#the oral fixation is fucking raging y’all

[sleepysuccubi]

alright, come close, let me show you everything i know

[eiightysixbaby]

afterglow

part 2 to cruel summer

tell me that i’m all you want, even when i break your heart

word count: 10.2k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you navigate the aftermath of your confession to eddie, but forgetting him is harder than you thought. it’s up to him to make things right.

cw: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. angst, use of y/n, eddie and reader being lovesick for each other, tooth rotting fluff, use of pet names, unprotected p in v, oral f receiving

author’s note: i am so, SO beyond excited to share this finally! thank y’all so much for the love on cruel summer, i hope you all enjoy part 2 just as much. this is inspired by afterglow by miss taylor swift, so go listen to that if you haven’t! okay smooches love u all hope u enjoy

part one

It had only been a few days since you confessed your love to Eddie and he left you without a word, but it felt like it had been years. Every minute crawling by, the hole in your heart seeming to grow rather than get any smaller. Your mind was ping-ponging back and forth between being furious with Eddie, and missing him and yearning for his touch. In all honesty, you mostly felt horrible for the way you yelled at him. Sure, he wasn’t being considerate of your feelings and he was being a bit of an asshole, but how was he supposed to know you loved him? You don’t even know if you knew you did until you were screaming it in his face. It’s not right what Eddie did, making you feel special and then turning around and flirting with other girls in front of you, but it’s not right for you to get mad at him for not being exclusive with you when the two of you were only supposed to be fuck buddies, and you weren’t supposed to have feelings for him. The guilt was eating away at you, and now that you’d gone and blindsided him with the confession of your feelings, you knew you couldn’t fix things. He clearly didn’t feel the same way, and he clearly didn’t want to rectify the situation at hand. But there were also moments where the guilt would subside and you were filled with pure rage, wanting to hurt him the way he’d hurt you. To say you were conflicted was an understatement.

In actuality, Eddie was doing no better than you were. He’d barely slept since the night he left your place, the bags under his eyes growing increasingly dark and his mood constantly agitated. You loved him. How could that be? Had he really been that fucking blind? Admittedly, Eddie’s never been great with the whole “feelings” thing. Screwing around with a different girl every week was fun for him because no deeper feelings were involved. It allowed him to get those brief dopamine rushes without the room to get attached to someone, just for them to end up leaving him when they really got to know him. But it was always different with you, from the moment the first line was blurred and you crossed into uncharted territory with each other, it was different. This had unnerved Eddie initially, the way everything felt softer with you, more intimate. He couldn’t let himself fall for you, and so he kept you at arm’s length - or tried to, anyways. He’d continue to flirt with other girls, to sleep with other girls in hopes that it would keep his mind off of you. He needed to keep himself in the routine of bouncing around so that his brain wasn’t hyper fixated on you. Your mutual agreement to have a little friends-with-benefits situation surely meant that you didn’t feel anything more for him, right? He couldn’t be the one that fell head over heels for you, just for you to leave him in the dust.

He should have fucking known you’d never do that to him. And now here he was, the asshole that hurt you probably beyond repair. All because he couldn’t work out his feelings, couldn’t face you in the event that you rejected him. He scoffs at himself, because look at how he handled things, leaving your apartment without so much as a word after you confessed your fucking love to him. Eddie groans, flopping face first into his pillows, letting out a long exasperated sigh. The moment you said you loved him he’d wanted to say it back without an ounce of hesitation, and honestly, that terrified him to his core. He’s never loved someone like that, it’s different than the love he holds for his friends or Wayne, or that old trailer park cat he’d befriended as a child . The love he felt for you was all-consuming in a new way, and it made him sick to his stomach with unease. He’s startled by a knock rattling the trailer, and he heaves himself off his bed with a huff. A frown is etched onto his face, his hair a wild mess as he opens the rickety door to the trailer. There on his front step is Nancy and Jonathan. Oh fuck.

•

“-And so, we just kind of want to know a little bit about what happened, on your end? She didn’t really give us a whole lot to go off of other than you flirting with the bartender…” Nancy winces as she says the last part, noticing the way Eddie visibly twitches at her words.

“I wasn’t flirting with the bartender,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool. “I didn’t want to start anything so I just… let her flirt with me. But I wasn’t interested! I just wanted one more drink,” he mumbles, his head throbbing with stress and lack of sleep.

Nancy and Jonathan had come over to your place the day after the incident with Eddie, gently trying to coax some information out of you. You’d revealed that the two of you had had a few drinks and some bar food, danced a little bit, and then hooked up in the bathroom - sparing them the gory details of course. Then you told them you caught him flirting with a couple women at the bar after you’d left him to talk to Chrissy briefly. You intentionally left out the part where you, you know, professed your undying love for him in the middle of the night standing in the doorway to your apartment. You didn’t need anyone knowing that you said those three big words when he didn’t even reciprocate them, the thought of telling your friends far too embarrassing.

Nancy, being Nancy, felt like there was something you weren’t telling her, or at least wanted to hear the story from Eddie’s perspective, hoping to get some more info so that she could better understand how to be there for you. She gave it a few days, knowing Eddie wouldn’t like to be cornered right after the incident, and that’s how her and Jonathan found themselves on the couch in his small living room currently.

Eddie was also in no way planning on telling them about how you’d told him you loved him, and he’d walked away like a big fucking idiot. Although his friends meant well, and wanted to help, he didn’t need any extra inquiring minds knowing about this. He needed to focus on figuring out how to fix things with you before anyone else found out that the big ‘L’ word was involved.

“Eddie, please just be honest with us-”

“I am being fucking honest!” Eddie snaps, catching his friends off guard. “I swear, on my fucking life, I was not flirting with those women at the bar. I just didn’t have the energy to start an argument or something,” the expression on Eddie’s face is growing desperate as he talks. “I should’ve just walked away, I know, but I didn’t. But I swear I was not flirting with them. For once, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”

Jonathan gives Nancy a look, and she nods in understanding.

“We believe you, Eddie. Thank you for explaining,” she says softly, trying to meet his eyes.

Eddie doesn’t look at her, can’t bring himself to when he’s hiding the worst part of this whole thing from her.

“Is there… anything else that you need to tell us?” Jonathan asks, careful so as not to sound accusatory.

“No. After she thought she caught me flirting, that must’ve been when she called you guys. There’s nothing else to say that she didn’t already tell you.” Eddie sighs, his voice defeated.

They could tell their presence was no longer wanted in Eddie’s home, and so they made their exit.

“Thanks for talking to us, Eddie. We’re here if you need anything,” Nancy says as she closes the door behind her.

Nancy originally intended on ripping Eddie a new one when he admitted to flirting with the bartender a few days ago, but now she knows that’s clearly not the truth. It was all a misunderstanding, at least this time around. But the hurt behind Eddie’s eyes, the pain in his voice has her thoughts jumbled. Something deeper has to be going on, she just doesn’t know what.

“So, do you think we should tell Y/N that him flirting with the ladies at the bar was a misunderstanding?” Jonathan asks, breaking the silence in the car.

“I feel like she deserves to know. Not that it’ll change anything necessarily, it doesn’t have to, but she deserves to be free of that pain at least,” Nancy nods as if assuring herself, before taking the car in the direction of your place.

The rapping at your door breaks you out of your daze as you sit on your sofa watching Friends reruns. You debate even answering it, before deciding that you can’t wallow all alone 24/7. You open your door to reveal Nancy and Jonathan, inviting them in but grimacing at the disastrous state of your living room. They don’t even pay any mind to it, Jonathan sitting on the arm of the couch as Nancy stands in front of you.

“So, we just talked to Eddie,” she says, her eyes searching yours.

You swallow, hard. Did he tell them what you said? Do they know you love him?

“Oh? W-what did he say?” you ask, your voice coming out more shaky than you would’ve liked.

“He told us that he was never flirting with the bartender and the other girl. Insisted on it, actually. He said he just wanted one more drink while he waited for you, and didn’t feel like starting anything by turning them down,” she says gently. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad for him or anything, I just figured you deserve to have that weight off of your shoulders.”

You stay silent for a moment, taking in what she’s saying. Clearly Eddie was convincing when he told her all of this, because Nancy wouldn’t believe just anything. He wasn’t flirting with them, it was all a misunderstanding. You flipped out on him for nothing.

“Thank you for telling me,” you say finally. “Did he say anything else?”

“No, his story was no different than yours otherwise.”

You nod, standing in silence because you can’t think of a damn thing to say.

“We’re gonna get going, but I just wanted to give you that update,” Nancy says, sensing the awkwardness.

You thank them again and hug them both before shutting the door behind them. You sink back into the soft cushions of your couch, staring blankly at the TV screen. The whole reason you’d even admitted to Eddie that you loved him was because you blew up on him, you couldn’t take it anymore, the image of the bartender all over him bringing you to your breaking point. It was all a misunderstanding, and you spilled your guts to him because of it. Things could still be the way they were if you’d never opened your damn mouth. Clearly, Eddie doesn’t love you back. He hasn’t reached out to you in three days. There’s no way you can go back on your words now, and you’re confident you ruined everything with the only guy you want. It should make you sick, still, the fact that he left you and couldn’t even give you a response. You should be furious with him, you should be cursing his name at the sky, but all you can do is feel guilty for putting him in jail for something he never did. You lay down, letting out a scream into one of your fluffy throw pillows. If you had any tears left to cry, they’d surely be flowing now, but instead you just lie there, zoning out completely. The only thing left to do was try and get over Eddie Munson.

•

Almost two whole weeks since he last saw you and Eddie had been wallowing pathetically the whole time, making little to no improvements since Nancy and Jonathan’s visit to his home. He shouldn’t have gotten so defensive with you when you accused him of flirting with the ladies at the bar - how could he blame you for thinking that? It’s not like he was particularly loyal to you or considerate of your feelings any other time. Basically, he was throwing himself a gigantic pity party, and Steve had decided he’d had enough of his friend’s antics.

He found out a little about what had happened through Robin, who found out through Nancy. Word travels fast in the friend group, needless to say. Steve came to Eddie’s trailer, for the third time that week, still finding him withering away in bed and looking like a kicked puppy. Steve, from what he understood of the situation, couldn’t figure out why Eddie was so distraught. You’d finally gotten tired of his sleeping around, and you’d kicked him to the curb. If anything, you deserved to be upset because you clearly had some deeper feelings for Eddie. Eddie on the other hand? He was the asshole, always, what right did he have to be upset now?

“Ed, seriously man, you’ve gotta cut this out. What good is it gonna do for you if you let yourself shrivel up and die in your bed?” Steve had tried to be gentle the first time he came to see Eddie, but by now he was frustrated.

Eddie just groans, grabbing his pillow and covering his face with it. Steve rolls his eyes, marching over to the bed and snatching the pillow from him, like a parent snatching an item from a child.

“You’ve gotta talk to me, dude. What is going on here? You acted like an ass to Y/N half the time, no offense, and now you’re upset? I just don’t buy it, man.”

Eddie scoffs and gets up, pushing past Steve and heading into the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. Steve follows directly behind him, hands on his hips as he corners Eddie in the kitchen. The older man glances over at his friend, acting completely disinterested as he fills his Garfield mug with the black liquid.

“You’re being impossible. I want to help you, and you won’t even talk to me. If you want to be depressed as shit forever, then fine! Be my guest,” Steve says, like it’s final, like he’s done trying.

Eddie knows him better than that. He pushes past Steve yet again, plopping himself down on the couch and taking an obnoxiously loud sip of his coffee. Steve’s fuming, watching in disbelief as Eddie goes along like he isn’t even there.

“You know, I can see why Y/N got sick of you.”

This gets a rise out of Eddie. He brings the mug away from his lips slowly, his breath catching in his throat.

“Yeah, I mean seriously, if you’re this stubborn all the time then it’s no wonder she got tired of you…” Steve goes on, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

Eddie grips his mug tightly, certain it’d shatter if he held it any harder. He grits his teeth, breathing hard out his nose.

“You just couldn’t keep it in your pants, had to flirt with that damn bartender…”

“I DIDNT. FLIRT. with the FUCKING. BARTENDER.” Eddie is seething now, about ready to jump across the room and grab Steve by the collar of his shirt. He’s at his breaking point now, letting everything spill out of him. “You wanna know what’s going on? You really have to know? She fucking loves me, man. She told me she loves me, okay? And - and - and… that fucking terrified me, okay? So I left her apartment. I didn’t say a word and I fucking left,” Eddie’s trembling now, the brunt of his anger giving way to sheer anguish.

Steve goes quiet, his eyes widening. He opens and closes his mouth, scrambling to find words.

“Eddie, you just left her?” Steve asks, really not trying to rub salt in the wound, but what the fuck.

“I really don’t need you to lecture me on how wrong that was-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just-” Steve pauses, looking at his disheveled friend where he sits on the couch. “Do you love her?”

Eddie is silent for a minute, his hands clasped together and brought up to his mouth, elbows resting on his knees.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do,” his voice is noticeably shaky, and for the first time since Steve got here, Eddie’s sad brown eyes meet his.

Steve comes to sit down next to Eddie, the couch cushions dipping with his weight.

���I think you need to tell her, man.”

“How? How do I even start? She thinks I ditched her at The Hideaway to flirt with other women, she probably thinks I fucking hate her considering I left without a word after she-”

Steve puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, calming him down from the way his body has started to shake. Eddie looks at him, eyes glassy and confused.

“This is Y/N we’re talking about. I don’t think she could ever hate you. You need to tell her how you feel, Eddie.”

Eddie knows he’s right. Deep down, he knows. But facing you and admitting his feelings is the scariest part. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable, doesn’t like the way it feels to put himself so fully out there, and he honestly envies you for being able to spit the words at him so easily. Eddie has to tell you, he just needs to figure out how.

•

You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, holding up different outfits as you debated which you liked the best. Robin and Nancy scrunched their noses at one particular dress you held up.

“Too many ruffles,” Nancy blurts.

“You’d look kind of like a babydoll…” Robin muses, tilting her head as she looks at the short blue garment.

You groan, throwing all the hangers of clothes onto your floor.

“Guys, I have to wear something tonight and we’ve gone through, like, half of my wardrobe!” you hold your hands out at your sides, your voice incredibly whiny as you plead with your friends.

“Okay, okay, let me take a look,” Nancy says, getting up and searching through your ransacked closet.

You were going on a date tonight. Nancy had eventually squeezed the confession out of you that you loved Eddie, but you still hadn’t informed her that you actually told him that and that he left. It had now been two weeks since you’d spoken to Eddie and she kept telling you you needed to actively try and forget him. Because, big surprise, sitting alone in your apartment all day eating pints of ice cream clearly wasn’t helping - much to your dismay. So she took it upon herself to help and set you up on a date with a friend of Jonathan’s.

According to his Instagram profile, he was cute, and he seemed like a nice guy based on everything Nancy told you. He went by Argyle, which, a little weird, but hey - you just told your fuck buddy you loved him and he walked out so… you’re not really in a position to judge anyone for anything.

“Ooh! What about this?” Nancy holds up a hanger with a tight black faux-leather skirt and another with a shimmery silver top.

“Nance - they’re going to get ice cream, not to a strip club,” Robin chides, laying on your bed and flipping through a magazine.

“Okay, fine, but I’m borrowing this skirt,” she says, meeting your eyes to get your approval.

You roll your eyes, scrutinizing one strand of hair that won’t do what you want it to do as Nancy continues looking through your clothes.

“Okay! I’ve got it. This is casual, but not so casual that it says you don’t care,” she eyes her selections as she waits for you and Robin to weigh in.

She’s holding a pair of light wash denim shorts, embroidered with little daisies, and a baby pink top with ruched sleeves.

Robin bites her lip excitedly, nodding eagerly at you.

“Not my taste, but totally, absolutely, one hundred perfect for you. Put it on, put it on!” she urges.

You laugh, obliging and changing into the clothes Nancy picked. She has a good eye, you had to admit. The outfit was perfect, cute and expressed that you’d put effort into your appearance, but not overdoing it. As you look at yourself in your mirror, you can’t help but picture Eddie’s face if he saw you in that outfit. His arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. Your fingers trail down to the hem of the shorts, toying with a loose string.

“Hey, earth to Y/N?” Robin waves her hand, snagging your attention. “You still with us? Argyle’s definitely gonna need you alive for the date tonight,” she says lightheartedly, giving you a lopsided smile.

Your lips had fallen into an involuntary frown, and of course the girls catch it immediately.

“Don’t think about him, hun,” Nancy places a hand on your arm, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Argyle’s a great guy, and you’re gonna have fun tonight!”

“Yeah, no you’re right. I’m sorry. I want to give him a chance, I’m excited,” you smile, trying your best to shove the curly brunette metal head out of your mind.

It’s not that you weren’t excited for the date, you really were. Maybe a change of scenery and a new person were exactly the things you needed. But you still felt horrible about setting everything on fire with Eddie, leaving you to sift through the ashes now that the damage was done. And you still love him. The thought wafts through your mind like a bad stench through your nose, and you shake your head as if to rid your brain of it. Screw Eddie, you try and tell yourself. Who needs him anyway?

Just as Nancy finishes applying a healthy amount of makeup to your face, there’s a knock at your door. Like an absolute gentleman, Argyle arrives right on time. You feel wings erupt in your stomach, birds taking flight as your nerves kick in.

Robin notices you go rigid in her gaze.

“You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna have a great time, you got this, kid,” she beams at you, giving you an affirming nod.

You try your best to give a confident smile back, nodding once in confirmation that you do, in fact, have this. The girls shuffle you out of your room and towards the door, practically shoving you to go answer it. Your straighten yourself, taking one last deep breath before swinging the door open.

“Well, good evening, ladies,” Argyle says, flashing his shiny white teeth as he smiles at you and your friends who stand modestly behind you.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Argyle, it’s so nice to meet you,” he keeps the smile on his face, reaching a hand out to shake yours.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” you smile back, taking his hand firmly as you shake it.

“Mind if I steal her away, girls?” he jokes, directing the question at Robin and Nancy.

“Nope! Not at allllllll,” Robin draws out the last syllable, giving you a flirtatious wave.

“She’s all yours! Have fun you two,” Nancy smiles.

They give you a thumbs up when you take one last glance over your shoulder, Argyle leading the way out the door. And so it begins.

•

Tonight is the night. Tonight is the night Eddie is going to fix shit with you, or at least give an honest attempt. The thought of going through with his plan made him want to genuinely hurl, but he swallowed the bile that rose to his throat and was determined to right this wrong. After letting the truth spill to Steve, the only thing consuming his thoughts has been telling you about how he feels. The entirety of the past night was spent tossing and turning in his bed, fleeting dreams of you rejecting him flashing through his subconscious. His plan, as it currently stands, is as follows: he’s going to swing by the flower shop to get you a beautiful bouquet, and then head over to the local ice cream place to get you your favorite milkshake. Then he plans to show up at your door with his offerings, and apologize profusely. Like, he’s talking begging-on-his-knees, praying to the gods above, apologize. He stomach lurches as he mentally walks through the plan again, getting himself looking presentable for the evening ahead. He knows very, very well that there’s a huge chance this doesn’t go well for him. He knows you might just go ahead and rip the damn milkshake out of his clammy palms and throw it right back in his face, or maybe even throw a punch or two - hell, he deserves it. He’s not asking for forgiveness, he’s not asking for you to welcome him back in with open arms. He just knows that he won’t be able to rest well until he’s told you the truth, he has to apologize and be honest with you, whether you accept him back in or not.

Eddie gives himself a once, twice, three times over in the mirror, although his current attire isn’t much different from his usual. He’s still in his ripped black jeans, his surprisingly white Reeboks, and all of his chains and rings. Instead, though, he’s traded his usual band tee or denim vest with a black button-down shirt. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his nerves. He’d already smoked, hoping the high would ease his worries, to no avail. He’s not used to being nervous like this, not used to second-guessing his appearance or feeling his palms grow sweaty. He’s used to women throwing themselves at him, he’s used to one-night stands with no big feelings attached, he’s used to being balls deep inside someone and then never speaking a word to them again. He loves you. The thought plays over and over in his mind. He grabs his phone and his wallet and his keys before heading out the door, shuffling into his car and heading out on his mission.

•

The drive to the ice cream place wasn’t nearly as awkward as you thought it’d be, finding a lot to talk about with Argyle. He’s friendly and outgoing, never forcing a conversation but also never leaving room for the silences to be awkward. You don’t feel like you have to act a certain way to impress him, he’s just happy to be with you. It’s refreshing, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find your mind wandering elsewhere. It was already proving hard to keep Eddie out of your thoughts - Argyle would make a reference to something Eddie liked, the air freshener in Argyle’s car is the same one as in Eddie’s, so on and so forth. It’s like your brain was purposely torturing you, distracting you from having a good time. Eddie probably wasn’t thinking about you, so why did you have to be plagued with near constant thoughts of him?

“Hey, are you okay?” Argyle’s smooth voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out. I’m fine,” you give him a reassuring smile, and he looks at you for only a moment before seeming to accept your response.

“Well, anyway, I’ve never had the ice cream here but Jonathan said it’s the best. You’ll have to give me some recommendations,” he grins as he pulls his car into the parking lot, one hand on the wheel as the other taps on the crevice of the open window.

“Will do,” you smile. “Though I have to warn you, I always get the same damn thing,” you laugh, and he laughs along with you.

You both step out of the car, the sweet scent of waffle cones and vanilla milkshakes filling your nose. Argyle opens the door and a bell chimes, signaling your entrance as he holds the door for you. The air conditioning is on full blast, hitting your skin and making goosebumps prick up. You cross your arms instinctively, rubbing the skin for some warmth as you eye the menu, even though you never stray from your tried and true favorite. Argyle notices your slight shivering, immediately slipping his hoodie off and holding it out to you.

You start to decline politely before he waves you off.

“You’re only gonna get colder once you start eating your ice cream. I insist, take it,” you blush a little as you take the jacket, slipping it over your shoulders and leaving the zipper undone.

It’s big on you, Argyle having a height advantage, so you bunch up the sleeves. Instantly, your brain goes to a memory of you at an ice skating rink with Eddie and the rest of the group. You’d forgotten your jacket at home, and Eddie had offered you his within milliseconds of you starting to shiver. It was one of few times where Eddie made any sort of affection towards you known to others, rather than keeping it a raunchy secret, and you’d felt on top of the world parading around in his sweatshirt. Of course, that night had ended no differently than the others, Eddie fucking you into his mattress and taking you home afterwards, leaving you feeling empty.

You try to replace the thoughts of Eddie with thoughts of your current date, try to convince yourself that wearing Argyle’s hoodie feels just as good as wearing Eddie’s, but it doesn’t, and you can’t. You put as much focus as you can onto what Argyle’s saying, put on a happy face as you give him your flavor recommendations, but a man that’s not here is tugging at your heart strings all the while. You order at the counter, your usual birthday cake milkshake, letting Argyle decide a moment longer. You actually wince when he orders two scoops of butterscotch ice cream, the exact same thing Eddie would order the few times you’d come here with all of your friends. You feel like the world is playing a sick joke on you, refusing to let you let go of Eddie. You feel like you’re not even in your body when you grab a hold of the cold cup that your frozen dessert is in, only coming back to reality when Argyle asks where you want to sit.

You choose a booth by the window, the electric glow of the ‘Open’ sign flickering onto the table through the glass pane. Argyle takes a bite of his ice cream, and you give him your best effort in conversation.

“Well, what do you think?” you smile at him, forcing it a little too much maybe.

“I think I could drop dead right now this is so good,” he smiles right back, licking his spoon clean of another mouthful. “How’s yours?”

“Even better considering I didn’t have to pay for it,” you take a sip of your shake to punctuate your sentence. “Thank you, again.”

“Don’t have to thank me, I’m more than happy to pay for a girl as pretty as you,” he gives you another little grin, nothing but kindness behind his eyes.

You smile back, but you’re cursing inside your head. You have a sweet guy sitting in front of you, genuinely trying to get to know you and have a nice date, and you can’t stop thinking about someone else. There’s nothing wrong with Argyle, and you’re trying your very best to will yourself to fall in love with him or something when the door chime breaks you from your thoughts.

You look up at the door instinctively, and you almost choke on your ice cream at what you see. Eddie walks in through the door, looking gorgeous as ever, because of fucking course this would happen right now. You go rigid when he looks your direction and meets your eyes, and your face is instantly flushed with heat. You suddenly feel suffocated in Argyle’s hoodie, your stomach churning as you stare into those all-too-familiar brown eyes. You manage to tear your gaze away before he does, not wanting Argyle to get suspicious and try to discover what you’re staring at. You give yourself a mental kick, refusing to allow yourself to crumble in Eddie’s presence. Don’t let him see you sad, show him you’re fine without him. You reach across the table and brush your fingers on Argyle’s arm, laughing maybe a little too loud at something he says. You feel bad using him as revenge in this moment, but lucky for you, you don’t have to do it for very long. Eddie doesn’t order a thing, just turns on his heel and leaves.

Eddie feels like he can’t breathe when he gets back into his car, sitting in the parking lot with his heart threatening to shatter beneath his ribcage. You’re on a date. He was going to try and fix things, going to tell you he loves you, and you’re on a date. Of course he noticed the garment keeping you warm, far too big to be your jacket. You’re wearing this other guy’s jacket, so the date must be going well. He feels the bile rise in his throat at the thought of you in another guy’s clothes, the thought of another guy taking you home and kissing you and holding you and treating you the way you deserved - the way he never treated you. The worst part of it all is that Eddie knows he deserves this. He doesn’t deserve to get the happy ending, he burned this whole thing to the ground and he’s left searching for remnants of life in the wake of the fire. He pulls out of the parking lot, no destination in mind anymore. The flowers he got for you sit mockingly in his passenger seat, their sweet scent filling his nose as if to laugh at him. What the fuck does he do now?

•

After seeing Eddie at the ice cream place, you couldn’t get your head back on straight. You ended up telling Argyle you had a killer of a headache, and without hesitation he brought you home. Guilt tugged at your feet as you trudged up your stairs with him, tugged at your heart when he asked if there was anything he could do for you before he left. The poor, sweet guy didn’t even question it, showed no indication of him doubting your excuse. You knew you’d get an earful from Robin and Nance if they got wind of this. You’d promised Argyle you’d be okay and told him he was fine to leave, thanking him for the lovely date. You hated yourself for the way you couldn’t like him, the way every inch of your body and mind was stuck on Eddie. Nothing about Argyle was bad, and you lay cursing yourself on your mattress in your room. You eventually decide to change into something more comfortable, shed any tangible reminders of the date you ended too soon. You crawl under your covers in sweatpants and your coziest sweatshirt, pulling the blankets up to your face as frustrated tears burn your cheeks. Anger bubbles up inside of you, and takes over any other emotion you’d been feeling.

You’re angry that you can’t stop thinking about Eddie. Angry that you had to see Eddie tonight. Angry that you went on a date with a very nice guy and couldn’t get into it because of Eddie. Angry that Eddie left without a word when you told him you loved him. Angry that you let him treat you so poorly because you just can’t get enough of him. Cotton sweater sleeves are soaked with tears as you let the feeling flow from you, balling your hands up into fists and releasing them. Entirely unsure of what to do next, or how to get over this.

•

Eddie went home for all of an hour before realizing he couldn’t just sit around in silence and do nothing. Not now that he’d already had his plan literally in motion, he couldn’t stop. Even if you didn’t love him anymore, even if you wanted nothing to do with him, even if you wanted to throw the flowers back in his face and throw a punch or two, he had to open up to you. He gets in his car, hands shaking and stomach in knots as he prepares himself. For all he knows, your date could be back at your place with you. Or maybe you aren’t even home yet. But he has to try, has to get his feelings out in the open, at least so you know - even if you don’t want to be with him. It feels like every stoplight on his drive is mocking him, glowing red for seemingly agonizing amounts of time. The more time he has to think, the more sick to his stomach he feels. When he finally arrives in the parking lot of your place, he just sits for a moment. Taking shaky breaths, his stomach somersaults in anxious anticipation. One ringed hand reaches out for the beautiful bouquet of flowers beside him, picking them up by the crinkly paper they’re encased in before he opens his car door and shuts off the engine. Every stomp of his shoes on the stairs makes his heart pound faster, coming closer and closer to a confession bigger than any he’s ever given before. He stands in front of your door, begging silently for you to simply answer, and finally, he raises a fist to the wood to alert you.

The knocking startles you out of your slew of emotions, and you groan as you heave yourself out of bed. You’re fully expecting it to be Nancy or Robin at the door, or both of them, ready to interrogate you on why you cut your date short. You swing the door wide, mouth open and fully ready to defend yourself to the girls. Instead, you’re met with that curly frizzy hair and those round brown eyes that you know too well. Eddie stands like a deer in headlights, as if he wasn’t the one who knocked on your door, holding a massive bouquet of flowers in one hand. You let out an incredulous laugh, a no-fucking-way-are-you-here-right-now laugh. You go to slam the door right in his stupid beautiful face when he holds an arm out, wrenching it open.

“Wait. Please,” his voice chokes up as he says it.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Eddie? Saw me on a date with someone else and had to come assert your dominance or something?” you scoff, crossing your arms as if to protect yourself from more emotional hurt.

“No, I…. is your date still here?”

“What if he is, Eddie? Can’t wrap your head around the fact that another guy wanted to go out with me?” you snap.

“No no, I just… I don’t wanna do this if he’s here,” his voice is desperate, rushing to get the words out.

“He’s not here. And do what, exactly? String me along again just to leave me stranded in the end?” the words hurt you as you say them, a part of your heart wanting to just run to him and never let him go, and the other part wanting to run from him.

“I need to tell you how sorry I am. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I was an asshole, a horrible person to you, and you never deserved it,” his eyes flicker down to his feet before tentatively meeting yours again.

“Oh, my knight in shining armor, arriving at my door to apologize and I’m supposed to just fall at your feet, huh?” you shift your weight, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No! No, I don’t expect anything from you. But I can’t run from my feelings anymore.”

“Feelings?” you furrow your brows, your chest tightening.

Eddie is silent for a moment, fingers nervously fidgeting with the paper surrounding the bright green stems and vibrant petals. You roll your eyes, about to shut the door once again when he speaks up.

“I love you!” he blurts, his eyes frantic as they search yours.

“What?”

“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I’ve known you were special since I met you, you’re different than anyone else I’ve ever met. I was too much of a fucking coward to tell you how much I liked you earlier because… because I was scared of getting hurt. And all I did was hurt you in the process, and I’m so sorry.”

You’re dumbfounded, your mouth hanging open slightly as you struggle for words.

“You didn’t say a word to me, Eddie,” your voice comes out quiet, pained. “You left without a single fucking word,” you hiss.

“I know I did. And it was the worst mistake of my entire life. I panicked, I didn’t know what to do - and that’s not an excuse - but I’m so, so sorry.”

You can see the hurt in his eyes, the fear encompassing espresso brown. He’s not joking around, he’s not playing with you this time.

“And you don’t have to say anything else. If you don’t love me anymore, if you don’t want to be with me or see me ever again, I get it. Say the word and I will walk away and never show my face to you again. I was a jerk, and I don’t deserve you. But I swear to you, I will never - never - hurt you again if you let me stay. I’m sorry it took me so long to say how I feel,” Eddie’s voice is breaking, and you can tell how much effort it’s taking him to keep himself together.

You snap, then. Your love for Eddie that you’ve been trying to shove down for weeks, finally claws it’s way out. No more forcing it back. No more hiding. Your feet are moving before you can process it. You throw yourself at him, taking the flowers and tossing them to the floor, wrapping your arms around him and feeling him hold you.

“I hate you so fucking much, Eddie Munson,” you smile through your wobbly voice, a new kind of tears springing in your eyes.

And Eddie laughs, his eyes also watery, because he knows you don’t mean it.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too.”

“Be mine forever, please,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips ghost over yours.

“It would be the honor of a lifetime,” you say.

He presses his forehead to yours, letting you lead when you lean in to kiss him. It feels like fireworks go off above your heads, your lips colliding in a way that finally won’t lead to a quick fuck on someone else’s mattress. No, this time you kiss him and it feels real. You feel secure, no longer worrying that the floor will fall out beneath your feet. His hands hold your face, thumbs brushing soft strokes along the apples of your cheeks. You cling to him like he’s your lifeline, kissing him like you never have before. Pouring your love into him, filling his cup because he’s finally allowing you to.

“Wait,” you say suddenly, pulling back. Eddie’s stomach drops, worried you’ve changed your mind. “I owe you an apology too,” you say.

He gives you a questioning look.

“I know you weren’t flirting with those women at The Hideaway the night we went out… Nancy told me it was a misunderstanding… and it was wrong of me to accuse you.”

“Sweetheart… you had every right to assume. I wasn’t exactly the kindest to you…” Eddie frowns.

“Even so, you weren’t flirting and you still deserve some grace. I’m sorry, Eddie. I blew this whole thing up in your face over something you didn’t actually do,” your voice is remorseful, and Eddie tilts your chin up with his index finger.

“I forgive you, always. I was never upset with you for that,” he promises, and his heart aches. The sweetest thing standing before him, apologizing when there was no need to.

You kiss him again, pulling him with you as you shuffle backwards into your apartment. He kicks the door shut, holding you to his chest as he stands against it. Your fingers clutch the collar of his shirt, mouth moving against his with fervor, like this is your last chance to kiss him. Eddie gasps in surprise when you tug him even closer to you, his large palms spanning across your back and holding you snug to his body. Tongues find their way into each other’s mouths, soft like velvet as they lick and explore. You find yourself grinding your hips into his, your body desperate to have him in a way like never before.

“Sweetheart, sweets,” Eddie pushes out between kisses, finally holding you back from attacking his mouth once more. “This doesn’t have to go any further… if you don’t want it to. I don’t want you to think that’s the reason I’m here,” Eddie says, and his tone is suddenly sad. You know the guilt is still eating at him, and will probably continue to eat at him no matter how much you reassure him going forward.

“I don’t think that’s why you’re here,” you reply, cupping a hand to the side of his face and looking intensely into his eyes, reassuring him. “But I’d be a dirty fucking liar if I said I haven’t missed your cock lately,” your voice drops lower, leaning up to his ear to murmur the words into it.

Your breath tickles his neck and he shudders, his cock stiffening in his jeans.

“Shit, baby,” he breathes, diving back down to your mouth for another heated kiss.

You lead him to your bedroom, somehow managing to make it safely despite the fact that your lips might as well be velcro’d to each other. Your hands roam his body like it’s the first time, butterflies fluttering madly in your stomach. Eddie’s hands are gentle on you, touching you in a new way. Nothing is rushed or hasty, instead Eddie takes his time as his hands find their way up your sweatshirt. You shiver when his fingertips graze your hips and start to glide up your back, his mouth devouring yours all the while. He groans into your mouth when you reach a hand down to palm him through the denim of his pants, making you pull back to smirk at him.

“Getting worked up for me, Munson?” you tease, silently reveling in the way he’s letting himself be more receptive to you.

“You have no idea, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, his hands steady as he holds you.

You smile, leaning back in to kiss him with a clash of teeth. Eddie pushes you backwards gently, taking slight control as he encourages you down onto your bed. You lie back on your mattress, spreading your legs open for him to slot himself between. He climbs on top of you, hovering over you, dark curls falling in your face and tickling your skin. Your phone rings then, breaking you both out of the moment. The screen lights up with Nancy’s name, and you can’t help but laugh. Texts from Robin pop up right after, and Eddie raises a brow at you.

“I’ll debrief them later,” you smirk at him, shoving your phone away and holding his face in your hands.

“I’m so incredibly in love with you,” he says, his eyes pools of melted chocolate, sickeningly sweet with adoration as he gazes at you.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” you breathe out a little laugh, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone… never thought I’d let myself,” Eddie frowns slightly, relaxing when you grip his face in your hands.

“Thank you for letting me be the first,” you give him a soft smile, eyes lighting up when he blushes.

You pull his mouth back to yours, needy hands grabbing at the buttons on his shirt in a hint for him to remove it. He obliges instantly, unbuttoning it and sipping it off before being discarded onto your floor. You take a moment just to look at him, your eyes raking over his shirtless form. During your past hookups you never felt like you had the time to admire him, half the time you were too embarrassed to even try, for fear that he’d mock you for it. Now it’s different. You let your eyes and hands wander up and down pale skin, tracing the ink lines etched into various places. You can feel him growing harder in his pants when your fingers ghost over his crotch, smiling into the kiss when Eddie lets out a heavy breath.

“Need to get some of these clothes off you, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your mouth, pawing at the hem of your thick sweatshirt.

You help him pull it off of you, exposing your tits which lay perfectly on your chest, nipples perking up from the chill of your air conditioning. It’s his turn to admire you now, his hands cupping the soft skin of your breasts as he looks at you like you’re the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

“You’re s’fuckin perfect,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck. “‘M so lucky,” a kiss to your collarbone, “the luckiest guy in the world,” his lips trail down to your tits before he wraps them around one of your peaked nipples.

His tongue kitten licks the sensitive little bundle, getting you breathless as his mouth switches over to the other one. One hand finds its way beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers curling over your mound still concealed by the thin fabric of your panties. There’s a wet patch already forming there, and you know he can feel it. Your cheeks flush when his fingers circle the wetness and he gasps a little, giving you a devilish smirk.

“Oh? What’s this?” he teases, leaning down to kiss your lips and then trailing his mouth to your jawline.

“Need you,” you whine, too desperate for him to retaliate against his taunting.

“You have me, sweet girl. For as long as you want me,” he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, leaning down once more to kiss you all over.

His lips move over the swell of your breasts, down to your bellybutton, finally stopping right above the fabric of your sweatpants. Big brown doe eyes look up at you, waiting for permission. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding at him as you feel yourself tremble slightly with anticipation. He hooks his fingers into the cozy fabric, tugging the pants down your legs before tossing them to the floor. His mouth kisses over your underwear, tongue pressing flat against your folds, causing you to moan at the heat you feel at your core.

“Ed-dieeeeee,” you choke out between a gasp, reaching a hand down in an attempt to take your panties off.

“So impatient, aren’t we?” he purrs, admiring the wet spot he contributed to on your underwear before pulling them off and letting them mingle with the rest of your discarded garments.

He buries his face in your cunt almost instantly, his plush lips so soft against your folds as he presses kisses to them. He tongue is gentle when it first licks a stripe up through your wetness, and you hiss at the contact. You missed his mouth on you, missed his hands roaming your body. It feels so good to know he’s not going anywhere this time. Eddie wastes no time getting to work, his tongue dipping inside of you before playing with your clit, shaggy curls tickling your inner thighs as his head moves. His name falls from your lips like a mantra as he devours you, licking and sucking on you like you’re his last meal. He ruts his hips down into your mattress, erection straining in his jeans. You notice the movement and halt him immediately, almost losing your breath when he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, chin glistening with your slick.

“Why don’t you take those jeans off, handsome?” you encourage, reaching down to run a hand through his wild hair.

His fingers undo his belt buckle with ease, it’s the handcuff one that you always struggled to maneuver. Black denim joins the pile on your floor, and you notice the tented fabric of his boxers instantly.

“Poor baby,” you coo, “look how worked up you are for me,” your gentle fingers stroke his shaft through the fabric, earning a deep groan from him.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he rasps, and you can tell how desperate he is for more contact.

“Why don’t you fuck me, then?” you ask, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

Eddie doesn’t need to be asked twice, shoving his boxers down his legs and off entirely. His cock springs free, and he’s harder than you think you’ve ever seen him. You can see the veins protruding from the shaft, the head a flustered red with pearlescent pre-cum just starting to drip out. A patch of dark curls rests at the base of his cock, enticing you, his heavy balls hanging low beneath. You nearly whimper at the sight, and he watches you as you take in every inch of him. He’s always loved the way you love his cock, though it’s never felt quite like it does now. He knows he’s presenting himself to you in a new way, and you’re admiring him in a new way. All he wants now is to bury himself inside you, feeling every single inch of your tight pussy as it swallows him whole.

“You ready for me, baby?” he questions, leaning down and hovering mere centimeters from your lips.

“Mhm, please,” you whine, keening up to press your lips to his in quick kisses, a tiny string of saliva connecting the two of you.

One of Eddie’s hands grabs the base of his cock, rubbing it up and down through your wet folds. You arch your back instinctively, gasping at the sensation. Eddie chuckles, low and deep, pressing kisses to your jawline and traveling down to your neck. Without much warning he slips his cock into you, the head stretching you as it paves the way for the rest of him. You let out a pornographic moan, holding nothing back from him this time around. You want him to know how good he makes you feel, how he sets every inch of you on fire in the most remarkable way. He continues to stretch you open for him, groaning at how easily you’re taking him.

“Shit, sweet girl, you’re just suckin’ me right in,” Eddie praises, his forehead dropping to rest on top of yours.

You can’t form words in response, the air being punched from your lungs when he sinks the last inch of him in. You’re so incredibly full of him, you swear you can feel him in every inch of your body. Your hands wrap around his back, clinging to the backs of his shoulders, hooking yourself to him. You want him closer than ever, need him all to yourself, and the way he brushes his nose against yours lets you know that he’s not going anywhere. He starts to slowly move, hips rocking as he thrusts gently. Even with his subtle movements, the sounds coming from your cunt are obscene, and all he can do is curse under his breath. You whimper beneath him, clinging ever tighter to his soft skin.

“What is it, baby?” he asks, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“A little harder, Eddie, please?” you ask, round eyes looking up at him.

“Okay, sweetheart. But I don’t wanna just fuck you tonight,” he says, pausing to kiss you. “I wanna make love to you, the way I should’ve been for months now,” he admits, his cheeks flushing pink at his vulnerability.

“I love you so fucking much,” you whisper against his lips, “make love to me then, Eddie.”

And that he does. He gives it to you a little harder, knowing it’ll drive you crazy if he keeps his movements too slow. But his strokes aren’t rushed, he’s not in a race to cum, he’s just taking his time with you. He rolls his hips into you, dragging out each thrust and letting you feel every vein and ridge in his cock as he stretches you. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, hair sprawled across your pillow, eyes glassy as you grow dumb on his thick length. Your lips brush, oftentimes frozen slack-jawed as you moan into each others’ mouths. Eddie devours every sweet sound you make for him, pinching his eyes shut as he picks up his pace a little. His balls slap against you as he delivers each thrust, filling you to the brim before pulling back out. His movements are sensual, his hands kneading your breasts or gripping your hips as he fucks into you. He kisses all over your face, unspoken ‘I love yous’ communicated by the affection.

You’re filled with so many emotions as you let him unravel you, your eyes welling up with tears. Having Eddie to yourself feels better than you could’ve imagined, every single snap of his hips into yours reminding you that this time, everything is different. He’s soaking you in like you’re uncharted territory waiting to be discovered, caressing every curve and dip of your body. You babble nonsense beneath him, his name falling from your lips over and over. Your lips are wobbly, eyes watery as you’re overwhelmed with adoration for him. Eddie’s quick to kiss your tears away, whispering his affections for you between each press of his soft lips.

“My favorite girl,” he mumbles into your skin.

The sentiment he’d given you so many times before, the one you always hoped he meant, always pining to be his most important girl. It sounds sweeter coming out of his mouth now, no doubt in your mind that he’s speaking the truth.

“‘M so close, Eddie,” you pant. “Gonna cum. Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” your eyes roll back in your head as Eddie keeps a steady pace.

The tip of his cock hits just where you need it to, setting your insides ablaze. Eddie’s close, too, you can tell in the way his breathing has grown staggered.

“I’m gonna cum too, baby. Want it inside?”

“Yes,” you cry out, “please.”

Eddie rocks into you a few more times before you’re cumming around him, walls gripping him so tight, fluttering against his cock and giving him the friction he so desperately needs. You’ve got a death grip on him as he spills his load inside of you, his hips slowing as every drop fills you. He finally stills once every drop has left him, taking heavy breaths as he grounds himself. Your tits are pressed against his chest, feeling him so impossibly close to you, sweat coating your skin as well as his.

Chocolate brown eyes meet yours as you come out of your euphoric haze, Eddie giving you a lovesick grin. You giggle as you smile back at him, still catching your breath.

“That was amazing. You’re amazing,” Eddie says, letting out an airy little laugh.

“Feels so good to love you,” you reply, making him blush yet again.

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince slightly. He goes into your bathroom without a word, grabbing a clean towel and getting it slightly damp with warm water. He returns to clean you up, wiping your sensitive skin oh so gently, leaving kisses on your inner thighs in the towel’s wake. You sigh contentedly, curling up under your blankets while Eddie goes to clean himself up. He makes himself comfortable in bed beside you once he returns, silently staring at you once more with those gorgeous eyes, saying so much without even opening his mouth. He pulls you closer to him, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For everything.”

You don’t say anything in response, words aren’t necessary to convey how you feel. The way you curl closer into him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing, says everything Eddie needs to hear. You fall asleep not long after, the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the feeling of his strong arms around you soothing you into a slumber.

The next morning you wake to sunlight peeking through your curtains, casting a soft orange glow on your entire room. You rub your eyes, letting them focus as you look around your room. Your gaze lands on the discarded clothes on your floor before trailing upwards, over the sleeping form beside you concealed by your comforter, until it finally lands on Eddie’s face snuggled into your pillow. Frizzy curls sprawled over the pillowcase, long eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he continues to sleep peacefully. You smile to yourself, your heart thumping in your chest as you hear him snoring softly. After the mess of the last couple of months, your aching heart and puffy eyes over the last couple weeks, the dust is finally settling. Everything was set on fire, and you’re realizing now that flames don’t always leave decay and destruction in their wake. Sometimes, they pave the way for new growth, blossoming beginnings. You and Eddie lie here together now, as the smoke leaves the air and the sun rises, bathed in the afterglow.

taglist: @paleidiot @ali-r3n @edsmunsonsgirl @edsforehead @bambi-horror @emma77645 @sidthedollface2 @figmentofquinn @girlwiththerubyslippers @myblindthirdeye-blog @aysheashea @suppeople @peaches-roses-sins @hideoutside @nope-thanks @squidscottjeans @hellfire--cult @chrissymjstan @hargrovesswifee @alissabckr @munsonzgf @a1ex-ba1ex @parmawiolets @zaddyskye69 @siriuslysmoking

[99hook]

One & Only

Synopsis: He swears he doesn’t care but his actions prove otherwise.

Warnings: FWB situation, Cursing, angst, unprotected sex, angry sex, degradation kink, choking, creampie, daddy kink, oral sex (female receiving), then there’s lots of fluff towards the end.

In other words, 18+

A/N: I’ve been working on this for a good minute now and I think she’s finally readyyy! I hope y’all love it. (If you have a thing for jealous, protective Hook (Tyler), you’ll definitely love it.) enjoy babes & Happy 4th if you celebrate!!

“I didn’t know there were a whole bunch of rules to this!” You shouted from where you stood in the kitchen of Tyler’s hotel room. He had his back turned staring out the sliding glass doors that overlooked Chicago. “I thought we were both just having a good time.”

Tyler didn’t have enough composure to be able to respond right away. As soon as he saw you and whoever that dude was at the bar with his hand on your thigh, he could only see burning red and with every single word that comes out of your mouth, all he can think about is how that dude tried to slide his hand underneath your dress, and how you probably would have let him do it if Tyler wouldn’t have grabbed the poor guy’s wrist and nearly snap it in half.

“And besides, you really have no right to be mad right now.” You were slurring your words and Tyler could practically tell the level of alcohol running through your blood just by the way you’re talking. “It’s not like I let that guy fuck me.”

Tyler whipped around with eyes of fury. His jaw was set and brows knitted so tightly together. Rage was the only emotion he was showing even though deep down inside, he was feeling far more than just that. “Didn’t look like you were making any effort to stop him when he tried to basically finger fuck you in the middle of the bar!” His voice boomed through the room, surely everyone on the nineteenth floor knew what happened tonight, at this point.

“That never would have happened.” You crossed your arms in an attempt to hold your ground, even though it became increasingly more difficult as the room started to spin. “I just don’t understand how you can get so mad. I don’t get mad when all those bitches in your phone send you pictures of their nasty asses!” You noticed the throbbing of Tyler’s jaw. His narrowed eyes averted to the floor before he ran his clammy hand through his wildly disheveled hair and muttered barely loud enough for you to hear, “It’s not the same.”

He stepped out on the balcony and slammed the glass door shut. You stared at him through the large window as he leaned against the railing and looked down on the dimly lit city. Tyler knew that he didn’t have solid ground to stand on in this situation. You weren’t his girlfriend, or anything official besides a fuck buddy. He knew you didn’t have to be loyal to him in any sense, but the thought of you with anybody else? Just the mere thought was enough to make him want to break necks.

The door slid opened behind him and your light footsteps patted against the cemented floor of the balcony. Tyler kept his eyes fixated on a taxi parked outside that bar the two of you never should’ve went to, in his opinion. You tip-toed over to him and leaned your elbows against the railing. You followed his gaze down to the city street below but it was nothing but a blur of swirling lights to you.

An elongated sigh slipped through Tyler’s nose and caught your attention. You turned to look at him, his jaw still set and eyes not even daring to look at you. He was infuriated with no real right to be, but if there’s one thing that you did know above all else, it’s that you love getting him riled up more than you would ever truly admit. Something about the way his jaw could cut like glass and his eyes feel like they practically spear your soul is something you can’t help yourself over.

There was an ache between your thighs and an increasing wetness already soaking through the thin fabric of your panties and the need for him was stronger than you could bare. If you knew anything, it was that you and Tyler were better at communicating in any way, shape or form other than actually talking, and you didn’t want to waste any time trying to get a point across to him any other way other than the best way you know works.

You grabbed Tyler’s arm, expecting him to stiffen up but to your surprise, he didn’t. You picked it up and slid between him and the balcony railing and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. Tyler’s dark eyes were staring intensely into yours, and it was clear he was still furious, and the thought of that guy’s hand on your bare thigh was probably driving him insane but he couldn’t deny that he had an idea on how to release all of anger and it starts and ends with you.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You bat your lashes as your nails rake through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I guess I shouldn’t let anyone touch me but you.” He knew that you knew what you were doing, but he was quickly becoming putty in your hands at the feeling of your nails scratching through his hair, your innocent looking eyes staring up into his and the pet name that you know drives him crazy falling from your lips. All he can think about is bending you over that railing and making you scream his name to the entire city of Chicago.

He was trying hard to recollect his thoughts but the second you grabbed a hold to his broad shoulders and lifted yourself up to sit on the railing, then proceeded to latch your plump, warm lips to his neck he was absolutely done for. His arms instinctively wrapped around your back so there wasn’t a chance you’d fall nineteen stories down and you wrapped your legs around his waist as you sucked on the one sweet spot Tyler had right below his ear.

“Don’t know why I bothered anyway.” You whispered against his skin. “Nobody can do what you do to me. Nobody’s ever came close.”

There was an urgent need for you arousing at an incomprehensible pace and the fully hardened bulge of his sweatpants was proof of it. One of his hands kept you pressed against his chest and balanced on the railing while the other one found it’s way to your thigh and you instantly spread as far as you possibly could the second his calloused fingers met with your silky skin.

“You still let that dude touch you.” Tyler groaned, his voice raspy and sore from the yelling and the alcohol. “Still let him think he could have you. Let him think he could do this-“ a harsh squeeze to your thigh earns a whimper to fall from your lips and buzz against his neck. “Such a little fucking tease.”

You were sure you were dripping to the floor at this point. Tyler had so much agitation built up from the events of the night and he just wanted you to understand it. “Still don’t ever wanna see any other motherfucker touch you like that again.”

Your head was swimming and you knew it wasn’t the liquor doing it anymore. Tyler’s words echoed through your ears and only left you dripping for him, impatiently waiting for him to do what he does best to you.

“Never again.” Tyler’s large hand squeezes your thigh again, earning another whimper to slip past your lips. You pulled back and brushed your nose against his. “Never again.” You repeated. “Can I show you how sorry I am, daddy? Please?”

“No.” Tyler’s voice was like ice in your blood. “You’re not sorry yet.”

He grabbed both of your hands that were wrapped around his neck and brought them to his shoulders instead. “Hold onto me, I mean it.” He demanded before he lowered himself, kneeling down until he was level with the view of your drenched panties peeking out from under your short dress.

You gripped his shoulders anticipating the feeling he was all too good at indulging you in. “Look at me. Don’t take your eyes off of me.” He demanded again. His eyes stayed trained on you, taking into account every single movement you made, every little change to your facial expression, he loved watching what he was doing to you all the while making you watch him do it.

His palms roamed over the tops of your thighs before he slid them up to your hips, pulling the dress up with it. There was a thrill being nineteen stories high, exposed with a city below you. There was something strong brewing within you that had you moaning before he even fully touched you and Tyler absolutely lived for that affect he had on you.

His devilishly dark eyes were burning a hole as he held them on you. You felt the tips of two of his fingers skim down the fabric of your panties and a cocky smirk played on his lips. “Being a little tease must turn you on.” He slowly slid his fingers back up, then back down over the lacy fabric, reveling in the way your chest was already heaving and broken moans were falling into the air.

“I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea.” Tyler shakes his head as a low chuckle slips past his lips. “I think you should know by now that if anyone knows how to tease, it’s always been me.”

You knew exactly what that meant and you felt your stomach twist the minute the realization hit you. Tyler had the willpower and the stamina that was nearly otherworldly. When he really wants to, he can easily have you pleading and begging him to stop teasing you. He loves it, probably more than he loves anything else. The way your frustration sends his name flying through the air, bouncing off walls of wherever you two decide to be at for the time being. The sweat that soaks his bedsheets every time he’s done riling you up and finally decides you’ve been tortured enough. He loves it and you knew it.

Your nails dig into the thick bands of muscle on his shoulder blades when you feel his finger tip lightly graze your clit without the fabric of your panties in between. Tyler watched your mouth fall open and your thighs jolt at the feeling and he smirks to himself because he knows he hasn’t even done anything yet.

The moon above illuminates you just enough for him to see every little reaction he pulls from you. He glides the tip of his rough middle finger down from your clit to your throbbing entrance but doesn’t allow it to go any farther especially when you buck your hips foward in a silent plead.

You feel his free hand grip your thigh hard enough to likely leave his finger prints embedded into your skin. You were already heaving above him, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he barely allowed you to have anything at all from him.

“Tyler” you moaned out, “please don’t do this to me”

Your desperation and your neediness was music to his ears. He glided his finger back up your slit, collecting all of your sweet juices that slid down the length of his finger and dripped onto the cement below. He pressed the pad of his digit to your clit and held it there, refusing your attempts to make him do anything more.

“I haven’t done anything yet, angel.” The pet name Tyler only used in a condescending way such as when he’s fucking the shit out of you and forcing the dirtiest words to bounce off the walls, or when your throat is being stuffed with his length and even in the filthiest state he could possibly have you in, all he can think to call you is just that. His angel.

“You’re teasing me.” You sigh as your neck rolls and you face towards the open sky above.

Your head immediately snaps back down and a loud, strained gasp flies through your lips when you felt two of Tyler’s long fingers enter you and curl against your g-spot harshly. “I said keep your eyes on me.”

He pumped your sweet spot with a force that had your stomach curling into the most pleasurable knots. A feeling of euphoria found it’s way into you, settling in your veins and rushing through your hot blood like a high you never wanted to come down from. You did everything you could to keep your eyes from closing, or rolling, or anything other than what Tyler told you because you knew the consequences if you disobeyed him in a mood that he’s in.

Tyler’s eyes never once falter from your flustered face as he watches your brows knit and your teeth sink into your bottom lip hard enough to turn the pink flesh white. Your back arches as his fingers thrust even faster and he takes his free hand and wraps it around your back to keep you steady before he draws closer and blows hot air over your throbbing clit.

It brings him the most pleasure just seeing you coming undone before him. He takes pride in knowing your body better than anyone probably ever has or will. He knows all your little sweet spots and all the ways to make you come around his fingers, his cock, his tongue or anything else you two decide on at the time. He knows how to make tears prick the corner of your eyes and how to make you scream his name until your throat is sore. He knows how to make you plead for more and beg him to stop when the pleasure is too much for you to bare. And he wants to make damn sure nobody ever gets the chance to learn your body, to admire every part of you the way he does.

His eyes stay trained solely on you as his tongue flicks your clit in an agonizingly slow manner. You were probably drawing blood on his shoulders even through his hoodie with how hard you were gripping them. Tyler felt the burning sensation every time you clawed him and he loved it. He loves when you leave red scars all down his back and his arms, and when your nails leave indents on his skin for hours afterwards. Loves it so much he might get it tatted one day.

“Fuck, Tyler please” you beg, your thighs clenched around his head in hopes that you’d hold him right where you needed him but all it took was for his elbow to push them apart again. He pulled both fingers out of you and took that hand to keep your thigh pressed against the balcony railing, focusing solely on your pulsating bundle of nerves instead.

“Hold on tighter” he rasped as he gripped your thigh with one hand and pressed the other into your lower back since he knows how you like to arch that back when the orgasm rips through you. When you adjusted your grip on his shoulders you felt his plump lips latch around your clit and he immediately started sucking in a steady pattern that had you seeing more than just the stars of the sky above you.

You couldn’t contain the moans and whimpers slipping past your lips especially when he groaned against you, shaking his head from side to side as if you were his last meal on earth and he needed to absolutely devour every last inch of you.

“Bet that stupid motherfucker at the bar was thinking he’d be able to do this.” Tyler groaned against your heat. “Taste you like this.” He flicks his tongue over your clit as he cups his lips around it, sucking and flicking his tongue in a repetitive motion. “Should’ve done more than break his wrist now that I think about it. Something worth getting thrown out the bar for.”

Tyler’s words are muffled against you, his saliva and your juices intermingled as they slide down his chin. You are starting to hear a ringing in your ears the more his tongue works it’s magic on you. Coupling that with Tyler’s fingertips digging into the skin of your thigh and the reverberations of his raspy voice as he mutters against your hot center is enough for you to cry out to the heavens above and the city below.

“Fuck Tyler, please don’t stop I’m so close!” You didn’t even recognize your voice at this point and neither did he. For a split second he thought about doing the little trick he always does when you’re about to come on his face, knowing how crazy it drives you but then he decides, right before your high rips through you like a tidal wave, that you’re not sorry enough yet.

As soon as the warmth envelops you and your eyes involuntarily roll back due to that delightful sensation buzzing through your body that’s so close to reaching an all time high, Tyler stops everything all at once and watches as your thighs tremble in despair for that euphoric feeling that was ripped away from you in a split second.

“Did you really think I was going to just let you have it like that? After everything you did tonight?” He chuckles darkly, only making you throb and your walls clench painfully around nothing. You couldn’t lie, you loved when Tyler’s condescending side came out to play. Especially when it’s so clearly paired with jealousy he always swears he never has.

He rose to his feet and gripped your hips tightly, sliding his tongue over his bottom lip as the flavor of you sank into his tastebuds. “I’m gonna make sure you know I’m the only one that can ever make you feel this fucking good.” His low voice breaks through the night air, sending shivers to skate down your whole body before his large hand wraps around your neck and his lips crash into yours.

Your eyes rolled back as soon as his tongue surpassed your lips. Your sweetness mixes with tinges of liquor and spearmint as his tongue collides with yours. His fingers and thumb gently squeezed the sides of your neck sending a warmth to roll through your blood and the moan that left your lips only found itself caught in his throat.

He pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours, noses brushing as you both caught your breaths. “Turn around and bend your ass over this rail.” He groaned as he let you go. You slid off the top of the railing and did exactly as he told you. You were on your tip toes in anticipation as you painfully awaited him. You heard rustling behind you before you felt his swollen tip at your entrance.

Tyler bent over your body and his lips found your neck, where he took his time peppering hot kisses and small nibbles of his sharp teeth all the while his hand holds his shaft as he glides his length up and down your slit. The wetness could make him come right then and there but that’s not what the goal was to him. This was about proving a point you’d never forget in your lifetime.

His lips lingered over the shell of your ear, hot breath tickling your skin as he whispers, “Don’t you dare hold back on me when I finally give you what you want. When I’m done with you the whole city better know who’s fucking you this good. Understand me?”

You nodded in a needy manner, but that wasn’t nearly enough for him. His hand slapped down on your right ass cheek, surely leaving a red print in its place for days ahead. “Words, Y/N.”

You winced at the pain that quickly morphed into pleasure and out came, “yes, Tyler I understand!”

“Not Tyler.” He slapped down on your reddened skin again.

“Daddy! I understand daddy!” You corrected yourself, and it was then that you felt him crash into you without any warning, pushing his cock fully in and filling you in a way that only he has ever been able to do. You dropped your head and let a breath of both relief and frustration out. Tyler held still until he felt you relax around him, and no matter what kind of sex was being had, whether one of you were angry or not, he always made the point to take care of you.

“Whenever you’re ready, angel.” He breathily sighed behind you, his thumbs gently stroking the exposed skin of your hips. You nodded and picked your head up, pushing back against him as a silent signal that you were more than ready, and Tyler, knowing your body so well, knew what it meant.

He pulled out of you, leaving only his tip at your entrance for a few seconds before he slammed back in, pulling a series of whines from you that he wished he could listen to day and night. Your hands gripped the railing and his gripped your hips as he did everything he could not to come inside you right then and there. His teeth clenched behind his lips as he pulled back out of you just to drive back in again, and each time you made a different sound, let out a different whine or moan but he still didn’t hear what he wanted to hear.

His hand wrapped around the disheveled locks of your hair and pulled your head back. He folded over you again, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear before he rasped, “Remember what I told you?” His voice alone made you clench around him and he groaned when he felt it. “I want this whole fucking city to know my name.” He thrusted a little faster, banging into your g-spot each time.

“Fuck Tyler” you moaned as best as you could.

“Louder!”

“Tyler!” You shout, your voice strained but it surely echoes. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and it didn’t take a genius to know people were probably on their way to work right now. A lot of people were probably going to hear but at this point you didn’t care at all. All you cared about was what he was doing to you.

Tyler let go of your hair and found your hands instead. Your fingers spread and his fit in the spaces as he picked up the pace. He dropped his head to your back and peppered sloppy kisses to your warm skin, muttering against you, “You feel incredible, angel.” But you didn’t hear over your own broken moans and whimpers.

You felt that feeling that you’d been chasing after crash into you without a warning at all. Suddenly you were seeing white behind your eyelids and your knees buckled in, but Tyler was quick to grab your hips and steady you. Your walls throbbing around him were what drove him over the edge, and before he knew it his hips were stuttering and a low groan flew through the air before you felt his warmth fill you to the brim.

The feeling had you collapsing against the railing as pure ecstasy coursed through your body. After Tyler pulled out he slid his sweatpants back up to his hips and leaned back to admire the mess he’s made of you. You were attempting to catch your breath, hair sprawled every which way as you leaned over the railing.

Tyler pulled your dress back down and brushed the hair out of your face. He took a second to really look at you. To him, you’re always so beautiful in moments like this when your hair is a wild mess and your cheeks are tinted pink. He loves afterglow on you almost as much as he loves being the one to make you look like that.

He smirked down at you, his dimples showing as he did so. Hair was stuck to his forehead by the sweat he worked up and his eyes were low and hazy when you looked at him but he had never looked better. You chuckled lightly and shook your head as you managed to somehow stand straight up, even though you were a bit wobbly at the knees.

Tyler grabbed both of your shoulders and steadied you. “You ready for round two?” He smirked down at you, laughing when he saw your eyes widen instantly. He shook his head. “I’m just playing. You ready to get some sleep? I can tell you are. You’re all fucked out.”

“You look so proud to say that.”

“I am.” His sleepy eyes flickered from yours to your lips.

It may not have been the perfect time to address it but you knew it needed to be. After the events of the night and Tyler breaking some guys wrist for just simply touching you, it was time to clear the air and you both knew it. You couldn’t fuck things out forever.

“You know what happened?” You asked as you took a seat in the outdoor chair, and Tyler followed your actions as he leaned against the glass door. “What happened?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think we fucked this whole friends with benefits thing up.” You admitted, feeling a tinge of heat underneath your cheeks. For some reason it was all too easy to give Tyler any and every part of your body but admitting your feelings was horribly difficult.

Tyler was silent for a couple of tense seconds, his lips folded underneath his teeth as he contemplated what he should say. Finally, he inhaled a deep breath and nodded his head. “I think we fucked that up from the start.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I caught feelings before I even knew your last name.”

He was unashamed to admit it and the boldness had you ready to jump on him and fuck until the sun went down. You knew you had feelings for Tyler too but to actually admit that felt terrifying considering you never wanted to give your heart to anybody after what you’ve been through in the past. Somehow between agreeing to be fuck buddies and now, you have confessed your whole life to Tyler. He’s the only person who knows you just as well as you know yourself. The only one to know your past and your struggles. Any secrets and desires. You gave your heart to him a long time ago but somehow you’re just now realizing it.

“You never told me.” You lowly whisper.

“You would have broke my heart if I told you.” He steps closer and brushes a piece of hair off of your shoulder before cupping your chin and raising your head. He then kneels down before you, his eyes roaming over every inch of your face, as if he’s deciding where to plant his lips and settles on your forehead.

“We don’t have to do this right now. Let’s go to bed. Together.” He offers his hand and you take it, and wordlessly the two of you find yourselves underneath the bed sheets in a different way. It was all too easy to wrap your arms around Tyler’s bare torso and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady rythum of his heartbeat and occasionally tracing the outline of his tattoos.

There was a lot that probably needed to be said but the only thing that Tyler decided on was the only thing you really needed to hear.

“Ever since I met you, it’s only been you.” He whispers as his fingers lazily play with the ends of your hair. “You’re my one and only.”

You feel your heart flutter at that, and when he places a kiss to the top of your head. “Get some sleep, angel.” He whispers before he wraps his hand around your back. Before you drifted off into sleep you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, Ty.” You barely whispered and laid your head back on his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part seven

summary: You’re not jealous of the fact that girls on Tinder love George, you’re not. John may or may not be sexually attracted to metaphors. Paul may or may not have a professor kink. Ringo is just vibin’ like always. Gigi Hadid terrorizes your dreams. Oh, and y’all finally get the McLennon sandwhich you asked for.

warnings: 2k words of the usual bullshit, some english major bashing, actually it’s just john bashing ( sorry @spaceyantique​ ), i love english majors, and miscommunication babey!

masterlist and parts one | two | three | four | five | six

i’m writing this draft at 3 am. it’s a new low for me. oh, and the poem mentioned in geo’s tinder is lyrics from ‘for you blue’

“Well, it is a flattering picture.”

You have to agree with Ringo. The two of you are perched on the couch, peeking over George’s shoulder at the Tinder profile. John and Paul are sharing the armchair, snickering at something. Probably another scheme. Bastards…

The photo is the one John had snapped a few days ago of George in the kitchen. He’s got this brilliant smile on his face, just having taken his first warm shower in weeks, and he’s gloriously naked from the belly button up. It’s a little blurry, but it captures George’s happiness—though you privately think that no picture could ever really do the boy justice. Take that, stupid Tinder girls.

“‘George.’” Ringo reads the bio out loud. “‘Twenty-one. Majoring in horticultural science, looking for a girl to put the ‘ho’ into it.’ This is terrible,” he says rather gleefully. George turns around and gives his friend a betrayed look.

“You missed the best bit. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You looked at me, that’s all you had to do.’ What’s that?”

George goes stock still. Slowly, his head turns to John and you swear you can hear it creak like a door hinge.

“You.” The word shakes from his throat with a quiet rage. “You looked through mY DIARY???”

“YOU HAVE A DIARY?” Ringo screeches. Paul has the common sense to look a little frightened, but his boyfriend, who borrows a brain cell from Paul from time to time, does not.

“You write beautiful poetry, George,” John croons, and you have to physically hold George down to keep him from tackling the dumbass. Paul, getting flashbacks to the Shower Debacle, shudders.

You, on the other hand, are trying to wrap your head around the bio. Poetry? About who? That didn’t sound like it was about just anybody. Lucky girl, your mind hisses. Or boy. You immediately try recalling every single time George has brought up a classmate. Your brain sputters a bit and spits out an answer to one of the questions you’d skipped on your first midterm yesterday. Except now it’s fucking useless, isn’t it????

Ringo speaks, bringing you out of your downward spiral into insanity. “Hey, the app says you’ve got a match.”

Frowning, George taps on the notification. “But I haven’t even looked at anyone’s profile.”

“I did you a favor and swiped right a couple o’ times,” John says. George groans—no, the sound does not turn you on a little—and hangs his head forward. By ‘a couple,’ John must’ve meant a couple hundred, because George’s phone is blowing up. The only thing keeping George from hurtling the phone right into John’s smarmy little meerkat grin so hard that he shits pieces of it out for weeks is your hand on him. The warmth of it is radiating out from his shoulder to his chest and sweeping down to his toes. When you take your hand away a few seconds later, thinking it had overstayed its welcome, George has to try very hard not to sigh.

“This one is cute,” Ringo comments. The notification had read ‘Maureen Super Likes You!’ and the phone screen is now showing a pretty brunette, around your age, smiling up at George.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested.”

He didn’t say she wasn’t cute.

“Wait, wait!” John scrambles out of his armchair, nearly pushing Paul off in the process. George’s thumb pauses where it’s hovering over the ‘delete’ button for the app. “Come on, Geo. You haven’t gone out in years. Like, since high school. Since… since…”

“Pattie,” Ringo says. You and Ringo hadn’t known the other three in high school, but, as always, he was good with names.

Pattie? George has never mentioned a Pattie...

“Yeah, Pattie!” John lights up. You wish people would stop saying her name. “Pattie Boyd. Man, she was a catch… I still remember her blonde hair. And those long legs. She looked like, uh… who’s that model?”

“Bridget Bardot.” Ringo, again.

Paul is mirroring the sour look on your face, though he obviously has a better reason for it.

“No, who the fuck is that? I meant Gigi Hadid. Isn’t that why you dated her?”

“She did not/” George protests. “And no, John, unlike some people, I care about more than just looks.”

At this point, Paul looks as though he’s about to cry. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m more than looks, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t mean you, obviously.” But George’s words are lost under John, who leaps back into the armchair and coos at his boyfriend.

“Macca, you know I love you for more than your looks. You’ve got that big old brain, and you’re the best artist in this whole school… it’s just a bonus you’re so pretty too.”

Paul seems satisfied by this. Stupid fucking English major. John could get anything his way with just a few words.

“John’s right, y’know.” You and Ringo mouth ‘y’know’ at each other and erupt into giggles. “You’ve got to put yourself out there more. You’re in your third year of uni and you haven’t even dated a single person. There’s only one more year before you’re out in the real world! And the sea will be much, much bigger then.”

George scowls, unimpressed by Paul’s little speech. “People aren’t fish, Paul. And I’m vegetarian, so I don’t condone catching them.”

“It’s a metaphor!” Paul cries, throwing his hands in the air. John nods and makes eyes at him as if metaphors were the sexiest thing in the world. He’s probably into that. English majors.

“You tell ‘em, babe.”

The doorbell rings, banishing any homicidal thoughts from your mind.

“That’ll be the takeout,” you say. George flies so quickly to the door, desperate to get out of the situation, that you feel a little gust of wind. You hear him say something to the delivery person and then he’s coming back into the living room, take out boxes in tow and a big smile on his face. Nothing makes the boy happier than food. And maybe leggy blondes that look like Gigi Hadid, your brain suggests, and you sigh.

For a good ten minutes, the conversation is put on hold. You’re all broke college students, after all, and getting Chinese is like a luxury.

“What’d you get?” you ask through a mouthful of food, looking over George’s shoulder. He’s sat back down on the floor in front of the couch again and he lifts the box up so you can see it.

“Veggies with fried noodles. You?”

“Same.”

“Twinsies,” George says solemnly, and you high five over it.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, John and Paul share an eyeroll.

“I got shrimp fried rice if anyone cares,” Ringo pipes up from next to you. You bump your shoulder into his.

“Of course I care, Ritchie. Wanna trade a shrimp for my broccoli?”

He nods and you both chopstick over the terms of the trade. George’s grin drops a little. John and Paul roll their eyes even harder.

After a while, having devoured their food like it’s the Last Supper, you’ e all pulled out your phones. You scroll through Instagram and send a funny post to the flat’s group chat, and everyone laughs simultaneously. Everyone except George, who… has opened Tinder again. Christ, how does he have so many matches?

Well, why wouldn’t he? He’s cute… and funny… and gives the best advice when you’re down…

And you’ll be sharing all that with some other girl if you don’t do something about it.

“Why do these girls keep asking about my teeth?”

You scoff, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. George’s sexy vampire teeth are yours and yours alone to appreciate, thankyouverymuch. “Probably have oral fixations, the lot of them.”

John does a whole body shudder and you all turn to stare at him. “Don’t fucking talk to me about Freud. That Psych course tore my GPA into shreds.”

“Right, like you care about your grades so much.” You lean back against the couch. “What was so bad about that class, anyway? I enjoyed it.”

“Professor Pang fucked me.”

“WHAT—”

“Fucked me over! Jesus, I dunno why my mouth just had a seizure there.” John cradles Paul’s face in his hands, trying to smooth away the frown on his face. “Paul, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s a Freudian slip, that is,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when John turns to glare at you. Ringo starts humming Hot For Teacher under his breath. John leans over and smacks him.

“The only teacher I’ve got the hots for is you,” John says, turning back to Paul, and you and George make gagging noises. “Professor McCartney…”

“Professor?” Paul’s Pout (yes, with a capital P) turns into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“I think I’ve been bad… shall I serve detention for you?”

“Okay, just go!” You point towards their bedroom. “Please leave the immediate vicinity right fucking now.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” George says. The two horny bastards giggle and scurry off in the direction of your finger, door slamming behind them.

You go to bed that night with a belly full of noodles and a brain full of thoughts that keep you turning and tossing in bed. And when you finally do fall asleep, you dream about Gigi Hadid, cackling as she chases you around with George’s stupid little towel.

***

Your second exam the next day goes miserably.

Okay, maybe you’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad—you’d done a fair bit of studying that weekend, invigorated to overcome the Coffee Incident. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about George the whole time, and him swiping through Tinder, and whoever the hell that Pattie girl is.

Okay, stop it. You can’t hate her for dating the boy you like. Us women have to support each other, the rational part of your brain tells you.

You grumble all the way back to the flat, fighting with the reasonable part of you. Eventually, you give in. Rational You is right. Hating on a chick you don’t know is what makes up eighty percent of Hollywood’s bullshit romcoms. Yes, you are going to be a good person and take the high route.

That all goes away when you open the door.

John and Paul are standing in the kitchen, whispering furiously to each other. You only catch the tail end of what they’re saying—

“-didn’t think he was actually going to do it!”

—before John sees you in the doorway and smacks Paul on the shoulder.

“Heyyy there,” John says. You immediately know something is wrong. You walk shut the door behind you and eye Paul’s smile warily.

“What are you two doing?”

“Erm, we were making a sandwich for you.” Paul gestures exaggeratedly at the plate on the counter, which John holds up at shoves in your direction.

“Yeah, we knew you’d need a little pick me up after the test.”

You look around the flat carefully. It’s awfully quiet. Ringo’s at his twelve o’clock lecture, but you should be able to hear…

“Where’s George?”

This slaps the smile right off of their faces and neither of the boys can put it back on quickly enough for you to not notice.

“He’s doing yoga,” Paul says at the same time John blurts out,

“He went to visit his mum!”

Paul glares at John and you feel something twist in your gut. “Yes, you see...” Paul looks frantically to the ceiling. God won’t help you out of this one. “George went to pick up his mum… and they’re at yoga together!”

You walk into the kitchen, crossing your arms. “Louise lives in Liverpool,” you say slowly.

“Yup,” John says.

“And the yoga studio is ten minutes away from our flat.”

“Yuuup.”

You can’t believe he’s still keeping this up. “And the drive from here to Liverpool is four hours. And George doesn’t have a car.”

“Yuuuuuuuuu—”

“Oh, I can’t take it anymore,” Paul cries, ignoring John’s frantic shushing. “George went on a date with that Maureen girl from Tinder. He’s at the coffee shop now.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You must’ve said this out loud, because Paul gives you a sympathetic look. After a long moment of silence, John once again offers you the plate.

“Sandwich?” he asks, trying for a smile that comes across more as a grimace.

You take the sandwich and throw it right into the trash, plate and all.