#but it was a really good fucking prompt so i will absolutely be getting to it
Note
Hello!!
Love your writing!!
I seen your post for prompts..
If possibly can you do Eddie x slightly thicker best friend...
Maybe sees her upset with her body or something
The numbers that popped into my mind thinking of this was any of the following ahaha
10,18,44, 47-50 😅😅
Thanks so much, lovely! I love this request!
cw: MDNI 18+ smut (p in v), mention of fatphobia
You stood in the dressing room of a store that you didn’t want to go into wearing a dress that no one was ever going to see you in. It was short and black and clung to your body in a way that didn’t feel right. You were so used to covering up your body in baggy clothing that it felt weird seeing every curve. You were always covering it up so you couldn’t even remember what it had looked like.
You had always hated shopping, never being able to find anything in your size and even if you had, it was always somehow too small. It always ended with you crying while you looked at your body in the mirror so you just ended up buying your clothes online to avoid the embarrassment.
Eddie had chosen the tiny number for you, assuring you that you would look hot, but also made sure that you knew that you didn’t have to if you were uncomfortable. You tried to hype yourself up, but all you could hear was the comments that your mother always made.
Is that really what you’re wearing?
You could stand to lose a few pounds.
Are you sure you want to eat that?
People had always made fun of your weight and as much you didn’t want to believe them, how could you not have? It seemed like no matter what you did to feel good in your skin, you couldn’t seem to shake all of the fatphobia you had experienced.
Eddie had been the only one who had made you feel even slightly better about yourself. He always made sure you felt good, whether it was telling you how nice you looked in your clothes, especially when you were wearing something that clung to your body or giving one of your thighs a loving squeeze when you would sit next to him.
He knew that his assuring words and gentle touches weren’t a cure since the wounds were so deep, but he had hoped you knew that he was telling the truth. If anything, your body was just more that he could love. If ever got the balls to make a move.
There was a knock on the door and you panicked, knowing that Eddie was on the other side. You grabbed your jacket from the hook and were quick to throw it on, zipping it up so the dress was completely covered.
“Who is it?” You asked, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.
“It’s Eddie. Can I come in?” You opened the door and he slipped inside, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes moved to your jacket.
“You okay?” He asked, just knowing that something was up with you. He was always able to read you like a book.
“I’m good,” you nodded, crossing your arms over your chest so you could hide your body even more. “It’s just tight.”
“Oh, do you need to size up?” For once, that hadn’t been your problem. The dress had fit like a glove but you just didn’t have the confidence to wear it. It would end up back on the rack with all the other clothes you couldn’t get yourself to wear.
“It’s not that, it’s tight. You can see the outline of my body. I mean, it leaves nothing up to the imagination.”
“Well now I have to see it.” You slowly unzipped the jacket and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. Eddie’s jaw dropped as his eyes scanned over your body.
He thought you looked fucking hot and couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like to press his lips to yours while the dress fell to the floor. He had been fantasizing about kissing you for so long.
“You look fucking amazing.” His eyes were filled with something that you couldn’t quite make out and were unsure of what it meant.
“I do?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Eddie just kept staring at the dress, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes darkening.
“Absolutely,” he nodded enthusiastically. “You have to get it.” You wanted to, but you were unsure if you could actually go through with it.
“You mean it?” You gave him a small smile and he just nodded again.
“You know I’d never lie to you, sweetheart.” That much was true. Eddie would have never lied to you and you knew that. He was always honest even if the words weren’t what you wanted to hear.
“I’m just afraid of what people will think.” His eyebrows knit together at that. It hurt him hearing that coming from you. He had been trying to work with you on your confidence and you were slowly making progress.
“The only thing that matters is what you think,” he rested his hands on your shoulders. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to get it.” The more you thought about his words, the more you wanted to make the purchase. You liked the way he was looking at you when you wore it.
“So you really think I look good?” He really did. So much so that he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to press his lips to your neck, hearing pretty moans escape your mouth.
“I mean, fucking hot would be my preferred choice of words.” His eyes got even more dark, filled with lust. He was trying to not think about how hard he was.
“Eddie-” You were caught off guard by how forward he was being. If he had it his way, he would have had his way with you right then and there, but he didn’t exactly think that a dressing room was a place to do it.
“If you don’t buy it,” he stepped forward, resting his hands on your hips. “I will.” He reached up and hooked his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. His lips brushed yours briefly before he pulled away.
“Why?” You could hardly get the words out, your brain short circuiting from the different kind of attention you were getting from him. And you were eating it up. You wanted more.
“Because as much as I’d like to see you in it,” he paused, leaning over so his lips were right by your ear. “I’d love even more to see you out of it.” Your face went hot at his words. You had never had anyone say those kinds of things to you, let alone even wanted to actually have sex with you.
As soon as the words left his mouth, you shooed him out of the dressing room and he reluctantly went. You changed back into the outfit you had come in. You then draped the dress over your arm and exited the dressing room, making your way to the counter.
You purchased the dress and you and Eddie exited the store, heading to his van. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you up into the seat before closing the door and heading to the driver’s side.
He started up the van and cranked up the metal tape that he had put in before picking you up. He was driving faster than normal, almost flooring it as he drove and you were just grateful that you had been on an empty backroad as opposed to the busy highway.
You both soon pulled up to his trailer, the two of you sat in silence and you noticed that he wasn’t making any move to exit the van. You turned to each other at the same time. You looked at him in confusion as to why he wasn’t moving and he looked at you with lust filled eyes again.
He leaned closer to you, your faces only centimeters apart. You looked up at him from underneath your eyelashes and he gave you a smile in return. He reached up and moved some hair away from your face before resting his hand on your cheek.
“Can I try something?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You bit down on your lip and nodded, knowing exactly what he was getting at.
“Yes,” you responded and he grinned, his smile reaching his warm brown eyes.
He leaned forward slowly, gently capturing your top lip between his two. Your lips moved together as one as your hands moved to his arms and his free hand rested on your thigh, the space where it usually made a home.
He pulled away before you were ready and smiled at you, resting his forehead against yours. The pad of his thumb rubbed gently along your cheek as your eyes stared into his warm brown ones.
“Eddie, I’m not wearing the dress anymore,” you told him, turning away to stare at the dashboard. He hooked his finger under your chin once more, making you look at him.
“Sweetheart, this has nothing to do with the dress.” He licked his lips. “Can’t you see how badly I want you?” His eyes bored into yours and even though you knew there was truth to his words, you couldn’t quite believe him.
“You want me?” Your eyes widened at that. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes and he could have sworn he heard his heart break at your reaction to his confession.
“Honey, I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.” You had no idea. All the signs were there and you had no fucking clue. He had been so obvious and you had only just now connected the dots.
“You have?” You honestly weren’t sure how to react. No one had ever wanted you, or at least, they hadn’t been so up front about it like Eddie had.
And you wanted him too. He was your best friend and you couldn’t have imagined being with anyone else. He was the one who was always there for you. He had been there for you every step of the way. He had loved you for exactly who you were and you loved him the exact same way.
“I have,” he nodded, his hand moving into your hair. “So badly.” The words came out almost like a whimper.
“I want you too,” you responded, your words running together. He pressed his lips to yours once more, this one more desperate than the first one. His hand wound its way further into your hair, pressing into your scalp. Your hands grasped at his shirt, balling it in your fists as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip.
“A bit eager, are we?” He asked with a chuckle.
“Shut up,” you commanded before diving back in. Your tongue moved back to his lip and he opened up, letting you in. Your tongues swirled together, his hand trailing up your skirt. His other one grabbed a fistful of your hair, giving it a yank and you let out a whimper at the feeling.
“Wanna make that sound again, sweetheart?” He asked, needing to hear it one more time.
“More,” was all you were able to respond and he gave your hair another yank, a little harder this time. A full on moan escaped from your lips and he was desperate to hear more from you. He needed to hear you scream for him.
He pulled away from you, looking into your eyes. He could see that you wanted more, but he felt the need to ask before he continued. He wanted to make absolutely sure that you wanted it as much as he did. That he had your full permission.
“Do you trust me?” He asked, his hand stroking your hair gently.
“Of course I do, Eds,” you nodded.
“Don’t want to move things to the back?” He nodded his head in that direction.
“Please,” you begged. He let go of you completely and you already missed his touch.
“Ladies first,” he gestured to the back of the van with his hands. You slowly got onto your knees in the passenger seat before throwing your leg in between the two seats. You made it into the back safely and Eddie wasn’t that far behind you. The blanket beneath you had been meant for a picnic for the two of you, definitely not for you to have sex.
You moved so close that your knees were touching and he reached for your hands, looking into your eyes. They were soft and warm, the look that had been reserved for you and you alone.
“I know this is your first time so before we do this, I want you to know that you can back out at any time and I won’t be mad,” he brought your hands up to his mouth and brushed them with his lips.
“I’ll be there with you every step of the way, alright? So feel free to do whatever feels natural. Let me know what makes you feel good, what you like.” He pressed a kiss to each hand before interlacing your fingers.
“Okay,” you replied, feeling your heart race in your chest as you realized what you were about to do. You were about to have sex with your best friend. You were about to have sex with Eddie.
“Do you want to move to my lap to get more comfortable?” He asked, rubbing your knuckles with the pads of his thumbs. You looked at him, unsure, your eyebrows furrowing.
“Aren’t I going to crush you?” You knew that you were bigger than him so you didn’t think it was wrong to ask.
“Crush me?” Eddie let out a chuckle. He actually kind of liked the sound of that. “No, honey. You’ll be just fine. Now c’mere.” He patted his lap and you hesitantly moved closer to him. You lowered yourself onto his lap so you were straddling his waist and his hands rested on your thighs, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
“Are you ready?” He asked, gauging your face for any last minute hesitance. Your eyes were lit up with excitement and he could tell that you were just as eager as he was.
“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m ready.”
“I’m just going to kiss you for now, okay? I’m warming you up.” He wanted this to be an enjoyable experience for you and wanted to take his time to make you feel good.
“Okay.” His hands let go of your thighs, moving up to your hips. He pecked your lips a few times before covering them with his once more and they moved in sync while your arms wrapped around his neck. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip and you opened your mouth and he slipped it inside letting it move with your own as his arms wrapped around your waist tightly.
His hands slowly started to trail down your waist and up your shirt, his palms laying flat against your lower back. They were cool and rough, but you liked the feeling, wondering if he was going to leave scratch marks.
“Can I take this off?” He asked, moving his hands to fiddle with your bottom hem.
“Yes,” you nodded eagerly and he slowly pulled it over your head before tossing it to the side. He then attached his lips to yours once more, taking no time to stick his tongue back into your mouth.
His hands were then on your back again, slowly moving them to your bra. His lips pressed kissed to your cheek all the way down to your neck, stopping at the spot below your ear. He sucked lightly on the skin before grazing it with his teeth.
“Oh,” you let out a moan and he loved hearing the sound come from your lips.
“That was a beautiful sound, honey, wanna make it again?”
“Yes,” you whined and his teeth grazed your neck once more, harder this time and you let out a louder moan.
“Oh, Eddie.” He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth in that way. It sounded so filthy and hot and he needed more of it.
“That’s right, honey, say my name.” He diffused the sting with a swipe of his tongue and the sensation caused you to let out a whimper.
“Eddie,” you whined. “Need you.”
“I know,” he gave your lips a gentle kiss. “We’re almost there.” His lips moved back up to yours and captured them in a bruising kiss while he moved his hands up to your bra. “Gonna lay you down, okay? Can I remove this?”
“Yes.” Your eyes were lustful and he loved seeing the look on you. So different from your usual innocent self. He removed his own shirt before he unhooked your bra and threw it to the side then laid you down onto the blanket. His eyes widened as he stared at your naked upper half in awe. His lips parted as he took in all of you; your curves, your breasts, your stretch marks. He always knew you were stunning, but seeing you like this, he was convinced that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
You had never been naked like this in front of anyone and you hadn’t really been thinking about how it made you feel as Eddie looked down at you. You could see that he was doing nothing but admiring your body, but you just felt so vulnerable.
“Fuck,” he said, the word falling from his lips before he realized what he had said. You quickly covered yourself with part of the blanket, making sure to pull it over your face so he couldn’t see you.
“Hey, don’t go shy on me,” he said gently, trying to calm you down. “You look so pretty like this.”
You pulled the blanket back down slowly so he could at least see your face again. His face was nothing but loving and you could tell he was telling the truth. He thought your naked body was pretty.
“Really?” Your cheeks burned at his compliment and all he could do was chuckle at how adorable you were. Eddie never said anything he didn’t believe.
“Of course, baby,” he assured you. “I’m going to fucking worship you.” His voice was deeper as he said the last sentence, more raspy and your pussy was getting even more wet.
“Worship me?” Your lips parted as you gingerly removed the blanket, laying back down on it. He slowly lowered himself down onto you, gently pressing his lips to yours.
“Worship,” he gave your lips a peck. “You,” he captured your top lip between his two in a brief kiss before moving his lips down your neck in open mouthed kisses. They made their way to your breast and he was quick to swipe his tongue along your nipple before he pulled it between his teeth, giving it a tug.
“Oh,” you let out a moan, louder this time and he took that as an invitation to do it again, but harder. Your moan was even louder, and your hands moved to his back, giving it a hard scratch with your nails. He let out a whimper before moving to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment.
“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned again and he gave one last tug, the hardest he could without actually hurting you and you let out the loudest moan yet. “God, Eddie, please.” Your nails scratched down his back again and he let out his own moan. It was soft but raspy and it sounded so hot.
He moved his kisses down your stomach and he stopped once he got to your skirt. He looked up at you in approval and you looked down at him, your eyes darkening as you thought about what he was going to do.
“Remove them,” you commanded and he kind of liked that you were bossing him around.
“Yes, ma’am.” He slid the skirt down your legs and tossed it behind him and went for your underwear, removing those as well. He looked down at your sopping wet pussy, eating up the fact that it was all because of him.
“Well, look at you, princess,” he looked up at you with a devilish grin. “Didn’t know I could get anyone that wet,” he winked.
“Eddie,” you let out another whine.
“What, baby?” He said the words so innocently, as if he had no idea what he was doing. He loved the idea of making you wait a little longer.
“Need your cock.” You were getting desperate and hated how needy you were starting to sound.
“I know, sweetheart. Just give me a second.” He hurried to his glove box and grabbed a condom before coming back to you. He quickly pulled off his pants, deciding that he had made you wait long enough and tossed them to the side. He then removed his underwear just as quickly, revealing all of himself to you.
You stared down at his cock, realizing that you had never seen one in person. It was bigger than you had imagined, better. He rolled the condom onto his dick and grabbed hold of your hips before lining himself up with your cunt.
He slowly thrusted into you, wanting to be as gentle as possible since it had been your first time. You let out a moan at the sensation, and Eddie leaned over you, that devilish grin making a reappearance.
“You look so pretty under me,” he said as he continued to thrust, picking up the pace. “Prettiest partner I’ve ever had.”
“You say that to all your partners.”
“I don’t because none of them have ever been as pretty as you.” Your cheeks turned even more pink at his compliment. He always knew exactly what to say to make you blush.
“Trying to get into my pants, Munson?”
“Afraid I’m already in them, sweetheart.” He continued to thrust and as much as you were enjoying it, you didn’t think he was being rough enough. You needed more.
“Very funny. Now do it harder,” you commanded.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He didn’t want to risk hurting you during your first time.
“You won’t. Just do it.” He obeyed and pounded into you, causing you to let out what almost sounded like a scream. His dick hardened even more at the sound.
“Oh,” he chucked. “I like the sound of that. Wanna make it again?”
“I will if you go faster,” you promised.
“As you wish.” He pounded into you once more, but faster and you made the exact same sound, only louder. He continued and you let out moan after moan as he went to town.
You grabbed onto him, burying your face into his neck as he continued to pound into you. Your hands went to his back and you scratched it up even more at his actions and he let out his own moans, throwing his head back as he did so.
“Trying to ruin my back, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you fluttered your eyelashes in innocence.
“Good,” he pressed his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue taking no time to swirl around yours. “Got one more in you, honey?”
“Yes, Eds.” He pounded into you one more time and you let out one final moan before he pulled out. He discarded the condom and grabbed some napkins from the glove compartment before helping you clean yourself up.
Once you had finished, he pulled the blanket back to reveal another one under it. You both slipped between the two of them and he was quick to pull you to him, bare skin against bare skin. One of his hands moved up to brush some sweaty hair away from your forehead before stroking the back of your head. His other hand rested on your waist while yours went to his chest.
“You did so great, baby girl,” he gave you a sweet smile. “Took me so well.”
“Well, I think you’re just good at it,” you batted your eyelashes. “It definitely lived up to the hype.”
“So you’ve thought about it?” He teased with a wink.
“Oh, don’t pretend you haven’t,” you winked back and he just gave your hip a little pinch, causing you to let out a squeal.
“I definitely have,” he responded, pressing his lips to yours. “And it was well worth the wait.” He pulled you into one more kiss and you were quick to return it, knowing that there would definitely be more where that came from.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x plus size reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff
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"instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating" but with either brim or jam maybe? 👀👀 (last prompt absolutely gutted me btw it was SO good)
holy fuck i could have SWORN this was meant to be like 500 words. nope. another 1k oneshot . hopefully you'll enjoy :D this ones a lot sweeter than the other one
(ask game here)
~~~~~~~~~~
Alex knew Brian and Tim were close. Brian is one of Alex's closest friends, and he knew about Tim a long while before he met the man. Alex first met him when Brian was 'auditioning' for the part of Brian, the main character in his film he was making. (Brian already had the part, in Alex's mind. Alex heavily based the character of his friend, and named the role after him.)
Don't get Alex wrong, Tim was an attractive man. He just… he wasn't Alex's type. He seemed very… nervous, talking to most people, his back stiff and arms crossed. Alex really only saw the man's guard get let down when he was off to the side, having a short, private chat with Brian. And Alex didn't think anything of it — why would he?
No, Alex was far more interested in his long term friend. He had talked to Jay, one time, when it was late into the night. They probably should have been asleep, but instead, Alex was talking about Brian.
"It's just, he gives me the butterflies, like Amy used to," Alex said, laying on his back and staring at the popcorn ceiling of his room.
"So you have a crush on him?" Jay asked, his head tilting to the side, like it always does when he was curious or interested in something. Alex shook his head, "no, I can't have one. I know he swings both ways, but he's my friend. I've known him almost as long as I've known you."
Jay chuckled, leaning back on his elbows, looking to Alex. "That doesn't mean much, dude. If he makes you feel like you felt for Amy, I think that's a pretty big sign," he smiles.
But Alex can't have a crush on Brian, right?
Yeah, the man makes his stomach flip, and pretty, and he makes Alex laugh, and…
Oh.
Oh.
Alex had a crush on Brian.
Alex had a crush on Brian, and Jay was the one who helped him realize.
He let out a groan, blush blooming from his face as Alex tried to hide himself. Jay laughed at him, patting him on his shoulder. "Maybe you should ask him out. It looks like he feels the same for you too, dude."
"I just found out I liked him, I can't just — ask him out like that!" Alex huffed, voice muffled by his hands.
"Why not? Someone else might ask him out first! Imagine if like, he and Sarah got together," Jay laughed quietly, to which Alex groaned again, muttering a 'shut up' and throwing a pillow on him.
Some days have passed now, and Alex could only focus on the fact that he liked Brian. After shooting, Alex had made a plan to ask Brian — er, well, at least tell him. Maybe explain and hope production of Marble Hornets wouldn't be awkward if Alex explained why he couldn't look at Brian without getting flustered.
Once filming for the day was done, Brian and Tim were talking quietly as Seth put the camera away, and Sarah and Jay talked. It was a pretty full day, with all of the crew around. (Sarah even decided to stay and watch after her scenes were done!)
Alex walked over to Brian and Tim, and their conversation pauses as he got closer. "Hey man! What's up?" Brian asks.
"Could I talk to you for a moment? Uh, privately?" Alex asked, and he felt his blush already starting to rise. Brian looks back to Tim, who simply shrugged.
"Yeah, of course. Lead the way!" Brian smiled, and god, was the man pretty. Alex shook his head. The two walked a bit further from the set — out of earshot of everyone else. "Uh, I'm not in trouble or anything, right? Not firing me or anything?" Brian laughs, putting an easy smile on Alex's face.
"No, no. Nothing of the sort. It's, uh…" Alex paused, as if thinking of the words of his scrambled brain. "It's more… personal, I guess."
Brian's eyebrows tilt in concern. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah — It's, yeah." Alex took a deep breath. "Brian, I — I like you."
His face must be so red. He can't make eye contact, instead staring down into the grass. The silence washes over them, and god, Alex ruined everything, didn't he?
"Oh my god," Brian giggles after a second, which felt like an eternity, "God, Alex, I like you too. Did you really not pick up any of the signs?"
"You… what?" Alex feels like his brain broke. Brian liked him too? Brian had been leaving signs?
"Yeah man!" Brian grinned. "I've liked you, for like, forever now. You never did anything so I didn't think you liked me back."
Alex laughs at himself. Of course. "Ah, in that case… are you free this weekend..?"
"Alex Kralie, are you asking me out on a date?"
"If you could be inclined to join me, then… yes?"
"I would love to. I'll have to ask Tim, to see if he's okay with it." Huh? "We've talked briefly about it, but I'll have to double check if we can get serious, too."
"What?" Alex asked. "Why — Why do you have to ask Tim?"
Brian's eyebrows now curl in confusion. "Because… me and Tim are dating?"
"What?"
Brian giggles, breath whistling quietly from the gap in his teeth. "Me and Tim have been together for like, two or three years!"
"And you — you didn't tell anyone?" Embarrassment and shame flushes through Alex. He asked out a taken man.
"We… we did, didn't we?" Brian says, seemingly to himself. "I thought we did. Was it not obvious? I've literally gushed about him for hours."
"I just— I thought you guys were friends — Sorry, I should go—" Alex was about to turn around and leave, but Brian took his hand into his own.
"Hey, dude, it's fine. I'm poly, y'know? I have two hands. I like you too, did you just forget that?" Brian giggles lightly. "Please don't run away from me 'cause of this, Alex. I'm like, ninety-nine percent sure Tim's okay with this."
They talked it out, talked to Tim, and everything was okay.
And, well, besides.
Brian does have two hands for a reason.
#adude.writes#marble hornets#alex kralie#tim wright#jay merrick#brian thomas#brilex#i think thats correct?#brim#ship fic#eeee hope you enojy !!!!! im glad you liked the other one too :DD !!!! AHH#how do these fics keep getting out of my control LMAO#theyre meant to be small drabbles.... how do they get longer than actual works ive been doing LMAO
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DHMIS Headcannons
No one judge me for making these, I’m already doing that myself so we’ve got that front covered
Red Guy:
Acts completely above it and like he doesn’t care, but in reality he cannot take tickling for the life of him.
Not the most ticklish out of them *looks directly at Yellow Guy* but definitely up there. Doesn’t laugh or squirm that much, it’s more of a curl up in a ball and try to muffle his giggles in his arms or shoulder type deal.
Fairly decent at holding in his laughter at first, and a lot of people think he’s not ticklish because of it. However, if you keep at one spot for long enough you’ll see his composure slowly crumble.
Very observant when it comes to this stuff, much to the annoyance of the others. Duck likes to act like it doesn’t affect him, and Red calls him out on it every single time.
Also, apparently he has teeth? So anyways, ticklish neck bites with Duck are a thing.
He’s super contradictory, because he himself can talk about the Thing all he wants, and will bring it up just to fuck with them, but the second someone else starts talking about it, he gets really nervous and fidgety and will attempt to subtly leave the room.
It’s his neck guys. That’s what you gotta go for. Don’t ask me why, the knowledge has simply been imported into my brain.
Will tickle Yellow Guy when the other’s feeling down and fucking demolish Duck just for funsies.
He has a blog for the Thing and Duck found it once, and he’s never been able to live that down.
Yellow Guy:
“What? Me? Ticklish? No, of course I’m not” followed by awkward laughs that are a dead give away. Spoiler alert, he absolutely fucking is.
Unlike Red Guy, he cannot sit still for the life of him when tickled and you’re liable to get kicked in the face or swatted by a stray arm if you try. He doesn’t do it on purpose either, he simply cannot handle it.
Despite this, he actually doesn’t mind getting tickled, and has shyly asked Red Guy to do it to him from time to time. He’s considered asking Duck before, but usually concludes that the ridicule he’d receive wouldn’t be worth it.
HOWEVER Duck is the one who tickles him the most. Usually because he’s being annoying, or to prove a point, or simply because Duck thinks its funny how susceptible he is to it (and maybe he likes how his laughter brightens the house and how happy he looks afterwards but we don’t talk about that).
As stated before, Yellow Guy is 100% the most ticklish out of their group.
Giggles before he’s even tickled, very weak to the whole “hover your hands over a spot” trick.
Tries to put up a tough front, key word being “tries”.
Tickles the others all the fucking time because he has no sense of self-preservation (Red Guy lets him, but Duck is this close to straight up homicide)
Duck:
Will swear up and down on his mother’s grave that he’s not ticklish and will inflict harm on those who try, with his friends being the only exception.
In my perfect world, Duck and Red Guy are dating (it’s totally definitely canon, don’t worry about it), and as a result, Red Guy is the only one who knows the extent of just how ticklish Duck is.
Yellow Guy tickles him often, but he’s never able to get very far before Duck nearly takes off his head. Red Guy has gotten more luck with it, and teases him with it constantly, coming up behind him to squeeze his sides or wiggle fingers against his neck. Duck will let out this panicked shriek that makes it sound like he’s being murdered and Red Guy will raise a brow, as if he didn’t just invoke that, like, “I don’t know what you’re getting so worked up about”.
Claims he hates being tickled lies.
Worst spot are his sides for sure, he can only handle being tickled there for so long.
Head scratches from Red Guy usually end in tickly fingers running over his neck and back, and he has to hold himself back from giggling like an idiot throughout it.
The biggest ler out of the group, and the meanest too. He’ll use teasing like it’s a fucking weapon, and is scarily good at finding the tactics that works best for each of them.
The only person who can make Red Guy blush (though it’s difficult to tell, even then, for,,,, obvious reasons)
#dont hug me im scared#tickle headcannon#red guy#yellow guy#duck#duck x red guy#dhmis#tickling#headcannons#this is what ive spent my time on instead of tickletober#i will be doing the prompt for today eventually just#not#like#TODAY#but it was a really good fucking prompt so i will absolutely be getting to it
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An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.
Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.
So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?
Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.
If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.
ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.
The second reason you shouldn't do it?
IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.
I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.
Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.
Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.
Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.
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messy chaotic ‘we’re terrible for each other but can’t keep our hands off each other’ prompts
oh hello i am in fact alive
“do you ever actually think before speaking? like is your brain capable of processing a thought??” “yeah, it’s just immune to idiotic ones”
“take that back” “prove me wrong” (or; a cliché ‘make me’)
being in some sort of intense slightly pointless staring match (after an argument, preferably) and just saying “oh fuck it who cares” and pulling their neck down to kiss them
“do you the sex would be boring if we didn’t argue before it every time?” “i mean, we could always argue during”
^or, alt: doing it once when you’re not arguing instead kinda tipsy but not drunk, and it’s all giggles and laughter and sweet nothings and the next morning being like “oh fuck i actually like them”
“why does everything with you have to be so difficult!?” “it’s fun getting you all riled up”
“oh, if i had known that’s all it would take for you to shut up i would’ve done this ages ag-“ “only finish that sentence if you have a death wish”
“you’re doing it wrong” “jesus, would you just relax” “no because i’m wasting my tim- oh, oh my god-” the other character smirking, “don’t look so smug” “i think i’ve earned the right, now just trust me, okay? believe it or not, i want to make you feel good”
“so you’ll finally stop being an asshole and just sign the document?” “keep doing this and i’ll sell you my house”
getting jealous and the other character pretending that it’s unreasonable, but secretly character A is the only one they feel a spark with. the only one they feel excited to be around
“we should probably stop this” “yeah” … “we’re not going to though, right?” “oh absolutely not”
“nope no nada, no using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore”
“you really are a fucking asshole aren’t you?” “yes, i believe that’s what’s on my resume”
“i hate you” “i know” “and that won’t change” “i know” “and you’re still okay with this?” no “yes”
“imagine a universe where we didn’t hate each other, that would be so-“ “boring?” “yeah! like imagine not bickering over tiny things, that’s no fun”
“she says we bicker like an old married couple”
talking with a friend; “you shouldn’t go there” “i know” “and you shouldn’t sleep with them” “i know” “it’s a bad idea” “i know” “well. will you?” “..yeah”
“i know we’re terrible for each other but every time i look at them it’s just like my brain flies out the window and my hormones take over”
“we’re broken up, it’s just two friends going out for drinks, okay?” ending up in one’s bed, but alright
“did you sleep together?” “noooo, i just-“ “tripped on a stone and accidentally dailed his number which magically led to you two meeting at a pub and you just magically teleported to your bedroom without your clothes on? yeah, thought so”
#dialogue prompt#imagine your otp#dialogue snippet#otp dialogue#otp incorrect quotes#otp prompts#otp ship#romance#romance prompts#story prompt#writing#writing prompt#writing prompts#writblr#fluff#fluff prompts#love prompts#flirty banter#kiss prompts#flirty#suggestive#enemies prompts#friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#smut prompts#exes to lovers#exes to lovers prompts#romance prompt#fwb prompt#making up prompts
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The Neighbor
Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)
Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.
There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.
Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.
His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.
She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.
He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.
The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.
And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.
But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.
The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.
For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.
He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.
That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.
So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?
John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.
He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.
It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.
The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.
“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.
“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”
John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.
If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.
“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.
“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.
“Get out.”
Oh.
John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.
Good fucking girl.
“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.
“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”
For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.
There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.
And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.
The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.
John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.
There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’
He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”
Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.
She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.
It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.
The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.
Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.
She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.
John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.
Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.
John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.
What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.
The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.
He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.
Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.
So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.
He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.
“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.
Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.
It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.
She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.
Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.
“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.
“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”
Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.
She doesn’t.
In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.
John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.
They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.
It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.
“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.
“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.
“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.
Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.
By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.
She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.
The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.
Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.
He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.
He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.
There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.
The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.
The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.
“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.
Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.
“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”
He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.
“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.
Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.
“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.
Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.
The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.
His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.
As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.
Well. That simply won’t do.
The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.
He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.
“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”
“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.
To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.
“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”
Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.
He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.
It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.
But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.
She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.
Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.
More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.
“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.
“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.
He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.
“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.
He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.
He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.
Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.
Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.
Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.
“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.
He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.
“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”
Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.
“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.
The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.
A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.
As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.
“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.
“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.
He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.
The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.
“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.
“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.
His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.
She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.
Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.
Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.
His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.
“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.
“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”
Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.
“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.
She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.
“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.
“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.
She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.
It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.
It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”
He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.
Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.
Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.
John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.
“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.
“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.
“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.
“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”
He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.
John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.
He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.
Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.
And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.
He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.
Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.
“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”
“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”
“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”
The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…
Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.
“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”
“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“
“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”
“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”
“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”
“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”
“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”
“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”
Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.
“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”
The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.
John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.
But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.
The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.
Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.
She’s awake.
“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.
She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.
“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.
She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”
It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.
Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.
Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.
He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
#ocaptainchallenge#john price x reader#captain john price#price x reader#cod x reader#x reader#implied plus size reader#take a shot every time john calls the reader pretty#but dont or youll get alcohol poisoning#also I used ‘turn into a chew toy’ 3 times and I dont care :)#my writing
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Hi hun! I just love love love your pieces <3
As for Carmy prompts - could we have some hurt to comfort when Carmen doesn't show up for a date? It's ok if you dont wanna do it or i requested incorrectly, but if you do, i cant wait to read!!!!! Thank you so much mwah mwah mwah
I’m not thaaaaaat sure how I feel about this and it’s so long but your request was so sweet I had to!!! Ily <3333
wc:1.1k
There’s so fucking much in his ear. Fak’s screaming whatever bullshit he’s sure will help absolutely nothing, Richie’s harassing Sydney and Tina’s trying to keep them all in line and will of that goddamn chaos, he shouldn’t be able to make out anything.
Prepping this whole thing, the opening, Richie biting his head off for fucking sending him to the best kitchen in the city- it’s all a bit fucking much.
He barely hears the door open (she has a key, because of course she does) and he doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he calls out her name.
“Hey, baby,” he yells back towards the entrance. It feels good, chopping the vegetables. It’s actually one of her favorite dishes that he’s making, and something inside him preens that he gets to feed her tonight. Everything feels illustrious under her gaze. He remembers the first time he’d cooked for her, how her watchful gaze felt a bit like sunlight; equal parts burning and doused in light.
She’d said she liked his hands, then. Said he looked pretty with a knife and a cutting board. “Will you try this sauce for me?”
He hears her heels click, the soft thud of her purse landing on the couch. It’s a slow saunter she does to him, but he’s razor focused- what does it need, garlic? Oregano?
It only breaks when he sees her. And she looks gorgeous. Wearing a black dress with a cowl neck, shimmery eyeshadow that catches and dances in the low light of the kitchen, a crimson lipstick neatly applied to her beautiful pout.
She smells like vanilla, and Carmen has the privilege of knowing what real, rich, Madagascar vanilla smells like. He’d loved the scent so much that he’d bought her a perfume made from it, and there’s a warmth blooming in his chest when he realizes that she’s wearing it.
Wordlessly, she opens her mouth and leans forward to try the sauce covered wooden spoon he’d raised to her lips.
Even when she’s in front of him, he can’t believe she’s someone he knows. That she’s wasting her time with someone like him.
“Jesus Christ you look beautiful,” he says without thinking, and he kisses her quick. It’s true. She’s a vision, plucked out of an old movie shot on grainy film, warm to the touch film.
He abandons the spoon and the sauce without much fanfare, a rough, calloused hand meeting her soft warm cheek.
“Thanks, Carmen.” she says, but her doe-eyes deny the joy she typically exudes in his presence. It’s his proudest achievement, how she glows around him. She’s tight lipped, smile betraying her words.
“What’s wrong? Is it the sauce? I know it’s a mess in here, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d see it-“
“No! No, seriously, it’s okay, honey.” She tries to insist but it really doesn’t work. He moves the pot off the burner and twists himself completely to face her, placing a gentle hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He tries not to let it sting, how she stiffens for a moment before softening again.
“What happened?” He asks again.
“It’s the first,” she says, a rueful grin on her pretty lips, before gesturing down at her outfit, and oh.
The dinner. The fucking dinner that he’d promised her. His sweet girl, who waited up every night, who dutifully tasted every recipe, who soothed him on nights where nightmares stole his sleep-
“Fuck,” he says, more to himself than her, but god, he can’t stop looking at her, “Fuck! God, I’m such an asshole, I’m so sorry-“ he insists, suddenly so grateful that she’s letting him touch her, even more aware of every point of contact with the sudden fear that it could escape in a moment’s notice.
“Y’know, Carm, if you could’ve just told me that would’ve been one thing? But I left the reservation, and this was the one night we both had off!”
“I know, baby, fuck, I forgot-“
She backs away from him, and there’s a sick feeling in his stomach. Sitting on the chair he keeps by the stove (he put it there for her, because she loved watching him) she pinches the bridge of her nose.
“It’s just not fair, Carm. To either of us. If you don’t have time for this-“
“I have time for this! I have time. Don’t say things like that.”
“Carmy, I’m not trying to hurt you. You know that’s the last thing I want.”
And it is. It’s the last thing she wants, and Carmen fucking knows it. Knows that three months in he’s supposed to have brought her flowers and taken her out and done more than cook for her and spend hours in his shitty apartment, and lately she’s been asking if he has time for being in a relationship.
And maybe he doesn’t, but fuck it if he doesn’t feel like he can breathe around her. This was the point of the dinner- take her out, be a boyfriend. Have her wait a little while on him. Show her he’s worth it.
Instead he fucking missed it, stayed home and made sauce no one would even eat.
“I’m sorry,” he says, grabbing her hand and lacing it through his own. It always shocks him, how it fits his own. “Okay? I’m so, so fuckin’ sorry. Tell me what I can do. Tell me, cos I’ll do just about fuckin’ anything to get you to stop saying shit like that.”
Her voice comes out small.
“I was alone, Carm. They kept trying to take my order and you weren’t there, and eventually I had to leave.“
She looks up at him, eyes sparkling and kind and Carmen. She looks beautiful, and if he wasn’t with her, he’d see her in the street and hate whatever fuck was lucky enough to be who she got dressed up for.
“I am so, so sorry. It’s just with the stove, and Fak, and Richie fucking calling me to bitch me out every thirty seconds,” she reaches her delicate fingers to brush his cheek with concern, “I should’ve remembered. It’s just about the only thing this week worth remembering. And you look…stunning, I should’ve been there. I should’ve. Please.”
Her expression softens and he loves the sight of her, warm and kind and lovely in both form and temperance. She’s so patient with him, responds with kindness- a gift.
She brushes her soft lips on his cheek and he tries to savor the sensation, note how warm and wonderful it is to have her form pressed against his, how her arms knot themselves around his waist.
“I know you’re stressed, babe,” she murmurs against his cheek, eyes shut, “tell you what. Why don’t you make me something better than what that place could’ve, huh?”
After he kisses her for so long that excess is no longer the right terminology, he makes her the best pasta she’s ever had in her goddamn life.
It’s better this way, anyway. She’s gorgeous in a way that’s just his to look at tonight.
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x You#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto imagine#the bear#the bear x reader
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Period Comfort
Prompt: How the boys act when their S/O is on their period. [Requested by @weebumochi]
Featuring: TF141 and Los Vaqueros - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, and Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: reader menstruates, but no mention of genitalia; menstruation discomfort; nothing else i can think of, but lemme know if there's more
John Price
Always gets you water and a fresh cup of tea once your cups looks a little low.
Finds out what meals are best for someone on their period and focuses on making those for the week.
You two would make food with beef, eggs, and fish (if you eat them); spinach, squash, and brussel sprouts. All the nutritious stuff.
And then he would make treats for you, especially dark chocolate on almonds or walnuts. Bring you bananas, berries, figs. You felt like ancient Mesopotamian royalty. All things that were also good for you, but were more traditional period comfort food of “sweet”.
If you really needed to eat half a family sized bag of barbeque potato chips, he would fetch them and put them in a bowl for you. No questions asked. No movement in the eyebrows. A loving smile as he asks what movie you two were going to watch.
But for dinner, he’s making something without so much… sodium.
Does everything he can to make your period easier on you.
Simon Riley
Doesn’t tell you that he knows you’re on your period, but that shit is on the calendar. Doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s all “oh is it that time of the month?”. So he pretends nothing is different.
He’s always so sweet to you, but he’s especially so when you’re on your period.
There are absolutely no gibes or pokes at the tender part of your heart. And whenever you’re most hormonal (which is also on the calendar), he might not tease you at all. Because one time he was a little snarky with you, and normally it would roll right off, but you were just a teensy bit too hormonal. And you got quiet. And your lip quivered. And he didn’t stop apologizing the whole day.
Any shows or movies he normally sighs about (but still sits down and watches… and gets invested in, the lying shit), there is no fussing.
“Alright, lovie, sounds good. Do you want another cuppa while I’m up?”
Need some quiet time by yourself? He has some errands to run, let him know what you want for dinner.
Just does his best to make sure you never feel crazy when you’re on your period.
Kyle Garrick
When the worst of your period comes in, it becomes the typical night in.
The dumbest movies that you two love. Dessert eaten before dinner. Favorite takeout and all the accoutrement available. A glass of wine or some other treat beverage. Matching pajama sets.
Kyle had almost fallen asleep when you massaged a yummy-smelling hair mask into his scalp, and then pulled a ‘oh I was just resting my eyes’. And then he returned the favor, painting a luxurious facial mask on you. Making hearts on your cheeks, then spreading them out. You were fairly sure he drew boobs on your forehead, but then smeared it out and insisted you were just imagining it.
You give each other manicures, and hand feed the other food whilst their nails dried. Kissing chocolate and strawberries off each others lips and chins.
Once his hair was wrapped up, he’s all snuggled up in your arms. The heat and weight of his body against your abdomen was soothing. And the gentle snoring of the love of your life.
Everything he can to make you feel comfortable and attractive in your own skin.
Johnny MacTavish
He gets up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run (like a fucking psycho). Once you wake up, he wants to go to the gym with you. Whether or not you work out, or just poke his butt because it’s funny, he wants you there. But not today. Your cramps, or just the general yuckiness of menstruating, makes you want to not leave the house.
So he hops on the internet, and finds the workouts, stretches, and yoga poses that would help you feel better.
The most gentle workout he’s had in his life. Stretching with the speed of tai chi, leaning against your back and chatting quietly.
Kisses wherever he can reach as you two figure out the yoga poses. Sticks his ass out as far as he can so you’ll poke it. Whistles whenever you begin a pose that’s even marginally suggestive. Waggles his eyebrows and maybe even cops a feel.
Double checks that you aren’t overexerting yourself. Stops for water (and kiss) breaks and asks how you’re feeling. What’s helping, what’s not helping? Time to stop, or keep going?
Helping with the physical and visceral symptoms so you’re more comfortable.
Alejandro Vargas
If he can, he’s clearing the schedule for the worst day of the week. Does grocery shopping and laundry before, so there is essentially nothing to do that day when Mother Nature is curb-stomping you.
Spoils you with a long lie-in. The sun has long since come up by the time you wake up to massages and kisses.
You join him for breakfast and a quick rinse off shower, and then you two crawl right back into bed. Leaning against him as he kneads the skin and muscles of your abdomen or back, a movie or the radio as ambient noise.
Maybe you fall back asleep. Maybe you watch an entire TV show. Maybe you putter about and do some light home-making. The goal is that you are fully rested.
I bet science says that you can’t “catch up on sleep”, but it’s still nice to have a day where you sleep for most of it. Especially when it’s curled up in bed with your sweet lover. His hands on you for the entire day, closely followed by his lips.
His whole body squeezing you tight when you try to leave, and wrapping around you again once you return.
Just physically reminding you of how much he loves you.
Rodolfo Parra
Once he sees a menstrual product wrapper in the bathroom trash can, he’s off to make the most professional grocery run you’ve ever seen.
Knows exactly which products you use, and checks which are low. Buys the right medications or products. The snacks that you love (that won’t betray you later with a stomach ache), and the little drink treat that’s for special occasions.
You swear that he hears the crinkle of a wrapper in the bathroom and marches to the store.
Puts the groceries away while you’re finishing up the breakfast dishes and then offers you the little beverage and maybe a treat.
He guides you to the couch or back to bed, sidling up next to or behind you and kisses you deeply. Arms roaming and then settling in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Pressing against you as if you could become one.
Cuddles in the way that is most comfortable, whether you’re in his lap or laying down. Kisses you all over. Hand feeds you until you’re giggling too hard.
He never wants you to run out of the supplies you need, or feel any less sexy while menstruating. Because you are always so sexy to him.
Posted: 2024 January 7
#cod mw2 x reader#cod mw2 fluff#cod fluff#cod x reader#captain john price fluff#captain price fluff#john price fluff#john price x reader#captain price x reader#simon riley fluff#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost fluff#gaz x reader#kyle garrick fluff#kyle garrick x reader#gaz fluff#johnny mactavish fluff#johnny mactavish x reader#soap mactavish fluff#soap mactavish x reader#soap fluff#soap x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#alejandro vargas fluff#rodolfo parra x reader#rodolfo parra fluff#rudy parra x reader#rudy parra fluff
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𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 '𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓' 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!Reader
➸ CHOKING: he doesn't squeeze that hard – just applies enough pressure the way you like it until that familiar glassy-eyed expression falls over your face, something lust-addled; he always uses his left arm, the one that's all tatted up, consists of intricate pieces he's collected over time until it's formed an elaborate black and white collage that’s inked into his skin – he enjoys seeing how you try to enclose two hands over the entirety of his muscled forearm but can't quite round off the circumference of it, not even trying to get him to pry his grip from your throat, but to keep him there and occasionally prompt him for a little bit more constriction if you need it (❝ Look so fuckin' good like this, don’t you love? ❞)
➸ FAVORITE POSITIONS: anything that can get him as deep inside you as possible, bottomed-out so that he can watch you take every thick inch of him which includes, but is not limited to
(1) mating press or any other variation of it – basically an aggressive 'missionary-style' that gives him the advantage of pile-driving into you, will try to ease your legs onto his shoulders for as long as you can handle it; also likes this because he can still see your eyes roll back in between thrusts when he just grinds into your cunt for a bit while he takes a break and plays with your clit (❝ Greedy cunt's just swallowin' me whole, innit? ❞)
(2) face-down, ass-up - has to pull on your hair a little so you bring your head up to make sure your mouth's not muffled by the pillow (he needs to hear each long, drawn-out moan he can get from you every time he brushes up against that special spot inside you); very primal and powerful, allows him the opportunity to see the arch of your back like this while he's gripping onto your hips for leverage but it's also just so fucking tight and deep (❝ You can take it all, can't you, sweetheart? Yeah, that's my girl. ❞)
➸ DIRTY TALK: typically more reserved in day-to-day conversation, had to work up to being vocal in the bedroom, which now consists of a diverse mixture of low groans, lots of swearing (fuck, shite, or whatever other word that accurately expresses everything he's feeling when he hasn't got a single coherent bloody thought at the moment), as well as any filth like
❝ Gotta stretch you out – work you open on my fingers… Y’know it’d be a shame to wreck this tight, little cunt before I’ve had my fill. ❞
❝ Can’t wait ‘til you milk every last drop of cum from my cock, love. ❞
❝ Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please.’ Let me hear you beg for it. ❞
❝ Christ, I’m gonna flood this fuckin’ cunt. ❞
❝ Do I look like I’m done? Lettin’ my cum leak out… I don’t think so sweetheart. Gotta fuck it back into you now. ❞
❝ Again – love, I'm not stopping until I get another one outta you. So be a good girl and fuckin' come for me. ❞
➸ SPITTING: has a few places he’s fond of; will lift up his mask just above his mouth in order to make it happen
(1) in your mouth, tongue held out in anticipation – he discovers that you’ve got a thing for spit play after a particularly hungry and feverish kiss that has him starving for you, swallowing down your moans, and when he pulls away there’s sort of a wet, glossy little sheen left behind on your lips that you run your tongue over; so, you ask him if he can spit in your mouth because you feel like you need more than just a kiss – he obliges because it reminds him of his cum on your tongue after he asks you where you want him to finish sometimes
(2) on your pussy – absolutely no valid reason for this other than the fact that he really likes rubbing his spit into your cunt and watching it mix with the slickness in between your legs just to make an even bigger mess than the one that’s already there
(3) in his hand, covering his palm – uses it to coat his cock with a few passes over the length of it with his fist, a few harsh tugs at his shaft and a smear of his precum at the head; doesn't really have to because you're wet enough (still wishes he had the opportunity to get you completely fucking soaked, except the circumstances won't allow it), but he's pressed for time, knows it won't be better than the natural lubrication of your own arousal and doesn't care too much since the idea of it makes him that much harder right before he slides on home into your cunt
➸ EATING YOU OUT: he loves it, needs it; heaven between your legs, groans whenever he gets a taste of you, can't resist grabbing handfuls of your ass to bring you impossibly closer to his mouth, tongue flattening and stroking and licking its way into your cunt as you rock down, hips rolling, squirming under the iron-clad grip he's got on your thighs – craves the hot slick rushing out of you, doesn't want to waste a single drop but can't control the way your orgasm liquefies into a sticky and clear wetness that paints his lips and his chin (❝ C’mere. Gonna have you make a mess on my face. ❞ )
➸ DACRYPHILIA: when you're wrought with overstimulation, so, so sensitive after he's ripped the first few orgasms from you – tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a stinging, burning sensation growing in your throat as you try to tamp it down until the first wayward drops of brackish water escape, rolling over your cheeks unsolicited not because the sex hurt but because it was too good and you can't sort out the knotted tangle of emotions you harbor for simon; he asks in a rough and hoarse voice if you're okay, brushes the tears away in a questioning gesture with scarred knuckles until you admit exactly what the cause is, which elicits a deep moan from him signaling that he might just give you another reason to cry
➸ TEASING: rubs the head of his cock against the entrance of your awaiting cunt, back and forth, slowly, just so he can hear you whining impatiently for him to put it in because you hate the feeling of being empty; maybe you should ask nicely, try being polite – it might be the solution to putting an end to your misery
#banner credit to cafekitsune#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley smut#ghost smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#cod mw 2 smut#cod mw x reader#cod mw2#call of duty headcanons#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty smut#ghost cod
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can u explain why AI art is bad without fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking lol
I'm going to answer in good faith, even though the tone you're using sounds like you're harboring anything but. The issue with AI art isn't specifically inherent to the tools used to produce it, because, ultimately, a tool is merely that: something devoid of will which, in the hands of a human, can produce a specific outcome. It's the human element that taints what we could otherwise enjoy for the unquestioningly fascinating topic that is AI art and, by extension, AI software as a whole.
Now, the problem isn't people, period, but the kind of people that are responsible for giving AI the bad rep it's been getting, along with the intent that goes into both the development of AI tools and the things produced by dint of said tools. I'm talking about the tech bros happily rubbing their hands, waiting to provide business moguls with a brand new means to commodify and mass-produce what artists stake their entire livelihoods upon, because when you have enough zeroes lined up in your bank account, your eyes are utterly blinded to the soul and personality that human beings put into their handiwork, and which a machine won't ever be able to reproduce no matter how much stolen art you feed it. Oh yeah, by the way, that's how AI art tools have been making the rounds: by chewing on thousands upon thousands of stolen pictures made by actual people so that they may learn how to ape someone's style and spit out absolutely soulless derivatives, while the original authors don't see a lick of recognition or monetary retribution for any of it. Do I need to tell you why stealing and parading someone else's art as your own is a terrible, vile thing to do?
But sure, you did ask me to refrain from "fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking", which I guess I've already done. So since you'd rather I skipped straight to the point in a concise manner, lemme offer some quick examples of why the culture surrounding AI art has already developed into one of the most abysmally disappointing displays of how greed and an utter lack of human decency can ruin something objectively brimming with possibilities:
Less than a week after the sudden death of Korean artist Kim Jung-gi, someone trained an AI model to mimic his artstyle, having the audacity of asking for credits if anyone wished to use it. I sincerely hope I don't have to explain to you why this is a ghoulish example of the kind of tone-deafness sported by tech bros who buy wholesale into the AI art craze.
A piece of AI art was submitted to an art contest and won. The "artist"'s work amounted to little more than picking a series of prompts and letting the machine do the work. It's as much art as googling a smattering of terms and making a collage of pictures taken from Pinterest (and even then, you would have put more work into it than this person did). That they won at all says a whole damn lot about how abysmal the respect given to artists - real artists - nowadays is.
There are a multitude of people out there already selling prints of AI-generated art. I could link some of them here, but honestly, type "ai art prints" on a search engine and you'll get inundated by them. I've seen and personally know artists who have had to undersell their works because commissions were the only thin, frayed string they could hang on in hopes of making it through the week without fucking starving themselves, but here we are: any random asshole can now yell "MASSIVE BREASTS, THIN WAIST, COCKTAIL DRESS, HUGE BADONGAS" at a computer, let it mash together a trillion of other people's hard work, and print it for easy bucks that the actual authors of the basic ingredients of their insipid soup will never, ever see a dime of.
It really bothers me that you mentioned "no bootlicking". Whose fucking boots is this side of the debate supposedly tasting? That of the artists who post every day about how angry, sad and terrified they are by the prospects of what the development of AI art will entail for their livelihood and passion? What kind of gall did your mother birth you with that you have the spiteful spunk to type that word, when you've got shit like an artist who had their sketch stolen while they were drawing it on stream, then fed to an AI and posted by someone passing it off as their own art? How does that not ignite your indignation? "Bootlicking". Like anyone's tongues have been tasting leather but those of the same tech bro chodes who kept trying oh so hard to convince us NFTs were the future while ruining the environment to make the absolute stupidest point ever made in the history of humanity.
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ride | onyankopon
word count: 466 [1 min 41 sec read] | ✪ content warning: riding… question mark question mark question mark, assisted riding, sex, fuckin, uhhh
onyankopon x reader / boyfriend!onyankopon x reader
✭ what it’s like trying to ride your boyfriend
there really is no riding onyankopon. yeah, you can get ontop of him and all that good shit but something about how your ass is the only part of your body that even somewhat compares to his towering size, gets him. when he has that delicious view of the curve of your back, the feeling of your chest on his, nipples standing at attention for him? he can’t keep his hands off you.
his big hands are always either on the small of your hips or on your cheeks, bringing you up and down, up and down. listening to the shliiiick sounds your cunt makes guiding up and down the long expanse of his cock drives. him. wild.
“y’know how whipped you got me, mama?” you almost don’t hear him over the moaning you’re doing into his neck.
when he gets nothing but a “ohmygooooduhh…” in response alongside your long almond nails digging into his thick, toned triceps, it prompts him to take hold of your face and force it upwards to look at him.
“huh? look at me,” he demands, all the while the sound of your pussy nearly drowns out your whines, and you struggle to maintain eye contact with him. you tighten around him upon the sight of his big lips glossy with spit from the erratic making out you two had been doing while you struggled to align yourself with him earlier.
“you love the way i fuck you huh?” he asks, once he starts thrusting up into you from below aswell.
“yes daddy, pleasepleaseplease fuck, i love- i need your dick,” despite the grip he has on your cheeks, forcing your glossed lips to pucker, you fuzzy head threatens to fall forward into the crook of his neck but you knew better if you’d expected him to let you cum, instead opting to give him the best, sloppiest kiss of his life before pleading, “can i cum? please.. please”
onya knew he couldn’t tell you no, not only because of how beautifully desperate you sounded but with the moan that interrupted your pleas… you’d come anyway.
“go’head princess, cmon,”
if your neighbors couldn’t hear y’all before they absolutely heard the symphony of you and your boyfriends moans, the slapping of where you two connected.. delicious and sinful and loud.
you wasted no time moaning directly into his ear while your release dripped down his length, prompting his own.
you’d always came hard when it came to sex with him, but he’d never seen you pass out so quickly.
and of course, he’d let his angel sit like that and cockwarm him for a few minutes until he deemed it was time to clean up.
the cake you present to him the next day for his birthday reads, “best dick ever” :)
did u miss me pookie?
#aot au#onyankopon x reader#ony x black reader#onyankopon x black y/n#aot onyankopon#onyankopon snk#onyankopon smut#onyankapon#aot x black reader#aot smut
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KINKVEMBER DAY: 3
[prompt: fingering]
male reader x kim chaewon
2.5k words
Chaewon hates that you’re actually good at this.
To be clear, there’s plenty more that Chaewon hates; it’s not exhaustive, just that bit.
She hates losing. Hates whenever anyone talks over her or doesn't give a second's worth of attention to whatever it is she's trying to say. She absolutely loathes it whenever her friends insist on complimenting her appearance when she doesn't have her clothes or makeup or hair or attitude down just yet.
But the thing she hates most? There's reason to believe it might be that her friends laugh at your jokes, or that when you roll up your sleeves and smile, they all notice things they normally wouldn't (and like it), even when Chaewon fixes them a look just this side of sour and scowly.
Realistically however, and Chaewon doesn't seem to mind admitting this part out loud - especially once you stop teasing her thighs with kisses that tickle the crease where her legs meet her hips - you really are good at going down on girls.
This, is absolute truth.
"Fuck," and "me," she breathes out, harsh little syllables coming with her fingertips knotting into your hair, right above the nape of your neck. She crashes down into the pillow behind her. Back and hips tensing - thighs all spread wide. She probably gives a bit too much, but Chaewon's the kind who gives, then turns around to take some more:
"You can-" is cut short when she gasps at the sudden, slow touch of a finger at the sensitive bundle of nerves atop her folds. There and back. "Ah - a little more, fuck, god. Again."
It's your mouth. The exact right movements - pulling and kissing, sucking gently, fluttering your tongue. Then harder and harder and harder, licking against the crease. That's what has her toes curling and feet flat to the bed. Little fistfuls of cotton sheets twisted up in her grip.
Actually, It's the flat of your tongue, soft and slick and moving on her clit in these long and languid sweeps that really makes the tears in her eyes begin to sting - like all that ache around her pussy is nothing compared to the one simmering in her stomach - like if only she could unwind around you a little bit faster and have her body turn to water and utterly ruin your sheets, she could catch her breath - and find her voice again.
You pull her puffy lips into a kiss, a devilish little suction, and her thighs press tighter and tighter together, around the sides of your head until you start to get a little dizzy. With a hand splayed open across her thigh - a tiny tickling gesture - you urge her to spread. Beg for breath.
Only to your surprise, she closes her legs completely.
"Asshole. Fuck," Chaewon sighs out.
"Did you think you'd lose me?" You kiss your way up from her hips to the flat of her stomach and grin into her skin.
"Was about to kick you," she rolls her eyes, then raises an arm and pushes her bangs off her forehead - wiping a sheen of sweat with the back of her palm. "No mouth."
"No mouth?" You cock your head, giving her an innocently questioning look.
"It's..." Chaewon is barely a hair's length away from what you expect. "Don't kiss me either. Unless you wanna make out, in which case actually, the answer's also no. I don't want to taste myself."
"Chae, you actually taste pretty good."
"Stop." Chaewon's sigh has a lilt, something obviously worried in the noise. Tucked into the shape of her half-lidded eyes. "I'm literally too turned on for this."
"So you want me to touch you."
Here’s to that what Chaewon doesn't say, "I want you to stick three of those fingers into my pussy and fill me 'til the knuckle and eat my ass while your thumb is tucked deep in my cunt. I want it to hurt, how badly I'm aching for you to fill and ruin and tear me the fuck apart."
She instead asks, "what the fuck do you think?"
"But no mouth," you repeat, slowly running your fingers down the creamy skin along her thigh, watching how she shivers when you brush a certain spot near her knee, and feeling a tightening grip on the opposite hip.
Chaewon groans a bit, lips twisting down.
"Can I perhaps, like, ask why?" you ask, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses into the flesh of her leg, down from her knee, over the curve of a thigh - but not, determinedly, into her where she's hotter and softer and practically melting, from all this pressure built up inside.
"Mind your own business," she mutters back.
You look. Chaewon's pussy is so, so pretty. Wetness gathering at the glistening, flushed hood. She's fluttering: desperate for the faintest touch. It's hard to imagine yourself doing anything other than making her writhe and gasp and wail on your mouth and lips and tongue, as your undoing - reducing her to an exhausted, sweat-drenched, wracked mess, the kind of spent that follows with long, long sighs and whispered curses under her breath.
With a fingertip ghosting touches around her cunt, Chaewon lets out an unexpectedly high-pitched whine. One that fades, bit by bit. Into an eventual murmuring - begging?
"Baby," you say, when you just can't resist. "I just want to make you-"
"I said, I wanted-I want-" and then with the pillow over her face, her groan, muffled, "look - it's fine. It's...great, even," is what you think she means by "amazing," but she continues, "you're literally the best thing I've ever felt, please. Fuck-come on. Keep touching."
You slow your hand, smoothing down the soft skin over her thighs.
And as soon as your lips cover her hole, from where she's wet and dripping and open, her hands fall to her side, pillow sliding into the corner of the sheets. "It's too good."
You're kidding. With a tip of your head, and your most self-satisfied little smirk, you ask, "too good?"
"Can you shut the fuck up, I hate you. I really fucking do," she says in what you figure was meant to be a dismissive sigh. One that's something stuck in a guttural moan and the squeak of mattress springs. "Please, you make me cum too fast otherwise."
You chuckle, trying your damnedest not to keep the mood going and actually get her to enjoy the moment - the best orgasm of her life, you want her to remember. To deserve the bragging rights.
“Odd complaint, princess.”
The stare she has fixed on you - over the space where her shirt is bunched up over the arch of her ribs - cuts right through you, if a bit hazy. And with her hands over her face, squirming her hips closer to you, she says, “don’t fucking call me princess.”
The implication is not lost on her. You let out an apologetic laugh, bringing your mouth, if briefly, closer to the peak of her hips and blowing a cold breath.
Chaewon just mutters something that sounds vaguely like, "fucking prick, just go back down."
Which is where she ends up. Or, starts. Because now she's lying back on the pillows with her hand slung across her forehead, leg up and bent and calf draped over the crook of your elbow, her eyes rolling back as you start to touch her - really, earnestly; work her up again, thumb rubbing the length of her clit. You can hear Chaewon's breath leaving her chest, in a broken pattern, until the sensations finally allow her to settle into one smooth inhale.
And then, slowly, just the length of one finger up to your first knuckle, the second - you slip inside her so, so easily. Then almost all the way. Her body tense, and her cunt, deliciously soft.
When you stroke and rub and slide your way back in, adding another digit, the noises she begins to make - your name, then god - sound raw, like a far-off cry and a drawn-out wail. There's a swishing sound whenever you get really slow and rhythmic, with the push, that turns slick-wet from the hot, milky way her insides get all sticky with her own want, before you can press more kisses into the bone of her hips and lap against the same skin - almost biting.
"Tell me if you want to stop," you whisper, the hot, humid breath of which does not fail to cause her spine to bend.
"Don't."
She's half-swearing, half-whimpering.
"Fuck you," is what follows next. As she wraps a hand in the hair around the base of your skull and pulls you close, right into her thighs and hips.
It's the small pleasures that have always gotten to you the most, the smallest, most vulnerable and unthinkingly personal acts, like, you think, when she presses the heel of her hand over her eyes and half-smiles, when the palm spreads out across the flatness of her stomach, as if, somehow, her whole self could not be any more delicate and devious at the exact same time.
And you are compelled, because of course, you are compelled: to be anything and everything Chaewon asks for in this moment, you tell her.
(Here's the embarrassing part. For her, really.)
You have your thumb tucked up along the muscle of Chaewon's thighs, opening and stroking a straight line from where your finger is still nestled all the way up the entirety of her folds, "so good and so," before circling the tensed point in a delicate, feather-touch, "tight, baby."
"Shit, oh, that's. You're." And all you do is hum, agreeing, adding another stroke and letting your lips fall into her open thigh. Your finger fucking her cunt a few times before twisting back and pulling out.
"You're making me feel so," and her whole body relaxes. Not only her voice. A shudder that breaks up her spine and spreads to her thighs, loosening. And looser and looser.
And at the exact same time she's saying: "hot."
Chaewon runs the pad of her thumb over her lip, bucking her hips into the flutter of your fingers. The soft, velvety heat of her cunt takes quickly to the slow circle-stroke, slide and curl, repeat, again. Her whine is longer, louder. More-so once her whole body tightens up once your fingers fuck into her, especially deep, in short-rhythmic staccato strokes, rubbing at her from the inside until she's shaking all over and can hardly breathe.
"Fuck, the way you're so-" Chaewon's heels digging deeper, "oh, deeper. Right there, please right there–."
This isn't even the worst of her embarrassment. When her stomach gets visibly tensed, muscles bunching and giving, and your free hand falls to rest on top of it. All this friction happening within her. Just beneath the surface of her skin and how that must be lighting every nerve along her spine and sending them all aflame, so overwhelmed and tightened, only relaxing in small increments whenever you move a bit too slow, to a bit more pressure - adding the extra touch, kissing her everywhere between her thighs, right into the dips between them. Close but not there. So frustratingly near, and she barely has the air left in her lungs to make a frustrated noise, but somehow finds the impetus to let the weight fall out of her body - let her limbs stretch open, give, release the tension.
Then all those incoherent twitching spasms: "God. Now-"
When the sudden ache inside her walls hits, it catches first in her chest, spreading out where the fist curling into the covers can't hide. "Right there, right there," she's panting, nodding her head in these tiny little shakes, rocking her hips into the movement and pushing them into your touch. And you just nod back.
Her orgasm hits her like a fucking lightning storm: blinding and thunderous, heavy.
Chaewon simply cries out when she unravels, finally, and the sound is a little wrecked. Cursing your name, god's.
Her hand is twisted in your hair, and she pulls, twists and wrenches, an arm tossed over her face when it feels like you're rushing, surging waves breaking all along her senses, the pads of your fingers pushing into the ridges, knuckles wrapping, knocking at her core, finger prints seared into her skin and pressing into that knot of pleasure, swollen and raw.
She just exhales into a groan and runs a palm down her face and throat, and breasts, rubbing a bit harshly at the tops of her shoulders. You raise yourself over her, until your head's just next to her collarbone, not speaking but watching how her breaths are slowing - the moment they become steadier, like a boat to shore.
You prop an arm over her, carefully, letting Chaewon twist her palm, finger the tips of yours. It's like listening to music, hearing how she laughs and swallows around this haze. Her whole body in the dreamy afterglow, writhing a little when the ache crawls back up through the space between her hips and she settles onto her side, curling up in your half-embrace.
"Oh, well. Look what you did to me, fuck," she murmurs. You can't help smiling.
"Too fast?" you ask, lowering your head, propping yourself up on a single elbow and gently placing a kiss along the top of her hair, tangling her fingers with your own.
"You're really annoying," she huffs. She tries her best not to blush, but the glow in her cheeks is quite apparent - especially once it reaches her ears. You laugh right into the top of her head, and she playful slaps a fist to your chest. "Go to bed, idiot."
"To think - you said you liked me."
"Said. Said, being the key word here."
When you roll over - slightly onto her and slip a thigh between her legs - Chaewon groans, and her hands press into your back. The touch is light. Practically nothing. Then you're grinning down at her, a sly smile playing in your eyes. "Maybe it’s my turn," she murmurs, "to make you squirm."
"No mouth?" you tease. "You might need the help sweetheart."
"Fuck that. Absolutely not." Chaewon rolls and turns until she's on top of your thighs, pinning you gently in place. She’s fixing her hair into a clumsy little ponytail, hallmark signs of impatience, that says, "if I want to suck your cock, I'll do it," she glares a little, but her smirk is turning the corner, and her whole face softens.
"Shouldn't have laughed earlier, asshole."
(And here is the start and end of all you think you know, watching as she places a trail of kisses down your chest.)
#chaewon smut#le sserafim smut#izone smut#le sserafim chaewon smut#kpop smut#male reader#capslocked kinkvember
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STWG Daily Prompt: Date Night
“Does Thursday work?” Jeff asks, voice tinny and sort of muffled. Eddie can hear the sound of flipping pages, the creak of the plastic from the phone's speaker.
“Shit, sorry dude.” Eddie says, looking at the loose pages of lined paper he's scribbled his schedule on. It works for him, and it's better than nothing. “That's date night.”
A pause. For a moment, all Eddie can hear is the sound of Jeff breathing through the speaker.
“Date night, huh?” Jeff eventually asks, and Eddie can hear the smarmy grin he's wearing. It's leaking into his voice, the absolute delight in it all. Just the right side of teasing, the bastard. He'd hate it, would snap and snarl and throw it all back if he wasn't also fucking delighted.
He could say that now. He had a boyfriend, who holds his hands and kisses him and schedules date nights. He gets this. He gets to talk about it with his best friend. Can mention he has a date and doesn't have to hide the fact that it's with his boyfriend. He gets to share in the gentle ribbing for once. It's not just him on the outside looking in — as they tease Gareth for getting a date with a girl from his English class, or Jeff hitting his anniversary with his girlfriend.
Eddie's been domesticated and he doesn't mind in the slightest.
“Yes, it's date night,” Eddie retorts, trying to send as much faux malice down the phone as he can. He's smiling though, as he sits at the kitchen table, phone cord absently tangled through his fingers. “And Steve's been working hard planning it, so I will not be rescheduling.”
“I didn't ask you to,” Jeff laughs, tone light.
“Well good.” Eddie teases, wishing they were having this conversation in person so he could stick his tongue out. Really ham it up.
Another pause, and Eddie uses the silence to flip through his papers, looking through all the events and dates and times he's scribbled out. Fuck, he really needs a calendar.
“So?” Jeff prompts, drawing the word out. “Tell me about date night.”
“You sound like your mother,” Eddie laughs, holding the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, pinning it there so he can free up his hands. So he can sort through his papers and fidget with the phone cord at the same time “Begging for gossip.”
“You love my mother,” Jeff retorts — snappish — but it's obvious he's smiling. Laughing through it. “And you say that like you aren't gagging to talk about it. Come on.”
“Okay fine,” Eddie relents. Sighing as he sinks into his chair, slouching, his socked feet skating across the floor. “You caught me.”
“Not hard,” Jeff laughs.
“Steve’s been talking a lot about wooing me lately,” Eddie starts, ignoring Jeff’s teasing. He finds himself smiling as he talks, creeping across his face uncontrollably. Fuck, the things Steve does to him. “As if he hasn’t wooed me already. So he’s planned this like, romantic dinner at home. Instead of going out to Enzo’s he wants to like, bring Enzo’s to us? Said he was going to treat me right. Have the fancy dinner I deserve, where we can play footsie under the table and hold hands without, y’know, worrying.”
By the end of his sentence Eddie’s feeling like he’s melting into his chair, insides melting into something soft and gooey. Pulling his hair across his face to hide his blush. Jeff can’t even see him, but he can’t help it. He wants to giggle and kick his feet. Jump and scream and flail around. It’s all building up inside him, this honey sweet affection. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it all.
“He going to light candles? Have soft music playing in the background?” Jeff asks, teasing melting away into something softer.
“Literally yes,” Eddie exclaims, dropping his hair and trying not to wiggle too much in his seat. “He’s so sweet, I’m going to throw up.”
“He’s good for you, man.” Jeff says simply, and it means a lot. That other people can see it — can know — just how happy Steve makes him.
[Part Two]
#steve harrington#eddie munson#jeff stranger things#steddie#steddie ficlet#stwgdailyprompt#My Writing
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sundress szn pt. 2
pt. 2 ft. scaramouche, sandrone, pantalone, and childe
Summer’s finally come, so you decide to wear something that fit the occasion- much to your lover’s excitement.
tags: nsfw under cut, public/semi public sex in almost all of these, I got carried away during pantalone’s, harbingers x afab! Reader (minus signora this time bc I genuinely cannot think of smth for her rn but I can promise in the future that she may be in one of these.), slight ooc maybe? mdni.
word count: ~2.2k, I wrote these half asleep on a nine hour flight these are not going to be proofread
Scaramouche
This was a good idea. Totally. Sumeru’s just much, much more humid than Snezhnaya, which was something you were willing to get used to. You were absolutely fine.
How you wished you were right.
Even in the shade of the Grand Bazaar you could still feel the light sheen of sweat begin to form on your skin as you hastily fan yourself, occasionally observing your surroundings for your boyfriend. As a newly-inducted Vahumana student, he was bound to get busy, so it left you with a lot of time on your hands. Too much time. But hey, it got you a new dress so who are you to complain?
It reminded you of when you were both in the Fatui, the Harbinger and his loyal partner, who were too busy to really see each other until he whisked you away to Sumeru. You assumed it would be different this time, but it had dawned on you recently that it would take quite a while to get there (not that it wasn’t deserved, he had a lot to atone for after all.)
But it still disheartened you. You would be lying if you said that it didn’t. You missed his hugs and his presence, no matter how much you annoyed each other you always seemed to find a way to touch each other. And on nights he would be up in the Akademiya studying, leaving you alone in your shared bed, your thoughts wandered to those scarce intimate moments you shared- nights where his chest was pressed against yours, with that stupid smirk on his face as he fucked you silly. Just thinking about those nights made a familiar heat rise in between your legs, making you curse as your cheeks reddened.
Archons, first the heat, and now this? Scaramouche had better hurry, you felt like you were going to be torched alive at this rate.
Thankfully, you did not need to wait long. Looking into the crowd again, your eyes met with a familiar pair of tired purple ones, much to your delight. You hopped off the bench you sat on and beelined your way to the grouchy purple boy, a smile blossoming on your face as you get closer to him. He doesn’t return the same excitement, content to just catch you in his arms like he always does. You don’t seem to mind, though, as you were too preoccupied with burying your face into his chest.
“Scara…” You whined, pouting your lips. “What took you so long? Do you know how hot it is in here? I almost died.” Expecting a smart retort from him, you were thoroughly surprised at the next words that came out of his mouth.
“What on earth are you wearing?”
There was no malice and spite in his voice, just irritated confusion. Which, in turn, confused you, prompting you to release your position against his chest and stare at him with an eyebrow raised.
“Do you not like it? I got it a while ago.” You hesitantly let go of his embrace, spinning once to let him see the whole dress. It was perfect for a hot day- light and airy, revealing as much skin as possible without spilling everything out. When you turned back to him, his face had gotten redder, but his eyes stayed on you- more specifically, your figure.
“Aw, what’s got you blushing, Scara?” Your teasing tone was met with a glare, and a pathetic attempt to hide his face by looking away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So you don’t like my dress?”
“That’s not the problem.” Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him again, lowering his head so he could murmur into your ear, “I like it too much. Fix it. Now.”
With that, he dragged you to the nearest concealed spot- behind some crates that barely covered the both of you. When you emerged, all that was left of your dress was the tattered skirt that barely hung on to your body as Scaramouche placed his jacket over your top, that same stupid, hot smirk on his face.
Sandrone
Sandrone tried. Really, she did. But she could not help it in the slightest.
The seventh harbinger has a reputation for being a recluse, cooping herself up in her lab toying with her automatons all day. On the rare occasion she did speak to someone, her tone only seemed to indicate annoyance and malice- she didn’t mind since it drove people away. However, things changed the day you were assigned to work under her; suddenly, she didn’t hate the world that much anymore.
Certainly not when you’re dressed like this.
A quick trip to the ruins of Liyue, both as a break and to gather intel, made you a bit… adventurous, with your outfits to say the least. The entire time you had walked around Qiongji Estuary, Sandrone could not help but linger her stare just a little bit longer than usual. Your outfit consisted of a short dress, loosely clinging around your body, but it made you look so alluring in her eyes. A perpetual blush seemed to occupy her face, which you had innocently chalked up to the heat.
As her automatons roam around in search for whatever she had told them to find, Sandrone busied herself under a makeshift tent inspecting what seemed to be an artifact encased in cor lapis, tinkering with the ore as if it were a toy. You were by her side, head on her shoulder, observing your lover with loving eyes. Your subtle touches combined with your warm breathing had already put her on edge, but she continued nonetheless.
However, the last straw came when you stood up a little to grab something on the other side of Sandrone, aptly placing your bosom right in front of her face. So, forgive her for breaking her composure and pulling you back onto the ground, dirtying your dress as she straddles you eagerly while crashing her lips into your own before you could react.
“You’re so fond of distractions…” She said breathlessly, hands all but dying to get your tits out of your dress for her nimble fingers to play with. You moaned in response, a bit taken aback at her suddeness. Looking up at your blushing, desperate girlfriend, you decided to tease her just a little bit.
“I was just trying to help, Sandrone.” Your tone feigned innocence, which only fueled her frustration. She caught your lips with fervor as one hand pinched your nipple, and the other tugged on your hair, all while grinding down on you.
“Shut up and fuck me, please.”
Pantalone
Pantalone was a man of many talents. One of those talents happens to be spoiling you rotten. Too rotten sometimes. But who were you to complain? The richest man in Teyvat was wrapped around your finger, and you couldn’t help but be a little cheeky and take advantage of that sometimes.
What should’ve been a business trip to Liyue to check the Northland Bank’s activities turned into Pantalone emptying out every boutique in the harbor so you can get a new wardrobe for summer. At one particular store, where there were no other customers besides you and your husband, you had decided to try on some dresses that caught your attention. On one hand, you really did want a few more relaxed additions, but on the other hand, well…
You had emerged from your dressing room not long ago, and yet you were already sat firmly on top of your husband, head in his neck as you try to brace yourself against the waiting room’s couch. Under you, Pantalone only gave you his usual, sly grin as his hands firmly hold you in his lap, keeping you in place as you grind on his ever-growing erection.
“I think this dress looks lovely on you dear.” He whispered, taking in the sight of you writhing on top of him desperately. Chuckling, his hand makes it way all the way to your ass, hiking up the long dress before giving it a smack. You moaned in response, hiding your face in his neck, hands raking over his toned chest.
“You simply look ravishing in it.” He continued his assault on your body, propping you up just a little bit so he had a clear view of your chest, kissing you quickly before delving in between your tits. Archons, he was impatient- he made you impatient. You confess, you did think the dress would get a rise out of him, which was why you picked it first when trying clothes on, but to think he would be this roused by it filled you with a titulating thrill only he was capable of causing.
“Ah- Does the dress make you- ngh… this excited, love?” Despite your teasing words, it was clear that you weren’t the one in control as you rocked your hips to feel even a little bit of relief from the growing ache in between your legs. Pantalone didn’t say anything back, rather he took off his gloves and positioned his fingers over your mouth, commanding you in a husky tone.
“Open up and suck them, darling. I’ll have plenty more for you.”
Childe
“Fuck you mean no?”
“You just aren’t going out like that.” Childe deadpanned, crossing his arms. “It’s a pretty dress for sure though.” The contrasting grin on his freckled face made you want to punch him, though it also illicited some questionable butterflies in your stomach.
Nobody quite knew what you and Childe were. On the surface level, one could assume that you two were just close friends; however, if they took the time to observe how Childe’s touch always lingered for a little too long, or how you stared at him with such bold adoration in your eyes as you smiled at him- it would be quite obvious that there were unspoken feelings for each other somewhere there.
It was quite common for you to visit his office in the Northland Bank like today. You really just wanted to show him the new dress you made for yourself, and figured you could flirt with him a little bit- not that he’d catch the hint. He always did treat you just like a good friend, something that disappointed you a little bit.
Because as it stands, right now, with him towering over you with his arms crossed, a grin on his handsome face- somehow, you’re horny because of this smug bastard. You imagine how good it would be to just smash your lips on his just to shut him up because Archons, is it tempting.
“I’d like to show off what I’ve made for myself,” you huffed at him, pouting. “I’ll go ahead and stroll the streets as I please with or without you then.” You try to turn and leave, expecting him to just laugh and go back to work. However before you could even step towards the door’s direction Childe’s strong hands snaked around your waist, pulling you firmly back.
Without much warning, you fell back into his chest letting out a small yelp. Once you realize the position you were in, you froze- your cheeks heating up an unbearable amount as you try to wriggle away from the (much) stronger man. It only became worse when he placed his lips right on top of your ear, chuckling lowly.
“C’mon… I can’t have all of Liyue see my girl this good.” He remarked lowly, trailing his lips down until they settled on the base of your neck, to which he then placed a gentle kiss. “They might be tempted to steal you away from me, and we can’t have that, can we?.” You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on so fucking much, trying your best to hide it by pulling your legs closer together.
“We aren’t dating though? What do you mean-“ You let out a moan as he started sucking at the same spot, his lips forming a smile as they worked. Your hands flew to his arm on your waist, turning yourself around to meet his gaze. He lifted his head, lips puffy and blue eyes glazed over with lust.
“Everyone in Liyue knows that we want each other. Why not give in?” He pressed his forehead against yours, lips deliciously close to yours as he placed his hands on your waist.
“Only if you want to.” Was your sheepish reply, slightly embarassed to be this close to the man you’ve been covering for months. Was it really this easy? Is it just another one of his pranks? You weren’t sure, but at this point you didn’t care much, especially after he launched his lips straight at you in a fervent kiss. His hands lifted you up, haphazardly swiping away everything on his desk and placing you on it while your fingers tangled in his hair.
Both of you fumble with each other’s clothes, but Childe took extra care in taking the sight of your dress halfway off your body, admiring the view. He suddenly brings his hand up to your chest, flicking your nipple. You moan in both surprise and pleasure, burying your face into his bare shoulder.
“Be as loud as you want girlie. I want everyone here to know who’s finally got you.”
pt 2 is finally out yall i can rest
i wrote these on my way to and from london on the plane and i am sick bro i just wanna sleep (jet lag and chugging redbulls prevent me from catching a break tbh)
hope yall enjoy, this did take a little bit longer to make tho so i apologize for that.
#genshin imagines#genshin headcanons#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#genshin childe#genshin tartagalia#genshin childe x reader#genshin tartaglia smut#genshin fatui#fatui harbingers#fatui x reader#harbingers smut#genshin pantalone#pantalone x reader#genshin pantalone smut#genshin scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche smut#wanderer smut#genshin sandrone#sandrone x reader#sandrone genshin impact#sandrone smut
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The First Time
Kinktober Day 15: Size Kink
Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), fingering (r!recieving), oral (r!giving and recieving), Frankie's monster schlong, yeah he's got a giant dick we all know it (w/c: 1.5K)
A/N: Part of the rapid-fire Kinktober catch up! My absolutely massive size kink really let itself free with this one (get it?? massive?? hehehe) but anyway please enjoy my ramblings about taking Frankie's gigantic schlong. (I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings for Kinktober!)
The first time you undress Frankie, really see him for the first time, bare and open to your gaze, you think you’re fucking hallucinating. He’d been so shy when you’d first met, so unassuming next to Pope and Will and Benny. Tugging the brim of his cap to cover his eyes, a timid little smile playing on his face as you flirted with him, not his friends.
You couldn’t have expected the fucking monster between his thighs the first time you have him naked in your bed, his cock so thick you can barely wrap your hand around him. You don't expect the way you choke on him when you try to blow him, only for you to realize that you hadn't even made it halfway.
He doesn’t fuck you that night, the both of you too high on each other’s bodies and too tipsy from the bottle of wine you’d shared earlier.
“Need time to get you ready, hermosa,” he whispers in your ear, fucking you so hard and deep on his fingers you nearly cry. “Next time baby, next time.”
The first time he fucks you, he doesn’t make it all the way. You think you're ready, despite Frankie’s protests, begging him to fuck you, grinding into his mouth, into his fingers as he works orgasm after orgasm out of your heaving body. Through your blurry eyes, you can see the way his hips thrust gently into the mattress, fucking himself into your sheets as he eats you out, groaning into your pussy as you gush down his face. It’s fucking maddening.
He lines himself up, pressing into you gently, so gently, but God, it’s already too much. Too fucking much. You gasp as the thick head of his cock presses into your entrance, spreading you so much wider than his fingers, wider than you’ve ever been stretched. It fucking stings, and you dig your nails into Frankie’s shoulders as you try to take it for him.
He only sinks in halfway before your body just can’t take it anymore, squeezing him so tight that he can’t possibly move deeper. Tears spring to your eyes at the feeling of it, and you try to apologize, but Frankie only leans down to seal his mouth to yours, kissing the breath out of your lungs.
“Feels so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips, sounding so fucking wrecked, and you throb around him at the sound of it. “Your little pussy is so fucking tight.”
You feel lightheaded at the destroyed rasp of his voice, and when he moves, you feel lightning rocket up your spine, whining loudly against his lips. He grins, the shy boy from the bar long gone as he thrusts until he’s halfway in again, fucking you on only half his cock as you keen beneath him. You have no idea how he’ll ever fit inside completely, how just half of him fills you up more than anyone else ever has. “Wanna take all of you,” you gasp, “want it all inside, fuck, Frankie, please.”
He shushes you gently, smoothing his hands down your sides. “Mi amor, we need more time to get you ready,” he murmurs softly. “Next time, baby, next time.”
He fucks you just like that, breaking you open with just half of his cock and fisting the base in a large, warm palm until you squeeze around him with your orgasm. When you beg him to cum inside you, he groans, pumping you full, gripping tight to your thighs. You promise yourself that next time you'll take all of him.
The first time you take Frankie, really, truly take him, you think that he’s more affected than you are.
You’re so wet, dripping down your thighs from Frankie’s endless preparation, his lips shiny with your slick as he leans down to kiss you slowly, deliberately. You find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself.
He’s been fucking you on his thick fingers for what seems like hours, spreading you so wide, wide enough that you thought you’d break.
You don’t know how many times he’s made you cum, how many times he’s told you that it’ll make you looser, get you ready. You think he just likes watching you fall apart, his eyes blown wide as you tremble against the sheets.
When he finally, finally notches the thick tip of his cock against your entrance, pushing forward slowly, you try to brace yourself for pain. It’s so much, he’s so much, and it should hurt, fuck, you should feel like you’re being ripped apart.
But your mind is foggy with desperation, your need to finally fit him inside, that you can barely feel the pain at all. You can only gasp for air as his cock stretches you wide, pressing in so deep it’s like you can feel it in your lungs. And he just slides in, easy as that, as if it was easy all along.
And as much as you moan and gasp, your fingers clutching into the skin of his back, it is nothing compared to the way Frankie fucking whines at the feeling of it, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he stills his hips, pressed in as deep as he can get.
“Fuck me, please, oh my God, Frankie,” you gasp, grinding your hips against his on pure instinct, desperate to get him in deeper, somehow. But his hands tighten on you, gripping so hard you think he’ll leave bruises.
“Stop,” he says, deep and raspy and fucking primal. “Stop fucking moving, shit, ‘m trying not to fucking cum.” He sounds goddamn sinful, and your pussy throbs at the sheer idea of him filling you up just from finally fitting inside you. You let him breathe through it, raking your nails gently up his back. He shivers at your touch.
You suck air in through your teeth when he pulls out, just barely, only to fuck back in. He does it again, and again, and again, thrusting so deep into you that his cock fucking drags into your sweet spot, not even trying. You’ve never felt so fucking full before.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn tight, don’t even know how I can fuckin’ fit,” he mutters, pulling your thighs tighter around his hips and pulling you down onto his thick cock with every thrust. “This little cunt is just sucking me in, ‘s like she can’t get enough.”
“God, yes, Frankie please,” you choke out between labored breaths, your vision blurring at the edges. All you can fucking feel, hear, smell is Frankie above you, warm and towering over you, filling you up so perfect.
“So goddamn pretty wrapped around my cock,” he growls, pounding into you hard enough that tears start to pour down your cheeks. “My greedy baby, am I big enough for you?”
“Fuck! Yes, it’s so- it’s so fuckin’ big, Frankie, I can feel it in my fucking stomach.” You’re slurring your words, your brain turned to mush as Frankie breaks you apart so viciously. He reaches between you to rub quick circles into your clit with a calloused thumb, and your body locks up, your back arching so far it presses your tits into Frankie’s strong chest.
“That’s right, honey, just fuckin’ feel it. Nobody else can fill you up like I can, right?” he snarls, and you can only nod frantically, choked moans punched from your throat every time he thrusts inside you. “Cum, sweetheart. Show me how much you love my big cock.”
And you have no other choice but to fucking scream, pulsing violently around him as you cum. You’re fucking lost in it, broken apart in the best way possible, and Frankie groans, stilling inside of your as he fills you up with cum. It’s pure bliss, a goddamn revelation, and you don’t think it’s ever going to fucking stop. He smothers your cries with a kiss, licking into your mouth and soothing you like a wild animal as you both ride out the aftershocks.
When you finally feel yourself start to breathe normally again, to find it in yourself to blink blearily up at him, smiling softly when you see him already staring down at you. As he pulls out of you, you feel the emptiness immediately, whining as he shushes you gently. “I know, honey, I know,” he murmurs, falling beside you and pulling you into him. “You did so good for me.”
“Damn right I did,” you murmur, sleep already weighing down your eyelids. “Who else is going to take that monster dick of yours?”
He laughs, loud and gruff in the most perfectly Frankie-way you could possibly imagine. “Don’t act like you didn’t fucking love it, hermosa.”
And, well, you don’t really have arguments for that.
#oh frankie#sweet husband with a big heart and even bigger schlong#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales smut#frankie x reader#frankie catfish morales#catfish x reader#triple frontier x you#triple frontier x reader#triple frontier smut#triple frontier fic
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I've always been yours // Eddie Munson
Prompt: "I think... I'm in love with him.” "Congrats on being the last one to find out" + the 5 ways to say I love you without saying I love you.
wc: 14K (I'm learning what brevity means y'all)
warnings: female reader, some implied sexual stuff towards the end but not really ish, friends-to-lovers, oblivious idiots in love, the beginnings of rockstar eddie.
Masterlist || AO3
1. Covering sharp edges with their hands, so you don’t get hurt.
You were going to get Max’s birthday cake absolutely perfect even if it fucking killed you, you thought to yourself as your arm ached the harder you mixed the batter.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help Nov?” Eddie asked again.
Pushing the hair out of your eyes with the back of your wrist, you huffed. “I’m okay. I think I adjusted the recipe perfectly this time. I just need to make sure there’s no lumps or the chocolate won’t-”
“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU WHEELER!” You heard Dustin yell from the basement.
Eddie snorted. “Ten bucks on Mike,” he said from his place on the counter.
“I’m telling Dustin you said that,” you said, turning from your batter and shooting him a playful look over your shoulder.
He clasped his imaginary pearls dramatically. “Fair maiden, you dare betray our sacred friendship?”
Not able to keep your laugh down, you shook your head. Loud stomping alerted you to the shift of location of whatever fight was happening.
“Do not come into the kitchen with your shit!” You shouted.
Dustin’s voice floated in from the living room. “But Mike-”
“But Mike nothing!” You shouted. “You two shitheads work it out!”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Mike shouted, grunting right after. “Ow! Dustin!”
Eddie immediately huffed out laughter. “I’d listen to her, she’s on her fifth batch. Her face is getting whiter and whiter with each cake.”
Your hand flew up to your face, fingers coming back dusted in flour. Turning your glare to his grinning face, you rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t have told me?”
“And ruin how cute you look with all that flour on your face?” Eddie said, nonchalantly going back to the book in his hands. Doing your best to ignore the flustered expression you knew was growing on your face, you turned back to the batter. Eddie always managed to draw out reactions from you, you were sure that was the main reason why he kept doing it.
I like unnerving you he’d said. Asshole, you thought fondly, glancing at him. A good chunk of flour dusted down towards your hands at the motion. Christ, how much flour was on your face?
“I’m going to slap you the second I put this into a pan,” you threatened, trying to get it all off.
Eddie’s grin morphed into something more. “Promises, promises,” he winked.
And there went the butterflies in your stomach.
You opened your mouth to say something else when a blur of curly hair, black shirts, and a flying white shoe flung the kitchen door open.
“Guys,” Eddie warned, placing his book down.
“For fuck’s sake, what’s wrong now?” You said, putting the bowl down onto the kitchen island and stepping towards them with your hands on your hips.
Dustin was the quickest to speak up. “He borrowed the comic that I just managed to get and got it wet!”
“It wasn’t on purpose!” Mike shouted back. “I swear, Holly was eating at the table and spilled her soda!”
“Likely story!” Dustin snapped, eyes narrowing. “You’re doing it because I accidentally broke your figurines last week. I didn’t want to hit that pothole and go flying!”
“For the love of- it wasn’t on purpose!”
Dustin’s arms swung out and Mike darted left to avoid being hit. Before they could even crash together, you knew exactly what was going to happen.
As if in slow motion, you watched as Dustin shoved Mike’s arm into the mixing bowl. Without much prompting, your perfect batter, went tumbling off the island and flew with a vengeance in a million different directions. The opened bag of flour next to it, toppled right after it.
The silence as the bowl wobbled to a stop was painful. You blinked, shocked for a few seconds and nodded dumbly.
Well, that hurt more than the demobats clawing at your neck in the Upside Down.
“I’m going to rip your spines out and play jump rope with it,” you said calmly, eye twitching, at Mike and Dustin. The flour was splattered everywhere, including your new vans and the crevices no one was ever able to clean in the cracks of the linoleum.
The two idiots shuffled closer to the door. At least they had the decency to look somewhat mortified. Before you could go through with your threat, Eddie’s hands came down to their necks and they both winced.
“Dudes, not cool,” he said, voice uncharacteristically serious. “She said don’t come into the kitchen for a reason. Now she’s gotta wait until you two assholes clean this all up before starting again.”
“Wha-” “But!”
Their protests quickly died down when he smacked them in the back of their heads.
“You break it, you fix it,” he said.
Hiding a smile, you rounded the island towards the rag by the sink and sighed. “Try to hurry, I want to get this decorated before midnight,” you said to the two apologetic teens who were already moving towards the mess.
Pushing the door out into the dining room you tried your best not to trek batter anywhere. Swiping the rag down your face and hair to get rid of any remaining flour you leaned down to help save your vans.
A sudden hand flying out towards your face made you flinch back. Falling onto your butt, you groaned as your hip smacked into the leg of the table.
Eddie shook his head, a soft expression on his face. Your eyes trailed down to where his hand was curled around the corner of the dining table. “Did I almost go face first into that?” You asked from where you were sprawled.
“Yeah, Nova, you almost cracked your skull,” he said, huffing a laugh. “I’d tell you to be more careful but it’d be a waste of breath.” Eddie tugged the rag out your hand and sat down by your feet.
“I-I am insulted.” The indignation cancelled out by the stammering. Eddie had picked up one of your, now dirty, sneakers and plopped it into his lap. He went about meticulously cleaning the chocolate off. “I can do that. You don’t have to-”
His brown eyes darted up to yours, silencing you. “I know I don’t have to; I want to.”
Mildly surprised, and a little flustered by his earnest tone, you nodded dumbly. By the time he was done, there was a pink tinge to his cheeks that you found stupidly endearing.
“There you go fair maiden. Good as new.” He bowed, dropping the rag onto the table. He offered his hand and pulled you up with a firm grip.
Warmth bloomed in your chest at the sight of his wide smile and soft gaze. “Thanks Eddie,” you said, smiling up at him.
He tossed an arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards the kitchen. “Come on, let’s go give them a little more hell,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.
Not one to resist, you beamed up at him and nodded. “Dibs on Mike,” you said, laughing when he did.
2. Covering you with a blanket when you look cold.
You met Eddie when you were in middle school but, you hadn’t really become friends until freshman year of high school. You were a cheerleader, one of the few freshmen on the team, and you’d caught Tommy Hagan cornering Eddie in a hallway.
You hadn’t hesitated at the sight of the stupid bully and had thrown your pompoms at his head. With a promise of a Herkie to the face, Tommy and his entourage had left you alone.
“Are you okay?” You asked him, bending over to pick up your tossed pompoms.
Eddie, however, hadn’t looked like he was two seconds away from being shoved into a locker. He was beaming. At you.
“What?” You asked, looking around at the empty hallway. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, I just…didn’t ever think that my knight in shining armor would be a cheerleader,” he said, tone teasing.
Biting back a smile, you crossed your arms. “Why? Because we’re vapid and only care about our hair?” You cocked your hip.
“No,” Eddie said, straightening, “I swear, that’s not what I-”
Not able to help it, you burst out into laughter. “I’m fucking with you,” you said, hiding your laugh behind your hand. “I know Tommy’s little sister and she basically rules his household. He knows not to mess with her.”
Eddie smiled and you’d realized that he had a really nice smile. With a flourish, he bowed. “Well, I’m in your debt knight.”
Scrunching your nose, you shook your head. “Not a fan of the nickname?” He asked, starting towards the exit doors. Walking backwards, he drifted closer to you. “What about Nova?”
“What?” You laughed, surprised. “How’d you go from Knight to Nova?”
“Well, you’re my knight in shining armor – what’s brighter than a supernova?”
Throwing your head back, your laugh echoed down the hallway. You’d quickly become friends.
“Novaaaa, come on,” Eddie groaned, flopping down onto the sofa, “just pick a movie.” Clearly, almost a decade later, the nickname had stuck.
“Don’t rush me!” You told him, eyeing the three tapes in front of you. “Which one do you want to watch?”
Eddie’s head lolled back around to you and he smiled. “It’s your turn to pick,” he reminded you.
“I know, but-”
“Just put on Grease,” Eddie said, voice muffled by the pillow. You were about to protest, what an absolutely rude assumption, when a knock echoed from Eddie’s front door. “Pizza’s here. Pick a movie!”
Sighing, knowing that he’d had a bad week, you pushed Indiana Jones into the VCR. The smell of hot pizza wafted over to you and your stomach immediately roared – reminding you that you hadn’t had enough time to eat before your shift.
“Alright, alright, I heard you,” Eddie said, motioning to your stomach. He brought the box over, handing you some water and frowned at the television. “What’s this?”
“Indianamph Jonesah,” you said, around a mouthful of steaming pizza. You were going to miss your tastebuds but goddamn if it wasn’t a great mouthful.
Eddie rolled his eyes, pulled the tape out and shoved Grease in. Dodging your flailing arm, he dropped to the floor by the coffee table, his shoulder brushing your knee.
The opening music started and you found your eyes drawn to the screen. “What the hell?”
“I got that because I know you like to watch one of the same five movies after a long shift,” he said, picking up his own slice.
“But-”
He bumped your leg with his shoulder. “It was your turn to pick, I promise – I don’t mind. Besides, it’s starting to grow on me. It’s definitely better than Overboard.”
“Hey, that’s a good movie!”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Right, and I’m Ozzy Osbourne.”
“Well,” you said with a smile growing, “you had the chance to bite off a bat’s head but you wasted that opportunity.”
Choking on his mouthful of pizza, Eddie laughed and shot you a soft look. “I’m glad my brush with death is something you can laugh about now.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been almost a year. Thought it was about time we all started joking about almost dying,” you said, “besides, Max started it.”
“I’ve never met another person with such morbid humor,” Eddie said, eyes following Danny and Sandy as they kissed on the beach. A flash of something shot through you but you ignored it.
You shrugged despite the fact that you knew he couldn’t see it. “I’m kinda proud of her for having it,” you said, bopping your head to the music you knew by heart.
I solve my problems and I see the light
We gotta loving thing, we gotta feed it right
Eddie turned to you suddenly, his eyes shifting. “Yeah, I’m proud of all of us.”
You grinned at him, dropping your plate onto the table and getting comfortable on Eddie’s couch. It was one of his better purchases – Wayne had chosen to accept the new trailer the state had bought him while Eddie had moved into a small one bedroom downtown. It made more sese considering it was close to the music store you both worked at.
“I’m not pausing the movie if you knock out,” he warned as you fluffed the pillow behind your head.
“I’m not going to fall asleep, when am I ever the one who knocks out first?”
Eddie shot you a look. “Did you want me to bring out a list or?”
Smacking the back of his head, he ducked and laughed when you half missed your target. “Alright, alright, I’m missing the good stuff.”
“I knew you liked this movie,” you said, nudging him with your knee. Eddie shot you a withering glare, or he tried to, because you laughed at his attempt. Amused, his eyes drifted to over your head and you were about to turn when something dropped into your lap.
Eddie pulled the crocheted blanket over your legs and let it pool around your waist. The black and white blanket had been gifted to Eddie by Robin. She’d decided she was going to learn to crochet last year and spent the entire months leading up to Christmas lost in her projects. Your green scarf was hanging with your jacket by the door. You loved this blanket and you knew Eddie did too – it was always draped across the sofa for easy access.
“My place gets cold at night,” he said at your questioning look, “you know that. Besides, you’ll make it an hour before knocking out.”
The sweet gesture was overshadowed by his smug look and your hand jutted out to hit any part of him you could reach. “I’m not going to fall asleep.”
Both of you went back and forth, poking fun, and as you watched Danny ignore Sandy for Cha-Cha, you heard Eddie snort.
“What?” You asked, tapping your fingers along to the beat.
“I just always thought it was funny how he leaves her behind, he just goes with it,” he said.
You pointed to the cameras. “They’re on live television,” you explained sleepily.
“So?” Eddie raised his brow. “Are you defending him?”
“Of course not!” Why was this couch so comfortable? The blanket moved around you, warm hands tucking it over your shoulders and sighing when you snuggled into it.
Eddie’s knowing smile went a little fuzzy around the edges as your eyes felt harder and harder to keep open. Before you could formulate a comeback, the exhaustion of the day pulled you under. As you were entirely lost to the world, you heard Eddie murmur, “I would never leave you behind.”
3. Holding your hand when you’re falling apart.
Four years of cheerleading practice had not prepared you for what it truly meant to run for your life. Not really.
It stood to reason that you’d really never had to run from an interdimensional monster before – up until your employment at The Gap. Honestly, it was The Gap’s fault.
You’d met Robin at the first Hawkins Middle School band practice as small seventh graders. Her mom had told her she needed to get a job for the summer and she’d dragged you along with her. She had gotten hired at Scoops Ahoy and, in your defense, who was going to say no to a daily free ice cream? So, if you really thought about it – it was Scoop’s fault. And Robin’s.
The moment you saw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington behind the counter, you should’ve turned the other way. But no, Robin was absolutely sure he’d changed. You snorted. Sure, he’d changed. Having all your friends drop you towards the end of your senior year would humble anyone. You’d been close enough to the source when the downfall of The Hair happened. It hadn’t been pretty. Especially after Nancy Wheeler decided to stick by Jonathan.
While he hadn’t been one of the few who liked to remind you of your low spot on the totem pole, he definitely wasn’t Mother Theresa. You’d seen how his friends treated Eddie’s friends – people who they deemed outcasts. Eddie had only been mostly spared because you two were practically fused at the hip. Besides, he knew that Nancy liked you – the two of you had hung out before considering you’d both been close friends with Barb. While you and her weren’t best friends, you knew he didn’t want to mess with anyone Nancy liked. Which, really, made him a selfish, self-centered asshole. And anyway, you’d seen what he’d spray painted onto the theater header.
It wasn’t until you saw him with Dustin, one of your favorite neighbors, that you’d conceded. How could someone who clearly held a middle schooler up to such high standards be that bad? Besides, Dustin was a kid – but you trusted him. Robin, of course, still held that against you to this day.
To be fair, Steve himself hadn’t won you over until he’d taken hit after hit to keep you and Robin as safe as possible. Russians in a secret lab under Starcourt injecting you with truth serum was not something you’d had on your 1985 bingo card.
You still remembered how Steve had grabbed each of your wrists so tightly that it’d taken weeks for the bruises to fade. He’d practically tossed you both under a massive table when the Mind Flayer had landed mid-food court. Robin clutched at your shoulders, Steve a steadying presence behind you.
He’d waited, for hours, as the EMTs cleared all of you outside the burning mall. And while you’d hoped that this was the last time any of your friends, new or old, had tried to save you – clearly that had been wishful thinking.
The muscles in your arms burned as you hauled yourself through the gate. Breath knocked out of you as you landed on your back, you glanced up to see Eddie’s hands stilling on the makeshift rope.
“Come on!” Dustin screamed. “Eddie come on!”
A flash of something crossed his expression and you knew. You knew he was going to do something stupid.
“Eddie!” You screamed, voice cracking in your desperation. His wide eyes struck yours and you knew the moment he’d decided. “Don’t you fucking dare! Edward Munson, you listen to me right now. Climb this fucking rope.”
“I’m sorry Nov,” he said, staring up at you with a sad smile. Without thinking, you scrambled to throw yourself down the gate but the rope dropped by your feet, cut from the source. “I love you. Take care of Dustin,” he said, eyes sincere and apologetic.
“Eddie!” You both screamed, voices hoarse.
Panic clawed at your chest. You couldn’t breathe – he was…he was going to get himself fucking killed. Spurring into action, Dustin pushed you aside as he grunted from the effort of pushing the dining table towards the middle of the room. “Come on! Those things will kill him, we gotta get back!”
Not one to be told twice, you shoved a few pieces of furniture on top of the table for good measure. You climbed up to the gate, barely able to touch the edges. Adrenaline rushed through you as you looked down to Dustin. “Give me a boost, I can almost reach it!”
Without hesitating, Dustin kneeled, hands on your calves and you used his knee to hoist yourself up. You didn’t have much time to adjust yourself but you channeled every tumbling move you’d ever done and tried to tuck and roll. Mostly successful, you only winced as your shoulder collided painfully with the metal chair.
“Okay, I’ll be right back!”
“You can’t just fucking leave me here!” Dustin shouted. You pointed up at him with all the authority you could muster.
“Try to tie more sheets together, the others will need help climbing through when they come back,” you glared at him, “don’t do anything stupid Henderson.”
Not waiting for a response, you kicked the trailer door open and scanned the field. A tornado of bats and a loud, heartbreaking, scream cut through you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you fucking idiot,” you said, panicking as you ran. You watched as the bats took turns diving for him, his spear barely keeping them back.
“Come on!” He screamed into the eye of the storm. Because of course he did. The idiot. You willed your legs to run faster, to just get you there so you could help. Then, they struck. Eddie’s hands whipped up to his throat and you watched him slam into the floor.
“Eddie!” You screamed, throat raw, but it was drowned out by the screeching bats. A flash of Billy being impaled, lifted into the air, and thrown like a ragdoll bubbled up to your consciousness. No, please, you begged, not Eddie, not him.
Slowing as you neared, you pulled the gun from around your shoulders and squared them like Hopper had taught you. The shots echoed despite the chaos, your blood rushing through your body. “Get away from him!” You shrieked, fighting your way through the opening you’d created.
You slipped on the unmoving body of the ones you’d shot down and slid directly into an motionless Eddie. Covering his body with your own, you raised your gun as they swooped down. Almost out of bullets, you’d just hit another when one managed to swipe you from the side – claws digging into your skin. Screaming, you waved the gun like Steve’s bat and swatted as many as you could out the air.
Shit, you couldn’t keep this up. There were too many.
Then, as if puppets that were cut, they all dropped to the floor. One slammed into your bad shoulder painfully and you cried out.
“Nov?”
The weak voice was like beacon and you quickly slid to the ground. You weren’t going to question your good luck. Pulling the leather jacket off his chest your heart dropped down next to the dead demobats and you immediately started to cry.
“That bad huh?” He joked, voice wet as blood poured out his mouth.
“You absolute fucking asshole. You dickhead,” you berated him as you tied your own cargo jacket around the gash in his stomach. Rising to your knees, you quickly pulled your belt off your waist and made a tourniquet around his upper thigh. Your hands were drenched in blood and you forced the bile down. Focus, you need to stop the bleeding. You needed to get him back to the trailer, you yelled at yourself.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie’s weak hand came up to your forearm and your heart creaked as the cracks deepened. “It’ll be okay.”
“No it won’t you fucking moron, you’re my best friend – I – can’t watch you die. I won’t,” you said, hauling him onto your lap. You tried to stand but your shoulder immediately gave and you both crashed to the ground.
A sob wrenched it’s way out your throat, helpless and willing your shoulder to work. Just this time, please, please, you begged.
“Nova,” Eddie’s voice trailed off, weaker than before.
Cradling his stupid face, your hands left streaks of blood on his pale skin. Shaking, your fingers caressed his jaw. The brown eyes, more familiar to you than your own, slowly started to fade.
“Eddie, stay with me, someone’s coming okay – it’s going to be okay,” you said, entire body clinging to his.
“I-I told you this was my year,” he said, blood tricking down. His unseeing eyes searched for you, like they always did, and you realized that you wouldn’t survive this. Eddie was going to fade from existence, the entire town thinking him a murderer, and this would finally be the storm that broke you.
“I can’t live without you,” you stammered, words bubbling up in rapid succession, you had things you needed to say – stuff you needed to do with him still. You were supposed to have time – it wasn’t supposed to end this way. Jaw aching as you bit down your anguish, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and he sighed. “Eddie, please,” you begged, unashamed and desperate.
Take me, you begged the dark skies that mocked you, anyone but him.
“I l-love-” he gagged, choking on his own blood and you pressed your forehead against his.
“Sh, sh, it’s okay, I’m here Eddie. I’m here. I know. Me too,” you said, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Sorry you weren’t fast enough, sorry you couldn’t save him, sorry for having to be the one to watch him die. Eddie’s hand came up to your wrist, squeezing once before dropping limp.
The silence around you was deafening. No, no, no, no.
You screamed, anguished, and the pain unbearable. Anger coursed through you, mixing with your overwhelming grief. It crashed into you from all angles, its hands grabbing onto you and pulling you under. Your throat hurt but you couldn’t stop screaming, all of you couldn’t stop screaming in the unfairness of it all.
“Eddie?” A voice shouted through the darkness. You whipped your head up, searching through the night for the voice.
“Steve?” You called out tentatively, hand reaching for your discarded gun. Was this a trick? You scanned your surroundings, vision blurry. No, you steeled yourself, this place had already taken everything from you – they couldn’t have his body too.
Swinging the gun towards the quick footsteps, you ignored your trembling arms.
“Hey, hey! Wait, it’s me,” Steve said, hands up. He stepped in front of Robin, his eyes on the still body behind you.
Eyes wild, you blinked away your constant tears, and loosened the hold on your gun. “Stevie?”
“It’s me, it’s me – I promise,” he said, hand coming out to take your shotgun. Handing it to Nancy, he pulled you into his arms. “What happened?” He winced when he saw your skin bleeding sluggishly.
“Eddie?” Robin whispered, dropping to her knees beside him.
Willing yourself to keep it together you nodded towards the house. “What happened?”
“He’s dead, we got him – Nance got him. It’s over.”
Feeling weak, you leaned on Nancy’s outstretched arm and watched as Steve dropped to examine him.
“He’s – he – cut the rope – I tried, my shoulder – it, oh God,” you said, scrambling towards the nearest wall and throwing up everything in your stomach. A warm hand came up to your back, rubbing it back and forth until your heaving stopped.
“I got you,” Nancy said, “I’m here, it’s okay. I’m here for you.”
He was dead. Eddie was gone. Nothing would ever be okay again.Your blood-soaked hands reached out and she clasped them. Eyes on yours, strong and steady, she nodded. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“Nance,” your voice sounded warped. “I tried.”
She shushed you, bringing your arm over her shoulders and taking most of your weight as you crumbled. You watched as Robin and Steve grabbed him, moving quickly towards the trailer.
“What? Where are you going?” Nancy shouted.
Robin grunted under the weight as she climbed the steps. “He’s got a pulse! The tourniquets are holding! We gotta move fast!”
.
Coincidentally, the nearest hospital to Forest Park was at the town line one over. Robin had assured you that since it wasn’t Hawkins, they weren’t likely to recognize him instantly. Worry for Max joined your overwhelming weight as you glanced at the destruction the earthquake had wreaked. “Do you think he got her?” You asked, voice barely audible.
“I killed him as the clock was chiming,” Nancy said, “it only rang three times. I’ll call when we get to the hospital – they’ll be okay. We’re all okay. We have to be.”
After admitting Eddie, a concerned nurse offered you a pair of scrubs to change into. Glancing down at your clothes, you realized you were covered in blood. Eddie’s blood.
Tearing up, her eyes had softened incredibly and she helped you wash it off. “It’ll all work out honey, you’ll see,” she whispered as the blood dribbled down the drain. You’d barely felt the needle as she stitched the claw marks on your chest and neck.
It’d taken an hour of arguing but you promised the others you could keep it together for the night as they drove back to Hawkins to figure out what was going on. Robin had kissed the top of your now clean hair, and clasped her hands with yours. “I will be back as soon as I can, okay? As fast as I can.” The fierceness in her tone had your eyes tearing up again and she hugged you tightly.
Five hours after being admitted, with no news, you received the second shock of the night.
“Hopper?” You sputtered, almost bowled over to see the ghost of your old Chief of police.
Head shaved, a few pounds lighter, but the smile that came from hearing your voice was just the same. “Hey kid,” he said, bringing you into a tight hug.
It took another hour, and the arrival of just about everyone you knew, for a nurse to let you know that Eddie had stabilized. They’d needed to operate to stop the internal bleeding, he’d needed a few blood transfusions and was placed into a medically induced coma, but he’d be alright.
“He’s…he’ll be okay?” You asked, not willing to cling onto any false hope.
The nurse from earlier stepped forward, her kind eyes wrinkled as she smiled. “Yeah, honey, he’ll be okay.”
Swallowing back your tears, you pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”
Two hours later, while you sat glued to his side, Hopper let you know that Eddie was cleared of all charges.
“Do you want to know?” He asked.
Shaking your head, you smiled up at him for the first time in the last twelve hours. The sun peaked out from the horizon, drenching Eddie’s dark room in a warm orange light. “I don’t care how. Just – thank you.”
Hopper ruffled your hair and you leaned into his touch like cat arching for more affection. “They’ll want your statement but not until a few days from now. As far as you know, you were over Robin’s with Steve for the entire night. Her neighbor, Mrs. Matthews has already said she could corroborate your alibi.”
Smiling, you nodded. “I don’t even want to know what the U.S. government had on her.”
“You don’t,” he agreed.
It took Eddie another day to wake up. Wayne had finally convinced you to go get something to eat, I won’t leave his side sweetheart, I promise.
You balanced the two coffees in your hand as you pushed open the door to Eddie’s room. Surprised to see the entire party surrounded by the bed, you blinked, a little taken aback.
Dustin was the first to catch your eye, his grin so wide it almost split his face in two. “Eddie’s awake!” Your eyes darted to the bed, the man in it grinning up at a tearful Wayne.
“You absolute asshole,” you hissed, not able to keep it down.
The party laughed, Steve shaking his head. “Hi Nova,” Eddie said, voice hoarse, and you felt your stomach swoop as those eyes met yours. “I’m sorry.”
“You better be,” you said, handing Wayne his coffee. He promised to be back, wanting to speak to the doctor. The moment the door closed; chaos reigned. Everyone talked over each other and you watched, amused. Sipping your coffee, you smacked Lucas’ shoulder as he made fun of something Mike said.
Steve’s whistle was loud enough to pierce several eardrums and you winced. “One at time! The man just woke up from a coma.”
“Medically induced coma,” Mike clarified.
You fought the urge to smack him too.
Despite the severity of what brought Eddie to the hospital, after a week – he was given the all clear. The party was at Eddie’s new trailer, decorating the larger space for his homecoming. You’d been tasked to watch over the patient. You’d arrived early, still not entirely able to have him out of your sights for too long. As you popped your head in, you realized he was asleep.
Dropping into the comfortable chair next to his bed, you set yourself up for waiting. In the past week and a half, you hadn’t managed to find a moment alone with Eddie. There was always a party member at his bedside at all times. Or a band member. Or a parent.
Eddie’s room had quickly become well known for the noise and chattering that spilled out into the hallways. At its absence, you realized you didn’t know what to do.
Smacking his lips, Eddie’s head moved towards the door, eyes still closed. As he shifted, you caught sight of the large bandage by his neck. The purple bruising on his arms looked painful and your chest clenched at the sight of them.
It seemed that before you could decide for yourself, the silence swallowed you whole. Bringing you hand up to your lips, you tried to silence your sobs. Chest heaving with the effort, you buried your face into your hands and cried. The last week of pushing everything down and resolving to deal with it later had finally caught up to you.
Everyone has their reckoning, you were reminded. This was yours.
A warm hand came up to your shoulder, the bandaged one, and softly caressed where the tape adhered to your skin. “Hey you,” he said, sleep clinging to the corner of his knowing gaze.
“I’m sorry,” you sputtered, trying to push it back down but there was no use. Pandora’s box had been opened. Turning from him, you caught sight of his frown. His pained grunt made you whip back to him and you almost tripped over your own feet as you rushed to help. Eddie’s expression was twisted as he sat up, sweat beading at his temples.
“Lie down, you psychopath,” you said once the lump in your throat let you speak. “The bed will move for you! You just had surgery on your side for fuck’s sake.” You ducked your head, trying to avoid his eyes as you adjusted the bed to his liking.
Stubborn as always, Eddie tapped your forearm. “Don’t hide from me, not you,” he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. Giving in, you let your blurry sight find his and he sighed. “Nova, you should’ve told me.”
“Told you what?” You said through desperate inhales.
“That you’d been bottling it up – come here,” he said. You wished you could climb into the bed with him but you couldn’t, his incision still very off limits to movement. You were trying to decide where to touch, when he decided for you. His right hand opened, fingers wiggling towards you. “Come on.”
Interlocking your fingers with his, relishing in the touch, you pressed the back of his hand to your cheek. His pulse beat against yours, alive – wondrously and beautifully alive. This, this was what you needed. A moment to lose it before rearranging the bricks of your mental foundation back in place. The image of him, eyes unseeing, bubbled to the surface and despair twisted it’s venomous grip around your lungs.
Choking, you let the sob come out unbidden. Not sure you could stop it if you wanted to, you let the tears drown you. Weeping, you whimpered as you accepted what could’ve been. What you would’ve had to watch. The fact that you would’ve had something so important ripped from your grasp.
He's okay, you thought, he’s alive.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice a quiet echo of Nancy’s lost words. “I’m here. I got you.” After a few minutes, your chest stopped heaving and you could take a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” you told him, a little embarrassed. “Thank you.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling your hand from your face and towards his own. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles and you blinked at him.
“Why are you sorry?” Christ, you were a mess. He’d been in a coma for two days and he was comforting you. He’d almost died and you were too weak to be strong for your friend.
“I’m sorry for leaving you,” he said, “I’m sorry that you had to be the one I left behind. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that. I’m sorry for hurting you even if I’d do it again if it meant you were safe. It was scary and I’m sorry for doing that to you, no matter how important it was that I did it.”
His thumb caressed your hand and you bit back the tears that wanted to wail out to the world that you’d almost lost something that couldn’t be replaced. But the silence that fell was comforting, a soft and easy kind. One that didn’t need to be filled and his pulse was a balm soothing your raw panic.
And yet -
“Don’t leave me here alone. It’s your Sam calling,” you said, eyes on his. A small real, smile broke out on his face and he squeezed your hand.
Despite the bandages across his jaw, and the wince of pain as he shifted, you hadn’t seen someone look so beautiful.
“Don’t go where I can’t follow, wake up Mr. Frodo,” Eddie whispered and you beamed at him.
4. Telling you to call them so they know you got home safe.
“For fuck’s sake,” you hissed, rubbing your temples as you watched Robin hop on top of a bar table to dance.
Eddie’s laughter hit your ear and you shivered at the warmth. “Come on Nov, she looks like she’s having fun,” he said, chest pressed against your back. Tucking his chin over your shoulder, you finally waved down the bartender.
“Can I have another club soda please?” You asked, handing her the money. She nodded, eyes drifting to Eddie and smiling.
“You two are a really cute couple,” she said, sliding the glass towards you.
Opening your mouth to correct her, Eddie beat you to it. “Thank you!” At your glance, he shrugged. “It’s easier to go along with.”
Something in your chest tightened at the thought but you shrugged. “Jesus, Eddie, can you bring her down? She’s going to end up falling and cracking her neck.”
Eddie sighed, his warm hand coming up to squeeze your waist. “We really need to stop promising to be the babysitters,” he said, lips brushing against your temple before leaving to drag a protesting Robin off the sticky table.
“Hey,” a guy to your left said, his hair long and pin straight.
You turned to him, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to make it look like you were welcoming any type of flirting. Eddie already had to shove a creep with a persistent attitude off of Nancy. “Hi,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
“Sorry to bother you,” he said, a little too quiet for the noise level inside, “but is that the lead singer of Corroded Coffin?”
Relief flooded through you and your shoulders dropped. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Holy shit, I saw his band last month when he was the opening act for Riot Act. I’m a big fan! They’ve got a great sound,” he said awed. “Sorry! I’m Jack.”
“Hey, I’m-”
“-here with someone,” Eddie’s voice floated over your shoulder and towards the straightening man on the stool.
A little surprised by Eddie’s furrowed expression, and practically thrown by the small ember of something in your spine at his serious tone, you placed a hand on his and smiled up at him. “This is Jack, he’s a fan of Corroded Coffin’s.”
Eddie’s expression completely transformed, a wide smile overtaking the sharp look in his eyes. “Oh man, thanks! Sorry, you know how these bars can get.”
“Yeah,” Jack said, brightening, “totally! Are you guys going to be playing somewhere else soon? I heard a few people say you might be going to Sold Out in Indianapolis!”
Eddie rubbed the back of his neck and you could tell he was flustered by the pink tinge to his neck. “We are! We’re going to be there for a few weekends for the next couple months. We start sometime in the summer. Still ironing out a few details.”
“That’s great! I’m sorry for asking but, do you mind signing something for me?” Jack asked, excitement growing his eyes.
Both of you thrown, you felt your own giddiness build in your chest. “He’d love to,” you answered for a stunned Eddie. “In fact, the entire band is here tonight. You’ll have to excuse everyone else – we’re the designated drivers. They might be a little drunk.”
At the promise of more autographs, Jack straightened. “Holy shit, yeah that’d be amazing. Thank you so much,” he stammered, grabbing a clear napkin from behind the bar and pulling a pen from his coat. “My friends are going to shit themselves.”
You squeezed Eddie’s hand when you saw it trembling as he signed with a flourish. Shooting you a grateful look, he walked Jack over to where Jeff and Gareth were chanting chug, chug, chug! at a teetering Liam.
Jesus, you sighed, rolling your eyes when Jeff’s excited hand swatted too close to Liam and he started coughing up the beer.
Turning back to your drink, you didn’t wait long before you felt Eddie’s palm at your lower back. “Well, that happened.”
Not missing a beat, you turned with a crumpled napkin and wide eyes. “Oh my God, sir, would you autograph my napkin too?”
Eddie laughed, shaking his head, and he shoved your shoulder. “Shut up,” he grumbled, motioning to the bartender for his own club soda. “You brat.”
Grinning, you bumped his shoulder with your own. “I’m glad I’ll be able to say I knew you when you were a nerdy freshman.”
“I’m still that nerdy freshman,” he huffed, “people just actually like my singing now.”
The band on stage switched to a fast paced song and the bar emptied a little as people flew to the dance floor. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. They really deserved this. You crossed your fingers beneath the bar and hoped it was just the beginning.
“To be fair, I always liked your singing,” you told him, poking his chest. Eddie’s eyes shifted and you felt the same tightening again.
His eyes dropped back to yours, something new swimming in them, and your breath stuttered in your lungs. “I know you have,” he said, gaze darting across your face. “You’ve always been there for me.”
Not able to take the pressure in your sternum, you huffed. “And don’t forget that when you’re rich and famous, okay? I want a fancy BMW so I can taunt Steve with it.”
Eddie threw his head back and laughed. Instead of breaking the spell, your eyes drifted to his neck and you briefly thought about how appealing the muscles there were. Straightening so quickly that your spine audible snapped, you swallowed nervously.
What the fuck was that?
The look Eddie shot your way let you know that he’d caught whatever that was. Your mind raced in a thousand different directions but before you could choose a route to go down, a body pressed itself into your side.
“You guys, Jonathan puked,” Gareth said, matter of fact. “It was funny but then Steve started gagging.”
Liam joined in next, his eyes glazed. “Steve said he’s a sy-symp- sympat-” his face scrunched together when he realized he wasn’t getting the word out.
“He’s a sympathy puker?” You guessed, already knowing Steve wasn’t the best around puke. He was always the first domino to fall during hangover mornings.
“Ugh, you’re so smart,” Jeff complimented.
Brows rising, you elbowed Eddie. “Time to corral?” Sighing, Eddie nodded.
“Grab as many as you can and shove them into the right car,” he said, hands coming out to grab his bandmates before they could drift off. “Meet outside in ten?”
“Minutes?” You asked incredulously. “It’s going to take at least that long to get Steve to stop gagging.”
“Bet you five I can get them out in fifteen.”
Rolling your eyes, you slapped his outstretched hand. “That’s an easy win.”
And sure enough, you leaned against Steve’s car with an amused expression as Eddie tried for the fourth time to load Jeff into his van. You glanced at Robin, who was talking animatedly with Gareth about what sounded like cheese fries. A blur in the corner of your eye caught your attention and you watched Liam open the passenger door and pass Jonathan his joint.
“Jesus,” Eddie groaned, “okay you win, please, just-” he waved his hand towards your friends.
“Robin get in the car we have to go now,” you said firmly, knowing she was the hardest to convince but the one everyone would follow once she was.
Her expression morphed into indignation. “Gareth thinks bacon on fries is better than cheese! That’s – that’s treason.”
“Because it is better!” He said, clutching his head.
“Alright you two, you’re both right, how about that?” You turned to Gareth and glared until he simpered off towards Eddie without a backwards glance. “And you, into the car.”
“But-”
“I’ll tell everyone what you’re hiding in the box at the back of your closet,” you threatened. She paled and tripped in her hurry to the car. She knocked into a sleeping Nancy, who grunted when she landed in the middle seat with a loud thump.
“Byers, get your ass in gear or I’m telling Joyce!”
A sheepish Jonathan crawled into the car, jostling Robin who cried out and accidentally smacked a snoring Steve in the passenger seat. You quickly shut the door and locked them in. With a flourish, you took your bow and Eddie clapped. “I admit defeat o’great knight.”
“Knight in shining armor, please,” you clarified.
“Of course, of course.”
“You okay with your lot?” You asked, nodding to where Liam was starting to look a little green.
Eddie snorted. “Yeah, they’ll be fine. What about you?”
“Jonathan and Nancy live nearby, the rest of us are crashing at Steve’s. Like the good ol’ days,” you joked, shivering when a sudden cold gust of air blew your hair into your eyes.
A pair of hands came up to your arms, rubbing some warmth into them and you smiled. “Lucky, Gareth and Liam live in completely different directions,” he said with a roll of his eyes. You pointed to car behind him.
“You should lock them in before one makes a break for it,” you said, yawning and checking the time. Without giving you time to think, Eddie pulled you into a tight hug. Never needing a reason, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed just as tightly back. His cold nose nudged your temple, inhaling deeply and you lean your face against his chest. His heartbeat fast and yours quickly matched its pace. With a soft sigh, Eddie let you go.
“Hey, but seriously, I’m so happy everyone else is finally seeing what I always did,” you told him, pinching one of his cheeks for levity.
Instead, he smiled at you softly. A small, little shy smile that made your heart flip. “Yeah?” His eyes softened, the brown deepening with his gaze. You felt your chest tighten painfully this time. Turning back to hop into your car, you rolled the window down and Eddie leaned into your space.
“Don’t let it get to your big head.” Eddie smiled at your barb but his eyes trailed down your face, the look in his gaze different. You leaned back to examine it but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “What?” His eyes darted back up to yours and it clicked. It looked like he knew something you didn’t.
A little surprised at what he saw there, he shook his head. “Nothing, nothing, see you tomorrow at work?” That sounded like a diversion. You had a full shift tomorrow but he was on towards the end at closing.
“Yeah,” you said, not sure you wanted to let go of this. As if sensing it, he surged forward to press a kiss to your cheek and you blinked, surprised.
“Drive home safe, call me when you get there, okay?” He said. “Leave a message if I’m not home yet. I won’t be able to sleep if I think you’re dead in a ditch somewhere.”
That, in the end, got a smile out of you. “Who would’ve thought you and Harrington would turn into the mothers of this ragtag group?”
“Hey,” he said, hands on his hips in a clear imitation of Steve, “you love it.”
“Yeah,” you said, starting your car and rolling up your window, “I do!”
5. Bringing you something just because it reminded them of you.
“Fuuuck,” you squawked, feet sliding out from under you. Bracing for the impact, your eyes flew open when Eddie’s hands slide through your underarms and steadied you. He pulled you up, your knees aching, and you both stilled.
“That…would’ve been bad,” you said quietly, looking down at the wet pavement outside the Wheeler’s house. Eddie’s eyes were wide, his gaze on the puddles.
“Note to self, slippery driveways might take down the mighty Nova but demobats are a walk in the park,” Eddie said, grinning when you whacked him.
“Ugh, they’re still outside,” Dustin shouted from the doorway, “come on, we’re taking a vote on which movie to watch first.”
Despite his teasing, you felt Eddie’s hand on your back – steady – as you followed Dustin towards the basement. Everyone was scattered, a few conversations going on at once. The party was back for the summer from college and, as tradition stated, a movie night was set on the first weekend.
El jumped up, grinning, and threw her arms around you. “Oh, hello,” you said, squeezing her tightly, “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you,” she said into your shoulder, words muffled. You glanced up to see Max tucked into Eddie’s embrace. He smiled when they swapped and Max’s grip bruised you. Kissing her temple, you watched them tumble back onto the first couch – Mike and Lucas waving at you both.
You made to step towards a beaming Will when a hand on your elbow stopped you. “Hey, I forgot to give this to you yesterday at work,” Eddie said, hand ruffling around in bag. He grinned after a moment, pulling it out triumphantly. A small drawstring bag swung wildly for a moment before coming to a stop. The black suede looked soft and lumpy.
“We just started that gig out at Sold Out last week and we were looking for something to eat before we drove back. I saw this in the window of a store and thought of you,” Eddie said, making your heart flip. You reached for the bag, a gold necklace spilling out the mouth.
“It’s a sunflower,” you said, voice faint, thumb tracing the small blooming flower.
Eddie nodded, already rooting in his bag for something else. “You said that was Barb’s favorite flower, right?” Suddenly, it felt like the entire room had gone quiet.
“It was,” Nancy said, leaning over your shoulder to look at the pendant. “She loved them, her room was covered.” An old memory flashed through your mind.
You’d met Barb when you were six, in kindergarten. She’d shared her chocolate with you and picked you as a partner for nap time. She had a sweet smile and gave great hugs. She was good and kind, and you’d been angry at the world for taking her. For a lot of things.
“Sunflowers symbolize friendship. But really, they just make me smile.”
For a moment, just a brief second, you could hear her light laughter echo within your memory. Nancy’s soft smile let you know that you weren’t alone.
“I thought you’d like it,” he said with a smile and you knew he was thinking of the tulips you’d both left at Chrissy’s grave last week. “This way you can have her close by.”
Nancy helped you clasp it around your neck and smiled down at you. Sound filtered back in as she grunted and turned to the boys. “Don’t throw the remote!”
You scrambled to stand before Eddie could find a seat, your had grabbing his. He stilled, looking back at you – the unasked question on his lips. Taking a step forward for a hug, for a second time within a span of five minutes, you tripped on a forgotten figurine. Eddie cradled you to him, staggered, but steady.
“Okay, I stand corrected. Rainy driveways and dnd figurines,” he joked, the smile from his gaze fading when he realized how close you’d landed.
The world moved around you both in a blur. This moment, you in his arms, had happened hundreds of times. You’d known Eddie for years, both of you were affectionate people. But this…was different. Time slowed and you felt Eddie’s pulse ricochet within your own, his lips parting in surprise. You eyes darted down to the movement, his lips chapped and in this bubble you’d created – a thought crossed your mind.
You wanted to press yours to his. You wanted to press every part of you against his.
Then, quickly, a second thought rose from your subconscious.
This wasn’t the first time you’d wanted to kiss him. It wasn’t the first time that your heart felt like it would burst at the sight of him. You liked the way your skin felt electrified at his touch. The way he always seemed to focus on you. The way you both always gravitated towards each other, like sunflowers bending towards the sun. Your eyes dipped lower and you felt a lump form in your throat. The way…you were dying to bite into that tattoo on his neck. The way you wondered if he’d squirm against you. If he’d push you into the-
Holy fucking shit, you loved Eddie. You were in love with Eddie. Your best friend. How the fuck had you been so blind?
Stumbling, you staggered back from his touch – not able to think clearly with him so close. You ripped your arms away from him and greedily sucked in air.
“What’s wrong?” Eleven asked you, realizing you were all but hyperventilating.
Pulse roaring in your ears, you didn’t know what to say. Dumbstruck, your limbs went numb as you finally met Eddie’s worried eyes. He stilled at the sight of your expression and suddenly the rug was pulled completely out from under you because he knew. The look in his eyes was one of complete and total understanding.
And you knew that he knew - and he knew that you knew that he knew.
Your mind flashed back to the moment outside the bar a few months ago. That look in his eyes. The way he’d been acting strange recently. He looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. Struck, you’d honestly be less shocked if the ground opened up and Vecna swallowed you whole.
His own panic flooding his face, he took a step forward.
“No!” You shouted, a touch too loud, your soul flying out your body and staring down at the situation with terror.
“Wait, just wait,” Eddie stammered, hands raised like he was approaching a scared animal. “Let’s talk about it.”
“Oh shit,” you heard Dustin mutter. The rest of room went silent.
Robin groaned, a soft thump following. “Oh no, this isn’t good.”
“Right now?” Steve hissed. “What the hell changed?”
“What the hell is happening?” Lucas grumbled.
Max sighed. “She just realized she’s in love with him.”
Eleven’s eyes widened and Lucas frowned. “Congratulations on being the last one to find out,” he said and somehow that made it worse. Your face crumpled and everyone’s glare turned towards him.
“Jesus Sinclair, have you heard of tact?”
Were you the absolute last person to know?
He was your best friend – you couldn’t, this would ruin everything. Oh God, what if he’d known and he never said anything because he didn’t feel the same? What if he did? You honestly didn’t know which was scarier.
As your friends descended into chaos, you glanced back at Eddie and found him frozen too. Overwhelmed and feeling like you’d been knocked around the ring a few times, you let your flight instinct take over. Taking the stairs two at a time, you were at the basement door in seconds.
Chaos erupted behind you.
You were at the door and fucking Christ, you couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t you breathe? Was the ground shaking?
“Stay here,” you heard Eddie bark at everyone, his had tone not leaving any room for argument. Despite it all, you felt the zing of something travel down your spine at the sound of it. Before you could even analyze it for what it was, it triggered another fresh wave of panic.
You knew he’d be close behind, but you were used to running for your life at this point. Practically racing down the driveway, you scrambled into your car and slammed the door shut. Your first mistake was trying to still your shaking hand to get it into the ignition.
A body half-slammed into your passenger door and you screamed, terror taking over your rational side for a moment.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! The fucking grass is wet and I slipped,” Eddie said, backing up with his palms up. “Nova, please, don’t go. Not like this. I-”
“Nope!” You said, feeling like a stupid child but you weren’t able to process right now. You’d known Eddie since you were fourteen. That was a decade. How the fuck had you been so blind? “I can’t – Eddie, I can’t! Just give me a second, okay? I need – I need to process. Alone.”
The world felt like it was crumbling. Like you were back in the hell hole, clinging to Steve and Eddie for balance as the ground shook beneath you. Oh God, this was going change everything.
Your second mistake was turning to look at him. The knot in your chest tightened beyond belief at the sight of the heartbreak in his eyes. A flash of movement brought your attention to the several heads peeking out from the windows. Eddie’s head whipped around and you could feel his glare from where you sat. “Jesus Christ, does anyone know what privacy means?” You knew it was bad when you couldn’t even muster up a smile.
“Nov…”
Like a cornered animal, you felt tears well up. “Please. I’m sorry. Please Eddie, please.” Panic clawed up your throat, threatening to pull you under. Black dots danced across your vision.
He smiled and your heart broke at the emptiness in it. “Yeah, Nov, it’s okay. I’ll go back inside, just- take a few deep breaths before you go. Okay? Don’t drive like this. Just, deep breathing, remember?”
You slammed your eyes shut; you didn’t have the strength to look at him anymore. You nodded, taking an unsteady deep inhale. How was it possible that you were the one running and he was still thinking of you?
Not sure how long you sat there but by the time you opened your eyes, your tremor had settled and Eddie was gone. Taking a deep breath, you turned your car on and peeled away from the Wheeler house.
It took Robin and Steve exactly ten hours before they showed up on your doorstep.
“I know you’re in there asshole, open up!” Robin screamed.
Jesus. You flung the door open and glared. “I have neighbors.”
“You look like shit,” Robin said, matter a fact, with a small smile on her face. You groaned, dropping your face into your palms and Steve sighed.
“For fuck’s sake Robin, it hasn’t even been a day,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you to the couch.
Not one to ever be excluded, Robin smushed herself next to you. Her thigh pressed against yours and you found yourself stuck between your two friends – friends you hadn’t ever been good at lying to.
“I know why you’re here,” you started.
Robin snorted. “Well duh, what’d you think? That we got up at nine in the morning to come wish you a good morning? Even Dingus knows better than that.”
Biting back a laugh at her quick retort, you caught Steve’s exasperated glance and nearly broke. “Do not enable the behavior,” he hissed. “How do you feel?”
What a loaded question.
“I feel a little numb. Sort of, like, if I don’t acknowledge this is happening then it isn’t,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, “which, I guess, is what got us both into this mess in the first place.”
Robin’s expression softened and you sighed. “I’m just…I feel embarrassed mostly. I didn’t mean to be so dramatic – I just…I was so overwhelmed and it felt like I was drowning. You were all staring at us and I couldn’t think – I couldn’t breathe.”
“Hey, give yourself some credit,” Robin said, “you needed space and time and you asked for it. Everyone needs to understand that boundary.”
“Except for you two,” you joked weakly.
Robin huffed, waving a hand in the air. “We don’t have boundaries-”
“-we should though-” Steve muttered.
“-once you’re tortured by Russians together, you’re bonded for life,” Robin continued, ignoring Steve’s scrunched expression.
They started to bicker good-naturedly and your mind drifted to Eddie. You felt horrible but it didn’t override your need to crawl under the covers and hide yourself from the world. The one question on your mind refused to be put to rest.
“How could I have been so blind?” You wondered, not realizing you’d said it out loud until Robin leaned some of her weight onto you.
Steve pulled himself closed to the edge so he could turn to look at you. His gaze was gentle, eyes on you. “I mean this genuinely with no judgement, but how could you not have noticed?”
You threw your hands out, Robin dodging your left one expertly. “I don’t know! I think I knew on some level and just ignored it? Its…scary, feelings this big for someone who’s your best friend. I’m so scared, I don’t want to lose him,” you admitted quietly. Steve sighed and you glanced at him. “When did you guys know?”
Steve frowned but Robin spoke first. “To be fair, I don’t think Eddie knew right away either. At least not that I could see and we’ve known each other for a while now too. I realized sophomore year,” she said. “You always had those damn starbursts around. I know your favorites are the red ones because Dustin tried to take one from your stash and you almost chewed his hand off.”
A pile of starbursts were tossed onto your kitchen counter now. “So?” You asked, confused at the connection.
“They’re Eddie’s favorites too and you always let him grab them. I don’t think he even knows you do that, to this day. Let’s not forget how any time either of you ever went on a date or, God forbid, had a relationship, the other was always in a constant mood.”
Before that could sink in, Steve stirred. “I realized when he’d come to visit you at Scoops. Remember when I’d smushed that sundae into you. We were waiting on Robin to come back, worried about the Russians and you’d insisted on staying to help us. You had finally decided I was worthy and we were laughing about something stupid Dustin had said.”
You knew what moment he was talking about – you’d forgotten to call Eddie and tell him you didn’t need a ride home anymore. He’d arrived, on time as always, and walked in on you and Steve wrestling over some spilled ice cream.
“I turned with your ice cream too fast and hit your chin. I was trying to clean it off but you’d taken a handful and shoved it down my uniform. Dustin was practically on the floor laughing and I was chasing you with the bowl. Eddie walked in and instantly hated me. I knew he thought I was flirting with you, which I wasn’t. It was something in the way he looked at me. He wasn’t mad that he thought I liked you, he was mad because he thought I wasn’t worth your time – you know? He wasn’t even jealous, just protective,” he said with a shrug. “With you, it took a while, I think. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same for some time. Not until I knew you better.”
“Oh,” you said, throat dry. “Did everyone know but me?”
Steve bumped your shoulder amicably. “Maybe. It’s obvious to everyone now but it’s because it’s like you’re two magnets. The second the other is in the vicinity, your gravitate together. It’s…natural, almost. Something you’d expect,” he nodded, blinking down at you. “Does that make sense?”
“No,” you said petulantly at the same time Robin nodded.
Rolling her eyes, she grasped your hands and squeezed them. It was reminiscent of that moment in the emergency room, her eyes wide but determined.
“What do you want to do about it?”
You shook your head. “Too big a question.”
Steve took over. “Okay…how do you feel? You can love him as your friend, or be in love with him as a person, but if you don’t want to risk that – it’s up to you. We can have our own opinions-”
“-that you two need to get your heads out of your asses-” Robin said, expression furrowing.
“-but,” he said, shooting her a look, “it’s your choice.”
Feeling like your chest would explode with it, you abruptly stood, needing the space to pace a hole in your carpet. Chewing on your nail, you flung another hand in the air and frowned. “Of course I love him, how could I not? He’s…he’s Eddie. He’s my Eddie. Sometimes, at night, before going to bed I think about it you know. I think about how we were too close to be just best friends. We did things that went far past platonic and it was addicting. I – fuck. I love him. I love him.”
Shoving Steve’s hand off her shoulder, Robin stood, her arms coming down to your shoulders and shaking you. “So, I ask again, what do you want to do about it?”
You started to shake your head but she shut it down. “No, enough with this. You’re the bravest of us all. What do you want to do about it?”
“Robin-”
She waved a hand in Steve’s direction, her blue eyes turning sharp. “Say it.”
The knot in your chest choked you as you swallowed nervously. You wrung your hands together but you knew. You didn’t feel unsettled and panicked because you didn’t want him – you felt off kilter because he wasn’t here. You’d run away when you really wanted to just be with him. You’d hurt the one person you never wanted to hurt.
“I want – I want to tell him. I need to tell him!” You said, spine straightening.
Robin smiled. “There she is.”
“Oh my God,” you said, hands coming up to your face. “I just ran away; he must be freaking out.”
Steve stood, grabbing a yellow starburst. “He was a little…freaked out.”
Guilt flooded you as Robin glared at him.
“Shit, I need to talk to him. Right now. Where’re my shoes? I need to go!” You ran around your living room, frantically looking for your converse.
How the fuck could you have just left him behind? Without telling him – without saying the words. Suddenly, you remembered.
“Fuck! He’s in Indianapolis,” you said, slumping into a nearby chair, “he won’t be back until Sunday night.”
Steve frowned, his hands inching towards a red starburst and you shot him a glare.
“I’m distressed but not dead, get your hands off the red ones,” you snapped.
Robin laughed, knowing glint in her eyes and she grabbed a set of keys from your front table. “You have a fucking car and Indianapolis is three hours away, not across the country. Get what you need and let’s go.”
.
“Get off, you’re squishing me!” Max hissed at Lucas.
“Where do you want me to go? It’s a small car!”
“Will you two shut up?” Dustin snapped.
Robin sighed from the passenger seat and you took the same left as Steve did ahead of you. “You know, I don’t know why you all thought it’d be fun to make this into a group road trip,” she sighed, “you really don’t know how to mind your business!”
You snorted at the hypocrisy of the situation and she shot you a look. Shutting up, you made sure to stay behind the maroon BMW.
“We can’t miss this,” Dustin stressed, “he’s been in love with her for the entire time I’ve known him. I can’t deal with all the pining anymore. I get to see this through!”
You glared at him through the mirror. “We are not a soap opera to entertain yourself with,” you snapped.
By the time you’d made it out to your car, the rest of the party had managed to bike to your apartment with their own nosy agendas. Once they’d found out you were going to drive down to Eddie’s gig, they climbed into your cars – not leaving room for arguing. Because God forbid any of you do something without the entire party knowing.
“You probably won’t even be let in, this is a twenty one or older bar. As in, where they serve alcohol.”
“So?”
Robin shifted around to glare at them. “As in, you’re all not twenty-one yet?”
“Robin, please, what do you take us for? Rookies?” Dustin asked, his brow quirking. “I’m basically Corroded Coffin’s manager-”
“-you’re really not,” you said, thinking of Charlie, Gareth’s cousin who handled all the gigs and scheduling.
“-and I’ve got passes to all their gigs, it’ll be easy.”
Sharing a look with Robin, she shrugged. “Whatever, don’t whine about it to me when you’ve got to stay in the car the whole time.”
Not twenty minutes later, you both rolled your eyes at Dustin’s smug look as the bouncer let them all through with bright green bands indicating they couldn’t be served alcohol.
“Shut up,” Robin hissed.
“What time is it?” You asked, grabbing Steve’s wrist. “Shit, they go on soon – I think I can still catch them backstage.”
“Go, go!” Robin urged, shoving you forward.
Shouldering your way through the crowd, you were astounded at how packed the bar was. Determined, you kept slipping through the restless horde of people. You’d gotten halfway through when a loud strum stopped you. The crowd came alive, cheering and screaming as Eddie sauntered on stage.
Your heart dropped at the sight of the bags under his eyes. “Hello Indianapolis! How are you all tonight?”
The crowd went wild and you were jostled forward, right towards the front. Eddie was a few feet away and you sighed. Of course.
The band went through with introducing themselves, like they always did before starting, and you resigned yourself to catching him after their set. You watched Eddie swing his guitar over his shoulder, adjusting the strap. You don’t know how, in the sheer amount of people in the crowd, but as his eyes swept across the front row – they zeroed in on you.
Surprised, you blinked up at him. His answering grin was so wide, it cracked your heart further. Your breath rushed right out your lungs. Frozen, you stared up at him, and wondered how you could have ever been so blind as to not notice the way your heart always leapt around him. It rattled around in your ribcage, like a police siren. Him, we want him, it shouted at you, grinning up at you when you tried to knock it back into place.
I know, I know we do, you told it.
Of course you loved him, it was Eddie. How could you ever have thought otherwise? You wanted his friendship, because that was the most important part, but you wanted more. You’d always wanted more and you weren’t going to let fear keep you from reaching for it.
Eyes not leaving yours, he grabbed the mic again. “So, I have someone important in the audience today – someone who means a lot to me. She hasn’t heard our newest cover yet but, it’s one of her favorite songs. I’ll admit, it’s never been one of mine but I changed it around a little for her and hope you all like it too.”
Raising your brows at the first few notes, you couldn’t keep your delirious laugh in when you heard him start singing.
“Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?
Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth.”
Eddie’s voice lowered as he rasped out the vowels, the drums transforming the song entirely.
You watched Eddie transform, he always put his entire being into the performance and you loved watching him relish in it. Bobbing your head to the song, you danced alongside the three girls to your left.
Catching his eyes towards the end, he grinned as he inhaled.
“In this world, we're just beginnin'
To understand the miracle of livin'
Baby, I was afraid before
But I'm not afraid anymore.”
A smile made it’s way onto your face as you shook your head and you knew he’d caught it by his laugh. Staying right in the middle, with the crowd’s energy pulsing around you, you sat through the entire set.
As Metallica rung through the speakers, you knew it was their closing song. Eddie nodded towards the side door and you started to make your way there.
The guard at the door stood at your approach but the door behind him opened in time for you to catch Charlie’s smile. “She’s good,” she told him, “whenever you see her around this summer, let her through. She’s with Munson.”
The burly guard smiled then. “Oh, you’re his girl? Don’t worry, I never forget a face.” He waved you through and you knew she could read the mild embarrassment in your eyes.
“Don’t worry, I won’t pry,” she said, elbowing you, “but I’m happy for you two. Anyone with eyes can tell you’re gone on each other.”
Right.
“I’ve got to help them pack but you’ve been to the green room in the back – he’ll come by when they’re done.”
Thanking her, you stumbled your way there – nerves finally taking over you. You should’ve thought about what to say – how to say it. God, why did you feel so awkward? You’d fought monsters from another dimension but you couldn’t tell your best friend that you loved him?
The door suddenly burst open and Eddie came in, guitar still in hand and hair stuck to his skin. “Hey you,” you said, standing from the velvet couch. “You were amazing.”
“Yeah?” Eddie said hopefully, putting the familiar guitar down and turning his full attention to you. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”
“There was a full house, I – I’m so happy for you guys. Are you booked full for tomorrow night too?” You asked despite knowing the answer. You needed a moment, just a brief moment of normalcy before you flung yourself off the metaphorical cliff.
Eddie nodded, a ghost of a smile flashing across his face. He knew. He knew that you knew that he knew. Because of course he did. But he was letting you take this at your pace, because Eddie never did anything you didn’t want to. He always let you lead.
He opened his mouth, no doubt ready to let you distract yourself, but you were done with the pretenses.
“Fuck it,” you said, surging forward. A flash of surprise was the last thing you saw before you slammed Eddie into the wall and pressed your lips to his.
Finally! Your heart sang, finally, we’re home.
Eddie took a second but after a beat he met you just as fiercely. His grip was bruising on your waist, his other hand coming up to the back of your neck. Not giving him a chance to take the lead from you, you ran your fingers through his hair and pulled his head back. He moaned and the sound shot straight to your stomach. Butterflies in full force, you leaned back, out of breath and saw the dazed look in his eyes.
“Nova,” he begged, unseeing eyes darting around your face. “Nova.”
“I know,” you said, right before you dove back in and pressed open mouth kisses to his neck. And then, after all these years, you finally sunk your teeth into the meaty part of his neck. Right at the base of the skull tattoo. Eddie jerked, as if electrocuted, and shoved you back. Stumbling, you let him cradle your jaw, the other lowering you onto the couch.
Needing more, you whimpered and Eddie grinned. His knee pushed up between your legs and the pressure was amazing. Your hips stuttered, bumping into his and you both hissed. His teeth worried the sensitive skin of your neck and you whined as he lapped at the bruise he left.
“Eddie,” you gasped, “Eddie, please.”
His forehead came down to your shoulder, his chest heaving like he’d run a marathon, and you both just breathed the other in. At your nudging, he dropped his weight onto you and you jerked at the hardness you felt by your hip.
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding at all sorry. “The amount of adrenaline going through me right now-”
“It’s okay,” you assured him, hand drifting down his side but Eddie caught it. “I can help,” you offered. Jesus, you wanted to help if the pressure between your legs was any indication. Eddie’s face softened, his eyes drifting down your face and he groaned.
“I want that too but, maybe we should talk first? Before going past the no return point?”
You blinked. “Munson, I’m past the no return point,” you said, matter of fact. And it was true. There was no going back now.
His answering smile blinded you and you heart threatened to burst at the happiness you found there. “Yeah?” He asked, tone a little uneven.
You nodded, fingers trailing down his face. Eddie lifted himself off you, sitting on the couch and pulling you into his lap. “Yeah, me too.”
“When did you realize? And why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, ripping the band aid off.
“Because I was scared,” he admitted, “I...think I’ve always loved you. From that moment in the hallway when you chased away Tommy and his gang of assholes. You took one look at me and I think I was yours. I didn’t want to ruin what we had but there were times where I’d catch us in moments and I thought yeah, this could work. I wanted it so badly but I didn’t want to lose you. Then, years later, I realized you felt it too. I just, wanted you to get there on your own. I never wanted you to feel like you had no choice or no out. You’ll always have me, in any form you want me.”
Your heart melted. “You’re killing me,” you groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder.
Eddie laughed, his chest rumbling with it. “I’m sorry but, it’s the truth.”
“I know I’ve said it before but, I love you Eddie. How could I not?” You said, cradling his jaw in your hand.
Eddie pressed his lips to yours, eyes suspiciously red, and you decided to be mature enough and not tease him.
“Hey, you didn’t answer the first question. When did you really realize?”
“To be fair, it took me a while. Everyone knew I hated Mason,” he said and you thought back to your first boyfriend who’d moved to Texas your junior year, “which made the guys tease the shit out of me but I think I fully realized it for our senior prom. I was so bummed that you were going off to college and I was stuck in Hawkins. Then, you managed to blackmail Higgins into letting me go-”
“I didn’t blackmail him, I just asked,” you laughed.
“-I knew you knew I was upset and I could tell you wanted to cheer me up. But then you did that stupid promposal-”
“Hey!”
“And you had that big bouquet of daisies. And it hit me like a fucking truck, I’m not going to lie. That’s why – I don’t blame you. It was a lot,” he said, his fingers trailing down your cheek. “We’d been friends for years at that point. It was both shocking and stupidly obvious. How could I not have realized? It took you, standing in that meadow behind my old trailer, that massive glitter poster and those flowers. It was like…lightning. One moment I was totally oblivious and then the next, I just knew.”
“Is that why you never dated anyone after that? I thought you were hung up on Joan,” you said, thinking back on the girl he dated through high school.
He smiled, looking down at you. “No, I’ve always been yours. You’re branded on my soul, Supernova. From that first moment in that old gross hallway.”
“How did you know that I felt the same? I didn’t even know.”
Your heart sung, breath completely stolen at the look he gave you. “I mean, I didn’t know-” You leaned back to shoot him a look and he snorted. “There wasn’t an exact moment! After you went to Indie State and we’d hang out there were just small moments, I promise. Like, how you’d wait up for my call when I got home after visiting you. Or, how you stayed up all night to help me study for my finals – like two years in a row. Or that time that I caught the flu and you hit every pharmacy in Indiana getting me what I needed. Or the way Wayne just downright loves you – there’s no competition. You’re his favorite.”
“Because I bring him baked goods,” you said, laughing.
Eddie smiled. “Yeah, but he’s always loved you because you care. You just – you do all these little things and I didn’t notice until I did. I don’t know.”
You mulled that over and realized he was right. The way Eddie would steer you away from sharp corners, or always made sure you walked on the opposite side of the curb. How he always knew your order or how you liked you take your coffee. You flashed back to his broken body and how you’d snapped and lost it. How he’d only thought of making sure you were okay when he woke up.
In hindsight, you realized, he was right. It wasn’t one big moment. It was a lot of little ones.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get there,” you whispered, thumb tracing his bottom lip, “I’m sorry for leaving you at the Wheeler’s house. I should’ve been braver.”
“You are brave,” he whispered back, “I knew you just needed time. Besides, I was going to give you a week before I hunted you down.”
Laughing, you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, the other played with his necklace. “Yeah?” You felt suddenly shy.
“Yeah. Even if I was wrong and you didn’t feel the same way,” he shrugged, “I wasn’t scared enough to let you go. Romantic or platonic, Nova, we’re for life. Between Vecna and surviving ninth grade gym class together, we’re practically trauma bonded at this point.”
You laughed realizing you’d already had a lifetime of experiences with him. Eyes trailing down his content expression, you kissed the corner of his mouth. But a lifetime wasn’t enough. You wanted more. And you’d have more – you had all the time in the world.
“Yeah, Munson, we’re for life,” you agreed and leaned back down to kiss him.
Because hey, even he was right sometimes.
A/N: thank you all so much for the comments on my other fic, you cannot imagine what it means to me! This is the cover I was thinking of if anyone's interested.
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