using her name, but the though of cat made guilt consume her. how can she date someone but think about anyother person way more? or how can she get crazy butterflies in her stomach when some random girl calls her pretty but doesnt really feel anything when her own girlfriend does?

ellie did like cat, she did, but ellie was starting to think she didnt really like her. she was fun to be around and she made her smile, she also liked how cat didnt care what others thought of their relationship, but everytime her and cat would go by aime, ellie would always pull away from cat, untangling her hands from her, putting them in her pocket or pretending to scrach her arm until aime was out of view.

"did you bring any extra clothes?" aimes voice snapped ellies thoughts away, "uh.." ellie looked up at her, "i dont think i have any pants since they would fit in my bag but everything else yea" ellie thought, "i think i only have a tanktop and boxer breifs" aime mumbled, taking her bag off her shoulders and turning around-

she was too focused on watching ellie she didnt even have time to look around, and ellie was too focused on making herself look presentable to look around

ellie turned around too, the cabin was really small, they already knew that from the outside but it seemed smaller on the inside

there was one big bed, queen size maybe, a small kitchen and a two person dinner table, a big carpet, and a fireplace, there was also a door by the kicthen, probably the bathroom

okay, good, theres a comfy bed for us, aime thought, before walking over to the kicthen, setting her bag on the counter before opening ir and pulling out her clothes. she didnt mind sharing a bed at all, she shared beds with whe friends all the time, even with twin sized ones, it wasnt weird

ellie stood there with widened eyes, the thought of sharing a bed with her made her feel warm, but she shook her head and walked by aime, setting her bag down next to her and looking for her clothes

while ellie was trying to find her socks, she saw in the corner of her eye, aime slipping off her jacket, which was whatever, but then she pulled off her shirt and reached for the buttons of her pants, ellies face went red, she tried to focuse herself on finding the socks in her bag, but her peripheral vision wasn't allowing it, so she mindlessly shuffled through her bag making it seem like she didnt notice

but aime knew ellie noticed her changing, aime watched her face go pink as she slipped off her pants, she smiled to herself, shes so cute, if i was a guy i'd have the biggest crush on her, aime thought to herself

"you finding your clothes okay?" aime teased, ellie felt her face get even hotter, shit shes so hot- "u- uh, yea, just fine" ellie stuttered, moving her back so aime wasnt in her peripheral vision anymore so she could actually focus on finding them

aime got completely nude, as the rain had soaked through her clothes and her underwear and bra were soaked, slipping on white boxer breifs and a white V cut tanktop, her bag was really full and these were the only clothes she could fit as they were thin and tiny

aime walked over to the fireplace, sitting infront of it. once ellie had her clothes layed out, on the counter, she peeked her head thinking aime was still behind her, but she wasnt, so ellie looked over her other shoulder to see her on her knees trying to started a fire, ellie watched as her damp hair dripped down her back, going through her thin white too and down to her shorts, ellie couldnt help but stare at her ass.

aime felt eyes on her, she peeked her head over her shoulder to see ellie immediately moving her head away from her, aime smilied to herseld before going back to the fire

ellie turned her back to face aime, before getting undressed, placing her heavy wet clothes next to aimes, as ellie got changed, she stared at aimes light pink laced bra that layed on the counter, she started to get butterflies as she pictured what aime would look like in it, she shook her head feeling grossed out by herself and turned around now clothed

aime heard ellie walk over to the now lit fire, she moved her head to look up at ellie, aime didnt know it but her face went a shade of pink seeing ellie in a thick strapped white tanktop, it was tight but long, covering half her underwear- her underwear being greyish purple and sort of boxer breifs like aimes exepct hers were a lot shorter.

as ellie sat down next to aime, aime pulled out two cans of chef boyardiee ravioli, she passed ellie a can along with plastic forks, the only noises being heard was the fire crackling and the heavy rain- followed by thunder almost every minute

"so how are you and cat?" aime asked, eating the now warmed ravioli, ellie stayed quiet for a minute, "we're good" ellie shortly replied, aime nodded, "i really like the tattoo she gave you, you look super good with it" aime smiled, making eye contact with her

ellie got red from that (again) "so.. uhm.. how are you and daniel" ellie asked, trying to return the question, but her voice came out bitter, aime didnt realize ellies tone, now stuck in thought if her boyfriend she didnt like, aime shrugged, "i dont know"

ellies eyebrows scrunched, "what do you mean you dont know?" she asked her, watching aime as she stared into the fire, trying to stop her eyes from going down to her cleavage, "uh, its nothing, i do like him but hes just very needy and- touchy" aime tried to explain without outting herself for not liking him at all

"how so?" ellie asked, now invested, she thought they had the perfect relationship, "he basically moved in with me without asking, he complains that i work too much, and like.. he always tries to get me to do it with him, but i don't want to yet" aime said, she whished she wanted to, but everytime he would touch her she just would squirm away and would feel gross

ellie was dumbfounded, "wait? you guys havent done it yet?" she really thought they did it like every night, aime shook her head, "have you and cat?" aime asked, placing the empty can to the side, "maybe" ellie simply replied, aime nodded, "i figured" she said, taking a sip of water

"whats that supposed to mean?" ellie asked, "like every couple of jackson does it im the only one" she shrugged, ellie sipped water, "well, you and kaleb definitely did it" ellie almost mumbled, "what? no we didnt?" aime asked confused, kaleb was her ex boyfriend, they were together for about a year and half, before she found out kaleb had been cheating on her for almost a year.

"uh, you guys were together for over a year" ellie said, confused, "yea, i know, thats why he started doing it with other girls behind my back" aime replied, "he what?" ellie raised her voicd, growing angry at him, even though it was years ago when they broke up, the reason the broke up kaleb and amie told people they both just lost feelings

"oh shit- i didnt mean to say that, ellie please dont tell anyone, please-"

"i wont, but what the fuck?" ellie questioned, "next time i see him hes gonna kiss my fist" ellie said angry, "ellie! its not a big deal and it was years ago, who cares?" aime asked confused of why ellie randomly got mad

"who cares? you dont date someone and go fuck other people because they werent ready for it!"

"no, trust me ellie, its fine, i didnt even really care when i found out, i didnt really like him" aime shrugged, "huh? whyd you date him?" ellie asked, "i- im done talking about this" aime said, unsure of how to reply

they were silent for a few minutes, just staring into the fire- well aime was, and she thought ellie was too, but ellie was staring at her

ellies eyes trailed from aimes eyes, to her nose, to her soft plumpled lips, to her slightly wet neck, almost dry from the rain, to her full chest, to her damp white shirt, her shirt was damp enough that you could see her shape and her nipples from her not wearing a bra, ellies eyes trailed even ferther to aimes bottoms, flickering back to her breasts. her mouth began to water, she thought about what her lips would taste like, what her skin would taste like, how perfectcly her hands would cup her breasts, how her pussy would taste- ellie tried to stop her thoughts but shes been holding them back for too long now, and they kept pouring into her head, ellie wondered what her face would look like, what noises would come out, she thought about her screaming her named-

ellie felt herself grow wet, she couldnt stop it, "im gonna go to the bathroom" ellie mumbled, standing up and walking to the door in the kitchen, she entered the bathroom, it was small, just a toilet, a sink, and a standing shower

ellie locked the door and sat on the toilet cover, she felt butterflies in her stomach, thinking of how aime would look riding her, how her wavy hair would drape over her naked body, ellie pressed her theighs together, "shit" she whispered, allowing her hand to go to her underwear.

"hey" aime smiled, ellie was bright red, i cant believe i just fucking did that, ellie thought to herself, slapping herself in her mind for doing that to not only cat but to aime

"hi" ellie said, standing up looking down at aime who still sat on the ground, "we should probably get to bed?" aime questioned, ellie looked back at the bed, shit i forgot theres only one bed, "uh- yea, probably" ellie nodded, "you okay?" aime asked, "yeah why?" ellie quickly said back, "you just seem, flustered? i don't really know"

aime put out the fire, the moonlight lighting the cabin, and held out her hand for ellie to help pull her up, which ellie did, once aime was up, she didnt let go of ellies hand, she smiled looking up at her, "can i ask a personal question?" aime randomly asked, still holding ellies hand, "uh, sure?" ellie said confused, "how many people have you.. done it with?" aime asked, hoping it wasn't too weird, but they were both 19 so aime wanted to compare their numbers.

"only cat" ellie answered, aime nodded, looked down to her feet, "how many have you?" ellie asked, "uh.." aime hummed, "im not like- gonna judge you or anything" ellie tried to comfort her, which it worked, "none" aime mumbled, "none?" ellie asked, making sure she heard it right, aime nodded, "oh" ellie said, which caused aime to look up at her, "i didnt mean that to sound like i was judging or- something- i meant oh as in just like that i was suprised" ellie corrected

aime laughed, "its okay, you can judge, ive had three boyfriends, im 19, and still a virgin"

"three?" ellie asked confused, she only knew of two, "oh, yeah, it was before you came to jackson" she shortly explained, "who? do i know them?" ellie asked, "uh.. lucas, but it was only like for 4 months and we were 13 so it doesnt actually really count" aime explained, which caused ellie to laugh

"well why havent you?" ellie questioned, "just dont want to, anytime the touch me i feel gross" aime shrugged like it was normal, "uh.. okay?" ellie said confused, "and if im being honest.. dicks are disgusting" aime whispered, which caused ellie to laugh again, "what? first of all, ive never heard a straight girl say that, second of all, did you just swear?!"

aime laughed, "oh shut up! everybody thinks theyre gross they just dont say it!" aime dragged ellie behind her as she made her way to the bed, ellie giggled as she crawled into the bed with her

"i should of brought a blanket" aime mumbled, the bed only has a sheet and two pillows, the blanket was nowhere to be seen

"yeah? how would you have brought that" ellie questioned, "uhh.. i would of figured it out!" aime said with a smile, they were both of their sides facing eachother, "yeah right" ellie laughed

ellie kept on flickering her eyes to how pretty her body looked, she needed to stop she moved and layed on her back

it was silent for awhile, ellie thought aime went to sleep and aime didnt know if ellie was awake or not, "ellie?" aime whispered, the rain still pouring, ellie turned her head and looked at aime, suprised she was awake, "yeah?" ellie asked, "im cold" aime said, her hands on her arms trying to warm herself up, ellie looked down at her and noticed her nipples poking through from being cold- "uh.. me too" ellie said, unsure of how to respond to that

"can we.. you know.." aime tried to say without saying it, "huh?" ellie asked clueless, "uh, i dont mean to sound weird or anything, i only mean it platonically but.." aime said nervously, ellie finally realized what she was getting at

ellie opened her arms up motioning for her to go there, aime smiled at the girl, and scooted till she was presseda against ellies said, she then rested her cheek against ellies chest, wrapped an arm around her waist, ellie closed her arms around her, hugging her gently

they layed in silence for a few minutes, aime warmed up a bit but her legs were cold, so she lifted her knee and placed it between ellies legs, ellie almost instinctively brought her hand to aimes leg, just above her knee, and pulled it up more so that her knee was only a few inches away from her heat, aime moved her hips to try and get closer to ellie, but since they were already touching ellie, and since aime's hips were in between ellies theigh, it only made aime's core brush against it, unexpected butterflies swormed aime but not in her stomach, and it felt good.

she sat in silence, her mind repeating how she felt when she moved her hips from a few minutes ago, she opened her eyes and looked up at ellie, but ellies eyes were closed and seemingly asleep. so aime pressed herself to ellie theigh, and moved her hips up, she let out a shakey breath, suddenly turned fully on- this is the first time she was every turned on with someone else in the room.

aime's eyes looked to ellies body, before she sunk her hips back down slowly, causing her to let out another breath as her clit rubbed against ellies skin, slightly gripping onto ellies fabric

she stopped herself, what the fuck am i doing? im straight, i have a boyfriend, and ellie had a girlfriend. what the fuck is wrong with me? i guess since daniels always in the house i never have time to touch myself so now that hes gone i wanna? she tried to reason

"whyd you stop?" ellies voice achoed the room as aime froze- "hm?" aime hummed, "you know what i said" ellie smirked looking down at the girl, but the girl had her eyes closed hoping she was dreaming completely embarassed, "stop what?" aime asked trying to sound confused, "don't play dumb" ellie said, moving her hand from aimes leg to her chin, she pulled her chin to look at her, aime looked anywhere but her eyes

"look at me" ellie ordered, aime scooted herself up more, hovering over ellie face to finally look at her in the eyes, they didnt speak anything, the sexual tension was so thick you could cut it with scissors

aime couldnt help herself, she was so turned on by ellie, her body, her face, and her voice, she without any thoughts slammed her lips into ellies, ellie immediately kissed back, putting all the anger she had for herself and for daniel into the kiss, ellie had her hands onto ellies waist, and aime just did what felt right, aime had one leg outside of ellies, the other in between ellies two, her hands holding ellies face

ellie leaned herself up, moving her hands more towards aimes hips, pushing them to help her move agianst them like how she was doing eairler, aime let out a moan through the kiss, which made ellie melt

aime started grinding her hips more to ellies theigh, "do you want me?" ellie grunted, aime only hummed in response, "i need words" ellie said, making lovebites on her jaw, "mh- i- i want you ellie" she moaned, she never felt this good in her life, she felt like she was in heaven, "good girl" ellie whispered

ellie gripped aimes hips, causing them to stop, she brought her lips back to aimes lips, kissing her with tongue, aime tried to move her hips but ellie was stronger then her and she couldnt

aime brought her hand to herself, trying to rub herself but ellie pulled away and gripped her wrist, "did i say you could?"

"n- no" aime whined, ellie licked her lips before she brought her face to aimes cleavge, she kissed it a few times before she pulled away, pulling aimes shirt over her head, ellie felt herself grow even wetter at the sigh, she stared in awe for a moment, before she started to taste her skin and message her boobs

"ellie- please" aime moaned wanting more, as much ellie wanted to tease aime more, she was teasing herself, ellie pulled away, looking at the marks she just created,

ellie grabbed aimes hips and lifted her up, before pulling her leg up too, and pushing her to sit back down on her so now she was straddling her instead of being in between her legs

ellie then brought her middle and ring finger to her clothed slit, rubbing her slowly, watching as she squirmed, she could feel her wetness seeping through the fabric, "youre so wet" ellie grunted, she moved her hand and pulled the waistband of aimes boxers, she sunk her hand into them, letting her wet lips come in contact with the pads of her fingers, "is this all for me babe?" ellie moaned, "only you" aime moaned

ellie began to drag her two fingers up and down her slit, as they slopply kissed, "i need you in me ellie" aime moaned, those words alone made ellie moan, so she sunk her fingers deep inside of her, aime bit her lip muffling her moan, "let me hear you" ellie moaned, jamming her fingers even deeper then before, aime let her jaw hang as she moaned, and began to grind her hips onto ellies fingers, "you look so pretty on me" ellie whispered as she began to pick up her paste

"tell me how good it feels" ellie moaned, starting to curl her fingers, "mmpfh- it- it feels so good ellie!" aime whinned, "good girl" ellie whimpered, "i- im gonna" aime tried to make out a sentance, but she cut herself off with whine, her stomach tightened, she arched her back onto ellies fingers, but ellie kept on pumping, overstimulating her as she dripped onto her fingers

"you did such a good job" ellie complimented, pulling her fingers out, aime didnt know what was to happen next, but ellie shoved her two fingers into aimes mouth, watching as aime complied, sucking on her fingers and twirling her tongue around them

"good girl" ellie whispered, she pulled her fingers out of her mouth, ellie pulled aime and turned her around so now aime was on bottom, ellie pulled off her underwear and pulled off aimes

she pressed her lips to hers, making out with eachother there tongues tangling. ellie then moved so that her left leg was under aimes, and that her right leg was over her others, pressing their clits together, aime let out a whine as ellie started to grind, there slits grinding against eachother

as aime gripped onto ellies leg, she leaned her head back and let out a whine, "fuck- ellie" she moaned, moving her hips grinding along with her, "daniel could never make you feel like this, huh?" ellie groaned, "no, only you can ellie" aime moaned, bringing her hand to ellies tanktop, lifting it up she could see her body

"thats it- good girl" ellie moaned, aime felt as if her ears had been blessed with the sound of her moaning, she wanted to get more of her noises out, aime brought her hand to her boobs, squeezing them and messaging them, "ugh- fuck- you're so hot" she moaned, leaning her head back grinding harder, "im gonna cum ellie" aime was able to pant

ellie felt her stomach tighten at her words, she rolled her hips once more before her and aimes moans were combained, ellie leaned onto aime with their chests pressed together, ellies head in the crook of her neck, both panting together.

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams x you #the last of us 2 #the last of us smut

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bexleyfix · 9 months ago

Text

Ending Our Friendship

(Stranger Things AU)

Prom photos are posted at the end of the story!

WARNINGS AND TRIGGERS: 18+ ONLY (ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS) NSFW... Mature sexual content, suggestive situations and discussions, smut, pining, angst, fluff, swearing, smoking, drinking, mentions of drug use.

RELATIONSHIPS: Eddie Munson x Y/n ♡ friends to lovers; Gareth, Jeff, Doug, Dustin, Mike, Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Max, Lucas, and El are side characters.

Copying, translating, or posting my work as your own is expressly forbidden. I do not give my permission. Reports with credit to me are encouraged.

°°°°°🤘°°°°°

What can I say about Eddie Munson? Well... he's eccentric, erratic, rambunctious, sarcastic, definitely an attention whore... irritable, obnoxious, unruly... long story short, he's kind of a dick. A menace to society whose name, behavior, interests, and all-around heavy metal image have earned him the reputation of 'Town Freak'. But it's an erroneous label born out of prejudice and arrogance, and one he most certainly doesn't deserve.

I'm not exactly a favorite among my peers either. My thrifty style, music taste, and shy demeanor make me an easy target for the ignorant fucks who dominate the high school hierarchy, and so does my association with The Hellfire Club. And since Eddie's a close friend of mine, I'm empathetic. I don't blame him for his behavior, 'cause I know it's a defense mechanism, a way of taking the torment bestowed upon him by the oppressors of Hawkins and turning it into some whimsical public attraction to hide his internal suffering and keep people on edge.

In any case, Munson's a pest. A huge, irritating, aggravating pest... a giant, perverted, flamboyant...... oh... who the fuck am I kidding? Whatever he is... I want him. I want him like a fat kid wants cake. I want him so goddamn bad that every time I lay eyes on him, hear his melodic, raspy voice, or even catch wind of his name, I feel like I wanna hurl. Fuck butterflies, that sexy son of a bitch makes me feel like I have a full-blown professional wrestling match ensuing in my gut. But could I tell him? Of course not. He doesn't see me as relationship material. I'm just 'one of the guys', permanently embedded in the friend zone, and if he ever found out my true feelings it would have grave repercussions on the whole dynamic of our collective friendships. So, I'm forced to put on a face, pretend that I'm immune to his charm, bottle up my feelings, and let them eat away at my insides.

In the four years I've attended Hawkins High not a day has gone by where Eddie Munson hasn't invaded my every thought, innocent or otherwise. Even when our interactions were non-existent, or nothing more than a hello here and there, I haven't been able to escape that scrumptious motherfucker's temptation no matter how hard I try. Ok... so I don't actually try that hard. Fuck it... I don't try at all... but I pretend to.

Eddie makes it a point to bother anyone he damn well pleases, but I seem to be his favorite prey, and I'll be damned if he doesn't get some sick perverse pleasure from incessantly teasing me. It's normal for he and I to playfully flirt and sexually tease each other. He knows he can get a rise out of me without the added contempt he gets from everyone else, but it's a game to him, just a game, one that I secretly love to play, but recently it's gotten a lot worse, and it was becoming unbearable.

Robin Buckley's the only one who knows my true feelings. She's been my best friend since we met in band freshman year. Being a bit of a loner herself, she and I just clicked. She too can't seem to find the courage to approach her respective love interest (our bandmate, Vickie), but Robin's reasons are more justified. Even still, we both live each day in a loop of self-induced torture. Robin at least gets a weekend reprieve, but not me. Sharing the same friends as Eddie, my torture is continuous, resuming every weekday morning in first-period art class, and today was another typical Friday. At least... that's how it started.

~~~~~

"Alright, guys. Today, I'm gonna meet with you all individually to see how you're doing on your projects for the year-end show. And for those of you who've decided to procrastinate... Mr. Munson, I'm looking at you... I need to ok your idea and make sure you have ample time to complete your work, and that your subject matter is appropriate."

"Aww, come on Mrs. S. You know I always finish my work on time." Eddie flashed the teacher a debonair smile.

"You better... if you finally wanna graduate. But your last project wasn't exactly school-friendly." She smiled back in jest.

I remember that project. The perfect example of Eddie's outlandish shenanigans. He'd drawn a Boris-style rendering of himself all but slaughtering his least favorite jock dipshit. But Mrs. Schwagert's one of the coolest teachers in this school, and unlike most, she's not quick to judge her students, including Eddie. She has a way of connecting with all of us.

Eddie scoffed playfully before spouting off an equally playful retort. "That hurts, Mrs. S. I thought you of all people would understand that I took an avant-garde approach, conceptualizing the fight against tyranny in today's society."

"Well, be that as it may, Mr. Munson, your tactless display of violence toward another student won't be tolerated, so I'd like to meet with you first."

I smiled to myself as Eddie exchanged playful banter with our art teacher, gawking at him like I do most of the day until their meeting was concluded, and like clockwork, he resumed his position right up my ass.

"Hi, there!" He proclaimed in his best baritone imitation of Freddy 'Boom Boom' Washington from 'Welcome Back Kotter'.

I closed my sketch pad and looked up. "Now, the Sweathog part I get, but Washington? I don't see it."

"Ok, how 'bout Barbarino?"

He started shimmying back and forth in proper Barbarino fashion and I burst into laughter.

"Um... the hair, maybe, but you're not exactly a chick magnet. You're more of a mashup between Epstein and Horshack. Quick-witted, but super annoying."

"Fair enough." He plopped into the open seat next to me. "So... does that make you Hotsy Totsy, my little... Bunny?"

Oh yeah... every day Eddie makes it a point to devise a new moniker for me that starts with the next sequential letter of the alphabet. Today we were back to B.

"Not quite. I don't have a kid or moonlight as a stripper." I gave him a cheeky smile.

"You sure about that? You look like you belong on a street corner in that outfit."

I scoffed. "It's not that bad."

I looked down at my clothes. Ok, the v-neck crop top and fish nets, sure, but my skirt covered my waist and it wasn't that short. Suddenly feeling self-conscious I wrapped my sweater around myself, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Whatever you say. I'm certainly not complaining."

He looked me up and down with a Cheshire grin, and I rolled my eyes.

"Don't you have someone else you can pester? I'm busy."

"Doing what? More doodles that you refuse to share with me? What do you draw in there anyway? Is it your secret crush? Ooo! Is it me?"

He could not be more spot on. My sketch pad was filled with doodles of his mouthwatering, metalhead physique, as well as some more risqué renderings that I may or may not imagine him doing to me like... all the time. So of course, I lied.

"You wish, Munson."

"Oh, I do, Bunny. But if it's not me, then who is it? That Ian Astbury guy, or uh... what's his face... that wrestler? The one who looks like a roided up Tom Selek, um..." he snapped his fingers in recognition, "oh, Scott Hall? Wait!... It's Harrington isn't it? I know you two are chummy, and I wouldn't blame you. He's a dreamy hunk of hairy beast, but I'd have no problem being your dirty little sidepiece."

Eddie cocked his head to the side, flashed me a suave smile, and wiggled his eyebrows. He was such a dork, but he was right... about the chummy part anyway. Steve Harrington is my friend, which is a fucking miracle in its own right seeing that before he and Robin started working together, I never got a second glance from the 'King' of Hawkins High, but it turns out he's a gentle soul, and not the egotistical, jock douche we thought he was. But Robin puts it best, our friendship with Steve is platonic with a capital P.

"Hmm, as tempting as that sounds... I think I'll pass."

"Ok, suit yourself. Gareth would kill me if I tried to lay a hand on you anyway. Sisters are off limits."

I wasn't actually Gareth's sister, but I've lived next door to him since we were kids, and our families are super close. I do love that dumbass like a brother, but like most brothers, he's an annoying shit with a big mouth, so he has no idea how I feel about Eddie.

"Speaking of your lovable, surrogate little brother, you comin' to watch us practice tonight?"

"I wouldn't exactly call what you guys do, practice. All you do is fuck around and rip on each other the whole time."

"True, but you keep us in check, so you have to come over."

"Oh, I have to, huh? What if I don't feel like it?"

"Well, then I'll be forced to wait 'til Tuesday to waste my sexual prowess on girls who won't give me the time of day, resulting in me crying myself to sleep, again."

He popped out his bottom lip and gave me puppy dog eyes. Goddammit!

"Uh-huh. And... why do you suppose that is?"

"Well, probably because they don't know how to handle my natural charisma and raw animal magnetism. If they knew what they were missing, they'd be all over me."

"Is that right?" I leaned toward him provocatively, making sure to flaunt my cleavage. "And uh, what exactly are they missing?"

He was visibly frazzled, just how I wanted him. He swallowed hard, trying to make eye contact but unable to peel his gaze from my tits.

"Um... let's just say, that when it comes to the utmost in sexual pleasure... I'm your guy."

"Mmm... that good, are ya?"

"Oh, Bunny. I'm first-rate."

"And you think I... would be able to handle you?"

"Maybe..." He swallowed again. "There's only one way to know for sure."

"Is that so?" I looked him over seductively. "Sounds like that'd be one hell of a time."

"You have no idea."

I nodded slowly and smiled, our faces separated by mere inches.

"I suppose I don't." I stared at his lips, watching him squirm uncomfortably in his chair, and I went in for the kill. "Well, Mr. Fantastic, how could I refuse an offer like that?"

I leaned closer as if going in for a kiss and SMACKED him square in the forehead.

"OW, SHIT! SON OF A..."

I sat back in my chair as he pressed the butt of his hand to his forehead.

"I've gotta hand it to ya, Munson, I didn't think your persistence could be any more annoying, but you proved me wrong."

"Ok, I get it. No sexy time from Bunny. Way to crush my ego."

"I thought you'd be used to it by now. You can keep laying it on as thick as you want. I'm not sleeping with you."

"Y/l/n! I'll meet with you now. Get back to work, Mr. Munson."

"Yes, ma'am!" Eddie gave Mrs. S. a salute.

"Saved by scholastic decree. Catch you on the flip side, Fabio."

I smiled slyly, grabbed my sketchbook, and made my way to Mrs. S's desk as Eddie yelled after me.

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"I won't."

Without turning around I gave him the finger. I caught the faint sound of his chuckle and smiled to myself.

~~~~~

With my Walkman blaring, I navigated my way toward the cafeteria through the crowded hallways of Hawkins High, trying not to get knocked around like a pinball when Robin came running up to me in true motormouth fashion.

"Hey-gotta skip lunch to finish my history assignment-try to find a date for prom-meet up with you later-love you-bye!"

And like that, she disappeared into the sea of students before I could get a word in. This meant I'd have to sit with the Hellfire Club today, so I took a detour and headed to their table.

"What's the haps, nerds? Mind if I sit?"

I got lazy waves from the older boys, but Dustin and Mike immediately perked up and flashed me bashful smiles and enthusiastic waves, which I returned in kind.

"I've got a seat for you right here."

Eddie patted his lap. I smiled seductively, walked toward him, and squatted as if about to sit. The look on his face was priceless, but just before my ass made contact with his lap, I straightened up and crushed his dreams.

"Ooo... fat chance, fucker. Scoot over bro."

I nudged Gareth, plopping down in the seat between him and Eddie.

"Well, played, Bunny."

"Bunny? Are you still playing that stupid letter game?" Gareth asked.

"Unfortunately."

"You know you love it."

I flashed Eddie an unamused smile and started digging into my lunch bag.

"No Buckley today?" Gareth asked receiving a shake of my head as confirmation. "Hey, that girl Becky from band asked me to Prom."

I had a mouth full of food. "Mm, I like her. She's super sweet."

"Prom? You're actually gonna attend that monstrosity?"

"Why wouldn't I? Becky's hot. Just 'cause no one will go with you doesn't mean I have to sit at home with my thumb up my ass."

"Oh, sweet burn."

Mike gave Gareth a high five, and I couldn't hold back a laugh at Eddie's expense.

"Wheeler, it's not wise to upset your Dungeon Master."

Eddie flashed Mike an evil grin and Mike's face fell. He quickly turned his attention back to Gareth.

"El and I are going too. Do you guys wanna ride with us? We're getting a limo."

"Thanks, man, but we're hitching a ride with Buckley, Harrington, and Y/n."

"You're going too?"

Eddie looked at me somewhat perplexed.

"Mm-hm." I continued to eat nonchalantly, watching Eddie laugh in disbelief.

"With who?"

I furrowed my brow. Was that a hint of jealousy in his tone? Nah, couldn't be.

"Myself... and..." I waved my finger in a circle around the table to indicate everyone sitting there.

"You're all going?"

"Yes, killjoy. Nothing is stopping you from coming with us. It's a Masquerade theme this year. It'll be fun."

"Fun?! Bunny, I have no desire to attend the masquerade of forced conformity." He smiled smugly.

"Well, we do. So shut your face."

Still sensing the piercing glare of a pair of deep brown eyes, I lifted my head slowly to see Eddie smiling at me, elbow on the table and chin in hand.

"Yes?" I droned.

"Whatcha listenin' to?"

"Music," I retorted, jerking back when Eddie tried to steal my headphones.

"Why so secretive? Isn't she secretive?" Eddie addressed the younger boys of the group.

"Eddie, she probably just wants to eat her lunch in peace," Dustin answered.

"Pshh, then she's at the wrong table," Mike joked.

I shot them a friendly wink.

"Who's side are you guys on? You gotta crush on her or something? Well, you can both stop kissing her ass 'cause she's too old for you."

"I don't. I have the sweetest girlfriend in the world, and she's a genius."

"She's not very smart if she's dating you."

"Shut up, Jeff." Dustin threw a carrot at Jeff and Eddie chucked a pretzel at Dustin and Mike.

"Jesus, you guys are such dicks. Stop tormenting them. Dusty, is Susie coming?"

"I wish. Her dad'll never let that happen. I'm goin' stag... again."

"Don't worry, I'll save you a dance." He smiled bashfully.

"Jesus, this is torment. I'm surprised you're not going with Harrington." Eddie addressed me before turning to Dustin. "You know she draws erotic pictures of him in her sketchbook, right?"

"What?!" The whole table exclaimed.

"I do not." I shoved the side of Eddie's head.

"Do you really?"

"Of course not, Dusty. Eddie just refuses to let go of his nonconformist pride and have a little fun, so he's taking his frustration out on me. You know Steve and I are JUST FRIENDS!" I emphasized, staring daggers at Eddie before turning back to my food.

"Then show me the sketchbook."

"Fuck off, Munson... hey, what the..." Before I could react Eddie swiped my headphones and put them on. "Give 'em back, asshole!"

"Goddamn! This is some heavy shit. What is this?"

"It's your face meeting my fist if you don't give 'em back."

He held me at arm's length as I tried, and failed, to reclaim my headphones, but I soon gave up, crossing my arms over my chest in a huff.

"Ok, fine! It's 'The Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny'."

"Hahaha! WHAT?"

"It's a demo. The band's called Mr. Bungle. They're from Eureka."

"Well, isn't that fortuitous, 'cause my little Bunny is definitely raging and wrathful today."

He screwed up his face, mocking me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Where did you get this?"

"I'm a tape trader, remember?"

"No. I'd definitely remember you telling me something like that."

"Well, maybe if you weren't so busy running your mouth all the time, you'd actually hear what other people have to say."

"This... this is fuckin' brutal. It's like, black metal meets speed."

Eddie was in his own little world. I threw my hands up in disbelief and shook my head.

"See. Didn't hear a damn thing I just said."

"You gotta make me a copy of this."

"You know, you're awfully demanding today."

He shot me a wink and handed over my headphones. I swiped them out of his hand giving him the evil eye.

"I figured you'd be listening to that goth or glam bullshit. What other cool stuff you got?"

"I've got a lotta cool shit. I got this in my most recent haul along with a demo from Guns 'N' Roses, and one from Faster Pussycat. But they're both glam bullshit," I emphasized sarcastically.

"Glam. Gay L.A. music, you mean."

"Oh, whatever, asshole. Axel Rose has some killer pipes. And Kelly Nickels, the bassist from Faster Pussycat... total YUM! He was actually in the running to be the bassist for W.A.S.P. Bet you didn't know that, did ya? UGHH! I swear, what I would give to be the center of a Blackie Lawless and Kelly Nickels sandwich." I scanned the horrified faces at the table and froze. "Um... sorry... I forgot I'm not sitting with Robin." I took a huge chug of my drink and averted my gaze, dying of embarrassment.

"Isn't Kelly Nickels that guy you said looks like Munson?"

I choked on my beverage, hacking, and coughing, leaving no room for subtlety. Stealing a glance at Eddie I saw his smug grin. I had to think fast.

"Uh, I did not say that, Gareth."

"I'm pretty sure you did."

"Well, you're wrong." I smacked his arm, wanting to crawl into a deep dark hole and die.

"Uh-huh... I knew it. You do wanna fuck me."

"Ugg! Munson, get over yourself." I stood up and collected my shit.

"Aw, come on. Where you goin'?"

"I've lost my appetite." I spat at Eddie. "Catch you later, losers." I turned to Dustin and Mike. "Not you two. You guys will always be my little cuties."

I scrunched my nose, kissed Dustin's head, and mussed Mike's hair, smiling at their giddy expressions, then I waved at Jeff and Doug, stuck my tongue out at Gareth, gave Eddie the finger, and left. I could still hear him laughing as I walked away.

Eddie's eyes followed you as you walked away. "Dude, you're gonna bore a hole in her back if you stare at her any harder."

"Hmph, she totally wants me," Eddie said smugly to no one in particular.

"Munson, just ask her out already and put us all out of our misery."

"That would negate the sister rule, Gareth."

"She's not my sister, so if you wanna give it a shot, be my guest. But you gotta stop comin' at her guns blazing, or she's gonna kick your ass."

"Now that I'd love to see."

"Jeff, if I want your opinion, I'll beat it outta you."

"Whatever, Munson, but Gareth's right. If this is your idea of playing it cool, it's not working. You need to stop being so rash... with all of us. She sees right through it, and it looks like it's starting to get to her."

Eddie thought about it for a moment. Maybe they're right. He loved his little sheep, and picking on you was his favorite pastime, but he was being an inconsiderate ass.

You've consumed Eddie's thoughts since the day Corroded Coffin started practicing at Gareth's house. He knew who you were. Being a year older than Gareth you'd already attended Hawkins High for a year, but you never actually spoke to one another until that fateful day in the fall of '83. You heard the commotion in the garage and decided to stroll over. That's when you two were formally introduced, and you permanently imprinted on his mind and his heart. It was the first day of the rest of his life, but you weren't yet 16, and he'd just turned 18 and he was not gonna open that can of worms. It didn't stop him from playfully pestering you every day. And when you turned 18 a few months back he bumped it up a notch, but lately, he's noticed that you've been on edge and not as receptive to his teasing. Was it losing its luster for you? Were you genuinely annoyed? He couldn't let that happen. You were too important to him, but there was only one way to find out, and he knew exactly where you'd be.

~~~~~

I entered the clearing in the woods and hopped onto the picnic table, hoping to spare myself any more embarrassment or harassment by finishing a cigarette before Eddie showed up.

I wasn't pissed at him, just pissy in general. He's been making it so much harder to mask my feelings and my sexual frustration with blatant denial, and I was starting to lash out, which made me feel incredibly guilty. I could try asking him to stop, but then he'd know something was up, so suffer I will. But it was evident as Eddie came strolling into the clearing that luck was not on my side today.

"Ah, shit... can't I have a moment's peace?"

"You're not escaping my sexy mug that easily, Bunny."

I smiled sarcastically, arms draped lazily over my knees. I watched Eddie park his ass next to me, pull a soft pack of Camels from his vest pocket, shake one out, and trap it between his lips. (Jesus, why when it comes to this man does my mind turn something so innocent into filth?) He flicked his Zippo shut and took a drag. Resting his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands together, he studied my face.

"What, do I have something in my teeth?" I started rubbing them with my finger.

"No."

"Then why are you staring at me?"

"'Cause you're sexy." He smiled slyly, taking another drag.

I exhaled heavily, leaning my forehead on my palms, visibly irritated.

"Ok, ok. I'll stop. I was actually wondering what you're doing for Schwag's class."

I whipped my head around, confusion written all over my face. Was I just transported into a parallel universe? Not only did Eddie stop teasing me on his own accord, but he's making small talk.

"What?"

"What are you doing for Schwagert's class?"

He flashed me a sweet smile, which is so unlike him. It was strange but refreshing, and it was stirring something inside me. I suddenly felt nervous, and uneasy... and kinda horny.

"Hey, you ok? You look like you're having some kinda... internal struggle. I promise I won't laugh if that's what you're worried about. I'm genuinely curious."

I was staring at him like he had three heads.

"Um, no... I um... I'm gonna do a portrait series."

"Self-portraits?"

"No, I hate self-portraits. I was actually considering drawing you if you wanna sit for me... and if you can keep your trap shut for a few hours."

His face fell. "You... you wanna draw me?"

"Yeah. Emphasis on the 'shut trap'." I took a drag from my cigarette as an embarrassing thought occurred to me, followed by more word vomit. "I mean, n-not like nude or anything." His smug ass perked right back up.

"Well, I'm not opposed," he said looking rather assuming.

"Dude, seriously."

He just kept laughing. "Ok, ok... but why me?"

"I don't know. You just have this... look." My eyes finally met his.

"I have a look?"

"Mm-hm."

I looked away sucking on my cigarette. Eddie was seemingly deep in thought and started playing with his rings.

"Um... what kinda look?"

"Not a bad look."

His head snapped up and he smiled mischievously.

"Really?"

I rolled my eyes. "Slow your roll, Munson... but yes. Your look, it's... well, it's distinctive and commanding. Good or bad, you can't deny that you have this... charisma... that makes you impossible to ignore. I wanna capture that." I was expecting some perverted retort, but it never came.

"Well, uh... that's... extremely flattering. I um... I didn't realize you saw me that way."

I couldn't read his expression, but the wrestlers in my stomach were at it again, powerbomb after powerbomb, and I felt the need to cover my tracks.

"I do. I mean, n-not like in that way. I can ignore you if I want to. You don't make it easy... b-but I can..." I rested my elbows on my knees, held my fingertips to my forehead, and sighed. "You just... your look is particular, that's all I'm saying." Shit, this was so embarrassing.

"Uh... o-kay?"

"So... will you do it?" I still couldn't look up.

"Absolutely! Just tell me when and where."

My head shot up. "Wow, um... ok, great... w-we could do it tonight if you want?"

I screwed up my face, immediately wanting to shove my foot in my mouth.

"Bunny, we can do it on this goddamn table, right here right now." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Jesus, I set myself up for that one. You know I didn't mean it like that."

He was giggling like an idiot. "Sorry, I couldn't pass up that opportunity."

Sorry? He never apologizes for his behavior.

"Ok, what the hell is up with you?"

"Whatta you mean?"

"I mean, you're being relatively polite, and making small talk. It's not like you. Did we transport to Bizarro World or something?"

He chuckled. "Just call me Eidde." He smiled bashfully. "I don't know. Maybe I'm trying to turn over a new leaf."

"Ok?" I shot him a sideways glance, but he just sat there, smoking his cigarette, smiling. "Well, we can start tonight at Gareth's." He nodded in agreement. "So what're you gonna do? Did you think of more ingenious ways to flaunt your hatred for Carver?"

He let out a huge belly laugh. "Um, no... Mrs. S. shot down my idea for a sequel. I'm probably gonna do an installation so I can incorporate my music."

"Oh! I like that idea. It's a shame about the sequel though. I was impressed with the original, but I'm biased. Carver's a douche with a capital bag."

We chuckled staring at each other for a moment.

"Yeah, well, it's nice to know someone appreciates my artistic talent."

Eddie placed his hand on my knee and gave it a little squeeze, but instead of shirking it off, I patted it, but he pulled away rather quickly, looking like he didn't know what he should do with his hand.

"So, you're really agreeing to help me?"

"Yep."

"Just like that? No... proposition or outrageous demands in return?"

"Well, since you suggested it..." His smile was wicked.

"Jesus, why the hell do I keep opening my big mouth?"

His grin widened. "Since your big mouth is already open, how 'bout a big sloppy blowjob... or I'll settle for a big wet kiss... or... we can cut right to the chase and finally fuck." He nudged my shoulder.

"Jesus, you're hopeless. Is that all? Do you want my first born too?" (Fuck! I did it again!)

"Well, I can cum inside you when we're fuckin'."

I shoved him so hard, I knocked his giggling ass off the table, but I welcomed the distraction of his laughing fit because the thought of him cumming inside me made my cheeks flush and my thighs clench involuntarily. If spontaneous combustion is truly a thing, consider me Spinal Tap drummer number seven. Luckily the position in which he fell and the time it took him to climb back onto the table was enough for me to collect myself.

"You're a fucking pervert."

"I know, I can't help it."

"Well, try." He nodded. "Why don't you agree to come to prom with all of us instead?"

"Um... that doesn't exactly benefit me. So, no... it has to be option 1, 2, or 3."

"Ok, then I guess I'll pick option 4, none of the above."

"Then you can't draw me."

His expression was serious. I didn't know how to react until he snickered and cracked a smile before erupting into full-on laughter. I smacked him upside the head and he yelped.

"You're such a dick, Munson."

He was still rolling, trying to catch his breath. "Ha! Uh ha, hmm... ok, fine, you can still draw me, but prom? That's really not my thing."

"You're missin' out."

"On what? Shitty music and jock scrutiny? No thanks. But I do wanna ask you something."

We locked eyes. His expression was foreign. He's never looked at me like this before. It was like... adoration mixed with worry. Was he nervous? He looked nervous. Or was I nervous?

"Does um... does my behavior bother you?"

I looked at him quizzically. Why would he care what I thought?

"Um... no. I mean, you definitely know how to push my buttons... and sometimes I just wanna strangle you... but you're one of my best friends. I understand your humor. But you do need to lay off the boys."

He looked only partially relieved. "Fair enough. I just... well, you're a cool girl... and I really enjoy our banter, but you seem a little on edge lately, so I just wanted to make sure. I've never had a female friend as accepting as you, so I don't wanna push you away."

I stared at him in shock, like maybe his three heads would sprout horns. He seemed genuinely worried about upsetting me.

"Ok, is this like, a reverse invasion of the body snatchers or something? Who are you?"

We both laughed. His smile was huge, and so fucking gorgeous. Then I saw it. The subtle movement of his eyes falling to my lips. Did I just see that, or did I imagine it? I felt lightheaded and my heart was pounding as he slid closer, smiling as he scanned my face. (Headlock, shoot off, drop down, leapfrog, hip toss, cover, and 1... 2... 3... wrestler pinned... insert pyro explosion here)

I think I stopped breathing, and then... (Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrringggggggg) Our heads swiveled toward the school. Ugg! That fucking bell. We turned our attention back to each other. Eddie let out a heavy breath, suddenly bashful, and awkwardly backed away, and I finally took a breath.

"Um... we... we should probably..."

"Yeah, um... I'll... I'll walk you back."

~~~~~

We walked through the hall in silence, still smiling, occasionally stealing glances at each other. I had no idea how to process what just happened. What did just happen? Was it even anything? I looked at Eddie. His smile was so bashful, almost innocent. It was so fucking CUTE I wanted to hug him, squeeze him, and call him George.

That's it... we were definitely in Bizarro World.

~~~~~

Sitting on the couch in Gareth's garage, my pencil flowed over the pages of my sketchbook with ease. Eddie was my fucking muse. It's amazing what I can accomplish when I'm drawing a willing participant. But when 'practice' was over, I had the misfortune of being a part of the most fucked up conversation in the history of conversations.

"Is that the latest Hustler? Ooo, toss that over here." Eddie wasted no time flipping through the pages.

"Jesus, you guys have a one-track mind."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black. I know for a fact you like to read those cheesy smut books."

I threw an empty beer can at Gareth. "Way to sell me out, asshole."

"Smut books, huh? A bit of a dirty bird aren't ya, Bunny?"

"This coming from the man who has a pile of nudie mags under his bed. And don't give me that 'I read the articles' excuse."

"I do read the articles."

"I'm not talking about letters to Penthouse." I smiled cheekily.

"She's got you there, Munson," Gareth said.

"Ok, my deviance is a surprise to no one, but this little dirty bird seems to be hiding more than just doodles. So, Bunny... what're your other guilty pleasures?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

I flashed him an irritated look. "Eddie, if you think I'm gonna tell you that you're outta your goddamn mind."

"Awww... come on. Don't be a prude."

Gareth, Jeff, and Doug turned their attention to Eddie, probably expecting me to kick his ass. I turned to look at him and sighed. He wasn't gonna let this go, so I figured I'd have a little fun with him.

"Alright... you really wanna know?"

Sitting on the edge of the couch, nodding like an idiot, a stupid grin spread across his face, Eddie anxiously awaited my reply.

"I wanna know."

"Me too."

Jeff and Doug, my peanut gallery.

"I'm not sure I do."

"SHHH! Shut up, Gareth. No one cares what you think."

Eddie was too preoccupied to notice Gareth giving him the finger.

"Ok... fine. If you really wanna know, I'll tell you."

Eddie took a sip of his beer. I could see the excitement in his eyes, so I exhaled heavily.

"Yes, I like smut novels. I draw a lot of erotic pictures, and I too read Letters to Penthouse. I also enjoy watching porn."

All four of them were frozen in place, Eddie in mid-swig and the other three with their jaws on the floor. Eddie swallowed hard before speaking.

"Like, what kinda porn?" He asked sheepishly.

All four boys were waiting impatiently with bated breath.

"Ok, um... well, the softcore, romantic stuff is my favorite, but I do enjoy a bit of hardcore." I gauged Eddie's reaction. He was mesmerized, eyes glued to my face as he took another sip of his beer. "I occasionally enjoy some girl-on-girl. Threesomes are so hot. Two girls and one guy, one girl and two guys, it doesn't matter. Like I said, I'm down for a Blackie/Kelly sandwich. Oh, and voyeurism. I love the thought of watching people fuck while I touch myself... really gets me goin'."

Eddie spit out a mouthful of beer and the others were all in a daze, mouths agape, processing everything I just said, but it was Eddie who broke the silence.

"And... how exactly did you pick up these little... hobbies?"

"Dude, I'm a shy, introvert, outcast... we're as freaky as they come."

"It's always the quiet ones," Doug said in disbelief.

"Mm-hm. Well... now that the cat's outta the bag, I have a date with my VCR and a naughty VHS. Later, losers."

(Suck it, Munson!) I gave a triumphant smile, winked at Eddie, turned on my heels, and headed to my garage making sure to shake my hips as I left.

Eddie sat staring at the ground. "I don't know about you guys, but I need a cold shower after that one."

"Me, too."

"Me three."

Eddie looked at his friends, who were all still in shock. "Do... do you think she's serious?"

He jumped off the couch and bolted after you.

"Hey, Munson, wait... MUNSON!" Gareth sprinted after Eddie and grabbed his arm before he could make it to your house. "Dude! Seriously? She was just fucking with you."

Eddie bowed his head in defeat and followed Gareth back to his garage. He sat down and resumed staring at the ground adjusting his crotch uncomfortably as Jeff and Doug grabbed their gear.

"You guys outta here?" Gareth asked.

"Yep. We'll see you tomorrow."

They waved goodbye and made their way to Jeff's car. Gareth turned his attention to Eddie, noticing his frustration.

"Munson, just fuckin' tell her."

Eddie threw his head back against the couch and rubbed his hands over his face, groaning.

"Come on, Gareth. You know I can't."

"Why?"

"'Cause we've got a good thing going. If I confess my love and she doesn't feel the same I'll lose her forever, or at the very least things'll just be incredibly awkward. But I can't stop fucking thinking about her." Eddie looked toward your house. "You know her better than I do. What should I do?"

"Ok, here's what I do know. If she's willing to take your shit... there's gotta be somethin' else there. No one's crazy enough to tolerate your dumb ass unless they want to, but if she does have feelings for you, she'll never make the first move, so I think you should approach her. I also know that she was lying at lunch. She can deny it all she wants but she really does think you look like that Kelly Nickels guy. That's gotta count for something."

Eddie smiled to himself. "Maybe."

"Well, either you tell her, or I will, 'cause all this pining shit... it's really fucking irritating. And swallow your pride, man. Ask her to prom. You know you'll have fun with her. Go ask her now. She's probably sitting in her garage."

Eddie let out a huge sigh. "Alright, man, but the whole feelings thing... let me test the water... if she seems receptive then I'll spill my guts."

"Good luck, dude."

Eddie gave Gareth a bro handshake, grabbed a couple of beers, and shuffled toward your garage. When he got close enough he heard you talking, probably on the phone. He knew he shouldn't listen but the devil on his shoulder convinced him otherwise, so he leaned against the corner of your garage just out of sight.

~~~~~

"Oh, come on, Robin. He was asking for it."

"Yes but when you do that it only riles him up more."

"Him? What about me? The flirting and teasing have only gotten worse. I can't fucking take it anymore."

"Exactly. You know how he is. If you keep egging him on you're only making things worse for you. Just tell him how you feel."

"Robin... you know I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because... he's my friend."

"And?"

"And... if he rejects me... things'll be super awkward. And if he still wants to be my friend I'll be forced to suppress my feelings just to maintain some sort of normalcy around him, and I'll be no better off."

"Did you at least ask him to the dance?"

"Not exactly. I suggested he come with all of us, but you know how he is. He's too proud to 'give in to the masquerade of forced conformity'." I said in my best Eddie voice.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. Just keep dropping hints. Maybe he'll get the message."

"I hope so. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. I want to be with him so fucking bad, but I don't wanna lose him."

"I understand, trust me I do."

"I know. Well, I'm gonna go watch my movie, take my mind off shit. Tell Steve I said hi."

"Hey, Dingus! Y/n says hi! He's waving at you."

"Nice."

"Well, we love you girly."

"Love you guys too."

I hung up the phone and stared at my open sketch pad, utterly lost in Eddie's image.

Eddie's eyes were wide with shock. He could only hear your side of the conversation, but he had no doubt who you were talking about. Jesus H. Christ! You have feelings... for him. You pretend you don't but you do! This... this changes everything! So why was this dread still lingering in his chest? Nerves maybe? He had to say something, but he didn't want to come on too strong. Act casual... yeah. That's what he'll do... just... act casual. After silently syking himself up he took a few deep breaths and decided to make his move.

"BOO!"

"JESUS CHRIST!" I jumped out of my skin, nearly falling off of my stool. "You think you're funny, asshole?"

Eddie was doubled over with laughter as I sat there clutching my chest.

"Hahahahaha! Ohhhh, no... I think I'm adorable."

"Ugg! I hate you so much, Munson."

"Awww, come on now. You know that's not true. May I come in?"

I released a heavy sigh. "Sure... whatever."

"Here, a peace offering."

He handed me a beer.

"Thanks."

We sat in silence for a moment as he checked out all the drawings hanging above my desk.

"Jesus, you're amazing. I love your style. The way you see the world, it's just... incredible."

"Thanks." I smiled bashfully.

He motioned to my open sketch pad.

"May I?"

"Sure." Ahhhhhhh! His smile makes my fucking insides liquefy.

"Oh, Bunny... these are fantastic! I've never looked so good." He flashed a cheeky smile and flipped to the front of the book.

"Nice try. You won't find anything. This sketchbook is strictly for school projects."

He let out a breathy laugh. "You caught me. I wish you'd show me your personal drawings. You're so passionate about your work. Like I am with my music."

"Maybe someday, Munson." I flashed him a sweet smile.

"Um, you mind if I turn on some tunes?"

"No, go ahead."

He started fiddling with the record player.

"Looks like your old man was listening to Clapton. I'll just leave that on."

"Works for me."

He positioned the record player needle and shuffled back to his chair.

"So... what's on your agenda for this evening... besides hardcore porn... and me?"

He smiled wickedly, pulled his smokes from his vest pocket, and went through his routine.

"Not fucking you, Munson."

I loved hearing him laugh, or talk... or move... or fucking breathe. Whatever the hell he was doing... I loved it.

"So, do you actually watch all that stuff, or were you just fuckin' with me?"

"Uh..." I eyeballed him hesitantly, but his expression was calm, and not flirtatious, so I gave him this one. "Yeah... I do."

He raised his brow and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Well... that's um... that's hot. I was just gonna head home, get high, and play guitar, but now... I think I'm gonna have to rub one out. Care to turn it into phone sex? Preferably while you're still watching porn?"

(JESUS CHRIST! I know what I'm drawing tonight) I rolled my eyes. "Dude! What is with you? You've been so lewd lately. Like, more than usual." He smiled cheekily and stared at me. "No! No phone sex, no fucking, just... no!"

His whole body shook with laughter. "Ok, then I guess I'm goin' solo. So, if you're not gonna watch porn, what are you gonna do?"

I shook my head. "I'm gonna watch 'Help'."

"Can't say I've seen it."

"Really? It's a super corny Beatles movie."

"Oh, I know what it is, I just haven't seen it. Is it good?"

"I love it. It's one of my favorites. I watch it with my mom all the time."

"Speaking of the lovely Mrs. Y/l/n, where are your folks?"

"They're visiting my grandma this weekend."

"Well, that's a shame. I'll just have to schmooze your mom next time. So... was tonight's session enough to do your project, or do you need me to sit for you again?"

(Ok, what the fuck?) "Alright dude, what's going on? You're doing it again."

"What?"

"Oh, come on. For the past few months, you've been... I don't know... a lot more perverted, but today you're trying to incorporate small talk and some semblance of courtesy. So what's going on?"

"I don't know. Maybe I want you to see a different side of me, so I'm talking about things that aren't strictly sex oriented."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Well... maybe I like you."

"HA! Hyeah, right. If you don't wanna tell me the real reason, just say so. You don't need to make shit up."

"Who says I'm making shit up?"

I tried to play it cool, not letting on that the instant those words left his lips Hulk Hogan leg dropped King Kong Bundy.

"Uh... I am."

"Why? Is it so hard to believe that I could see you as more than just a friend?"

I scoffed. "Yeah, a fuck buddy, maybe."

Jesus, it felt like an Alien was about to punch through my chest. I reached for my smokes and lit up trying to thwart my anxiety.

Eddie nodded solemnly, but when 'Wonderful Tonight' started to play, he set down his beer and held out his hand.

"Wanna dance?"

I must've looked like a deer in headlights.

"What?"

"Come on... dance with me."

I snuffed out my cigarette looking at him hesitantly. He grabbed my hands and pulled me up, threw my arms around his neck, wrapped his around my waist, and pulled me close. He started swaying us back and forth, his head nestled next to mine, but when the chorus hit I got ballsy. Knowing this wasn't bound to last, I decided to live in the moment. I leaned my head on his shoulder, squeezed my arms tighter, closed my eyes, and started playing with his hair, but to my shock and delight, he tightened his grip around my waist and leaned his head against mine, grazing my back with his fingertips. We embraced silently for several minutes, and all I could think was that I could die happy at this very moment... and then he had to go and fucking ruin it.

"Go to prom with me?"

His voice was so faint I wasn't sure I heard him correctly. I lifted my head, our eyes lingering on each other's faces, and I scowled, about to lose my shit.

"What? Ok, now I know you're joking."

"I'm not joking."

"Eddie, stop it. This isn't funny."

I broke away and went to shut off the record player, ready to scream. We just held each other so fucking tight, and there was something about the way he touched me. Probably just wishful thinking, but it seemed like we had a moment.

"Al-alright fine. Don't believe me."

"Why should I when you've been shitting on the idea all day?"

He was silent. I slumped my shoulders, released a sigh, and faced him. "Ok, fine, don't answer me. I'm gonna go watch my movie."

Eddie was chewing on his thumbnail, his other hand in his pocket, and he was staring at the ground nodding. He actually looked disappointed, and I had to admit, I felt kinda guilty. I didn't want him to leave, but this charade had to stop.

"Hey, um... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. You don't have to go. I just... I want the nonsense to stop, ok? If you want you can watch 'Help' with me."

His head shot up so fast I thought he'd have whiplash.

"Um, yeah, ok. Your parents won't mind?"

"No, they know you. It's not like we're fuckin' or anything."

"Well..."

"DON'T... say it."

Signature Munson, never missing a beat. Jesus, my emotions were bouncing back and forth like a game of Pong.

~~~~~

We were on the couch in my basement, which also doubled as my bedroom. It was a pretty sweet setup if I say so myself.

"You're right. This is a really weird movie. Not as trippy as 'Tommy', but still pretty bad."

He pulled his arms up to shield himself from my slap but was unsuccessful.

"Oh, shut up. It's awesome and you know it. And so is 'Tommy'."

"No, you're right. I do like 'Tommy'. Ann Margaret's hot." His smile was so goofy.

"So is Roger Daltrey," I smirked. "Ooo, I love this part. Paul using the girl as a guitar."

"Ooo, that looks like fun. Come 'ere."

"What?" He reached for my arm and pulled me across the couch. "What... what're you...? Hey! Hahaha!"

"Come on, sit on my lap. Put your hand on your hip, hold the other arm out... there we go. Now... I play."

I was dying of laughter as Eddie played my arms like a guitar and started singing along to 'Another Girl'.

🎶For I have got, another girl

Another girl who will love me till the end

Through thick and thin, she will always be my friend

I don't wanna say that I've been unhappy with you

But as from today, well, I've seen somebody that's new

I ain't no fool and I don't take what I don't want

For I have got, another girl🎶

Eddie stopped playing, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled my giggling ass against his chest, continuing to rock me in time with the music, only this time, when the song ended, I stayed put.

"I thought you didn't like The Beatles."

"I never said that. I just said I never saw this movie, but my mom used to listen to them too."

I smiled, taking the opportunity to rest my head back against his shoulder and wrap my arms around his. I felt his hair tickle my neck, so I looked up and found him smiling at me. Our faces were so fucking close. I smiled back and he leaned down and kissed my cheek.

"W-what was that for?"

"Just felt like it. I'm having a good time."

"M-me too."

There was that look again. The same one from this afternoon at the picnic table. That look of adoration, but this time with a little something extra. And there was no bell. Nothing to break the trance. I couldn't look away as he scanned my face and brushed some stray hair behind my ear, his hand now resting on my cheek. A flash of eyes to lips, and then...

NOTHING!

He returned his arm to my waist and turned back to the TV.

(Mother... Shhhh... Jesu... what the... oh... SON OF A BITCH!!!) I couldn't even think a coherent sentence, so I turned my attention back to the movie. I must've been squirming too much because Eddie pulled my legs across his lap, which was a way more comfortable position, and I allowed myself to cuddle into his chest. I was so tired I should've passed out, but I couldn't shut off my brain.

"I love this song so much."

I started singing along with John Lennon to 'You've Got to Hide Your Love Away'. Eddie joined in, and we smiled at each other as we sang, and again he rocked me to the music.

🎶How can I even try?

I can never win

Hearing them, seeing them

In the state I'm in

How could she say to me

"Love will find a way"?

Gather 'round, all you clowns

Let me hear you say

Hey, you've got to hide your love away

Hey, you've got to hide your love away🎶

We couldn't peel our eyes off each other.

"You're voice is beautiful."

"Thanks," I whispered.

We stared a few moments longer before my nerves got the better of me, and I returned my head to his chest.

"You know, this whole album is like... a metaphor for our entire relationship."

What? Did he really mean that? Most of the songs were about want, need, and... love. I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't. I just buried myself deeper into his chest in reply, and again his arms tightened around me.

By the time the movie was over I could no longer keep my eyes open. The warmth of his body and his musky scent were so comforting.

"Hey, Bunny... you sleepy? You want me to leave?"

Without opening my eyes I shook my head, clutched onto his shirt, and whispered, "No... please don't go."

I have no idea where my newfound boldness was coming from, but Eddie didn't protest. Instead, he enveloped me in his arms and rested his cheek on my head.

"I won't, Bunny."

I smiled to myself as Eddie shifted us so we were lying down facing each other, my head still buried in his chest and his arms still wrapped tightly around me. I managed to open my eyes and look up. He was smiling, watching me, and like a moth to a flame, my hand found his face, my fingertips lightly grazing his features as my eyes followed their trek... his pale cheek, covered by little grains of stubble... his plush, pink lips, which parted slightly at my touch. He closed his eyes and leaned into it until my fingertips trailed to his cute, button nose, his forehead, and back through his hair, where I buried them behind his neck giving him a little scratch.

"Mmm, that's... that's nice."

He released a faint moan and slowly opened his eyes. They were glossy, wanton, and... unsure. His lips formed a sincere smile, and he started repeating my previous motions. His fingers explored my face, eyes following suit.

"Go to prom with me, Bunny."

His voice was so low, commanding even.

"Eddie, why?"

"Because I wanna spend time with you."

"You already spend time with me."

"I know, but... I just wanna go with you. Please say yes."

I sensed nothing but sincerity in his gorgeous eyes, and his voice, so I willed myself to whisper, "Ok... I'll go with you."

"Yeah?" His smile was enormous.

"Yeah."

He cuddled closer and kissed my head. (Flying elbow drop, off the top rope, straight to the gut) When I looked at him we were nose to nose. He nuzzled mine, lips parted. It was almost like a silent plea, begging me to close the gap, to finally let him taste my lips for the very first time, but I was frozen. His lips ghosted mine. I was practically cross-eyed staring at them, but he wouldn't take the plunge. I felt like I was trying to will him with a Jedi mind trick to just do it already, but the force is not strong with me, and he just lingered... the fucking tease.

"Have sex with me," he whispered, smiling playfully.

"What? No." I poked him in the gut, and he giggled.

"Come on. I know you want it as much as I do... and I think it's time we do something about it."

My brow furrowed, eyes darting back and forth in disbelief across Eddie's face. Who does this mother fucker think he is? I mean, I do in fact wanna fuck him, but that's not the point. It's the principle of the thing. I pushed his chest hard and got off the couch ready to lay into him.

"Hey, what---?"

"That's all I am to you, huh? Some... perverted game or prized sexual conquest? Do you have any respect?"

"What? N-no, that's..." he stood up and gripped my arms, "it's not like that at all."

"Then why do you keep pushing this?! I can't..."

I started to cry, unable to finish my sentence. I wanted to smack him, kick him outta my house, just... anything to make the pain stop, but I was so exhausted from this charade and all the mind games that I didn't have the strength to fight him anymore, so when he pulled me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head I didn't fight him. I just let him hold me as I balled into his shirt.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I'm just... not very good at this, so I'm going about it the only way I know how, and... well, I'm failing miserably, and um... Jesus, I don't know how the hell to do this."

"Do what?" I mumbled.

He pulled me back so he could look at my face, and caress my cheek. His expression immediately softened, but he looked uncertain and extremely nervous.

"Um, hhhhh... something I should've done a long time ago. I wasn't lying earlier. I like you... a lot... but it's more than that... I'm uh..."

"Eddie... what're you doing?"

There was a brief silence. And then... it happened...

"I'm ending our friendship."

And just like that, he closed the gap and encased my lips with his. The sweet pressure of it, the subtle transition of tongue against tongue, the soft, gentle strokes of his thumbs against my face. It was perfect. I couldn't speak, but I needed reassurance. I slowly broke the kiss.

"Hyou... you're serious... aren't you? You're not just saying all this so I'll sleep with you?"

Now he looked like he wanted to cry.

"Y/n, no... you know me better than that. I'm just... a big oaf, but I would never take advantage of you. I just... I wanna be with you. And yes, I... I really wanna fuck you... but not as a buddy. I want you to be my girl. We don't have to do a damn thing. I'd be elated to just hold you for five minutes, but I need you to know this. I--I'm in love with you."

(DDT into a flying body press, followed by a sit-down drop to the gut) I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the onset of tears. Oh my God... oh my God, oh my God, oh my God... oh my FUCKING God! I opened my eyes slowly. We were nose to nose. He flicked his tongue lightly against my lips, and the bastard fucking smiled.

"Munson... hyou-- you're fucking evil." The words came out with my breath.

"I know..."

He cupped his hand under my knee, wrapping my thigh around his hip, and with an arm around my back, he pulled me flush against him. HOOOLY FUCKING SHIT! I could feel how hard he was as he ground his bulge against my aching cunt. My fucking eyes rolled into the back of my head and my breathing hitched. Jesus, Fuck! He was playing so dirty. I wanted to curse him out, spew every obscenity known to man and then some. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling devilishly.

"But you still wanna fuck me... don't you?"

I nodded involuntarily, as if I no longer had control of my body, and Eddie's tongue shot into my mouth. His kiss was hurried, and vivacious, our faces smashed so close together it hurt... but I didn't care. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and without parting he hiked me up by my thighs and carried me to my bed.

He fell onto the mattress with me on top of him, shifting his body under my weight, continuing to breathe new life into me. His hands found my ass, greedily squeezing before gliding gently up my sides, lifting my shirt. The touch of his hands on my bare skin sent shockwaves up my spine. I broke away just long enough to grab the bunched fabric and rip it over my head throwing it to the floor. Like he couldn't function without them, he found my lips again.

"Mmm, mhh, hhhh... Bunny, I know I joke, but I'm not fuckin' around. Are you sure you want this?" He smoothed back my hair and searched my eyes.

I smiled brightly, tears flowing freely. "Eddie, I want this. I want you."

"Yeah?" He asked, just to be sure.

When I nodded he crashed his lips to mine, drinking them in, savoring them as I've wanted him to for so fucking long.

He rolled me onto my back, trailing hot, wet kisses down my neck, licking softly between my breasts. The heat of his breath was like fire on my skin, and it burned so good. He gently tugged at the front of my bra freeing my perky tits, stopping to admire me.

"Jesus H. Christ... you're so beautiful."

When he finally took a hard peak into his mouth, my back arched, my brow creased, my teeth clenched, and I sucked in a breath of praise, shaking from the stimulation.

"Mmm... Jesus, you're nipples are sensitive. Have they always been like that?"

"N-no... hoh--only when I'm... really turned on. And I-- I've been waiting... so long... for you to touch me like this."

I gasped as he gently flicked my nipple with the tip of his tongue, trailing it up my neck. He placed a chaste kiss on my lips, cupped my cheek, and kissed my forehead tenderly before leaning his on mine.

"My sweet, beautiful Bunny. I've been dreaming of touching you like this for ages, and I wanna take my time with you... to make our first time together last, but I don't think either one of us is gonna make it." He let out a breathy laugh. "Just seeing you, hearing you... knowing how you make me feel, and... knowing how you feel about me..."

He was shaking with urgency, lip quivering, running his hands through my hair, brushing my face with his fingertips... he was manic... and it was beautiful.

"Eddie... I know... there'll be time for all that. I just wanna be with you now."

He exhaled, eyes still shut tight, and he nodded before claiming my lips in a passionate kiss.

"Mhhhh... you're sure about this? About me?"

I gave him a sweet pout, cupped his face, and pulled his forehead to mine.

"Eddie... I want everything with you... and only you."

His whimper was resounding, muffled by my own as we kissed feverishly.

"Mmhhh, Y/n... are you safe? Can-can I take you raw?"

His expression was sweet. He was watching, waiting, yearning as he searched my face.

"Eddie, yes... I love you."

The instant the words left my lips he ravished mine. I ripped off his shirt and tossed it away, quickly locking lips again as he rushed to undo his belt. Without parting we both fumbled with his jeans only bothering to push them just past his hips, and in seconds he was pushing himself inside me. I sucked in a sharp breath, and he was shaking, mouth agape, eyes shut tight as he buried himself to the hilt.

"Ohhhhhsweet... Jeeesus!" He stilled, little broken moans reverberating throughout his chest as we got used to each other.

"Eddie, it's ok... I'm-I'm ok, uuh! Hyou--you can move."

He exhaled heavily and slowly started thrusting, adjusting to the tight space.

"GodDAMN! Hyou, mgghh... you feel better than anything I could've imagined. So soft, so warm... so fucking tight! Jesus, you're perfect."

He leaned his forehead to the crook of my neck as he picked up his pace. I was moaning like a harlot, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. It was pure fucking bliss. I wrapped my legs around his hips, holding him so close.

"I... I couldn't take it anymore." He breathed out. "I--I've been in love with you... since the day we met. Needed this... needed you... so fucking bad. Haww, uhhhh, FUCK!"

My heart skipped a beat. His thrusts were steady, almost prolonged, like he didn't want to consider the notion of this moment ending.

"Eddie, mhhh... I-- I've been dying to hear you say those words."

He lifted his head to look at me, and he was beaming, smoothing my hair back.

"Mhh, my angel. You... you doin' ok? You feel good? Uhhhh."

UGGGG! He was so fucking sweet.

"Eddie..." I ground my hips into him, coaxing from him a delicious guttural moan. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, but I grabbed his face and forced him to look at me. "I'm loving this. We're finally together. Please... don't stop until you make me yours."

He stared at me as if he wasn't sure I was telling the truth. I placed a small kiss of reassurance on his lips, and they turned up into a huge smile. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was about to cry. He immediately claimed my lips, wrapped his arms around my back, and started to move faster. His movements, his touch, his eyes... they said so much, and nothing at all. He made me feel so goddamn good I began to come undone.

"Eddie... I'm-I'm close."

"Uhhh, that's my girl." He immediately rolled us over so he was on his back. "Fuck me, Bunny. Make yourself feel good, ungghh, mhhh yeah, just like that. Hoh, oh fuck! Cum... cum for me, Bunny."

I pressed my hands, to his chest, spread my thighs wide, and fucked him hard until all I could do was throw my head back and scream his name.

"Eddie, oh, ohfuck, FUCK! EDDIE!!!"

I came hard on his thick cock. His body tensed, and I knew he was done for, but I continued to grind and swirl my hips.

"Eddie, I wanna hear you, feel you. Cum inside me, baby. Please... cum for me."

I have never heard a more beautiful sound in my life. He pulled me down, rolled us over, laced our fingers together, and held them above my head, as he ground his hips into mine.

"Mm-Y/n, I'm-I'm gonna fill you up... make you mine. Uhhhhh, fuck... FUCK!"

He gave one more powerful thrust, and his body shuddered. Making the most lewd, yet seductive sound I ever had the pleasure of witnessing, he pumped me full of his seed. Once he was finished he collapsed onto his side, his chest heaving, covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Uhhh... mhhh, h-holy shit..."

He smiled, met my blitzed-out gaze, and started laughing. I placed my hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. When he opened them he let out a content sigh. He reached for me, wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me into the spoon position. Looking down at me, he tilted my chin with his finger so he could see my face. He smiled brightly as an equally giddy smile crossed my lips, and he kissed me, squeezing me tight. I couldn't describe the happiness I felt.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, Bunny?"

"How did you know?"

He chuckled. "I heard you talking to Robin earlier."

"You were eves dropping?"

"Guilty as charged. I knew it was wrong, but I'm glad I did it."

"Hmm, me too. Do you really wanna go to prom?"

"Not particularly. But I'm not about to let you guys have all the fun without me, so I'm willing to damage my hard-earned rep for you. I just wanna be with you, Bunny."

He placed sweet, wet kisses on my bare shoulder.

"Well, you're one hell of a dancer. Surprised the shit outta me." Mhh, those fucking giggles.

"I know a thing or two." He took his arm from around my waist, laced our fingers together, and held them close to my chest. "I also knew I'd get you to fuck me."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Eddie Munson... you're such an ass... but don't ever change." I turned my head to look at his smiling face, and he kissed me passionately. "Mmm, so... why didn't you tell me you liked me? I was on the verge of imploding."

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I asked you first."

"Hmm, m-hm, hmm! Well, I wanted to. Gareth was my number one cheerleader... but I was too chicken shit. I couldn't stand the thought of losing you if you didn't feel the same way. But when I heard you talking to Robin... it was like... a weight lifted from my shoulders. I love you, Y/n... so fucking much. I fell in love with you the moment we were introduced... but you were so young. So when you turned 18, I just..."

"You started laying it on thick. Jesus, I can't believe I didn't put two and two together."

"Yeah, well... it seemed to have the opposite effect I was going for. Apparently I came off a lot more irritating than charming, so Gareth and Jeff told me to dial it back, and that's when the small talk started."

"I can't believe I was so blind."

"You and me both, Bunny, but now it's your turn, so fess up."

"Hmm, then let me up. I need to show you something."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, just for a moment. I promise."

Eddie kissed my knuckles and reluctantly let me up. I retrieved a stack of sketchbooks and made my way back to the bed. I plopped down and placed the books in front of him.

"Go ahead."

He rolled onto his side, and I watched as he opened them and scanned the pages in disbelief.

"Are-are these for the project?"

"No. Look at the dates."

He checked them all, page after page, book after book.

"You... you've been drawing me since freshman year?"

"Yeah. That's why I never let you see anything. I know that's kinda creepy, but I just..."

"Uh... this one's far from creepy. We are definitely doing this later."

He pointed to one of my more risqué drawings, smiling mischievously, and I blushed.

"Anyway..." I exaggerated, "I couldn't keep my eyes off you. I've been crazy about you since my first day of school. And when we finally started hanging out, and you began teasing me all the time, I fell for you... hard, but by that point I was deep in the friend zone, and it seemed like you only thought of me as one of the guys. I didn't wanna jeopardize our friendship either, so... I hid my feelings. I thought if you knew the truth... that our banter, the flirting... everything... would all end, so I played along. But when the teasing got worse it became excruciating, so I started lashing out. But I love you, Eddie... with all my heart, and after what we just shared... I've fallen even harder."

I was balling like a baby, and when Eddie trapped me in his arms I melted into him.

"Hey, don't cry, Bunny."

I chuckled through sobs. "They're happy tears, Eddie. Just years of pent-up emotion and sexual frustration finally being expelled. And I really dig the name Bunny. You can call me that one all the time."

"Done. My sweet... soft... beautiful... raging... wrathful Bunny." He kissed my lips between every word. "Mmm, mhh. Can I spend the night?"

"What? Oh, fuck no! Get your shit and go. I got what I wanted." I smiled playfully.

"Hey now, there's only room in this relationship for one asshole."

"I beg to differ."

He wiggled out of his jeans, pulled me down with him and we held each other close. It took mere minutes for us to succumb to the exhaustion. It was the best night's sleep I've had in a long time.

~~~~~

Prom night had finally come. My house was abuzz as all the girls gathered here to get ready while our parents socialized. I was a ball of nerves waiting to see what Eddie had in store for me.

"Alright, look up and hold still... now close your eyes." Nancy lifted my chin and proceeded to apply my eye eyeliner.

"Thanks for doing this, Nancy. Robin and I aren't really make-up girls."

"Don't mention it. You're much less fidgety than Robin."

Nancy was such a sweet girl. Another perk of being friends with Mike and Steve.

"There we go. Hand me your lipstick."

I did as she asked, and she proceeded to apply.

"So... how are you and Munson dealing at school? Blot."

I opened my mouth and clamped my lips down on the piece of toilet paper Nancy was holding.

"Well, we had our fair share of jock harassment on Monday, but I nipped that one in the bud."

"Yeah, Jonathan and I dealt with that crap too. Just let it roll off your shoulder. People eventually get bored. And how about prom? I never thought I'd see the day when Munson would attend."

"Yeah, he feels like he's going against everything he stands for, but if you ask me, I think he's secretly enjoying himself. He won't tell me a damn thing about his outfit, just that I needed to wear black and red. Steve took him shopping, but Eddie swore him to secrecy. All Steve would say is that once he showed Eddie that he could look good and keep his metalhead flair he was very receptive. Steve was proud of him."

Nancy flashed a sweet smile.

"Nancy! Y/n! Get your asses up here! The boys will be here any minute!"

"Keep your panties on Robin, we're comin'!" I took a deep breath as Nancy put the finishing touches on my make-up.

"Ok, all done."

I took one last look at myself in the mirror. My hair was huge, but it fit the theme, and my make-up looked amazing.

"Nancy, you're a miracle worker. I appreciate it!"

"No problem. I love these colors on you. Too dark for my taste, but they suit you."

We smiled at each other, put on our masks, wrapped an arm around each other, and squeezed each other's shoulders.

"Well... you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Nancy took my hand and we headed upstairs.

~~~~~

"AHHHHH!!! You... look... amazing. Eddie's gonna flip his shit."

"Thanks, Robin."

"Alright girls, get together. I want some pictures. Make sure you have your masks."

"Mom, wait. Where's Max and El."

"We're right here!" Max yelled, dragging El behind her.

We all gathered in my living room in front of the fireplace, pushing and shoving, trying to get situated.

"Alright, girls. Everyone look this way. One... two... three!"

"Cheeeeeeese!" We all chimed in unison.

We appeased our parents with several photos and that's when we heard the horns.

"Ooo! They're here. Come on let's go!"

Robin grabbed my hand and yanked me toward the front door. Standing in the driveway we watched as two limos pulled up the street. Girls and mothers alike joined the reprise or 'ooo's' and 'ahh's' and 'wows' as the boys piled out of the limos dressed to the nine. They were all so handsome.

"I don't see Eddie."

As soon as the words left my lips it was like the parting of the Red Sea. All the boys moved to the side to reveal Eddie in a devil mask wearing all black save for the red paisley vest and the trim that lined his leather waistcoat. It was gothic steampunk meets metalhead pirate. When he removed his mask he was smiling.

"Someone catch me, I think I'm gonna faint."

Robin grabbed my arm. It was like time stopped, save for Eddie and me. I stood there with my jaw on the ground, eyeballing him up and down as the boys made their way toward us. It was like watching a slow-motion male model montage. When Eddie was finally in front of me he pulled a single long-stemmed rose from behind his back and presented it to me.

"My lady."

I took it hesitantly, unable to speak. I just gawked trying to find my voice.

"You um... ha! Good God you look... so goddamn fuckable," I managed to whisper.

He chuckled. "Hmm, later. I see you followed my instructions. You look absolutely gorgeous. And the bunny mask? Excellent touch."

"I like yours too. Is that your way of protesting your participation in the forced social conformity?"

He chuckled and nodded. "I thought you'd appreciate that."

He claimed my lips with so much passion I forgot we were surrounded by a giant group of people, including my parents.

"Alright, alright. Break it up you two."

We broke apart in protest. Eddie looked at the ground sheepishly, and I pawed at my face, making sure my make-up wasn't a mess.

"Um, sorry Dad."

"Yeah, I'm sorry Mr. Y/l/n. She's just..." Eddie turned to look at me, "so beautiful."

"Mm-hm, she's also my little girl, so mind your manners." My dad held out his hand to Eddie, which he shook happily and with much relief. "You clean up nice, Eddie."

"Thanks, Mr. Y/l/n." They smiled before my dad clapped Eddie's shoulder in approval.

"Oh, get outta the way. Let me take a look at you, Eddie." My mom cupped his cheeks and gave him a once-over. "You look so handsome."

She trapped him in a hug, kissed him on the cheek, pulled back, and smiled.

"Thank you, Mrs. Y/l/n."

He kissed my mom's hand, making her blush, and then she ran to her next victim.

"Gareth Emerson, get your butt over here! Ooo, and who is this pretty lady?"

My mom's voice trailed off and Eddie and I laughed, focusing on each other. After several minutes of socializing and more pictures, I reminded my parents that we were all spending the night at Steve's, and then we finally made our way inside the limos and headed to Hawkins Hall.

~~~~~

The prying eyes were everywhere, but to our surprise, they were out of delight and not hatred.

"Bunny, is it just me, or have the jocks backed off lately?"

"Yeah, I may've had something to do with that."

"Oh? How's that?"

"Well, Monday was the last straw, so I told Carver that if he doesn't shut his dick licker and leave us and the other outcasts alone, the whole school would find out what he and his goons do in the locker room when they think no one's looking."

"Hahaha! What?! Are you serious?"

"Mm-hm."

"And how, pray tell, did you come across that juicy bit of gossip?"

"Well, it pays to have an ex-jock as a friend."

"Wha... Harrington told you this?!"

"That I did, my good man." Steve appeared out of nowhere and clapped Eddie on the shoulder. "Y/n came to the video store a few months back practically in tears, and I was pissed. I can't stand those assholes either, so... I figured that information might come in handy."

"Harrington, I could kiss you."

"Please don't."

They both smiled, and with a chuckle, Eddie patted Steve on the back.

"Thanks for the help, man. You're alright."

Steve gave Eddie's shoulder another pat and proceeded to escort Robin into the building. ~~~~~

I'm surprised none of us passed out from exhaustion. We sat only to eat. The rest of the time we were on the dance floor regaling each other with our moves.

Lucas was a break dancing and moonwalk prodigy. Dustin is a master at the worm. Max and El can replicate any Madonna move known to man. It was a fucking riot. We were cracking each other up with the more ridiculous dances, like me catching Eddie with the fishing pole, Steve and Robin doing the sprinkler, Steve, Eddie, Jonathan, Robin, me, and Nancy doing the library dance from 'The Breakfast Club', all the younger boys doing the Robot, and the lot of us doing the running man. Eddie even had a chance to flaunt his usual shenanigans, which meant dancing on top of a table. That was until Mrs. S. came over and made him get down. And me being a closet disco nerd was forced by Robin to do John Travolta's dance from Saturday Night Fever. I was so fucking nervous, but the cheers, and accompaniment of several other students who also knew the dance, including Robin and Chrissy Cunningham, helped my fear to dissipate. And of course, the majority of the student body performed Michael Jackson's Thriller. At the end of the night, to no one's surprise, Jason and Chrissy were crowned prom king and queen.

It was almost surreal. For the first time in... well, ever... there was no anger or animosity. Everyone in the building was getting along, and when it came time to leave, Chrissy made sure to find me and tell me how much fun she had dancing with me. She gave me a sincere smile and a big hug, but the strangest thing of all was when Jason confronted Eddie, but instead of disdain he offered a handshake thanking him for the entertainment. Eddie accepted his hand and congratulated him on winning prom king, and they actually smiled at each other. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed it.

When it came time for the after-party at Steve's house, Eddie and I took the opportunity to slip away and head back to his trailer so we could be alone.

~~~~~

We devoured each other like animals as we made our way through his trailer to his room. Feverish, sloppy kisses, lips and chins and necks, back to lips, until he pulled away, revealing a malevolent smile.

"As gorgeous as you are in this dress... I've been waiting all night to get you out of it. Off... now."

I did as he commanded, slowly peeled off my dress, and let it fall to the floor. My black lace bra and panties, stalkings, and garter belt were all that remained.

"Jesus Christ, you're stunning, Bunny."

Eddie stared at me with a carnal desire, drinking in the sight of my body, removing his clothing until he was shirtless. He advanced toward me slowly and started running his hands gently up my sides, and around my shoulders so he could unclasp my bra. I stood completely still as he dropped the flimsy article to the floor. He backed away slowly, his eyes glued to my tits. When he met my gaze I made a show of removing my panties, but when I tried to remove my stalkings he grabbed my hands.

"No... leave 'em on. The garter belt too. You're perfect just like this."

Eddie was breathing heavily, blackness consuming his eyes. He leaned forward to trap my nipple between his lips, sucking, licking, teasing each one in turn as I cradled his head, my needy whines and mewells filling the room.

"Mrrmm, Eddie... hyou-you're gonna make me cum."

"Mhhhh..." He released my nipple with a pop and straightened up. "Not yet, Bunny. I wanna taste you first." He gently cupped my tits and licked at my lips until I took his tongue into my mouth. "Hmmm... can I taste you?" He whispered his words, his hot breath sweeping across my face.

"Hhhhyes."

Before I knew it I was on my back, and Eddie was licking a slow, soft trail down my stomach. He latched his lips to the tender flesh of my waistline and sucked a deep purple mark into my skin.

"Mmm... you're mine now, Bunny. I can finally take my time with you."

All I could do was moan at his words. He kissed his mark, knelt on the floor in front of me, and pulled me to the edge of his bed. I could feel his hands, the cool metal of his rings, smoothing gently over my inner thighs, spreading them. I caught the sound of an inhale and felt his warm breath against my wet heat when he exhaled.

"Oh, Bunny, your scent... I need it all over me. On my fingers... my face... hmmm, my tongue. Look at me." I lifted my head long enough for his eyes to silently ask for permission. I gave him a shy nod, but instead of diving in like I figured he would, he lingered, took a quick taste with a flick of his tongue, and savored.

"Mgghh, Christ, that's so sweet."

The instant I felt his fingers slip into my folds I shrieked. His touch was gentle, massaging my thigh with one hand as his fingers barely grazed my inner lips and my clit. It was at that moment I knew that he was hell-bent on torturing me, teasing me, prolonging my pleasure until I was ready to burst. He wasn't going to give me what I so desperately wanted, not until I was begging for it, for him... and I would. I would do anything this man asked of me if it pleased him. When I felt the tip of his finger trace light circles over my clit I wanted to cry. I had a moment's reprieve when he stopped to lick his fingers clean.

"Mmmm, hhhhhh, Bunny, you taste like heaven... but if you don't stop squirming I'm gonna have to pin you down."

"Eddie... wh-why are you being so cruel?"

"Oh, Bunny... I've only just begun."

He blew a light stream of air on my clit until I whined, then he licked me gently from my dripping hole to my hard bud. I was thrashing around, trying to quell the sensation, only to have my thighs pinned to the mattress, by his strong, unyielding grip. Using the tip of his tongue he lightly teased the sensitive skin of my lips, and toyed with my swollen clit until I was sobbing from the pleasure. I tried to touch my sensitive nipples, to rush my release, but he reached up, locked his hands around my wrists, and held them at my sides so he could use his forearms to pin my thighs, then he flattened his tongue and licked from my ass to my clit. I screamed in frustration.

"Eddie, for fuck sake, please! Please let me cum."

He ignored my plea, continuing to fuck me with his tongue until he was ravenous. His pace not letting up as he devoured my pussy like he was starving.

"Holy fucking shit, Munson! Stop... please, just, just fucking stop!"

He halted immediately, breathing heavily. When he took a hand from my wrist to wipe his face, I made my move, twisting violently until I was free of his agonizing hold. I got to my knees, grabbed him by his belt, and pulled him roughly onto the bed, pushing him onto his back. I crawled up his body, straddled his head, and sank my cunt onto his waiting mouth. He dug his fingers into my thighs, the pain shooting through me, but I didn't care. I could finally get what I wanted.

"Mhhhh, Eddie... Yes, YES!" He moaned at my praise, sending chills up my spine. Fuck! The things this man can do with his mouth. I tangled my fingers tightly into his hair and fucked his face. "Munson... hoh... shit, SHIT!!! Hyou... you're gonna tell me... every dirty detail... about how you learned to do this... so fucking well! Fuck, I wanna cum for you!"

He moaned into my pussy. I could hardly control my breathing as small high-pitched whimpers escaped my lips. I was so close to the edge.

"Mhhhhhh..."

The vibrations of his moans, his caressing lips, and the flick of his tongue against my clit were making me buck even harder as his painful grip on my thighs held me steady. I've never felt pleasure like this. He was too good, I could feel a sensation so incredibly earth-shattering building inside me. He must've felt it too 'cause he reached up to tease my nipples, as he feasted, lapped, licked, and sucked at my dripping pussy. My whimpers were loud, shameless, and FUCK were they warranted. I was plunged into a realm of pleasure and bliss, and Eddie was the cause. I let go of his hair, cupped his hands over my tits, and ground my pussy against his face as I experienced the most intense orgasm in the history of sex.

"OhhhhhhFUCK!!! Oh... GOD!... Eddie, EDDIE... Holy SHIT!!!"

"Mmmm, that's it, Bunny. Mhhhhhh."

I continued screaming his name as he greedily sucked and lapped at the sticky mess that poured from my pussy.

"Mmmmm! Fuck! You're taste... it's so goddamn satisfying! Hhhmm!"

He lapped once more at my overstimulated clit. I tried to steady my breathing as I climbed off of him, collapsing onto my back. Breathing heavily he turned his head to look at me, rolled onto his side, and propped himself on his elbow so he could stare at me. His eyes trailed up and down my body, so I decided to tease him. He was in the perfect position to watch. I put my knees up and spread them wide, dipping a finger into my still-dripping folds. I coated it with my slick juices and ran a trail of cum up the middle of my body before raising my finger to his lips. He let out an adorable whimper before sucking it clean.

"Mmmmm... Jesus Christ... you're fucking intoxicating."

He shifted his body, hovering above me so he could trace the trail of cum with his tongue, then he pressed his weight against me, kissing me deeply, passionately before he got to his knees to unbuckled his belt. He undid his pants and pushed them off. Once they were on the floor with the rest of our discarded clothing, he leaned over me, the head of his throbbing cock pushing against my heat. He took my hard peaks into his mouth once more gently teasing my sensitive nipples with the tip of his tongue. The soft tickles were too much to bear, and I almost came, only to be denied. He sat back on his heels, his knees spread wide so his massive erection was standing at attention between my legs, but before he could pull me toward him I quickly got on all fours facing him and wrapped my lips around his swollen head.

"Ohhhhhhhhh..." he breathed out.

He started convulsing as I used my tongue to toy with his slit. I sucked his head into my mouth and slowly swallowed him whole until my nose was touching his coarse, dark pubes. He brushed his fingers through my hair, holding it back so he could watch as I took him in and out of my mouth.

"Oh, Bunny... uhhhhyeah... suck me, beautiful... just like that... ohhhhhh."

Still sitting on his heels he leaned back, braced himself on his hands, and spread his knees wider. I pulled all the way off of him before sucking him into the back of my throat.

"OH!! God...DAMMIT!!!"

I swallowed hard around him, releasing him to catch my breath, and sank again, slurping and gagging as he used one hand to hold my head, and I loved every second of it. When he let me surface for air his chest was heaving. I grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed as I vigorously sucked his tip. He sucked in a hiss, his breath catching in his throat, chest heaving as I started to work him faster. His vocals just made me more feral.

"Oh...SWEET JESUS!!! You're... you're fucking phenomenal... Uhhnnggg..."

My strokes and his breathing became more erratic.

"Oh, oh, fuck! That's my good girl, my good Bunny, mhhhhh... keep-keep going. Take me deep. OhhhhhhFuck! YES!"

With his fingers clenched in my hair and his cock lodged deep in my throat, I sucked his soul through his dick. His body was shuddering, jolt after jolt of sexual electricity, until he pulled my head up.

"Jesus Christ! That-that's so fucking good, hhmhh... but I don't wanna cum yet..... HOH! GODDAMN!"

His whole body tensed as I licked him from balls to tip, sucking his sensitive head one last time. When he opened his eyes he caught my smug smile, threw his head back, and started laughing.

"That was payback, you teasing fuck."

His laugh morphed into a heady moan as I trailed my tongue through his pubes, over the wiry muscles of his stomach until I was on my knees, teasing his hard nipple with my tongue. He caressed my head tenderly as I suckled before he forced it up and shoved his tongue down my throat.

"MmmHmmm... hhhhhhh. O-ok, I get it. I've met my match. Now lie back baby girl."

With his knees under my thighs and my hot wet cunt begging to be filled, we made eye contact.

"Oh, Bunny... you're so gorgeous it hurts. Are you ready for me?"

"Munson, if you don't put your dick inside me, like yesterday, I'm never speaking to you again... now fuck me!"

I threw my head back and whimpered as Eddie grasped my thighs and plunged his cock deep inside me.

"Oh, FUCK! Munson! PLEASE!"

I stared at him through half-lidded eyes, mouth agape as I rubbed my tits. With every powerful thrust I became more and more excited... and so very close to another intense orgasm. He used a thumb to tease my sensitive clit. I arched my back, my tits moving up and down with every heavy breath. He dug his fingers into my thigh, still teasing my clit as he continued to pound into me, willing me to scream his name.

"Oh... FUCK! EDDIE!!! Oh my God. I'm gonna cum!!!"

"That's it Bunny... take my cock. Wanna, MRRGGG! Wanna watch your sweet pussy gush from what I do to you. I want it all over me."

"Oh, that fucking mouth, Munson!"

"You mean this mouth?"

He wrapped his arms around the small of my back, leaning down to lick and kiss my navel, then he lifted me upright so he could claim my tits again, licking and sucking as he held me close, his course hair rubbing against my clit as he fucked up into me. My walls started to clench around him, so he laid me down and ran his hand from my tits back to my clit.

"Scream for me, Bunny... scream my fucking name!"

He commanded me, letting his head fall back as he fucked me and continued to rub circles around my clit with his thumb.

"Oh... holy shit, Eddie! EDDIE! Oh my GOD!"

Screaming, I clenched the sheets and a burst of liquid sprayed all over his abdomen.

"YES! OHHHHHHFUCK!!! I'm-I'm gonna bust. C-can I come inside you?"

"Yes! Do it!"

He slammed into me one last time and his whole body tensed.

"Ohhhhh, Fuck!!! God.... DAMMIT!!! HOHHHH, ohhh my gorgeous girl."

His fingers dug into my waist until he rode out his release and collapsed on top of me. I threw my limbs around him as he poured all of his emotion into our kiss. I was on the verge of tears.

"Munson... I love you. I love you so much." We hugged each other so tight. "Hyou... you can do that to me forever if you like."

He looked up, still breathing hard, and smiled. Staring into my eyes with all the love in the world, he brushed some hair from my face, placed one more passionate kiss on my smiling lips, rolled us onto our sides, and pulled me tightly to his chest.

"Hmm, my beautiful, raging... wrathful, Bunny. I love you more than life itself. Ending our friendship was the best decision we ever made."

•••••❤️❤️•••••

Thank you for reading! Be excellent to each other, and get your Munson on!

🤘