#y’know it didn’t feel like it took me that long to get across all the corners of town

[goldensunset]

pov a huge twewy/ntwewy nerd visits shibuya part 2

ramen town baby!!! yeah i was not about to climb that whole hill even though it really wasn’t that steep. dogenzaka beloved

you only visit this place once in the main game but there are so so many things i could say about it. man the neku-josh-sho week 2 dynamic was the wildest and funniest thing in the world

spain hill (from above) (idk uhh what’s iconic about here?) (i didn’t trip on any haunted step that much i know)

the vibes of this place… not accessible until so late in the game (in both games) but so good both times. like the story beats that happened here were always excellent. i always loved being at shibuya stream in ntwewy it was beyond surreal stepping out of the station and just actually being here irl

le susukichi boss fight (and some more cool puzzles)

shibuya hikarie! not much to say here but the food you find here in ntwewy looked so good man i need to actually eat more while here

there are a few more actually oops! part 3 momentarily

[moralesluvr]

oooo can you write something where miguel meets yn’s family for the first time and your mom or aunt or some family member pulls you to the side and tells you “that man….is gonna get your pregnant.”

PROMISES IN THE DARK | m. o’hara.

when miguel was about to meet your parents, he was calm, composed as always, his hand resting on the small of your back—a touch that was as protective as it was possessive. his eyes, dark and intense, scanned the room, taking in every minuscule detail, from your baby photos plastered on the wall to the little intricate details of wall trim and tablecloths. there was an air of quiet confidence about him, the kind that made your heart race a little faster as you squeeze his hand tightly.

“ready for this?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but miguel could already sense your anxious aura.

his gaze flicked to you, and he tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, perhaps usual. “always,” he replied, his voice low and controlled, sending a shiver down your spine. his eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “don’t worry, mi amor. i’ll behave. for now.”

your cheeks flushed at the underlying promise in his words, but before you could respond, your mother appeared, arms open wide in welcome.

the evening unfolded with ease—or so it seemed. miguel was nothing but polite, attentive, and everything your family could have hoped for. but you knew better. beneath his facade of a calm exterior was a storm waiting to be unleashed, a storm adjacent to a tension that crackled between you every time his fingers brushed yours or when his eyes locked onto yours from across the room.

at some point during your little reunion, your aunt pulled you aside, her eyes wide with that all-too-familiar twinkle. she was always so sweet, face as plump as a berry as her reddened lips parted into a smile as she learned to whisper in your ear.

“y’know, y/n, he’s something else,” she murmured, glancing over at your fiancé, who was deep in conversation with your uncle.

“but honey, I gotta tell you—” she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “that man... he’s gonna get you pregnant.”

you immediately choked on your drink, nearly spilling it in the process. “auntie!”

she just grinned, completely unfazed by your surprise. she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and leans into you attentively, “darling, i’m completely serious. you see the way he looks at you? it’s like he’s ready to devour you whole! trust me, it’s only a matter of time.”

your face heated up as you quickly excused yourself, from your spot on the couch, feeling flustered and more than a little embarrassed. you walked back to the kitchen where your family was gathered, trying to shake off her words, but they clung to you like a second skin.

miguel’s eyes found yours as you re-entered the room, and his lips curved into that maddeningly subtle smile. he didn’t need to ask what was wrong—he could read you better than anyone else could. the way your eyebrows furrowed and the way your body language began to appear more reserved, he knew something had happened while you two were apart.

you took a deep breath and crossed the room to where he was standing, feeling the pull of his presence strongly.

“what did she say to you?” he asked quietly, his voice so low that only you could hear it. his fingers brushed against your waist, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken as you gulped, succumbing to his warm touch.

you bit at your lip, debating whether to tell him, but you knew there was no point in hiding it, so you pushed your nervousness aside and sighed, “she said... that you’re going to get me pregnant.”

miguel’s eyebrows lifted slightly, his expression still stoic, but you caught the flicker of something darker in his eyes. he almost looked like he wanted to laugh. he stepped closer to you, his hand sliding around to rest on the small of your back, pulling you just a fraction closer to him.

“is that so?” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk, but with an edge that made your knees weak.

you swallowed, “i mean…well..she seems pretty convinced.”

miguel’s smirk deepened, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked his teeth, “she’s a smart woman.”

he, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “and she’s right, doll. it’s only a matter of time.”

your breath hitched as his words sank in, ringing throughout your brain as the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression calm, controlled, but his eyes were dark with intent, filled with promises you weren’t sure you were ready to unravel in a house full of family.

but there was no mistaking the message he had spoken to you, because when miguel made a promise, he kept it. and judging by the way his hand tightened slightly on your waist, his thumb brushing just below the curve of your ribcage, that promise was as good as kept.

[jnkgrnde]

— can you stand the rain?, clarisse la rue, pjo

FREE PALESTINE: LINKS TO HELP

summary — in which, you and clarisse get into an argument that causes you to kiss in the rain.

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of poseidon)

content includes — arguing, kissing in the rain, best friends to lovers, jealous!clarisse

authors note — TELL ME BABY CAN YEWWWW STAND THE RAINNNNNN 🗣️🎤 this is def butt but this has been in my drafts for way too long so!

it was a beautiful, sunny day in long island. the smell of strawberries from the fields established themselves as today’s scent for the camp, the lake was cool enough for a dip.

it was a perfect day.

and it was a perfect day for you and clarisse to hang out with each other. you wanted to convince her to take a day off from training and take a swim in the lake to cool off for the day, before eventually doing something stupid later.

you knew clarisse was up because she was always up before you, so you decided to knock on the ares cabin door first to find her. her younger brother told you she wasn’t there and that you could find her at the sparring field. you thanked him with a smile before leaving to find her. lo and behold, there was clarisse la rue in her armor with her electric spear, training with a dummy.

you didn’t know how long she’d been out here, but the training dummy looked about out of comission. “d’you wake up on the wrong side of bed or did you add him to your hate list?” she halted her movements, dust flying beneath her shoes.

“did you need something, sweet thing?” and there she went with the nicknames. she knew you loved them, and she also knew you’d get tripped up by them. “so i was thinking we’d take a dip in the lake today.” and you knew what she was gonna say,

“y/n, you know i have to train today—“ “but that’s what you do everyday, clar! please? just for today?” you begged. you gave her your infamous puppy eyes, ones you knew she couldn’t turn away from. she groaned dramatically. “… you got me. i’ll meet you by the canoes in ten.” you grinned with excitement. “thank you thank you!” you kissed her cheek before running off.

she stood frozen for a second before a smile started spreading across her face. her cheek felt tingly in the spot you kissed her in.

you wore a white overshirt with a blue swimsuit underneath, paired with jean shorts. you carried a bag, sunglasses in your hair. you walked over to the lake, a smile on your face knowing you could be in one of the places you loved most.

you saw clarisse standing near the canoes watching the water. she had a towel laid out and was just taking her shoes off when you covered her eyes. “boo.” clarisse feigned annoyance, but still let a smile grace her lips.

you set down your bag on the sand, taking your shirt and shorts off. “not gonna join me, clar?” “nah. gotta keep watch, y’know, for butterflies and stuff.” you rolled your eyes with a smile before walking into the water, eventually going deep enough to wear you can float. you swam out enough for the sun to beam down on you, and just let yourself feel the water.

clarisse watched you. she loved watching you anytime, but she especially loved when you were in your environment. she took note of the smile on your face and how you occasionally paddled your hands to make sure you kept yourself afloat, although with your powers and everything, it wasn’t hard.

clarisse admired her surroundings before her eyes caught a boy staring at you — carter from hephaestus cabin. he was deeply tanned with a good build and curly hair, and had scars all over his hands and face from working on weapons for the camp.

carter watched with a small smile. he held a gold necklace in his hands, twisting them around. it had a sea turtle pendant, and it shined in the sunlight.

clarisse furrowed her eyebrows. she didn’t like what she was feeling — you were just friends, right? it’s just her being protective over you. she didn’t want you to get hurt or anything. she was sure that’s what it was.

it was a while before you decided to get out of the water. you didn’t realize how long you’d been there before noticing that it was starting to get a little cooler. you swam, then walked back to shore, but not before being stopped by carter.

to you, carter was a sweet, caring boy, just not for you specifically, because you had your sights set on someone else. he was starting to show he liked you, and got bolder as time went on. “hey, y/n. i made you something.” he told you nervously but still with a smile. he held out the necklace to you, the sea turtle shining in the light.

you let out a genuine smile before thanking him, not noticing the burning daggers being glared into the back of his head. he offered to put it on for you, so you turned and he slowly locked the chain together.

“thank you, carter.” you smiled before walking over to clarisse. you found her not so happy, actually stuffing things into your bags. “hey, clar, what’s wrong?” you reached out to touch her arm, and she pulled away like you were a hot pan burning her.

you furrowed your eyebrows in hurt and confusion. her face was scrunched up and she looked at you like you disgusted her. she shoved your bag to your chest before storming off back to the main campgrounds.

“clarisse!” you slung your bag on your shoulder and ran to try and catch to her, but she was already gone. your heart squeezed in your chest and you frowned before continuing to walk to your cabin.

a million thoughts swirled around in your head — why was she acting like this? you were just friends, right? you knew she was protective of you, yes, but not to this extent. you opened the doors to the poseidon cabin, where it was empty. you assumed percy was probably out with annabeth on a date, probably.

clarisse didn’t know why she felt this way; she hated it. she hated the way she acted when you touched her, or how she felt giddy and mushy inside whenever you look at her with your pretty eyes. she hated feeling the way she did around you, because she usually feels guilt, anger, or needing to please her father. that’s how she thinks she’s supposed to feel, how she’s wired to feel.

you make her actually feel like a good person, and she knew she impacted you with the way she acted that day.

it was later at night at the dining pavilion. torches were lit, dryads were flying around with silver platters with food, and campers from different cabins were chatting and laughing with eachother. the energy was high, seeing as there was a planned campfire tonight, with the apollo cabin leading the sing along.

you and percy sat at the poseidon table. his plate was full, and he had blue soda on the side. you gave him a small smile. “have you not eaten since breakfast?” you asked. “nah. annabeth wanted to go on a hike and i forgot to eat after.” you flicked his forehead. “why didn’t you tell me? i have a secret stash in the cabin!” you whisper-yelled. “i’m sorry!” he whined. you both laughed as the conversation flowed.

clarisse stole many glances from the poseidon table, specifically from you. despite what happened earlier in the day, you still smiled. her chest squeezed at the sound of your laughter. she poked her tongue against her lips before looking down at her plate.

it was after dinner where you and clarisse actually saw each other. she was sitting with the ares cabin, and you were sitting with percy and a couple other mutual friends. every time you looked up from the fire, there was clarisse who was staring at you no matter what. you quickly looked away every time you made eye contact.

the empty seat next to you was soon filled, but not by who you actually wanted it to be. carter sat next to, playing with his hoodie strings and smiling at you. “d’you need something, carter?” you asked. you didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but you weren’t as enthusiastic as you were earlier.

“well, i wanted to know if you were free later this week? i-i had something planned and-“ “no, she’s not free.” and standing in front of you was the woman of the hour.

you snapped your eyes up at the familiar voice. she held a glare directed at carter. before anybody could say anything, chiron announced that the campfire had to end early, seeing there was a storm starting to move in. “so, um, are you coming?” carter persisted. “i’ll get back to you on that, carter.” you gave a small smile before getting up. you shot clarisse a look before walking back with percy to the poseidon cabin.

the night was dark, and thunder started rolling in. the camp turned in for the night, all except for one. there was a tapping on your window, waking you up from your sleep. you groaned, already starting to yell at whoever it was before you recognized clarisse.

you furrowed your eyebrows, “what are you doing here?” she held her hand out without a word. you hesitated, looking back at percy to see him fast asleep. you looked back at clarisse, and she looked desperate. you slipped on your shoes before taking her hand and letting her guide you out the window.

she walked with you, out to the woods and seemingly to your secret spot, the spot that was reserved for you and clarisse only. “clarisse, why are we out here?” you asked her once you finally stopped.

your emotions were already starting to heighten, the rain slowly following. she stared at you for a second. “i’m sorry.” she apologized. “why? you left me with no explanation like i was some animal on the street and ignored me. why?”

she breathed out a heavy breath. “him.” she whispered. “what?” “because of carter!” she snapped. you were confused, “what does this have to do with him?” clarisse looked at you like she begged you to understand, like you were supposed to know why.

“because he likes you,” she put out simply, “and i don’t want him to.” you blinked while taking in her words. she was closer to you than before now, her breath on your face. she soaked you in, watching the rainwater run down your face. she came to the realization.

“i like you,” she barely spoke. “i like you, and i don’t want him to like you.” you stood in shock. clarisse liked you. she liked you back, and you had no clue. you cupped her jaw and pulled her down to your lips. it was passionate, like she would die without feeling you again. you pulled away, “so, you stormed off because you liked me?” clarisse rolled her eyes with a smile. “well, when you put it like that.”

you pulled her back with a laugh and the rain getting lighter throughout the kiss, eventually allowing the stars to shine.

[atinystaypixie]

CaringBoyfie!Ony

Just something short and based off what I said this morning

It only took you one time to hit Ony with the “I’m grown” line. You had more to say but it never came with how fast he had you bent over with your ass stinging. He respects everything about you and wants the best for you which is why he doesn’t appreciate the unnecessary attitude you were giving him.

He was simply trying to be a loving boyfriend and provide for you, but you got defensive. You aren’t used to being taken care of and it was embarrassing to feel like you were relying on him so much. He already filled your gas tank, gave you money, and now he was questioning you about groceries. It already took all of you to accept his offers the first time, but this is the third month in a row and you can’t handle it.

Ony knew your job paid you enough to get by, but he also knew it wasn’t enough to have your pantry and fridge completely full all month. He wasn’t going to let his girl have to wait for a paycheck as long as he was around. You meant everything to him and if it were up to him you would be living under his roof by now.

He understood you though and didn’t want to cross your boundaries. You weren’t someone who accepted help easily, but he would be damned if he sat back with funds while you lacked something.

Which is how you got here. All he asked was if you had eaten today and if you needed anything from the store. Your eyes swiveled and started targeting other objects to focus, avoiding his question. He didn’t like when you lied and sure as hell didn’t like how you were getting heated.

��Yea, I had some snacks earlier.” You said starting to look past his shoulder instead of his loving stare.

“Okay…,” he tried to let it go, “and what you gon’ eat later?”

“I don’t know yet, maybe some more snacks. I’m not that hungry so I’ll find something.” That made him suck his teeth. He went in your fridge earlier to grab a drink and saw more ingredients than meals, few ingredients at that.

“Bae, y’know you need to eat. You want me to go to the store-”

“I know how to eat, Ony. I don’t need you babying me all the damn time. I’m a grown ass woman,” you raised your voice. Lied, cut him off, and attitude? That wasn’t going to fly, not when all he tried to do was take care of you.

One second you were standing and the next your cheek was squished against the couch cushion. You felt his hand holding you in place by the neck as he kept you bent over the armrest. Before you could even finish your little lash out you felt several stings on your asscheeks.

He had never done this before and it caused you to immediately silence. Your jaw slack from the shock of his actions. You couldn’t tell if you were angry or wanted to melt into a puddle in front of him.

“Y/n,” that puts your attention back on him. His voice lowered and serious as he said your name. “I do my best to respect your boundaries. I understand you don’t take well to receiving, but I’m your man. I won’t let you go hungry just because you don’t want to ask me for anything. Ion like you lying and lashing out at me either. Let’s fix that, igght?”

By now he is rubbing at the skin he made contact with, his chest touching your back as he’s closer to your ear. “Answer me.” A sniffle and nod is all it takes for him to let up. Moving around to sit on the couch, he pulls you into his lap. Seeing you cry is not something he enjoys and he makes quick work to swipe his thumb across your tear streaked, brown cheek.

“Sorry, Pa,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck. The tears weren’t from the pain of the slaps against your ass, but more so from your heart shaking. You knew he loved you and he had torn down the walls you sheltered the fragile muscle in long ago. It was hard letting him love you the way he did.

Your lashes, that he insisted on paying for, fluttered as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “It’s fine, baby. I’m here and I ain’t gon’ stop caring for you, so Imma really need you to work with me. Now give me a kiss and let’s go get you some food.”

✨

Pixie’s Flying🧚🏽‍♀️

I knaauurr it’s been a min since i released something. Yall I have been swamped in school and I am even taking summer courses rn. Free me plz😞 I have so many drafts and not enough time.

Also i am changing from “thoughts of a slutty virgin” to “pixie’s flying”

ENJOY! Reblog, like, and comment💜!

Pixie’s Masterlist

Taglist: @un-lawliet @tophamhat-kyo @nobianna @angxlwritez

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 10

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol and vomit & fluff and not edited!! word count: 2.6k

a/n: so obviously this is fiction and we don't actually know what Mat or Liana or his parents personalities are actually like but I took some liberty with Liana's personality. see end for more notes cause I don't want to spoil anything :) also sorry this is so late!! i went back to work and then had trouble with this chapter. i hope you all enjoy! likes, reblogs and comments feed my writing soul so let me know what you think <3

masterlist masterpost ask box

Liana texts you the day after your meet-up with Mat at the park, apologizing for getting angry with you and asking to go out for drinks. You don’t have it in you to still be upset with her for yelling at you because she was always the little sister you never had and just because you and Mat are having problems, doesn’t mean it should affect your relationship with her. Sometimes you wonder if you’re too quick to forgive and forget but you know that this is an exception. 

“It’s just weird, y’know?” Liana mutters, laying her head on the dirty bar table. She’s on her third drink and you’re close to cutting her off. “I’m going to be an aunt again, but I have this odd feeling about Calista. Like she’s not telling the entire truth.” 

You startle when she suddenly bolts upright and looks at you with wide eyes. 

“What if Mat’s not the father? That would make so much sense!” 

“How so?” you ask carefully. So far, you have successfully kept the fact that Calista is not pregnant a secret. It’s a secret you will have to take to your grave because you can’t let Marlee get in trouble when all she was doing was trying to help you. The truth might come out some day, but it’s something you will deal with then. 

“Mat is just being weird about the whole thing, like he’s hiding something,” she says. “Well, besides the fact that he hasn’t told mom or dad… but there’s something else.” She picks up her glass and drinks the last of her martini before signinally the bartender for a refill. 

“I think it’s time we switch you to Shirley Temples,” you say gently, asking the bartender for a couple glasses of water. 

She tries to wave you off when you push the water towards her but you give her the all too familiar look that you used to give her when you were both younger. 

“Fine, but if I’m getting cut off, so–” she stops talking abruptly, suddenly focused on something across the room. You turn and see a familiar face that makes your heart drop into your stomach because there’s no way she’s that stupid and you’re about to say something but Liana hops off her barstool and before you can stop her, she’s marching across the room to where Calista is sitting. She’s surrounded by a few other people, one of them being a guy you can’t quite place but definitely isn’t Mat, but the real kicker is the drink in her hand. 

You’re not in the business of accusing people but the way she’s laughing loudly and swaying a little in her seat makes you think that it’s not a non-alcoholic drink. You stare a little too long because when you snap out of your stupor, it’s to a loud shriek and shouting. Nearly tripping over your own feet, you rush over to find both Calista and Liana being held back by people and shouting at each other. You manage to drag Liana out of the hands of the person holding her back but you can’t help but stare at Calista in shock. You know she’s not pregnant but you didn’t think she was stupid enough to test her luck by getting drunk at a bar and possibly being seen by people who think she is.  

“I knew something was off about you,” Liana shouts at Calista who only now seems to realize that you are also in the room. Her face, which was red, pales considerably and her eyes widen when she looks at you.

“You are pregnant!” Liana shrieks and when you hear people gasping and the whispers start, you know you need to get Liana out of here now. 

With strength you didn’t realize you have, you drag her outside. She shakes you off as soon as you’re out the doors and promptly throws up all over your shoes. You don’t give yourself time to be grossed out, pulling your phone out of your pocket and calling the first person you think of.

“Hello?” Jax mumbles and you’re panicking enough that you can’t feel sorry that you woke him up. 

“I need you to pick us up,” you gasp and suddenly you’re sixteen again, calling him to pick you up from a party that you snuck out to. 

Jax doesn’t hesitate before agreeing and asking where you are. You rattle off the name of the bar and he says he’ll be there in ten minutes even though you know his apartment is at least twenty minutes away. You’ve never been so grateful to have him as a friend. 

“You didn’t call Mat, right?” Liana asks quietly and you look to see her sitting on the curb, looking absolutely miserable. Her eyes are filled with unspilled tears and you can only imagine what’s going on in her head. 

“No,” you tell her, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her. “I called Jax.”

She nods and leans her head on your shoulder. You sit in silence for a few minutes before she speaks and her voice is quiet and shaky. 

“She was never pregnant, was she?”

Maybe it’s the natural motherly instinct in you, but you realize you can’t lie to her when she’s so upset.

“No,” you tell her and then she’s crying. You know that she’s drunk which makes her more emotionally vulnerable but you also know how sensitive she’s always been and it’s not a weakness. She wears her emotions on her sleeve and it’s only ever made her kinder and wiser than she should be for her age. 

“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you when Mat told me but I was so confused and upset that he was keeping it from us.” 

Then she’s crying even harder. “Oh god, what are we going to tell Mat?”

Truthfully, in the chaos of all this, you haven’t had the chance to think about what you’ll do about Mat. You know Liana won’t keep the truth from him and even if she did, word travels fast and he would eventually find out. You’re not certain he can mentally handle this, not with everything that’s going on between the two of you and his fragile relationship with Nora. He was just getting used to the fact that he has a daughter when Calista dropped the baby bomb on him and now to find out that it’s been a lie? You’ve no idea what he will do. 

“I don’t know,” you tell her honestly and sigh in relief when you see Jax’s car come into view. You stand up, helping her back to her feet just as Jax parks and gets out to help you. 

He looks worried but doesn’t say anything about yours or Liana’s appearance. Once you’re both settled in his car, he tells you he’s going to bring you both to his apartment for the night, obviously not feeling comfortable dropping you home when you’re upset and intoxicated. You know he’s right but all you want to do is curl up in your own bed. 

“Alright,” you agree eventually and he nods, starting the drive back to his place. You must nod off because the next thing you know, Jax is gently shaking your arm, waking you up. 

“I can’t carry you both in,” he jokes and you look back to see Liana completely knocked out. She grumbles when you wake her but she’s coherent enough to walk.

Jax’s boyfriend, Eli, already has their guestroom set up so you get Liana in the bed and then situate yourself on the air mattress. Jax leaves with a promise to check on you both throughout the night and if you weren’t so worried about Liana, you would tell him not to worry but you’re not taking any chances with her.

You lay awake for a while, not able to get the image of Calista drunk and with another guy out of your head. You don’t know how to tell Mat about it and Liana probably won’t either but eventually you drift off to sleep.

. . .

The next morning, you wake before Liana. Jax came in and checked on you both a few times before deciding that it was okay to leave you so you’re surprised to find him awake when you make your way out to the kitchen. It’s just past 8 o’clock but he’s cooking breakfast, singing off tune to Taylor Swift.

“Hey,” you say softly, sitting at the breakfast bar. You know he’s going to want an explanation because even though he let you off the hook last night, he’s going to want to know why Liana was crying and you had vomit on your shoes when he picked you up. 

“Morning,” he replies, placing a coffee in front of you and a piece of plain toast. You can feel his eyes watching you eat and once you’re done, he looks at you expectantly. 

“We saw Calista at the bar last night,” you explain. “Drunk and with some random guy.”

“Huh,” he says, so you look at him. His face is neutral, not showing if he’s surprised. 

“What does huh mean?”

“I mean, you did say something was off about her.” 

That was putting it lightly because although you couldn’t tell him the full story in fear that Marlee would lose her job, you did express your concerns about her without telling him that you knew she wasn’t pregnant. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

You hear shuffling from the guest room and look to see Liana walking into the kitchen. She plops down next to you and groans.

“I’m never drinking again,” she says and you can’t help but chuckle despite the circumstances. 

“Said every hungover person ever,” you say and a small smile crosses her face before she frowns, clearly remembering last night's events.

“I have to tell Mat,” she says. “It’s not fair to him that she lied.”

You sigh but nod in agreement. 

“I have to pick Nora up from my moms,” you tell her. “Are you okay to tell him yourself?” 

You really don’t want to be there when Mat finds out, not when you’re dealing with your own feelings towards him. 

“Yeah,” she says, eating the toast Jax offers her. 

You both finish your coffee and then Jax drives you to your apartment and you drop Liana home before picking Nora up. 

She’s ecstatic to see you, telling you everything she did with grandma from the moment you dropped her off until now picking her up. 

“And then, Millie hissed at me but Gizmo barked and scared her away,” she takes a deep breath before continuing her ramblings. “Can we get a kitten?” 

“You’re allergic, remember?” You remind her, and then a thought pops into your mind. Where did she see your mother’s neighbor's cat? “Where did you see Millie?” 

“Mrs. Turner invited us over for tea,” she tells you and then offhandedly adds: “she asked about you and Mat.” 

This doesn’t surprise you because Mrs. Edna Turner is quite the gossiper. You have trust in your mother that she didn’t tell Edna anything private but you’re still curious what exactly they talked about and you know that your child can be sneaky when she wants to be. 

“What did Mrs.Turner ask?” you ask, rolling your eyes when she sighs dramatically and puts her tablet away. 

“Well, first she asked if Mat was really my daddy and when Grandma said yes, she said ‘that poor child’,” she says, face scrunching up in confusion. “What does that mean?”

You make a mental note to talk to your mom about bringing Nora to any future tea parties at Mrs. Turner’s. 

“Nothing,” you assure her. “What else did she say?”

“She told grandma that if she were you, she wouldn’t move me to New York.” Her eyes narrow and she frowns. “I thought you said we weren’t moving to New York.”

“We’re not.”

“Then how come Mrs.Turner said that?” she demands.

“‘Cause Mrs. Turner doesn’t know how to mind her own business,” you mumble and then sigh, looking at Nora so she’s listening. “We’re not moving to New York, okay?” 

She nods and then smiles. “Can we go get ice cream?” 

“Yeah, we can go get ice cream,” you tell her even though it’s nearly dinner. 

Every once in awhile, ice cream for dinner is in order.

. . .

It’s past midnight when there’s a quiet knock on your door, and the only reason you’re awake to hear it is because Liana let you know she told Mat the truth about Calista. She told you that he had left the house as soon as she told him that morning and hadn’t returned home all day. You were expecting a text from him but your phone was silent and that worried you even more.

So, when you open the door to find Mat standing in front of you, red rimmed eyes and looking about two seconds away from crying, you don’t hesitate to let him inside. He slips past you and toes his shoes off before going straight for the couch and sitting down on it. You hesitate, but eventually settle down next to him. 

He’s resting his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands and it takes you a minute to realize he’s crying silently. 

“Mat…” 

“I just - fuck, I thought that this was my second chance, you know? It wasn’t ideal but I would get to do all the things I missed with Nora,” he says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I was such an idiot.”

It’s not a dig towards you but you still can’t shake the guilt you always feel when he talks about everything he didn’t get to see. Her first steps, first words, first day of kindergarten. All the things you can never get back. 

“It’s not your fault,” you say gently. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should’ve,” he mumbles and before you can say anything, you hear soft footsteps coming down the hallway. You look to see Nora, rubbing her eyes sleepily and frowning when she sees Mat. 

When he realizes she’s there, he wipes his eyes hastily but it’s not fast enough because Nora walks over to him and deepens her frown.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, reaching out and touching his cheek that’s still damp. 

Mat looks like he’s going to say that he’s fine but seems to change his mind last minute. He smiles sadly and shakes his head.

“Not really, peanut,” he tells her and the frown on her face deepens even more than you thought possible. 

“Mama says hugs make things better when you’re sad,” she says, sounding much wiser than a six-year-old should sound. Then, without asking, she climbs up onto his lap and wraps her tiny arms around his neck and hugs him. You can see the moment Mat breaks, hugging her back gently and it’s like all the tension drains from his body. 

You call it the “Nora Effect”, because her little hugs always seem to make you feel better.

“I’m so sorry, Nora,” you hear Mat whisper and you know he’s going to beat himself up over everything that’s happened with Calista - and Nora deserves his apologies, but your kid is one of a kind and you know that she will forgive him.

With time, if he proves himself, he’ll have a place in her life and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for them. 

authors notes: so calista is goneeeee FINALLY. she wasn't supposed to be here as long as she was but I got too carried away with that storyline and i'm glad it's over lol also, I had mixed thoughts about having mama be the one who told Mat that Calista was lying but I just couldn't get it right so I figured next best thing would be Liana! ps: millie is named after my own cat who i will put a pic of in the comments below

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @teapartydreams @alilstressyandlotdepressy @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @bellstwd

@alwaysclassyeagle @brrbrina @nonsensical-nonsence @love-like-woaah @swift-sos @barzygirl13 @ilyrafe

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[maybanksangel]

Eeek topper request ☺️☺️☺️ topper teaching you how to drive his boat and the rocking of the waves feels a little too good 😛

{ @rafeyscurtainbangs } kel baby you ask and i deliver (also first topper request?! feeling a little too whimsical.) and sorry about ur account my love!

a/n: eh this is alright. im not sure if i like how i ended this but here it is!

-

it’s all a blur until topper is waking you up from your afternoon nap to drag you out of the house today because you had complained about being bored, but you wanted to do something fun, not something he wanted to do.

he peels the blankets from your body, throwing them across the room.

“topper, i was sleeping! m’really tired.”

he scoffs, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

“that’s too damn bad, you’re tagging along with me today because im not gonna deal with your little attitude when i leave you here all alone because you didn’t wanna come.”

“mhm, you know what happened last time.” you tease, but topper just rolls his eyes and pulls you up by your arm. “im serious kid, cmon.”

eventually you huff, rolling out of bed to walk to the beautiful pink bathroom that topper hates sharing with you.

you do your little makeup, put on your bathing suit and over it a swimsuit cover.

finally after topper says you took decades, you and him both walk to his boat. of course you’re already complaining because you despise walking anywhere.

“could’ve just let me sleep, i don’t know why you want me to come with you on your stupid little boat rides anyway.”

topper is already sick of your attitude, even questioning himself on why he brought you with him.

“just enjoy yourself baby, quit complaining.”

after a long while, the boat glides along the water. you can hear topper calling your name. you waddle over to him, arms crossed. “sit on my lap baby, gonna teach you how to drive the boat.” he exclaims.

so you do just that, lifting yourself up onto his lap and your back facing him.

he directs your hands to hold what you’re supposed to.

“i won’t be able to do it top, it’s hard!” he scoffs at your statement, hooking his head over your shoulder to look at you in the eyes.

“you can do it babygirl, you’ll be fine.”

eventually you get the idea. while you’re helping topper drive the boat, he is relaxing and you’re still on his lap.

you feel the rocking of the water beneath you, sucking in a gasp.

“t-top, i don’t wanna do it anymore!” little did you know, topper knew exactly why you didn’t want to drive the boat anymore. he could as well feel the rocking of the water.

“why princess? you’re doing so well.. basically a professional hm?”

“i-i just don’t wanna do it anymore, you can do it now!” topper just chuckles, lifting her up off his lap. “y’know, if your little pussy was experiencing some pleasure, you coulda just said that baby.”

your cheeks fill up with embarrassment, your hands flying to cover your face and you feel like crying.

“no need to get embarrassed doll. it’s normal, now go back to what you were doing. i’ll drive the boat sweet thing.”

[mrs-dr-reid]

Show Me How Sorry

A Wolverine Fic

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader makes Logan prove how sorry he is after an argument

Genre: A teensy bit angsty, then pure filth. I don’t make the rules, bub

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (I mean it), Swearing, insecurity, crying, unprotected p in v (DON’T BE SILLY, WRAP YOUR WILLY), oral (fem receiving), fingering, choking kinda(?), a Hugh Jackman-sized Wolverine (aka size kink), groveling (*cackling intensifies*), breeding kink if you squint, kinda subby Logan/kinda dom reader but for plot reasons

A/N: You’re welcome. Also, ayyyyyy, first published work of smut! Big thanks to @snixkers for being my beta reader and editor, as well as @foxy-eva and @imagining-in-the-margins for being my human thesauruses.

Word Count: 2694

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Y/N had to hand it to Charles: the roof of X-Mansion was one of the best stewing places she’s ever come across. Throughout her life, she’d found herself in plenty of spots that were ample for sitting and seething about a bad day or a petty argument: fire escapes, tree houses, a water tower that one time, but none were as effective as crawling out of the window of her room at the mansion and sitting on top of the dormer with her knees pulled up to her chest. Which is what she was doing now, all because of Logan.

This particular fight was a long time coming. Ever since they’d started dating, little things had been piling up and slowly reaching a tipping point, leading to the idea that Logan didn’t think Y/N was capable of handling herself. She confronted him about it, and the resulting screaming match culminated in Logan slamming the door and Y/N retreating to the roof, where she had been staying for nearly two hours.

She was watching the sun sink below the treeline when she heard her window open and a familiar gruff voice. “Y’know, one of these days you’re gonna fall off the roof.” Logan crawled out of the window and fixed her with a disapproving stare. Y/N avoided eye contact and ground out, “For your information, Hard Ass, I’ve been doing this since before my mutation manifested, and I never fell off of anything once. And in case you forgot, I can fly, so even if I did, I’d be fine,” hugging her knees tighter.

Logan let out a sigh and said, “Can we talk? Please?”

She turned her head away. “Unless the next thing that comes out of your mouth is an apology, I don’t want to talk to you right now.” A groan escaped him, then she heard him say, “Okay, I’m sorry. Will you get off the roof now?”

The last embers of anger Y/N had left in her belly stoked back up into a raging fire at him reacting to her wanting an apology like it was some great inconvenience, and the idea that he was only saying it to get her to come back inside.

She whipped her head back towards him and snapped, “Sorry for what, Logan? Do you know why I’m upset with you, or are you just handing over a baseless apology hoping I’ll forgive you just like that?”

A look of surprise crossed Logan’s face at her tone. He thought for a moment, then said, “I think I know, but I want you to tell me anyway because I want to understand.”

His tone was even and measured like he was extending an olive branch, so Y/N nodded and let her legs hang off the dormer as she took a deep breath to steady herself.

“When I joined the X-Men, I thought I was finally done with people overlooking me, underestimating me, belittling me. I thought I’d finally found a group of people who would support me and let me handle things on my own. You’re the only one who doesn’t do that, and I can’t take it anymore, Logan. Do you have any idea what it feels like when the people you love actively show how much they don’t think you’re capable of? I have power now. I can make a huge difference in the world, and in the lives of the students, but hearing someone I love say in not so many words that I can’t handle something? It hurts.”

Logan was silent for a moment, then he carefully made his way onto the dormer. He sat beside Y/N, tilting her chin up so she’d look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry for makin’ you feel that way. You’re one of the most capable people I know, and I’m sorry for underestimatin’ you. I just don’t wanna see you get hurt if you take on more than you can bear on your own. You’re my best girl, and I wanna keep you safe, okay?”, he asked, wiping away the tear stains on Y/N’s cheeks.

She nodded, then said, “Thank you for the apology, and for explaining yourself.”

Logan smiled and said, “Anytime, Darlin’,” before kissing her forehead.

After a moment of silence only broken by the rustling of the wind and birds chirping, Y/N said, “I’m still mad at you though, Howlett, and words aren’t gonna cut it.”

Logan quirked his eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then what did you have in mind?”

She leaned in and whispered, “You’re gonna show me just how sorry you really are,” before sliding off the dormer and crawling back through her window. Logan watched, letting out a lustful groan as she did so.

Once he’d managed to get back through the window, his Adam’s apple bobbed at the sight of Y/N sitting on the end of her bed with her denim-clad legs spread and her flannel shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal a black lace bra underneath. She raised an eyebrow suggestively and said, “Get to work, Big Boy. You know where I want you.”

His eyes darkened before he husked, “Yes, ma’am,” and dropped to his knees in front of her.

Y/N unbuttoned her flannel the rest of the way and let it slip off her shoulders as Logan pressed open-mouthed kisses to her stomach, and she let out a breathy sigh of his name, weaving her fingers into his hair, when his lips started traveling lower and his hands came up to fiddle with the button of her skinny jeans.

She breathed out, “Go on, Tough Guy,” so Logan popped the button and started sliding her skinny jeans down her legs, cursing under his breath as it happened slower than he would have liked.

He grunted out, “Hate it when you wear these pants, Darlin’. Takes fuckin’ forever to get ‘em offa you.”

“I know. I only wear them when I want to make you work for it.” She unhooked her bra and sent it flying towards her hamper, earning her a groan from the man kneeling between her legs as he finally managed to rid her of the dreaded jeans. Y/N crooked her finger at him, so he obliged instantly, kissing his way from her clavicle to her inner thighs, nipping at her skin and soothing the bites with his tongue along the way in his efforts to coax his favorite noises from her.

Y/N let out a tiny gasp when she felt Logan’s breath on her clothed center, and gripped his hair tighter before he could do anything else. She made him look at her before she said, “Do you have anything to say for yourself, Logan?”

Logan ran his hands up and down her legs and said, “I’m sorry for hurting you, Sweetheart. I was being an asshole, and I’m so sorry. You smell so fuckin’ good, Baby. Can I show you how sorry I am now?”, while hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her black lace panties and looking up at her with pleading eyes. Y/N pretended to think for a moment, then loosened her grip on his hair and said, “Go ahead, Bubba.”

He groaned in thanks before sliding the soaked fabric down her legs and tossing them over his shoulder.

Logan took a moment to breathe in her scent, but when Y/N’s nails scratched at his scalp, he took the hint and draped her legs over his shoulders before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her core. He let out a guttural moan when Y/N whispered, “Good boy,” and tightened her grip on his hair like she was trying to bury him in her pussy (not that he would have complained). He continued lapping at her like he was on death row and she was his last meal, relishing in the sounds he was drawing out of her. When Y/N was least expecting it, Logan added two fingers into the mix, which made her whine his name and dig her heels into his back.

He continued his ministrations, and Y/N felt the familiar knot in her belly tighten. “I’m so close, Lo. Always make me feel so good, Bubba.”

Logan let out an honest-to-god growl against her as he spread her legs even wider and sucked on her clit. Her orgasm crashed over her, and she let out a breathless moan of Logan’s name as if it was the only word she knew. He whispered soothing words against her as she came down from her high.

Once Y/N had caught her breath, she said, “You’re still wearing a lot of clothes there, Wolvie,” and fiddled with the collar of his leather jacket.

Logan shot her a look. “Still not satisfied with my apology, Princess?”

She sat up to gather the front of his tank top in her grasp, then pulled him onto the bed. “No, that was a perfectly adequate apology. I just need to remind you what happens when you hurt my feelings," before flipping them over so she was straddling him.

Logan’s eyes blew wide with lust, and he shed his jacket as quickly as he could while Y/N undid his belt and jeans. He went to put his hands on her hips, but she held his hands down at his sides. “Uh-uh. Touching is a privilege, Big Boy. You haven’t earned it back yet,” before ridding him of his pants and tank top. She kept his boxers on, and she rested all of her weight on his throbbing erection before sitting back on her heels and surveying him. She tilted her head to the side, a seductive smirk on her face as she shifted her hips ever so slightly so he could feel her desire pooling against him.

Logan dropped his head onto the pillow behind him and groaned, “Woman, you’re gonna be the death of me,”

Y/N leaned closer and whispered, “Quite a feat considering you’re effectively immortal,” before attaching her lips to his pulse point and running her hands down his broad chest, earning a guttural moan from the man beneath her. She snuck her hand into his boxers and stroked his length with her index finger a few times.

The whole time she was teasing him, Logan was gripping the sheets as hard as he could to keep his hands to himself.

Y/N withdrew her hand from Logan’s boxers. “You’ve been so good, Bubba. Have you learned your lesson?” She asked, toying with the waistband as he let out a strained, “Yes, ma’am.”

She replied, “Good,” then lifted herself off of him briefly to drag the final barrier between them down his legs and discard it. She lined herself up, then said, “Touch me, Lo. You’ve earned it,” before sinking down on his cock.

His hands flew up to grip her hips the second he was permitted while letting out a euphoric moan.

Y/N let out a whimper of, “So big, Honey. You fill me up so good. Fuck!”, and gripped Logan’s shoulders before starting to move above him.

He grunted out, “Love making you feel good, Sugar. Love how your tight little pussy squeezes me so perfect,” as he gripped her hips so tight she was sure there’d be bruises in the morning.

Y/N’s hands moved up to Logan’s neck, and she coaxed him into an upright position before pressing her lips to his in a breathless kiss, accidentally applying too much pressure on his throat as she got lost in his lips.

Logan gasped out, “Fuck, Baby!”, against her lips, which made Y/N realize her mistake.

“Sorry. Too much?” She began to remove her hands from his neck, but Logan reached up and grabbed one of her wrists to stop her and looked her in the eyes before husking, “Just the opposite, Baby Doll,” earning a delirious moan from Y/N. She tightened her grip slightly and continued rolling her hips in tandem with Logan’s thrusts. Many moments passed where the only sounds to be heard were the rustling of sheets, two pairs of lips moving in feverish tandem, and skin against skin, with the occasional breathless moan from Y/N or grunt from Logan.

Y/N felt the knot tightening again, and she could tell by the stuttering of Logan’s hips that he wasn’t too far behind.

“So good, Lo! Gonna make me cum!” She buried her hands in his hair once again to tug at the strands desperately.

He grunted back, “I’m close, too, Darlin’. Wanna cum inside you so bad, please, Baby?”, and attached his lips to her cleavage. Y/N let out a whimper before regaining what little composure she had left to whisper in Logan’s ear, “Fill me up like a good boy, Bubba."

That sent him over the edge.

He started driving his hips up into her like a man possessed. Y/N cried out his name as her climax barreled into her like a freight train, the spasms of her velvety walls bringing him right along with her.

“Fuck, Darlin!” He shouted as he grasped her tight. Y/N collapsed against him with a gasp as the final pulses of her pleasure faded away, and Logan continued rocking into her until he was completely spent, his large hands running up and down her back comfortingly.

Once they’d both come down from their respective highs, Y/N pressed her forehead against Logan’s and whispered, “I love you."

He nuzzled his nose against hers and whispered back, “Not as much as I love you, Darlin’,” before kissing her gently.

They stayed wrapped up in each other for a few moments of blissful silence, then Logan broke it by saying, “Am I forgiven now?”

Y/N giggled and buried her face in the crook of his neck before saying, “Can I get back to you in three to five business days? My brain is kinda mushy right now.”

Logan let out a snort. “Yeah, I can work with that." He pressed a kiss to her temple, then carefully pulled out of her to go get a warm cloth from the bathroom. Y/N rolled over to watch him go, and she silently thanked whatever deity sculpted his perfect ass and sent him her way before he came back and cleaned up the mess they made together, peppering kisses on her stomach and thighs as he did so.

Once he’d finished, he fished his boxers out of the haphazard pile of clothing that hadn’t exactly made it into the hamper, pulling them on before grabbing a Pink Floyd shirt (that he was well aware was stolen from him by her) and a pair of boy shorts from their respective drawers in her dresser. He handed them to her as he crawled back onto the bed.

Y/N tugged the well-loved cotton over her head and slid into the undergarments before beckoning Logan under the covers (which he happily obliged to), and let out a content sigh when he wrapped his strong arms around her and murmured, “Sweet Dreams, Baby,”

She was happy they were able to resolve their problem, albeit through slightly less conventional means.

———————————————————————

MCU Taglist: @libraryofloveletters

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

[fr33time]

Hiii (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶), can I request for a hurt/comfort reader x Jin or Romeo fic?

✦❘༻Self care to forget༺❘✦

Divider credits: @thecutestgrotto

Pairing: Romeo Lucci x GN!reader

Synopsis: MC was cursed by an anomaly, which caused them to have one of the worst days of their life. After breaking their arm after an investigation with Vagastrom, Romeo calls MC to his private room on business, but MC is more than over with the day.

A/N: Yesss of course!! I chose Romeo this time, so I hope you’ll enjoy the idea I have for him!!! I don’t find many Romeo fics so I felt like I should fill the space with one. He’s still a tad difficult to write but I made sure to go through his in game chats, and check through the wikis to see how he spoke. I had fun writing this, and it’s interesting to try something new. Enjoy! Also sorry this took so long to release, I’ve been busy again and I have work to do so I’ll probably only get to writing on weekends. I wrote most of this late at night so I apologize for any mistakes, feel free to let me know! I’ve been waiting for episode 9 to release and I can’t wait since it looks like a Halloween special chapter. Until my next work!

Genre: Hurt/comfort, oneshot

Find my requesting rules here!

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Life did not particularly favour you at the moment. You ended up being taken to an emergency room for breaking your arm, if it had been a sort of sprain then a couple anomalous medicine packs could have fixed it, but the world loves to beat you when you’re down.

About 4 days ago you were sent to be the inspector of a mission with the Vagastrom house. They were investigating a mass wave of kidnappings that they believed to have been caused by an anomaly. This morning was supposed to be the final day of the investigation, where you and the ghouls were planning to capture the anomaly and complete the mission. The day was doomed from the start with an air of bad luck following you throughout. You fell through the floor of the Clementia house, you kept stepping in pot holes and almost spraining your ankle, when the world was seemingly trying to kill you, it also made everything very inconvenient. You were losing everything you placed on furniture the previous night, stepped on a pregnant spider, the power went out, etc.

The final straw was when the investigation was reaching its final stages. Some plans flew off the rails and you ended up being chased by the anomaly. Once it grabbed you, you managed to maneuver yourself out of its grasp, but in turn you ended up falling from the second floor of a building onto the first floor because of a giant hole in the floor. It would not have been this bad if you fell in a different position, but you fell head first and it triggered the instinct to break the fall with your arms.

You were rushed to the emergency room after the anomaly was unfortunately destroyed. Apparently, the anomaly put a mini curse on you that gave you dreadful bad luck. On the bright side, darkwick had come across a curse like this before and was able to lift it almost immediately. Your arm was patched up, and was told that it would heal in up to 12 weeks on account of the clean break, and sent you home.

You felt shitty, all you wanted was to rest and you were stuck having to deal with the ghouls in Vagastrom on the way back. Alan and Sho seemed really concerned for you, but decided to stay silent for now in fear that you weren’t into conversation. Leo on the other hand had a bitter face plastered on, it will always be perplexing how he manages to say the worst things at the worst times.

“Y’know, we could’ve captured that anomaly if honour roll hadn’t screwed up.” Alan immediately threw him a nasty look and signalled him to shut up. Honestly, you weren’t in the mood, if you didn’t feel so drained then you could’ve responded back to him but you didn’t have the heart. Soon, you were back at your dorm, once the Vagastrom ghouls dropped you off and said they would check on you later, you sat in silence for a while. You laid down on the bed and started to drift to sleep until you heard a buzzing on your phone. You could’ve ignored it but clearly someone was spam texting you to get your attention. Out of obligation, you peeked at your phone and checked the messages.

New girl!

Report to the VIP room this instant!

Are you ignoring me?!?!

This won’t be tolerated, if you’re not here in 5 minutes there will be serious consequences!

You groaned out of frustration seeing Romeo’s spammed messages on your screen. You immediately went to pick up your phone and text back, trying to explain what happened today,

Romeo I can’t come right now, can you let me off the hook this time? I’ve had a really bad day and I just want to lay down…

I don’t want your excuses, I’ll add 2 extra minutes on your clock, you better be grateful because you’re wasting my precious time!

And it’s Fico, get it right!

You guessed that there was no saying no to him. You rushed to Sinostra as best you could, but there was no way that you were going to attempt to run there. As you walked inside, the guards that were standing outside of the VIP room were greeting you,

“MC, Fico’s expecting you, head inside.” Most of the staff knew who you were by now. You had been working around Sinostra more recently due to Romeo making you do “Eyes in the Sky” surveillance for him. He was a teensy bit more lenient on you lately, you weren’t sure why but you liked to think that he was getting used to you, bit by bit. It was already later than usual, so you wondered why Romeo wanted you to come to the VIP room at 9PM. The guards opened up the VIP room for you, and stepped inside. Romeo was sitting down on the luxurious couch, sifting through paper work that surrounded his desk. The door behind you closed, and you realized that Romeo didn’t bother to have bodyguards with him. You stood in front of the table, barely keeping it together. It felt like you could snap the tiny bit of composure that you had at any time.

“I thought I told you to rush over here!” Romeo finally decided to look at you and noticed your horrendous physique. Your arm was in a cast, clothes were dirty, eyes drooped down to hell, and your posture was so unacceptable that it felt violating to his eyes.

“What the hell happened to you?”

In that moment, everything inside of your head spilled out onto the floor. You couldn’t hold it any longer. Before you realized what happened, you were on the floor, breaking down. Your chest tightened and tears streamed out on your face and onto the floor. It felt humiliating, crying in front of Romeo like this but you’ve never felt so down on your luck before. It was crushing that it felt like the whole world was against you today, it wasn’t always like that but a pile of stress was building up over the course of the mission, especially today.

“I just- I just wanted to be left alone! My arm hurts so bad- everything is so fucking- shitty!” Your brain couldn’t keep up with your words, your line of consciousness was being interrupted by your hyperventilating. Your throat hurt, it hurt so much from wanting to cry out and having to swallow everything down.

“Just leave me- the fuck alone! I want to sleep— so fucking bad- why won’t any- one just let me rest for once today!” Romeo was stunned, he sat there looking at you while your cries were the only noise echoing in the room. Your eyes were red, and puffy, you looked pitiful while sitting on the floor of his expensive private room. He got up from his couch and kneeled down in front of you, hovering his finger over your mouth.

“Shut up for a moment!” You stopped speaking but there was nothing you could do about your hyperventilation. You tried to breathe deeply, but didn’t help your uncontrollable gasps for air. You looked away from his eyes and tried to look down at the floor, it felt less shameful. Romeo sighed heavily, and got up onto his feet.

“Stand up” you followed what he said and tried to get off of your knees.

“Just looking at the state you’re in is giving me wrinkles. Don’t say anything and follow me” Romeo started walking and signalled you to come along. You followed him and ended up in his bathroom, one of the most spotless bathrooms you’ve ever seen with countless beauty products on the counters and in cupboards. Your breathing was starting to calm down but you were still in rough shape. Now you were confused, why would Romeo take you in here? He started filing through his cabinets and grabbing a few things.

“I’m going to fix you up because you look horrendous, but for now go and monitor my EITS and wait till I’m done. This just means you’re gonna work twice as hard tomorrow as payment for this.” You started to realize that he was going to take care of you when you looked at all of the products in his arms. You listened to what he said and sat down on his couch to look at the cameras in the casino. You didn’t mind staying any longer anymore, it would be nice to rest but you felt like Romeo wanted to help you in his own weird way. That’s what you wanted to believe, and in reality it wasn’t that far from the truth. It made you smile a bit, but you knew that if Romeo caught you then he would probably throw you out in an instant, so you kept it down. You were done with everything, this was the best you were gonna get out of everything. Not much time passed before Romeo set up, he called you over before you knew it.

“New girl! Get over here!” You got up and met Romeo in the bathroom, finding a chair in front of the sink, with a whole line of facial items set up.

“Sit down and straighten your back. I won’t accept sloppiness.” As you sat down, Romeo cleared space and put his laptop on the counter in front of you. It looked like he still wanted you to work, but he interrupted your thought as he spoke.

“I’ll watch it, but tell me if you see something wrong or there’ll be consequences.” Romeo turned your chair so that it was parallel to the counter. Facing it towards him, it helped him see your face better and it was easier to apply things on you. He stayed organized and started to put things on your face, first a cold compress eye mask, then a cold towel to reduce overall swelling in your face, applied a couple moisturizers, gently massaging your eyelids, it felt like pure bliss. You weren’t sure why he was doing this, and even Romeo was questioning why he did this all for you. He wanted to make you stop crying by giving you a mini facial, and registered it as wanting to get rid of your scrunched up face and out of his sight to use it against you later.

You looked in the mirror after he was done and barely recognized yourself. You were glowing, and it looked like you never even cried in the first place. When you checked the time, it was almost 11PM. There were many missed messages from Alan, asking where you were and if you were alright.

“Oh wow, it’s getting really late. I’m so sorry for taking up your time, I should be going soon!” When you were getting back up, you felt a pair of hands push down gently on your shoulders to make you sit.

“You’re sleeping here tonight, I’m not listening to complaints. You’re getting up in the morning and working all day for me tomorrow as payment. I spent my precious time on you, so you should feel indebted to me.” He folded his arms and looked at you, expecting an answer.

“Um… where would I even sleep?” You didn’t have the strength to fight, it’s not like you wanted to walk all the way back to your dorm late at night anyways. You were tired and needed to rest, it didn’t matter where it was anymore.

“On the couch, it’s high quality so it should be better than the shabby one you have. Any BFB would be able to tell the quality difference as soon as they sat down.” You were a bit perplexed by his out of place acronyms, but you had no clue what he was talking about.

“…BFB?”

“Bumbling Fucking Buffoons, it should be obvious.” All you could do was smile slightly and nodding your head to appease him. Romeo got up to set up the couch comfortably, you still had a broken arm so you needed a cozy space to be in to put your mind at ease.

“Thank you Romeo, I feel much better now. You helped me alot, and I appreciate it.” He was turned away from you, so you couldn’t see the look on his face, but a slight blush came across his face. He shouldn’t be feeling embarrassed but he did, he didn’t understand his own feelings.

“It’s Fico, you BB. I’m making sure you wake up early to get started in an organized fashion, so enjoy comfort while it lasts.” You were surprised that Romeo did all of this for you, but it was sweet in his standards. He made you feel better by giving you some self care, and offered you to stay here so you wouldn’t walk back. He did want you to work all day tomorrow, but you could make it through, he didn’t assign hard tasks to you so you weren’t worried. You hoped that you and him could have a better relationship someday, it was going to take a while, he had multiple walls in front of him that were made out of brick. But it felt like you climbed over that first hurdle.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 18: Impact play

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) spanking, dirty talk, degradation (use of the word slut), fingering, some dom/sub undertones, if I missed anything please let me know!

Cooper’s knees dug into your abdomen, pressing against your breasts and the center of your stomach in a way that made your body feel a hollow weight from within.

But you couldn’t complain. You liked the position, bent over his lap like this.

You liked the dynamic it created.

He had all the power. You were just a rag doll; a toy. And it made your skin heat up in anticipation.

One of his hands rested on your back, while the other fell over the curve of your ass in long, sweeping motions. His palm was dry and weathered against the soft swells of your bare skin, and you relished in the warmth that emanated from him.

“Y’make it real easy,” Cooper muttered, moving the hand that was on your back to grab at the scruff of your collar. “Crawl right onto my lap when ya fuck up. Like it’s what’cha wanted.”

You bit back a whine as his hand sunk lower. His fingertips grazed your inner thigh, and the heel of his palm almost dipped between your folds.

“I’m—” You tried to counter his accusation, but there was a loud smack; a hot, stinging pain on your ass. It forced your words to dissipate into a yelp.

“Ain’t tell ya to open your mouth,” he rubbed gently over the spot he’d spanked. “You speak when ya ready to apologize t’me. When I’m ready t’hear it.”

You nodded, swallowing. You squirmed in his lap, head falling forward to look at the ground beneath the chair he sat on.

“Don’ fuckin’ move.” Cooper rasped, as if you had any choice in this position. Even if you wanted to, it would take much effort to sit up and move off of him.

It’s a good thing you didn’t want to.

His hand came down in a barrage. He hit you hard, fast, pulling back almost immediately upon the moment of contact to get his point across. He struck you until he was certain you would bruise, remember not to question his directions, not to put yourself in harm’s way.

You cried out, high mewls forced from your lungs in response to the non-stop impact.

Cooper let up for a moment, admiring his work.

The brief moment of tranquility allowed your body to acknowledge the true level of pain; it was sharp, sticking to your skin and seeping into your muscles.

It made you keen for him, arching your back enough to nudge his hand where it sat on your ass.

“Not a punishment if ya like it.” He scoffed, but he brought his hand down once more for another forceful blow.

“You’ll just have to find another way to give me hell.” You smiled. The way your head lolled off of his lap made the blood rush to your face. It felt warm.

“Not what this is,” he tsked, “’F I wanted to give you hell, I’d’a let you deal with the yao gui.” He pulled on the back of your shirt again—for the satisfaction, the knowledge that he could toss you around, but also for emphasis and to ensure you were listening. “Fuckin’ stupid.”

“I could’ve.” You retorted, and he laughed.

“Ya could’ve,” he grinned wickedly, “Now—be honest, sweetheart. You don’ do dumb shit cause y’think ya can handle it; you do dumb shit cause y’know it pisses me off.”

You didn’t answer him, writhing against his lap.

“You like seein’ me mad,” he squeezed your ass, blunt nails threatening your skin, “Ain’t that right?” When you whined, he spanked you again. “Answer me, girl.”

“Yeah,” you sighed against the pain, “Like seeing you mad.”

“Like gettin’ me mad.” He responded in a low growl, returning to smacking your ass at his rushed pace.

Your skin felt like it would tear, the strikes becoming almost numbing as the jolts distracted from the burning pain that settled when he took his hand away. It was delicious, and you clenched around nothing every time struck you.

Cooper stopped again, dragging his fingers down your ass and over your thighs. He pressed his fingers between your legs, his fingers running through your folds.

“Slut,” he spat, but there was no real malice to the accusation. “Drippin’ like this cause of a fuckin’ spankin’.”  

You hissed when his fingers brushed your clit, your slick lubricating his fingers as he kneaded against your swollen bud.

“You ‘bout ready to apologize now?” He was saccharine, toying with you the way he loved to.

With bated breath, you nodded, deciding to play it safe rather than trust your voice. He wouldn’t give you what you wanted if you spoke back out of turn.

“Go’head,” Cooper drawled, tilting his head back to watch his fingers graze your clit. “Say sorry.”

“I’m sorry, Cooper,” you whined, trying not to buck your hips against his hand. “I wasn’t—I didn’t listen. Should’ve listened.”

He huffed. “Say it like y’mean it, sweetheart.”

With a whimper, you complied.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” your words carried a sense of urgency now, eager to have him inside of you. “I won’t do it again—I’ll be good, I’ll listen, I’ll do what you tell me to, Coop, I promise. I’m sorry!”

Upon hearing your feeble cry of ‘sorry,’ he pushed two fingers into you.

“F—uck—” You weren’t expecting the intrusion so suddenly, but you pressed yourself back against his fingers and savored the feeling of the stretch against your walls.

“S’all ya needed to do, sweetheart—jus’ had t’show me how sorry y’are,” he curled his fingers, eliciting a filthy, wet sound from your cunt. “Not that I believe ya—‘won’t do it again’ my ass. But at least y’fuckin’ listened, for once. Followed my instructions.” He smirked, turning his wrist to allow his fingers to press into your most tender spot.

“I—I won’t,” you tried to argue. He was right, though—you’d continue to do as you pleased and piss him off in the process. “I promise.”

He pulled his fingers from you, bringing his hand down against your ass for a sticky smack.

“Don’ fuckin’ lie to me, girl,” he threatened with a rumble from his chest, “Tell me th’fuckin’ truth.”

You squeaked, trying to grind your hips down for some friction when he removed his hand from your core.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I’ll try—try to be good for you. I will. I promise I will, Coop. I’ll try.”

He hummed, bringing his fingers back to your hole and pushing them into you again.

“Good girl,” he sounded sardonic, but you knew his praise was genuine. “Wet my hand ‘n’I’ll forgive ya.”

He curled his fingers repeatedly, punching them against the delicate spot on your front wall until the muscles in your thighs tensed.

“Cooper—” You moaned, rocking against him and letting your eyes flutter closed.

“Needy fuckin’ pussy,” he growled as he watched you grind onto his fingers. “Gimme what I want ‘nd all’s forgiven, sweetheart. C’mon, now.”

He talked you into your high, his gruff voice and the merciless movement of his fingers working in tandem to push you over the edge.

You gasped, hips stuttering against his hand and clenching around his fingers.

Cooper groaned, throwing his head back before quickly returning his focus to the way your cunt wrapped around him.

“There ya go,” he drawled, “Soakin’ my fingers. Fuck, y’squeeze me nice…”

He slid them from you with a soft squelch, and you whimpered. His hand again fell onto your ass, wiping your slick onto your curves to add a shine to the bruises that had begun to form.

You sighed, your limbs heavy.

“You’re right, y’know,” you smirked, rolling onto your side as best you could without falling off his lap, trying to meet his gaze. “I do like it when you spank me.”

Cooper looked down at you, grinning. “Well, I like it, too. Ain’t stoppin’ jus’ cause y’like getting’ put in your place.” He rubbed his thumb gently against your skin, “Hell—might bend y’over more often.”

“Please,” you hummed, letting your knuckles graze the crooked floorboards below you. “And I’ll keep trying to be good.”

“Doin’ alright, sweetheart,” he chuckled low, “Better’an alright. You’re a trooper—jus’ like givin’ ya shit. You know that.” His hand stilled for a moment. “Jus’ want’cha safe.”

You nodded, sighing happily as you sagged against his legs.

“So, y’wanna stay like that?” He bounced his knee, making you flinch and try to steady yourself. “Or are ya gonna come up here and thank me for teachin’ you a lesson?”

[belokhvostikova]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Perhaps the karma gods of the world were just as perverted as Hawkins’ residential Freak, Eddie Munson, himself, as the perfect opportunity to lay his hands on you arose when you go searching for helpless students to tutor.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, brief mentions of religion, naivety, feelings of embarrassment, perversion, and explicit sexual content: fondling, minimal spanking, mentions of virginity, mentions of female masturbation, male masturbation, tiny praise kink, stuffed animal humping, clit rubbing, handjob, oral (both receiving), corruption kink, cum eating and dubcon (just precautionary).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I tried to be gross! Sorry it took so long. It's quite hard writing about a plotline that doesn't pertain to Eddie being mad at us for taking his picture and putting it in the yearbook (my series, you should read it). I'm trying to get into the groove of writing, so I apologize in advance if this is literal butt cheeks, I tried. Also, you will be getting an unwarranted history lesson.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“…Man, I told Jeff that my mom would get pissed off if he left his beer cans in the garage, and he was all like, “Nah, dude, I promise I’ll pick ‘em up,” and he didn’t! Of course, he didn’t…”

In retrospect, tuning out the complaints of Gareth Emerson may not have been the smartest moves, as Corroded Coffin had just lost their only space to freely practice. You know, where they wouldn’t get dirty looks and threats of the police for public disturbance. And surely, as lead guitarist and singer of such an aspiring band, Eddie Munson would have been fully engrossed at the sudden mention of the deterrence into their path to wealth, fame, and glory… right? No. Because this is Eddie Munson we’re talking about here. And behind that domineering rockstar facade of leather jackets, clinking chains, gaudy jewelry, and a tight- tight pair of denim pants, yes, behind those pair of pants was a pulsating cock that was desperate to grow twice its softened size just two minutes and twenty-three seconds before he had to face Mrs. Wither’s biology class, all because Eddie Munson saw you.

Why- why on God’s green Earth would he ever choose to listen to the cracking voice of Gareth Emerson, when you were literally standing right across the hall, not even four yards away? The skirt. The fucking teeny tiny, baby pink, short skirt you decided to wear, the one Eddie was sure that if you bent forward even just a little bit, he would be flashed with the sexy crease of your fat ass cheeks meeting your doughy thighs, and he was desperate to be smothered by it. 

“…So yeah, we can’t practice at my house anymore.” Gareth lamented. That’s when he noticed the oh so obvious, blatantly clear, totally discernable trance of his friend, realizing his entire tangent just deliquesced into thin air with no acknowledgement whatsoever. Gareth slammed his locker shut. “You weren’t even listening to me!”

Eddie’s eyes finally shot away at the bleated tone of Gareth’s rightful attitude. “‘Scuse me? I totally was listening.” He hissed back, evidently not amused with the embarrassing fact that he was caught red-handed. 

“No, you weren’t.” Gareth groused, looking back to follow the ghost trail that once was Eddie’s distracted eye line, which is when he landed on you. “You were just checking out that girl.”

“That girl has a name, y’know?” Eddie retorted.

“That girl isn’t going to help us find a place to practice!” Gareth retaliated. “Stop looking for chicks to score, I’m serious.”

“Hey,” Eddie perked, as he stood straight, countering his friend, “y’know, she’s actually really smart and, like, super fucking funny-”

His friend could only incredulously scoff. “Oh, right, because you’ve totally had a conversation with her.”

“I-I’ve… stood next to her a-and have heard her talk to her friends.” Definitely not the riposte Eddie hoped to shoot out. The stuttering sure as hell didn’t help.

“Oh, so you’re a stalker.” Gareth nonchalantly derided, leaving Eddie to deadpan him. “Look, whatever, man, you can perv on girls all you want, but we have bigger issues at hand, dude. Where the hell are we supposed to practice?” Eddie’s chest ended up being victimized by the harsh poke of Gareth’s stern finger. And if he wasn’t so annoyed with his friend, he would have winced, because that actually kinda hurt a little. But just a little. Eddie’s ego wasn’t about to take a hit today. 

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Relax, alright? We’ll work our way around it.”

Truthfully, Eddie had no actual plans of working their way around it, in fact, it was quite a large issue he should have prioritized, but that could wait. Should it? No. But it would. Yes. Surely, staring at you was more of a fun game. He’d done that for the past two years he’d known of you, and he never got tired of it, I mean, how could he? One day—he always chalked up—he would get the balls to actually speak to you. You were always so nice, so sweet, skirting around the halls of Hawkins High that Eddie felt were too unworthy for your leisure, smiling and waving at any and everyone. Last Tuesday, the day you met his perverted eyes—oblivious to his hungry stares—and kindly threw him a beguiling smile as if it wasn’t the most dangerous weapon on Earth, was the day Eddie Munson skipped fourth period and jerked his aching cock in the dingy stall of the boys’ bathroom, before speeding home to fold his pillow in half and slide himself into the makeshift pussy just to fuck it with screwed shut eyes to invision the perfect image of you laying on your back with bouncing tits.

But unfortunately, that was just a dream Eddie Munson would have to deduce himself into every night, because the reality of you ever actually speaking to him was tragically low. Mostly because Eddie was scared he’d stutter and fuck up in front of you. It was embarrassingly shameful when it occurred in the comfort of his own bedroom, as he acted out what he would say to you in the mirror. You literally weren’t even there and he still tripped over his words!

But maybe the karma gods were finally aligning with his life, because he watched you happily place a “Need a Tutor?” sign on the bulletin board of the main hall, with little slips of your phone number ready to tear off and grab for anyone needing some “intimate one-on-one session time.” And, my god, was Eddie Munson anguished for that, so when the pink thumbtack stabbed your preciously designed poster into the cluttered corkboard, and you walked away with a innocent smile that was ready to help anyone in need, Eddie could hear an angel receiving its wings in the distance, as a harp played, and a choir harmonized heavenly, because his mind was stirring with the endless possibilities of raunchy and crude wet dreams. And Eddie was finally receiving a chance to dive into some pussy galore. Gross. 

“Oh, yeah, and how exactly do you plan on doing that? My drum kit can’t fit in your trailer, Grant’s grandma nearly had a heart attack the last time we practiced at his place, and Jeff’s mom still thinks it’s the “devil's music,” so what exactly is your plan here, hotshot?” Gareth scoffed.

“My plan?” Eddie chimed with a menacing smirk. “Oh, well I plan on getting tutored by my future wife.” He slyly leered, as he sauntered his away to your advertisement, Gareth following behind feeling beyond the definitions of vexation. 

“You’re actually insane, y’know that?” Gareth exhaled, as he watched Eddie eagerly tear off a slip and examine it with a prodding tongue through his lips. “This says for anyone needing a tutor in history.” Gareth pointed out. 

Eddie shrugged, as your number slipped into the back pocket of his jeans. “So?”

“You’re not even taking history!” Gareth stressed, as the bell rang to commence class. “What are you gonna do when you show up completely clueless?”

“Dude, she’s looking for idiots to tutor,” Eddie patted him on the shoulder, “she’s expecting cluelessness. And I am the perfect guy. Kay?” He triumphantly smiled. “Stop stressing, go to class. And don’t worry, I’ll send you an invitation to our wedding. Thinkin’ of making it BDSM theme.”

Gareth grimaced. 

Eddie Munson may not have caught onto the obvious insult he just hurled to himself, but that didn’t matter. Not when he had a call to make after school.

-

The ticking minutes of the afternoon couldn’t have passed by any slower, as Eddie managed to work up every excuse in the book to get his uncle, Wayne, to leave early for work: grab some lunch at Benny’s before hand, stop for some coffee at the local cafe, show up an hour early to impress the bosses—though, the bosses didn’t pay Wayne enough for him to feel the need to turn up before his scheduled shift—and soon the minutes turned into hours, and the sun would be setting soon. Eddie could feel you slipping through his grasp, as someone who probably actually needed a tutor was bound to call you before he could- or worse, some sick perv with the same bright idea as him would call you. Though Eddie Munson was adamant on the fact that none of the other guys who creeped on you could take care of you like he could.

Sure, the only experience he ever had was when the older bartender with bouncy hair offered to show the lead singer of Corroded Coffin a “special thank you,” which promptly led him to losing his virginity in the loathsome bathroom of the Hideout, which also led to a frantic eighteen-year-old Eddie anxiously running to the local health clinic for STDs testing when it dawned on him that he just had unprotected sex with a stranger during the dangerous minutes of post-nut clarity. But, Eddie Munson was still a hormonal teenager, and once the negative results cleared him from the nerve-wracking chlamydia or gonorrhea scare, he laid back and relished on the memory of having sex and, well, by the sounds of it—if his memory serves him right—she seemed to enjoy it, too. Granted, Eddie never engaged in any more of her efforts to try again because- well, he was left scarred, but all that is beyond the point. The point is Eddie Munson wanted to be the one to love on you, dote on you, make you feel so fucking good that you were programmatically addicted to him- to his cock. 

Oh, fuck, he’s hard already. 

But finally, as the clock struck six o’clock, his uncle waved him goodbye, and Eddie had ran through the numerous piles of clothes in the trailer—ones he promised to fold—and slammed into the wall phone to begin his endeavors. The crumpled slip of your phone number had been retrieved from his back pocket, and he skimmed the digits, letting his fingers dial as he read each number. It was nowhere near remotely possible, but Eddie Munson had even managed to find your phone number to be so sexy. Mm, so even and divisible. God, he was sick. But nonetheless, the phone rang and rang, and he was muttering the “c’mon, pick up, pick up” mantra to lead him one step closer to you. Communicating through a phone would surely ease his worries about potentially screwing up. He just had to take a deep breath and let the conversation flow itself. But, shit, it was ringing for far too long. You were probably already knees deep into some boring textbook with a helpless classmate, or getting flirted by Nathan Cavanugh, who Eddie once saw check you out; or you were probably cuddling up with Bryce Walters, who would always lean against your locker to sweet talk you during school; or, fuck, you could have already been getting handsy with Harrison Moran, who would always come up and hug you after a footba-

“Hello?” Oh, shit.

“Oh- I mean, uh, hi.” This wasn’t going to work. He was already slipping up. Eddie had never internally cringed so hard, his hand pragmatically slapped his forehead in disbelief, but his mouth just kept moving. “It’s, um, me.” Me?! How the fuck would you know who me is?!

“Oh, my god, hi, Eddie!” You perked with giddiness. What the fuck?

He stammered with confusion, “Wait… how’d you know it was me- like, me, Eddie?” 

“Duh, your voice, silly.” You giggled, as Eddie huffed a breathy chuckle, and leaned against the wall with a curling lip. Maybe this could work. 

“Oh, yeah? You recognize my voice, sweetie?” His lit into a teasing, sultry crisp that had you flustered on the other line. 

“Well, yeah. I mean, you’re always making quite the scene during lunch.” You delicately laughed into the receiver. “I guess it just kinda got stuck in my head, like, you know, when you hear a catchy song?”

Eddie sucked in a breath, as his hand played with the hem of his shirt to tease his sensitive naval with soft touches, and you could thoroughly hear the smirk of his grin oozing through his words. “Oh, really?” He teased rhetorically. “Yeah, no, I understand. I can happily say the same for you, sweetheart. Got such a pretty voice.”

“Oh,” you were clearly rattled, as his compliment hit you, “th-thank you, Eddie. You’re so nice.”

“Aw, well, actually, sweetheart, it’s you who’s so nice. Offering others your help with tutoring, just so sweet, aren’t ya, huh? It’s actually why I’m calling.” He smiled. “You wanna… help me out, princess?”

“Yes, I’d love to!” Your bubbly voice made it certain that you were ready to genuinely help him with his studies, and provide him with the needed lessons. It could almost make Eddie feel guilty. Almost. But his dick was thumping with eagerness, and he was containing all restraints to keep from pressing his bulge against the paneling of the wall to your sickly sweet voice, and thrusting his hips. That would be a new low. Even for him. “I’ve been waiting forever for someone to call, Eds, you don’t even understand. I was beginning to think nobody needed a tutor.” 

“Oh, no, sweet girl, I can assure you I desperately need a helping hand.” He sighed, as the rings on his finger began dancing around the protrusion of his pants, applying just a small amount of pressure. “And I’d fucking love yours.” Your innocent mind absolutely swooned at the opportunity to aid his learning, completely unbeknownst to Eddie’s perverted meaning.

“That’s great, I’d love to help you, Eddie.” You gushed, and Eddie’s teeth had to bite down onto his lip to uphold the self-control of being so desperate he was debating dry humping the wall. “Are you able to come over tonight?

“Oh, yeah, baby, I’ll definitely be coming tonight.” As soon as the call would end, Eddie Munson would drop to his knees and repent all the wrongdoings of his life, if it meant this actually working out for him. It’s doesn’t necessarily fall under the codes of Catholicism to exactly pray in front of the random “Bless this house, O Lord we pray, Make it safe by night and day” calendar with the hopes of finally having sex with his high school crush, but Eddie wasn’t exactly the type to carry around his own crucifix for an impromptu prayer, and he was truly just really fucking horny for you. And he was also smart enough to know his luck. If his life taught him anything, you would actually say that plans came up and you would be too busy to tutor him, and just like that, his opportunity would have disintegrated into dust. Now, while the possibility of that occurring was plausible, it genuinely should not have garnered him the idea to suddenly believe in divine interference and pray to a calendar that he’d get laid, but Eddie Munson did it anyway. Because you had him that fucking forlorn.  

“How does seven-thirty sound? You can come over then, does that work for you?” You were already planning the layout for your study session, when all Eddie could think about was caressing your figure.

“Absolutely.” He affirmed with a tight breath when his teeth bloodied his lip.

“Great, I’ll see you then, Eddie- oh, wait, before you go, do you like cookies? I can make us some as a snack.” God, you really were so fucking sweet.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbled under his breath, “cookies? Yeah, I like cookies, sweetheart. Can’t fucking wait to taste them.”

“Okay, good, I’ll gladly make you some!” You cheered with excitement. “I’ll see you soon!”

Attending high school for six years would surely be more than enough time to, I don’t know, memorize at least one thing about the many lessons Eddie had to endure—science, math, hell, even construction—but nothing cemented into his mind more clearly than the address you’d given him- the address he’d fuck you at… hopefully. God, he could already picture it so vividly. Your pink room of frills and silk. The room where you study. Where you sleep. Where you change. Where you lick your fingers and snake your hand under the lace of your panties to rub your pussy to the thought of being fucked- 

Oh, how the hell was he ever going to survive being in your house?

-

Eddie Munson had stared about the likes of your neighborhood for a good five minutes, finding the audacity to suddenly play undercover detective as a means of “scoping out the scene” to ensure the sanctity of his sexual endeavors. Perhaps the karma gods were desperate to get this twenty-year-old man laid—they had to be tired of the countless prayers for pussy that flooded their heavenly inbox—as Mrs. Winthrop, the forty-something-year-old lady of fancy tracksuits and shiny pearls who loved to patrol the regulations of the HOA, was, fortunately, accompanying her newlywed seventy-something-year-old husband at the City Hall’s Annual Fundraiser Banquet. Had she decided to not meddle into the world of small town aristocrats to weasel her way into her elderly husband’s will, she would have surely caught wind of Eddie Munson’s suspicious activity, and had your house flooded with flashing reds and blues as he sat in the backseat of a police car; hands in cuffs and boner in boxers. 

But Mrs. Winthrop hadn’t been home. And Eddie had deliberated the risk of a possible wandering neighbor catching a glimpse of his dubious acts, and taken it, because in doing so, he was met with the glory of an empty driveway to your home. Where a car—like the silver sedan he learned your mother drove to drop you off to school or the black truck he learned your father drove to pick you up from school—was typically parked had been abandoned to an emptiness, leaving the cemented path to your garage exposed. And peering just a little to the left, he would come face-to-face with the familiar fateful sentiment of that of an empty driveway: an empty curb.

Long gone were the risks of parental interference.

Eddie Munson was fucking you tonight. 

Your doorbell had diffused into quietness. Hidden behind the denim pockets of his jacket, his fists balled tightly, as his mind ran through the notions of how he would manifest this to occur. Worst case scenario, you’d reject his advances… possibly realize his agenda… might call him a freak… definitely a perv… probably slap him in the face, he would deserve it… you could tell the whole school… it would surely spread across town… then the torches and pitchforks would come out- yeah, okay, he should really stop overthinking right about now. But then there were the other thoughts. The thoughts- the debauched thoughts that filled his head of just you and your body completely at his mercy. Best case scenario, you’d fall into his arms… he’d shove his hot tongue down your throat- ooh, better yet, his cock… he’d certainly grope the fattiness of your ass… might tug on your nipples with his teeth… spit on your clit… fuck, then undoubtedly plunge his cock into your cunt until it was drowning in his sticky cum. There was only so much space behind the seam of his zipper before his growing dick would burst through.

The ten seconds of impending footsteps held no merit of preparation for Eddie Munson to secure the steady breath of cool, calm, and collected like he wanted to. He was supposed to up his bravado, put on that bad boy demeanor he knew to flaunt while strutting the streets of Hakwins, Indiana to ensure his character was never physically targeted by the clear disdain the town held for him. And it worked. Never once had it failed to be intimidating. In fact, that very intimidation that was going to be his reliable source of timidly scaring you tino pulling up the soft cotton of your top to flash him the bouncing volume of your boobs for him to pervertedly grab. If it had to get that far. 

But that was all too easy. 

And Eddie Munson hadn’t accounted for the fact that his breath would hitch at mere sight of you beaconing him into your humble home with a peachy “Hi, Eddie” and that sinful skirt that seemed to love your body just as much as he did from the way it clung to your dips and curves. 

“H-Hi, sweetness.” His lips hungry rolled against themselves, as his eyes raked your silhouette upon entering the foyer of your house. “I, uh, I didn’t see anyone in the driveway. C-Can I assume we’re, um, alone?” Eddie shyly smiled.

You were there to kindly answer. “Oh, yeah! My parents drove out of town to attend a familiar friend’s wedding.” See, this is where an attempt at a nice conversation could have occurred, had you not daintily secured your hands together behind your back with pristine posture. With your puffed chest, Eddie’s eyes had absentmindedly diverted to the now pebbling outline of your nipples that seemingly hardened from the draft Eddie had brought in. Heaven truly was a place on Earth- or whatever the hell that Belinda chick sang about. “I hope that’s alright.” You giggled.

“Huh…?”

“I mean, I’m definitely nowhere near as good a cook as my mom, but I made those cookies for you as a treat, and I hope you’ll like them.” You bit your lip. “But, um, if you’re still hungry, we can totally order something for dinner.”

Eddie didn’t know what was louder, the beating in his heart or his cock. Either way, it was blatantly obvious the effect you had on him, and his body was desperately lurching for yours. “Oh, yeah, no, uh, no worries. I-I, um- sorry, I’m just a bit… nervous.” He shied away with a teasing grin.

What more could be expected? Out of the kindness of your heart, your face contorted with concern. “Oh, please don’t be nervous!” You held a soft grip to his bicep, pulling him close. Hook. “I know it can be a little scary being tutored, but I promise you’re totally in control here.” And reel. “We’ll go at your pace. I’m here to help you, remember?” You’d be doting on him the whole night. 

If intimidation wasn’t going to get him to see your pussy tonight, maybe the kicked puppy act will.

A sickening smirk consumed his face, and his hand flew over his heart. “Aren’t you just the sweetest? Got the prettiest heart and face in this town, huh?”

Oh, and how that compliment had you flustering in his grace, looking away with a breaking smile of demure. Being tutored may not have been the most conventional way of getting laid, but the favor was working on his side, and Eddie was loving his ingenious idea of stealing your advertising slip. “I- well, um, thank you, Eddie.” You smiled, attempting to meet his eyes again. “You know, you’re really nice, too. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Donna.”

“Donna?” That crank with a stick up her ass, who seemingly tried to control every little thing you did? That Donna?!

Now, say all you want about the morality of following around someone you love, but don’t misconstrued things here, Eddie Munson was not a stalker. Nope. Nuh-uh. Sure, he liked to linger around you, who wouldn’t? And, while, yes, oftentimes- no, all the times, you didn’t know of his presence, but still, it wasn’t stalking. He was just learning things about you. Yeah, learning things. Learning the make and model of your parents’ vehicles. Learning your class schedule in hopes of catching glimpses of you in the hallways. Learning about your favorite subjects and what you hated. Learning the acts that guys did that made your face scrunch up with disgust. And yes, learning about Donna fucking McIntyre, who did seem to catch on to his stalking presence- no, linger presence (totally not a stalker).

In the many instances Eddie stood close enough to eavesdrop on your conversations, he’d grown quite a distaste for Donna McIntyre. Actually, it’d do no justice to deduce his hatred as “distaste.” Eddie Munson fucking hated Donna McIntyre. Listening to her speak was like shoving a knife through his eardrum. He’d only endure it if it meant hearing your honey voice and learning more about you. This particular disdain for your close friend hadn’t appeared from thin air, no, Eddie Munson had complete reasons to hate the ginger; Donna McIntyre had sensibility. Where your naivety had you blissfully unaware of Eddie’s hungry stare, Donna McIntyre had caught onto every one of his perversions. Call it bias, he didn’t care, he hated her. In hindsight, your two year friendship with her had truly saved you from some compromising situations in which creepy men bestowed themselves upon you. Donna McIntyre was there to save you. Leave no girl behind. And you loved her for it. 

Eddie Munson, on the other hand, despised her for it.

A daily routine had manifested itself between the two rivals. One where Eddie would lovingly stare at your perched breasts spewing from your low-cut top, only to accidentally make eye contact with Donna during his spare seconds of eyeing you, being met with one of the most—rightfully—disgusted stares from her. He was left scoffing every time she grappled onto your elbow and pulled you away wherever you stepped within his vicinity. 

“Yeah.” You sorely pouted. “See, she’s, like, my best friend ever, but she always says the nastiest things about you.”

“Like what?” He questioned with squinted eyes. 

“Well, I don’t want to say the mean names she calls you, but she always mentions how I need to stay away from you; something about you being bad news.” You huffed. “I mean, literally before you came here, I called her all excited that I was finally tutoring someone tonight, because it looks really good on college applications, you know? But when I told her it was you, she completely lost it, saying you were just taking advantage of me.” Fucking divine interference?!

Eddie Munson had to give it to her. She may have been a pain in the ass, but Donna McIntyre was smart.

“Uh, well, y’know, princess, some people are just downright rude.” He dejectedly suspired. “People have been pickin’ on me since I was a child, y’know? Just because I’m different.” Maybe the bruised kid was taking it a little too far, but a special place in hell was already being dedicated to Eddie Munson, with a fiery plaque being engraved with the devil’s sharp talon, so did he care? No. Not when his sob story had you jumping to console him with a sympathizing hug, one where your tits squished against his chest, and he reveled in the feeling of your poking nipples brushing against his body. 

A more than content hum groaned out of Eddie’s mouth, as he wrapped you close, and inhaled a waft of your perfect smell. “I’m so sorry, Eds.” Your heart of gold oozed out with all sadness for him.

“It’s okay, baby-”

“No, it’s not.” You pulled back to pout at him. “People shouldn’t treat you like that. It’s mean. People shouldn’t be mean to you.” Eddie cooed, copying your protruding lips, and sighed happily at your word of action. “You have me as a friend now! And I promise that I’ll never be mean to you. I just want to be nice to you. All the time, be nice to you.”

There’s no way you couldn’t feel his boner pressing into your tummy. “Aw, precious, I’d really like that. You’ll be nice to me? Do anything for me? Make me feel good?”

The quickness to your fervent nod had a sickening grin formulating on Eddie’s expression. “Yes, of course! Always, that’s what friends do.” You smiled. In a flash, you acted on impulse and pressed your lips to his cheek, where your gloss had marked his skin and burned his body. Witnessing you shyly smile at him afterwards had his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. “I just wanna help you out.” You whispered.

“You can definitely help me, princess.” He spoke in hushed tones. “Y’know how you can help me?” His face gravitated to yours, target of interest aiming for your lips.

And you looked at him with those innocent, round eyes. “Tutoring you!” You beamed, like you just answered the million dollar question on a game show- well, not Eddie’s preferred game show.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat with a forced laugh to keep you smiling, “yes, of course, sweetheart, tutoring me. That’s the only reason I came here, anyway.” He internally perished. 

You squealed in excitement, jumping from the giddiness of being helpful. “Yay!” You beamed, forcing Eddie to follow suit, his faux enthusiasm compelling him to swallow thickly in order to constrain the blood back to his brain if he was going to sit through a tutoring lesson before seeing your ass in whatever baby pink thong he pictured you wearing. You laced your hand within his—being his only saving grace for enduring schoolwork after hours—and tugged him into the coziness of your living room. “So, are you taking American History or World History?”

“Uh…” Two years ago, Wayne Munson urged his nephew to exercise his newfound 26th Amendment Right to vote at the ripe age of eighteen for the 1984 Presidential Election. Granted, not so much newfound, given that Eddie was still falling off of monkey bars when protests about the monstrosity of what was going on Vietnam managed to lower the voting age; but nonetheless, Eddie had gotten severely tired of being bombarded by Reagan signs that infested every neighborhood street he drove past, enabling him to proudly wear Hawkins’ very own rendition of the ‘I Voted’ sticker. Though, the excitement was short lived, when the Munsons gruffed in disappointment watching Ronald Reagan win his reelection and haunt their lives for another four years to come. Eddie Munson didn’t know what the hell was going on with the world fifty years ago, but the CBS Morning News was raving about the wave of the conservative movement, talks of Gorbachev meeting Reagan was happening, something called the internet was kinda freaking him out, and Eddie Munson voted, so how’s that for American history for you? 

“American- yeah, yeah, American History.” 

“Perfect!” He followed your movements, and joined you on the couch, textbooks and cookies laid out in uniform perfection against the wood of your coffee table. Just for him. “With Mr. Conklin? Or Mendez?”

“Mendez.” At least, he did when he was still a junior and vandalizing the back desk with engravings of immature pornographic sketches. 

“Oh! Donna’s also in that class.” Eye fucking roll. “She told me about that killer quiz you guys had today. Said something about how none of the questions were on the study guide that Mr. Mendez gave to y’all.”

Eddie drawed out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah.” He lied right through his teeth. “I-It’s why I came to you, sweetheart! I completely flunked that quiz, and- well, then, you- you were just like this angel sent from heaven, offering your help.” He grinned watching you heat up from his heavy stare. “Just meant to be, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Your nerves flustered, as your teeth bit into your lip. “I’m happy to help you, Eds. Anytime you need.” You could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Um, did you, uh, bring your books?” Actually getting a good look at him, Eddie hadn’t brought anything. At all. “Or, um, at least… some notes?”

A whistle of slow realization escaped Eddie’s mouth. “Uh… oh, y’know what happened? See, I was just spiraling from the quiz, a-and then I got so nervous for our tutoring lesson that, y’know, it just completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry, princess.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay.” A sweet reassurance came from your part. “We can just share my book.” You patted the distant space of cushion between you two, one which Eddie gladly took up.

And, my god, was he happy he did, because thighs touching thighs, scents mixing with scents, body pressed against body, and one look down, Eddie was exposed to the glory of low-cut shirts, and your tits presented themselves so beautifully to his eyesight. But a worn textbook weighing the size of a fat dog had slammed into his lap, and suddenly his eyes were tainted by the image of an old, white man who surely didn’t arouse him like the picture of your boobs.

“Great… Thomas Jefferson.” A tight-lipped smile concealed his dismay.

“Uh,” your shy giggle captivated his attention, “no, Eddie, that’s actually James Monroe.”

“Psh.” He puffed his cheeks, nonchalantly waving his hand in the air to brush off his blatant error of mistake. “Right. Totally knew that, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay if you didn’t.” You smiled. “I’m here to help you, remember?” 

“Mhm.” His arm circled around your shoulders, letting your rest back in the comfortable bliss of soft cushions and his presence. He hummed seeing you tuck within yourself, thighs pressing into one another, and he could only imagine what you were trying to relieve. Because Eddie Munson had made you feel things. The sweet tingles you would get when you were alone at night and had all the time to yourself. When you would visualize what it would be like to have a boy like you, enough to want to be your boyfriend, and what you two would get up to. Lacey Fisher, four weeks ago, returned from her weekend birthday trip, and confided in you on how her boyfriend, Henry Aronofsky, took her virginity. She detailed to your curious mind that it had hurt. The initial intrusion, it stung. But then he kept going. And it started to feel good. But what was even better was the closeness. His body on hers. His lips on hers. 

You craved that. And having Eddie’s domineering heat radiate on your skin had your pussy pulsating with a thumping tingle that you didn’t know what to do with. Eddie was cute. Cuter than Nathan Cavanugh, Bryce Walters, or Harrison Moran. Eddie Munson had an edge that made you question why your cotton underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet under his stare. How could Donna McIntyre not like him? He was scarily hot. 

“W-What,” You cleared your throat, “what, um, period are you guys on… in Mr. Mendez’s class?”

Shit. “Uh…”

“It was period four, no?” You opened the textbook on his lap, flipping the silk pages to thumb through the chapters. “Donna had mentioned it, said she wanted me to help her study this weekend.”

Thank god for Donna McIntyre’s big ass mouth. Even if it did shit-talk him. “Yeah, yeah, period four, mhm.”

“Okay, so lucky for you, we will be talking about Thomas Jefferson today.” You chuckled. “Period four spans from 1800 to 1848, which will cover different aspects like the developmental growth of political parties as a result from the expansion of suffrage, and definitive aspects of American culture expounded by the Era of Good Feelings…”

Fuck me.

-

Eddie Munson sat through forty-seven minutes of the Jeffersonian Era, listening of the profoundness of the Revolution of 1800s, and America’s god given right to expansion and the manifest destiny- or whatever bullshit propaganda that damn textbook pounded out to high schoolers just to get to some pussy. But if the United States could gain the delusional superiority complex to conquer and prosper on westward, Eddie Munson could do the same- well, on you. This was just one obstacle. One hurdle. One step closer to obtaining his holy grail of getting his dream girl. Shoving a dozen of the triple chocolate chunk cookies you’d baked him was enough to get him through the painful lecture of the demise of the Federalist Party, though, the events of the Mexican-American War was interesting enough to get him into cheering on Mexican troops over Texan volunteers during the Battle of the Alamo, but enough was enough.

“…With the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the U.S was able to gain the southwest territory, which would include New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, and California, but Mr. Mendez likes specifics, so also be sure to remember we gained the majority of Arizona and Colorado, which bled into parts of Kansas, Wyoming, and Oklahoma.” You huffed in one breath. “Oh! And recall the Monroe Doctrine! Given that we had now warned European countries of the potential threats that would happen if they continued to colonize the western hemisphere, the American win over Mexico had further cemented the U.S as growing world power, which gets into the promotion of democracy and isolationism, which we can get into next-”

“Okay, sweetheart, stop right there.” Eddie scrunched his eyes in agony, cutting you off from proffering anymore mush that was stirring in his already confused brain. “Sorry, uh- sorry, but, like, can we take a break?” He sighed.

“Oh.” Embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sometimes I can get too much into things, we can totally take a break or, um, call it a day if you’d like-”

“No, no, no, no.” He adamantly interjected, closing the textbook with crumpled notes of his compulsory—upon your request—chicken scratch handwriting, brandishing it away next to the crumb-filled platter that once was delicious baked goods. “No, baby, trust me, I don’t want the night to end.” He delicately nudged your chin with his finger, a teasing smile to pair. “I just got a little headache, s’all.”

“Well, are you sure you don’t want to leave to get some rest?” Your brows molded with concern. “We can pick this up tomorrow, or whenever you’re free.”

Eddie Munson played into his bluster of confidence, leaning in close to run a rough-tipped finger down the dough of your thigh, letting your skin wake and react to his heated touch. “What if I wanna rest here with you?” He whispered. “Have you take care of me?”

You gulped. “Um, l-like what?” You nervously giggled. “I can, like, make you soup for-for your headache.” 

“Well, I was thinking more like we can lay down.” He pouted to emphasize his pained facade. “Will you take care of me in bed, baby?”

You licked your lips timidly. “Um, I-I don’t really know if that’s, like, a-appropriate for, um, study sessions. Like, I don’t want you to think I brought you here under the guise of doing… stuff.”

“You can say it, princess.” He smiled. “Say it. You didn’t bring me here to have sex.”

Hearing Eddie’s sultry voice whisper the word had sparked up the special tingles nestled between your thighs, and he could see the sensation consuming your being. “Um, y-yeah. I didn’t bring you here to h-have sex.” Heart racing, you could barely gain the courage to force your eyes upon him. “That’s what, um, Harrison thought when I offered to tutor him.”

“Aw, no, I know, pretty girl.” He cooed, as he firm hand squeezed down on your thigh, pressing the hem of your skirt high. Your sunken teeth had become your only extenuative from letting out a squeal from the jolting sensation. “God, those morons are just dicks. Don’t appreciate how good of a tutor you are. How much of a good girl you are. Right, baby? You’re just such a good girl looking to help, huh?”

You nodded to confirm his sentiment. “Yes, Eddie.”

His hand creeped to separate yours, where they stayed tightly clasped within one another, and he rubbed his fingers against the softness of your warm palm, before confining your hand with his. “Why don’t we go to your room to just relax for a bit, sweetheart? You smell so good, bet your room smells just like you. I love it so much.” 

“Uh…”

“It’ll make me feel so much better, princess.” He cajoled. “C’mon, that’s what friends do, right? You said it yourself, sweetheart.” 

“And then we’ll study again?” You eyed him with a twinkle in your eyes. 

“Man, you really like history, huh?” He teased with a chuckle. 

“Of course!” You happily answered, which had him smiling at your enthused face that glowed giddily. “Why wouldn’t I like something I’m good at?” Spoken with all the confidence. 

Eddie softly laughed in admiration. “You’re so cute.” He gave your thigh another tender squeeze. “Why don’t we do this: you make me feel good, like friends do, and I promise to make you feel extra good?” He stuck out a promising pinky, as he watched you consider his all too innocent proposition. “I’ll make you feel so good, precious.” He whispered. 

“Just relaxing? A small break?”

“Mhm.” He smirked. Fairly ambiguous; not necessarily a lie if not clearly verbalized. But just enough to get you alone in your bedroom. Pinky promised. 

Hands held together, you guided Eddie Munson through the halls of your house to reach your beloved bedroom, where secrecy and intimacy laid between the silks and cottons of your sheets. Each step had Eddie’s dick thumping with excitement, just as anticipated as his heartbeat racing out of his chest. You had never had a boy in your room. In fact, this would have to go untold to the authority of your mother and father, too archaic to understand the innocence of it all. Because that’s all it was. Right? Helping a friend in need to aid him to recovery. Headaches can be killer. Mrs. Weber's fourth period chemistry class often had you succumbed with migraines. Science wasn’t like history. As how Eddie Munson wasn’t like Harrison Moran. He wouldn’t do you as the star quarterback tried with you. Because Eddie Munson was different. Nothing like Donna McIntyre tried to get you to believe. He was different. Right?

“We can just relax here for a bit.” You spoke, as you both entered the confines of your room.

The essence of your own personal girlhood defined the sacred space of your room. Where clean, white walls brightened the mood, personal pictures and feminine posters had livened it up. Sweetness had invaded Eddie’s nose, as he was surely met with the arousing smell of your perfume, predicted to the exact notion. Gold jewelry, the one that complemented your skin beautifully, where dainty necklaces would become suffocated in the valley of your tits, where shiny earrings would decorate your earlobes that Eddie wanted to mouth on, had displayed themselves neatly amongst the products of beauty and self care. Pinks and silks, frills and lace, embodying your sweetness to a T. Effeminate in all aspects of nature.

And Eddie Munson was ready to defile everything. 

Unabashedly, Eddie had breached beyond the realms of a visitor’s right, and taken advantage of the whole ‘make yourself at home’ sentiment that you had actually never spoken; nonetheless, he’d marched his way to your comforting bed occupied by a number of stuffed animals that unfairly got the privilege of seeing you in your most intimate times. 

He splayed himself on the expanse of cushions, a groan leaving his mouth as he relished in the feeling of a bed that wasn’t stabbing of springs, starfishing the expanse that left you giggling on the sideline. “What’re you laughin’ at, you little punk?” He perked. 

“Don’t be mean.” You laughed, watching him grab onto one of the many companions that inhabited your bed. 

“Mm, I think I’m deserving of pokin’ a little fun at someone who owns like fifty stuffed animals.” He smirked, as he beckoned you with a curling finger. 

Given his limbs had almost entirely taken up the breadth of your bed, you were left to sit back on your heels, posture pristine as ever, with your hands neatly kept on the safety of your thighs. Such a sight for sore eyes. Brazen without a care, he hungrily eyed you top to bottom. Bitten lips to round boobs to soft waist to expanding hips. Your revealing skirt inching away and away, giving him a sneak peak to his next meal. 

But while his stares lingered on your body, yours had unintentionally followed suit. Laid flat, the apparent bulge beneath worn denim did not hold merit to the art of concealment, and a quiet gasp left your mouth as you scolded yourself for even peering at your newfound friend like that. “N-Not fifty.” You sternly stated with a smile to get your head straight. “Just four.”

“Still a lot.” He said, investigating the furriness of a chubby bumblebee, one where pink and white instead took over the naturally occurring black and yellow.

“Oh.” His comment had suddenly hit you in a way that made you shame with embarrassment. Unbeknownst to him, of course, he was still finding amusement in the flappy wings of the plushy insect. “Um, d-do you think it’s, like, childish? N-Not mature?” You scratched the back of your neck. Perhaps it was the attachment to the juvenile interest—referred to as by Montgomery Davis, a former love interest that didn’t last too long—that prohibited you from finding an adequate boy to be with.

He had chuckled at the fat stinger. There’s no way that could impale someone. But he had heard the apprehension in your voice, peering up from your stuffed animal to see your more than disappointed face. “Oh, no, baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly forwent Bugsbee the Bee to the side, as a calloused hand landed on your knee for reassurance. Sitting up, Eddie Munson overstepped the boundaries of a tutee to whisper his hot breath against your lips. “I fuckin’ love ‘em. So cute, babe. Just like you.”

“Really?” Your dough eyes scanned his face.

“Would I ever lie to you, sweetheart?” He pinched your cheek. “That’s just not what friends do.” He smiled, as he laid back down. “So, is that what you like to do for fun? Get stuffed animals?”

“Um, not necessarily.” You beamed. “I just like having them around, you know? Keep me company for the things I do like to do.”

“Like what, baby?” He squeezed your knee. “Tell me all that you like doing.”

“Well, let's see, oh, uh, I love journaling. Like, writing my feelings down.” He nodded along, prodding as encouragement for further information. “Uh, typically it started out just in the morning, like, when I wake up, I’d write about what I’d like to accomplish for the day. But then, I kinda realized it’d be nice to vent after a long day, so now, I really just do it whenever.” You shrugged. 

Boys didn’t care about this stuff, but Eddie Munson asked questions. “Yeah?" He grinned. “That sounds nice, baby. Feels like some therapy shit I need.” He chuckled. “Does it make you feel good to write about your feelings?”

“Yeah!” You happily answered. “Um, sometimes it's hard to talk about what I’m feeling to my friends. Like, Donna, for example; she’s got her whole life planned out, she’s so smart. If it’s hard for me to understand what I’m feeling, then I know Donna won’t. I’m scared she’ll judge me.”

“Donna’s a bitch.” He gruffed, with a groan of disdain. 

“No, don’t say that, that’s mean.” You chastised him. “She’s my friend, Eddie.”

“Right, right, sorry, baby.” He quickly made up for it. “It’s just hard to get along with her, s’all. But, uh, this journaling… what kinda feelings do you write about? Like, uh, I don’t know, private ones? You can tell me, honey.”

You nervously laughed, squirming in the seated position of being on your calves. “Y-Yeah, like, uh, well sometimes I worry that I won’t ever get, like, a real boyfriend. Like, a serious relationship. Not like whatever gross hookup the boys at our school want. I don’t want that.”

Eddie caressed the skin of your leg. “Totally, babe. Don’t waste your time with the little boys at our school. You need a real man, huh? Someone who’s gonna take care of their pretty girl.” He smirked, as you nodded in agreement.

Your heart lumped out of your chest, as you followed the languid movements of his large hand encapsulating your bent knee. His touch felt fiery against your skin, creating a series of goosebumps in his guided path, like a mark of territory. Your thighs, once again, clenched at his mercy. Seeing the prominent blue veins reveal themselves from under his alabaster skin had you striked with a familiar heated tingle. The tingles you’d have to satiate alone at night. “You think I can find someone like that?” You softly asked with all vulnerability. 

Eddie snaked his hand upward to gently hold one of yours. “Ugh, absolutely, princess, are you crazy? Sexiest and sweetest thing in the world, remember I told you? I meant it, baby. Sometimes you just gotta look right in front of you.” He smugly smiled. Your mouth went dry, as you attempted to ease your flustered smile. “Just like me, I need a princess to take care of.”

“Mhm, you deserve someone nice, Eddie.” 

“But, uh, I also need someone who’s not gonna judge me.” He perfected a pout that had you sympathizing at his feet. “Y’know, like I said before, some people are just so mean, wouldn’t understand me. Would you judge me, princess?”

“Oh, no! Never, Eddie! Solemnly, I understand the feeling, I’d never do that to you.” You preached with such vehemence, it had Eddie’s blood pooling to the length of his dick with a sickening smile eating his face. 

“So, you wouldn’t judge me if I told you what I like to do for fun, baby?” He played with your fingers, an act of innocence that had your heart soaring. 

“Nuh-uh.” You affirmed with a shake of your head. “You can tell me.” You delicately approached. 

“Well, sweetheart, I really really love touching myself.” He whispered, reveling in the sensation of your hand automatically squeezing his in a tightening hold, eyes rounding in surprise. “I do it all the time, sweetheart.”

“Oh.” Flustered beyond recognition, the single word had become the only thing trusted to speak, as his admission had ignited millions of sparkling tingles, letting a gush of wetness uncomfortably soak your precious underwear. 

He sneered with delight in power. “You’re not judgin’ me, are ya, baby?”

“No, no!” You rushed out. “I, uh- it’s totally n-normal… um, doing that. People- everyone does it.”

“Yeah?” He piqued with interest, watching you unfold into his ingenious trap. “You do it, too, princess?”

Your cheeks were invaded by hot blood, tainting your face with humiliation at the thought of giving up such intimate information. But he was your friend. You didn’t want him to feel judged. And lying was awful. Taught by the man, himself, Honest Abe. Great, and now history was being brought up again! It felt as if the devil had blown his burning breath to flame your face with embarrassment, but the devil was enticing, inching you to the darkside, where you’d be gifted with the persuasion of pure hedonism for the rest of your life. Eddie Munson was the devil. Materialized in the most euphoric way possible. 

You were wriggling, letting spiking friction torment your pussy under his glare. He was waiting. “Um, y-yeah, Eddie. I-I do it. Sometimes.”

An airy groan left his mouth, one he didn’t obscure, simply letting it out for you to witness. “Mm, I knew you would. Pretty girls like you love to touch themselves.” Holding his hand seemed to be the only form of comfort to enduring his gross words. You didn’t want to let go. “Love rubbing your pussy, don’t you baby?”

You didn’t like that word. But words deemed filthy by your definition only seemed to burn you coming from the mouth of Eddie Munson, himself. Harrison Moran once said he’d like to see your pussy. It made you scowl in disgust, and kick him out. But Eddie Munson had you enamored. 

“Yeah.” You whispered bluntly, feeling that his trust could leave you to softly speak with no repercussion. 

“Tell me, sweetheart, with your fingers?” He embraced your hand. “You play with your pussy with your fingers, put ‘em inside to fuck yourself?” Before you could reason, your head had taken the liberty to shake itself for you. No. Eddie’s brow lifted in confusion. Not to define you by the shyness of your nature, but you hadn’t necessarily struck the pervert, himself, as a user of sex toys. Well, at least, he hoped not. Something about introducing you to the world of vibrators and dildos made his cock jump with joy. “You don’t finger yourself? 

“Hands are too small.” You meekly answered, so lightly he could barely hear it.

“What do you do then, baby?”

Perhaps the alchemy of wizardry and spell casting from his beloved hobby of Dungeons and Dragons had magically manifested itself into his current reality—at the very least, it felt as though it had—as Eddie Munson’s words had you reeling in a sudden candid behavior too unfamiliar to your prospective nature. Not to say fibbery came as an innate trait for you, in fact, you honored yourself in the frankness of your words. 

But you had never acted on impulsion. 

And it felt as though Eddie’s provocative language had you destined at his mercy, forcing your body to act with no regards. There was no thinking under his gaze. No hesitation. For the briefest second of quickness, your eyes had landed in the ivory plush of an adorably stuffed bunny sat just three inches away from his shoulder, that had answered his ribald question. 

Your cheeks had ablazened when his quick eye followed your glance that lingered in the air. The corner of his lip had disgustingly peaked into a diabolical smirk, as his perverted mind exploded at the revelation. “Aw, sweetheart.” He groaned, a curious hand reaching out for your bunny.

“No, Eddie!” You tried to jeopardize his movements with urgency. “D-Don’t touch it, it’s not-”

“What is it, sweetheart?” He picked up the bunny, despite your protests. Eddie examined the cute stuffy, his perverted reflection shining back at him through the glassy, round eyes that mimicked your humiliated ones. “Shit, princess, you rub your pretty pussy on your bunny, hm? Does humping your stuffed animal feel better than fucking your fingers inside your cunt?”

“Eddie.” You whined with embarrassment, so shamefaced, dropping your head in your hands to conceal your burning expression. 

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He smiled, loving the twisted feeling of having his dick pulsate at your sheepish state. Eddie pried your hands away, revealing your timid face to him. “Remember, baby, I’m not judgin’ you, I just wanna know. Friends, they tell each other everything and help one another out, you gotta tell me, baby.” With a single hand gripping both your wrists tightly, you refused to look him in the eye, fear consuming you at the thought of Eddie Munson finding you gross for your actions. A wave of tears were threatening your eyes, and you hoped peering at the organized clutter of your nightstand would be enough to withstand the mortifying experience of crying after having him learn what you did. 

“You’re gonna make fun of me.” Your trembling lip managed to mutter out. 

“Aw, no, baby, I would never.” He turned your chin to force you to face him. “Honestly, sweetheart, thinkin’ of you doing that is so sexy.” He groaned with a bite to his lip. “God, picturing you humping your little stuffed animal has me feeling a little hot, see.” His hand deserted your face to rake over his pronouncing bulge, that seemed larger than before. “Mm, got me so worked up, baby. This is all your fault.” He moaned, squeezing his cock with a heavy hand.

Your mouth had opened at the sight of him touching himself over his pants. Those funny tingles had bursted between your thighs, and so insecurely, you questioned him. “Really?”

“Ugh, absolutely, babe.” He returned to your bunny, laying back to play with the small arms of your teddy, as his hand remained stationed on his boner, massaging his erection with breathy grunts leaving his mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” While attempting to ease your emotional nerves, Eddie had taken a good look at your bunny, the evidence of your usage being found in the matted fur surrounding the pink nose of your innocent companion. “Shit, did you fuck yourself this morning, baby?”

“That’s why I didn’t want you to touch it!” You dreaded. “I promise I’ll clean it, give it here-”

A loud gasp left your mouth, as Eddie rejected your request, bringing your stuffed bunny nose to nose, inhaling a waft of the lingering scent of your pussy. His eyes closed in ecstasy, moaning loudly as your raw smell invaded his being, rubbing the tent in his pants harshly for any form of relief. “Fuck, baby, you smell so good. I gotta touch myself.” He flung your precious stuffed animal back, in reach for his belt, cursing under his breath as his abrasive movements momentarily caused the leather to tighten when needing to be off. 

“W-What?” Your brows jumped to crease your forehead. 

“I can’t help it, baby, you’ve got me so fucking hard right now.” Eddie tugged opened his belt, rushing to undo the brass button of his pants. “Fuck, you’re not gonna judge me, right? That’s not what friends do. In fact, friends help each other out. Especially when they’re as sexy as you, baby.”

Swollen to a girth of thickness, Eddie’s cock smacked out with eagerness to fuck, and his precum oozed out, as he watched your face morph into surprise at seeing the first cock in your life. His ringed hand wrapped around himself, cursing under his breath as he felt the jolts of pleasure crash over him. “I touch myself like this, baby, fuck.” He squeezed the head of his cock, smearing his precum down to his base. “Do it so much to you, god, fuck me, princess, I think about you all the time. Can’t stop myself from jerking off at the thought of your pretty, little face.” Eddie whined. 

Your lips stayed stationed agape from the divulgence and sight of what was occurring in front of you. You hadn’t even prospered the fact that your body was reacting more candidly than your mind had anticipated, and Eddie nearly blew his load watching your thighs swish against one another to relieve your arousal. “Y-You think about me?” You delicately spoke. 

“Of course, fuck, fucking look at yourself, mm.” He tightened his grip. “Shit, baby, are you feeling horny, too? Is lookin’ at me making you wanna rub that fucking pussy?”

“U-Um, I-I don’t know.” Nervous eyes attempt to look around for anything that wasn’t Eddie Munson masturbating in your bed. “I-I don’t wanna do anything… anything bad. I don’t wanna get in trouble, Eds.”

“No, no, baby, it’s not bad, it’s good- so fucking good.” He sucked in his breath, as his hand picked up the pace. “Fuck, you’ll feel so good, darlin’- let me make you feel good, princess.” Eddie heaved, inching his large hand up your thigh until his fingers brushed your risened skirt. “Don’t tell anyone, and we won’t get in trouble.”

You watched with heavy pants, as Eddie’s strength managed to dig his fingers into the fat of your inner thigh to part them, and reveal those drenched baby pink panties he so perfectly predicted in the filth hive of his mind. “L-Like this- um, Eddie I’ve never done this with someone else, I-I don’t what to do-”

“Shh, shh.” He demanded, saving your breath from a wrecking tirade of being inexperienced. “Just let me touch you like good friends do.” His fingertips skimmed the puddle in your panties, causing an unwarranted squeal to escape your mouth, as you bucked your hips into his touch. “Oh, my-”

“Mm, Eds, you’re making me feel funny!” You attempted to close your legs, but his hand was quick to lightly slap your thigh in refusal. 

“Don’t fucking close your legs, fuck, just let me touch you.” His grip held you exposed to him, and he was aggressive with the way the pad of thumb smushed against your covered clit, forcing you to ball your sheets into your tightening fists. 

A guttural moan was ripped from you, as his thumb worked intricately to circle your clit, letting your hips ride his fingers. “E-Eddie!”

“That’s right, just hump my fucking hand, baby.” He whined, as he continued to jerk his cock, until his hips were following in sync with yours; his pivoting to thrust into his hand, yours grinding in desperate need for release. “Shit, touch me like I’m touching you- fuck, put your hands on me.”

Eddie’s slick hand grappled onto your wrist, pulling your resisting fist from your balled blanket onto his dick, where he maneuvered your fingers to wrap around his girth and mimic the strokes he once gave himself. A surge of wetness gushed at your given ability to elicit a deep groan from Eddie Munson. Seeing him react to your touch as such spurred a wave of confidence to continue your ministration, tightening your grip around his dick and providing him the languid movements that had his heavy sack pulsating with a need to cum. 

But Eddie Munson’s ego was growing expeditiously. 

And he wasn’t about to be putty in your hands- your oh so tiny, soft hands that gripped him like a vice and made him to want to fuck it for an eternity. No. Not when his hand was cupping your hot pussy, fingers becoming moist through your wet underwear, as they dug between your lips to rub that sensitive little clit and had you whimpering at his command. 

“Fuck, stand up, princess.” He shoved your hand off his cock, simultaneously choosing to regrettably tear his away from the warmth of your cunt.

Whining in despair, you stuttered. “W-What? Why?”

“Because,” Eddie positioned himself to the edge of bed, grabbing your hand to guide onto wobbly feets, pins and needles pricking your legs as they woken from their previous position, “I’m gonna put my cock between your pretty, little lips.” 

Manspreading, his thighs parted for your residence, Eddie’s penis burning red with desire, as it hung heavy against his abdomen, each protruding vein slimed with a coat of his precum. His hands rested on your hips, and he smirked as he took in the sight of your body, one he desired so much to just touch and violate for his pleasure. The blatantly obvious was shown in your face; your undivided attention had primarily focused on his dick, and he couldn’t help the chuckle of egotism that erupted from his chest, as he smoothed down the bumps and curves of your body. 

“Aw, you like looking at my cock, princess?” He sneered with a drenching voice of condescendment that had your head snapping with embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“No, no, baby, don’t be.” Eddie’s focus began shifting to the hem of your shirt, teasing it up to reveal the soft navel of your belly.  “It’s all yours to look at. Just like your pussy is all mine.” He bit his lip. “Especially when I fuck my cock inside of you, hm, you gonna let me, baby?”

That had your chest heaving with bursts of nerves, both good and bad. To know Eddie wanted that closeness with you was profoundly what had your heart fluttering with the idea of him loving you to a committed relationship. One where he was a boy calling you his girlfriend, and you were a girl calling him your boyfriend. But Lacey Fisher’s words had suddenly begun playing in your head like a record on loop. “It hurt.”

And Eddie Munson’s cock was pulsating at a length in which both of your hands had to wrap around his girth just to mount it. 

“Um, I-I don’t, uh- Eddie I’ve never done that b-before… I want you, like, to be my boyfriend, right? Like, this is what boyfriend-girlfriends do? B-But maybe I should wait- or we should… as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

There was a little hint in your voice. The way you suggested your ending in a lighter octave, fear that Eddie didn’t want to be your boyfriend, that he’d be just like Harrison Moran. But Eddie Munson wasn’t Harrison Moran, and his smile lit up at the timidness of your stature.

His dream girl. 

“I get to be your boyfriend, baby?” He leaned in to press a tender kiss upon your thigh. 

A shy smile corrupted your face, as you nodded to his question. “Mhm! Is it okay if we kiss like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

He chuckled at your cuteness, squeezing the meat of your legs in frustration at the overload he was feeling for you. “Of course, princess, c’mere.” Bending slightly at the waist, Eddie took the liberty of enduring most of the labor of stretching as far as he could until his lips crashed upon yours. Your mouth just as sweet as your being, Eddie moaned at the moisturizing sensation of the vanilla strawberry lip gloss that conjoined you together. His hands were aggressive to suddenly keep your cheeks in place, forbidding you to leave his mouth until he was ready to let go. It’s why you squealed when learning Eddie had no shame being the messy kisser he was; pushing his tongue between your lips, clashing teeth with teeth, consuming your mouth, and plunging an obscene amount of spit to your tongue, as his ravished in exploration. “Mm, fuck, love kissing you.” His delirious voice murmured against your lips. “Remember, honey,” he finished you off with one more peck, “you can’t tell Donna and friends about this. Not about how we got together, okay?” Eddie stroked your face. “They wouldn’t understand, only say mean things about you and me.”

“Okay.” You quietly agreed, wanting to protect your boyfriend from the harsh words Donna would possibly say. How could she pull you away under the guise of protection, when Eddie Munson’s been nothing but sweet to you? What was she seeing that you weren’t? Surely, you always kept your mouth closed, deciding against your sour opinion of Tucker Walsh, who Donna had on-and-off dated for months. 

“Yeah, you’ll be a good girl and won’t tell anyone?” He cooed, stroking your face. 

“Uh-huh.” You gently beamed, seeing his eyes scan your face with proudness. 

“Perfect.” Eddie pecked your nose. “Now, c’mon, sweetie, don’t you wanna show your boyfriend your tits? Always dreamed of seeing ‘em.” Untrustworthy of your awkward movements, you had let Eddie take the reins, simply standing straight to have him, once again, persist the labor of handling you to undress in front of him. His fingers tickled your sides, as they grappled with your shirt to pull it over your head, and spring your tits from the confinements of the tight material. Eddie dramatically sucked in his breath upon sight, mumbling swears because your nipples had hardened from the chill air. “So fucking pretty- fucking beautiful, sweet girl.” He groaned, taking advantage of your topless self, and having a squeeze at your boobs.

“Y-You think I’m beautiful?” You whimpered, loving the beguiling feeling of his callouses scraping your tits, only to pull and pinch at your sensitive nipples. 

“So fucking beautiful.” Eddie was quick to answer, placing a kiss to your belly button, which had butterflies fluttering in your stomach, making you swoon over your kind boyfriend. Boyfriend. “Most gorgeous fucking girl I’ve ever seen. Just wanna be with you so bad- always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”

“You are with me… now.” You giggled, which had him grinning salaciously. 

“Yeah, I am, huh?” He hand traveled down to your skirt, playing with the soft fabric. “Got the prettiest girl in school at my hands, I’m so fucking lucky.” He teased his way to the hem of your underwear, teetering between gently pulling them down, only to secure them back in place just to have your squirming with want. “I want you to do somethin’ for me, baby, okay? Just wanna see you out of these cute, little panties, but, honey, turn around and do it.”

Ready to please him, you obliged, turning your backside to him, leaving you to look back and watch him sit back to enjoy the incoming show, as his hand wrapped around his cock and, once again, began his slow strokes. “Like this?”

“Mhm.” He breathily sighed. “Just bend over real deep, princess, so I can see up your skirt, and I wanna- fuck, I wanna see you take off your panties just like that, shit.” 

Eddie Munson was a little weird. 

But maybe that’s what makes your boyfriend so interesting. Getting to know him will be fun. But for right now, you’d do as he says. The idea of making him happy made your heart flutter with joy, as a little voice in your head spoke to you that Eddie Munson was there to make you happy, as well. Bending forward, your skirt had completely risen, exposing your ass to him and that darkened spot in your panties waving at him as a tempting testament to how horny he was making you feel. 

“God, what a fucking ass.” Eddie grunted, spurring his hips to fuck up into his hand. “Go ahead and take those panties off, baby, show me what’s waiting for me.”

Grabbing the lace of your underwear, you tugged down the cotton, fighting the bit of resistance from when Eddie’s fingers buried your panties between the lips of your pussy. But they peeled off, showing him strings of sticky wetness that clung to the gusset and glistened your cunt. Eddie had to immediately stop touching himself, almost shooting his cum out from the sight of your puffed pussy lips squished between your thighs. As your panties teased down your legs, pooling at your ankles, you were startled from the abrupt groping from your boyfriend, feeling him grab handfuls of your cheeks that kept you spread wide, as you stood straight. 

“Eddie!” You shrieked into small laughter.

“Oh, my god, you’re gonna fucking kill, baby, fuck, look at you- this ass, look at this fucking wet pussy.” He kneaded the dough of your butt, before placing a stinging spank to watch the fat jiggle from his heavy hand. 

“Ow, Eddie!” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He was quick to land delicate kisses to the burning area, as the incriminating hand ran over your skin to soothe you. “Just can’t fucking help it.” Securing your hips, Eddie turned you around until your pretty face was smiling down at him, letting his cock twitch with all love and adoration for you. 

“What now?” He loved your curiosity. Getting to corrupt your innocent mind into wanting more, until you were his eager slut, begging to shove his cock into all your holes until you were leaking his cum. 

“Now,” he smiled, reaching behind him to bring forth your plushie bunny, one tainted with your cum and it had his dick jumping for joy, “you’re gonna show me how you fuck your little bunny, baby.” You swallowed thickly at his request, a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you at the request of showing Eddie something so carnal. But he was your boyfriend. And you could find trust in your boyfriend to make you feel good. “But I also need you to work that little mouth around my cock, honey. Can you do that? Suck it for me?”

You feared disappointing him. “I-I don’t know how. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ll teach you, baby. Just get on your knees for me, yeah?” Last month, Eddie nearly combusted into the crotch area of his jeans watching you suck on a red lollipop during the chaotic minutes of lunch. Safe to say, an entire monologue teasing the meaning behind the potential return of hooded cultists had been ruined in the midst of advertising his upcoming campaign to his eager friends, who embarrassingly had to watch their Dungeon Master choke on his spit, when Eddie found your tongue twirling around the cherry ball of candy, only to suck up the syrupy saliva into you mouth. The head of his cock was no different than that lollipop. You’d do just fine. 

Letting your knees rub against your carpeted floor, your hands find perch onto his denim thighs, and you outlined the length of his cock with eyes, wondering how something of that thickness could fit into your mouth. Eddie parted ways with his pants, shuffling out of the rough material, with a metal chain and leather belt clanking along the way, to ensure enough room to have you get off on your stuffed animal.

“Go ahead, baby, start humping your little stuffie for me.” Eddie had meticulously placed your bunny between your legs, watching you for the moment your pussy came in contact with the nub of its nose. 

Eddie hissed at the affliction of pain from your nails digging into his hairy thighs, as you became too enlivened by the friction of your clit grinding against your little bunny to account for the provocation you were besetting against him. But Eddie Munson loved it. His immoral mind found arousal in watching you abuse his skin from pleasure, compelling his cock to jerk with profound need. 

“Yeah, feel good, princess? Rubbin’ that fucking pussy?” You pathetically nodded, gentle whispers of whimpers leaving your mouth, as you humped your teddy with all conviction. “God, just love usin’ that little bunny as a fuck toy, huh?” He pinched your chin to force your glossy gaze upon him. “Just like I’m gonna use you, right, honey?”

“Mhm, oh my- mm, fuck!” Your tummy clenched, as your hips picked up the momentum to circle the stuffed animal's face, and defile its fur with your wetness.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be my sweet, little bunny?” Eddie’s thumb began pulling at your bottom lip, leaving him cursing as it bounced back to its plumpness. “My sweet, little bunny who’s gonna be my little fuck toy to use whenever?”

“Y-Yes, Eddie… whenever.”

“Fuck, open that pretty fucking mouth for me, and stick out that tongue, baby.” Holding his cock up, Eddie smiled as you obliged so kindly, letting him smack the angry tip of his dick against your tongue, as you finally got a taste of him. 

“This w-will make you feel good, mm?” You pondered through mumbles, as you lost yourself in the sensation of pussy buzzing from the burning friction against your clit. 

“Yes, baby, fuck, just keep your mouth open.” Eddie’s hand fell heavy upon the top of your head, as he beckoned you to take him deeper, letting his cock to become enveloped in the soft warmth of your mouth. It became no question of whether this would feel good for him, the guttural moan that left his mouth upon intrusion had your hips bucking with fervency. 

The viscid coating of his cock with pungent precum made you hum, igniting a series of grunts from your boyfriend, as hissing vibrations exploded in his body. Eddie guided your hands to the base of his cock, encouraging you to massage the leftover that wasn’t occupied by your mouth. “Fuck, yes! Make it messy, baby, just spit all over it!” 

Eddie Munson sat back in rhapsody, losing himself in the delirium of having you choke on his cock, as your spit puddled his length, escaping your lips as you suckled on the frenulum of his head. His hair cascaded down, letting his body become too heavy to support as your mouth was bringing him a gratifying high that he never wanted to come down from. Your humps grappled against thumping his thumping veins, enclosing him into a vice grip that had him moaning at your mercy.

“Mm, sh-shit, princess, your—ugh, aaahh—mouth!” He huffed against his restricting lungs. Eddie’s hips began to mimic your bucking, as you moaned at the fizzing rub of your bunny scratching that greedy itch on your clit, allowing him to shove his cock to the gummy constriction of your throat, forcing you to gag on his invasive cock. Sweet spit raining down to his heavy balls, letting his pelvis of bushy pubes become soak with your secretion. 

You pulled off with a sore throat, thick strings of spit sticking from his cock to your lips, as your watering eyes scarily gleamed up at him. “Ugh! Y-Your too big- I can’t-”

“Yes, you can, fuck, it’s feels so fucking nice when you choke!” He urged your head back down, now blubbering with a need to finish on your tongue. “J-Just keep fucking yourself, shit! Don’t stop until I tell you.”

Your tongue reached to tickle the underside of his dick, memorizing his stern rigids that had your jaw hurting from breaking open. Eddie sat up to spy down your backside, where he virtually lost it at the sight of your ass cheeks recoiling from the lively movements of your hips humping your stuffy. “Ugh, you gonna cum, sweetheart?” He cupped your face, guiding your languid movements up and down his cock, as you went through the endeavor of nodding to his question. “Fucking cum, baby, cum all over your little bunny!” He demanded. 

His heavy hand landed on the back of your head, shoving your face to become suffocated in the unruliness of his pubic hair. Nose inhaling his musk, you sputtered on his cock, gagging at his length prodding at the back of your throat, all to bring Eddie’s long arm down to reach for your ass. A burning sting from a substantial slap had you wailing on his fat cock, “Fucking faster.” He dictated your movements, spurring your hips to drive into the plushy with spanks to your tormented ass. “Cum with me, fuck! M’gonna cum! Cum, baby, cum!”

The bundle of nerves in your pussy began detaching from one another, like a rope inching to snap. Rutting into your stuffed animal, your muffled moans were buzzing his cock, bringing you to the brink of a gushing explosion. Your thrusting became uncoordinated, as your tummy bursted with euphoria, and your release adulterated your white bunny. 

Sobbing on his cock, his stomach muscles tightened into an agonizing cramp, as his balls clenched to pump out his seed, flooding your throat with his hot cum. “Ah! Shit, shit, shit—ugh! Fuck me!” Gagging, your hands repeatedly swatted his thick thighs—decorated with the crescents and blistering scratches of your nails—to release you from potentially vomiting on his dick. 

His hand relinquished his hold, allowing you to come up for air. Gasping, struggling to find a breath of fresh air, as a concocted mixture of spit and cum dribbled out from your mouth, but you had no hesitation licking your lips to consume the strange taste of his release.

“Holy shit, that was incredible!” Eddie dropped back onto your bed, hands gripping his sweaty curls, as he urged his mind to collect the events that just transpired before him. Chest heaving, teeth gritted, skin moist, this- this is what that Belinda chick was singing about! It wasn’t until a warm head landed on his thighs, that his thoughts jumped to prioritize your wellbeing. In retrospect, the notion of his sticky balls pressing into your temple with his flaccid cock resting upon your forehead shouldn’t have been so idyllic to Eddie Munson, but my god, was his heart constricting at your exhausted state—half-lidded eyes begging for rest, plump lips parted for airy breaths, and your manicured fingers delicately tracing against the hairs of his thigh to soothe the injuries you were beginning to feel remorseful for inflicting. 

His hand gently stroking your cheek, garnering your attention, letting you tiredly peer up at his rosy state of pink cheeks and glistening skin. “You okay, princess? Too much? I shouldn’t have gone so rough, I’m sorry, baby. Fuck, just lost myself, you felt so good.” 

“It’s okay.” Your saccharine voice assured him. “You’re my boyfriend, you can do anything to me.”

Eddie Munson lovingly smiled at you, as he caressed your hot face. “As long as you want it. Only. Okay?” You nodded with confirmation, and you gazed up at your boyfriend with endearing eyes that had him bubbling with devotion to you. “Such a good girl, did you cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I promised to make you feel extra good, didn’t I, baby?” He smirked. “C’mere.” His strength guided you onto your bed, laying you against your cloud-like pillows, before reaching down to grab a hold of your bunny. Soiled with your cum, Eddie’s menacing grin cracked through his face, as he lightly pressed a finger into the wet fur. Your tummy stirred watching his tongue delve into the drenchness, and humming with delight. “Fuck, your pussy taste so good.” He groaned, discarding your stuffy to climb between your thighs.

Steady on his knees over you, he peeled off his ragged shirt, exposing his ivory skin of sharp bumps and squishy softness, ornamented with scary images of permanent ink your parents would surely scowl at if they ever saw. You beamed at him. “You’re so pretty, Eddie.”

His teeth stabbed into his lips, as he teasingly smiled with giddiness. “Thank you, darling. Never as pretty as you, though.”

While wanting the intimacy, you couldn’t help the surge of anxious nerves that brought an onslaught against you, as Eddie began trying to liven his cock with small strokes while eyeing your glistening pussy. “W-Wait, um…” His brows jumped into his bangs, as he awaited your concerns. “No.” You swallowed thickly. “Eddie, I’m not ready for… that.”

He could be Harrison Moran. He could break up with you. He could scoff at your prudeness. But Eddie Munson was simply a perverted man who devoted his longing into the beautiful girl that graced the halls of Hawkins High. He wasn’t Harrison Moran. And you learned that as Eddie stayed silent, merely leaning down to place an electrifying kiss to your lips, pouring out all his adoration for the girl that captivated his dreams every night for the past two years. 

“I still wanna keep my word, sweetheart.” He murmured into your kiss. “Can I do something else?”

You meekly looked into his darkwood eyes. “Will it hurt?”

“Not at all, princess.” He eased the scrunch of your worriment brows with a peck to your forehead. “I’d never hurt you.” 

With the nod of your head and the words of your mouth, Eddie had your corroboration to do as he please, and his mouth had traveled down the junction of your neck, sucking small love bruises to the column length; to the valley of your breasts, where his lips unclosed your hardened nipples with gentle suckles; and the softness of your bell, decorating your stomach with appreciative kisses that made you feel beautiful to the touch; before his breath became hot over your needy cunt. Sugary kisses of mawkish desire met the plushness of your inner thighs, inching to your swollen pussy lips, irritated and slick from the rawness of rubbing against your bunny. 

His long tongue dragged its way to part your cunt, leaving your breath to hitch at the newfound contact of his wet muscle ravishing you. If this is anything close to what he felt when your mouth was on him, surely you could forgive him for the bruised throat you’d have to aid in the following morning. Eddie became brutally gluttonous at the tangy arousal he slurped from your pulsating hole. So small and unused, he’d have a fucking field day when the moment would come he could drill his cock into you virgin pussy.  

The tip of tongue burned against your abused clit, agonizingly teasing swirls around the nub just to flick it with fervency, and have you crawling away from the unbearable overstimulation. “E-Eddie!” You stumbled for air. Your foot had planted itself against his hot forehead at an brutish attempt to push his determined mouth away, but Eddie Munson triumphed you in the realms of physical strength, and his arm had pried you open, before securing themselves to ground your squirming thighs. 

Latched like a leech, Eddie was becoming feverish from the deliriums of being pussy drunk. Sucking onto your clit, his head shook to abuse you, forcing the muscles in your legs to tighten with trembles. Your scent had engulfed him, as his nose smushed against your clit to snake his tongue into the clenching walls of your velvet pussy. Incoherent words were tumbling into your pussy, entirely unheard from your wrenching moans. 

“So fucking good.” He gargled into your cunt, groaning into your pussy, and making out with your entrance. Heaven was a place on Earth, and it was you. 

“I-I can’t, Eddie! Too much!” Though, your actions had conflicted with your words, hands buried into his hair, shoving his face to be submerged between your thighs, as your hips gyrated against the dimensions of his pretty face. On the precipice of letting go, your back flew off the surface of your bed, shaky legs lovingly crushing his head, with a moan beyond hotter than the numerous porno films of corny lines and exaggerated screams Eddie consumed just to perfect his skills. “I’m c-cumming- aahh!”

Eddie slurped your remaining juices, tonguing your pussy in search for anymore of your delicious cum that he would relish in. Patting your throbbing clit with a cherishing kiss goodbye, Eddie climbed your limp body, with a mouth and chin laminated with your wetness. One he smashed into your mouth with a smearing kiss against your lips, giving you a taste of the tarte sweetness of your pussy. 

“You’re such a good boyfriend.” You breathily giggled against his mouth, leaving him chuckling at your inebriated-like state. “Best one I’ve had.”

“I’m the only one you’ve ever had.” He laughed, as he guided you to rest on the thumping beat of his full heart. 

“So?” You smiled. “Donna’s always complaining about Tucker, and you’re nothing like him. I could never complain about you.” You were making him melt into a puddle of mush, as your words erupted in his tummy. He smiled down, kissing your hairline, before nudging you to grab a hold of your lips to his. “Mm, you smell good.” You hummed with delight.

Eddie guffawed. “Princess, that’s your pussy on my face.” He bumped your scrunching nose with a tender finger. “I probably smell like sex, sweat, and cigarettes, sweetheart.”

“But it’s you. I like you, Eddie.” Your round eyes peered up at him, and he held your contact.

“Yeah?” He whispered. Insecurity was swirling within him. Surely you were just babbling from the orgasm gifted upon you from him. Eddie Munson was Eddie Munson. You were fucking you. His vulgar behavior and profligate mind was undeserving of a girlfriend like-

“I’ve liked you for a while.” You smiled with closed eyes. Relishing. The bombshell of the revelation had his bursting with cinching brows of astonishment. “Remember, two years ago, we had art class together?” Remember? It was the day Eddie Munson first laid his eyes on you, of course, he remembers! Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t s- “I saw you, and you were just so cute doodling in your sketchbook. These scary monsters, and stuff. But they were good. I always wanted to compliment you on it, but I never got the courage. Just stuck to having a crush on you.” You delicately giggled. 

Eddie Munson could have been fucking you for the past two years?!

You were quick to hum into a light slumber. Eddie was stupefied at the actual idiocy he was currently metaphorically forehead-slapping himself for. That was until your sudden jolt had him jumping with concern.

“Oh, my god! Eddie, we completely forgot to go over the promotion of democracy and isolationism coming into the late 1800s!” You heaved.

He cooed. “Oh, sweetheart…”

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @sierrahhh

[wzrd-wheezes]

could i request a short imagine with remus x fem reader, where they’re best friends, and one day in the library while remus is talking about some book he’s passionate about, the reader just kisses him??? thank u!!!

Ink-Stained Fingers - Remus Lupin x Reader.

AN - this was such a cute request and i had so much fun writing it! thank you so much <3

Y/N’s fingers were stained with ink from her quill as she frantically scribbled on a particularly long roll of parchment, desperately trying to finish her potions essay that was due in the morning. Remus sat opposite her, his feet propped up on the table and a book gripped between his fingers.

“How many times have you read that one, then?” Y/N asked, glancing up at him.

“Dunno.” he replied, barely looking up, “Five maybe?”

Y/N smiled to herself, returning her attention to her homework. Remus would usually keep her company on her late night study sessions in the library when she was cramming in her homework last minute. She wasn’t as organised as he was usually.

Remus’ fingers toyed idly with a loose thread on the sleeve of his jumper as he read. By the looks of it, it was a book that he’d read over and over. The edges of the pages had gone fuzzy like they had been thumbed through many times and his brow furrowed as his eyes danced over the words.

“I can lend it you if you want?” Remus broke the silence.

“Are you feeling alright?” Y/N laughed, “James asked to borrow one of your books the other day and you looked like he’d just asked you to sacrifice your first born child!”

Remus chuckled, closing the book and placing it on the table.

“That was only ‘cause I know he wouldn’t look after it,” he said, “knowing him he’d probably leave it somewhere.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, dipping her quill back into the pot of ink and carrying on writing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Remus reach down to retrieve something from his bag. He took out a quill and ink and began flicking quickly through the pages of his book.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked, not looking up from the piece of parchment in front of her.

“‘M just writing you some notes in the margins,” he muttered, clearly deep in thought, “y’know, for when you read it.”

Her eyes snapped up to look at him and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Remus was biting down on his lip as he scribbled down his notes, a crease forming between his brows. It was as if he couldn’t get the words down on the pages quick enough.

“This is one of my favourites, you know?” he spoke, “The characters are so well thought out and the way that it’s written is honestly…”

He went on, telling her every detail of the story telling without trying to ruin it for her. His lips pulled into a smile as he spoke, the words spilling effortlessly out of his mouth. His eyes were wide and shining with excitement and Y/N had lost track of what he was saying, completely in awe of how passionately he was speaking about the book.

Y/N didn’t know why she did it, but before she had even registered what she was doing, she had leaned across the table and kissed him. She caught him mid sentence, his mouth slightly open and his lips soft against hers. Y/N pulled away quickly, her eyes widening and her heart pounding.

“If you wanted me to shut up you only had to tell me.” Remus laughed, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I’m sorry - I don’t know why I did that!” Y/N panicked, “Shit. you’re my best friend-”

This time Remus cut her off. Leaning over the table and grabbing her face with his hands. The kiss this time was more sure, his lips confident against hers, his hand resting on her jaw. He tried to pull her closer to him to deepen the kiss when all over a sudden they were distracted by a dull thud as something hit the wood of the table.

Looking down, they saw that the pot of ink had been knocked over, the dark liquid spilling across the table and seeping onto the the roll of parchment where Y/N was writing her essay. She let out a gasp, trying to snatch her work away from the ink that was spreading at a rapid pace.

“Don’t worry about it.” Remus said, taking the paper from her hands and dropping it to the floor, his eyes still fixed on hers. The ink had got on his fingers too, and he chuckled as he looked at them. “I’ll help you write another one.”

His lips quickly found Y/N’s again, their ink stained fingers intertwining.

[charmercharm3r]

flushed with fever

HHJ, LFX

Masterlist

wc: 3.6k

Requested

Synopsis: Toxic as it is, he can't help looking at you in a loving relationship and wishing it was him instead. He also can't stop looking at your boyfriend.

warnings: angst with an up-for-interpretation ending, suggestive, alcohol consumption, reader gets lightly shoved once but that's about it

God, Felix hated him. Felix doesn’t hate anyone, but he hates him. He hates his stupid nicely styled hair. He hates his stupid charming smile, hates how tall he was and how he knew he was always the most attractive one in the room– Hyunjin’s confidence was something Felix envied. Almost as much as he envied the fact that Hyunjin had you.

You, with that sweet perfume that he loved. You, with the little hop you did whenever you saw him. You, with your eyes that lit up every time Hyunjin even looked in your direction. Felix had been watching you fall deeper in love with his roommate for as long as he could remember. He felt so terrible every time he was around the two of you because of how jealous he was. No– jealousy is juvenile. What Felix felt was covetous, yearning, and insatiable all within the same breath that it took to say your name.

Out of all the times you’d hung out with Felix one on one, it had to be a group outing that sent him over the metaphorical edge. He didn’t even want to go, but you batted your pretty lashes at him and he couldn’t help melting on the spot. You jumped with joy when he said yes and even gave him a hug, Felix tried to brush off the affection but it was too hard to resist not embracing you back. “I’m excited! I feel like you never wanna hang out anymore,” you didn’t think anything of it as the words left your mouth– it made his blood boil for a second.

“I wanna hang out. With you.” A little more backhanded than he intended, but the point got across. You frowned, but quickly let it go in favor of lightly scratching the underside of his chin.

“You could always ask me to hang out, too y’know. You’re my best friend, aren’t you?”

Best friend. He hated that word almost as much as he hated Hyunjin. Okay– hate is a strong thing to say, moreso the idea of your boyfriend left a nasty taste in his mouth whenever he thought of him. But even with all those mixed emotions, he still cared for you more than anything. So Felix nodded and smiled and did as he always did to ease the pain.

He and Hyunjin were close, so his secret disdain for the other boy made him all the more conflicted inside. There was the fact that his older, raven haired friend was nothing but nice to him, Hyunjin took care of him and supported him in the same way Felix supported you. Felix understood why you fell for him no matter how much he tried to deny it. In another world, perhaps he would have tested those waters himself. That only begs a question he refused to confront.

It was your idea to arrive at your group’s gathering together, Felix automatically assumed that Hyunjin would be joining as well, so his early departure before you came was confusing. But you knocked on the front door an hour later with a bright smile and greeted him the way you always did. Felix just had to ask why your boyfriend left before you. “He’s helping Changbin set up. Something about a fire pit he can’t get started– as if Hyunjin knows anything about that,” you joked.

Maybe he was reading too much into it, but he didn’t dwell for long. You were here all for himself, at least for the time being. Felix let you in the house while he gathered up his stuff and you watched as he did so with a look he couldn’t quite read, sitting at the kitchen island with your hands perched in your palms and a furrow in your brow.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asked and came to pack the rest of his bag across the counter.

“You.”

The sudden admittance made his ears perk and immediately tint red. “And Hyunjin.” Felix’s cheeks suddenly felt hot. Was he sweating?

“How so?” He powered through his own flush to ask.

“What happened between you two?” Such an unexpected question really threw him off to the point his hands froze entirely as he stopped to look you dead in the face. It was like you were reading his mind, “are you mad at him?” He genuinely didn’t know what to say, that wasn’t how he thought this conversation was going to go. Even when Hyunjin wasn’t here, somehow he still is. “Sorry if I’m overstepping, but you’re the most important people to me.”

People. Not person– people.

“I would hate for you to be fighting over–”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he interrupted. The taken aback look you had made him regret the somewhat rude tone instantly. Backtracking, Felix continued, “everything’s okay. Did– did he mention… something? About me?”

“No, I just know you both. It’s weird.”

“Maybe ask your boyfriend then.” Another thing he immediately regretted saying.

You looked defeated for a second, deflating glow dimming with every passing moment because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check over a simple question. “Sorry,” was all you said.

Felix felt worse upon realizing that you really did take his words to heart. Logically, he knew you never did anything on purpose in regards to toying with his feelings seeing as you couldn’t have known about anything of the sort because he never told you. When he thinks of it that way, Felix drowns in the guilt because you couldn’t look at him now. You wanted the best for him, so why couldn't he want the same for you? Is it because he knows he could be better? Because he knows he should be the one you kiss goodnight and parade on your arm for all your friends to see? How he knows your your favorite drink to have after a hearty meal, or that you purposely avoid stepping on the cracks on the sidewalk because of a silly superstition, or that you sprint into bed after turning off the light out of fear of the something lurking in the darkness and you think the blanket is an impenetrable shield that keeps you safe. Logically, he knew this was all theoretical and that Hyunjin was just as capable of providing everything that Felix claims he could.

“Forget about it,” he perks up instantly and erases the souring words from his head. With a pat to your head, Felix skips around the counter to give you a quick hug from behind and has you laughing away the discomfort in seconds. His heart beats a little quicker.

By the time the two of you make it to Changbin’s place, most of your friends are already relaxing around the firepit that your boyfriend is attempting to keep alive and fiery. It’s a funny sight, even to Felix who laughed along with everyone as Hyunjin thought that pouring hand sanitizer into the fire would make it burn brighter because it contained alcohol.

“It says it kills 99% of germs! If it’s strong enough to do that then wouldn’t it mean it’s flammable?” His reasoning made you giggle into his shoulder and kiss his cheek, which in turn had Felix trudging over to the table of drinks and pouring himself something on the stronger side.

He winced as he downed the icky concoction and didn’t hear the footsteps approaching his side. “Alright?” Hyunjin had nudged his shoulder and began pouring something into two cups, Felix assumed one was for you.

“Not strong enough,” he joked dryly. Hyunjin chuckled and poured into Felix’s cup as well. “Trying to get me drunk?”

The older glanced at Felix with an unreadable smirk, “not from alcohol, no.”

Felix didn’t know how to take his roommate’s ominous demeanor, side eyeing him, then you still sat with everyone else. Hyunjin glanced at the blonde and raised his cup that suggested Felix do the same, the pair silently toasted and each took a sip of the much too strong elixir. As Hyunjin watched his friend grimace at the taste, he snuck a look over at you as well, his eyes growing wide in adoration when you met his gaze and smiled. But then you tracked your attention towards Felix, too, and that same look didn’t falter, not that the younger seemed to notice. Hyunjin understood the appeal, he looked at your best friend the same way you did, mouthwatering and glowing alongside the brightness of the fire. Leaning down to his ear, Hyunjin said just above a whisper, “don’t think too hard, yeah?”

Confused and slightly too distracted by your stare he’d now caught, Felix didn’t entirely register your boyfriend’s words until he’d already strutted away and was taking his seat beside you.

The night felt like a blur in a sense that he couldn’t really tell what time it was nor remember how many drinks he had consumed, all Felix knew was that he wasn’t drunk enough to be able to stand watching you running your fingers through Hyunjin’s pretty black hair while he leaned his head against your shoulder. That should’ve been him. It should’ve been him, not Hyunjin. Was that just the alcohol talking? Who cares– fuck Hyunjin and his stupid smile, fuck his stupidly attractive hands wrapped around your waist, fuck his intoxicating cologne he could still smell from earlier, and most of all, fuck you for choosing Hyunjin instead of him.

“Lix, why do you keep staring at Y/N?” Seungmin, seated across the firepit, threw a crumpled newspaper at him, gaining the attention of the entire group.

“He’s drunk on patron and love, obviously.” Minho, ever the instigator.

“I wish I was drunk,” Felix, who spoke more to himself than anyone, could feel all eyes on him as he raised his cup to his lips again. He didn’t want to, in fact he resisted every muscle in his body until he physically couldn’t do it anymore to keep from looking at you, keep from looking at Hyunjin.

It hurt to see you concerned for him as there was nothing to be concerned about. He was used to this downward spiral and keeping it hidden so that you wouldn’t have to ever worry about him– he knew you’d be upset about the stress-induced forehead wrinkles afterwards. Felix did his best to keep his head down towards the fire, but saw from the corner of his eye Hyunjin whispering in your ear, eyebrows also furrowed. You nodded, tapped his knee and stood.

Oh god, you were headed straight for him. Why did you have that look on your face? The same one you made when you saw a hurt puppy on a TV show. Why did you tip the rest of your drink in the bush? Weren’t you here to have a good time? Oh no, oh, please don’t smile at him, his bruised heart can’t take it.

You did more than smile at him, you kneeled beside his lawn chair and gently reached for the solo cup in his hand. Felix let you take it from him and pour the contents into the grass, the warmth of your touch already making him feel entirely immobilized. You kept his hand in yours, softly interlacing your fingers as your eyes widened upon looking up at his face. “How do you feel? Wanna go home?” Thumb tracing across the back of his hand was mind numbing and much too domestic.

“W– with you?” You laughed and tucked his hair behind his ear.

“Mhm, and Hyunjin.”

“Like… all three of us?”

“Sure. You live together, don’t you?” His chest deflated a little, stealing his hand back and standing abruptly with a wobble. You immediately followed and placed your hands on him to steady, but Felix pushed you away and made you stumble back into his chair.

“What the hell, Lix?” You snapped a little and the distress in your tone caused Hyunjin to appear almost out of thin air to help you to your feet again.

“What’s going on?” The older boy kept an arm around your waist as his free hand tried to keep Felix upright, but the blonde pushed him away, too.

Perhaps he really did have a bit too much to drink, but if that was the case, why was he entirely coherent of the words wanting to come out of his mouth? “I don’t want your help– either of you.”

You rose again after a second to regain your composure and stood tall before him. Felix’s attempt at intimidating you didn’t seem to work, moreso you were thrown off by his outburst, but not backing down. “Let’s go home,” you held your hand out again and waited. The rest of your friends had dispersed around the house and the only ones left around the firepit were Minho, a girl, and Jisung, none of whom were paying attention to the three of you. Felix couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed about taking your hand after literally shoving you away, not an ounce of pride left for him to cling to.

Hyunjin held your other hand and led you all out of the house, only shouting a few goodbyes to get halfhearted ones in return from your preoccupied mates. The blonde kept his head down most of the ride home in the backseat of Hyunjin’s car whilst doing his best to ignore your shared conversation that seemed unaffected by the events that took place minutes ago. Felix enjoyed listening to you talk, he also liked the sound of Hyunjin’s voice. Acting like he didn’t want to be involved in the small talk was getting somewhat draining and eventually forgot to be sulky. He giggled quietly to himself as Hyunjin cracked jokes to make you laugh. Then the car parked, Felix found himself smiling when you opened the door for him, holding his hand once more the entire journey back into their apartment with Hyunjin keeping a light hand on his back as he followed closely behind.

Felix felt his eyes closing slowly the longer your warmth suffocated his skin, wishing it was the alcohol that made him feel that way. He didn’t feel remotely drunk now, high on you and your stupidly attractive boyfriend making Felix feel like he was royalty. Hands shrugged his coat off for him, led him into his bedroom so he could fall back onto the bed, and Felix giggled louder as he took you down with him. Hyunjin watched the pair of you with a heartwarming smile before excusing himself to his own bedroom.

Laying next to him made you feel lightheaded, which was strange because it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be staring at his ceiling this way. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, eyes full of something hopeful, fear, and a little bit of guilt. As calmly as he could without his heart beating out of his chest, Felix whispered, “I’m sorry. I was a jerk… You’re too kind to me.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda love you.”

It fell from your lips before you could think about it, or even consider the way he was still looking at you. His mouth parted in disbelief no matter how many times you’ve said those four words to him, but there were so many things running through him and his mind tonight.

One thing in particular, he couldn’t stop thinking about; your lips. How pretty and plump they looked, glossy but not sticky, and how badly he wanted to kiss them. Felix wanted to smother you in kisses constantly, but right now he wanted a burning, sensual kiss that made his whole body tingle. It wasn’t the alcohol, instead purely his insatiable need to feel you.

Felix leaned in, so slowly that you wouldn’t have noticed if you didn’t see Hyunjin return to the doorway and give you a slight nod with a smirk plastered across his face.

It was just a kiss, nothing more, nothing less, but Felix was so gentle and soft, only letting himself find a rhythm once he felt you kiss him back. Your lips molded together so good that it was impossible to get yourself to pull away even upon hearing Hyunjin step into the room. Your boyfriend chuckled quietly, “hey now,” his voice made Felix disconnect in an instant, rolling over to see the older boy falling to kneel by his bedside. “Don’t hog him for yourself.”

Felix’s head was spinning, looking between you and your dark haired boyfriend to make sure he was really experiencing this and it wasn’t a dream. He gave himself emotional whiplash paired with how quickly he sat up as Hyunjin came down beneath his eye level. You watched as your boyfriend glided his hand across the sheet to tenderly hold Felix’s. Hyunjin interlaced their fingers, “is this okay?”

Felix nodded shyly and his skin flushed a deeper red than it already had. You sat up as well, scooting closer to lightly press your chest to his back and rest your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to choose, Lix. If you want us both, we’re yours.”

The blonde’s breathing became heavier as Hyunjin squeezed his hand and you placed a chaste kiss to his shoulder, backing away just a little. It was silent for a few moments as Felix processed what was happening. The effects of the alcohol were long worn off, he was running on adrenaline now and could feel his body being pumped full of it.

“Do you like when I hold your hand?” Hyunjin whispered, thumb caressing the top of the younger’s hand. Felix thought for a moment, focused solely on the feeling of Hyunjin’s skin and how much bigger the appendage was in comparison to his own. He more than liked it, but he also more than liked how it felt holding your hand.

He nodded again, just as timid. “I’d like to do it some more, if that’s alright with you.”

“It hurts a little,” Felix blurted out. Hyunjin pulled away immediately and stared into the blonde’s eyes with concern. “No! Not physically– I mean– yes, physically. But… emotionally, too? It’s like…” He thought a little deeper to try and explain the tingling sensation he felt all over. Hyunjin peaked over Felix’s shoulder at you as you came in close behind him again. You nod at your boyfriend with a sympathetic smile as Felix relaxes a little under the heat of your body surrounding him.

“...Like when you strum a song on the guitar for too long, a– and you stop but you can still feel the vibrations in your fingers even if they’re numb. It’s a really shitty song, too, but you just can’t get the melody out of your head.”

Hyunjin’s gaze softened and quietly reached for Felix’s hand again, he winced upon the touch until he realized that his hands were shaking. Your boyfriend’s larger one cupped over the youngers’ and the shaking stopped. Eyes not leaving his face, Hyunjin picked up his hand as delicately as he would a withered flower and brought the pads of his fingers to his lips. Your heart swelled feeling Felix’s own heartbeat speed up. “I didn’t know choosing was an option,” Felix admitted.

“You thought we wouldn’t notice?” You joked and brushed your fingers through the back of his hair, to which he leaned into.

“I hoped as much.”

“That’s adorable,” Hyunjin snagged his attention again and flipped his hand to place another peck to his palm. Goosebumps erupted over Felix’s skin and shivered in your hold. “Just so you know what all your options are,” Hyunjin reached for the blonde’s cheek, snaking it back through his hair until his fingers found yours and interlocked them, dragging your shared touch down his neck to rest on his shoulder and pull Felix in to meet his lips half way.

His entire body on fire, suffocating in Hyunjin’s scent while being submerged in the feeling of you, Felix didn’t know what to do with himself other than kiss back. But same as his kiss with you, nothing more, nothing less. Hyunjin’s lower lip was plumper than the top and was more than a delight to mesh against, while yours matched the thickness of his own and were pillowy soft.

As Hyunjin drew away, Felix chased after him for more that resonated a giggle out of you and the raven haired. “Don’t think too hard about it,” you murmur and wrap your arms around him to embrace tightly, “you’ll hurt your pretty head.”

Hyunjin leans in and kisses Felix’s warm, rosy cheek, then moves over his shoulder to sweetly give you a small smooch before standing. He moved towards the door but stopped to hold out his hand for you. You jumped to your feet and took it as Hyunjin spoke again, “if you don’t feel like thinking at all, you know where we’ll be.” He smirks at the blonde cheekily, whisking you away with shared laughter.

Before you could head too far down the hall, you slip from Hyunjin’s grasp to skip back to Felix’s room where he was still sitting in his stunned position. You were a bit too excited, rushing to push his shoulders so he could fall onto his back and you tower over him, engulfing him once again in a somehow innocent yet electrically charged few fiery presses of your lips together. He kissed you back and found the courage to grip your waist just seconds before you pulled away, both of you breathless. You smiled down at him triumphantly, “before I was so rudely interrupted.”

Words physically wouldn’t come out of his mouth, Felix stammered beneath your teasing gaze. When you climbed off him was the first time he thinks he breathed since coming home. As you scampered away with a shit-eating smirk, you called out, “the door will be unlocked!”

-

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts

[razorblade180]

9 days of Lancaster Day 5: Hidden Relationship

Ruby:*washing plates*

Jaune:*dirty* Hey there stranger. Hard at work I see.

Ruby:I lost a bet with Nora and this is my punishment. What’s with the smudges?

Jaune:Yang wanted to help me “improve my combat abilities.”

Ruby:Ooof, I’m sorry.

Jaune:I’m not immediately sore like last time so that’s something.

Ruby grabs a glass and fills it with water for him.

Jaune:Awww, my heart. *grabs it*

Ruby:Hush you goober. I know Yang’s training all too well. I’m surprised you’re walking.

Jaune:Well y’know, recently I’ve been getting in good stamina training.

Ruby:*red*…Is that so? Hadn’t noticed. My training is always pretty vigorous.

Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed. Guess I still have a long way to go. Although…I’m sure you’d have a little more trouble with my “training”

Ruby:Pfft, oh really? I think I’m pretty fit in case you haven’t noticed!

Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed.

Ruby:…..*flicks water on him*

Jaune:Ah!

Ruby:I couldn’t think of a comeback. You’re filthy anyways. I’m just washing you up a bit.

Jaune:If that’s the case…I think there’s a smudge around my chin I can’t quite get off.

Ruby didn’t know if it was herself, Nora, or Yang that has influenced Jaune, but it was a diabolical blessing. The young knight approached her innocently with a smile. Ruby double checked their surroundings then preceded to gently rub her thumb across his chin. Of course, Jaune took the opportunity to pull her in by her lower back. Ruby gladly became ensnared in his trap, going as far to stand up on her toes and give a sweet, mischievous kiss.

The two of them giggled as they continued peppered each other with growing affection. If only more of these moments could come by frequently. Unfortunately, privacy is hard in a group of nine, and the both of them wished to revel in this growing relationship away from others. Not forever of course, but long enough to make it feel personal and intimate. Although if the others knew, they’d probably tell them intimacy is far from a problem.

Ruby felt her body hold him closer as their kiss became…less innocent. Jaune was seconds away from putting her on the countertop when the click of a doorknob snapped them back to reality. An instant petal burst brought Ruby back to washing dishes while Jaune focused on his water as Yang walked in.

Yang:Hey party people! Ruby, you should’ve seen Jaune during our match. Gotta admit, he’s getting some moves. Almost pinned me a few times.

Ruby:Wow, that’s high praise. Practice must be paying off.

Jaune:*refilling water*

Yang:Someone’s thirsty.

Ruby:Pfft, I’ll say. He’s all red too.

Jaune:W-What can I say? Things got pretty heated, literally.

Ruby:Please don’t singe him. We can’t explain that to Nora.

Yang:He will be fine. All he needs is a little rest and a well deserved bath. Also isn’t Nora supposed to be on dish duty?

Ruby:I lost a bet, which sucks because I wanted to look around Mistral a bit.

Yang:I’ll take over for ya. You suck at drying anyways.

Ruby:Hey!

Yang:I’m gonna put my things away first. Jaune, hit the showers. You smell like smoke. *walks off*

Jaune:Gee, I wonder why!

He waves goodbye at Ruby and heads to the bathroom. Honestly it was a miracle he didn’t singe anything. As he walked in a closed the door, a sudden gust went by him. Jaune turned around and was greeted with a swift hand over his mouth from Ruby while the other quickly locked the door behind him. She slowly moved her hand and smiled.

Ruby: I lied about Mistral

Jaune: You are gonna get me killed.

Ruby tried not to laugh. She ran the sink and turned on the bath for more noise.

Ruby:Gotta make opportunities where you can. Besides…*red* You got me a little riled up.

Jaune:I mean…fair but- my life.

Ruby:You’ll be fine. I’ll sneak out after I learn about this so called “training” so let’s just focus on us. I can also help you wash up, like any good partner would do. Unless… you don’t want to?

She didn’t even let him respond before taking off her cap and sitting on the sink counter with a wide grin. Ruby held her arms out, inviting him. Despite his protests, Jaune easily walked into the embrace and found his hands back where they were before they were interrupted.

Jaune:Prepare for your workout.

Ruby:Hehe, lead on. I’m happily in your care~

[outerbankies]

you didn’t do anything wrong & squeeze my hand baby... hype to read these bestie😩🥵

new light: no surprises

nl masterlist

a/n: thank you for sending this in!!! (so very very long ago) (desperately hope whoever sent this in is still around to read it or will stumble across it one day) (feel like it wasn't what you imagined in sending these prompts, but i tried!!!) takes place in part 6 (??) after the porch swing talk but before the goodbye. yes let’s go with that and sorry for any retcon

Rafe Cameron insists on walking you to your parents’ front door every time he drops you off. It’s second nature to you, now, to wait as he opens his truck’s passenger door and shuts it behind you once he’s helped you out, his hand outstretched for yours, which has hardly touched a door handle since you began dating. He’s a romantic, big on good-night kisses, and he’ll always wait until you’re inside before he so much as turns around to start walking back to his truck.

It took some getting used to, and you’d passed the point where you thought he might give it a rest. But that never happened, and you’d come to learn you want to expect nothing less—not from him or from any other guy you’d plan to get serious with, which was hardly a thought your mind could conjure these days.

How could it, when it was always taken up with remembering the names of songs you think he’d like, or reminding yourself to change out the water in the seemingly endless vases of flowers stationed on your desk, your dresser and your night table, or by reading books he’d recommend to you only after he’d finished them—after many sessions tucked together on a beach towel under the shade of an umbrella.

But maybe just this once, you really wish he was more like your ex-boyfriend back at college, the one who dropped you off at the end of your driveway and sped away more nights than he didn’t.

Of course, that just wouldn’t be your boyfriend Rafe Cameron.

“What do you think about the mainland tomorrow?” he asks, his hand at the small of your back, the two of you climbing the steps of your parents’ porch, slowly, drawing out the moments before goodbye.

“I think I love that idea,” you decide, smiling as you think about it. 

“Let’s get the early boat,” he says. “Sarah told me about this new brunch spot.”

“I definitely trust her taste. She’s bougier than you,” you say, drawing away from him and toward the door, hand still connected to his.

“I’m not sure if I’m insulted by that,” Rafe says, pulling you back toward him before shifting his body to fit between you and the door, giving you no access to the knob. “But I am sure that I’m not ready for you to go inside yet.”

“You’re not?” you muse, slipping your arms up and around his neck. 

About a month ago, you’d be concerned about your giddiness for him being written all over your face. But Rafe’s cheeks were almost permanently tinged pink in your presence, and it only has the effect of making you want him more. 

“This dress is insane,” he says, leaning in for a peck only after his eyes sweep up your frame the way they had been doing all night. “You gonna leave your window open for me tonight?”

“Might close it early,” you shrug, pretending to ponder on it.

But Rafe is having none of it, lips catching yours in a way that should embarrass you when you know your dad’s home office has a street-facing window. “Really?”

“Y’know, gotta catch that early ferry and all.”

“What time should I come?” he murmurs against your lips, his arms constricting impossibly tighter around your waist. “Or we can skip brunch. Actually, fuck brunch and forget I said anything.”

“I’ll text you,” you say. “Alright? Just hang on a bit.”

“I’ll try,” he sighs, dropping one more kiss to your forehead as you reluctantly step away. “But no sweat. Get some sleep if you need to, sweetheart.” 

The front door flies open just as you’re making to push it in, your mother’s excited face appearing before you. Never in the history of the world has that been a good sign.

“I thought that was you two!” she says. “Rafe, a pleasure as always.” 

“You as well, Mrs. Y/l/n. I was just going.”

“Nonsense,” she says, before turning to you. “Y/n, your grandparents are here.”

You blink. “Why?”

She glances between you and Rafe, still exuberant, ignoring your question completely. “Have him come in and meet them, will you? They’ll be so excited.”

Your head is spinning, but you feel Rafe’s hand slip into yours, and you give him a squeeze for reassurance. For who, you aren’t sure. “Mom—sorry, when did they get here? I wouldn’t have went out tonight if I knew.”

“They surprised us. Now surprise them back,” she urges, turning before you answer, heels click-clacking across the foyer. She glances over her shoulder, one last enticement. “Peach pie.” 

You turn to Rafe, sighing with your face immediately buried into his chest.

His laugh reverberates. “C’mon, baby girl.”

“You don’t have to come in. I promise,” you say.

“I want to. I promise,” he answers, shrugging. “As long as it’s alright with you, it’s alright with me. Your mom’s side, right?”

Your eyes widen, thinking about the alternative. “Yes. Jesus, if it was my dad’s, we’d be back down the road already.”

You sigh, trying to steel your nerves with your eyes shut tight. The door was still open—you needed to get in there sooner or later.

“Y/n,” Rafe says, your full name falling off of his tongue and invoking in your body an involuntary reaction. He was more keen on pet names, you’d noticed, and shortening your name to the one only your friends called you. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” you confirm, taking him by the hand again as you both face the entryway. Your far hand reaches up to grab at the crook of his elbow, both of your hands gripping, but not too tight.

“Are you? What’s our signal?”

You feel your eyebrows knit. “Our signal?”

“Yeah. Y’know, like a code word or something when you need an out. You and Dylan don’t have one?”

You think back to previous holidays, the eye contact made at the table, the kicks in your shins and the heavier sips when you realize you’re on the same page—that it’s time to get just drunk enough to be able to handle this without tipping anyone off. “I think our signal might just be alcohol.” 

“I’m not getting drunk in front of your dad.” 

You roll your eyes. “I know.”

“What about Kelce?” 

“What about him?” you ask. “We don’t have a signal either.”

“No, his name. The word. Just say ‘Kelce’ if you need me to dive bomb us out of the dining room,” he says. 

You shake your head, still racking your brain and prolonging the inevitable. “That won’t work. My grandma loves talking about Kelce.”

“Huh,” Rafe says, incredulous, his mouth twisting. “Imagine that.”

“Sorry,” you wince, squeezing his hand again. “Sorry—she just. We’ve been friends for so long. That doesn’t matter. They’re gonna love you.”

“Just do that,” he says, like he’s already moved on. “Just squeeze my hand, baby.”

You look down at where your hand is clasped in his, giving another experimental squeeze and having it returned.

He nods, a question in his eyes. “Got it?”

“Got it,” you say with a grateful smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “And you do it, too. You know, if she does bring up Kelce and you can’t handle it. She still talks about his prom tux.”

“Too soon, Y/l/n,” he mutters, leading you over the threshold. “Too fuckin’ soon.”

—

“No more,” Rafe groans, his hand on his stomach. “I might explode.”

You eat the last bit of peach pie off the fork you’d been offering to him, the both of you giggling as he wipes a bit from the corner of your lips. The way he licks his thumb after has you grateful your grandparents are already halfway back home—you know Rafe wouldn’t come back over later if he knew your grandparents were spending the night.

“You realize she’ll show up at Thanksgiving with, like, three of those now?” you say, setting the fork on the plate he’s holding, which he quickly puts on the table beside the couch before he leans back.

“Let her. I’ll wear an elastic band.”

“A little presumptuous,” you say. “Thinking you’ll get an invite to my mother’s Thanksgiving dinner.” 

Rafe looks temporarily affronted. “I—”

“M’joking, baby,” you say, kissing his cheek, legs thrown over his. “She’d kill me if I didn’t bring you. And now I think my grandparents would, too.”

“Cliff is chill as hell. I can’t believe your grandpa runs a nonprofit. That’s not very Figure 8 of him,” Rafe says.

You roll your eyes, burrowing your head into his chest all the same as he fails to hide any affinity, just as your grandmother had done with him. Appeasing the women in your family could never be further down on your list of priorities, especially when it came to your suitors. But you couldn’t help but feel something happy settle in your stomach, watching your mom exchange looks with her own mother as they watched Rafe. 

“Maybe that’s why they moved.”

“I guess I’m surprised,” he admits. “Your mom… she’s so…”

“Figure 8?”

“Is that okay to say?”

“Yeah. She is,” you say. “It’s kinda engrained. But I think she likes it that way.”

“You’re not like that,” he says, his thumb dragging down your shoulder and back again. “What was your grandpa saying about a job next year?”

“Hm?” you say, snuggling down further into him, eyes starting to droop. 

“I dunno,” he says quieter. “I thought Cliff was talking about you coming to work for him next year.”

You heard him correctly the first time, but you honestly hoped he’d drop it. “Yeah. Just newsletters, digital. Stuff like that.”

“That sounds cool,” he says, and you can hear him trying in vain to keep his voice even.

“He said I’d get my own office,” you admit. “And a title.”

Rafe perks up slightly. “Oh yeah?”

“Senior nepotism associate.”

“Get out of here,” he laughs, tugging on the strand of your hair that he’d been twirling around his finger, a bit of the tension breaking between you. “That shouldn’t bother you. And it figures that’s your bloodline. All those ocean cleanups you dragged us to.”

“Seem to remember you showing up to…” you trail off, counting on your hands. “1, 2… let’s see, all of them?” 

He bats at your hands. “Alright, alright. Have you thought about it though?”

“A little,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation you didn’t want to have. “I know a few of his employees. And I don’t think I’d mind working for him. Their mainland office isn’t a far walk from the ferry in. It’d be great, really.” 

“But…” he pries, tugging on the strand again.

“But,” you sigh. “I don’t know. I still don’t wanna close myself off to the idea of staying in California. I love it there. I’m making ins with Agnes and her network, I know it.”

He nods, going quiet for a while as you both gaze out at the water. “It’s nice that you have options, though.”

You turn to him then, taking his far hand and holding it between yours, fiddling with the cigar band on his ring finger. “It’s a whole year away, Rafe.”

“I know,” he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Hey, I know. I just don’t like thinking about being away from you.”

“Well we’re… Rafe, we’re gonna be apart,” you say. “At least for a year. And that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

He nods again. “I guess... this summer, it’s just been easy to forget all of that. That I’m going to Georgia and you’re going to California, and you might not be coming back. But I am. And even though I know that... I don’t know what it says about me that I’m picturing having you here with me all the damn time.”

You’ve taken the time to picture it, too. It’s hard not to when most of the summer has been interrupted bliss, and you’ve been toying with the idea of coming back long before Rafe re-entered your picture.

“This is why I didn’t wanna talk about it,” you say morosely, beside yourself when you feel your tear ducts sting.

“Baby,” Rafe whispers. “Hey, baby. I’m sorry I brought it up. I just thought with how he was talking about it, I don’t know, it sounded like you were really considering it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Rafe,” you tell him, willing your tears not to fall. But now that he’s onto you, that he’s reading the emotions in your eyes and feeling what’s weighing on your heart, it’s like your body decides it’s allowed to fall apart. You sniffle. “I don’t know what I’m considering. But I don’t like thinking about being away from you either.”

He thumbs away some tears, before looking back out across the horizon, the sky somehow almost an inky black color when it had just been lit up in hues of orange and pink minutes ago. 

“Hate it when you do that,” he says, his arm dropping around your shoulders again.

“What?” you ask.

“Cry because of me.”

You don’t have anything to say to that, and if you tried to speak again you might completely lose it, so you settle for slipping your hand back into his, squeezing as tight as you can.

Because you know this isn’t the first—and certainly won’t be the last—time that you’ll cry over Rafe Cameron.

[so-sangthearcher]

The Lovers, The Dreamers, And Us || Josh kiszka x F!reader

Warnings: recreational drug use

Pure fluff, crack treated seriously tbh

wc: 1.7k

-

Josh had invited you over for a night in with him and the boys.

You knew what that meant. Getting high off their fancy, expensive weed, and getting loose with each other while step brothers plays on the large screen in the background. Ten minutes after getting the message, you were in a soft sweater, grabbing your bag that was full of snacks, and heading out the door. They only lived about 15 minutes away, so you decided to send Josh a text, letting him know you were on your way. Upon your arrival, you noticed that Josh’s jeep was the only car in the drive way. This made you raise your eyebrow, but you figured they were still on their way.

You parked and made your way to the door, knocking with the jaunty tune of “shave and a haircut,” alerting Josh to your presence. You stood back, shifting from foot to foot while you waited for him to let you in. In true Josh fashion, he took his sweet time. Just as you were about to knock again, the door came swinging open, a slight plume of smoke making its way out onto the porch. “I see you got started with out me,” you hummed, eyeing him as you pushed your way past him, making yourself out home with no hesitance. You met his eye as he grinned at you. “You sure keep me in check, don’t you,” he laughed, making his way over to the couch that you had settled yourself on. You let your head fall back against the plush cushion, watching as Josh reached for the bong, making sure the cherry was still bright, and producing smoke. He took a deep inhale, smirking at the way the water bubbled, before letting the smoke settle in his lungs and pushing it out. He thrust the glass object towards you, shaking it lightly. You rolled your eyes and grabbed it, taking a decent hit to get yourself started. “I usually wait for the others, y’know,” you teased, the last little bit of smoke flowing through your lips as you talked. Josh shifted in his spot next to you, “Yeah.” He signed, letting his head roll to the side so he was facing you. “They aren’t coming.”

“What?” You asked, a little startled, “Why not?”

Josh groaned, “Danny roped the other two into going out tonight, after I had already invited you. But I didn’t want to cancel on you, so… I figured you and I could keep up the tradition.”

It wasn’t uncommon for this type of thing to occur. Though, there was something different about getting high with just Josh. Something… Tender, secretive, yearning almost.

You giggled and sighed, letting the weed make its way into your psyche. “It’s fine, they’re a bunch of weenies. We’ll just get high enough for all of them.” You said, matter-of-factly. Josh nodded in agreement, your glassy eyes meeting each other for a second that was just too long to be platonic. You tore your eyes away, grabbing your bag and plopping it down in between the two of you. “We feast,” you said, tone flourishing, as you grabbed the copious amount of junk food you had stuffed in there. “Ugh, you are, an angel,” Josh groaned as he packed another bowl, eyeing the selection you had laid out in front of him. He held the flame under the bowl, letting the glass heat, small plumes of smoke rising from the bowl. He took another hit, letting the smoke permeate his lungs before grabbing a bag of hot Cheetos and tearing it open. “The heartburn is gonna be wild,” He sighed, releasing the smoke from his lung. You rummaged around in your bag before pulling out the tums, slapping the bottle in his hand, “I came prepared,” you said, watching the dopey smile spread across his face. “My angel,” he sighed, repeating the term of endearment from earlier. Your cheeks burned, there was that yearning feeling again.

The peaceful atmosphere and your altered state heightened these feelings, making them harder to ignore. It wasn’t like you were ignorant to your feelings about Josh, it’s just that they were that much more obvious in this room alone, with your thighs pressing against Josh’s. You allowed yourself to feel, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, cheeks heating once more as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You sat up, grabbing the bong, taking a few more deep hits, letting your head spin. “Jesus, y/n, we have plenty to go around, it isn’t going anywhere.” Josh laughed, you laughed too, for a reason unbeknownst the the both of you, before you were laid over in his lap in a fit of giggles. You let your head rest against his thighs as your laughter settled, his hands tangling themselves into your hair.

You could feel the way his stomach rose and fell with his breath.

You shifted so you were looking up at him, only a little bit surprised to find him looking back, eyes glassy, a wide smile across his face as he continued to play with your hair. You smiled at the feeling of his hands, letting your eyes fall shut, laughing softly at the familiar sound of Will Ferrel and John C. Reiley arguing about drum kits. “That’s Sam and Danny,” You stuttered out, laughing at your own joke before it even finished leaving your lips. You watched as Josh threw his head back and laughed loudly, body moving as he did so. He wiped his eyes, taking a breath, before spluttering into laughter once more, you following suit, tears pricking at your eyes.

You loved these moments, blissful, unashamed belly laughs, were sure to cure the things of the world. You quited down, eyes still on Josh, as they always seemed to be lately. He bent over slightly, face resting just above yours. “You are one of a kind, angel.” He breathed, you could feel his breath hitting your lips. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Kiszka, super famous rockstar.” You sighed, eyes flicking down to his lips, and back up to meet his eyes. “Please, you’ve always been the better singer. Writing those songs, just for you to sing them to an empty room. Though, no body would be worthy of hearing a voice as beautiful as yours,” He said softly. You looked away, lips parting. “Sing to me,” Josh said, leaning back, head falling against the couch once more as his fingers resumed their movements in your hair.

“Why are there so many, songs about rainbows…” You started softly, holding back the giggles, “and what’s on the other side,” Josh finished, voice coming out strained and nasally in a poor attempt to mimic kermit the frog. “Rainbows are visions, but only illusions. So we’ve been told and some choose to believe it. I know they’re wrong, wait and see.” Your voice was soft, “Some day we’ll find it, the rainbow connection…” Your voice slowed as Josh leaned back over you, returning to the close proximity. “The lovers, the dreamers, and me,” you finished, blinking slowly at the man above you. You shifted, sitting up, before maneuvering yourself into Josh’s lap. “Am I reading this wrong?” You asked, feeling suddenly bold, the weed taking away your inhibitions. Josh shook his head slowly, leaning in ever so slightly, inviting you to close the gap, and so you did. Your lips met softly, kiss deepening as you got used to the feeling of each other.

The door swung open, banging against the wall, “WHERE’S THE P-“ Sam’s voice bellowed, stoping at the sight of you and Josh in a somewhat compromising position. You pulled away from him, startled at the new presence. “Hey guys,” Josh giggled, “Y/n its supposed to go ‘the lovers, the dreamers and ME’ not ‘the lovers, the dreamers and SAM,” Josh choked out, smile practically breaking his face in half. You squawked, laughter bubbling up from your chest, you leaned into Josh, head falling on his shoulder.

You caught your breath, just for your eyes to land an a semi drunk Sam, Danny, and Jake who were still awkwardly standing in the doorway, making your laughter start up again. “I think we need to be on their level,” Danny says, walking deeper into the house before settling next to you and Josh on the couch. “What so were going to start kissing each other? Revealing deep-seated feelings for each other?” Jake laughed, flopping down on to the rocking chair in the corner. “You have feelings for me?” You whispered, searching Josh’s eyes. “You haven’t told her? Josh what the fu-“ Sam started cut off by Jake and Danny simultaneously shushing him. Josh rolled his eyes, “Way to ruin it Sammy, but yes. Y/n, I like you,” he sighed, “Love, he means love,” Sam interrupted. “Jesus, Sam! We’re having a fucking moment, pack a bowl or something!” You hissed, earning snickers from Jake and Danny, before turning your attention back to Josh. “Yes, I love you. I would give up everything if It meant I would be able to just sing kermit the frog with you, I’d never smoke again if it meant I get to hold you, I’d smoke every day if it meant I get to hold you like this again. Even if it was just for a second,” Josh rambled. You giggled, quieting him with a kiss, “I love you, so much, Josh. I alway have.” You admitted, planting one more kiss on his plush lips. Cheering erupted from the other side of the room. “Finally!” Jake cheered, fake British accent making an appearance as the weed and alcohol mixed.

You smiled and rolled your eyes fondly, resting your forehead on Josh’s. “Can you believe those guys,” Josh scoffed before smirking, “C’mon babe. Pack us another bowl.” You flushed at the nickname, knowing the truth it held. You moved from your straddling position, grabbing the extra bong on the table and packing it, before flopping back down into Josh’s lap, throwing your legs over Danny’s.

That secretive, tender feeling, was now filling up the room, and you couldn’t be happier about it. You and Josh should’ve gotten high together without the boys a lot sooner, but you were looking forward to the new moments you two were going to share, rather than the ones you may have missed out on.

-

hehe i hope yall liked this

[vintageshanny]

Get Your Belt Unloose

This is a smutty little one-shot because I’m obsessed with how sexy he looks in a jumpsuit with no belt. (And you know me - I had to add in a little fluff at the end). Thank you @lookingforrainbows for inspiring me with this picture. ❤️

Content: Elvis On Tour-era (or honestly whatever year you want to picture) backstage hanky panky, 18+

“What’s your name, honey?” The words dripped off Elvis’ tongue as he wiped a sweaty lock of hair off his forehead. He blinked a couple times, his eyes still trying to adjust after an hour of staring into blinding spotlights and flashbulbs.

“Hi Mr. Presley, my name is Sherry. I’m covering your concert for the local newspaper, and I just have a couple questions for you.” The curvy brunette standing before him in a houndstooth dress started rattling off her rehearsed monologue.

“Well, I might have a couple answers for ya honey, but only if ya call me Elvis. That okay, Sherry baby?” Elvis laughed at his own joke and broke into song. “Sherry, Sherry baby! Anyone ever sing that to ya?”

Sherry smiled and bit down on her lower lip. He was so adorably pleased with himself that she didn’t have the heart to tell him that this was the most popular response when she shared her name. Darn those Four Seasons.

“Well, no one as handsome and charming as you.” The flirtatious tone surprised even her. She had been dying to meet Elvis, but her initial plan was to keep things professional until the interview was over, then she would just thank him for, y’know, being himself. She hoped the right words would come in the moment.

Elvis’ smile grew wider as he put his hand on the small of her back and beckoned to a small private room off the busy backstage hallway. “Let’s go somewhere a little quieter so you can ask me those questions.”

“Do you ever get nervous?” Sherry asked as Elvis closed the door behind them. “Nervous to perform I mean?” She tried her best not to focus on a little bead of sweat that had formed in his gray-flecked sideburn and was currently rolling down his neck toward his fuzzy chest.

“Oh yeah, I get nervous all the time. Stage fright I guess they call it. I-I-I mean, I do this all the time, y’know? B-b-but my fans, this could be their only show, so I wanna make sure it’s as perfect as it can be. Y’know what I mean, honey?”

“Definitely.” As she scribbled in her notebook, Sherry’s eyes drifted down to where Elvis’ long fingers deftly unfastened his belt, and she knew all her hopes of professionalism were out the window.

“Ooh boy, that starts ta pinch a lil bit by the end of the night,” he announced, letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling of freedom. “I guess I mighta gained a couple pounds since the last tour.” He hoped his self-deprecating chuckle would cover the very real insecurity, but the way Sherry licked her lips as her eyes stayed glued to his lower half let him know he had nothing to worry about.

“I think you look great!” The fabric of his jumpsuit seemed to mold to every contour of his body, highlighting the creases where his thighs joined to his groin. Without the belt, it was clear that the tiny pooch below his waistline led down to some sort of treasure, the soft bulge impossible to ignore. Something about the erotic nature of the visual summoned a supernatural courage in Sherry. “You don’t have to stop with the belt, y’know.” She relished in the pink hue that overtook Elvis’ complexion as a surprised little smirk spread across his lips.

“Ya always conduct your interviews like this, honey? It’s mighty unprofessional of ya.” He winked to let her know he really didn’t mind if she continued.

Sherry smiled back as she set down her notebook and took a step closer. “There’s a time and place to be professional.” She reached her hand up, letting his sweaty chest hairs tickle the backs of her fingers as she slowly pulled his zipper down as low as it would go, a few inches south of his belly button, most of his white briefs now exposed to her, the bulge inside them more prominent now.

“Wh-what’d ya have in mind for this time and place?” Elvis leaned down and pressed his lips softly against Sherry’s, his hands running down the sides of her breasts to her waist.

“Let me show you,” Sherry murmured into his mouth as she slipped her hand down inside the jumpsuit. Through his briefs, she felt the treasure she’d been searching for - something soft and thick and warm. He started to harden immediately as she rubbed her hand over him. Elvis’ lips parted in a soft moan, and Sherry took the opportunity to lean in and kiss him again, licking his tongue. “You taste sweet,” she whispered.

“Oh, Sherry baby, d-d-don’t tease me,” Elvis groaned. “T-t-touch me for real, honey.”

Sherry pulled open the waistband of his briefs and put her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around him and pumping up and down. She pressed her thumb gently against his tip, which was sticky with precum.

“Oh, goddammit,” Elvis groaned out, his head tilted back and his long graceful neck on display. Sherry leaned in, still pumping his dick, and kissed his neck, letting her teeth nip at him ever so lightly. Then she moved her lips down to where his jumpsuit was gaping open and gave his nipple a lick, sending a shiver through his body. Elvis tilted his head forward now, his eyes closed as he reached around and gripped her butt.

“Oh wow,” Sherry breathed out as she pulled his waistband out so she could get a better look at what she was handling. Between the vibrations of their heartbeats seeming to make the entire room spin and the sight of Elvis’ throbbing pink cock in her hand, Sherry thought she might orgasm right then and there, without even being touched. As if completely in tune with her desires, Elvis’ large warm hand slipped under her short dress and inside her panties, his fingers tracing over her dripping wet folds before penetrating her entrance. He pushed her legs open a little bit more so he could sink in deeper, hitting some magical spot inside of her.

“Oh, oh, Elvis,” Sherry moaned, clenching around his fingers, waves of pleasure making it difficult to even stand, much less keep up her rhythmic pumping inside his underwear.

“Damn, honey, ‘s like a faucet down there. Ya sure were ready for me, hmm?”

Sherry nodded and tried to focus her efforts back on him, her body still reeling from the intensity of the pleasure he gave her. She decided to just really go for it, her heart racing with nerves and desire. She pulled his underwear down in the front, completely exposing his hard dick and hanging balls.

“Aww honey ya ain’t g-g-gotta-” Elvis started to protest but could only watch with lust as she sank down on her knees in front of him, enveloping him in her mouth and gently massaging his balls. “Goddamn,” Elvis groaned and licked her arousal off his fingers as Sherry grabbed his butt and pulled him tighter against her, forcing him deeper into her mouth. She tried to keep her throat relaxed as he panted above her, his dick pulsing, shooting spurts of warm cum into her.

“That was some interview, honey. You’re a forward lil’ thing, ain’t ya?”

Sherry blushed at that and tried not to stare as Elvis tucked himself back in and zipped his jumpsuit halfway up, leaving part of his glistening chest exposed. “Not usually,” she admitted.

“Oh?” Elvis looked surprised. He was usually good at telling who the good girls were and who just wanted to say they’d had Elvis Presley. “This was special for today?”

“This was special for you. I mean, I don’t usually go around doing this, but I just really wanted to make you feel good.” Sherry felt silly trying to explain her feelings for a man she technically just met, but Elvis’ pleased grin calmed her.

“Believe it or not, honey, I don’t usually go around doin’ this either.”

“I do believe you,” Sherry responded with a smile of her own.

“Why’s that?” Elvis’ brow furrowed. Usually people acted shocked to hear he wasn’t with a different woman every night.

“The way you were trembling a little bit when I pulled your zipper down. You seemed almost as nervous as I was.”

“Well, what did I tell ya? Stage fright,” Elvis laughed. “I hope I made ya feel good too, baby.”

“You know you did,” Sherry laughed. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so good, to be honest,” she added with a blush. “What you might not know is that you make me feel good all the time.” Elvis looked at her quizzically, waiting for an explanation. “My life has been, well, very painful at times, and when I hear you sing, it makes me happy. I actually begged my editor for this assignment so I could tell you how much you mean to me. I didn’t necessarily intend to throw myself at you, but you’re kind of irresistible,” she finished with an embarrassed little smile.

“Wow, honey, that’s real sweet of ya ta say.” Elvis blinked before a tear could roll down his cheek. “You don’t know how much it means ta hear ya say all that. Maybe now we’re even with makin’ each other feel good.”

“Elvis, I could touch you and, um, uh, kiss you like that every day and it would never be enough to make us even. You deserve…everything,” Sherry whispered, a blush spreading over her face.

“Hmm,” Elvis pondered. “Every day? Ya think ya’d have the energy for that?”

Sherry giggled and gave him a playful shove. “I’d do anything for you.”

Elvis smiled a sweet crooked grin. “Well, let’s say I need ya ta make me feel good again. How do I go about findin’ ya?”

Sherry grabbed her long-forgotten notebook and scribbled down her name and phone number.

“What’re ya gonna write about me in your article?” Elvis asked as they headed back into the hallway.

“The truth. That watching you perform was the best night of my life. And you’d do anything to please your fans.” Sherry gave a little wink to make sure her innuendo wouldn’t be lost. Elvis laughed and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

As they parted ways, Sherry didn’t know if she’d ever see him like this again, but she did know that this memory would last a lifetime.

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