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mysticmunson · 1 year

Text

between four walls (e.m.)

a/o/b: alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

summary: when you disappear from school for a few days, eddie is a bit bewildered, until he has a sneaking suspicion.

warning: a/o/b, smut, language

an: hi friends, thank you so much for another follower milestone! i asked what you would like next and this won! i've been working on a/o/b fics off and on for a few months, i think its very fun so feel free to message me ideas about them for blurbs! all my love. xx elora.

The sticky air of Hawkins, Indiana made Eddie’s slovenly curls cling to his neck, likely getting tangled in his beaded, silver chain as his sneakers padded across the rubble. The last place he wanted to be was in Hawkins High, the fluorescent lights bouncing off the cream walls too poignantly and banners announcing peer events.

He had always had a distaste for conformity, but after presenting as an Alpha, he clandestinely craved a sense of ordinariness. His toes pressed against the tip of his sneakers, his favorite leather jacket felt tighter, and his skin felt like the fizz on a freshly opened Coca-Cola. Sensations fluctuate depending on the day with his body attempting to steady itself as his mind tries to comprehend his new demeanor.

While every day had been weird since that fateful day last month, his friends tried to maintain normality by focusing on Hellfire or acknowledging how his buff physique made him look menacing, but things had been slightly off with you.

Every day you sat beside Eddie, even if he assured he wouldn’t be upset if you decided to relocate to avoid the relentless teasing he faced, but you stayed. After years of friendship, you chose to ignore any conflicted gazes, opting to enjoy your company. With satin ribbons in your hair, flowy, floral dresses that rest just above your knees, and your soft skin that always smelled like vanilla from your tube of hand lotion, he felt protective over you.

So when you moved from his left to the very end of the table, each inch felt like miles, cursing himself for feeling so intensely. Always admiring your beauty from a respectful distance, he adamantly maintained the friendship boundary, learning the line and fighting to take a step over.

As he sat in his math class, he awaited your arrival to your assigned seat at the second row of wooden desks, but the bell rang and it remained empty. This was the third day in a row, the first time you had even missed a full day, always finding some hidden strength to persevere through most of the school day. Hell, you often grilled Eddie on his lack of punctuality when it came to his education.

The hairs on his arms stood up, his foot tapping relentlessly against the freshly waxed tile below, trying to rationalize your behavior and disappearance. Plucking the loose threads on his ripped jeans, he couldn’t bother to even think of equations.

Your lack of communication had him on high alert, resisting the urge to confront you in fear of scaring you. He didn’t feel a need to worry about it until he presented, his voice dropped a tad lower, his facial hair growing faster which left him with consistent stubble, and his eyes felt sharper despite their baby-like softness.

As class ended with Eddie not retaining a word of information, he looked at the double doors sending sunlight through, thinking how easy it would be to drive to your house and find out what was wrong. Why you hadn’t been answering his calls, why you weren’t at school, and why you even missed Hellfire. Granted, you didn’t know much about Dungeons and Dragons and usually just sat and watched, it felt peculiar to see your chair empty.

Meanwhile in a quiet house at the curve of a cul de sac, you laid in bed wearing a shirt a size too big and underwear, leaving your mouth open to breathe. The fever encompassing your body added to your discomfort, tears selvage as your tired eyes stare at the wall, hoping that you would be back to normal soon.

Initially convinced it was a stomach ache, an awful flu that had you withering away in your bed, flustered as could be with clammy hands. But your gut wasn’t repulsed, it was the opposite, despite your body feeling like it was on fire as you laid in your bed, alone.

It had been two miserable days since you presented as an omega, leaving you stranded with nothing to assist yourself. The clock only seemed to be moving slower as you could barely sleep without finding yourself in the depths of another dream, a dream of him.

“I’m glad we checked on you, you look like hell.” Robin joked, walking through your bedroom door with Nancy right behind. Even in your delirious state, you knew they typically didn’t hang out together, furrowing your brows.

“Steve’s in the car waiting,” Nancy responded to your voiceless query, reaching her hand up to your forehead with a frown. “Shit, you’re burning up, have you gone to a doctor?”

You shook your head, burrowing half of your face into your pillow with a deflated sigh, “I feel like shit and my stomach hurts, but not in a bad way, but so much that it is painful?” You stuttered in confusion, eyes hazy and unfocused.

Robin fiddled with the various knick knacks in your room, lifting a pair of earrings to her in the mirror. Nancy stood back, looking at you with a thoughtful expression, rubbing her chin almost comically.

“I also just want to call Eddie, but I keep feeling like I’m going to cry if I do. I talk to him everyday! It’s not my period either, I don’t know what's happening!” You exasperated, clenching your sheets closer to your chest as Nancy’s features clenched, sitting on the corner of your bed.

Eddie had been your best friend for years and your longing crush for most of them. Conversations on the phone were routine for you, usually playfully arguing about something meaningless or watching a tv show while giving commentary.

“Sounds like you're presenting, dude.” Robin laughed, turning around, only to be met with your fear filled face and Nancy’s “Did you seriously just say that?” expression that Robin had experienced frequently.

With your parents being an alpha and omega duo, the chances they gave birth to one was highly likely, it was something you had expected. The days prior had left you anxious and exhausted, believing it just to be school related and nothing to note.

“What?” You mumbled, sitting up, breath picking up as tears welled up, “Eddie’s an alpha, right? Oh my God!”

“Hey, hey! Calm down, you’re fine.” Nancy assured, pushing your shoulder gently back, looking at Robin for some form of support.

“I just want Eddie, but I-” You whimpered, hands coming up to your face before a random flannel was thrown at you from Robin.

His flannel.

His fucking red and black flannel he had accidentally left last weekend, you could’ve cried when you smelt it, the pain intensifying, but also blooming peace.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea right now.” Nancy stroked your hair, even her heart breaking a bit at your muffled sadness. “Just try to relax, drink some water, and distract yourself. Okay?” You nodded, thanking them through the fabric in front of your face.

As the girls trudged down the stairs, Robin looked at Nancy with a bewildered face, the front door closing behind them.

“We should tell Eddie! Apparently it’s fucking brutal the first time around!” She kept her tone hushed, Nancy sighing as she looked at the grass beneath our feet.

“She’s had a crush on him for years, Rob. What if something happens and it ruins their friendship? We have to let nature run its course. If she calls him, so be it, but we can’t be the ones to make that call.” Nancy sighed, opening Steve’s back seat door and piling in, Robin filing in the front.

The days for you were fairly torturous, only comforted by the smokey scent of the old flannel and the fantasies you entertained. Your mind began to run as you envisioned Eddie in all his alpha glory, which you hadn’t had the honor of seeing since he immediately goes into hiding when his rut hits.

His broad shoulders, firm grip that is free of rings since his hands swell, his plush lips cascading down your frame. The thought alone made you whimper, opening your eyes to glance at your pink phone, your shaking hands not even able to spin the dial. Your wooden bedside table felt miles away as you stared at it, tears pooling in your eyes at your helplessness.

Part of you hoped he noticed your exodus while the other hoped things would go completely back to normal when you returned. The concept was naive, knowing there was no way you would be able to go back to a regular friendship with him, a thought that plagued you as soon as he returned to school after his first rut.

The front doors of the school couldn’t open quick enough, having not spent a week apart throughout your whole friendship. Even when your family would go out of town, you would call and talk on the phone as if he were right in front of you.

His shoes squeaked against the freshly waxed tile of Ms. Green’s history class, Eddie strolling to his assigned seat towards the front. His chest was broader, thighs a bit thicker, and his face had a certain maturity that you didn’t recall. He turned over his shoulder, ignoring the stares from everyone else and locking eye contact with you, giving you a grin that you exchanged.

When you walked out of class, he yanked you into a hug playfully, laughing in a huskier tone. For a moment you felt dizzy, shaking your head and pushing the unwarranted anxiety to the side. He was your best friend who you had seen shitfaced, crying at romcoms, and shared his bed when you didn’t want to go home.

Things felt different though, never having been friends with an Alpha made everything novice. Each interaction with him made you shiver, feeling light headed with a subtle pain in your abdomen. So you forced space between you, keeping conversation to a minimum and avoiding him if possible. You assumed the pain would subside after a few days, but every time you tried to inch closer, it came crawling back.

In the solitude of your bedroom, your mind drifted to Eddie, starting with the curiosity of where he was or who he was with. Then the thought of him with someone to help him through his rut crept in, bringing a wave of sadness with it. Your feelings for Eddie were prominent for a long time, but you feared losing your best friend, choosing to have him as a pal than not at all.

You thought of him buffing up even more than when he was at school, remembering when you felt his crotch pressed against you when he scooted past, the prominent bulge gathering your attention. Envisioning the chance to touch him made your mouth water, trembling in your pajamas at the thought of his arms holding you and pressing his chest against yours. The way his dick wouldn’t fit your hand, having to use both to fully wrap around it and pleasing him.

The idea anyone else did it made you feel sick, grabbing his sweatshirt he left over once and inhaling the scent. The seemingly innocent action made you feel like a pervert as his perfume lingered faintly on the cotton.

Those thoughts felt like pure cotton candy to the ones you had now, of how he could walk in and do whatever he wanted and you’d love it. No matter what action he was committing, you would cry and beg for more. Even the idea of him being in the same room as you had you whimpering, twisting and turning with huffs of built frustration.

Nancy and Robin stopped by a few times to check in on you, knowing you were too overwhelmed to make yourself food or get water. The school hours they had would usually sync with your nap time as you always woke at random moments in the night. Eddie had mentioned you to Robin that morning, wondering if she had seen you, which she attempted to deflect.

“Why don’t you and Wheeler sit with my boys today?”

Nancy almost killed Robin for saying yes, not because of Eddie’s reputation, but because she knew Robin was close to breaking. Always going soft after seeing you, saying how they need to just get you help and speed up this process.

So with sandwiches in hand, they sat quietly as the members of Corroded Coffin conversed about the latest Hellfire meeting. The younger boys were on a freshman field trip, conveniently leaving room for the girls to sit. Eddie snacked on the cold cafeteria food with lingering eyes on them, their skin crawling at the information they knew.

Thankfully, the talkative nature of Gareth and Jeff derailed everyone’s attention, only noticing the 5 minutes left when Nancy took a glance at her watch as they went to throw away their trash. With freedom at their fingertips, it only seemed pleasantly ironic for it all to come tumbling down when Jason Carver appeared.

The potent bags under his eyes made him resemble a tortured Greek God, bronzed skin under the sun kissed hairs on his head. Eddie opened his mouth to begin his tangent, feeling his legs twitching to hop upon the tabletops, even though his recent development made him a bit calmer.

“Where is she?” Jason asked, not even glancing at the man beside him, locking on the girl's enlarged eyes.

“Who?” Robin questioned, providing an awkward smile that made Jason scoff, wishing his skills developed enough to find you himself.

Jason was one of the other alpha’s at school, his rut helping him with sports and wearing it proudly on his sleeve. His progression made sense, fulfilling the family history of powerful alphas, but he had yet to find an omega to care for. Or even just to hold him over as most went into seclusion during their heats.

He wouldn’t have even known if a fellow member of the basketball team overheard the girls talking in hushed tones in the hallway, presuming no one could hear them over the sounds of chatter and clashing lockers.

As if intended, the bell rang loudly, everyone standing to return to class. Jason kept his intense gaze until his friends yanked him away, pestering him for information about that night's practice. Eddie’s gaze didn’t waver as he looked at the both of them, smelling a tinge of anxiety on them, a convenient sense he inhabited.

“You guys have 10 seconds to say why Jason Carver just said her name.” He responded with fraudulent tranquility, his black lunch pail secured tightly in his palm, holding his ground despite the varying rushing bodies beside them.

After a moment of silence, Nancy found herself surprised at her lack of a quick rebuttal, something about the look Eddie was giving her making her freeze. It wasn’t one of infatuation, more akin to fear as his tensity remained.

“She presented!” Robin sighed, shoulders relaxing as if pounds had been removed from her chest. Her friend smacked her arm, watching as the man across from them went stagnant. Despite the fleeting deliberations, all the girls across from him saw was his clenched jaw and his eyes diverting to the spot you typically sat.

“As what? And why the fuck does Jason Carver know before me?” He gritted out, clenched fists glued at the side of his thighs.

The bell signaling class started went off, jolting Nancy and Robin from their subtle haze, trying to think of anything to divert his attention. However, Robin couldn’t stop thinking about how you were crying for him, that you would feel infinitely better if she just mentioned the slight detail.

“I don’t know how he found out Eddie-” Nancy snapped, becoming irritated with the theatrics, wishing she was just in algebra class for the first time ever.

“As an omega!” Robin blurted, Eddie’s eyes widening as his fists loosened, “She presented and has been a mess! She’s too emotional to do anything, just wallowing away and whining for you.” The last part trailed off, but Eddie understood it clearly, his instincts that just were beginning to sprout commencing to full bloom.

With tunnel vision, he found his way out of the school, not caring if any teacher saw him. His mind was on you. You, who had been crying in pain for him for days and no one cared to mention it.

The way to your home went by in a blur, glad he knew the route well enough to not maintain complete fixation on the journey. His respiring didn’t cease as he sped down the old roads, trying his best to avoid the potholes or random piles of trash.

He barely put the car into park before he was racing up your driveway, putting his hand behind the potted plant at the right side of the maroon door. With the key in hand, he was soon in, putting it in the nearby bowl at the entryway table. The house was quiet, everything in a perfect state, making him remember your parents were out of town for the week.

The aroma reached his nose like a tidal wave, unfamiliar yet agrestal as he saw the light glowing from under the door at the end of the hall. His socks hit the carpet as he yanked his shoes off, promenading down the beige carpet with small floral detailing.

The door opened when his hand gripped the bronze handle, finding you asleep in an oversized shirt, curled in on yourself with his lapsed flannel. A warm spread across his chest and his groin, stifling the animalistic noise fighting through. Approaching you, he pushed the hair from your face, feeling the intensity of your fever on his shaking palms.

His scent made you stir, squeaking as your body searched for the touch with the twist of your neck. He trailed his finger down the bridge of your nose, noting the small pores he had never been able to see before, trailing to your cupid's bow.

Your eyes fluttered open as he knelt beside you, cupping your cheek gently as if you were fine china. Your pupils were dilated, practically encompassing your whole iris, and he could feel your internal heat increasing with his proximity.

“Eddie.” You mumbled, confused if this was a cruel dream that your hormonal mind was conjuring, but he smiled, his thumb brushing past your bottom lashes. Lunging forward without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him on the bed, legs squirming with the growing discomfort between them.

As his body enveloped yours, he clenched his eyes tight, feeling the profound burst of testosterone. His stupor was interrupted when he felt a surge of wetness on his jeans, pulling away to see the slick that seeped through your thin cotton panties and to your mattress.

Wanting to avoid any embarrassment on your part, he smashed his lips to yours, keeping a steady hand on your jaw to maintain the pacing. There was no time to think about what you were doing or what your friendship would be after this, just the need to be close.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you, my omega.” He puffed as you whimpered, sitting up on his knees to pull off his shirt, initially going to throw it on the floor until you snatched it to bring to your nose. He plucked it out of your grasp with a teasing smile, putting it above your head beside your white pillows.

His hands found the hem of your shirt, inching it slowly up your body, revealing the skin he had been dreaming of. Discarding the old cloth, he stared in hunger at your chest as his hands grasped the mounds of flesh upon them. Wincing at your cry from the abrupt touch, simultaneously becoming harder beneath his constricting jeans.

Managing a way to strip them, he was left in boxers that did little to conceal his arousal, yet all his attention was on the sea between your legs. The fabric was so wet, the baby pink went to a darkened tone, making him rip them off.

“Oh, this cunt is just drooling for me, isn’t it?” He chuckled, running a finger through your folds before slotting it between his lips. Gasping, you reached to grab him, which he obliged. His lips met yours like slotted puzzle pieces, shimmying off his last article of clothing.

“Alpha, please.” You mewled, eyes wide as your lips hung open as he grabbed his length. The growl that escaped was impetuous, your nipples skimming across his milky chest, his hand stopping your jaw from when you tried to look downward.

“You’re okay, omega- Shh, it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” He says softly, thumb stroking across your scorching skin, applying slight pressure.

He had always been well endowed, but after his presentation, things became more intense, especially when he was aroused. Eddie thought the idea that alpha’s couldn’t be with beta’s because it was dangerous was just dramatics, but when he came to full hardness with his knot in place, it made sense.

The last thing he wanted was for you to see him below right now, knowing your brain was already scattered and that he didn’t want to scare you. As an omega, your body was made for this, it was begging for it. It just took a little getting used to.

His tip had barely probed your walls before you winced, clutching onto his shoulders like a lifeline. Though he knew you were in slight discomfort, something brought him amenity knowing he was going to help you feel much better.

Protruding further in, he slowly rocked his hips back and forth, pressing wet kisses to your skin and savoring the essence coming from it. He thought he could become high on you alone as you basked in his own scent, feeling as if it coated you from head to toe.

“Feelin’ okay?” Eddie mustered, jolting his head back slightly when you started nodding profusely, making him chuckle and go deeper.

“You f-feel so good, so so good. Y-your cock,” You cried out, the tears tumbling down with mixed moans, “You’re so pretty and so n-nice to me, s-so nice even when you don’t-t have to be, which is so nice of y-you.”

“Baby,” Eddie’s chest constricts and he smiles down to continue, only realizing he had inched his way fully inside when his balls bounced against the swell of your ass. A loud moan that vibrates within his chest comes out, making you grip to him more securely.

“S-so big and full, so full, I don’t want you to leave, please.” You whimpered, hand reaching to feel his hair, “You m-mean so much to me a-and I l-love you. Thank you, thank you.”

“Sweetheart, shh, it’s okay.” He coos with a huge grin, almost laughing with how precious you are to him right now, “I love you too, I’m not going anywhere.”

The first orgasm you experience hits you like a sucker punch, his words of affirmation being the final straw, shaking like a leaf against his firm chest. Your mind goes blank as you let out a string of noises, feeling the way he feels inside you in such intense detail. Your eyes reopened as you whined at the pain still persisting, which Eddie was mere moments away from solving.

He never thought he’d be able to see you like this, not even as an omega, just in general. Your iris’ so wide, he could see his reflection down to the small lines next to his lips. It felt so natural to be inside you, to be protecting you and fulfilling your needs. The thought that Jason Carver almost made it here made his blood boil, thrusting sharply out of instinct, before focusing on you.

“Want you cum, Eddie, want your cum, alpha. Please, please, please! I’ll be good and do whatever you say, you can do whatever you want to me, just, please!” You cried out, sending Eddie to his final straw, his knot snapping loose with a potent moan.

Sublime existed within you, he thought, his mind going completely blank as he pumped you full of his release. Your sobs had turned into subdued mewls as your body felt relaxed for the first time in days, clutching to Eddie with your face in his neck.

Groaning like an old man, he managed to roll onto his back with you still attached and startled by the movement. “It’s okay, just get comfortable, sweetheart.” He murmured, yanking your blue quilted blanket over the both of you despite the sweat, already expecting your come down to be reasonably harsh.

To say Eddie wasn’t the best student was valid, but he did pay attention in health class, learning the dynamics of alphas, omegas, and betas. There was something so intriguing about it to him, thinking it was intricate enough to be a part of Dungeons and Dragons, when a brave warrior saves a helpless civilian.

Even back in the freezing classroom, he felt his heart clench at the explanation of omegas while some tried to joke about it and laugh. Describing the genuine distraught they endure if they’re without a caretaker, a toy being a last resort because of how much emotional support they would need afterwards.

Alpha’s could get away with going solo, a bit pent up and lonely, but nothing like omega’s who became practically helpless. For an auxiliary learning experience, they played a video of a female omega in heat for the room for pre-presenting 18 year old boys. There wasn’t any sex, but it was how emotional she became after just a few minutes, only finding peace when a man came in and picked her up, her alpha. They played one of an alpha, but the pretense didn’t last nearly as long as he could smell out his omega in the room from the start.

The worry that you had been in here for two days plagued him as you took deep breaths on his chest, his knot gradually diminishing. He squeezed you tighter unintentionally, angry that he didn’t know sooner, that he didn’t realize it or that no one told him.

“Look at me.” He stated, a bit too sharp than intended, your obedience falling into place as your chin rested against his chest. Your cheeks were still wet, sniffling as the aftermath endured, looking with distressed eyes.

“Don’t wait to call me, okay? It doesn’t matter if you’re embarrassed. You could’ve hurt yourself.” He exaggerated, regretting his tone as soon as your lip began to wobble, “Hey, sweetheart, hey. It’s okay, I’m not mad, I just don’t want you to be in pain, okay?”

You nodded as he rearranged you both, his length slipping out, much to your dismay. But the need to nest festered within seconds as he went to go get you both drinks and snacks, grabbing his shirt and flannel. Even his jeans joined the pile as it surrounded you, nuzzling into the cotton of his top, toes flexing in delight.

He entered with some water, granola bars and bananas, somehow remembering they were a positive supplement for after a heat even though he forgets his own house number sometimes. Chuckling at the sight, he sat against the headboard as you shuffled into his side, curling up. Holding the cup to your lips, he swiped the spare stream that dripped down your tongue before drinking some himself.

Handing you a piece of the fruit, he opened his snack, but kept his attention on you as you looked downward. His fingers found the loose strands of hair by your ear, stroking them rhythmically as you finished and handed him the peel. You both sat contently as the wrapper and peel were thrown into the bin, but he could feel the slump of your frame, assuming you hadn’t got much rest the past few days.

“Go to sleep, omega, I’ll be here. You’re safe.” He assured, scooting farther down so you were both lying on your backs, wrapping his arms around you.

The sleep was like no other before, instantly submerged into tranquility of varying levels, Eddie being exhausted and waiting till you were out to fall. While you slept, your body still buzzed with nerves, still coming to terms with the new elements surfacing.

Stirring awake in the dark room, you rubbed your eyes and smelled the pheromones exuding from Eddie’s sleeping body that you could now process. The discomfort between your legs surged with wetness, worried you would wake him and he would be displeased at how early it was. The red clock blinked at 5:43am, the sun wasn’t even beginning to show.

Mistakenly peering down at his boxers, your mouth watered at his bulge, feeling an encompassing need to see it. You wanted to press kisses all over him, around the coarse hairs below his belly and sucking on his tip to taste his arousal.

Eddie woke up to quiet fussing, feeling you twist against his chest and look up at him, shocked to see his eyes opened. He could see the guilt right on your face, to which he silently shook his head with a smile, stroking your head.

“Alpha, ‘m sorry, I need your c-cock, please.” You begged, wiggling down to his waistband, pulling out his half hardened length, “S-so big.”

He knew he only had a few minutes before you wouldn’t be able to have him in your mouth anymore, becoming too thick for your throat, so he let you indulge in this. You wanted this, he could see the drool dripping down his shaft as you sucked him, but he also knew this wasn’t going to do anything for you emotionally.

“My pretty, sweet, omega.” His voice coaxed in a morning gruff, “Can have this for just a minute, okay? Did so good yesterday, so proud of you.”

He saw your eyes haze over, eyelids drooping as you hummed around him, his hips resisting the instinct to snap forward. Your repeated suckle made him thicker, unbeknownst to you as the action only soothed you, ignoring the growing pain between your legs.

His hand intertwined with yours as he looked out the slit of the curtains of the window, the orange rays of the sun just cresting the Earth. Something about waking up before sunrise felt forbidden, like the world wasn’t awake yet, that this was stolen time. Time where only you and him existed.

The ache of his knot began to form as he reached down to pull you up, only to hear a yelp. He flinched, looking down to see your wide eyes with his dick between your lips. He forced his growl down to not give you mixed messages, only raising his brows and curling his finger up to him.

When you failed to do so, he lifted you despite your begs, laying you down and hovering over. He hushed you, feeling himself throb against your pretty thighs, ones he definitely wanted to explore more when you weren’t as sensitive. If he were to love on them now, he thinks it’d feel more cruel to you than anything.

You wiggled beneath him, faint pleads escaping your lips as his scent covered you, not being able to comprehend all the feelings that swarmed you. Eddie managed to throw off his boxers, caging you in beneath him as his necklace trickled on your sternum. One of his arms went downward, grabbing the base of himself and giving a few tugs.

“I know what you need, omega.” He gritted, his tip sliding between your silk-like folds with ease, making him shudder. Somehow this managed to calm you down slightly, knowing he knew what to do, even just based on pure instincts.

Slotting inside you, he shut his eyes and moaned, your wetness helping to aid the size of himself. Your moans may have been considered singing if anyone heard the way they flowed together and he wondered if it just sounded that way as your alpha.

“Alpha, please, need your knot. Need so many.” You begged, breaths shallow as your body began to shake, already succumbing to your first orgasm. He couldn’t help, but chuckle at you, nuzzled into the crevice of your neck as he kissed the skin softly.

“My sensitive girl.” He mused, pressing himself further to rub at your clit, making you jolt. His speed increased as he felt himself growing impatient. He could last longer than this, he knew that, but he wasn’t going to try and prolong it, especially when it helped make you feel safe.

“I’ve got a rule, omega,” Eddie began, your eyes wide like saucers as you looked up, “You have to come twice every time I knot, okay?”

Your petulant whine sounded through the room before he hushed you with his own lips, his hand going between your legs to rub at the bud of nerves. Your legs shook profusely against his hips, not expecting the added pleasure that left you speechless.

“Come with me, baby. Gonna fill you up, give you my knot.” He growled, gripping onto the headboard to thrust faster than before, “Fuck, need to fill you up. My omega.” He watched as your tits bounced in rhythm, your orgasm sneaking up on you.

His knot shot into you with velocity, covering your walls completely as you mewled, coming for a second time as your back arched. Eddie thought he almost dented the metal headboard, his hands a mix of red and white as he let go, twitching from the intensity his body was encountering.

Peering down, he saw your eyes shut, mouth opened as you caught your breath with just the tip of your tongue poking out down the middle. He smiled, pushing the hair from your face and kissing you. His knot was still throbbing as it deposited completely within you, hoping he’d be able to keep doing this. Now more prepared for when he rolled onto his back, you just adjusted to be comfortable, hoping he wouldn’t get soft too fast and you could continue this close.

The first presentation was usually a false heat, it has all the same symptoms, but there is little chance of pregnancy. It was one of the reasons he wasn’t too paranoid about giving you his knot, since that is what sedates omegas, but he didn’t want to be too risky. His heart bursted as you settled in his arms, wondering what would happen after your heat was over, trying to assure himself you wanted him. You whined for him and he wasn’t going to let that go.

The next few days consisted of waking up, having sex, Eddie cooking for you, and naps. It was like a slice of heaven in four walls, embracing the affection you were both giving each other.

He had gone back home once to grab clothes, cigarettes, and some notebooks to work on his campaign and music. He had given Wayne a call the first day, saying he was out for the night, but would be back home soon. He hung up before he could hear the response, but knew he’d have to face his uncle eventually. They were close, practically father and son, but they weren’t open in that nature.

He pulled up to the trailer, seeing the familiar truck in the dirt in front, taking a deep breath before stepping on the damp ground. Opening the door gently, he spotted his uncle asleep on the recliner as the news played softly on the TV. Going straight for his bedroom, he shoved as much as he could in his duffle bag.

Truthfully, he was missing you more than he wanted to admit. It was only minutes, yet, he felt a pain in his chest that you were alone. He did wait for you to fall asleep as you tried to act okay with him departing for an hour, untangling your arms and legs from one another.

How he managed to quickly pack his bag with minimal noise was a mystery, but he was grateful, hoping to utilize whatever freetime he had with writing or planning. He even brought some extra shirts for your nest as those were your favorite and his jeans kept rubbing weirdly against your cheeks. Racing to the front door, he had almost escaped as his grasp reached the handle.

“Where were you at and why aren’t you in school, boy?” Wayne grumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes as he laid back. Something about his demeanor could make him seem laid back, but he meant business when it came to Eddie’s future and he didn’t want to add another senior year.

“It’s excused.” Eddie responded cooly, mentioning quickly that he stayed at your home, leaning against the door and rocking on his heels. His nonchalant attitude made the older Munson open his eyes, looking with a squint as he adjusted to the light and to whatever game he thought his nephew was playing at.

Awaiting the explanation, Eddie imagined the ground swallowing him whole, teleporting him back to your cute bedroom with frills and stuffed animals. But no, he was standing in front of his uncle, who was in no mood for shenanigans after an exhausting shift.

“She presented. The school excuses both, uh, parties.” Eddie mumbled, the rubber of his shoes touching as he looked down at them, not seeing the way the man in front of him straightened up.

Humming in response, Wayne sat in thought as the boy refused to make eye contact, unsure as to what his reaction would be. How does one react to something like this?

“Takin’ care of her? She’s a sweet girl, always liked her.” Wayne mused, making their eyes finally meet. While the question could’ve been interpreted in a more vulgar way, he knew what he meant. Meant that he was actually taking care of you as an alpha should, not just to get laid.

“She is and yeah. Feeling better now, didn’t get help till two days after. She asked for me.” He trails his words with pink cheeks, kicking himself for saying too much, but Wayne gives a small chuckle. Not at what he said, but at how much Eddie’s demeanor reminded him of when he was young.

“Alright, alright. Standin’ here looking like a prisoner, go.” He laughed, not really needing any other information as Eddie left within a blink.

The drive back to your house was tortuous, practically smelling you on his clothes in a way that became addicting. With little shame, he inhaled in his shirt deeply while at a red light, the car behind him eventually honking to send him forward.

It was crazy to him that yesterday morning felt so long ago now, that the conversation with Nancy and Robin wasn’t even 24 hours ago. He knows news is never expected fully, but this took him by surprise and made him feel less guilty about getting off to the thought of you during his rut.

He wondered if that’s why you popped in his head no matter how many times he tried to distract himself, your pretty face dewy as he fucked into you at a, seemingly, unforgiving pace. His hands all over your body and you reacted instinctively to them before he filled you to the brim with his knot.

The thoughts ran through his brain until he pulled in your driveway, grabbing his bag and the spare set of keys that used to reside behind the large flower pot. The muffled sounds of music could be heard from your boombox as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes. Jumping over steps until slipping on the edge, he caught himself by the rail, puffing with annoyance.

A whine rang through his ear like church bells, adding to the ache between his legs that he hadn’t noticed before. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you immediately lit up at his presence, holding open your arms. Plopping down the bag, he dramatically raced towards you while crouching and swooped you into his arms with a laugh.

Litters of kisses were left on both sets of skin, feeling an overcast of warmth as you returned to each other. He only pulled away to drag his bag closer, rummaging through it before lifting up an old Hawkins crewneck sweater, slipping it on you over your large shirt. You practically melted at the way his scent took you, shrinking your head, arms and legs until you were in a tight ball within it.

“Glad you like it, baby.” He chuckled, kissing the patch of your hair that peeked through as he unloaded some of his clothes. It was almost comical how little articles he brought, knowing that most of their days would not involve clothing at all or would only be on long enough to be taken off.

Putting it in a neat pile by your dresser, he dug in his bag to see the condoms made specifically for alpha’s, dreading the fact he would need to wear them soon. He decided to keep it hidden, not wanting to upset you when you weren’t using them yet. He could hear the soft snoring from the tucked away ball on its side, biting back a large grin.

Shimmying off his clothing besides his royal blue briefs, he molded himself around your frame and lifted the blankets over top. He felt your arms wiggling before a practically inaudible whimper as it dawned on him that you couldn’t feel the arm holes in your slumber.

“Goofball.” He mutters to himself, unable to help the smile and pink cheeks as he uncurls you to bring to his chest. Your lips puckered briefly against his peck, the subconscious kiss making him want to squeeze you in joy. He liked existing inside these four walls with you.

taglist plus friends :) : @steeldaisies @meaganjm @masterofmunson @downbythebay4 @femalefilmaker @wiltedwonderland @yourthebrokengirl @jessyballet @iheartyouyou @gloryekaterina @missscarlettangel @variety-fangirl @wigglywoos59 @thegirlblogstuff @lovelyladymayyyy @strawwberrry @ktjmac @dovesnrosesnreblogs @fknemily @spn-obession @imagine-all-the-imagines @fangirl-hoe @deementedforeverr @hellfire-in-hawkins @indouloureux @andvys @lilacletter @prettyboyeddiemunson

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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months

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How large you think König's bodycount is? Like, with how many women has he sleep?

Failry normal, I think! A bit lower for a guy his age if we're counting him as being well in his thirties, but I feel like he slept around with 20 women at least. They are not long-term partners, mostly just hookups with some other soldiers from different units after a good pub crawl with the team or some passerby at an early age. It's not like he doesn't want to sleep with more women and gain experience in the romantic scenes - he is just too much of a weird fucking loser to get a girl that would like him for something more than his monstrous dick. He is awkward and weird, he will cherish you like a goddess and cover you in money from his mercenary paychecks, and you would still want to run away because he already starts planning your marriage after the first date. He has experience with sex - mostly because he was forced to be good at it, or else no lady would ever want to stay in range of ten meters with him - so he will eat you out before the act and after, not cringing as he licks and sucks at his own cum dripping from your pussy. He doesn't have a lot of romantic experience - sometimes he fails to remember that you're with him on your own free will and he doesn't have to threaten you with lives of your family. he still does this to keep you on your toes however. He had a few flings in his mid career, when he just got shiny new rank - a captian or something - and went on a bit of a sex rampage, finally believing in being desired by pretty women. He got humbled pretty quick when he found out that, despite having more money, muscles and height than he ever had before, he is still not really a desirable person - so he went into a depressive rampage right after. Such a good thing that he already gave up on dating and hooking up when you came in, looking so sweet and helpless, he just had to scoop you with him and unleash his pent-up desires...

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader

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asteroshearts · 4 months

Text

Date Night

Itadori tags along for one of your date nights and wonders how you have a completely different Nanami Kento than the rest of the world.

Nanami x Reader

Tags: she/her pronouns, public nudity?, third wheel itadori

"Good evening, we apologize for the wait. Thank you for calling Gyomei's Ginza branch. How may I help you today?"

"Hello." You could never get sick of his voice. "I have a reservation for Nanami at 19:00. I know it's last minute, but can we add another person?"

"That can be done: we can add another chair to the table you selected," the hostess responded. Grinning wildly, you turned in the passenger seat and met your fist with Itadori's. "Do you have any special requests for this party member?"

"Don't include the drink course for him," your husband stated. Broken beams of white light from the street lamps came and went across his glasses as he drove by. "He's a child."

"Of course, will this extra person need a high chair?"

A gasp rang in the car.

"That won't be necessary." Quickly shutting off the call, Nanami huffed as you burst out into giggles at Itadori's sputtering.

"Aw, he's our son, Kennie."

"Nanamin!" his pink-haired student cried from the back seat. "Why did you say that?! Now they're going to think I'm seven or something!"

"You are a child." The man didn't even bother to glance at the rearview mirror.

"Maybe we should've gone with the long con," you teased. "Do you think they would've given us a discount if we said that Yuji-kun was twelve? That could save us a bit of money at a place like this!"

"Do you think I'm broke?" Nanami scoffed before pressing down on the accelerator, taking off in Tokyo.

Itadori hadn't initially planned to crash your date night.

Although they had finished the assignment efficiently, Nanami noticed something was up with the teen despite how quickly they exorcised the curse. From the boy's slouched posture and tucked shoulders, Nanami easily got the boy to confess what was on his mind.

"Oh…it's my grandpa's birthday today…" Eyes facing the ground, his voice suddenly grew quieter. "It's the first time I've ever had it without him."

It would've been so simple to say his monotone condolences, take a step away, and move on with his day. However, one call to you later, you had no problem with inviting Itadori along your night with your husband. In fact, you were even more certain you had married the right man when he asked permission to bring his student and help take Itadori's mind off his late grandfather's birthday.

But, Itadori didn't want to third-wheel at his pseudo-teacher's date, wouldn't that be kinda weird?

Nanamin seemed just, so – well – cold. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed the man as a mentor, but to tag along for a date? He wasn't sure how the blond managed to score a pretty girl like you as his wife, but he didn't want to spend a night with you while Nanami silently ate at his side.

However, when he brought it up to the group chat that Nanami might be paying for his meal at this place called "Gyomei", Nobara yelled at him loud enough that he could hear it through text. A Michelin-starred and free meal was something a teen boy like him couldn't pass up.

"Um!" Itadori called out to you after Nanami had parked in the underground garage of the high-rise you were going to. "Thank you again for inviting me!" Pink coloring his cheeks, you had mentioned earlier when Nanami picked you up that if they didn't allow reservation modifications, you would just let the deposit go and find another spot to have date night at. Not only were they in the most expensive area of Tokyo, but he knew from Gojo's blabbing that Nanami's coveted date nights were never a spontaneous event. They were planned weeks, even months in advance, to get you to the best venues, restaurants, and events. To think that you had just easily let him drag along…touched him more than you realized.

You chuckled at his attempt to bow in the backseat, folding your legs so you could turn in your seat. "It's no problem at all! It's always so fun to talk with you, Yuji-kun! Good thing they let us add another chair though, I've been wanting to try this place forever."

Although, he wondered why you weren't making an effort to get out of the car. Nanamin had parked a while ago, and you still haven't opened your door. Were you waiting for him to pay for your parking spot?

"Yeah! Gojo-sensei tells me these places usually don't allow modifications for reservations."

"Oh. That." Your shoulders fell before a large smile broke out on your face, laughing at your own joke. "Let me tell you a little secret, Yuji-kun." Leaning in closer and lowering your voice, you confessed, "We lie to Gojo."

Huh?

"He wants to crash our date nights all the time, but Ken would rather eat rocks than invite him," you said with a laugh. "So we lie and tell him it can't be done."

Door opening on your side, you perked up as light flooded your car and you turned you head up to gaze at your husband holding the door.

"What are you laughing about?" your grumpy husband asked. Although his voice was dull and drab, Itadori wondered how you managed to brighten up so much just at the mere sight of the blond man. He was even more confused at how you only stepped out of the car after Nanami had opened it, so much more different than the blond he knew who was strict and hated doing anything beyond the required effort.

To the Nanami who told everyone to drag their own baggage, this seemed like night and day, yet here you were, not even lifting a finger.

Where was the real Nanamin?

"Not at you," you reassured, slipping out as Nanami stepped back slightly. "At Gojo."

Face souring as if he had eaten a lemon, he quickly told you that he didn't even want to think of the white-haired man tonight, not when it was your night. "If you wanted to laugh at clowns, I should've taken you to the circus instead."

Holding on to his arm, you looked up at your husband. "Well then, good thing we have Yuji-kun with us, right? At least someone will laugh at my jokes today."

Exhaling tiredly, Nanami pushed up his glasses to hide the small quirk of his lips.

"Itadori-kun, what are you waiting for? Get out of the car."

Eyes widening, he jolted in his spot, clumsily opening the door and trying not the hit the car next to you. "R-Right!"

"Aww, maybe you should be the gentleman and open the door for him."

Rolling his eyes beneath his round glasses, he placed his hand over your hold on his bicep. "Do you think I open the door for everyone?"

In the background, Itadori watched as you were eye-to-eye with your husband.

Oh, he realized. It's still Nanamin. It was just that you got special treatment.

"You were a sorcerer too?!" Yuji shouted in the restaurant, far too loud for your comfort.

"Itadori-kun!" Nanami snapped from beside you, wine glass held up to his lips. Gasping at his mistake, he quickly scanned the restaurant, eyes skimming across lavish tables draped with silky white cloth, dainty lighting up above, and flower bouquets scattered across the room, but thankfully no wandering or surprised eyes from other patrons that were caught up in what he had yelled out.

"Sorry…" he said, dropping his eyes to look at the first few courses in front of him. Sighing, now Nanami was even more glad that he selected the most secluded table in the restaurant, far away from the other booked tables where everyone got an obstructed view of you three, but where he could see everything in the room.

You waved off your husband's irritation and squeezed his hand underneath the table. You waited until his knitted eyebrows relaxed a bit before you even thought of looking away.

"That's alright, Yuji-kun." You had met him before this, but you were sure that you had given off the impression of someone who was pampered and privileged as you opened up the door for Nanami and Itadori that one day in nothing but a simple chemise (that Nanami covered up before the teen's eyes) and your face mask on with your hair up. Certainly not battle-ready. Not to mention, you had introduced yourself as another office worker, leading Itadori to believe that was where you two met.

"You didn't know," you said understandingly before your eyes softened. "That's actually how Ken and I met — Oh, he was so different back then. He actually gave me a whole box of poetry inspired by our favorite emo bands back in — "

"Darling," he said sharply, rather than affectionately.

Laughing off the intense aura Nanami was giving off, you continued. "You know, I come from a pretty old sorcerer family. We were a big deal back in the Meiji period, but we all died off since then." With a shrug, you added, "My mom never wanted me to be a sorcerer anyway, so I guess it all worked out that I ended up quitting after graduation."

"Huh?" Itadori tilted his head in confusion. "If your mom didn't let you, how were you able to join Jujutsu Tech?" With those old coots around every corner, it was harder to get into JJ Tech than leave.

Barking out a laugh, you grinned at the pink-haired teen. "Cause I thought I was sooo edgy back then. I thought I was being so cool." Then, suddenly — you grew pacified as the onslaught of memories hit you. When you spoke up next, your voice was a lot quieter. "I was obsessed with being different and finding myself, I thought…" When your memories conjured up a certain brown-haired boy you had lost once upon a time, you faltered. "At graduation, I realized I ended up losing a lot more than I had discovered."

A large hand landed on your thigh, and you were only called back to earth after Nanami had given your leg a quick squeeze. Nothing suggestive or intense, but as you focused on the warmth of his palm and the feather-like touch of his fingers brushing across your skin, you focused again on the present.

"I was just lucky and landed myself a good job. My brother-in-law was one of the co-founders of a well-to-do startup, and they got me a cushy position, so I'm more than happy with what I have now." Placing one of your hands on top of Nanami's you made sure to point those last words at him, just to assure him. Righting yourself up to push these memories behind you, "And besides, I'm sure Ken has the short end of the — "

Slam!

When you blinked the splatters from your eyes, you realized what had happened around you. A tripped-over waitress was hands and knees on the ground, three dishes of your lamb roast had scattered across the polished wooden floors amongst shattered plates, and furthermore, your pristine button-up shirt was warm and drenched in dark red wine sauce.

"Shit," you muttered into the quiet air, and that was all you needed for chaos to descend from every corner. Itadori was yelling something in your ear, your husband was quickly trying to pat your shirt dry, the tearful waitress was extremely apologetic on her knees, and all while the owner of the establishment came rushing forward to see what the commotion was all about.

"What is the meaning of this!" the man roared, red in the face before whirling in on the girl. "Hima — !"

"M-Ma'am, I-I'm extremely sorry," she said with her head bowed while she was still on the ground. "I hope that you can please forgive me — "

"Hey," you said easily. The last thing you wanted was for a young girl to cry. "It's alright," you tried to speak up against the overlapping voices.

"Please forgive us," the owner said, head bowed as well while he gave her a nasty glare from the side. "She's new here. I assure you that this behavior is unacceptable here, and I'll be sure to — "

"Hey," you sternly spoke through. "It's fine. Really. Everyone makes mistakes," you said gently, keeping your eye carefully on the young girl. "And it's just a shirt. This will come off." Tilting your head up toward the blond man who was worriedly hovering around you. This was something that he gifted you. "This stain will come off, right?"

Giving you a quick nod, Nanami carefully pulled out the strands of hair attached to the side of your neck from the spill. "If it doesn't, I'll buy you a new one," he said immediately.

Quirking up your lip at him, you said, "That's unnecessary. Like I said, it's just a shirt." Catching the girl's eye contact, you said calmly, "Everything's fine. Please go patch your knee up." You excused her.

The boss seemingly wanted to argue, opening his mouth to argue as the girl thankfully nodded, hidden behind a curtain of her hair before she rushed away, but the sight of your husband's dark stare from over your shoulder, as he stood large, muscled, and broad, shut him up.

"Where's your bathroom?" you asked. Your shirt was becoming transparent and sticking uncomfortably.

The owner looked extremely apologetic again. "It's currently closed for cleaning, but I'll let my employees know — no more than five minutes — !"

"That's alright," you repeated shortly.

"Go get my wife a laundry bag and a towel." The owner certainly wasn't going to argue when your husband stood like a pillar behind you. Holding his clean hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he breathed carefully. "As fast as possible."

"R-Right away." With a bow, the owner made another uneasy promise of covering your dry cleaning, restaurant bill, and that he would send someone to clean this up immediately.

"Kennie," you called. As the spill cooled, the sauce stuck to your skin and was starting to become oily and coagulated, overall unpleasant the longer it lingered. Cringing, you said, "I don't want to wear this shirt any longer, can you help me?"

No further words were needed. With a quick flash of movement, almost as fast as how he took down curses with his ratio, Itadori watched as the older man pulled his blazer off his body and stood to hold it up around you like a curtain.

The man's large arms were nearly encircling you, muscles flexing as he tilted his body and blazer to give you all the privacy you needed to change. Facing the ceiling-to-floor windows that gave you the grand view of the Tokyo skyline, you began unbuttoning your shirt.

Although Itadori caught a peek of the top of your lacy black bra, he quickly averted his eyes with pink cheeks, both out of shame, and with how Nanami's gaze could've set him on fire.

"You can put your shirt here," Nanami gestured, nodding toward the back of his chair. Nodding, you quickly dropped your wet shirt out of your hands, allowing Itadori to see the LEMAIRE tag poking out from the folds.

You patted yourself clean with the cloth napkins you had around the table, and you thanked Itadori as he handed you his. Once you cleaned off as much of the spill as possible, your bare shoulders finally met with the sleek silk lining of your husband's jacket. As you slipped your arms around the oversized jacket sleeves, Nanami finished helping you button up his jacket.

Taking a knee, the blond man cleaned up your chair before he let you sit down. The blazer was comically oversized on you, giving you broad shoulders from the sturdy padding, and the lapels gave you a low cut where your bra could still be seen, but it was better than nothing.

The blond man let out a deep sigh. If he wasn't in public, no — if you two were the only people at the table, he wouldn't waste any time to tuck his face in your shoulder or rest his head on your lap even.

"Darling," Nanami started, and immediately Itadori was shocked at how the stern and reserved Nanami seemed so soft. "This date's been a mess, I'm sorry — " Weak even, against your presence.

"Why are you apologizing?" you said with a chuckle. "The date has barely even started yet! And now we get free food!"

Giving you a frown he added, "What's the point if you had to be embarrassed like this?" Beautiful brown eyes peered up at you, and you swore you could never get sick of the sight, not even to this day.

"Embarrassed? I've done a lot more humiliating things as a high schooler — willingly too." With a grin, you reached over to pinch his high cheekbone. "And I love wearing your clothes anyway."

"I — "

"Nothing a shower won't fix," you interrupted him by grabbing his face and leaning over to give him an Inuit kiss. "And what's the matter with one 'ruined' date?" Holding up your hand, you showed off your grand wedding and engagement ring. "You locked me down anyway," you said cheekily. "I'm not going anywhere."

Yet the blond man looked regretful anyway. Ashamed that he made your night anything less than wonderful.

You wondered where it all came from, this insane pressure to give you what he deemed as a perfect life — the perfect adulthood, rather. Perhaps it was from how you constantly repeated how much you valued and appreciated him when he was being bogged down by competitive coworkers who walked all over him.

Or perhaps it was from the look on your face as you sat next to Haibara's body in the morgue, as the light slowly dimmed from your eyes.

Heart swelling with true love, you couldn't resist pulling the man forward for a real kiss. One deep and hearty, skin against skin, until space had never existed, and you could get your atoms to touch.

"Um..." Itadori squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

Did you forget he was here?

#nanami x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami fluff

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niqhtlord01 · 4 months

Text

Humans are weird: The illusion of Pain

“The monastery is secured.”

“Excellent.” Vil said over his shoulder. “What of the survivors?”

“We’ve gathered them in the main hall.”

With that Vil waved away his underling and returned his gaze to the outside. Situated atop the tallest mountain range on the planet Vil had to give the humans credit for a truly majestic location to build a temple. He was also grateful that it was so isolated which made raiding it even easier. The nearest terran league outpost was a system away and since his pirate crew disabled the temple’s transmitter in the opening volley no distress signal had been sent out.

Turning from the view the pirate captain began walking the corridors to the main hall. He strode past several of his men ripping tapestries from the walls or carrying several large golden artifacts under their arms. Vil was not concerned with gathering loot himself. Once all the loot had been gathered aboard his ship he would get first pick of the treasure, and if any of his crew had kept loot for themselves before he had his pick they would find themselves the guest of the airlock chamber.

A short walk later and Vil had reached the main hall. Gathered at the center were a dozen or so human monks. They had offered no resistance to his crew when they attacked and as such none had been killed during the attack; though some bore a few new bruises from his crew’s “encouragement” to comply with their orders.

“You have all complied with my orders and as such I will give you a chance to earn your freedom.”

The gathered humans looked amongst themselves in confusion at Vil’s statement. “We are going to play a game.”

Vil entered several keys on his wristband and an energy barrier appeared around his person. It was capable of stopping level three plasma energy shots as well as the occasional thrown knife. He had known a few pirates who had neglected that last feature and had paid the price for their carelessness.

“If any of you can reach through this shield and touch my person, I will set you all free and return your possessions to you.”

Several of the humans looked up at this but Vil raised a taloned finger to forestall them.

“However,” Vil continued, “should none of you be able to complete this task you will be sold into slavery for profit.”

The sudden jubilation at potential freedom was just as quickly quashed by this statement and Vil grinned. He may not be a vindictive pirate, but that didn’t mean he had other ways to enjoy a bit of sadism now and then.

“I will give you until the final setting of the sun to win; you may begin when ready.”

His crew watched the humans whisper between each other before one of them finally stepped forward. Like the rest he wore a simple orange robe and had his head shaved to the skin.

Vil stood silently and watched the human approach him. He stopped just outside of the barriers range and reached out with a hand cautiously. The moment his finger touched the barrier a shower of sparks erupted from the point of contact and the human withdrew their hand immediately.

The surrounding crew guarding the humans laughed at the foolishness of the human monk. Looking down at his singed finger the human was horrified to see the top layer of skin for his entire digit was missing. The red pulsating muscle surrounding his bones was now clearly visible and the monk wept from the pain.

Vil looked down at the monk and shook his head. “If this was an easy game it would be no fun.”

The first monk retreated back into the group nursing his wound as a second monk approached. He walked as close as the first monk and stopped, taking several deep breaths and closing his eyes. Reaching out with his right hand the monk touched the barrier but unlike the first monk continued moving his hand forward as the energy barrier began to spark. He had made it all the way to his wrist before he finally gave out and screamed in pain; retracting his now flayed hand and collapsing to the ground.

Vil grinned and turned to his crew. “Anyone want to start a side wager?” he chuckled. “I bet fifty credits not one of them will get past their shoulder.”

His crew laughed and joined in on the side wager, placing all sorts of bets from which one will be the first to die to which would piss themselves from pain.

On and on this went as the sun slowly set in the distance and the room grew darker save for the light generated by the energy barrier. Vil watched as every monk stepped forward and tried their best to reach him. Many could not handle the pain after mere inches; while others tried repeatedly each of their limbs had been flayed in some manner by the barrier. One had even gone so far as to sprint at Vil in an attempt to use his forward momentum to reach Vil. That human had lost their footing just as they leapt at Vil and had merely grazed the barrier, and in the process flay half his body as he flew by the pirate captain.

“If there are no more contestants,” Vil finally declared as the sun was just about to set, “I think we can end this game.”

Vil was just about to deactivate the barrier when a voice gave him pause.

“I believe it is my turn.”

Vil looked up from his wristband to see an elderly monk slowly make his way through the crowd of humans. His pace was slow yet precise as the old man finally stood before Vil.

“You are the leader of these humans?” Vil asked the elderly human.

“Yes, I am the master of this temple.” They replied in a throaty voice dimmed by age.

Vil tilted his head to the human in recognition. “A pleasure to meet you,” Vil began as he waved a hand at the injured monks, “but I must ponder the nature of a master who allows his students to come to harm before he intervenes.”

To his surprise the elderly human shook his head. “A true master will let their students test what they have learned, rather than deny them the chance of enlightenment.”

This was not the response he had expected. “Then tell me, wise one, what have your students learned?”

“They have learned the meaning of pain,” the human replied, “but have yet to master the means of overcoming it.”

Without saying another word the elderly human walked forward. He did not outstretch his hand or leg as his students had but simply approached Vil with his back upright and his breathing calm.

The energy barrier sparked to life as the master stepped through it with his entire body as if it was nothing more than a gentle stream of a waterfall. Vil’s eyes went wide as he watched the skin from the human be peeled away by the barrier from his head to his toes in an instant. Yet what was more astonishing was that the human made not a single sound aside from his deep breathing, even as his clothes burst into flames and fell from him in clumps of ash.

His crew stood silent as the elderly human reached out with a now shriveled hand and touched the forehead of Vil with a single finger. They had never seen any being perform such a feat before and watched with baited breath for their captain’s next words.

“How…..” was all Vil could manage as he watched the flayed man standing before him.

Through lidless eyes the master looked up at Vil.

“Pain is a great unifier amongst the many peoples of the star ways; yet only when you realize that it is an illusion can you truly begin to experience the universe.”

He motioned to his gathered pupils who were still nursing their wounds. “Our order has been persecuted long before we reached the stars and in doing so has taught us much of pain.”

“And yet you appear to be the only one who has overcome it.” Vil remarked.

The flayed old man looked at him and smiled. “That is why I am the master.”

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #tw

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hyypnotix-writes · 9 months

Text

Part 2

~ hiya! I'm really nervous about posting this, but I couldn't not at least try to give you a second part after the response the last one got! ~

~ I really appreciate everyone reading it and enjoying it as much as you did ..I hope this one doesn't ruin it for you! ~

~ I think this one's around 13k words. so again ..it's a long one, if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ there’s quite a lot of story before Alexia makes an appearance, sorry ..but she does eventually show up! ~

~ I promise to put more of her in the next part if any of you end up wanting one ~

~ I’m really worried this will disappoint a lot of you, but at least you still have the first part to go back to, if nothing else! ~

~ I really hope you're able to enjoy it even just a little bit, and thanks again for loving the first part so much! the response was very overwhelming and I've loved you all reaching out to tell me that you liked it ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

~ Part 1 ~

________________

One night.

One perfect night.

That’s all it took.

One perfect night to throw your whole damn life into disarray.

One perfect night, that’s lead to endless subsequent nights, spent tossing and turning on your own, replaying the memory over on a loop in your mind. It’s only been about a month, but it feels like an eternity.

A never-ending, exhausting cycle of yearning and confusion.

It was the most welcome distraction from your ex-boyfriend’s evil escapades, you’ve not really thought about him at all since.

It should have set you free, broken you out of the chains of mundanity. It showed you a whole new world, a world of women. It gave you a new perspective on life. Unlocked a realm of brand-new possibilities all ready and waiting for you to venture, and yet, you don’t want to explore any of them.

It's not that you haven’t tried.

You’d have been an idiot to assume that it’s only her that can make you feel like this. That would be giving her an awful lot of credit. Yes, she was your first woman, but that didn’t mean that she needed to be your last. The way your mind and body reacted to her, maybe you could have been slightly gayer than you thought, but it doesn’t really look to be the case.

A pair of lesbian sisters always seemed incredibly unlikely to you, and your sister’s already called dibs on the label. Maybe it’s the mere existence of your younger sister that eradicates the possibility of any real queerness in yourself. That’s probably how the handing out of sexualities works, right?

It’s a working theory, and one that you seem to be proving the accuracy of.

You’ve been to a few more clubs since your entanglement with the Spanish mystery. Only returning back to that specific one, once. It gave you a headache just stepping through the door. She was still everywhere in the room, her spirit living in the walls. You barely managed to stay inside for even a second before it became too much for you, sending your heart and mind racing.

You took yourself back home, reminiscing every single kiss you’d shared with her on that fanciful journey back to her hotel together. Looking up at the floor she had been staying on, as you hastily walked past it on your own.

Even the nightclubs that aren’t haunted by her ghost, haven’t yielded much greater success with you.

You paid a visit to a smaller bar, a fair few nights after your perfect one, and had found a woman interested in you. More than interested. She was pretty, and friendly enough. She was flirty and bought you a few drinks. She didn’t try to play it weird by aiding you in your consumption of alcohol. There was no intriguing salt and lime foreplay. She was far more straightforward, far less irritating.

Maybe that’s why it didn’t work. Maybe she was too plain. Maybe she was too simple and easy for you to understand. Or maybe it’s the fact that when she pressed herself against you in search of a kiss, an alarm bell rang out inside of your head. You suddenly found yourself all too aware that she was a woman, and you simply no longer wanted to follow through with your curiosities.

It doesn’t help in your confusion, why the femininity of one woman can leave you feeling more certain of your straightness, while another’s femininity has you still helplessly pining after her.

It’s not like you were under any illusion with the Spanish woman. You were entirely aware that she was also a woman, and it wasn’t off putting to you at all. You enjoyed her being a woman. She smelt nice, she tasted nice. Her body was beautiful, and her lips were soft, and it doesn’t make any sense that she’s allowed to put a yearning in you that no other woman is able to satisfy.

That does seem very typical of her, though. She really was very cocky and frustrating.ﾠﾠ

Until she wasn’t, of course.

Then, she was just sweet and considerate. Cautious and careful. Flirty and undemanding. She took you back to hers and she still had no expectations from you. She was still willing to let you walk away. Maybe you should have.ﾠﾠ

You knew even then that you should have.

It was daft of you to follow after her. Foolish to lose yourself with her, spending the night together, giggling under the sheets. Sharing kisses as you drowned yourselves in each other. Learning her body, every mark, scar and freckle, and committing them all to your memory. Tracing her curves and her tattoos and discovering what it is that makes her tick.ﾠ

She was patient, and understanding, she wasn’t in a rush with you. She spent the whole night exploring with you. Studying your body, wanting to learn all the things you liked her doing, and the things you really liked her doing. She turned what could have been a terrifying, embarrassing, disaster of an experience, into the most incredible encounter of your life.

She brought you more pleasure than your pathetic ex-boyfriend had ever managed to give you in your whole 5-year relationship, in less than 5 minutes of her having your clothes off. She had the most unholy of noises spilling from your lips with her fingers and tongue inside of you, and she wasn’t exactly quiet herself, in letting you know when you were doing the right thing with her.

She was intoxicating, exhilarating. She was life-affirming.

She’s a far more dangerous addiction to you than alcohol could ever manage to be. You’ve never been tempted by drugs before, but you can’t even imagine the high from them being able to compete against what she’s done to you.

It was just one night.

It was one perfect night.

________________

Living back with your younger sister isn’t exactly where you saw yourself being at 26. Your London flat had started feeling a little too big for you, without a traitorous arsehole of a man invading your space. So, you invited her to move in with you, not wanting to have to give up your dream property just because he had decided to try ruining your life. You needed help with the rent, and she had gratefully accepted.

You didn’t necessarily expect her to also invite her idiot new girlfriend into your home with her. That wasn’t really part of the deal, though you didn’t explicitly tell her that she couldn’t. You can’t really blame her. If you were able to spend every waking moment of your life with ‘A’ right beside you, you’d jump at the opportunity headfirst.

It still doesn’t aid in the dispelling of your confusion. There’s no jealousy when you see them together. Her girlfriend does nothing for you, none of her girlfriends ever have. You both have decidedly different tastes in women. Your sister’s taste is entirely questionable, yours is perfection.

You haven’t mentioned your Spanish predicament to your sister. She’d probably laugh at you for it, call you tragic, and embarrassing. Tell you everything you’ve already been telling yourself on repeat in your head. She wouldn’t be very helpful; she very rarely is. She’s your very annoying, smart-arse of a little sister, who couldn’t possibly give you any decent advice. She’s 2 years younger than you and she's an idiot.

She’s not the one who’s still hung up on a stranger after over a month, though. It’s rarely taken her longer than 24 hours to get over someone she’s been with. She’s not the one who’s been questioning herself every night. She’s never questioned herself at all. You’re fairly certain her very first thought, straight out of the womb was about another woman.

She didn’t really have to come out to the family at any point, she kissed her first girl when she was 8. Always been a bit of a Casanova, your sister. A walking stereotype of a lesbian. Short, brightly coloured, undercut hair, quite a few piercings, heavily tattooed. She’s obsessed with women’s football, always watching re-runs of ‘The L Word,’ and overwhelmingly insistent in trying to prove to you that Taylor Swift is also secretly gay.

Your sister’s certainty in her own sexual identity isn’t something that’s ever irritated you before. Not when you were always so sure of yourself, too. You appreciated her confidence. It was admirable, given the way people can be with her. She’s your self-assured little sister, who isn’t great at confrontation. So, you support her whenever anyone tries to tear her down.

Now, however, this too-late-in-life existential crisis you’re struggling with, has you wishing she’d try to be a little bit more questioning herself. Her surety and cockiness about her sexuality is suddenly the most prominent attribute of her personality, and it’s really starting to drive you up the wall.

It’s a rare evening where it’s only the two of you at home together. You don’t really know where her girlfriend is, and you don’t much care. You only feel responsible for one annoying lesbian, the one who shares your surname.

She’s being rather antisocial with you, playing video games alone in her bedroom, and you’ve just finished tidying up the dining table after sharing the dinner you cooked for you both. You’re not exactly sure how you’ve found yourself solo parenting your stroppy little sibling when you’re really not much older than her yourself, but there you go.

Maybe you should try speaking to her. See what she can possibly offer you by way of sapphic guidance. If she’s going to continue having her nuisance girlfriend living here rent-free, she should at least try giving you something to make it worth your while.

You walk straight through to her bedroom and collapse your head onto her stomach on the bed. Making sure to do so with just enough force behind it to ensure you manage to leave her winded and interrupt her gaming. She grunts under you, and you earn an overly aggressive smack to your shoulder for achieving your goal. As, whatever other little child she’s playing her game against, has just managed to score past her.

“You’re a twat!” She scolds, and you backhand her face to shut her up. She raises her fist above your stomach, and you flinch, bracing for impact.

“I have a question!” You shout, before she has chance to attack.

She pauses her lifted fist above you, and reluctantly agrees to a truce, providing your question is of interest to her. “What?” She groans, and you fiddle with your fingers, trying to find the right wording.

“Why do you like women?” You ask, your face grimacing as you await her response.

It isn’t your smoothest ever phrasing, not your wittiest form of delivery. It’s honestly, rather annoyingly, not the most subtle line of questioning. Despite it not being entirely to the point, your sister isn’t stupid.

“What?”

Oh ..maybe she is!

That’s not going to be super helpful with your impending interrogation.

“Why not men?” You suggest, still trying not to be too blatant. “How did you know you liked women?”

“I looked at one.” She tells you, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Why?”

“Do you find every woman attractive?”

“No, but I find enough of them attractive to sense a pattern.” She explains. “Why?”

“And you’ve never been attracted to a man? Not even tempted?”

“No. Not once. Why?”

“Never ever?”

“Y/N!”

“I was just wondering.” You tell her quickly, drumming your fingers on top of your stomach.

“About women?” She queries.

“About ..why women. What it is about them.”

“Aside from the obvious?” She snickers, nudging your arm.

You quickly bounce your head back against her stomach winding her again.

“Stop doing that!”

“Stop being annoying!” You warn her. Your frustration at yourself getting the better of you.

She tries to push you off of her, but you mess with the analogue sticks on her controller, and she turns her focus back to salvaging her match. “You really are a twat! Get out!”

“I need your help.”

“I don’t care!”

“..I’m sorry.” You mumble, and she scoffs at you, pushing you off of her bed unceremoniously.

You can’t say you blame her, you’re a constant threat to her in that position, it’s too big of a risk. You enjoy bouncing your head and ruining her childish little game far too much.

“Why do you like men?” She counters, and you find yourself stuck for words as you sit on her floor.

It’s the question that’s been floating around your own head for a little while now. You’d never thought about it before. You just were. You had crushes on them all throughout your childhood, you’d had meaningless boyfriends in your teens, you met your bastard ex at university and figured that was it.

You didn’t need to question why you were attracted to them, it just always made sense.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, letting out a groan as you grab one of her pillows and bury your head into it.

“What’s going on?” She asks, as she prods at your shoulder with her foot.

“Nothing. I was just—”

“Thinking about women?”

“No!”

It isn’t really a lie, you’re not thinking about women, just the one. The one woman who’s been invading all of your thoughts for the past 30 something days. The one who won’t let you sleep properly at night, who won’t let you focus completely at work.

The one woman who refuses to leave your head for even a second just to let you rest, to let you breathe, to let you remember what life was like, prior to her entering it and recklessly setting fire to everything, before she ran away from you and disappeared into thin air.ﾠﾠ

“I kissed one.” You confess, trying to suffocate yourself with her pillow.

This really does take her by surprise. You can hear her movements on top of the mattress as she turns her game off and pulls her pillow from you with a rather startling urgency. There’s great confusion on her face as she looks at you. She really must think you’re very boring if that’s enough to render her speechless. Imagine her reaction if you admitted to all the other things you did to the Spanish enigma.

“You kissed a woman?” She asks, frowning at you.

You’re not entirely sure why she looks quite so cross about it. You’re not trying to steal her thunder here. You’re not about to start trying to catch up with her numerous exploits of female companions.

“Mhmm.” You mumble in reply, smoothing your hair back from over your face.

“Why? For a man?”

“No! I just wanted to ..I thought it’d be fun.”

“..and ..was it?”

“Mhmm.”

She looks at you with a very distinct air of incredulity. It’s a rather annoying look, weirdly condescending. She doesn’t believe you. Why she thinks you’d bother lying about it, you really do not know. You’re not that desperate for a story to tell her.

It’s almost offensive that she thinks you’re so incapable. You didn’t just kiss a woman. You went down on one, you had your fingers inside of her. You evoked moans from her, she scratched her nails down your back. You’re not some virginal prude. You’re not inept. It can’t be that shocking and inconceivable that you could share a single kiss with someone of the same sex.

You were right, telling your sister was pointless. She’s offered you no assistance and no support. She’s a useless little waste of space and her horrible girlfriend is an advantage-taking little freeloader.

“Thanks, very much! This was really helpful!”

Your words are laced in sarcasm as you slide yourself up away from her bed with a sigh, throwing your middle finger up back in her direction as you exit the room, and slam her bedroom door shut behind you.

You slam your own bedroom door shut behind you too, just in case she hadn’t picked up on how pissed off you are.

You’re not really pissed off with her. She doesn’t know what’s going on inside of your head. You’re pissed off with yourself, for still being all entirely far too consumed with a woman whose name you do not know. Who wouldn’t even bother sharing her profession with you. It isn’t fair.

You collapse headfirst onto your bed and let out a rather guttural groan into your duvet. You’re very frustrated. Your brain’s a mess, your sexuality’s up in the air, and you allowed yourself to picture, far too clearly, your memories of having sex with the gorgeous Spanish woman and now that ache that she’d put inside of you is back.

There’s a knock at your door, and you’re not in the mood. You grab your duvet and burrito yourself in it down to the foot of your bed.

“Y/N?”

You don’t even grace your sister with a response. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s a swine.

No, but she really is a swine, as you can hear her turning the doorknob and just walking right into your bedroom anyway. She’s really, unbelievably terrible at reading social cues.

“Do you want to come to Spain with me next week?”

See what I mean? What the hell?

That’s a very serendipitous little offer, though. You didn’t even mention to her that the woman that you kissed was Spanish.

Did you?

She can’t have worked that out by herself. That would be insane. She’s already proved herself to not be the sharpest tool in the shed. That wouldn’t make any sense. What an intriguing little invitation.

It’s very embarrassing that just the mention of the country sends a shiver down the back of your neck. All this instant adrenaline running through you, as if she’ll just be waiting for you there as soon as you land down in a random Spanish airport. Yeah, that seems likely!

Spain’s not the biggest country in the world, but it certainly isn’t small. You’re not going to accidentally stumble into her again on the beach, or in a marketplace. She’s definitely not going to be staying in the same hotel that you’d be in.

It shouldn’t have your heart racing like this. The chances of finding her again are so infinitesimally small, so extremely impossible, so overwhelmingly unlikely ..but you do stand a better chance, if you’re in the right country.

“Next week?” You mumble under the sheets, playing it incredibly cool, as you try to ignore the way your heart’s started thumping at a thousand beats per minute.

“Yeah.”

“I thought you were going away with your girlfriend?”

“..we broke up.”

Shit. She would make this all about herself.

You wiggle yourself free of your duvet cocoon and open up your arms for her to crash into you. She might be a useless little swine, but she’s your useless little swine. “Are you okay?”

“Mhmm.” She grumbles, as she starfishes herself on top of you.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. You never liked her.”

“That’s not true.” You protest half-heartedly, kissing the side of her head.

“I am fine ..I broke up with her.”

“Well, thank fuck for that!”

“See!” She laughs, rolling off the side of you. “You hated her!”

“She was horrible!”

“You could’ve said.”

“You wouldn’t have left her if I told you to. You’d be getting bloody married to the girl. Twat.” She giggles defencelessly next to you on the bed, because you’re absolutely right. She has always been a contrarian little thing. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll find someone else tomorrow.”

“Unbelievable.” You chuckle, shaking your head as you push her away. “You can’t just give me her ticket. Did she not pay for it?”

The embarrassed little look on your sister’s face is all the wordless response you need. Her girlfriend never paid for anything. She really was an advantage-taking little freeloader.

“Where are you going in Spain?”

“Barcelona.”

“Why?”

“Football.”

“Oh! Give me a break!” You exclaim and roll down away from her back to the foot of the bed. “Why are you going all the way to Spain just to watch some football? You can bloody watch it here.”

“It’s the Champions League!” She informs you excitedly, and you can’t even pretend to match her enthusiasm. “Chelsea’s playing Barcelona.”

“Woo.” You respond flatly, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. “You watched them play together today, didn’t you? Why are they so bloody obsessed with each other? Even I know there’s more teams than that.”

“It’s the second leg..” She starts explaining, but none of it means anything to you, and you really just can’t bring yourself to care.

Going all the way out to Spain to be stuck inside a stadium with thousands of screaming fans? What sort of holiday is that? You don’t care about Chelsea’s success or failure. Your sister’s dirty crush on their star-striker is just another one of her many celebrity infatuations that you can’t make any sense of.

You don’t want to sit next to her as she gets herself all hot and bothered watching women run around a football pitch. You don’t even enjoy watching men do it, you have no interest in watching women.

“No. I’m good, thanks.” You tell her, dismissively.

“Please? We can do more than just watch the football.” She offers, pouting pathetically. “You have to come with me! I’ve just been dumped!”

“No, you haven’t!” You remind her, laughing at her useless attempt at guilt tripping. “And you haven’t really left me much time to negotiate with work.”

“You work too hard and you’re due some time off! Your boss isn’t going to refuse you, just bat your eyelashes at him. The filthy pervert.”

“Hm.” You mumble, drumming your fingers over your stomach as you think.

She isn’t wrong, about you working hard, at least. You do like to bury yourself in your work. You enjoy your job, and the harder you work, the more you earn. You haven’t had time off in a while, and your boss is unlikely to say no to you, you are his favourite employee. You don’t agree that it’s because he has a crush on you, you get good results for the company, and attract lucrative clientele.

If batting your eyelashes could get you back in the arms of your Spanish one-night stand more easily, though, you’re not above flirting with him to get you there. You could take a few days of leave, go off to Spain, and possibly run into the woman who’s been living inside of your head.

It’s such an incredibly remote possibility. An absolute stab in the dark chance of finding her. She probably isn’t even in Barcelona. You’re not cultured enough to be able to pin her accent to a specific city. She’s just Spanish. There’s much more places in Spain than just Barcelona. Barcelona isn’t even the capital. Maybe she’s in Madrid, Valencia, Marbella. She could be a party girl living on the island of Ibiza, you had originally found her in a bar. You don’t get a body like hers drinking yourself senseless every night, though.

What if you do find her, and she wants nothing to do with you? There was only ever the promise of one night together. You already pushed your luck by spending the rest of the morning with each other, she doesn’t owe you anything more. It’s unlikely that she’s been spiralling quite as pathetically as you have. She’s not going to be fending off a sexuality migraine.

You undoubtedly won’t have been the absolutely mind-blowing experience to her, that she was to you. She’ll have had sex with countless women. She definitely enjoyed herself with you, that much you’re certainly sure of. You can’t fake every bodily reaction to someone, but the rest of it could have been for show. The display of heartbreak afterwards.

So, maybe she’s an actress, that would certainly make sense. It would explain why she had money, and why she had a company paying for her hotel. Maybe that was her little ‘business trip’. Perhaps she was in London promoting a Spanish movie. Maybe the entire thing was all a performance, and you fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.

Either way, stalking her in Spain would be far too pathetic. Even if she does want you to find her, it’s so desperate and needy of you to go all that way, and if she doesn’t want you to find her, you end up looking insane. Travelling to Spain, to possibly just show up right there on her doorstep? What a terrifying thing for you to do to the woman.

But what if it’s a sign?

Your clueless little sister, inviting you all the way to Spain, with absolutely no idea that the woman you’re harbouring all of these confusing emotions for, lives there? Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s the universe trying to get you back together. Maybe she didn’t fake it, she does feel the same, you’ll find her in Spain and spend the rest of your lives together.

Please. Behave and be so goddamn serious with yourself. You sweet and simple, delusional little fool.

“The woman I kissed was from Spain.” You inform your sister thoughtfully, and she sits herself up on your bed to frown at you.

“You’re still going with that?”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“You’re straight. Straight straight straight.” She points out, with such an incredibly annoying inflection to her voice, it makes you want to bang your head against the wall. “You’re also 26. You were in love with an ugly bastard for 5 years and you’ve never shown an interest in a woman before.”

“I hadn’t met her before.”

“Gayyy!” She giggles, and you give her an almighty clack on her arm with the back of your hand, to wipe the smug little smile from off her face.

“Go with the woman you’re hooking up with tomorrow.” You instruct her. “I’d be a nightmare to watch football with, you’d have to keep explaining things to me.”

“I don’t mind doing that.”

“Do you have no other friends to go with you?” You laugh and she pouts dramatically again, shaking her head. “You’re a lonely little loser!” You tell her with a smile.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” She asks, rolling her eyes at you.

You take in a deep breath and let out a very heavy sigh.

What’s the worst that can happen?

She’s already completely upturned your life. It couldn’t make things any worse for you. Whether you’re able to bump into her or not. You’ll either find yourself some peace, lounging in the Spanish sun, or you’ll be left in exactly the same position you’re in now, but with a much healthier glow to your skin.

You could even find yourself a Spanish man while you’re out there.

Mm.

It’s really not a good sign for your heterosexuality, that that’s no longer an appealing option to you.

“If I can sort it with work,” you reason, “yes. I’ll come to Barcelona with you.”

She lets out an embarrassingly girly squeal and crashes her head against your stomach, with just enough force behind it to manage to leave you winded.

“Twat! I’m making no promises about going to the game, mind. I’m just coming for the tan.”

“Maybe your ‘Spanish lesbian’ is also a fan of football.” She encourages

“Mhmm. I’m pretty sure she is.” You admit contemplatively. “Is that an entry-level of requirement for lesbianism, then?” You ask, rolling your eyes. “Because if that’s the case, I really can stop questioning myself.”

________________

Booking time off work really is as easy as your sister thought it would be. Maybe your boss does have an inappropriate crush on you like she suspects.

She’s very excited about having you for company, and she tries to educate you on all of Chelsea’s history, the players’ statistics, and their personal lives, all before you go on your little trip together. It really does just go right in one ear, and straight back out of the other. You’re not fussed on the facts and figures; it’s not why you’re going.

There’s not enough room in your brain to care about the ins and outs of Sam Kerr and Kristie Mewis’ relationship. You’re not interested in the fact that Chelsea currently have 6 WSL titles, and are going for their fifth-straight one, and you really aren’t bothered that the semifinal’s first leg match against Barcelona ended in a draw.

That is a fair amount of information for you to have retained already despite not being interested. Your sister really has been going on at you, you’re almost a footballing expert.

Touching down late in the morning in Barcelona, you can’t pretend there isn’t a tiny part of you that’s letting yourself get a little carried away with dreaming. You’ve played through enough countless scenarios in your head of running into the Spanish wonder again back in London, of course your mind’s racing with the possibilities in Spain.

You drop your bags off at the hotel your sister’s booked for you both, with the intention of heading back out to explore the city together. It’s a peculiar looking building, bright red, oddly shaped. She really never has been one for subtlety, it’s the perfect sort of accommodation for her.

She insists on wanting to have a look at the Olympic Stadium before the big match, as well as seeing the state of Camp Nou’s renovations, and you really can’t indulge her any more than you already have. You probably will end up joining her for the game tomorrow, but you’re absolutely not walking around the outside of football grounds for fun.

You’ve seen the exterior of Stamford Bridge more than your fair share of times, Wembley, the Emirates. There’s not that much difference between the lot of them, and they’ve never really been your favourite form of modern architecture.

So, you agree to go your separate ways for your first afternoon in the city, you’ll meet back up with each other tonight.

Playing tourist around the streets of Barcelona on your own, is quite an exciting little experience for you. You’re not very worried about getting lost, despite not speaking too much Spanish beyond the basics. Your hotel’s a distinctive looking building, it’s not going to be super difficult to find your own way back to it.

You get a taxi further into the main hub of town and you’re able to mosey about with a rather unrestrained confidence, turning down tight alleyways and strolling aimlessly along multiple cobbled streets. You manage to find yourself being comfortably led astray, by allowing nothing more than just the warm gentle breeze to guide you as it blows against your body.

It turns into a more casual exploration of the more authentic side of Barcelona away from most of the tourist hotspots. You have no real idea where you are, and you’re quite enjoying the small rush of adventure.

A coffee is what you start craving, and you’re not exactly limited by options. Every other building on the peacefully quiet backstreet you’ve found yourself on, seems to be a tiny café. You could start ip dip doo-ing all the individual offerings, but that’s putting far too much consideration into it. You decide to go for the smallest one, the most unassuming. The best coffees always come from the places that aren’t trying to market themselves to any foreign tourists.

A little bell rings out as you step through the door and the barista almost jumps out of his skin at the sight of you, he clearly isn’t used to getting anyone other than his regular patrons. You offer up your friendliest of smiles and a quick ‘hola’ to show him that you mean no harm, and you tap your finger gently on the countertop as you inspect the board behind his head.

Choosing the littlest coffee shop might have been a tiny mistake because absolutely everything on the menu is written in what you can only assume, is a rather confusing variation of Spanish. You can’t back out now, the barista already has an adorably excited look on his face at having someone new in his little shop, you can’t break his heart like that.

You study the chalk written on the board for entirely far too long, in the hope that the words will slowly start translating themselves for you. It doesn’t work, obviously. So, you take a punt at a random one of them, with the rather daring assumption that you haven’t just ordered yourself a troubling batch of Spanish poison.

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you surely do not know. It’s recognisably ballsy of her, almost rude.

Her words echo in your ears, as time stands still around you. You’d recognise that voice anywhere, with that unmistakable, and entirely enchanting, cocky little tone to it.

You can’t really have found her so easily. Life’s never been that kind.

You can feel your heart clattering around in your chest instantly. Like it’s trying to escape from your ribs, to go off and say hello to hers, all by itself. Your chest’s rising and falling intensely as your breathing shallows and picks up pace.

It can’t be her; it can’t be. This city’s just absolutely full of Spanish women.

She holds out her card right over you to pay, gently resting her arm down onto your shoulder, and you’ve definitely seen that tattoo before. The ‘11’ printed on her wrist.

She’d refused to explain the meaning when you’d asked her about it. She wouldn’t give you the backstory behind any of her tattoos. It was too personal; you weren’t allowed to know.

She thought you might have really fallen for each other if you both started sharing too much information about yourselves, and you only had the single night to spend together.

“It would be too painful.” She had reasoned with you.

That was very clever thinking on her part. She absolutely managed to prevent you from having an awful lot of heartache and suffering about the whole thing, by letting you know absolutely nothing about her..ﾠ

You still can’t bring yourself to turn around and look. Even though you know it must be her. It can’t be likely that there’s multiple Spanish women that have branded themselves with that specific number on that specific part of their body. Surely to god.

“..gracias.” You manage to choke out very shakily, in little more than a whisper, still facing forward.

You have to turn around at some point. You can’t very well drink your coffee on the tiny little counter right in front of the barista when you can’t even have a conversation with him. Just staring at him, silently, neither of you able to speak each other’s language? That would freak him out! You’ll find yourself back on a plane headed for England before you know it, with a restraining order hanging over your head.

Grow up and turn around. Just turn around.

It’s her. It has to be her.

The barista accepts the woman’s payment method with a familiar little smile back at her, and she carefully retracts her arm from over your shoulder slowly. You can smell her perfume on her wrist as it wafts back past the side your face. You recognise the scent, and you find yourself following it round you like a lost little puppy, your knees almost giving way beneath you.

You didn’t accidentally stumble upon her at the beach. It’s not a Spanish marketplace. She definitely isn’t staying at the same hotel that you’re in.

You’ve found her, while getting yourself lost. In the tiniest little café, on an unnamed, tumbleweed backstreet, right in the very heart of Barcelona.

There’s a wide smile of disbelief on her face. Which is hopefully an indication, that she isn’t terrified of you being here, she hadn’t faked her feelings, and she, much like you are with her, is a little overwhelmed to see you.

“Hi.” Is all that drops out of your mouth, as your mind goes blank at the sight of her.

“Hi.” She says back, with the exact same breathlessness as you, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

“….Hi.”

“You’ve already said that.” She reminds you, and she’s clearly able to bring herself back to her senses far more quickly than you are, because there’s that charming little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips again.

You’re not really sure which one of you instigated it, you both just sort of ended up colliding into each other, gripping at the material of each other’s clothes. It’s a very desperate hug. Even more so than the one you shared outside of the hotel elevator. You melt into each other, merging yourselves together like two corresponding puzzle pieces.

It’s an embrace, holding not just the 12 hours of curious devotion between you, but over 30 days' worth of frenzied yearning. It has you both clinging to each other with everything you have, as it defies everything you came to accept as truly achievable, that heartbreaking belief in you, that this reunion would never really happen.

It’s an impossible hug, and it’s one that neither of you want to pull away from.

“What are you doing here?” You mumble against her, clinging to her shirt as she buries her head in the crook of your neck.

“I think it should be me asking that question.” She tells you, chuckling. “I have far more right to be in Barcelona than you do.”

“This is where you live?” You ask. “You’re from Barcelona?”

“Mhmm.” She murmurs. “Mollet del Vallès.”

There’s really no reason for that to be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. It’s only a place name. It’s a good job she didn’t spend much time speaking Spanish to you back in London, you really would have been like putty in her hands.

“What are you doing here?” She questions.

“I thought you might want your sweatshirt back.” You joke casually, and she loosens her grip on you slightly so she can face you.

“Do you not want it anymore?” She asks, furrowing her brow as she studies your face.

There’s a clear look of uncertainty in her eyes, a small sense of worry, and you do feel mildly guilty for teasing her. “I was hoping ..maybe I could swap it for another.” You smile. “It doesn’t really smell like you anymore.”

She doesn’t allow you to feel guilty for too long. That small air of arrogance that’s always threatening to escape her, does so, in a predictable little smirk at the implication.

“You’ve been wearing it that much?” She asks you proudly, and you push your tongue against the inside of your mouth as you roll your eyes at her typical display of cockiness. She carefully closes the small distance between you both again, gently pressing herself flush against you. “Does it smell of you?” She whispers in your ear, sending a ripple of goosebumps down the side of your neck.

“Mhmm.”

“Mm. Maybe I could be persuaded to make a trade, then.”

She’s impossible for you to resist when she’s like this. It’s still an intriguing talent she has, evoking such a physical reaction from you, by doing hardly anything at all. A quiet little whisper in your ear and your body’s immediately burning up next to her? You’re still so incredibly tragic.

You might no longer be certain of your sexuality, but maybe it really doesn’t matter. Why do you need to understand it? Why does it need an explanation? No one else in the world is important at all when she’s standing here in front of you. No one else would ever really stand a chance. How could you ever be interested in anyone else, when you know that this woman right here exists? How could any other person ever truly compare?

There’s a desire in you that’s clearly also felt in her, when she moves herself to look at you. It’s written all over her face, the twinkle in her beautiful eyes, and the fact that her lips are so incredibly close to yours.

You lean in, and so does she, but it’s like something quickly shoots through her body, as though she’s suddenly being brought back into the room. She does a quick scan of the café, and she collects herself before she lets you both get carried away.

“We can’t kiss in here.” She tells you quietly, and you frown at her as you pull yourself back.

“Why not?” You ask, doing your own quick search to try and find what she saw to put her off.

No one seems too interested in you, though there’s admittedly a couple of people discreetly watching her. She is very beautiful, so it’s not surprising, but you do sort of wish they’d stop their gawking. This gorgeous woman is here with you, and you’re not really in the mood for sharing.

“There’s not another bloody homophobe about, is there?”

“No!” She laughs, shaking her head. “Well, I don’t know, actually. I haven’t asked around, but we just ..can’t kiss in here.”

It’s curious. She didn’t have any issues kissing you in front of people before. Spanish people are very famously more physically affectionate with each other than British people are. So, it seems unlikely that the two of you would turn too many heads just by kissing.

“Okay..” you accept reluctantly, pouting a little at the rejection, “so ..should we just quickly nip outside to do it then, or?” You joke cheekily, pointing to the door with your thumb.

She chuckles with you, resting her forehead to your shoulder. “You’re still as straight as ever!” She grins, as she wraps you back up in her arms.

It’s quite nice just losing yourself in her embrace. Burying your head in her neck and holding her tight against you. Having her arms back around you, her perfume overwhelming your senses. The rest of the coffee shop fades into a blur with her in your arms. She’s comforting, reassuring. She’s real, and she’s here.

“Ale!” Is called out by the barista not a minute later, and you’d have very happily paid it no attention at all. The immediate flinch from the woman that you’re holding, in response to it, however, tells you that you might have just found out a very valuable piece of information indeed.

You repeat it under your breath, as she pulls away from you and goes to collect your coffees from the counter.

She says a quiet ‘moltes gràcies’ to the barista, and she narrows her eyes with a small grimace as she returns to you. There’s still a clear reluctance in her to give too much away, she’s not entirely grateful to her little coffee friend for unknowingly revealing slightly more to you than just her first initial.

Ale. It must still be short for something, you figure. You start reeling off name possibilities at her in quick succession. Alessia, Alex, Alexis, Alexa. You’re like a dog with a bone, because she makes it clear that you’re getting closer, but she still shakes her head at every guess.

It’s very frustrating, as she offers you absolutely no assistance with your guessing, but it can’t be as convoluted a mission as trying to discover Rumpelstiltskin’s ridiculous name. Thankfully, it isn’t. It’s on only your 5th attempt that you cause the same small flinch in her, and she smiles softly at you before looking down very quickly. You’ve struck gold.

Alexia.

It’s a beautiful name. Your favourite name, you’ve decided. It rolls off your tongue with so much ease, you want to repeat it again and again.

“Now you know too much.” She sighs whimsically, handing you your coffee as she walks past you to collect her bag from the table she was previously sitting at.

She gestures for you to follow her and leads you to a quieter area away from the other customers right at the back of the shop. She pulls out your chair for you to sit down, and you can’t not smile at the tiny act of chivalry. She really is very sweet. It’s a shame that she won’t let you kiss her.

You reveal your own name to her, as she joins you on the other side of the table and she repeats it back to you quietly. Whether it’s the sexy Spanish accent, or just the fact that it’s her saying it to you for the first time, you’re not entirely sure, but your heart skips a few beats after hearing it.

“Now we both know too much.” She tells you, and she takes a small sip of her coffee.

There’s the tiniest level of nervousness, that blankets itself over you both as you sit together. It’s a little absurd, you’ve seen this woman naked. She’s seen you naked. It isn’t technically a first date between you, neither of you asked the other to be here, but you both clearly have the little jitters of being on one, coursing through your bodies.

You find yourself just watching her a few times as you talk over your drinks together. You still can’t really believe you found her so quickly. So, you don’t want to risk taking your eyes off of her for too long, in case she just disappears into thin air while you’re not looking.

She’s also the most beautiful sight in the café. So, why would you want to waste your time looking at anything else?

You’re not being very discreet about your staring at all, and neither is she, really. You keep exchanging shy smiles over your cups as you catch each other looking. Both of you blushing and quickly averting your eyes as they meet, and then gradually repeating the whole thing all over again. You’ve definitely caught her gazing a few more times than she’s caught you. So, maybe she’s even more tragic than you are.

The little coffee you ordered by chance, is Alexia’s usual order, so she tells you. It’s not the most life-changing piece of information for her to share with you, but it’s something else for you to know about her, and you’re absolutely sure to make a note of it. It probably keeps you on an even tally too, she already knows that you enjoy drinking a tequila.

You’re still not allowed to kiss each other, for whatever obscure reason, but she has reached for you hand under the table. Interlacing your fingers together isn’t a new thing between you both, and neither are those tingles that immediately shoot up through your arm at even the most innocent of touches from her. She really does have an incredible effect on you, it should probably be more terrifying to you than it is.

“Why are you really here?” She asks after a moment, as she strokes her thumb over your knuckles.

“My sister dragged me here.” You answer. “It’s a very important football match tomorrow, apparently.”

“The one against Chelsea?” She asks, with an unmistakable look of interest in her eyes, that has you rolling your own lightly back at her.

“I think she’d say against Barcelona,” you point out with a sigh, “but yeah, that one.”

You had managed to work out that Alexia was probably a bit of a football fan. She has a little stick figure tattoo of a footballer on her leg, the outline of a baby being given a ball on her back, and you have exceptional detective skills. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

So, it isn’t a surprise that she’d be excited by your footballing interests, but it is unfortunate that you really don’t share the same passion for it as her.

“Unless you’re a very daring rebel,” you start, “I assume you’ll be supporting Barcelona tomorrow?”

“Mhmm,” she murmurs, with a small twinkle in her eye, “and you’ll be supporting Chelsea?”

“Not emphatically,” you admit with a smile, “but I’ll be in that section of the crowd, yeah.”

“You don’t really care about football at all, do you?” She asks knowingly, with an edge to her smirk that’s intriguing, as you shake your head at her in apology. “Maybe you should introduce me to your sister instead, then!” She winks, and you very quickly remove your hand back out of her hold.

“Don’t.” You tell her. “Please. Don’t even joke about it.”

It’s admittedly a little cute that she finds herself quite so hilarious for her disgusting little joke, but you are very unamused by the idea. If the childish look of mischief on her face wasn’t so entirely endearing to you, you may very well have got up and left her right then and there.

She rests the back of her hand on your thigh with her palm outstretched, and you roll your eyes at her before placing your own hand back into it. She raises it to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, leaving you with the faintest of blushes across your cheeks. So, maybe you can find it in yourself to forgive her just this once.

“I have a sister.” She reveals. “Her name's Alba. She’s a few years younger than me. I’m the older sibling, like you are.”

“Uh oh!”

“What?”

“Well, now I really do know too much.” You tell her with a wink.

“My sister’s Emily.” You inform her rebalancing the tally of facts you keep sharing with each other. “Though she’d kill you for calling her that. I think she’d change her name completely if she didn’t think it would upset our Dad so much. She just goes by Em these days ..so ..she probably would have enjoyed your silly little initial idea, actually,” you admit thoughtfully, frowning a little at the realisation, “maybe I really should introduce you to her instead..”

“Por favor.” She says quietly, quickly shaking her head at you and raising your hand to her lips once again. “Don’t even joke about it.”

“Will you be going to the game tomorrow?” You ask, a not-so-subtle attempt at finding out if you might be getting to see each other again so soon. “We’d be like star-crossed lovers in the stands. Very Romeo and Juliet of us!”

“I don’t know that we want to be comparing ourselves to those two! I don’t remember it ending very well for them.” She reminds you, narrowing her eyes at you as her intriguing little smirk returns to her face. “And no. I’m working tomorrow, I won’t be in the stands.”

“Boo. You can’t be that big of a fan, then!” You tut in disappointment. “I’ve come all this way to support my team!”

“Your team!” She chuckles. “Will you be there in a Chelsea shirt?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll be in very neutral colours.”

She smiles, nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she lowers her eyes to look at the table. She knocks her hand gently on it a few times before turning her attention back to you. It’s impossible to know what she’s thinking, but she’s definitely debating something silently in her head.

“I could give you a Barcelona one?” She suggests a little cautiously, and you have to smile at the idea. Your sister would certainly disown you if you took one of those back home with you. It’d be worth it, just to see the look on her face.

“You have a very weird habit of offering me your clothes.” You tell her slyly.

“Mhmm. I really like seeing you in them.” She admits sultrily, and your breath catches as her eyes darken looking at you. “I think I have one in my bag, if you want it.”

It’s a surprisingly sexy little offer, and you do quite like having her clothes on your body. It’s hard not to laugh at her peculiarity, though, even your sister isn’t that crazy of a football fan.

“You just ..carry it around with you at all times?” You ask, furrowing your brow as you chuckle at her. “That’s really weird of you! Do you sell them? You go round offering them to unsuspecting tourists? Is that your job? Is it a fake? Are yo—”

“You need to stop trying to know things about me.” She interrupts softly, shaking her head as she chuckles.

“And just ..blindly accept that you always have a football shirt on you?”

“Mhmm.” She giggles, and you narrow your eyes at her.

She really is very curious.

She pulls it out from her little duffle bag from under the table and hands it to you with a gleam in her eye as you take it from her. You push your empty coffee cup to the side and spread the shirt out over the table to study it.

They’re not exactly your colours, but you can probably make them work. You hold it up against you to check that it will suit, and she bites her lip as she watches you. There’s a name printed on the back of it, you realise, and you smile a little as you read it in your head.

“Don’t most adults keep it blank? Or just go for their favourite player?” You ask smirking. You turn the shirt around and rest it over yourself, and she gently bites at the skin around her fingernail as you trace the lettering over your chest. “I thought it was just little kids that got their own name on the back. Do you quite like pretending you’re also on the team?”

“Mhmm ..maybe.” She mumbles, stifling a giggle as she rests her head in her hand. She smiles at you fondly, as she continues gazing at your little shirt inspection.

“That’s really very cute of you.” You tell her, placing the shirt back on the table and leaning over it as you trace your fingers over the number. “Why ‘11’?”

“Hm?”

“11. You have it tattooed on you. You’ve chosen it for your shirt.” You point out. “Is it your birthday? You were born on the 11th? You were born in November? Born on New Year’s Day? Is it just your lucky number? Is it—”

“Stop, trying to know things about me.” She interrupts again quietly, reaching for your hand and meeting you across the table to rest her forehead to yours.

“But I want to know things about you.” You whisper. “I want to know when your birthday is. I’d like to know your surname. I want to know what you do for a living, how you got those scars on your knee, how much you weighed when you were born. The name of your first crush, where you went to school, the meaning behind your tattoos. I want to know each and every incredible milestone you’ve ever achieved, and all the unfathomably boring things that you got up to in between each of them. I want to know every single detail about you, and your life, Alexia. I really, really want to know you.”

It’s quite the thing for you to confess to the poor woman after only meeting her on two separate occasions, but the way her grip on your hand kept tightening as you spoke, the slight clenching of her jaw, and the fact that her lips are dangerously close to yours once again, probably means you haven’t just completely scared her off with it.

“We’d have to spend a lifetime together, trying to learn all of that about each other.” She whispers to you, her lips lightly brushing against yours.

“Is that a proposal?” You chuckle, gently bumping your nose to hers. Your eyes trail to her lips, and it’s really very hard to not act on your impulses. “Am I really not allowed to kiss you in h—“

It seems that you are allowed to kiss her in here, when it’s right at the back where no one’s watching. Or she’s allowed to kiss you, at least, because there's no doubt which one of you instigated this. Her lips move against yours, and your pulse reacts to her immediately.

It's a kiss harbouring an awful lot of emotion, for two people who still hardly know each other. It's slow, passionate, careful, and every confusing little worry that's been plaguing your brain since the last time you kissed, instantly melts away into nothing as her tongue slips back into your mouth. You're the only two people in the world when her hand's pulling you in by the back of your neck, and you’re tugging her closer by grabbing at her shirt.

It’s probably a good job she did decide to take you further away from everybody else, because it doesn’t stay an entirely family-friendly kiss for very long. It’s not wildly inappropriate, you’re not animals, and the bastard table’s in the way of you doing too much with each other. Thank goodness it is, because it’s been over a month, after all, and you’re both clearly quite a bit needy. You really can’t be doing that in public.

“I’ve missed you.” She murmurs against your lips, pulling you impossibly further into her.

“I really missed you too.”

Hours feel like minutes, in Alexia’s company, as you spend the afternoon roaming Barcelona together. She still refuses to tell you everything about herself. You don’t learn her surname, and she still won’t tell you what she does for a living, but you do both share other things about yourselves with each other.

It doesn’t matter how insignificant any of the details probably are. Every single one of them still feels important to you, because it’s another little glimpse into her. Every single fact, story and secret that she shares, is what makes Alexia, who she is, and she was absolutely right, you do find yourself falling more for her, with all of the little things you keep discovering.

She eventually agrees to tell you her birthday. Which makes the whole ‘11’ obsession even more intriguing to you, because the 4th of February ’94 does absolutely nothing to clear that little mystery up. It does tell you that the man in his twenties that you were looking for the night you first met, didn’t even turn out to be a woman in her twenties at all. She turned 30 nearly 3 months ago. She’s absolutely decrepit!

She gives you a tiny tour on your stroll together, bringing some clarity to the Catalonian streets you’ve been carelessly walking down. Explaining the extra confusing writing on the menu board, and casually revealing to you that she can speak 3 different languages. So, your drunken boast about your GCSE level German, probably wasn’t very impressive to her at all.

You’re both approached a fair few times by people asking for directions. You can never understand what it is that they’re saying, and you're not really of much use to them just standing there being awkward. So, you hang off a little to the side taking in your surroundings, waiting for her to help them out, before she excitedly returns back to you. You’re not at all bothered by the interruptions. Your patience with it keeps earning you a quick discreet kiss from her as she wraps her arms around your waist, and you return the same display of affection, for her unrelenting kindness to strangers.

Alexia insists that she isn’t a tour-guide, and she’s also not an actress. So, you are very slowly whittling down the options of what it is she could possibly do for a living. She asks you about your own career, which is incredibly cheeky of her, considering. So, you simply refuse to tell her.

Maybe it’s that competitive streak in you, but if she wants to play it secretive, you can absolutely match her for it. You only agree to give her the corresponding facts to the one’s she’s willing to give to you. That way, if she’s falling for you with each new piece of information the same way that you’re doing for her, at least you’re both crashing down for each other, at exactly the same speed.

There’s slightly less careless abandon with being too physical with each other, walking hand in hand around Barcelona. It’s arguably tame compared to how you both were back in London. Whether it’s the lack of alcohol that’s keeping her more reserved, or maybe just because it isn’t yet nighttime, you’re not entirely sure.

You’re still stealing kisses as you waltz along the streets, but you’re not pushing each other up against the walls of buildings out in the open. Maybe that would be a little indecent of you both. You’re pulling each other down quiet alleyways, instead, pressing yourselves together in secret coves.

It doesn’t feel entirely necessary, the streets you’re exploring aren’t particularly packed with people, but you don’t question it too much. You’ve really just missed having her lips on yours, and whatever capacity she feels comfortable doing it in, you’re more than willing to oblige.

You couldn’t really care less who sees you kissing her. You all but forget that they exist when she's pulling you into her and leaving her mark on you. It is arguably far more exciting, however, trying to be sneaky about it with each other. You're both almost actively searching for places that you're unlikely to get caught in. Finding hidden areas and seeing how much you can get away with together.

Your hands find their way under her shirt on more than one occasion. She really does have the most beautiful body. She jokingly reprimands you for it each time, but she doesn’t really discourage you from doing it. She does continually tease you, for your ever-decreasing signs of straightness, though.

Each newly shared kiss with Alexia, is somehow even better than the last. Whether she’s passionately throwing caution to the wind with you, by kissing down your neck, or trapping your bottom lip between her teeth. Even when she’s just being painfully frustrating, by giving you the quickest of pecks before skipping away. Every single one of them still sets your soul on fire, and they still manage to pull all the air right out from your lungs, every single time.

Alexia waits with you, as it turns to evening, on a bench by the road for your taxi back to your hotel. You try not to let the mild burning in your eyes ruin your final moments with her, but you can feel yourself starting to break.

She pulls out the football shirt from her bag again and holds it out for you to take with a shy smile. “I really hope you enjoy the game tomorrow.” She says, and you try to allow yourself to chuckle a little while nodding your head.

“Mhmm. Thank you, I’ll try.” You tell her, throwing her shirt over your shoulder and quickly rubbing the corner of your eyes. “I’ll have to get Em’s permission to wear this, first. She’ll be very unimpressed with me.”

“Just don’t let her burn it!”

“I won't.” You promise, interlacing your fingers with hers and placing a kiss to the back of her hand. “The other fans might throw tomatoes at it, mind!”

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, and there’s that familiar sense of dread in your stomach, as you watch the road, knowing your time together is quickly running out again.

You catch her gazing at you as you turn to her, and maybe there’s a little butterfly or two in your stomach as well, at the way her eyes are watching over you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

“Mhmm. You haven’t even gone yet,” she tells you smiling, tucking your hair back behind your ear, “and I already can’t wait to see you again.”

“You’re really that certain that you will? You’re still sure you don’t want us to swap numbers?”

“We’ve already bumped into each other a couple of times now. I have no doubt we’ll manage it again.”

It’s nowhere near as reassuring to you as it seems to be to her, but there’s a certain level of romance in her conviction in fortuity. Maybe you are beginning to believe in the possible existence of fate, though you're not completely enamoured by continuing to leave your encounters with Alexia, entirely up to chance. She cradles your head in her hands and gently wipes the tears that are threatening to spill from your eyes with her thumbs.

"I'll never forgive you," you warn her weakly, "if this ends up being it for us."

"Trust me." Is all she asks of you, and she pulls you back into her, resting her head against yours as she runs her fingers over your back.

It feels like an unspoken promise from her, to keep at least trying to find you, and there's a power in her certainty that has you desperate to believe in it too.

It’s still a little hard for you both to say goodbye to each other, but she’s already told you she has a busy day tomorrow, and you can’t really bring her back to your hotel when your sister’s already sharing the bed with you. You share another long hug, and a few more secret kisses before your taxi pulls up, and you finally hesitantly agree to part ways. She places a kiss to your cheek, by way of goodbye as you clamber yourself into the back of the car, setting off without her once again.

You try to reassure yourself, on the taxi ride back to your hotel. You've ran into each other twice, in two separate countries, by pure dumb luck. It can't be impossible for it to happen again. Maybe there’s something connecting you both, an invisible string, an intangible little bungee cord, that's making sure that neither of you is ever able to truly stray too far away from the other. Alexia has ‘no doubt’ that you’ll manage another meeting again, and you take some comfort in knowing, that you still have 2 days left in the city, to do exactly that.

________________

Collapsing back down to lay on the bed in your hotel room, you have a sneaking suspicion, that you’ll have a far better night’s sleep than you’ve managed to have in a long time, tonight. Your mind isn’t spiralling with confusion anymore, and there’s no longer a gaping hole inside of your chest.

There’s an excitement in you, a warmth. An encouraging little hope that you really have found something special. Someone special. That once-in-a-lifetime connection with another person who’s also trapped in this world along with you.

It definitely isn’t the someone you expected to intertwine your soul with. Any younger version of yourself would be very confused about where she’s ended up. It isn’t a connection you want to keep questioning either. It’s not one you really have any doubts on the existence of at all. She’s just it for you, and maybe it’s okay that that’s all you can say to justify it.

You don’t need to be attracted to other women; you don’t really care about your weakening attraction to men. It just makes sense when you’re together with her. There’s no confusion, no uncertainty, there’s no warning alarms ringing out in your head. There’s just Alexia, and the existence of anything and anybody else, will always pale in comparison to her.

Your sister arrives a little after you, plodding back into the hotel room, clearly wiped from whatever individual Spanish adventure she got up to today, and she flops herself into one of the armchairs with a very heavy sigh.

“Long day?” You ask.

“Mhmm.” She mumbles, frowning at you suspiciously. “You look very happy?”

“I am very happy!” You tell her with a smile. You excitedly roll over and reach down the side of the bed to retrieve your souvenir of the day from its hiding spot. You launch it right into your sister’s face and she grunts a little under the impact. “Will you hate me, if I wear that tomorrow?” You ask, trying to contain your newfound enthusiasm.

She pulls it off from where it’s wrapped itself around her head, and she gives you a very unimpressed look. “You bought a Barcelona shirt?” She asks, clearly disgusted with your choice of fashion.

“I was given it.”

“By?”

“..a woman.” You tell her, gently biting your bottom lip as you smile up at the ceiling.

“Mm.” She mutters with a sigh, moving to join you over on the bed. She thwacks the shirt down over your stomach and lets out a huff next to you. “Well, at least she has good taste.” She tells you. “Or she’s just a bit basic.”

That’s a little rude ..and very confusing.

“What do you mean?”

“Going for the best player on the team.”

That’s less rude ..but even more confusing.

“..What do you mean?”

“Are you joking?” She asks, with a very clear tone of annoyance to her voice. She grabs the shirt and thwacks you with it again. “A woman gives you a shirt with a name on the back, and you don’t even care enough to ask who the bloody player is?”

Maybe your head is racing again. That’s incredibly confusing. It really doesn’t make any sense. It’s her name, not a player’s name. Maybe they just share a name. It’s not an incredibly rare name, that’s not impossible.

Your Alexia has a mild interest in football, she’s not playing it professionally. Who would keep that a secret? She’s reticent with sharing information, that’s for certain, but she’s not a bloody liar, and she told you she wouldn’t even be there tomorrow.

No.

She said that she was working tomorrow, and that she wouldn’t be in the stands with you.

Your mind has started racing, and so has your little heart.

“What. do. you. mean?” You repeat slowly, trying to keep yourself calm.

“Alexia Putellas.” She tells you, very nonchalantly, and your brain all but short circuits at the name.

“Who is Alexia Putellas?”

She thwacks you again with your shirt in dismay, and you’ve really had just about enough of being treated like a piñata. You sit up, pull it from her hands and thwack it across her face as you ask her to explain herself.

“She’s a footballer, for fuck’s sake!” She shouts, rubbing the palm of her hand against her eyelid. “She’s Spanish. She plays for Barcelona!” She pulls out her phone, to search for her Instagram and bonks you on the head with it. “That’s Alexia Putellas, you twat.”

You look at the profile, and the hotel room blurs around you. You can feel your heart thumping in your chest, hear the blood pumping around in your ears.

Your Alexia, is Alexia Putellas.

She doesn’t sell shirts for a living, she’s not an actress nor a tour-guide, she really isn’t even a spy. Though she’d probably make a pretty good one, the way she never gave this piece of information away.

Your unexplainable connection with another human being, and she plays football for a living? Clearly very well too, as 2 of her pinned photos have her holding a massive award for it right next to her face. Every other post on her page is about football. She’s Barcelona, through and through.

She’s verified, she has over 3 million followers. She’s been out here, existing on the world’s stage, all this time, without you ever knowing. Your own sister’s been privy to more information about her than you have.

She was in London a month ago for football, according to her Instagram posts. The cryptic little ‘business trip’ she was on, was a quarter-final match against Arsenal. An embarrassingly easy win for Barcelona, she must have been out celebrating it when she found you in that club.

She was back in London again last week for football. You could have seen her then. You missed a chance at an earlier reunion with her, because you refused to go with your little sister to watch her in the first leg against Chelsea.

Your breathing’s very shallow as you scroll through the endless stream of photos. Your mind is absolutely spinning. It’s all a bit much to take in. You lock your sister’s phone and place it back on her chest as you try to collect yourself. You really don’t want to risk learning too much about her. You want her to tell you everything, you don’t want to find it all out behind her back.

You’ve been waiting with bated breath all afternoon, savouring every little piece of information she’s given you, and your smart-arse little sister could probably tell you loads about her if you asked. Lots of the details you’re so desperate to know about Alexia are probably only a quick google search away, but you feel guilty enough just knowing her surname without her having been the one to tell it to you.

She hadn’t been super willing to even give you her first, and no wonder! It’s the single name that’s plastered on her shirt, it’s the name she’s known mononymously as. She’s women’s football’s answer to Beyoncé, Adele.

Of course, she didn’t want to kiss you in front of people in the café, out there on the streets. It’ll be why she only kissed your cheek in front of the taxi driver. She probably is a little liar, because she almost certainly wasn’t giving directions to people when they approached you both. She presumably isn’t old friends with the two men who wanted a photo with her. They all just know who she is. The whole damn city of Barcelona knows exactly who she is.

Maybe she was testing you, waiting for you to crack, to confess to knowing everything about her. How couldn’t you know about her? How unbelievably rude of you.

She’s a celebrity footballer, and you’ve treated her like she’s one of the most normal people in the world. You’ve flirted with her, teased her, kissed her, slept with her, and she’s welcomed it all with that adorable little smirk.

So, maybe she’s liked that you didn’t know, that you really had no idea about who she was at all. You can’t have had any preconceived thoughts about the woman when you’ve had no prior knowledge about her. Perhaps it’s been part of the fun for her, just being with someone who really couldn’t care about the noise surrounding her. Maybe that’s the reason she didn’t really want you knowing about it. Her fame could have changed things, pushed you away.

It wouldn’t have. She’d have to do something intrinsically evil to frighten you off. Especially now, after the afternoon you’ve just spent together, learning more, and falling deeper for her. She’s still just the woman that baffled you with a lime in a nightclub, wound you up by kissing someone else. Rescued you from a night of undeniable regret, and turned it into the start of something magical.

She’s your once-in-a-lifetime connection, your confusing, and frustrating, perfect one-night stand companion. She’s the woman that's turned your whole world on its head, and it just turns out, that she quite likes to kick a ball around, with a bunch of other women for a living, and people from all over the world, have been watching her excel at it for years.

She has to know that you’ll have found out already, you’ve told her your sister’s football obsessed. Even if your sister didn’t know who she is, there’s bound to be other people wearing her name on their backs tomorrow. Probably not many of them were given their shirts by the woman herself. There’ll be even less of them with one of her sweatshirts in their bag.

Maybe she’s excited for you to connect all the pieces together. Giving you her shirt was far too bold a move for her to still not want you to know. She’d have just talked you out of going to the game, if that was the case.

She wants you there, being a very daring rebel, with her name boldly resting between your shoulder blades, rooting for her and Barcelona, right in the middle of the Chelsea fans. You’ll probably stand out like a sore thumb with your red stripes in the sea of blue you’ll be standing in, and maybe that’s exactly what she’s hoping for. She had ‘no doubt’ that you'd see each other again, after all.

“She’s the best player on the team?” You ask your sister dreamily, collapsing back down on the bed and clinging to the shirt in your hand as you hold it against your body.

“Mhmm. Best in the world.” She tells you, and there’s that exhilarating little thrill shooting right up through your body.

“Oof. I’ll tell Sam Kerr you said that!”

She scoffs to the side of you and flicks your forehead playfully. You lift Alexia’s shirt, holding it out in between your fingers to study her name again in disbelief.

You're falling in love, with the ‘best in the world,’ and she seems to be falling for you, too. A little nobody from London, who’s spent the past month pining after who she thought, was a little nobody from Spain. She’s once again turned your whole damn world on its head.

She really is absolutely everything.

“I will hate you if you wear that thing tomorrow.” Your sister warns you, as she hits the shirt with the back of her hand. “I offered you a Chelsea shirt and you gagged at it!”

“I’ve not gagged at this one.” You point out with a grin. “It’s a shame you won’t be friends with me tomorrow.” You tell her, resting the shirt back out over your torso.

“You can’t wear it!”

“I bloody can, and I very much will.” You inform her. “You should rethink wearing a Chelsea shirt. You’ll be very disappointed when we beat you tomorrow.”

“‘We?’ You really are a twat. You’re Barcelona’s biggest fan all of a sudden?”

“Too bloody right, I am!” You tell her decidedly, hugging the shirt against you. “I’ve always loved football, me.”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

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savviathan · 7 months

Text

There is a warden in decked out.

Hypno knows this, partially, because he’s been to level three himself. He knows that wardens roam the catacombs of The Black Mines on every level, sniffing out his scent faster than any ravager ever has—even though his run to level three was short lived—and Hypno knows that because… well, it’s hard not to know things with his namesake. It was a bit of a stand off of senses, really.

But Hypno isn’t talking about those wardens. He’s talking about the one that’s everywhere, and effectively, nowhere all at once. He’s talking about the one he’s heard humming in the shop. He’s talking about the one growling in the crypt. He’s talking about the heartbeat, identical to the thu-thud of Decked Out’s, in the spider’s den and the pirate ship. He’s talking about the sniffling sound, and something akin to a chuff, as he rides the minecart into the dungeon.

Indeed, there is a warden in Decked Out’s walls.

Tango doesn’t seem to be aware of this fact. At least, Hypno thinks he isn’t. Despite the Deepfrost Citadel and Decked Out’s visible complexity and design, Tango’s general observation skills aren’t as cracked up as it seems.

He mentioned his concern to the guy a few days ago, just before phase one ended so it, theoretically, could be fixed before phase two. To ensure fairness, and all that jazz.

As Hypno turns a corner towards the River of Souls and hears the faint groan beneath his feet, he knows it wasn’t fixed. He hops over the hazard trapdoors all the same and bounds towards the stairs of the crypt—and comes face to face with a ravager. He turns around. Whatever. He’ll just go—

The compass flips directly back into the crypt. Darn it.

Deep from below (or left? or right? sometimes it feels like the sounds are right on top of him) a warden chuffs.

It sounds like laughter.

Just yesterday, Hypno asked some of the others in the waiting room—or, the daycare? is that what they were calling it now?—if they’d heard the warden in Decked Out’s walls. False had said she thought she heard one in the circular room towards the front of level one, but she might have confused it for a ravager instead. Gem said she definitely heard one in level two a few days ago. Etho said something about speculating it was some kind of secret regarding the fourth level, which Cub immediately shot down by saying that the distance between levels would be too far if they were to assume level four was below level three.

Scar said he had heard a very loud growling inside the shop. Something like warbling, half jumbled noises and speech that seemed to range between content and very, very irritated. Tango had told him it was a squirrel.

Grian had spun around on a dime and gave the most expressive face he could muster with only his two eyes as he yelled, “Why on earth would there be a squirrel in the dungeon, Scar!”

Good news, Scar no longer thinks it’s a squirrel. Also good news, from that conversation, Hypno had came to the conclusion that he was not, in fact, going crazy.

Bad news—Reckless Charge is played, Tango’s disembodied voice announces, and Hypno scrambles over a nearby shrieker only to trip face first into a dripstone stalagmite in his haste—now that he knows this thing really isn’t supposed to be here, it makes the irritated growling at least ten times worse every time he picks up his frost ember spoils.

Hypno slides into the next room and finds a key laying atop a pile of snow. He scoops it up, shakes his hand free of frozen powder, and turns back around.

Now that he’s thinking about it, Hypno really wishes he’d asked Scar when Tango had told him the warden noises in the shop had come from a squirrel. Having a timeline here would be extremely helpful. If Tango already knew there was a possibility of a loose warden and still lied to Scar… Well, of course, there was always the possibility Tango was just messing with the guy, but…

Hypno drops his key into the slot.

He furrows his brows. Well. That would be really weird.

It would be really weird, actually, because Tango was a game design perfectionist. He set out to make the best possible design and playability in a game known to man, and expected others to do the same. He expected everything to run smoothly, and would test and test and test some more until it would. Everyone knew that. Tango wouldn’t just purposefully leave a warden to wander around Decked Out.

Or maybe he couldn’t find it? Hypno purses his lips. That somehow seemed less likely. Tango knew the ins and outs of this game like nobody’s business. He was tangled up in its redstone guts for thirteen months, for god’s sakes.

So why…

It feels like a truck hits his abdomen.

Hypno yelps, startled out of his thoughts, and crawls back into the entryway of level two. He glares at the ravager, head poking through the doorway innocently. Hungrily. Hypno sighs and begins to stand back up.

Maybe he was putting too much thought into this whole “warden in Decked Out’s walls” thing. He couldn’t even hear it anymore, anyways.

But by god, he couldn’t help it if his head swam with all of the possibilities, the reasons, the details—the fact that the hermits knew it was there, and tango didn’t, and wasn’t that odd—the everything that came along with this game, and this particular unexplainable detail about it.

What a meticulous creation, to have something so uncared for.

Hypno dives into the water. He swerves out of the way of an incoming trident and rolls out onto land, dripping wet and breathing hard. He would have to ring out his bandana between these runs again. That was going to start becoming a hassle very soon. One he would have to endure, unfortunately. God forbid he take off his bandana for a full run and accidentally see where every evoker was hiding in the floorboards.

There’s a key lying on the ground just in front of the dripstone caves. He rushes over to pick it up.

The door chimes. Hypno steps through and down into the darkened stairwell once more, half squatting, half tiptoeing, at the plateaus. Deep below, loud enough to shake the lantern’s flame on the shelf next to him, there is a wet warble of a warden.

It’s appropriately timed now, Hypno thinks, but it still makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up all the same. The warden is loud now, louder than when it was in the walls, and the floor, and in front of him. It’s almost like being suffocated, the sound bounces off the walls and into his eardrums and makes it sound like it’s on top of him, or just behind him, or—

Or everywhere, and nowhere all at once. In the shop, in the dungeon, in the walls. Always present, never visible.

Following.

Hypno freezes in the entryway to the Black Mines. There is a warden in decked out. Two, actually, but that second one is of nowhere near his concern as he looks directly into the spot where this warden’s eyes would be, no more than ten feet away from him.

The darkness pulses around him. Hypno takes a step back, hand searching for the stairwell’s walls and missing, waving at air instead. The warden growls.

Darkness floods Hypno’s vision. It pulses around him, wanes, and Hypno reaches back for the stairwells walls. His hand misses. The warden wails. It bounds off of the walls, reverberates as a horrible shriek. The walls are nowhere to be seen, and the sculk at his feet hums as it reaches closer for his skin, thrumming and shrieking to the same tune. Hypno scrapes his hands on the ground as he falls, staring at black, then blue, and then black, and Hypno sees robes as his eyes widen, darkened and silk in texture with snowflakes embroidered into the seams, and blue, and black, and blue eyes where they shouldn’t be, and the heartbeat is deafening now, he can see it pulse through the warden’s chest as it howls and its chest opens, and Hypno thinks he sees his face in one of the souls it carries there, and black robes, and blue eyes, and a darkened hood, and a cackling laugh, and Hypno screams as the warden blasts his head clean off.

He shoots up in bed. There’s sweat on his forehead. The voices outside call his name. Hypno breathes hard, and sits there, and puts his hands in his hair.

There is a warden in Decked Out’s walls. As Hypno stares up at Tango, a nervous smile on his face, he realizes, there always has been.

#savvieposts #savviewrites #hermitcraft #decked out 2 #tangotek #hypnotizd #fanfiction #im so excited to post this

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ches-fallen-from-heaven · 9 days

Text

Sweets ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Pairing: Soft Yandere Nanami x fem! Bakery owner! Reader

Summary: Nanami just wanted to see what all the popularity about that one bakery in town was. He didn’t know he’d fall so hard for the girl who looks just as sweet as the cakes she bakes.

Tags: Yandere Nanami, Kind of coquette reader, no-filter reader, Kidnapping, Stalking, Obsessive/Toxic Nanami, Manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome, murder.

Wc: 2.1k

Nanami sighs, as he starts fighting another curse in a dark and abandoned alleyway. Glancing at his watch, the corner of his lips turns into a frown. Just as he finishes killing the horde of curses in the alleyway, he looks at his watch, 5:56 Pm. 4 minutes before he’d go into overtime. As he walks out of the alley he fixes his coat. Deciding he at the very least deserves something nice, he proceeds to walk towards the newly opened bakery.

The bakery that’s been the talk of the town. The desserts and treats being delicious and the employee’s kind and friendly. Every time he’d walk pass it on the way to work, he’d see it packed and filled with people. Glancing at his watch again the time read, 6:06 Pm. A ten-minute walk from where he had been. He stared at the sky numbly, lips pursed into a thin line. Is this everything that there is to life? Going into work, killing curses, going home exhausted. Rinse and Repeat.

Seeing the familiar exterior of the bakery he walked a little bit faster. A volt of excitement flowing through his veins. He’ll finally be able to see what the bakery was all about. Or in Yuji terms, he’ll be able to see what the ‘hype’ is all about. As he opened the door a chime of the bell rang through the almost empty bakery, only two tables that are occupied. A family and a couple sharing their deserts.

He sees two women talking behind the counter. The one wearing the Apron leaves, who he assumes is the employee working the counter since this morning. He hears you telling the other woman to ‘rest’ as you take over. As you look at him his eyes widen, a ringing in his ears as his heart beats so loudly. He thinks- no he knows he just fell in love.

• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .•

You smile at him, giving him a small wave. A tall, suit wearing blond, with a weird tie and weird glasses? He seems just your type. A thought runs through your head, ‘I’d call him daddy.’ You shake your head pushing away your thoughts as you spoke, “What would you like today sir…?” You looked at him wanting him to say his name. He let out an awkward cough as he Answered, “Nanami. Nanami Kento.” You nodded still smiling. “Would you like to sit down? I’ll bring you a menu” you say smiling.

Nanami sees the family who was one of the last people in the bakery. It is late after all. “Aren’t you guys closing soon? I wouldn’t want to be a bother. I can just order it as takeout” he says staring at you intently. His eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. “It’s only 6:40 Pm! We close at 7:00.” You say as you let him sit down giving him the menu with a smile. “Plus, I’ll give you a free hot chocolate? Since you’re also our last customer for the day it seems.” You say watching the Couple who was the last people there aside from Nanami and you.

He really doesn’t do hot chocolate, but with your glittering eyes and sweet smile he couldn’t say no. He orders a few desserts as you nod. You come back holding a tray of the food he ordered and the free hot chocolate you promised. As you were about to leave him with his desserts, he spoke up. “Are you the owner?” You look at him nodding with a smile.

“Yep!” you answer enthusiastically before remembering something. “I’m y/n by the way!” you say smiling as you leave him.

You leave your bakery, locking the doors after your employees leave. As you started to walk home you could constantly feel someone staring. Watching your every move. You took in a deep breath opening a pocket mirror pretending to apply something to your lips as you glance at the mirror to look behind you. You see a blur of a yellowish blond hair, but it quickly disappeared. Your lips pursed into a thin line as you continued to walk.

Who even was that? You weren’t going to be an idiot and say it was ‘probably nothing’. You let out a deep breath the cold not helping with short adrenaline rush you felt. You continued walking home not feeling the staring anymore.

The moment you woke up you stretched your body feeling tired and sluggish. Was it the cold weather last night? Either way, you stood up and proceeded to get ready. You walk to your bakery tiredly. Not looking where you’re going you bumped into someone, you fell backwards no ass to land on sadly. You apologized sincerely but the man you bumped into still proceeded to scream at you. Calling you stupid for not looking where you’re going.

You stood up sighing. You were in no mood for some random screaming dude this early into the morning, plus you already apologized. You started to walk away only for the man to pull your shoulder, pulling you backwards. You spun around only to see the guy on the pavement, holding his jaw in pain. Nanami towering over him.

You look at Nanami, eyes soft as you spoke up “Thank you.” you say a smile on your lips. Nanami looks at you for a few seconds before speaking “I’ll walk you to your bakery.” He says already walking. “Only if you let me give you a free dessert.” Nanami looks at you in surprise. “You’re going to go bankrupt if you continue giving me free stuff.” He says seriously the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

You laugh walking next to him. The two of you arrived as you opened the doors. “It’s pretty early Nanami, does your shift start this early?” You ask opening the lights and the windows. The bakery looked enchanting at that moment. The sunlight illuminating the place, your face getting kissed by the sun.

At that moment Nanami realized that he wanted you all to himself. The world didn’t deserve you. The filthy curse filled world didn’t deserve to see your beauty. Those intolerant disgusting people don’t get the honor of being graced with your presence. He’d come back for that man that dared to lay his hands on you earlier and kill him.

Those type of people just pollute the world with curses anyways. He didn’t realize he’d been staring that long. You waved your hand around his face, trying to get his attention laughing softly. “Will a strawberry shortcake be alright with you?” You ask putting on your apron struggling to tie the back.

Nanami noticed you struggling, going behind you and taking the strings from your hands he ties the apron gently. He leans in close to your ear, “can I order a coffee too?” You froze for a bit. His voice raspy and deep, you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You nod as he sits down watching you walk away.

Getting the slice of strawberry shortcake for him and his black coffee. The moment you put down his food you covered your nose and mouth and you let out a sneeze. Apologizing immediately, you went to wash your hands. “Be more careful at night. It’s cold.” He said drinking his coffee. You shivered remembering the person following you last night.

You nodded smiling. “I know. It’s my fault for not bringing a scarf last night.” You say getting the bakery ready and preparing the desserts to be sold. Nanami nods watching you intently. “Hey Nanami, are you stopping by later again tonight?” You ask him.

He seems surprised by your question thinking it over. “Yes.” He answered looking at you. You grin, “Good because if you said no, I would have asked for your number right now.” You say teasingly. His eyes widen taken aback. “What happens if I don’t come later?” He asked taking a bite of the cake. “Well, you’ll miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime!” you say laughing,

He lets out a small smile shaking his head. “Ok. I’ll be sure to be here.” You smile at him happily. He pays for the coffee leaving the bakery. Before he goes to work it seems like he must do something first. Making a call he proceeds to go somewhere.

Arriving at a run-down house, he opens the door loudly. The man from earlier looks at him in shock before he started screaming profanities at Nanami. It was cut quite short as Nanami swung his sword cutting the man’s neck in half. He looks at the drop of blood on his shoes and suit. He touched his face seeing the blood on his fingertips. Looking at the mirror on the wall he sees the splatter of blood on his face. He sighs taking off his coat, looks like he’ll need to change.

Nanami looks at his watch, the time 6:08 Pm. He started to walk towards your bakery, only to stop by a store seeing a light-colored scarf. Thinking of what you said earlier and your sneezing because of the cold he went inside the store. Watching as the cashier place the scarf into a paper bag his thoughts spiraled on how to make you trust him. Make you trust him and… save you from the world.

He opens the door to the bakery only to see you cleaning up a table. He frowns, you shouldn’t have to do that. You shouldn’t have to work. You shouldn’t have to clean up after other people. Once you see him you smile at him.

“Looks like you’re my last customer again. Well, that is if you order anything.” You say smiling. Nanami hums sitting down. “Did you make me come here just to coax me into buying your desserts?” he says amused. You gasp at him dramatically, “How could you accuse me of such a thing!” you say feigning hurt.

“But seriously, do you want to order anything?” you ask him. “I will, if you sit down and tell me about yourself while I eat.” He says watching you. “Hmm deal!” you say. You take his order setting it down in front of him, before sitting down right in front of him.

The night goes by as the two of you talk and chat with each other. Your ‘slight’ crush on Nanami grow as he tells you more about himself. He’s 28 years old and lives alone. He told you he also works as a teacher. After his stressful day he just wants to get home, have a meal, and drink some whiskey before reading and go to bed.

You also told him about yourself. How old you are, what your favorite food was, and your hobbies. One of them being baking. No wonder you opened a bakery. The more you two talked the more he justified his growing obsession with you. The more he needed to know everything about you.

You closed the bakery Nanami behind you. It was one of the best nights you’ve had. Having no time to talk to guys being busy with the bakery and all. “Nanami, what’s your number?” You ask looking at him. He opens his phone showing you, his number. Putting it in your contacts you smiled.

You sneezed again the cold weather hitting you. Nanami suddenly remembered the scarf he had bought. “Here. Since you said you forgot to bring a coat.” Taking it out of the bag he walked closer to you. You stood frozen as he gently wrapped the scarf around you. You looked at him light tint of pink on your cheeks. “Thank you” you say softly.

“Want me to walk you home?” Nanami asked looking at the red tint in your cheeks. You nodded following him. As you arrived home you waved goodbye to Nanami as he waved goodbye back at you. The moment you stepped inside your house you take off your coat, hanging it. You freeze in realization. Too busy with staring at Nanami and your heart racing earlier you realize… how did he know the way to your house?

#yandere nanami #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #Yandere #X reader #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jjk #jjk nanami #yandere jjk #nanami fluff #nanami angst

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starzshopoflove · 8 months

Text

Simon "ghost" Riley x Reader

Notes: fem reader! i hc ghost doesn't wear a mask when he's off duty, this is just whatever rot my mouse brain creates, age gap but not to crazy, sfw mostly ,size kink if you squint, literally just me projecting onto reader sorry

no thoughts just ghost meeting cute little civvie reader in a shop when he's just trying to get his shopping done after coming back from a mission just wanting to fill his fridge with enough beer and groceries that vaguely resemble food

Simon watching you struggle to reach the flour from a set high shelf in the aisle, grumbling to yourself about "who fucking needs flour anyway" still trying to reach it and he just pluck it off the shelf and drops it in your cart before making his way to another aisle and your just left looking stupid watching this giant trudge away with a little blue tesco basket in tow

Simon who notices you at the same book shop he frequents, but your perched behind the counter doing god knows what ( vaguely resembles inventory but hey do what you will) calculator in hand as he peeks from behind a bookshelf trying to remember where he's seen you before.

Civvie reader who passes her days working quietly in a book shop and living in a simple one room flat indulging her romantic needs in fiction too nervous to actually talk to men, fictional ones satisfying her needs better. That is until you see some books on the counter sliding over to scan them.

"Your total's 23.55" you mumble looking at the screen "Cash or Card?" you add before lifting your head to meet the brick wall of a muscle man. Oh OH, no thoughts as you just stare at his pecs in your line of sight thanking whatever god you believe in for the sight before you, better then anything your little brain could muster up even with the detailed descriptions authors would spit out onto the pages you read

You violently peel your eyes away from the most beautiful pair of man tits you've ever seen to see what man was the owner, and by god do you wish you werent so bad around men. I mean the wind practically got knocked out of your lungs as you let out a barely audible squeak watching this man fish in his pockets for his wallet

Messy blonde hair that was in that weird phase of curly but not really, a nose that looks like its seen a good fight, deep set brown eyes, and a few healed scars settled on the skin. Aged but like wine, a really really fine wine

"Right, cash" His hands fiddling through the wallet to pull out the bank notes, while you prayed you didnt look like a hunger dog staring at his hands as they placed the cash on the counter.

Simon who watches the little bookshop employee look like she just got punched in the gut and was trying not groan as she quickly rang him up, Do i smell? he thinks to himself

Simon who watches your smaller hands shuffle the cash into the register, noting how they're free of calluses, nailed neat and slightly grown, soft.

Simon who leaves the bookstore thinking of a excuse to go again tomorrow, not to see the bookshop girl or anything, he has his reasons!! he just hasn't thought of it yet!!

You start looking up from your notes for your class when the shop bell jingles hoping to see the mystery man whos built exactly like your favorite webcomic character but with the gruff and mature aura of that mc from the game your friend made you play that you cant quite remember. Only disappointed when its just another customer , until later in the day the man returns again.

But its much later in the day and you've switched on the shops warm lights, turning off the ac letting the place warm up as you hear the door jingle again, mystery man making his way to the counter your eyes following his every step, meaty thighs

You who perks up when his forearms settle at the counter suddenly eyes locking onto yours and suddenly very glad you tidied up a bit today, tinted chapstick, perfume, cleaner turtle neck, lashes, lipgloss, earrings ahm

"Tesco" he grumbles out unmoving

"what" well thats not what you were expecting to hear

"You were the girl , couldnt reach the flour yeah?" oh that was him

"Oh, that was you? thank you?" oh what the fuck were you supposed to say?? oh thank you freakishly tall man who watched me struggle?? let me take your whole cock in my mouth while you call me a good pet feeding your meaty length down my throat??

"Yeah" Simon didnt think to much on what to do now, gaze getting awkward now that hes got his confirmation

"Did you need anything" you finally broke the silence, god its fuckin tense in here and hes so close, you wanna just get a sniff but thats hardly workplace behavior doesn't matter if its your dads shop or not.

"Mhm, ye got any cook books?"

"yeah, section 12, shelf 9" whos he cooking for? his wife? i dont see a ring? maybe a long time girlfriend?? who wouldnt snatch up this actual beefcake

"Thanks, tryna cook something new for myself. Flats been quiet" He mumbled like speaking too much would give him a headache

SImon purchased his books same stare at the girls hand like last time as she took his money. God do something you look like a creep staring at this poor girls hands.

"Got a notepad luv?" again that same punched face returned, is she alright? he thought to himself

Oh he just called me luv oh fuck dont wheeze dont wheeze just hand him the pen and paper like a good employee, come on. Oh god dont stare at his arms, are those tattoos oh my god

Sliding back the notepad simon made pace of grabbing his cook book a slipping out the shop just as quick as he went in

You who looked at the notepad almost slipping back out of your chair

"Simon 44 xxx xxx xxx"

Children were singing, the angels sang their songs, the trees regrew in that parking lot down the street, healthcare in america was just made free, and you just got the phone number of a man built like a double door fridge that you have every intention of climbing

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #mw2022 #ghost call of duty #sorry i just love civilian reader x ghost #reader def has a tumblr acc #reader most likely survived middle school with a undertale phase #reader is literally just as fictional man hungry as us

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neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

can you handle it?

title: can you handle it?

pairing: suh johnny x jeong jaehyun x lee jeno x na jaemin x fem!oc/reader (no name, written in third person)

genre: smut, pwp, best friends!au

summary: Johnny drags her wildest fantasies out of her mouth, or to be more precise, out of her phone. But can she handle it?

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fivesome, masturbation (f), oral sex (f&m), sex toys, (heavy) degradation, praises, dirty talk, orgasm denial/control, blindfold, anal (f), spit roasting, double penetration, blackmail (it’s a roleplay that starts halfway through, so no, she’s not really being blackmailed, 100% consensual), size kink, free use (kinda?? it’s more like a mentioned fantasy), squirting, fingers sucking, spitting, size kink, bulge kink, overstimulation, dacryphilia, dumbification, aftercare, mentions of breeding kink, (hard) dom johnny, dom Jaehyun, (hard) dom jeno, dom jaemin, sub!oc/reader | lmk if i missed something

word count: 12.400k

a/n: a gift for the 1k followers (thank you again, ily♡) because if I’m going to hell you’re coming with me. another adventure of them (you don’t have to read it to understand this)

“Aren’t we a bit too early?” Jaemin asked, taking a look at his watch seeing they arrived at her place three hours before their date. They had decided on a movie night together, nothing crazy to spend some time together on an early September night.

“We’ve spent all our lives being at each other’s houses when we weren’t supposed to, I’m sure she won’t mind,” Jaehyun replied, holding the bag of alcohol in his hand tighter.

“If she answered maybe,” Jeno huffed and then rang her bell for the third time.

“Jesus, I’m coming.” They heard screaming. “You could’ve left my pack — You?” She stopped when she opened the door and saw her friends standing in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t act as if you didn’t know we were coming,” Johnny said, lifting his hands with the bags full of food.

“Yes, but you weren’t supposed to be here so soon,” she chuckled awkwardly, trying to fix herself, and diverting her gaze from Johnny’s that was a little suspicious of how flustered she looked.

He knew that look on her face but shrugged it off.

“Yeah, can we come in?” Jeno urged her. “We were bored at home. You don’t mind spending more time with us, right?”

“No, of course,” she replied, moving to the side, pushing her grey sweatpants up and pulling down the camisole that was rolled up halfway on her stomach. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”

“I told them it was too early,” Jaemin said, leaning in to leave a peck on her cheeks before walking to the kitchen to leave what they bought.

“I don’t have anything ready,” she said, watching as they moved around her place as if that was their own, leaving their shoes and jackets at the door, opening drawers, and placing the alcohol in the fridge.

“Great, should we get started and do it together?” Jeno proposed. “What even did you want to do? A cake?”

“So… you’re staying, staying?” She asked, biting a hangnail of her thumb.

“What, babe? Were you having fun without us?” Johnny asked, raising a brow and smirking at her, making her look away.

“No,” she said, walking toward the kitchen while scratching her neck nervously. “I was so bored I was hoping you were going to come so soon.”

“You didn’t answer me, by the way,” Jeno said, not paying attention to their weird exchange of lines and jumping on the countertop, shrugging when she glared at him, intimating him to jump off.

“I wanted to make muffins but it was a special recipe, I don’t remember it.”

“Well, is it in one of those books?” Jaehyun asked pointing at the culinary books behind Jeno.

“Nope, I saw it on Instagram, I guess. I think I saved it,” she said. “No, yeah, I did, I also sent it in the group chat. I just need to get my phone and,” she stopped, furrowing when touching her thighs she realized her pockets were empty. “Where’s my phone?”

“Want us to call you”? Jaemin proposed with his phone already in hand.

“No, it’s on silent, I think,” she huffed, throwing her head back. Freaking habit of never turning the sound on. “Can you help me search for it? It must be here somehow.”

“Sure, maybe you placed it next to the door when you opened it,” Jaehyun said as they all started walking outside to look for it.

But Johnny had a mere idea of where it could’ve been, so he walked upstairs, made way into her room and called it anyway.

And there it was, a buzzing sound coming from behind a pile of messy blankets and… what…

“God, I can’t believe her…” he whispered with a smirk on his face while he lifted the other object up. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“Where the hell it is,” she cried curled up against the couch with her fingers tangled in her hair.

“If you stay there it surely won’t pop out of nowhere,” Jeno said.

“No need to cry, I’m your saviour,” Johnny cooed, coming downstairs, and shaking the phone in his right hand while his other hand was hidden behind his back.

“You found it!” She exclaimed enthusiastically, jumping from her spot and walking toward him. “Where the hell was it?” She asked, trying to grab it but Johnny lifted it enough that she couldn’t get it, making her quirk a brow.

“Johnny, my phone,” she insisted, the palm of her hand out, patiently waiting for him to give it back to her, not understating why he was acting like that.

“Yeah,” he hummed, “don’t you want to know where I found it?” He smirked and her eyes widened at the realization.

An awkward giggle escaped her lips while she scratched her neck nervously. “You didn’t unlock it, right?

“You don’t even have a password,” he replied. “But no, I didn’t. Wait, is the funny still on?” He teased, a mocking smirk on his face that made her knit her eyebrow.

“You rang the bell out of nowhere, I tough it was the delivery guy with my box.”

Johnny smirked again, moving his hand from his back, “a box full of these?” He asked, shaking the vibrator, making the others gasp.

“Johnny, for fuck sake!” She screamed, trying to snatch it from his hand but Johnny was too tall and too strong compared to her so there was no way she could reach it. “Stop touching it! I didn’t even clean it.”

“Pft, I was inside you, this doesn’t faze me.”

At his words she lowered her head, fingers massaging her temples, cursing lowly as she felt the others reach closer.

“Damn, it’s also a clit sucker,” Jaemin pointed out, turning it around inside his hands. “If you want somebody to eat you out I volunteer.”

“Just shut up, Nana,” she cursed. “And you, give me my phone back!”

“But I’m curious to know what you were watching...” Johnny cooed, giving her doe eyes.

“I wasn’t watching,” she said, once again trying to take her phone back with no success.

“Maybe she was filming,” Jeno teased, laughing lightly at her flustered face.

“I wasn’t filming,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Then what were you doing? Don’t tell me you can actually get off reading what are those called? Ah yeah, smut books,” Jaehyun said with a frown of disgust on his face.

“No, it wasn’t even that,” she snapped, throwing her head back.

“Then what?” Jaemin asked, raising a brow.

“Johnny, no!” She screamed but it was too late, his thumb slid on her screen, and the page popped up.

She gulped, silently watching his lips curl in a smirk before he chuckled.

“Audio porn? Seriously?”

“Mind your business,” she replied through gritted teeth, glaring at him.

“Should we get comfortable on the sofa?” Jeno proposed, placing a hand on her back.

“Nobody is getting comfortable nowhere,” she snapped. “I don’t judge you for the things you do, or watch or whatever”

“Who said we were judging? We told you, we can make you happy,” Jaehyun said, trying to calm her down.

“You will judge me if you see what I’m into,” she whispered.

They looked at each other for a quick second, all thinking the same thing: how terrible were the things she got off to?

But the first one to talk was Jeno, “Let’s make an oath then, we won’t.”

“You trusted us once, can’t you do it twice?” Jaemin asked, batting his eyes at her, making her huff and turn his face away with a playful push of her hand.

“Fine,” she gave up and Jeno didn’t waste a second lifting her up to carry her to the couch.

“What’s with your thing of lifting me up as if I’m nothing? She asked and Jeno laughed.

“I would never want my princess to tire herself,” he pouted, and she rolled her eyes, thumb trapped in her teeth when Johnny sat in front of her and started looking through her phone without saying a word.

This was a terrible idea, wasn’t it?

“Why are you making those faces? Come on tell us what’s going on there,” Jaehyun said when Johnny kept giggling but didn’t say a thing.

“Well, umh, a ton of degradation... I’m surprised. Weren’t you the one that always cried as soon as someone raised their voice at you?”

She whined loudly. “It’s the way they do it,” she cried, hiding her face behind the palms of her hands.

“Oh, should we listen to them?” Jeno asked, a teasing smirk curling his lips. “So we can learn how you like it.”

She shook her head, and mumbled, “the — the way you did it last time... I liked it.”

“Yeah, considering the number of audios with that tag, you love it,” Johnny sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s —”

“Girl, free use? Really? You’re so gross,” he mocked, lifting his gaze to meet her eyes.

She was about to remind him of the pact before but from the way his voice dropped low and his eyes were staring at her with his lips curled in a smirk, she knew that he wasn’t mocking. He was teasing because he knew that had an effect on her and, in fact, it did. Her thighs clenched together and she could feel the room get hotter. Why the hell Johnny had such a hold on her?

“Oh,” the others whispered, getting their silent game without a word.

“And free use in a... gangbang. Too many men, I don’t think you can take it,” he said, shaking his head.

“You know I can. I proved it to you.”

“The numbers on this disgusting audios you get off to are a bit too high for you fragile, little body.”

Bingo. Another one. Johnny smirked when she squirmed more in her seat.

“Imagine yourself surrounded,” he whispered, voice getting lower. “These big, tall men all over you with their big cocks ready to fuck you. And you? What would you do?” He asked, locking the phone for a second to walk toward her. His big body towering over hers as he lifted her chin up and pinched it. “You’d love it because you are disgusting. Because that shit turns you on.”

She didn’t say a word. She didn’t even want to fight back because Johnny slipped into her fantasies so well that she couldn’t break the magic and the anticipation she was feeling.

“And you really told us that being filmed is the wildest thing that turns you on,” Jeno chuckled.

“Maybe she wants to be filmed so even more men can see her,” Jaemin teased, his breath fanning against the skin of her neck while Jeno’s fingers grazed her right thigh. “Isn’t it? The idea of them jacking off to you, not sleeping at night because you are the only one filling their brain. Making them go insane,” he whispered before his lips met her neck and started kissing it, a low moan slipped past her lips, head thrown back and wetness pooling between her legs.

“Yeah, isn’t what you did with us this summer? You loved knowing you had so much power over us.” This time it was Jaehyun talking, and slightly opening her eyes, she could see him stand tall next to Johnny.

“Not answering?” Johnny asked. “Fine, if you want to do it like this. Get up,” he ordered and smirked when she didn’t waste a second to stand on her feet. “Get undressed while I see what else gets you off.”

“I don’t think —” she tried to stop him but was stopped instead.

“Yeah, don’t think. Don’t talk. Don’t say a word. Follow my orders,” he ordered and she hummed. I think you like this, what’s with this title? You’re my object. My possession. My fucktoy. Seriously?”

“Do you really get off to that?” Jeno teased, laughing mockingly at her that was now standing naked, surrounded by them fully clothed.

“Of course, she does, I bet she’s dripping already.” The phone slipped into Johnny’s pocket again, she moved a hand to stop him and take it back but he blocked her and clicked his tongue. “Nah, ah, baby. The phone is my possession, you were caught with your hands in the cookie jar and now we have to teach you some things,” he said, letting go of her hand. “Since you enjoy this so much, let me ask just one time... Would you want to be our free use fucktoy?”

They chuckled when in a second she answered ‘yes’ but she didn’t mind.

“Great. But since I think this might be more intense than last time, let’s set some ground rules,” he said, looking at all of them. “I want to hear ‘red’ if anything gets too much for you, alright, baby? Even though you’re so pathetic that nothing will be too much for you,” he finished with a low laugh, looking into her eyes and she could feel her knees buckle before he moved his attention away from her.

With a wink of an eye, Johnny signaled Jaehyun to lift her back on the couch, making her sit where she was before.

“Since you like to show off so much shouldn’t you do that?” Jeno teased, moving the other chair in front of her so he could see her perfectly. “You should show us how you touch yourself while those things play in the background. Come on.”

She gulped, shyly opening her legs, revealing how wet she was.

“Spread it,” Jaehyun ordered. “Make it drip down.”

“No — no, I,” she tried to retort but their stern gazes shut her up while her hands moved to part her lips, eyes falling shut when she felt a gush slide down.

“See. You can’t pretend you don’t like this. You are disgusting,” Jeno mocked. “And now fuck yourself with those fingers.”

A moan slipped out of her lips when she slipped a finger inside her, feeling a bit of relief from the tension, her head rolled behind as the pleasure slowly intensified. She could hear the low curses coming from their mouths, and the rustling of their pants against their seats as they tried to find a bit of comfort for the boners inside their pants.

“Stop playing.” Johnny’s groan made her jolt, head snapping up, looking at him with a furrow.

“I — I’m not playing,” she replied with a shaky voice, heat washing over her body as she kept moving her finger inside because she couldn’t stop.

“Yes, you are,” he said, laying back against the armchair, legs spreading open and her eyes couldn’t help but fall there, between his legs, the outline of his hard cock too visible to don’t make her look at it with heart-eyes.

“If you want this so bad,” he said with a chuckle, sitting forward to cover his dick, “fuck yourself like you always do. Come on, you can do much better than one finger and your other hand nowhere to be seen.”

She nodded, spreading her legs more and pushing another finger inside, an higher moan slipped out of her mouth while her hand shyly found the courage to move on her body, making them smile as they finally got what they wanted. And her hands kept moving, cupping her boobs and massaging them, eliciting more moans out of her.

“Fuck,” she cried when she curled her fingers inside right where she wanted and pinched her nipple.

“Bet you’re thinking about the audio of before, aren’t you?” Jeno joked, he didn’t even know what the hell she was listening to but he couldn’t care. All it mattered right now was her, totally exposed to their eyes, fucking herself so well he couldn’t keep his dick inside his pants anymore.

She shook her head, lower lip trapped inside her teeth as she felt her stomach tighten when she started pressing her palm against her clit and grinding her hips against it. “Thinking — uhm — about you,” she confessed, eyes opening to make contact with them, drifting on all of them to see them half naked now. A smirk curled her lips, happy she could finally see their bodies again.

“Keep fucking yourself,” Johnny groaned. “It won’t be that easy to have us.”

She whined but kept moving her fingers, adding another one.

“Since you’re not thinking about those gross stuff, I want to see more,” Johnny said, unlocking her phone again, and at that point, she didn’t even care. The worse had passed, right? No, probably no.

“Orgasm countdown?” Johnny asked, quirking a brow, making Jaemin lean over to see with a smile on his face, not a mocking smirk, just an entertained smile.

“Do they tell you when to come?” Jaemin asked. “Do you listen to the orders that men you don’t even know give you?”

She nodded, eyes squeezing shut when she felt the orgasm so close.

“Well, if you listen to men you don’t know you will listen to us, right?” Johnny said and she hummed, not even registering his words.

“Stop,” he ordered.

“What?” She asked, shocked, looking at him, but still not stopping moving her fingers. They had already ruined the orgasm she was trying to reach before by showing up out of the blue. She just wanted to come.

“I said, stop. Fucking. Yourself,” he groaned, standing up, and only then she stopped moving her fingers.

“Johnny, no, it’s not —”

“Shut up,” he mumbled while he kissed her roughly.

“I think you can use something else to have fun with,” Jaehyun said, the couch at her right hollowing when his knee pushed down the seat and he twirled the vibrator in his hand.

“You — you want me to use that?”

“Please,” Jeno huffed, coming at her left, “that’s probably your best friend,” he laughed. “Does it have a little bit of battery left? I think not.”

“It surely does,” Jaemin said, pushing Johnny away and kneeling in front of her. “You always make sure it’s fully charged, right?”

She hummed, nodding shyly, looking down at him between her legs.

Jaemin smiled, his hands wrapped around her thighs and pushed them further apart, nails digging into her skin. “Will you be a good girl and keep your little toy on your clit?” He asked, and she nodded, shaky hands grabbing it from Jaehyun’s hands. “Good, and Nana will go down on you while you keep taking care of yourself, alright?”

“Yes, mmh,” she whined when he lapped at her wetness.

“Fuck, I knew you tasted so fucking good,” he hummed against her. “Come on, turn it on.”

“Can you do it or do we have to do it for you?” Jeno asked when she hesitated to turn it on.

“I — I can,” she whispered.

“Then do it,” Johnny urged.

When the buzzing sound filled the room, Jaemin started licking and pushing his tongue in and out of her dripping cunt, dragging whimpers out of her lips.

“Is it the highest it can go?” Jaehyun asked, lips moving on her neck, leaving kisses and bites.

“No — no, it can go, it can — fuck — higher,” she replied, feeling the orgasm that had been killed before starting up again.

“Then turn it to the fullest.”

“No, it — it will make me come.”

“No, no orgasm for fucktoys,” Johnny said sternly.

“No, please,” she whined louder when Jeno pushed the button and raised the vibrations. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Jaemin mumbled against her. “You’re doing so good.”

More senseless begs came out of her mouth but they were unbothered as their lips were busy kissing other parts of her body, not even leaving a single inch uncovered.

Jaemin hands were firmly wrapped around her thighs, keeping them apart, caressing the skin ever so often to soothe her and calm her down. But she was struggling to hold her orgasm in when Jaemin was sucking and licking so passionately, his hums muffled against her wetness were literally making her go crazy.

“You love it so much,” Jaehyun whispered against her neck, lips sucking and teeth nibbling her skin. “And he loves eating your pussy so much. Are you that good, baby? Do you drive everybody crazy with your sweet little pussy?”

“I don’t know,” Jaemin mumbled before pulling away, “about the others but, fuck, she’s definitely driving me crazy,” he said, before he leaned down again, this time pushing two fingers inside, making her hips jolt against him in surprise.

“You’re so sensitive,” Jeno laughed, starting to move the vibrator, stimulating her even more while his other hand cupped her right boob, massaging the skin and pinching the nipple. “Are you gonna come in his mouth?”

She nodded, mind hazy, and mouth already dry. But Johnny had other plans, lost between the sight of them teasing her and stimulating her he didn’t stop scrolling through her phone.

“Guys, stop.” She was brought back to earth when Johnny stopped them. “There’s an interesting amount of face-fucking.”

“It’s not so much,” she replied, whining.

“But even one it’s enough,” he said. “And spitting, too… So, you are into it?”

She avoided his gaze, trying to close her legs but Jaemin blocked them open. “I — I wasn’t before Jeno did it,” she confessed.

Jeno smirked beside her, a low chuckle rolling out of his lips before his fingers turned her face toward him. “Really, baby? It’s also my fault that you’re so dirty?”

She was about to reply but he shushed her, fingers placing on her lips.

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, you do look pretty looking like a mess, so maybe we should get started,” he said, caressing her lips with his thumb. “Get you all messy while you suck our cocks and then later give you what you want.”

“Come here,” Jaemin said, getting up from between her legs. “Repay the favour back?”

“You don’t know how to facefuck her,” Jeno complained.

“The hell do you know about that?” The younger replied, pushing him off while he waited for her to get on her knees.

“She wants it hard and you’re too nice for her.”

“Fuck off,” he simply replied before grabbing his hard throbbing cock and pushing it against her lips. “She likes it the way I give it to her. Right, baby?” He hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and when she nodded, he smirked.

“Fuck, yeah,” Jaemin moaned when he pushed in her open mouth and her eyes looked up at him. Her jaw went slack as she let him thrust into her mouth.

Jeno wanted to complain again about how it wasn’t hard enough but Johnny’s glare at him shut him up.

“Oh, shit, baby,” Jaemin moaned, throwing his head back as his hips started moving faster, making her gag ever so often. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

The praise made her shift in her place, but made her work harder, meeting him halfway through.

“Is it too big for you?” He cooed, lower lip pouting out as he stared at her watery eyes. “Noo?” He sang when she shook her head and moved against him. “Keep bobbing your head on my big cock, come on.”

“You need to fuck her harder,” Jeno muttered under his breath, making her eyes shift on him for a second before she brought them up on Jaemin that wasn’t looking at her.

“You need to mind your business,” he lashed out before looking at her again, tone turning sweet again. “Do you wanna gag on my cock, baby?”

She hummed, ass wiggling in excitement, eliciting an ‘I told you,’ from Jeno.

“Take a deep breath, then,” Jaemin said, pulling out of her and giving her time to breathe again. “And now take it all, deeper and harder, because you love — fuck — my cock so much. Gag on my cock like a good girl.”

It wasn’t like she had many choices when his dick was reaching the back of her throat, she had a quite good gag reflex but it still made her gag around him, spit starting to drool down her chin as the blowjob got messier.

“Can you hold me in? Fuck,” he moaned, his fingers reaching the back of her hair and tangling in her hair. “Hold my cock right there and then — shit — I pull out and only then you’ll breathe.”

She gasped when he pulled out after pressing it all the way down her throat.

“One more time, baby. You’re so good — fuck — your mouth’s gonna make me come,” he groaned, once again slipping completely into her mouth, her throat closing around his tip was the last drop he needed to come, cum filling her mouth, giving her no chance but to swallow. “Fuck, so good, so good,” he moaned before pulling out, watching her gag, and try to don’t make a mess while she coughed and spurted out some cum and spit.

“Look at you,” Johnny cooed, wiping the spit that rolled on her chin but instead of cleaning it, he let it drip down on her boobs, “such a messy, dirty little girl, aren’t you?”

She nodded mindlessly, pushing up, trying to kiss him but he smirked, pulling away.

“I found out another interesting thing about you.”

“Another?” Jaehyun whispered, what the fuck was she hiding?

Johnny snickered, “No, this one it’s not that bad. It’s cute, actually.”

“What? One audio with vanilla sex that probably ended up there by mistake?” Jeno mocked, chuckling lowly.

Johnny shook his head, pushing the hair that stuck to her forehead back and leaving a kiss on her forehead that made her squirm under him. “Our baby wants to be praised, doesn’t she?”

“Praised?” Jaehyun asked. “Didn’t you want to be degraded two seconds ago?”

“I — is it weird that — fuck,” the words got stuck in her mouth when the vibrator started buzzing against her clit again, she didn’t even register that Johnny had kneeled down so he could press it right where she needed the most, too focused on the others.

“What’s weird, baby?” He cooed, urging her to keep going.

She cried, head falling forward, thighs clasping together but it wasn’t enough to dim the sensation of the vibrations and the sucking on her clit. “That both turn — turn me — fuck — turn me on.”

They chuckled but shook their heads.

“Not the weirdest shit that turns you on,” Jeno said.

“But to be praised you need to be good, princess,” Jaemin teased, and she didn’t bother lifting her gaze and looking at him, trying to fight back the orgasm while the toy was working on her at such high speed was the only thing she could focus at the moment.

“I think she has been good,” Jaehyun pointed out, smiling at the way her body was twitching under Johnny, but she didn’t move at all to pull away or stop the torture in any way. She had always been too headstrong when she had to prove a point.

“What do you say, Jeno? Should we let her come?” Johnny asked, raising the vibrations higher, making her head snap up, watery eyes looking up at him, begging him to say yes.

Jeno smirked, he was tempted to say ‘no’ and see how much she could last but didn’t. “She was good. Let her come.”

Her body slumped against Johnny in relief, and the older laughed. “You heard him, come.” And she let go, body relaxing while her muscles finally let go of all the pent-up tension, she started shaking in Johnny’s arms and only stopped when the climax passed.

“Why are you — mhh — why are you looking at me like that?” She asked when her eyes moved up and she met Johnny’s mocking face.

“You said you could take more than us and you’re already wrecked,” he pointed out. “We didn’t even start and I’m sure there’s so much more that turns you on.”

“I can, I’m not tired,” she replied, daring eyes looking into his.

“Let’s see,” Jeno said, standing up to scoop her up from the floor and place her on the couch again. “Didn’t she have a thing for… what was that?”

“Free use?” Johnny continued, tilting his head.

“Yeah. Maybe we should leave you here, bent over,” he said, pushing her chest against the backrest and parting her legs on the seats, “blindfolded,” he whispered, “and each of us will fuck you in every hole and you will have no idea who’s doing what. Do you like that?”

She should’ve hesitated, at least to pretend she had a bit of dignity left, but nothing but “Yes, please, just… use me,” passed through her mind and slid right out of her mouth like a plea.

“Is that what you want, bunny?” Jaemin asked, walking around the couch to come in front of her.

“Yes, please. Fuck me dumb,” she begged, looking up at him before turning around to look at the others.

Before she could beg another time, she felt them all over her. Jaemin was busy kissing her, intensely but rather slowly, taking his time. While she could feel Jaehyun and Jeno’s fingers brush against the skin of her back, causing shivers to run down her spine.

She gasped in Jaemin’s mouth when Jeno pushed two fingers inside her pussy, the cold steel of his rings making her squirm more under his touch.

“Mhh, fuck,” she moaned when Jaehyun moved a hand under her, his fingers making circles on her already sensitive clit.

And she wouldn’t have minded if they kept going like this, but, in the blink of an eye, Johnny was downstairs again — not that she ever saw him leaving in the first place.

“I saw you were well equipped with the lube,” he teased, throwing the bottle to Jaehyun, but she could barely turn around because Jaemin forced her head forward, still nibbling at her lips and whispering teasing words. “And for the blindfold… I guess this bandana will do,” he said, lifting up one of her bandanas, red and silky. “I hope we won’t ruin it, it seems… rather good.”

She hummed mindlessly, watching as Jaemin took a step to the side to let Johnny come in front of her. She looked up, meeting his eyes one last time before her vision went blank.

He gently placed the fabric around her head, covering her eyes before his fingers moved skillfully to close it around the back of her head, tight enough to make it stay in place but not too much to hurt her.

“Is it good, baby?” He asked, brushing her lips and then pinching her chin.

“Yeah, ‘s good.”

“Great,” Johnny cooed.

“Fuck, who’s — umh — who’s that?” She moaned in a choked voice when a finger slipped past her asshole.

“What, baby?” Jaehyun cooed. “You loved that last time.”

“Yeah, I — ummh — I wasn’t expecting that,” she mumbled, breath getting heavier as both he and Jeno started thrusting faster.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that if I scroll through your favorites again it will be full of anal, am I right?” Johnny mocked. Well, he did scroll through more of it, and he knew that was true, just like plenty of other things he planned of doing that night. She couldn’t see but from his voice, she got that he was still standing in front of her. “I said, am I right?” He talked again, slapping her cheek with his cock, surprising her.

“Yes — yes,” she replied.

“You looked terrified when I proposed to you,” Jaemin chuckled. “We really have a bad influence on you,” he cooed, pushing his thumb inside her mouth. “Your mother was right.”

“Bet your mom still thinks you’re her innocent, little daughter,” Jeno teased, inserting the third finger inside her cunt, chuckling at the way she was dripping down the couch.

“Maybe we should show her your internet history,” Johnny said.

“No,” she screamed.

“No?” He cooed, “Why? Will she be ashamed of you? Stop talking to you because she hates knowing you get off such disgusting things? Degradation? Free use? Blackmail? Spitting? How nasty, baby, so fucking nasty.”

She nodded, head falling against the couch because she felt the old familiar sensation build up again.

“What if our other friends find out?” Jaemin teased, wetting his lips as he stared at her body reacting to his words.

“N-no, you can’t tell ‘em,” she breathed out, but her words contradicted the way her body trembled and a rush made her skin burn up.

“You don’t want them to know?” Johnny asked. “You don’t want rumors to run around town fast about you? Think about it… you might have your dream come true.”

“No, no. I — I — fuck — I don’t want them to — shit — know.”

“Then do exactly what we order and then, if you can satisfy us, no words will slip out of our mouths,” Johnny whispered, his deep voice hitting right against her earbud making her shiver and the fantasy of being blackmailed turned her more than she wanted to admit. More cum dripped down as she clenched hard around Jaehyun and Jeno’s fingers.

“Mouth open,” he ordered, and she followed, lips falling open and tongue sticking out.

The flow of air in her lungs immediately dimed down when he pushed in completely, his tip reaching the back of her throat before he pushed all the way out.

But she wanted more, she couldn’t stand feeling just fingers and she couldn’t let them know in any way. So she pushed back, wiggling her ass, trying to make them understand but it wasn’t like they didn’t know… they wanted to see, to hear her beg, to watch her break.

“Please,” she coughed when Johnny pulled out, “fuck me.”

“You’re not in the position to commend,” Jeno replied, one hand cupping her ass cheek and squeezing tight.

“But if you don’t want to fuck her, I can do it instead,” Jaemin said, urging at least one of them to do something because teasing her meant to tease each other just as much.

“You already had her mouth,” Jeno huffed, pulling out, cleaning his cum stained fingers on her inner thigh. “I’m sure you can wait.”

“You can wait too,” Jaehyun replied, pushing Jeno to the side. “Need to fuck her first.”

“Wait, why?” Jeno asked annoyed, glaring at him.

“I was here first, and you had her for so long last time,” Jaehyun groaned, pouring more lube on his hard cock, pumping up and down before he pushed his tip against her hole.

“Oh, honey,” Johnny cooed, caressing her cheek but never stopping moving in and out of her mouth, “you’re making them fight over you. Yeah, you love that, don’t you? That they can’t wait to be inside of you and ruin you.”

She tried to nod, but he didn’t need it to know that she loved it, the way her eyes fluttered close was enough.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun moaned when he bottomed out, feeling how tight her ass still was, no matter how much he had stretched her.

“Breathe,” Johnny ordered, pulling out of her, spit rolling down her chin as her nails dug into the couch.

“Fuck, Jae,” she moaned, back arching, torn between wanting more and already feeling like it was too much.

“What, baby? You already had me don’t — fuck — be so shocked,” he replied, groaning, hands wrapping around her waist tighter as he pulled her against him with more force.

“N-no, it’s good,” she replied before her mouth fell open again, blindly searching for Johnny’s cock again.

Jaemin laughed, “Somebody’s eager. Want to suck him?”

She nodded, tongue still out and the sight would’ve been enough to make them come, but they both groaned before Johnny pushed into her warm mouth again.

“Since you’re — fuck — so eager, take it all,” he groaned, fingers wrapping around her hair to hold her head still. “That’s what you want. That’s all you need — fuck. Want them to touch you, too?” He asked and she barely managed to nod. And her eyes, hiding behind the red fabric, rolled in the back of her head when Jeno and Jaemin’s hands started roaming on her body, touching and teasing her everywhere.

“Bet you would want even more, isn’t it right?” Jeno teased while his fingers pinched her nipple, making her let out a broken moan around Johnny’s girth. “Maybe we should spread the news around and let more people pass you around.”

“Would you want that, baby?” Jaemin’s gentle tone teased. “Would you let them?”

She shook her head, body squirming more as she felt another orgasm build up.

“No? Are you all ours?” He asked, hand creeping down to play with her clit.

“Yes, fuck, yours,” she spluttered when Johnny pulled out, making her gasp for air.

“Remember you have to prove it to us,” Johnny said, voice deep and stern. “Unless you don’t want all of our friends to know about your little secrets… we might not let them fuck you,” he whispered against her ear, “but we might fuck you while they watch you.” He chuckled when she shivered and a louder moan rolled out of her lips. “Yeah, you’d love that, don’t you?”

“I bet a few of them would be boiling in anger, eager to get their hands on you,” Jeno added. “And yet, you picked your favorites and it’s not them, what a shame. They can only watch while we get to ruin you.”

She wanted to hold it in, she thought she could hold it in but when those words rolled out of his mouth, she lost it. Slumping forward her legs trembled hard, and the orgasm shook her from head to toe.

“I’m sorry. I — fuck — I didn’t mean to,” she cried, still shaking from overstimulation because Jaehyun was still buried deep into her, and Jaemin’s fingers were moving on her clit.

“You can come as much as you want,” Johnny said. “All you need to do is take us, so if you tire yourself so much, well, that’s your problem. Remember, you don’t want your mother to know about the filthy things you listen to.”

“No, no, I can — fuck — take it,” she mumbled.

“Good, then take us,” he groaned, thrusting into her mouth again.

And her mind went blank again as they started fucking her at the same time. Jaehyun’s hands were tightly wrapped around her waist as he pounded from behind, strokes hard and deep, leaving her trembling under his firm hold. Johnny’s hand was holding her head up, moving her exactly how he wanted, balls slapping against her chin as he pushed down her throat, leaving no space for hair to pass through. She could only recognize Jaemin and Jeno’s hands because of the metal on Jeno’s fingers, but the way both pairs were teasing her body made her mind get even emptier.

“It’s like you were made for us,” Jaehyun groaned, eyes fixed where their bodies met, watching her tight hole suck his cock in with every thrust. “Your tight ass is begging for more. Wonder if you could take two at the same time.”

A muffled whimper resonated around Johnny’s length at the idea of being fucked even more by them at an inhumane stretch.

“Yes, fuck,” Johnny moaned, feeling his orgasm build up. “Is this what turns you on?” He hummed, balls slamming harder against her chin. “Being passed around and filled with cum. You love being — fuck — left all dripping, our cum rolling down your thighs, — fuck — sticking to your skin?”

She mumbled around his length and Jaehyun could feel her squeeze harder around his cock.

“You’re so fucking disgusting,” Jaehyun mocked, slapping her ass. “Dreaming about so many men fucking you, filling you up. Fuck,” he groaned when she came again with no warning. “I’m gonna fill you up, do you want that?” He asked as if he didn’t know the answer. “Of course, you want — shit — you need it.”

And soon after they both came inside of her, filling her from both sides, groans, and moans mixing with the disgusting, lewd sounds of their cum squelching out of her.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun whispered, leaning down to kiss her should. “You’re always so good.”

“Come here,” Jeno said, wrapping a hand around her waist when the other two pulled back, and moved her around, letting her rest against the couch. “Need to try a new position,” he cooed, dragging her so her head was dangling out from the armrest of the couch.

“Mmph,” she moaned when Jaemin smeared her wetness on her skin before pushing a finger inside.

“Can’t wait to fuck you, baby,” he hummed, staring at the mess between her legs with a smug smile, her cum rolling down, mixing with Jaehyun’s that was slowly dripping out of her asshole.

“I need this out of the way,” Jeno said, taking the blindfold off, making her blink repeatedly as she adjusted to the light again, briefly noting how the sun was starting to go down, the only sign telling her how much time had passed since they started. “God, you’re so pretty even when you’re covered in cum,” he whispered before he kissed her roughly, one hand cupping her cheek and the other in her hair.

She moaned in the kiss when she felt Jaemin make his way inside of her wet cunt, fingers slipping out and cock stretching her, leaving her breathless for a few seconds.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned, before gripping the back of her knees and pushing her legs flat against her chest.

“Fuck, too deep,” she cried, lifting her head to look at him, a smug smirk on his face.

“You can take me, baby. You can be my good girl like you were before, right?” He cooed, leaning in to get closer to her face, kissing her gently.

“Ye-yes,” she replied, eyes blinking lazily as she relaxed against the soft seat underneath her.

“And you can take my cock, too, right?” Jeno brought her attention back to him, while Jaemin sat straight again and started thrusting faster. “I still don’t know what your mouth feels like.” The tip of his cock pushed against her lips and they parted immediately to welcome him in. The upside-down position was a bit uncomfortable but she didn’t dwell on it much because Jaemin was bringing her too much pleasure, and the discomfort was worth it when Jeno started to groan and moan louder.

“Fuck,” Jaemin moaned, head thrown back and mouth open. “Your pussy feels so good, baby. So much better than your pretty mouth.”

Her hands slapped against Jeno’s thighs, pushing him away.

“What? You know how to suck everybody’s dick but mine?” He asked, looking down at her, watching as she struggled to catch her breath.

“No, I — I can, I — I’m trying,” she mumbled.

Jeno rolled his eyes. “Think you can take it for real this time or will you disappoint again?”

“I won’t,” she mumbled, “I won’t disappoint, please.”

“Beg for it,” he ordered. “Beg for me to give you another chance with my cock.”

“Please — fuck — Jeno, please let me — mmph — let me suck you. I’ll do well, I’ll make you feel so good.”

“You better,” he said, pushing against her mouth again, sliding in. “After all the fucking praises they gave you, I expect you to be good at this.”

She hummed around him, trying to keep her focus on her breathing and stop her brain from forgetting even the bare minimum to don’t pass out. It wasn’t harder because of the position — well, maybe, a bit more — or because he was too big, but because her brain was too far gone.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” Jeno moaned, starting to move his hips back and forth.

“So pretty getting fucked like that,” Johnny commented, his hand on her body, massaging her breast.

“You’re so messy, baby,” Jaemin mocked, rubbing his hand on her clit, smearing the cum around, sticking to her skin. “Our messy pretty doll.”

“Are you gonna come again?” Johnny teased, staring at her body. “No?” He cooed when she shook her head — tried to shake her head. “Oh, doll, think I don’t know your body? Think I don’t know the way your back arches when you’re close? Or the way your nails dig in anything they can find because it’s too much for you? Think we don’t know you’re so pathetic that anything makes you come so easily?”

She mumbled around Jeno’s length, eyes squeezing tight and body heating up because it was embarrassing he could read her so easily just after the second time together. And it was humiliating that it took them nothing to make her come.

“As I thought,” Johnny mocked with a smug smirk that she couldn’t see. “Let me guess… if I just touch you here…” he whispered, fingers grazing her clit, “you’ll come again.”

And she did, the nth orgasm of the night ripped out of her, leaving her breathless, trying to gasp for air since Jeno pulled out of her to make her breathe. But this one was longer, exhaustingly longer, since Jaemin’s cock kept thrusting deep into her, and Johnny’s fingers moved fast on her clit and she came again. Squirting everywhere and unexpectedly, a stream of broken moans, cries and curses coming out of her lips as the orgasm almost knocked her out.

“Fuck, doll,” Jaemin groaned. “God, how much do you have?” He asked in surprise when it kept coming. “No, don’t shake, it’s alright, it’s okay, babydoll,” he cooed, dragging her closer to him, body resting completely against the couch seats now as he shielded her with his.

“Too much,” she cried, voice barely coming out and tears rolling down her face, her legs were limp and the only thing keeping them in position was Jaemin’s hand and his body pressing against it.

“Just a bit more,” he whispered, kissing her. “Be good and take my cum.”

Her head rolled back, lower lip tortured by her teeth as she tried to hold in the moans, her hands found the strength to lift up and wrapped around Jaemin’s back, pushing him closer.

“Need to feel you,” she cried as her fingers dangled in his hair. “Ki-kiss me, please, please.”

“Here,” he whispered, leaning down to meet her lips and trap them in a long kiss. Hips starting to falter as he felt closer.

The other three looked at them with a playful smirk on their faces. It was fun seeing her so broken and yet needy. And still, it wasn’t enough for her to make it stop.

“Nana, please,” she almost screamed, nails digging into the skin of his back as she felt once again over the edge.

“Yes, baby, I’m — fuck — here. Come with me?”

She nodded, wet eyes looking up at him and lips shaking, moans getting louder when his hands reached the small of her back and lifted her lower body up, pulling her closer to him, going deeper before he leaned down again, trapping her body under his. And that was enough to trigger her orgasm, walls squeezing so tight, Jaemin couldn’t hold it in either.

“Fuck, fuck,” he moaned, head falling in the crook of her neck, teeth sinking into her skin. “Perfect, fuck, you’re so good,” he praised, leaving one last kiss on her lips before he pulled out. An embarrassing amount of cum dripping out of her and falling on the couch.

She felt her head dizzy, ears buzzing and vision blurry, body limp as she laid there, trying to catch her breath and stop her legs from shaking when Jeno lifted her up again.

“Come here, baby,” he cooed, making her sit on his lap, her eyes widened when she felt his tip prod at her entrance.

“What — what are you doing?” She asked, voice raspy and sore, looking back at him with big wide wet eyes.

Jeno chuckled, “What am I doing? Really, baby? You disappointed me before, don’t you think so? You never pay attention to me,” he pouted, bobbing her nose, a sweet contrast to the way he was manhandling her on top of him

“I don’t — I can’t anymore,” she stuttered.

“No, shh, you can, remember? You don’t want your mom to find out how nasty you are. Imagine her face if she heard all those things you have on your phone,” he cooed, pushing her down on him, her head rolled back and a groan ripped past her throat. “That’s right, baby, just fall back into my arms,” he groaned, wrapping his hands around her waist and moving her up and down, “and moan for me. Want to hear those pretty sounds you make.”

And she would’ve done that if only her throat wasn’t completely sore.

“Open your mouth and lift your head.” Johnny’s voice made her come back to earth — well, partially, because she was too far gone, and her body was following their commands automatically. “Drink up, baby.”

“Is — is it water?”

“No, vodka,” he joked, pressing the glass against her lips, waiting for her to open up before he gently inclined it, the cold liquid rolled down her throat and she found a glimpse of relief. “Better?” He asked and she nodded.

Her head fell back as soon as Jeno started moving again. But it snapped up when she felt Johnny’s cock prod against her swollen cunt.

“Johnny, no,” she cried, biting her lips, feeling another orgasm build up. “Two is too much.”

He laughed, “I thought you were a big girl and you could take it,” he mocked, teasing her entrance, only pushing his fat tip inside, already making her toes curl. “Aren’t you?”

She mumbled something, nodding, shaking her head, or whatever…

“So, is it red?” He asked, tilting a brow, waiting for a stop sign, but that never came. She shook her head and when the words ‘no, it’s not,’ slipped past her lips, he pushed inside, bottoming into her. Her nails dug into the skin of his arms, and she hid her face in the crook of Jeno’s neck.

“Fuck, you two are — shit — too big,” she whimpered. “But — but I like it, fuck, I love it so much.”

“That’s it, good,” Johnny moaned, turning her face around and kissing her hard while they started to work together, finding the rhythm that worked the best. “We’ll keep fucking you until there’s nothing left but those filthy thoughts in your brain,” he groaned, hands slipping behind her knees and pushing her legs pressed against her chest. “Until your mind’s so empty that you’ll be nothing but — fuck — our little fuckdoll, how’s that sound?”

She didn’t answer, but if the hums and nods of agreement weren’t enough to show how much she loved it, the way her walls squeezed around them, was.

“You fucking love this, don’t you?” Jeno groaned, squeezing her boob, feeling her clench even more. “Want to be fucked senseless until not a single — fuck — ounce of responsibility and control weighs over you? Until your mind breaks?”

“Yeah, yeah, please,” she moaned before another orgasm washed over and drained all that was left of sanity out of her.

“You’re such a good girl.” She could faintly make out Jaemin’s voice praising her and then his lips kissing her neck while his hand grabbed hers and guided it on his cock, making her work him up and down. “Open your mouth,” he whispered, smiling when her lips parted more and he could easily slip two fingers inside. “Just suck and relax,” he ordered, eyes glistening as he watched her eyelids flutter close and her chest pant slower.

“Someone really loves sucking on things,” Jaehyun cooed, smirking at the scene in front of him. “Maybe you should keep your mouth full more often,” he proposed.

“Yeah, give you lollipops so you can — fuck — fulfil your needs with them when you don’t have our cocks,” Johnny groaned. “Hey, are you asleep?” He asked, lightly slapping her cheek, making her open her glossy eyes and shake her head.

They chuckled. “She’s just following your order of don’t think at all, right?” Jaehyun cooed while his hand travelled on her body. “Jesus, you’re so messy,” he whispered when he reached her clit, there was cum everywhere, and Johnny was pumping it in and out more, making it messier.

“Are you — fuck — gonna come again?” Jeno asked when he felt her inside twitch more and her body squirm against his.

She nodded, humming around Jaemin’s fingers, sucking at them with eagerness, and came again and again, she had no idea, the orgasm was so strong that she couldn’t describe the end of it.

“Johnny,” she mumbled, eyes snapping open when he pushed his hand against her tummy.

“Do you see it?” He asked, grabbing a fistful of her hair and forcing her head to look down. “See my cock moving in and out of you? See how big it is? How deep it fucks you? How you were made just for this?”

She moaned, gagging when Jaemin pushed his fingers deeper, and a river of spit drooled down her breasts before he pulled out, making her breathe.

“You fuck me — mmph — so good,” she cried, still looking down, quite amazed by the way she could see the outline of his cock. She would’ve stared longer if only Jeno didn’t push her back again against him, turning her face around and kissing her hard, his other hand gripping around her waist harder, leaving marks on her skin.

“Open your mouth,” Jeno ordered and she smiled, already knowing what was coming, stomach curling in anticipation. “Fuck, no hesitation this time,” he chuckled mockingly before spitting in her mouth. “Fucking pathetic.”

“Are you tired?” Johnny cooed, cupping her cheek, grinning when she nodded lazily. “We’re not done with you, babydoll.”

“Thought you could take it,” Jeno groaned against her neck, lifting her up more so he could slam into her faster. “What happened to being our free use toy? Don’t want that anymore?”

“No, no, I — I do, I — fuck — nggh,” she cried, head falling behind, no more strength on her neck to keep it up.

“You still do?” Jaehyun asked, and she nodded, more tears rolling down her face as the overstimulation was seriously getting too much but she didn’t want to stop. She needed them to come into her, fill her more.

“Of course,” Jeno moaned. “Want to go around dripping cum, being bent over any surface at any time, don’t you?”

She nodded, eyes fluttering open to meet Jaemin’s face, contorted in pleasure as he moved her hand on his cock faster.

“You want that?” Johnny cooed, slapping her face light enough to make her eyes open and stare into his. “Want to be our little cum dump, baby?”

“Yes, yes, please,” her voice broke as soon as they started moving faster, Johnny leaned closer, pressing her body between his and Jeno’s making her head spin so fast and feel so small she could come only by that.

“Then beg for it,” Jeno groaned, throwing his head back because it was getting too much even for them. The wet sounds of their skins, her soft, hoarse moans, the warmth of her insides, these fantasies they never even imagined finding hot, everything was too much. “Come on, let me hear your pretty voice — fuck — beg for it. Beg to be pumped full of cum.”

“Please,” she whimpered, voice airy and chest panting faster than before. “Please, a — ahh.”

“That was pathetic,” Johnny mocked, a deep laugh rumbling from his chest. “Try again, doll. And look at me while you beg.”

She huffed, eyes barely opening, heart fluttering at the way he was looking at her. “Ple-please, — come inside of me — mmph — please.”

“Is this all you have to give?” Jeno laughed. “You don’t understand — fuck. No, listen to me,” he groaned when she tried to retort. “Beg for it and tell us exactly what you need. If I don’t — shit — hear those words slip out of your dirty mouth like I want to,” he growled, turning her face around, forcing her lips open, spit rolling down her throat again, “we will come all over you and you’ll come over and over again with that vibrator until there’s nothing to drain out of you, got it?”

She hummed, head bobbing up and down quickly before Johnny turned her face around again. “Your throat’s a little sore, isn’t it?” He asked, lower lip pouting out and she nodded. “Need to wet it? Yes? Then open your mouth,” he ordered.

“You — you, there’s no water,” she said, looking at the empty glass sitting on the table behind him.

He laughed, “who talked about water? Open. Up,” he ordered, voice dropping low, making her obey immediately. “Good,” he smirked before his spit rolled down her tongue too. “And now beg.”

“Please, give me — give me your cum,” she whimpered. “I want to be filled — no — fuck — I — mmph — I need to be filled, need your cum, need to be your — your dirty messy doll, please. Fuck me full, n-nhh, ahhh, fuck me til I’m a — a leaking mess.”

“See, it wasn’t that fucking hard,” Jeno praised, wrapping a hand around her neck but applying no pressure, just to keep her body up, noticing she was going limper every passing second.

“Now we can give you what you need,” Johnny groaned, looking over at Jeno that nodded at his silent words. “Come with us, one last time, come on, you can do that.”

She saw white when the last orgasm hit, leaving her trembling, squeezed between their bodies, tears spilling free and once again transparent fluid squirting out of her, making a mess on Johnny’s abs and her own tummy.

“You — fuck — feel so good,” Jeno groaned, coming inside of her, hips moving lazily, pumping into her and she felt like she could feel their cocks slamming into her much more now, seriously too stimulated. And only when Johnny came, too much cum filling her up, already sliding out of her even if he was still inside, her squirting stopped, and her body chased shaking.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Jaehyun and Jaemin mumbled at the same time, their hands on their cocks moving faster, reaching their high too and as soon as Johnny pulled back from her body, they let their cum fall on her tummy and boobs, painting her skin white.

“Good girl,” Johnny and Jeno moaned at the same time. Jeno was leaving kisses against her neck and Johnny moved back her hair from her face, caressing her burning wet cheek. “Our good fucking girl.”

“Guess we won’t tell anything to your mother,” they laughed, pulling away slowly, a copious amount of cum dripping out of her, making a mess on the couch and on the floor. But she couldn’t care, her eyes were too heavy and her body was wrecked, so she slipped into a deep sleep before she could say or do anything else.

“What the hell,” she mumbled, turning around on… her bed? She stood up, feeling sore, and looked around, noticing that yes, she was in her room, her body was clean and she was covered with a big sweater. “Are they still here?” She questioned under her breath, hearing sounds coming from downstairs.

“Look who’s up,” Jaemin said when she entered the living room, turning around from the couch and smiling at her.

“I hope you cleaned it before sitting on it,” she said, walking toward them, groaning when she felt her muscles burn with every step.

“Yeah, we’re not that dumb,” Jeno replied. “How do you feel?”

She shrugged, sitting on Johnny’s lap, snuggling close to his body. “Wrecked.”

“Go back to sleep, then?” Jaehyun said.

She shook her head, rubbing her eyes. “My body is tired but not my mind.”

“Here,” Jaehyun said, walking toward her. “You need water.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go.

“Better?” Johnny asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, watching as she nodded and waited for Jaehyun to pour another one.

“You fell asleep so soon before, we were afraid we pushed you too much,” Jeno confessed.

She shook her head, placing the glass on the coffee table and snuggling back close to Johnny. “I’m fine, I was just exhausted,” she chuckled. “If I wanted to stop, I would’ve used the safeword,” she reassured them, hands playing with the sleeves of her sweater nervously.

“Okay,” Johnny said when his gaze fell there, and he could feel her shift uncomfortably on top of him. “What’s going on?”

“What?” She asked, lifting her head up to look at him.

“You’re nervous, you have something going on in your mind, what’s that?”

She huffed, he did know her too well. “I… I had fun, so much fun, but… what if this changed the way you see me? What if you really think I’m gross,” she whispered, looking down at her hand.

“Hey,” Jeno cooed, lifting her head up with two fingers. “You threw up on me at a party, I think that’s the thing that should’ve made me change the way I see you, and here we are.”

“Shut up,” she said, slapping his hand away, and cringing at the memory. Fair, that was humiliating, and there was no need to be reminded.

“Anyway, I’m serious, and I think that’s the same for all of us, right?” He said, looking at his other friends.

“Yeah, also maybe you awoke those fantasies in us, too,” Jaemin commented. “I mean, that was hot in a way I never imagined.”

“So, you were only playing those fantasies, right?”

“Of course, we were,” Johnny said, his hand caressing the skin on her thigh in circles. “And you did such a good job taking so much, you know that right?” He whispered, making her smile shyly and once again look at the floor. “Also, you mean too much for us to think that some silly fantasies will ruin what we think of you.”

“Yeah, also you do tend to worry too much every day, so I’m not so shocked that during sex you want to shut your brain off completely,” Jaemin added, showing her his usual reassuring smile.

“So, you get it! Like, that’s why I like it so much, I know it’s weird but, but I trust you and I can just loosen up, you know? I know giving up control can be a lot but when it’s with the right person… well, in this case, people, it feels so good. I feel like I carry so much weight every day that I just want to turn my brain off when I know I’m safe.”

“And that’s totally valid,” Johnny whispered, resting his chin on top of her shoulder.

“We weren’t expecting so much degradation, though,” Jeno said. “You do start crying at the smallest criticism.”

“But it’s different. It’s more about being talked down at, it’s the tone, the teasing, also… being challenged makes me want to prove something so yeah, you know I’ve always been extremely competitive, and I have to prove a point. And the back and forth with degradation and praises just… does something to me, I guess,” she explained, or at least tried to, it wasn’t like she broke down her kinks every day, some part of it just felt good with no need to give an explanation.

They hummed, it made sense somehow.

“As long as you’re enjoying it, it’s fine for us. It was just surprising, especially because you seem to really be into it,” Jaehyun said, a teasing smile on his lips that made her lower her head.

“You know, I wasn’t surprised about the praise kink at all, considering how eager you are at getting praises and how you do cartwheels every time someone compliments you,” Johnny commented, chuckling tenderly.

“Not my fault. Blame it on being a failed gifted kid, my desire for academic validation and trauma,” she replied with a pout, making them laugh.

“So you’re not even shocked anymore, right? You won’t let this slip with anybody else?”

“Nah, I think that nothing about you can shock us anymore,” Jaemin replied.

“Maybe she keeps dead bodies in her freezer,” Jaehyun joked.

“Maybe the first one will be yours.” She faked an evil smile while looking at him, making him laugh.

“Don’t worry, by the way, we won’t tell anybody,” Johnny reassured her, caressing her back.

“Yeah, also because I don’t want — we don’t want anybody else to have you,” Jeno added, trying to shrug the furrow on his face.

“Good. I got so lost before I didn’t even fear you weren’t okay with this but then you know, after nut clarity was like a cold shower,” she giggled, feeling her heart lighter knowing that they still valued her the same.

“We had the time of our lives, I think it was pretty clear,” Jaehyun replied.

“Yeah, you are good,” Jaemin said. “Like, not only because well, of course, you are attractive and that’s good but you know, it’s you. We’ve known you so long we feel the same safeness that you feel even if our roles are different.”

“I agree,” Johnny said. “I don’t think I’ll feel as comfortable as I feel with you with somebody else. Maybe a girlfriend, after some months, but with a stranger? Not knowing their limits? Not being able to read them and see what gets them the most?”

“Okay so you were all terrible boyfriends,” she joked.

“Nah, when you date someone it’s different because you know them, the problems are one-night stands,” Jeno replied.

“But you weren’t expecting this even from me… Our first time was like a one-night stand.” That was what it was supposed to be.

“Yeah, but trust me when I say that we can read your body. And after last time, I’m pretty sure we can all tell what’s running in your mind while we’re fucking you,” Johnny said and she hummed, hiding in the crook of his neck. “Oh, please, acting shy now?”

“It’s weird when I’m lucid,” she mumbled against him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You don’t even want a few praises when your brain’s with us?” Jaemin asked, chuckling when she moved again and stared at him.

“No, I always want praises.”

“Fine, so, in case you were wondering,” he started saying, “you were so good, and we all loved trying those gross things with you so you can sleep at night with no worries, okay?”

She hummed, still feeling a bit shy, but she knew she was just still overwhelmed by everything because there was no awkwardness in the air.

“And since you’ve been such a good girl,” Johnny said, looking at the others, making her do the same, “we have a surprise for you.”

“I can’t take another round,” she said immediately.

“It’s not another round, girl, you milked the fuck out of us give us some time to refill,” Jeno replied.

“You’re always so gross,” she huffed, looking at him with a disgusted expression.

“You are the one talking,” he said and she was about to reply when Jaemin stopped their small bickering.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered her. She could see he was holding something behind his back, but followed the order. “Open.”

“You baked the muffins?” She exclaimed with a big smile on her face, looking at the tray full of sweets.

“We thought you deserved a treat after everything you took,” Jaehyun replied, smiling at her.

“Yeah, and it turned out that on your phone, other than those nasty audios there was also the recipe,” Johnny joked, making her roll her eyes.

“Talking about my phone,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glaring at Johnny. “Give it back to me.”

“Is there more that you’re hiding?” He asked, eyes wide in shock but taking the phone from his pocket and handing it to her.

“Maybe…” she whispered, turning around to grab the muffin. “Should we see if you’re good at baking as you’re good at fucking?”

“I think that will disappoint you, then,” Jaehyun joked, moving from the armchair to reach the plate on the coffee table.

“Come on, they won’t be so bad,” Jaemin said, doing the same.

“Mhh,” she moaned after a bite, “these are good,” she mumbled, swallowing.

Johnny took a bite and hummed in agreement, “they are good, but they won’t make you run away from your kinks, what’s worse than we already know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Why do you want to know? Are we going to do this again?”

They all shrugged. “Why not?” they asked all together and she sighed, they always knew how to be synchronized when they wanted to.

“You like it, right?” Jaehyun asked. “And it’s not like you, or any of us, is seeing someone? Isn’t this safer and better than random sex?”

“I can’t always take the four of you,” she said after swallowing another bite of the sweet. “Sure, I like it but it’s a lot.”

“We don’t come in a pack,” Jeno said, voice almost bitter. She furrowed looking at him, not understanding his shift, but then shrugged it off.

“I liked the conversation about my kinks better,” she whispered, biting her lip nervously.

“Hey, if you don’t want that to happen again, we won’t make it happen,” Johnny reassured, caressing her shoulder.

“It’s not that I don’t want it to happen again,” she sighed. “But that would make us... friends with benefits? And what if… what if this goes wrong?”

“Then let’s not think about it,” Jaemin said, trying to lighten up the room again. “Let’s stay like this, if something happens, it happens and if we can keep our pants on, that’s okay too.”

“I just don’t want to lose you,” she said, hoping they could understand. But at this point, she was confused too. It had been hard also for her to pretend that nothing happened, not that they wanted to delete that summer night, but they were trying to avoid it from happening again. But she couldn’t deny that she was more touchy than usual and she saw them in a slightly different light than the usual, not a love light, but the attraction was there, so dense they could’ve cut it with a knife and she had no idea where it would’ve led them.

“We don’t want to lose you either,” Johnny said. “But if this will happen again… tell us just one more, please,” he pouted, tickling her, making her laugh.

“Stop, I could’ve choked,” she said, coughing, placing the empty cup of the muffin on the table. “No judging, but you have to promise me for real this time,” she said, glaring at them with a scary pointer finger.

“Yeah, go on, nothing scares us anymore,” Jaemin encouraged her.

“I might have a breeding kink too,” she confessed, eyes drifting on them to see their reactions.

“Shit, breeding, too?” Johnny gasped.

“Oh, hell no, we’re not putting a baby inside you,” Jeno said, shaking his head.

“Dummy, it’s not actually wanting a baby,” she explained, rolling her eyes. “It’s the intimacy and the possessiveness. I don’t know, I can’t give you an explanation and I won’t because you don’t deserve it, you promised you weren’t going to judge but you did.”

“We’re not judging the kink but weren’t you terrified of pregnancy?” Jeno asked.

“It’s not that,” she huffed. “It’s hot, I don’t know why, let me breathe,” she sighed. “I swear I’ll get something embarrassing that turns you on out of your mouth and will tease you for the rest of your life.”

“Oh, come here,” Jeno said, moving her on top of him and leaving a small peck on her lips, “we’re just messing with you. It’s okay to just enjoy being filled with cum and don’t give a philosophical explanation,” he joked and she whined more. “I hate you,” she mumbled against his chest, even if, well, he wasn’t so wrong and maybe the main reason was that.

“Come on, stop messing with her,” Jaehyun said, getting up and stretching. “It’s not that late, should we have our small party anyway?”

“I’ll pick the movie,” she said, lifting a hand,

“You will fall asleep halfway through, you won’t pick anything,” Jeno said.

“I don’t care, gonna grab more food and some drinks,” Jaemin said, excluding himself from their discussion and going to the kitchen.

When they finally picked a movie they all tried to squeeze on her couch, leading to her sitting on Jeno’s lap, while they eat and drank and talked over the movie because discussing it and criticizing it was more interesting than watching it.

“I’m just going to lay on top of you,” she said, lying sideways, taking space on top of Johnny with her legs and Jeno with her upper body. “I’m not sleeping,” she warned, making them chuckle. She needed to prove Jeno a point, but she was so tired that not even her pride could win over tiredness. So, her eyes fell shut, and the next morning she would’ve blamed it on their soft touches on her skin.

“Damn, we didn’t film it,” Jeno pointed out, fingers playing with her hair, studying her relaxed face, completely zoned out from the movie — he had missed like half of the plot by then.

“We’ve saved it for the next time,” Jaemin replied, sipping from his glass before his cold hand started caressing her leg, making her shiver for a second.

“There will be a next time?” Jaehyun asked, looking at them with a furrow.

Johnny smirked, lips curling in a softer smile when he looked at her, sleeping peacefully. “Trust me, there will be.”

taglist: @kundann

I hope you liked it, let me know what you think, please!!

#nct fanfiction #johnny smut #jaehyun smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #johnjae smut #nomin smut #suh johnny smut #jeong jaehyun smut #lee jeno smut #na jaemin smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut

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piratefishmama · 9 months

Text

Fake it till you make it | Part 10

Eddie declined the invitation to stay for dinner that evening, politely of course, and genuinely solemn in his refusal. He would have actually liked to stay, the Harringtons weren’t… bad. They weren’t bad. As baffling as that notion was, they weren’t bad, but Eddie had dinner with Wayne every night. It was part of their routine, had been since his freshman year of Highschool and continued to be even now when they could see each other a lot more now that he wasn’t in Highschool anymore.

It'd always been the only time during the day where he’d be able to see Wayne before he went to work. A time where they could catch up, Wayne could ask him about school, now it was about the band, or if he’d had any luck finding an actual job, or if he’d heard any new gossip.

Wayne loved a bit of gossip. Quiet as he may have been, he soaked up gossip like a sponge because nobody ever expected him to be actually listening to the conversations they had around him.

What the Harringtons were actually like, he’d be on the edge of his seat waiting for that bit of juice. Metaphorically of course, Wayne was always the picture of calm indifference whenever he asked about the gossip, like it wasn’t deep down his life blood.

They had pretty solid excuses to not see each other for the rest of that week though.

Eddie had band practice, Steve had work, they’d ‘see each other’ in between where the parents couldn’t see and the only phone call that needed to happen between meet the parents day, and the day they left, was the night before to arrange the time when he ought to arrive back at the house with Uncle Wayne in tow.

It was… heaven, actually.

In Steve’s case anyway, that week, leading up to the week away? Bliss. Complete and utter bliss.

His parents were happy with him, they weren’t trying to introduce him to anyone, weren’t bothering him, sure they asked a couple of times if Eddie would be coming by, offering an open invite for dinner again, but they didn’t mind when Steve gave them the same excuse of he’s having dinner with Wayne!

The only issue he had was Robin and her teasing little “you made out with Eddie Munson” sing song she brought out at random while working together midway through the week, and no amount of “it was PRACTICE” would shut her up.

“I just can’t believe it!” She’d said while they were stocking shelves “you, Steve Harrington, Keg King, ruler of the jocks—”

“Ex, Robin, ex-king, pretty sure I haven’t been king of anything in years now” he’d shed that title. Let it fly free to land on a douchebag who wanted it more.

“Okay but still, lord of the jocks, with Eddie. King of the nerds.”

“And why is that so weird?” Why was she acting as if it were actually real? As if she hadn’t been there when Dustin had suggested the faux relationship.

“I didn’t think he’d be your type!”

“He’s not” the only real issue he had, was that maybe that wasn’t actually… completely, strictly... true, as he was rapidly beginning to realise.

And Robin knew it, if her scoffed little “ch’yeah OK, an I’m not a lesbian.” Was anything to go by. She let it go though.

She let it go because the chime above the door rang alerting them to customers, and their day continued on as normal.

Their week continued on as normal, with a brief appearance of the kids on the Thursday evening to try and sneak an R rated movie by him for a sleepover at the Wheeler’s but they didn’t get very far.

They took the Goonies despite Dustin’s very loud complaints about having seen it five times already and that he wasn’t going to do the truffle shuffle again, so don’t anyone ask him to do it, only to immediately lose all the wind in his very serious sails when Jane mentioned she’d yet to see him do it.

Friday was uneventful save for the phone call with Eddie the night before.

And then It was Saturday, and he was watching an old pick up pull up to a stop out front, watching Wayne Munson, in his well-worn jeans covered in dust, work boots, and flannel climb out of the truck. He may have been up all night working, but he was awake, alert, and he even grabbed Eddie’s bags out of the truck for him while Eddie sorted out his carryables.

A gym bag that’d never been used for gym full of… well, Steve didn’t know but it looked heavy, and a guitar case that looked fit for an acoustic rather than the beauty hung over the mirror in Eddie’s bedroom.

Steve rose to his feet and poked his head back through the front door to yell “The Munsons are here!” Before making his way down the drive to greet them halfway, taking Eddie’s suitcase from Wayne to put it by the door with the rest of their things with a friendly “morning, sir! How was your shift last night?”

“Exhaustin, an boy I told you over the phone, it’s just Wayne.”

“I know I just… have this, memory issue, bopped on the head a couple’a times, so you’re just gonna have to keep reminding me.” It earned a chuckle from the man and a gentle pat to his shoulder, and then Eddie was there, a bundle of energy dressed in a band tee with the sleeves chopped off and ripped black jeans, a buffalo check flannel wrapped and tied around his slim waist to complete ‘the look’. His hair wild and free as usual. “Eddie, you uh… you clean up nice…”

The smile was replaced with a look of surprise, Eddie doing a quick once over of himself as if he hadn’t actually— “I do? I didn’t—well I wasn’t trying to I mean—” tried to look good. He just naturally looked good. Of course, he just naturally looked good, the bastard.

“Guess it’s just a you thing then. Looking good I mean.” So smooth, but it worked. Eddie actually looked frozen in place, like a wire had just decided enough was enough and shorted out. It recovered quickly enough though, allowing Eddie to cutely hide behind his own hair, cheeks a pretty pink, dimpled by his bashful smile.

“Guess games on then huh, boys?” Wayne spoke through an amused chuckle, before turning his attention to the two adults who appeared in the doorway, both in… surprisingly relaxed attire.

When Wayne pictured the Harringtons, and he had once or twice when he’d overheard them being mentioned in town, he’d always kind of pictured two highly manicured people, pencil skirts, blazers, pressed slacks, polo shirts and pastel colours. Nothing old, nothing well worn, everything looking like it’d only just come off the rack and dry clean only.

Lynda however, in her red house socks, soft, dark brown, woollen skirt resting just below her knees, and baby-pink sweater tucked into her skirt, looked comfortable. And John was wearing something Wayne probably would have worn himself! Jeans and a simple dark blue button down shirt.

The only ‘manicured’ thing about them was that John was clean shaven, and Lynda’s honey brown hair looked freshly blown out. She wasn’t even wearing makeup, he felt like he’d stepped into some alternate reality where rich people were normal folk. “Mr Munson” John greeted as he stepped out of the house, hand extended which Wayne took to give a firm shake then released. “I see our boys are in a world of their own.” Wayne turned back to them as if to check and yep, they’d begun loading Eddie’s things into the Lincoln… slowly. Matching smiles on their faces as they talked about… god only knows what.

Damn scheme would make idiots out of the both of them. “Seems like.”

“Why don’t you come on inside and have a coffee, let the boys load everything up.” Well, he wasn’t going to turn down whatever fancy shit the Harringtons had in their cupboards, was he?

“Don’t mind if I do, might wake me up some.” And he was inside. The damn hallway looked bigger than his whole trailer for a moment. But no, it couldn’t be, it was just… long, and felt emptier without knick-knacks or pictures lining the walls. It was clean though, not even a hint of dust. “So… Steve lives here on his own while you two are away?”

“It wasn’t ideal” Lynda admitted softly “but Steven had to finish school so we couldn’t take him with us, and well, after that he was old enough to take care of himself. We keep in touch the best we can” calls were occasional, and they dropped in from time to time, but Steve was an adult now. It wasn’t like he was still a child.

He could probably move out if he wanted to. It wasn’t like he didn’t have access to the trust fund yet. It was his! He just hadn’t touched it yet, worked for his money, was clearly saving the fund for something more important.

“And the boys…” Wayne began once they reached the kitchen, a room full of mahogany and marble, John already there setting the coffee maker, everything pristine. Steve kept the whole place spotless, all on his own. Could be as supportive as they wanted, there was no excuse for leaving that boy all on his own for so damn long. “You don’t mind them bein… themselves around you? Now I've walked in on them up to all kinds'a nonsense, in a total world'a their own. They’re kinda touchy an they ain’t about to be like some bashful damsels actin shy with each other, they’re both men, an you supportin that means they’ll assume it’s okay to be who they are around you.”

Even though Wayne knew they weren’t actually a couple, he saw them, he saw their chemistry, he saw how Steve looked at his nephew, and he knew, he knew Eddie had had his fair share of mole related crisis’s over the years being in Steve’s vicinity in school.

There was no way they’d come out of this cleanly. Either of them. No drawn out fake date scheme ever ended cleanly.

“Boys will be boys.” Lynda chirped as if she wasnt even the slightest bit surprised, huh. “The chalet is quite large, Mr. Munson—”

“Wayne, please, ma’am.”

“Then, Lynda, if you please, Wayne” he gave her a curt nod “as I was saying, the chalet is large, there’s plenty of places for them to hide away, and I know Steven knows all of them. We used to play hide and seek when he was little, we almost had the police out searching for him once or twice, so I know he knows where to go if he wants a little privacy. We don’t expect them to be… chaste, our son is—” she paused, then looked to John with a slight scrunch in her nose.

“A slut.” Wayne was glad he wasn’t drinking anything yet because it’d have been all over the floor as he choked on his own saliva. John so nonchalant with how he said it. “We were all young once, Wayne and he’s no innocent child. Now I don’t know Eddie, but if I know my son…” and he liked to think he did, at least a little. “With what I saw the other day... i'm not surprised that they've already rounded a few bases.” A fair assessment. Their chemistry was off the charts. “How’d you take your coffee, Wayne?”

“And that ain’t an issue to you? Just black’s fine.” He was handed a mug filled with black coffee, clean, black porcelain, plain. Nothing fun about it. He still kind of wanted to take it home to add to the collection, the rare ‘expensive house, rich family’ mug.

“Not really no. As long as they're staying safe. The world is changing outside of Hawkins, and when you own a business you either change with it or get left behind.” A solid business stance, Wayne couldn’t argue with that but… if it was just for business then—

Lynda placed a hand on her husbands’ arm, offering a warm smile that reminded him a lot of Steve, that boy got a lot of his softness from his mother it seemed. “Eddie is delightful, a little quirky, looks a little different to the people we usually find in our home, but… if he can make our son look that happy just by being here, well… even if we wanted to stand in the way of it, which we don’t… I don’t believe we could. Steven is an adult now, and we can either support him in his decisions, or lose him.” Those were the options. Support him, or Steve would inevitably find his own way. “We may not be around as often as we’d like, we may have missed a lot of him growing up… but we would still rather support him than lose him. People like them… they deserve to be happy too, don’t you think?”

Wayne took a sip of his coffee, damn near groaned at the rich taste of quality grounds, both in love of the taste, and in mourning of what he'd only have once, but nodded his head in agreement. Approval. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. The peace an quiet at the trailer’s gonna be real strange.” He was giving his go ahead. “But… I suppose I can let him go on ahead with you.”

Eddie could go and he wouldn’t stop him. Although the chief would know where Eddie was, just in case he mysteriously disappeared, as terrifying as that thought was. As sobering and... mind changing, as that thought was.

No, Eddie would be fine. He'd be okay.

“Wonderful!” Lynda cheered, as if Eddie really was welcome among them. “So… has Eddie ever been on a plane before?”

Part 12

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #yeah aint no rich person road tripping to canada from indiana #absolutely not

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mrs-kodzuken · 3 months

Note

Can I have a timeskip!Ushijima comfort fic? Like Ushi doesn't understand the concept of skinship like holding hands and hugs so he often shrugs off reader's attempts in skinships, which of course made reader feel sad ㅠㅠ

Thank you and have a nice day! <3

Understanding you ♡

Pairing: Aged up! Wakatoshi Ushijima x fem!reader

WC: 1.6k

Genre: slight angst to comfort/fluff

CW: fem!reader, inexperienced in relationships!Wakatoshi, slight angst from ushi :( , fluff and comfort all in the end :)) , maybe some self deprecation from reader, best friends with tendou, communication is always key

note: thank you for requesting this! I hope it’s up to your expectations, sugar!! <3

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Being the girlfriend of the Wakatoshi Ushijima was something I didn’t expect would hurt this much. As his girlfriend, I understood the importance of volleyball since it quite literally is his career path. However, being in a relationship is a whole other aspect to think about.

There never really was anything that really stood out to me about his wrongdoings. He always made it to every dinner plan, he didn’t forget the classic month to month anniversaries, he seemed like he was just a gift from heaven.

I knew it was too good to be true when I realized we, or I, was severely lacking in the physical department of our relationship.

Ushijima and I never really got closer within touching or skin-ship distance. That really sucked for me and hurt my feelings since he aced every other aspect of our relationship, no pun intended.

I wasn’t sure if he was just uncomfortable with touching me or if he had some kind of weird feeling about touching me. However, with physical touch being my number one priority of love language I wasn’t sure how to go about telling him my feelings.

Giving Wakatoshi free rein to plan out his schedule, except for date nights, was a must. He is a grown man and I’m not his mother, but I always felt bad when there was something important, like this, to be talked about.

I couldn’t help but to bite my lip as I stared at our private text messages. His contact name, ‘Ushi baby’ stared right back at me whilst I tried to work up the courage to send a text.

Deciding against it, I threw my phone onto my bed and sighed loudly. He was at practice and had a game tomorrow so I didn’t want to bother him or cloud his mind with meaningless things like what I need to talk about.

I couldn’t help to wallow in my own pity. The clock on my white painted walls doing nothing but making the sound of ticking throughout my room which eventually annoyed me enough to leave.

It was around the time for Ushi’s practice to be over and I really wanted him to come over, I just didn’t know how everything would go.

Whenever we had first started dating I got introduced, and interviewed, by Wakatoshi’s best friend, Tendou. And now, Tendou was one of my closest friends so I decided to call the Chocolatier himself for support.

After the phone had rang for three seconds it picked up, “Hello! Hello!” the familiar voice sounded throughout my kitchen.

“Hey Ten! I am in need of advice and company.” I admitted due to the facetime call revealing his apron on with some stains of colors on it.

“Oh really?” He asked, drawing out the ‘really’.

“Yes, really. I need to talk to Wakatoshi, I’m just not sure how. Any ideas?”

“That depends on what you’re going to talk to him about. Saying the wrong thing could make him easily misunderstand what you mean and vice versa.” Tendou tried to poetically explain, as if I didn’t already know that.

“Yeah, thank you so much,” I rolled my eyes, “I’m feeling a bit.. lonely in our relationship lately. I need more physical affection from him and I’m not sure how to really bring it up because times that’s happened before.”

That little spill from me made memories pop up into my head of Ushijima rejecting my attempts for physical love.

I could only remember how he shrugged himself away from holding my hand or kissing me after I brought him a well-balanced lunch meal one day during practice.

I never felt more embarrassed or ashamed in my life. My own boyfriend rejected my advances to give him, and to receive love from him in front of his entire team.

It wasn’t the only time that that had happened. I tried doing it behind closed doors just in case he didn’t like publicly displaying affection. However, that didn’t work either when he moved away from me one night after being out to dinner.

From that point on it’s just been messaging, very little facetime, some phone calls, and occasionally visiting each other’s apartment. I wasn’t sure how to proceed with this, and I certainly didn’t think it was anywhere near enough to breaking up.

However, that doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt my feelings nor have been continuing to hurt them. Whether on purpose or not.

With Ushijima being a member of the Schweiden Adlers, I knew some of his teammates and occasionally talked with them about how my boyfriend was doing time to time.

However, I couldn’t help to not reach out to them within the last couple of weeks. I didn’t have the courage to confidently ask about him.

Tendou’s voice brought me back to where I needed to be, which was having this conversation to communicate my needs across to him.

“And since knowing him for a while helps my understanding, I think a simple conversation would do the trick. Honestly, I’m not sure why you called if you knew that too?” He questioned me, eyes peering dangerously close to mine through the tiny phone screen.

I bit my lip, “It’s just… he has a game tomorrow. I don’t want to ruin that by spouting dumb nonsense about how I’m not feeling this or that from him.”

Growing up, I’ve always considered other peoples thoughts, opinions, feelings before mine. It was just the kind of person I was, and now it hurts me the most when I need to express myself.

“Girl. Fuck that game.” He rolled his eyes at me.

“Yes Wakatoshi loves his career and it’ll always be there but you’re something in his life that can disappear at any moment. I think he’d want to know,” Tendou tried reasoning with my dumb logic as he pointed a wooden spoon in my direction.

I gave up. I knew in the back of my mind that Tendou was definitely right and I wasn’t but it was my own self that was keeping me from doing what I needed to do.

“Alright, I think I’ll ask him to come over tonight then.” I tried to say confidently after I made up my mind of what needed to be done.

“Great! When I’m in Tokyo next I’ll be sure to bring a little something for you and him.” Tendou winked at me before ending the facetime call.

That only left me to do one thing, text my boyfriend. I quickly sent him a text asking if it would be okay for him to come over after practice.

My nerves were all over the place as I waited for the tall, olive haired man to show up at my place.

Soon the door bell brought me out of my mind trance and when I opened the door I saw the one and only Ushijima.

“Hey Toshi, come in,” I widened the door after taking a good look at him.

It seemed like he came here right out of practice, he was still in his whole practice uniform. His usual stoic face didn’t change once I sat down on to my living room couch.

“Is something the matter, (Y/n)?” He bluntly asked, getting straight to the point with me.

I took a deep breath to prepare myself, “Yes, Toshi. There is something the matter. My feelings are hurt and have been hurt for a while due to the lack of physical touch in our relationship.” I paused for a moment to look over his face.

He seemed to be intently listening on every word I was saying which gave me the impression to keep going.

“I just want more skin ship with you like hugging, kissing, hang holding, or even just sitting beside you with arms touching. I feel deprived of that because you seem to always move away when I try to initiate it. Is there a reason or..?” I trailed off, finishing what I was saying and asking a question to see his side.

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way, (Y/n). I don’t understand the idea of that. It makes you feel more loved than usual?” He asked, trying to work around in his head of what I had mentioned.

“Well, yes. Without it I feel upset or rejected by you sometimes.” I hung my head low a bit, it was embarrassing having to discuss this. However, I was always one to get embarrassed or ashamed at anything I needed.

“I will try, for you.” He promised, his large hand reaching over to me and placing it on my knee. He was very warm and it traveled through my body.

I smiled a bit, “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

I scooted closer to him on the couch and he gave me his one million dollar small smile that I love. His arms wrapped around my shoulders whilst I hugged his torso. His lean but built, very built, body touched my soft one, I loved this feeling.

We stayed like that for a minute, nothing heard but the low volume of my living room TV and our breathing.

“Thank you, Toshi. I really appreciate that you’ll try for me.” I pulled away, already missing the hug but needing to say that to his face.

“Of course, love.” His hand came up to caress my face and I leaned into his touch.

The aching in my heart and body went away after discussing that with him. It was all just a bit miscommunication which was easily fixed after I expressed what I needed to.

I couldn’t be more content.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: I hope you enjoyed anon!! I’m terrible at writing for Ushijima but thank you for helping me extend the people I can write for :))

you all know my header rules, if not see pinned post!!

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soaringthoughts · 1 year

Text

:: A MISFORTUNE'S VESSEL. ( chapter 1 )

lowercase intended. CONTENT WARNING: depressing topics, implied deaths. PAIRINGS: aqua hoshino x reader A/N: MINOR changes on the plot in order to squeeze the reader in and make the plot make sense, such as: reader is the daughter of Miyako and Ichigo Saitou. this is the only change I made in the plot so it doesn’t affect the main stream of Oshi No Ko that much. POV is second person pov. reader is AFAB. english is not my first language so expect some grammar errors. usage of [name] instead of Y/N. reader is addressed by name instead of pronouns.

story starts with the reader already knowing Aqua from his past life (Goro Amamiya) and will only focus on that for the meanwhile, next chapter will be Aqua.

my first fanfic! open for criticisms. word count: 3,079 words

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a disappointment. that's what you're always labeled as. you've already reached the age range wherein you're finally capable of getting hired in a job, but of course, you can't get yourself one. didn't finish college either, makes you wonder how vast your parents' patience must be to let you keep living under their roof despite not returning the favor of their great care by accomplishing something. and just as if the world was opposing you, you got caught in a car crash on your way home from a job interview.

perhaps you are binded by fate to just stare at the solid concrete ceiling of your hospital room.

………….

“my [name]..” the guttural whines of worry from your mother will live rent-free on your head. it was the hint of concern and worry in your parents' words that's evident in their voice, but it was only the glint of dismay in their half-lidded eyes that you saw.

you absolutely see no point in living now. you've always been a disappointment for your family the whole time, and now, you even made things worse by practically forcing them to charge for your hospital fees.

dealing with both fatal, incapacitating injuries, and heart failure was a rough circumstance for you, and it only doubles the fees that your parents need to charge.

your mind was all stirred from all these heavy thoughts as the guilt continued to consume you, perhaps the world got stuck in an endless time loop to maintain your suffering on purpose.

“I won't be surprised if your body stays frozen like that for hours.” it's almost as if a shrieking noise snapped you out from your thoughts the moment you heard your doctor spoke. you remained silent however, not the slightest bit of word slipping out of your mouth. this doctor was getting on your nerves lately. you were never a fan of small talks nor a conversation itself. you always thought that drowning in your thoughts while getting lost in your own little world as your eyes are solely focused on the scenery across the window was better.

“Do I have something to say?” your remark was thrown off in a sarcastic manner as your gaze was still fixated on the window, which only raised a hint of concern on his face further. but his expression remained neutral.

“You've been staring at the window for an hour. It wont hurt to initiate a conversation from time to time.” he let out a ragged exhale. was he also getting tired of you? of course. he's been guarding you in your room for hours after all, you still don't know why but perhaps it's to keep you company and to have someone present in case there's something wrong with your injury.

“…” it was the pause of silence that's somehow clear and tranquil within the walls of the room. he was right. you are worn out by the boredom, too, so maybe, just maybe, you'll get some source of entertainment if you finally speak. “Doc, have you ever felt like the whole world is against you?” maybe his eyebrows raised in amusement. maybe it was because he found you weird. but it's either of the latter.

“..The world has to be unfair to everyone in some aspects. It's not just us who experience it.” you aren't sure whether it was the answer you were looking for, but his response intrigued you. he isn't so bad for an 'old' doctor after all, you thought. "And if you please, just call me Goro." he followed up after.

“Wouldn't that be unprofessional?” you immediately detached your eyes off of the window to dart it at his for a moment, and the first thing that you saw was the startled and surprised expression written all over his face. “Are you serious all the time?” he shot back in a questioning manner. although it might sound a little offending, to you at the least, you only let out a slight laugh at his remark. “I thought we're supposed to be professional with doctors. It would sound off to refer to you as a mere friend.” you asked back again with that slight smile now evident on your face.

“Well, that's for other doctors, I suppose.” Goro responded with a shrug. you hummed at the answer, maybe he prefers to be casual unlike the others. that would indeed open up a path for you two to get along. "I'm-" just as you were about to say your name in return, he interrupted you. “[Name]. I already know from your documents, so no bother.” I can't tell whether he is bragging about that or.. you thought to yourself as you felt your eye slightly twitch at his straightforwardness.

“So, [Name]. What do you think of the entertainment industry?”

“Why'd you ask?”

“Just a question, really. I have this patient of mine that's obsessed with a certain idol.”

“Ai Hoshino?” Goro's eyebrows raised at your sudden response. it's almost as if he wasn't expecting it, but deep down, he knows that Ai is way too popular to not be known by everyone.

“Don't tell me you're obsessed with her too?”

“Not obsessed. I just admire her.”

“As for the entertainment industry, I know for sure that the way they operate behind the scenes is a mess. I'm not even an idol nor an actor myself but I can tell that the impression they display in public is fake.” Goro seemed to be fascinated by your words, his face obviously plastered with a look of both amusement and interest as he stared at you in silence for a brief moment.

“How can you te-” you could've sworn that the time was ticking slow. but before you realized it, the sun was about to hide behind the arms of the horizon as the rays of the sunlight lit through the window. Goro was interrupted mid sentence as well when he noticed this. “Ah, too bad I have to go.” he simply said as he got up from his seat and dusted off his coat.

"Already?" you frowned a little at this, considering that you're finally intrigued to talk to someone after for what's been like years.

"It's just the end of my shift. I'll be present tomorrow." there was a slight smile curved up on his lips before leaving the room, and boy, you felt at ease hearing those words.

………………………………………………..

you didn't know whether to feel happy or upset now that you only have a day left before you'll get discharged from the hospital. you didn't want to burden your parents anymore longer, but why are you upset now that you're finally free once again? there's this something in you that makes you want to stay more. or maybe it's just your attachment to Goro? you don't know.

just as when you are once again drowning in your thoughts, you got snapped back to reality by someone's voice. it's him.

"What are you doing all the way up here at this hour?" you immediately recognized his voice. you wanted to hear it more often─ but too bad, you just can't stay here just because you want to.

the gentle breeze of the countryside air softly swayed your hair locks back and forth. the rooftop of the hospital was dim and was only illuminated by the ray of the moonlight, hovering over the figure of the both of you as Goro kept staring at you from a distance.

and of course, you just felt like being sarcastic for one more remark, "Is it so bad to chill on the hospital's rooftop before my discharge?" his chuckle was completely audible despite the soaring roars of the wind and the continuous noises of the vehicles over the roads.

sure, it's loud here on the rooftop caused by those sounds, but that doesn't matter since it's his voice that your ears can only hear well.

"I suppose it would carve a memorial to make this our usual spot before your discharge."

"I'm not yet dead, you know." you surely are going to miss his jokes once you get out.

"I know, I know." the rooftop was immediately radiating with a positive aura as you both laughed. "Well? What are you gonna do now that you're back to your usual life?" he closed the stairway door and made his way to you, leaning over the railings as he stared into nothingness.

"…" there was a brief silence once again as the wind continued to leap through the garments of your clothing and hair. your chest heaved as you exhaled, also walking over the railing as you leaned on it beside him. "I don't even know. Not like I had a plan anyway." just the thought of getting discharged and living back to your normal life irks you. the same old, repetitive, dull, and 'being' a disappointment days will return. It will return now that you're out of the hospital just right when you already found someone who understands you well. you expected this from the start. good experiences come and go, but you still can't gather the wits to accept it.

"You know, I can't seem to do anything right even if I try hard. I always surge into actions with preparation and always come back empty-handed. It must be nice to live a life wherein you are blessed with skills and luck."

Goro knew that you had some depth in your words. you've told him about your struggle in finding a job and the results of your entrance exams in college before, so he immediately knew how to respond to you.

"A caterpillar must undergo a dissatisfying process before eventually blooming into a beautiful butterfly." his eyes were glistening with sincerity as he muttered those words out. although he was still staring into nothingness and eventually into the starry night skies, you just fixated your gaze on him.

"You can't be saying that."

"I can be saying that."

"But the caterpillar's progress will go to waste when a human steps on it."

"That caterpillar will remain wounded but still manage to live."

"It can still die after being stepped on."

"And it can still live after being stepped on."

"Why are we talking about caterpillars?"

"Because you're the caterpillar we're pertaining to." you quickly lost it and let out a laugh at Goro's remark this time. you knew he was referring to you, but why were you two talking about caterpillars instead? "Seriously, the caterpillar will die."

"Then that caterpillar will get reincarnated." his response this time was tacky, you can't help but laugh at it. of course his words were obviously laced with sarcasm, but you couldn’t help but see a fragment of hope in his words.

and for the first time in your life, fate resided within you. because guess who got reincarnated as the child of the president of an entertainment production.

“She is beautiful.” those were the first words you heard the moment you regained your consciousness and maintained the track of the world. and a pair of rosewood eyes were the first thing you laid your eyes on.

your mother was welcoming. your father, on the other hand, “Let’s just hope this won’t hinder our work.” you didn’t really have anything to say to him. perhaps he was just worn out from his work. he is the president of his company after all.

“Sorry about that, [Name]. Your father’s just immersed in his work. I’ll be the one who will take care of you by then. Although I’ll have to take you with me to the home of our company’s prized star to also keep watch for two of her children.”

not only is your father drowning in a stack of work to do, your mother is also forced to be in charge of taking care of children. it seems like she doesn’t like the duty of being a babysitter, you can tell it by her face and the way her chest heaved when she sighed. so you swore to yourself that you will behave well and remind the 2 other kids to do so as well.

strangely, you still remember how you lived your past life. your family, your memories, the time of your death, the place of your death. all of it is still fresh on your mind.

the world really does hate you, from your beginning and even until your end. you can’t accept the fact that the last memorable thing you had before your death was that conversation you had with Goro on the hospital’s rooftop. he told you that he’s in charge of delivering the babies of Ai the day before that, and that he is also supposed to guard you afterwards. but you never saw him come.

it was as if fate was playing you in its hands that they decided to give you a heart attack at that exact time. there were no doctors present as the rest of them were dealing with the other patients, so you were only treated by the inexperienced nurses.

you expected Goro to come, but you remembered that he is dealing with the giving birth of Ai.

“Then that caterpillar will get reincarnated.” it’s silly how those were the last words that flashed on your mind before your heart gave up. perhaps that interaction you had with him on the rooftop really was something special after all.

“Are you ready to meet them, [Name]?” it hasn’t been long before Miyako arrived with you at the home of the prized star she referred to. you could’ve sworn you’ve been blessed by the deities when it was none other than Ai Hoshino. this new life you have is definitely better than the former one you had.

your eyes met with hers. and of course, you got lost in it. “Is that [Name]? She’s adorable!” well that was a side of her that you expected. she really is carefree even when behind the screen.

“This is my daughter Ruby, and my son over there on the couch is Aqua. You guys will frequently spend more time here while I’m away so I hope you three will be the bestest of friends!” you didn’t appreciate how Ai shoved Ruby in front of you for the introduction, but liked her welcoming energy either way.

this was really a new experience for you. you didn’t expect to be close with your idol in your new life at all. but you’re not complaining either. this is your new life now, you’ve decided to just enjoy your life as a baby once again despite the big contrast between your true mental age.

“Come on. It’s time for work.”

“I’m out~”

the room was immediately confined with tranquility the moment your father, Ichigo, and Ai, headed out for work. while your mother, Miyako, just laid face-down on the sofa and groaned in distress.

‘I probably shouldn’t bother her.’ you can tell how frustrating it could be to take care of three children, so you just let Miyako be and sat on the clean mattress on the floor just in front of the TV.

Ai’s son, named Aqua, was also sitting from a distance on the mattress with you. there was an awkward silence between the two of you as expected. you didn’t feel like you’ll get along with his sister either, since you’ve been told that she’s younger.

that silence remained for what felt like an eternity before broken by the sounds of the TV when Aqua turned it on without a word. and oh boy, your eyes lit up with particles of stars when you saw Ai on the screen. you both watched in silence, admiring the appeal Ai has when performing. eventually, you two were distracted with a familiar whine from the crib.

“N station has already started! Why didn’t you wake me up?!” you have to admit that you didn’t like Ruby at first, but the interests that you two share just now made you want to get to know her more.

she quickly hopped off the crib and sat next to you, all the while squealing and rambling about how remarkable her mom is.

unlike you, Aqua just gave her a look with that neutral expression of his. he seemed too composed for his age, you thought. but you shrugged that thought off.

“Well, I suppose the three of us would be acquaintances considering that we all look up to the same person.” you simply said before fixating your focus back on the TV.

“Do you normally talk like that?” Aqua’s question caught you off guard. ‘shoot. were my words formal? not like it will blow me away anyway, right?’ living on a child’s body completely slipped out of your mind. you just prayed to yourself internally that this boy wouldn’t think of something bizarre.

“Huh? Talk like what?” your attempt at trying to dodge the question was poor. especially the awkward clearing of your throat and the laugh you did that added up to it.

the confusion and skepticism was evident on Aqua’s face, you can’t tell whether he is judging you or just trying to process that hell of a formal usage of words you did. either way, he just stared at you in disbelief for a couple of moments before shrugging it off.

“Looking forward to getting along with you, then.” of course, you were also surprised by his response. but held your tongue back. there’s no way this boy is also a reincarnation of someone simply because of how he talks or acts.

maybe he just learnt how to speak properly at such a young age.

#aqua hoshino #aquamarine hoshino #aqua hoshino x reader #ruby hoshino #oshi no ko #oshi no ko anime #fanfiction #aquamarine hoshino x reader

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mackjlee9 · 1 year

Text

ahem- don't mind me~

König x Male!Reader [Fluff&Lime]

Warning; just me projecting what I want 😬, reader likes having heavy things on top of him, crappy description of takedowns, uhmm lime at the end -just some grinding- you can skip it.

Masterlist.

(M/n) has never seen König as a scary guy, to him the tall Austrian male only seems like a quiet guy, just like himself. Well, until that particular day.

König had been put on recruit training duty, and that was what he was doing, his singular sniper hood on and just some regular clothes for training. The recruits used to be intimidated by him, but with time they realized that König was just scary in size and that he was actually a cuddly bear. Unlike Ghost, who still had to show a softer side of himself.

(M/n) was just done with range practice, and was heading to the training room since he remembered he had forgotten something there the night before. As soon as he walked in through the slightly pushed open door, König giddily jumped at the sight of the (h/c) haired male walking in.

"Oh~! Sergeant, could you come here for a minute?" (M/n) perked up at the sound of König's voice calling for him, and he silently nodded, taking the thing he forgot with him, setting it down on the empty bench against the wall. He noticed every single pair of eyes on him as he approached them, "Well, now! I'll be teaching you one of my favorite grappling takedowns!"

He held (M/n)'s wrist and pulled him closer to the center of the mat, positioning his body in a way to make it look more like an actual fight.

"It'll be easier to understand this way," slowly, König started moving his body around (M/n), and the male let himself be taken down while the Austrian explained what he was doing.

In the end, König was on top of him but not really putting any real weight on (M/n), and soon helping him get up.

"Okay, for real now, Sergeant! Come at me!" (M/n) tried to hold back the smile as he watched König so excited about teaching recruits. It was almost innocent, teaching young soldiers how to break someone's spine on their knee...

Thankfully, that wasn't happening now.

As per König's request, (M/n) ran at him to attack him, the fight was pretty much harmless as the takedown was demonstrated again, but more like the real thing, fighting back and putting up resistance, but soon enough, (M/n) found himself on the floor once again. Only this time, König had pinned him to the mat, his hand gripping both his wrists above his head, his knees pressing on either side of his thighs and feet keeping his legs steady. His free hand was closed in a fist by his neck, as if he was gripping a knife to his throat.

There was nothing weird about this. (M/n) had performed this takedown countless times before, but something about being the one pinned down, with such a big man on top of him...

It felt nice, almost reassuring in a way, feeling his weight on pretty much every part of his body made (M/n) feel unexpectedly safe... and it was extremely hot. Having a thing for bigger men and being in the army was like a dream come true and a torture, at first, he was after Ghost, but he had made it clear he wasn't interested in someone his age, not that (M/n) took offense to that, everyone had their own preferences, and he respected Ghost too much.

"Everyone understood?" König asked while standing up, relieving the pressure on (M/n)'s body -not that he minded the extra weight on him- and extending his hand to help the male stand up. The recruits let out a loud 'Yes, sir!', proceeding to get in pairs and practice the takedown.

König turned to look at (M/n) who had walked back to grab his belonging and seemed only a little bit disoriented.

"Thank you for helping me, Sergent! You're not hurt, are you?" (M/n) looked at the big guy, seeing the concern in his eyes as he looked at him up and down, inspecting his body in search for any kind of injury he might unintentionally have inflicted on him.

"I'm okay, König, see you later, big guy," he said showing him a reassuring smile and walking out after König waved at him.

Physically speaking, (M/n) was unharmed, his body was more than okay but mentally? He just couldn't help but want to feel König's body on his, and acknowledging that made him flustered, rushing back to his quarters.

//////

From that day on, (M/n) has let König take him down during sparring or simply training, his behavior making recruits think he was really weak or König extremely strong. But then they would watch (M/n) actually try or take down soldiers like Soap and Gaz like it was nothing.

The first to catch on to what (M/n) was doing, was Soap, of course it would be his best friend.

And after explaining him this fixation of his where he liked having someone bigger and heavier on top of him made him feel safe, Soap nodded in silence, as if he understood him completely. And that reminded (M/n) how Soap used to pull him on top of him to sleep when it was cold, as if he was a weighted blanket instead of a person.

So yeah, (M/n) was okay with Soap knowing since his best friend was similar to him in a way. Soap only did it because he wanted affection and love.

But just like Soap noticed, König started noticing too.

He wondered whether (M/n) was taking it easy on him because he was still new to the 141, and he ended up getting mad at this misunderstanding, thinking (M/n) was underestimating his fighting abilities by letting him win.

So the next opportunity to fight with him was when (M/n) was showing off moves to the recruits and his improvement as well, like some sort of physical exam. He was paired with König, and the serious look in his eyes made (M/n) slightly flinch at the intensity of it.

"You better take this seriously, Sergeant."

König came at (M/n) with full force, somehow catching him off-guard enough for him to trip but not lose his balance. He didn't think much of it, not until after König got his first takedown on him. It was incredibly painful, and (M/n) realized something was wrong so he took this fight seriously, just as König told him to.

(M/n) did quick movements to break his guard and trip him over. Everyone around saw how easily he defeated such a big man as König. And well, the Austrian male was surprised at that as well, but happy because he finally got taken down by the (h/c) haired Sergeant. König had seen him sparring with Ghost on one occasion, and he has been wanting to have (M/n) fight him with the same enthusiasm and strength.

And he got it.

He had a bright smile hidden by his sniper hood as he realized (M/n) had him pinned to the ground, "Took you long enough, Sergeant~!" He said cheerfully as (M/n) helped him stand up.

(M/n) only looked at him and a small smile tugged on his lips at his playful demeanor, a big difference from his dark aura minutes prior.

//////

Later at night, König found (M/n) outside taking in some of the chill night air. It didn't seem like he was having an internal debate about anything, so König took a few slow steps toward him, but (M/n)'s sharp senses heard him moving, his head looking over his shoulder to see who it was.

"König..." (M/n) watched him as he walk to stand next to him. He was gonna ask him if he needed anything, but König spoke before he could.

"Sergeant, why haven't you fought with me seriously until today?" (M/n) had an internal debate about whether he should tell him or not.

König is a sharp guy, he knows when someone's lying, so maybe thinking of whatever excuse wouldn't work out too well, it would only make him seem like he's hiding something bad.

So he just said it.

"I like it when you're on top of me," his words were said so casually, you would think he was making a comment about the weather.

It caught König so off-guard the poor guy tripped and almost lost his balance, "W-wha-?" His eyes were opened wide, shining under the light of the street lamp.

"It makes me feel safe..." He continued to explain, so as to not freak him out further, but he trailed on, biting his tongue to prevent himself from saying 'kinda horny too.'

Everything was silent after that, and (M/n) sighed, not really regretting what he said, but thinking he could've worded it differently. He glanced at König, who was looking down at the ground.

"I understand if you don't wanna be near me anymore, big guy," he added as he walked past him, heading back to his room to try and get some shut-eye.

//////

Turns out, König didn't find (M/n) weird or disgusting, he found it kinda cute and, with his big size, he has never been comfortable with putting his entire weight on someone else, whether they were his same size or smaller, it was just something he was always wary of, as to not cause any discomfort on anyone. And he had started sort of encouraging it actually.

When it was only him and (M/n), with no one else around, König would go as far as to sit on (M/n)'s lap whenever he offered it -seriously or as a joke-. Of course, at first, it would be a little awkward, but with time they started getting used to it, becoming a sort of habit for them.

König would even stop by (M/n)'s room and lie on his back while the (h/c) haired male mindlessly checked his phone, more than once, König had fallen asleep on him, and (M/n) didn't have the heart to wake him up.

It got to a point where (M/n) would be sitting on the couch, minding his own business while reading a book, the rest of the 141 team chillin' and talking about whatever, and König would sit on (M/n)'s lap, followed by (M/n) nonchalantly wrapping his arms around his waist to continue reading.

No one comments on it, except Soap -of course-.

"So... when did you guys start dat-?" Before he could finish his sentence, Ghost placed his hand over Soap's mouth, muffling his booming voice.

(M/n) looked up when Soap went suddenly quiet. He hadn't quite understood what he wanted to say, but König apparently did.

"We're not~! (M/n) just like my body on top of his," Gaz snorted while Price tried to not spit out his tea, Ghost released a deep sigh while Soap whined disappointed, and (M/n)?

(M/n) pressed his face against König's back, hiding his embarrassed, mortified expression from the prying eyes of his friends and superiors.

//////

Everything that happened has been purely platonic, until König decided to crush (M/n) under his weight, chests pressing together making (M/n) let out a soft grunt, and König... wiggled.

The big Austrian guy was feeling giddy and wouldn't stop moving around because of that, talking (M/n)'s ears off about something he wasn't paying attention to. His lower abdomen pressed on (M/n)'s crotch, making him panic as he felt himself getting hard.

"K-König, stop moving, please..." He whispered as calmly and collected as he could. König only stared down at him with a confused look in his eyes but shook his head playfully, his eyes shining with a hint of mischief.

He kept talking while (M/n) watched him, but he definitely wasn't listening to a single word he said, focusing too much on thinking of something else that wasn't König practically grinding on him.

(M/n) really thought he was being smooth about it, but König had realized, as if couldn't notice something hard pressing below his belly button. He felt flustered about it for a few seconds, without deviating from what he was talking about.

But slowly, König's wiggling changed from moving his whole body around to focusing on simply swaying his hips. (M/n) realized what König did and panicked, trying to push him off before something really awkward happened.

"König, you have to get off, now-" the big guy gripped (M/n)'s wrists and pinned them to the bed, "König-"

"Sorry, Sergeant, but I like it when you're beneath me," (M/n) felt shivers down his spine when König's voice turned an octave lower than his usual cheerful tone, a gasp soon leaving his mouth when he felt König shift his weight enough to press their bulges together.

The pace was slow and hesitant, until (M/n) managed to free his hand from König's grip, holding his hips and helping him grind faster, pressing their bodies as close as they could be.

"Scheiße-" König's voice cut off by a whine, pressing his face on (M/n)'s neck, intertwining their fingers together as he let (M/n) move his hips however he wanted.

Moans and whines escaped their mouths as their movements became rough. Tears filled König eyes at the stimulation that felt too much and too little at the same time, whimpering quietly as he rocked his hips with (M/n)'s help.

"Just like that~, come on, big guy," (M/n) muttered next to his ear, a moan strangled on his throat, "Good boy~," his soft praise made König whimper louder this time, tightly gripping (M/n)'s hand and his shirt with his free hand, his hips stuttering as he felt himself cumming in his clothes, "Fuck..."

(M/n) moved his hips from under König, letting the big guy lay on his body, keeping a tight hold on his hips as he chased his own high as well, the grinding making König whine at the overstimulation he felt surging through his body.

Their ragged breaths were the only sound in the room, their bodies still pressed on each other.

König tried to get up because he was worried about crushing (M/n), but the male didn't let him, wrapping his arm around his waist, and mumbling on his neck.

"Don't move, König, not now..."

#konig x male reader #könig x male reader #konig x reader #könig x reader #cod x male reader #cod mw2 x reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader #fluff #lime #.mackjlee9 writes

2K notes · View notes

pedgito · 2 years

Text

alone, in my mind ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x afab!reader.

summary: so what if eddie munson had a really pretty face, it was just too good not to admire. so what if you liked to draw him in your free time, he definitely didn't mind. yet somehow, tutoring him still felt like the most scandalous thing you've ever done.

cw: 18+ content (minors, shoo!) afab!reader, virgin!reader, graphic smut (including p in v, oral, fingering, and all that jazz), orgasms, this is v dirty i'm sorry.

word count: almost 14k! don't judge me pls, i've been sitting on this for a few weeks.

prompt requests are always open!

alternate ao3 link

There was something therapeutic about sitting alone during lunch, watching chaos take place in front of you; from kids running around the cafeteria, traveling from table to table, conversing among themselves, yelling to each other from across the room, even standing up on tables like a stage and yelling out to the entire high school class. Eddie Munson was an enigma. You couldn’t figure him out. Other than him dealing you weed under the table and the occasional class you had with him, you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to him at one time.

So, he might find it slightly weird that you’ve drawn him in your sketchbook more than a few times. You couldn’t help it, that hair was just too glorious not to draw. But to be fair, you’ve drawn up a lot of the other students without speaking to them. A lot of it was pure observation—a student focused on a book they were reading, a group of the cheerleaders circled up and giggling among themselves, Jason Carver pictured in his actual form, the true evil of Hawkins. Sometimes you liked to draw devil horns on him for fun. No harm, no foul, you didn’t actually mean anything by it—you just hated how much he bolstered himself up at school, despite still paying you to write for his English homework. But hey, you gotta hustle where you can. He left you alone for the most part, anyways.

Once the bell rang and the last few stragglers were leaving the lunch room, you finally gathered your own things. Shoving the last minute homework into your bag and clutching the sketchbook to your chest, you leisurely walked your way to the exit. The sound of your pencil clanging to the floor beneath you had you pausing in your tracks.

Part of you just wanted to leave it, you had enough in your bag that it wouldn’t really matter anyways.

“Hey, this yours?” The voice asked.

You turned slowly, scanning the floor, stopping on the dirtied-up white sneakers that squeaked against the floor as they turned toward you. Of course it has to be Eddie.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You said softly, reaching forward to grab the pencil from him. The silence was apparent now, only the two of you left in the cafeteria.

“No problem.” He laughs slightly, “Oh hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” He leans in, lowering his voice—not that it really mattered since it was only you two, “I got a couple new strains in, if you want to meet up at the usual spot.”

Against your own rational thinking, your mouth spoke before your brain could process. “Sure.” You hadn’t even smoked the last bit of weed he’d sold to you yet.

He smiled, leaving wordlessly.

Sometimes it felt like life was happening around you and you weren’t even present, your body just did and said what it wanted.

“Oh, you fucking idiot.” You spoke to yourself.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Four o’clock. The woods just west of Hawkins High. Picnic table. That’s how you’d set up your meetings from the start. And of course, you were always right on time. Eddie however, he’d get here eventually. At least you hoped. Your shift at the Family Video started in a half hour and not that Keith would even take the chance to fire you, you just hated the idea of being late.

“Come on, Munson.” You grumble to yourself, checking the watch around your wrist. You sigh, sitting your bag on the table to grab your sketchbook, scribbling down a rough version of the wide expanse of trees in front of you.

“I’m late, I know.” A voice startles you from behind. The scream that leaves your mouth is involuntary, but you quickly cover it in an attempt to compose yourself.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie.” You tell him, pulling your hand from your mouth. “You can’t sneak up on people like that!”

“You okay?” He asks, chuckling lightheartedly. The question was genuine, though. The way his eyes connected with yours assured you of so.

“Sure, one tiny heart attack later.” You reply sarcastically.

“Hey, I was loud as fuck walking up.” Eddie says like he's trying to prove it to himself, pointing behind himself briefly. “You completely forget other things exist when you shove your head into that thing.”

You glance down at your book before promptly snapping it shut. “Shut up.” You say, no real bite behind it.

He threw his hands up in defeat. “Hey, just a harmless observation.” Not that you were bothered by him observing, but the fact that he had—it was surprising. He only ever talked about two things, Hellfire Club and D&D, which went hand in hand. But so much so, that he was almost hyper fixated on it.

“Anyways,” you say, shifting the subject. “I’ve got work in thirty—well, about twenty now,”

“Yadda, yadda, yeah—make it quick, I know.” He grins, placing his small chest of goodies on the table. You roll your eyes in annoyance, even if you weren’t really that annoyed in the first place. He slaps two baggies on the table, presenting them like prized possessions.

“Colombian Gold, Northern Lights.” He says, pointing them out individually. “Pick your poison.”

You tilted your head, deciding on which sounded better. Eddie interjects thoughtfully, “Personally, I’m a fan of that sweet, sweet Colombian Gold.”

You laugh quietly, nodding in agreement. “Fine then.”

“Twenty for the ounce.” He says, shoving the leftovers back into the metal chest.

You swing your bag around to dig for the pocket change, shoving your hand inside to grab for your wallet. But, there’s nothing there. Not the familiar chain or zipper that sticks out, nothing.

“Shit, shit.” You say suddenly, beginning to panic. You close your eyes shut, trying to retrace your steps. But it dawns on you, your wallet is probably sitting on your bedside shelf where you left it the night prior, coming back from your late night run to the store after leaving work. “I think I left my wallet at home.”

Eddie ponders for a moment, then shrugs. “Get me when you can, I know you’re good for it.”

You hated the idea of not paying him the money you owed, “I swear I’ll pay today. I can meet up with you after I get out of work or—“

Eddie snorts, walking forward and grabbing a pen that had fallen out of my bag during my wild search. He opens my palm, holding it firmly. He pulls off the cap of the pen, holding it between his teeth as he scribbles something on my hand.

You inspect it closely. It was an address. Eddie caps the pen and hands it back to you. “Can you stop there after work?”

You were apprehensive for a moment, but figured there couldn’t be much harm in it. “Yeah, I can try. I don’t get out until nine, though.”

“Works for me.” He tells you, shoving his hand in his back pocket to adjust the black handkerchief that was shoved in haphazardly. You snorted softly, shoving your things back into your bag as quickly as you could.

“Okay, well—I’ll see you then, I guess—“ You swung back around, coming directly in contact with Eddie’s chest, who hadn’t moved from his spot. Why hadn’t he moved? More importantly, why was he reaching down?

Fuck. You looked down to notice some of the papers from your sketchbook had sprawled out on the ground. You scrambled to gather the drawings back into the pocket of the book, hoping you could avoid another awkward encounter with Eddie today.

But, as luck would have it—“Damn, these are good.” Eddie says suddenly, holding up one drawing in particular, an offhand drawing off Steve while you had some downtime at work.

“Make sure you do my hair justice.” He’d told you. You laughed and smacked him in the back of the head softly.

“Is that Harrington?” He asks.

“…yeah.” You answer, trying not to die of embarrassment.

He glances at you, noticing your discomfort. “Shit, I’m sorry. Here.” Eddie hands the paper over, realizing he may have overstepped.

“Thanks.” You answer, taking the paper from his hand.

“Oh, hey-“ He interrupts, reaching down to grab another page that had fallen under the picnic table seat. “You forgot,” He pauses, looking at it closely, “one.” His voice is soft, thoughtful.

You curse inwardly, trying not to physically facepalm yourself.

“Is that me?” He asks, the smallest smile forming in his face. “Well, at least—-the back of me?”

You stutter for words, your brain suddenly lacking the English language entirely.

“Does my hair really look like that from the back?” He asks playfully, head tilted in curiosity.

“Ms. McNally’s class gets really boring.” You tell him, snatching the paper back. “Like, really boring.”

But no, his head definitely looked like that from the back, despite the unruly curls in his hair, there wasn’t a piece out of place.

“Glad to know the back of my head gives you some entertainment then.” It’s a lame attempt to lighten the mood, but it works. Your thankful his immediate reaction isn’t to find it odd or make fun of you, he almost seemed amused.

“Here.” He finally hands the page over. “No more peeking, I swear.”

You place the page back into your sketchbook carefully. Looking up, Eddie’s still standing there, though looking around aimlessly.

“Eddie, what are you still doing here?” You ask.

“Got another deal going on soon.” He tells you. “Top secret.” And if the wink didn’t make you blush, it was the grin that spread over his features, you shook your head and laughed it off.

“See you at nine, Munson.” You tell him, backpack slung over your right shoulder.

“Can’t wait.” He says playfully.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your bike squealed to a stop outside of Family Video, nearly burning rubber. Clocking in with thirty seconds to spare, you breath a sigh of relief.

“What’s got you riled up?” Steve asks, organizing the Horror section of movies from a few feet away.

“Nothing.” You grumble, setting your bag down and throwing the god awful work vest over your sweater.

“You just missed Keith, by the way.” He adds, shooting you a knowing but amused look.

“Thank god.” Keith had a small obsession with you, not that you were creeped out about it. He was just so hopelessly in love with you, which blinded his ability to see that you had no interest in returning the sentiment. “That’s the last thing I need.”

“It’s the undeniable charm you’ve got.” Steve jokes, shrugging casually. “The ladies and gents love it—right, Robin?”

Like a jack in the box, Robin pops up from where she’s squatted behind the counter.

“Stop teasing her.” Robin warms, throwing a VHS case at Steve’s head. It promptly smacks him in the forehead.

“Ow, what the hell?” Steve shouts, fingers touching his forehead for any sign of injury. Not that there would be any, Robin had barely hit him in the process and Steve was kind of dramatizing things. You’d still consider it one of his more positive traits, even if it did serve as more entertainment to you and Robin than anything.

“No, he’s right.” You play along. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

There’s a beat of silence and then you finally speak up.

“What do you guys make of Eddie Munson?” You asked, grabbing the stack of returned rentals to be checked through.

“The dude who’s been held back twice? Doesn’t he have that weird after school group thing he does?” Steve asks, looking between you and Robin.

“Yes.” You nod. “It’s a D&D club, Steve. Not a cult.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly. “He always seemed off to me.”

“Yeah and you were prancing around with Tommy and Carol most of junior year.” You reminded him. “Don’t you remember when Tommy hit me on my bike with his car during Spring Break? During that giant party he had at his house?”

Steve immediately looked regretful at judging Eddie.

“Thank god you found Robin.” You tell him, trying to make Steve feel less guilty about it all. Tommy had always been jealous of Steve, but Carol and her constant snarky remarks always egged Tommy on.

“Yeah!” Steve cheers, reaching over to high five Robin. She scoffs in annoyance, leave Steve’s unanswered high five hanging in the air.

“We both love chicks and boobies, it works out great.” Steve adds, returning hand to his side.

“He’s still learning.” Robin says quietly, leaning over toward you. “Why are you asking about Eddie anyways? Doesn’t he deal weed to the students?”

You shot Robin a knowing look.

“Oh. Oh.” She catches on. “Well, did something happen between you two?”

“No. Nothing, really. I just have to meet up with him after work and was wondering if I should be worried.” Robin didn’t seem to question as to why you would need to meet up with, which made you grateful.

“He doesn’t seem like that type of guy. Not to me, at least.” Robin assures, lowering her voice as the entrance bell jingled, signaling a customer. “But, you could always take your pocket knife with you.”

Your mouth dropped open at the suggestion, but to be fair, Robin just wanted to make sure you felt safe.

“Yeah—murder first, ask questions later.” You retort playfully.

“You’ve been watching too many scary movies with Steve.” Robin tells you.

“Hey, don’t knock ‘em til you try ‘em!” Steve says, greeting the customer as they walk by.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

You locked up for the night as soon as you could, making the short trek to your bike behind the back of the Family Video store. You pulled the small piece of paper you had scribbled on earlier, the address Eddie had left earlier started to smudge about an hour into your shift and you didn’t want to take any chances that it could last. And luckily, your mother had dropped your wallet off in the process of making her way to work that night, which was a lifesaver. The idea of biking home and then to Eddie’s made your legs hurt at the very possibility.

It was a ten minute bike ride away from the store, leading you down a long road that led to a dimly lit trailer park. The uneasiness set in immediately.

As if on cue, one of the poorly lit lamps sprinkled throughout the residence flickered a couple times before going out completely.

“Great. This is how I die.” You say to yourself, double checking the number on the paper so it matched with the trailer you were riding up to.

Everything seemed normal, the lights were on inside. Aside from the totally barren mobile home and Eddie’s truck parked in the driveway, nothing felt too grim about the whole situation. Normally, you’d be in a rush to get home and relax, but you knew your parents didn’t care one way or another, as long as you came home in one piece.

You sighed, stepping off and leaning your bike against the deck. If it wasn’t for the muffled music playing inside the trailer, you would assume whoever was there had left but forgot to turn their lights off. You reach forward to knock tentatively on the flimsy screen door.

There’s a rustling from the back of the home, the sudden silence of music being turned off, then a twisting of the doorknob as the door creaked open.

“Well, well, well.” Eddie says, grinning at you through the screen door. “I didn’t think you’d ever show.”

“It’s only five after nine, Eddie.” You tell him, reaching around into your bag to make things quick.

“It was just a—nevermind,” He mumbles quietly to himself, “Whatcha got for me, princess?”

You curled your head to the side subtly, but didn’t think anything of the harmless and playful endearment. Save it, bookmark it, stow it away for later. You slide him the twenty, he eyes it for a moment. “You know,” he begins, arm resting against the trim of the door, “I’d take that drawing of me over the twenty if you’re willing to fork it over.”

“Are you serious?” You ask, hand frozen in place from where Eddie was hanging onto the bill.

“Deadly.” He tells you, tongue smoothing over the teeth that showed through his grin.

You debated, not sure why he was so interested in the first place.

“Why don’t you want the money?” You ask.

“You’ve bought enough from me, I think that warrants a little discount.” He shrugs, like it wasn’t a big deal at all.

“You’re so weird, Munson.” You reply, pulling out the sketchbook and handing the drawing over.

“Got anymore?” He asks jokingly, albeit a little curious.

“I’ll let that remain a mystery, thank you.” You tell him, snapping the book closed. He holds the drawing up to the light, watching him scan over it admiringly.

“It’s really good, you know. You probably draw a lot of kids at school, don’t you?” He asks and you’re not sure where his sudden interest in conversation with you is coming from. Both of you didn’t interact outside of deals—this reality almost didn’t feel tangible.

“Sometimes.” You answer skeptically, “Not all the time, though.”

“We’ll, I’m honored.” He says, noting one of the small details in the background. “Did you make Ms. McNally resembles a hobbit on purpose?”

You snorted at that. It was something, in hindsight, that you’d completely forgotten about. “She was really pissing me off that day.”

“Nice.” He laughs to himself, finally setting the drawing down on a table out of view. “Anyways, don’t worry about the twenty. You’re covered.”

“You really don’t have to do that, Eddie. I can pay.” You felt guilty at the thought, but Eddie seemed pretty serious about the whole ordeal.

“Nope. We’re good.” He tells you, flashing you his trademark smile. He still hadn’t changed his school earlier, brandishing his Hellfire Club tee proudly.

“Okay,” You draw out, dragging the last letter a bit. “Well, I’ll see you at school tomorrow then.”

“Aye, aye.” He replied in mock salute, coming to stand at attention.

You couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the act, it was undeniably goofy, but adorable in its own right. He shut the door slowly, waving you a sweet goodbye as he finally disappeared.

And despite all efforts, there was one giant fucking elephant in the room that you couldn’t ignore–because not only was Eddie devastatingly beautiful, he was charming as hell, which was something you had overlooked for far too long.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Stupid. Fucking. Lockers.” You grumble to yourself, slamming the locker shut with every word. It was as if the world was setting you up for the shittiest day possible. It started with you sleeping through your alarm, burning the toast you’d made for breakfast, and somehow managing to spill orange juice all over your jeans in the small span of an hour–so not only were you on your second pair of jeans, you were ready to slam your head against the locker in defeat, ready to be put out of this complete, utter misery that had been your Friday morning.

“Woah, woah.” The voice carried down the hall, you peeked behind you.

Eddie Munson was heading right for you. You turned and sighed, slamming the locker again for good measure.

“Lucky for you, I’ve got just the touch.” Eddie assures you, wiggling his fingers in your face.

You tried to ignore every flipping feeling in your stomach at the sight of it.

It took him a second, but he swiftly lifted the locker door in a quick motion and slammed it close, that time for good. He’s smiling down at you–again, with that annoying, shit-eating grin.

“No. Don’t even start.” You tell him, finger pointing accusingly. “My morning has been horrible. I don’t need jokes, right now.”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to walk to English together?” He replied, looking slightly defeated. “If that’s okay?”

“Oh.” You frowned. It still didn’t feel right to be conversing in front of your peers, like it was almost illegal. “I mean, I don’t see why not. But, Eddie–”

“Yep?” He asks, turning on his heels. You both had English together, which most of the time, was spent staring directly at the back of his head because you couldn’t be bothered to listen to Ms. McNally’s grating voice for more than a few minutes at a time.

“Why are you talking to me?” You ask, genuine and honest. There had never been any reason not to before, but why now?

“You seemed a little scary–well, not scary, scary–but like, she could definitely break my fingers if I said the wrong thing to her–that type of scary.” He explains in one breath, fiddling with the rings on his right hand.

Fair enough, considering the pocket knife you did carry in your bag for instances like that. There were too many assholes and you had plenty of ways to deal with them.

“Ah.” You replied, as if it all made sense. “Well, the jury's still out.”

“I’ll try and remember that.” He tells you, laughing slightly. “I also just wasn’t sure you liked talking to anyone from school–I mean I get that, but I just wanted to make sure you knew that you don’t have to sit alone at lunch like you do–”

“I don’t mind it–” You interject.

“I know. I’m just saying. Our table wouldn’t mind. The guys usually don’t know how to talk to girls, so most of them don’t say anything anyways.” He assures you.

The friendliness caught you off-guard. It seemed genuine, but you were also waiting for the catch.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

The teacher slaps the graded test onto your desk, brandishing a bright red A. You quickly shove it under your textbook, glancing up as you hear the rustling of Eddie swiveling around to face you from his seat.

“All good?” You ask, mostly in an attempt to be friendly. But, you can’t help but notice the giant circled F on his paper. You’d heard lots of stories about Eddie and his inability to pass, being held back, and every lousy nickname that came along with that. People liked to pick on Eddie because he was different, he didn’t fit in with anyone at Hawkins, and while you might be able to get away with slipping under the radar–Eddie couldn’t.

“I could tutor you, you know.” You suggest, instantly regretting the words the moment they leave your mouth.

“Seriously?” He asks, looking caught off guard. “I appreciate it but–”

“Seriously.” You say, “English is my best subject and as long as you put in the same effort I am, I could at least get you up to a C.” In for a penny, in for a pound…I guess.

“That’s–yeah, that’s cool. I’m kinda busy with Hellfire most days though–” He starts, rolling the paper up in his hands. It was a small detail, but you noticed how often he used his hands when he liked to fidget, whether it be his rings or a poor piece of paper being strangled to death.

“Weekends are good.” You assure him. “I work a lot during that week so I wouldn’t have time anyways.”

Eddie nods slowly. He seemed apprehensive, like he didn’t really deserve the help you were offering. His jaw was clenched, eyes downcast.

“Eddie, I don’t mind.” You told him, offering a small smile to ease whatever worry he was feeling. “It's just–we’ll have to study at your place though, not mine.”

You didn’t even want to begin to explain the ordeal to your parents, as understanding as they may be–any site of a boy and your parents would be seething at the idea.

“My uncle is gone most of the time, so I guess that works out.” He shrugs.

The sound of the teacher clearing her throat from a few rows over interrupts you both. You roll your eyes inconspicuously, turning in your chair.

Eddie taps your leg softly, having already turned around in his chair. You look underneath the desk to find a small piece of paper between his thumb and middle finger. Prying it from his fingers.

You unfold it quietly, fingers smoothing over the creases in the paper. 'Tmrw at 4?' It read it dark blue ink. His handwriting wasn’t as messy as you expected, you quickly scribbles a ‘Yep :)’ adding the smiley face for fun. Maybe this was a good thing, you could make it a good thing. Helping someone bump their grade and maybe make a friend in the process—what’s the worst thing that could happen?

You slid the paper over his shoulder, ignoring the way his fingertips brushed against yours. You didn’t see him unfold the paper, but the way his shoulder shook with silent laughter was a good sign. He pocketed the paper for safekeeping.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, but what you couldn’t see was the same smile that Eddie shared with you.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

The cafeteria was already packed by the time you had arrived, the hustle and bustle of kids grabbing their food and chit chatting like it was musical chairs was enough to drive you insane. You quickly ducked your head, attempting to make your way to your usual spot in the corner of the lunch room.

The hand that grabs your wrist stops you in your tracks. There’s a moment where you’re ready to swing back in retaliation.

“Hey, want to sit with us?” He asks. He was really starting to throw you off.

The idea of going from speaking in short, clipped—and sometimes one word answers, to full fledged conversations was not something you were used to. The only two people you talked to that much, outside of your parents, was Robin and Steve. And maybe Steve was a cop out, you two practically grew up together, toppling over each other as babies.

“Uh, I don’t know—“ You begin, but the bellowing, boisterous voice of Dustin Henderson overpowers your own.

“Steve graduated already, you gotta make new friends eventually.”

That little fucking twerp. Him and Steve together in one place was a nightmare.

“I will murder you, Henderson. Don’t try me.” You threatened.

“You wouldn’t.” He counters.

“Try me.” You quirk your eyebrow. “Remember what Steve told you about summer of ‘84?”

Your voice was lowered, but it didn’t seem like anyone was paying any attention, aside from the people sitting at Eddie’s table. It was like they had front row tickets to the most talked about movie in town. Dustin’s eyes widened in fear.

“He also told me about that time you two—“ You quickly shoved your hand over his mouth, stopping him from saying what was possibly the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done. He muffled the rest of whatever he was saying into your hand.

“Don’t you dare.” You say seriously, fingers pinching the tip of his ear. His hands fly up, signaling his white flag of defeat.

“You’re so mean sometimes.” He whines, rubbing his tender ear.

“You’ll live, Henderson.” You assure him, bumping him aside with your hip to take a seat.

Eddie had been watching with intrigued amusement the entire time, not sure how well you and Dustin actually knew each other until now. And apparently, it was entirely too much.

“Not gonna eat?” Eddie asks, noticing your lack of a lunch tray.

“I hate big crowds. I usually just wait until everyone sits down.” You say softly, setting your bag on your knees to rest your arms on.

“Here.” Eddie says, sliding his uneaten apple and bag of carrots over like it was a game of poker and he was dividing up his chips. “For now, at least.”

“I’m fine, honestly.” You laugh lightheartedly, but take the fresh fruit and vegetable anyway.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your halfway through lunch when you lock eyes with Jason, who’s practically burning eyes into your skull. He motions toward the door leading to the back of the school, hoping you’d get the signal.

It made him look ridiculous more than anything. You’d already planned to meet up with after lunch earlier on in the week, but Jason never seemed like he was focused on anything other than basketball or Chrissy—which fair, Chrissy was a great girl.

You leave without much of a word, other than a smile and a pat on Dustin’s shoulder, hoping he’d get the message. He knew just as much as Steve did about your arrangement with Jason, considering Dustin and Steve were practically conjoined twins, at this point. He clears his throat, distracting Eddie with something about their meeting tonight so you could sneak away without worry.

When you’re finally outside, Jason is pacing, not nervously, but definitely impatiently. “You got it?” He asks.

You pause, “…Yeah.” You answer him, pulling the midterm paper out of your bag and handing it over, he quickly snatches it away and slides you over the money he promised.

“Jesus, Jason. This isn’t a drug deal. Chill out.” You finally find the courage to say.

“If anyone finds out about this, I could lose my chance at any type of scholarship, you know?” He tells you, and you don’t even want to begin to hear his sob story. His parents could buy his way into any school he wanted, though you appreciated his poor attempt to manage it himself.

“Hmm, well maybe—just maybe, you shouldn’t be asking people to write your papers for you then.” You snark back, zipping your backpack closed aggressively for good measure. “Figure this shit out yourself, Jason. I’ve got work, my own school stuff, and plenty of other shit to worry about. I don’t need you hounding me for a paper that you could finish on your own in a night if you actually took the time.”

“But basketball is my priority.” He tells you, you join in to mock him at the same time.

“Fuck off, Jason.” Enough was enough. Jason was nothing but a problem, even after all the pain and embarrassment he’d put you through a couple years prior. “Ask your perfect, pretty little girlfriend to do the work for you.”

And for once, he finally looked defeated. But, he was smart in not responding. He shoved his way past you, making his way back inside. You don’t remember how the arrangement between you two started initially, or why you fell pity to him after the stunt he pulled a couple years ago—you figured you were more desperate for the money at the time, sacrificing and swallowing your pride in the process. But now? Fuck that.

You could just ditch the rest of the day, which didn’t sound entirely too awful, but it was rash and you didn’t like to act on impulse, which you’d been doing entirely too much of lately.

“Pull it together.” You remind yourself before forcing yourself through the rest of what was already a horrible day.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Steve tagged along to lock up with you tonight, considering you two had plans to hang out tonight and he had picked you up from school that evening as a favor.

“What’s got you so tense?” He asks, swinging his keys around his pointer finger.

“Everything.” You sigh through clenched teeth, outwardly groaning as you take a seat in Steve’s car. “God, my feet are killing me.” You quickly toe your shoes off on the floorboard of his car and curl your legs up criss cross.

“Care to elaborate?” He pushes, backing out of the parking lot to pull out on the main road. “Everything is just like a blanket statement, you know. You know I’m never gonna repeat anything you tell me to anyone, ever.”

“Except Dustin.” You remind him.

“Okay, that was fair game. You told him some embarrassing stuff about me. I couldn’t just stand there and watch.” He laughs, you try to hold back your own laughter but it bubbles out soon after.

“It’s just—the shit with Jason, trying to keep up with school, my parents hounding me all the time, and then I promised Eddie I would help him with English—which, you know how my motor mouth works, once I get an idea it just comes out, it’s impossible to stop it.” And god was that a fucking breath of relief to finally let out.

“You’re still doing Jason’s schoolwork?” He asks, slightly disappointed in you. It was understandable, he hated him just as much as you.

“Only the important stuff. Essays, the higher graded stuff, you know. It’s easy money.” You tell him, but it sounds like a lousy excuse.

“Let’s not forget he embarrassed you in front of the entire basketball team and cheerleaders last year.”

“Which was partly your responsibility, Steve.” You remind him. But, it was so far in the past that you couldn’t be mad at him. Holding a grudge against Steve was like hating your own brother and you couldn’t do it. Your gut was pointing to every possible sign to say no to Jason, but Steve gave you the push you’d needed that night.

“I thought it was genuine. I’m sorry.” Steve tells you, you could see the way he paused, swallowed, thinking back on the memory.

“Anyways. I’m just stressed. Not that I can’t handle it, but Eddie’s been acting unnaturally friendly with me and it’s kind of giving me weird vibes.” You admit, like trusting Eddie was just too good to be true. Not weird in the way that made you want to run in the opposite direction, but the way that made your stomach clench in anticipation—and occasionally your thighs. Eddie had always been attractive, but only from a distance.

“Just keep your guard up, that’s always the best option.” He says honestly. “Not that you don’t already have the personality of a brick wall.”

You promptly hit Steve in the shoulder, watching him yell and reach for the spot where you’d landed the blow. “Ouch!”

“I'm not that boring you pompous ass!” You replied in playful disbelief. Steve slowly pulled into the driveway of his home, gradually letting the car come to a stop.

“Have you ever heard yourself talk?” He asks, voice teasing.

“And I sound like I have the voice of a thousand fucking angels, Harrington.” You assure him, shoving him to the side as you both raced to the front door.

“You mean a thousand fucking gremlins.”

You gasped outwardly, caught entirely off guard by his response. “Steve!”

⋆·˚ ༘ *

You wake up Saturday morning with everything Steve had told you fresh in your mind.

No getting too close. Don’t talk about anything personal. Take the arrangement for what it was. Studying, that was it. You rarely got nervous around boys, but Eddie, you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Which was exactly why your heart was pounding out of your chest as you knocked on his front door. You silently prayed he’d answer the door quickly, the sweltering sun doing nothing to help your pale skin. You pulled your shorts down where they had ridden up on the bike ride here, the unnecessary sweater covering your plain tee proving to be nothing but a giant heat trap.

“Princess.” There it was again, the soft tone in his voice and the teasing smile that painted his face. “Welcome to the Munson residence, once again.”

“I’m dying out here.” You deadpan, hiking your bag up higher over your shoulder.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie fumbles with the door knob, swinging the door open. “Come in.”

You quickly step inside, watching as he closes the door behind you. It wasn’t much cooler, but it was definitely a welcomed change from the heat outside.

“You know, the sweater might be your problem.” He says as he makes his way beside you, leading you toward the back room. “Not that I’m judging, I’m just sure you’d suffer from heatstroke if I left you out there another five minutes.”

“And then I’d come back and haunt the shit out of you.” It was a lame attempt at a joke, but the response from Eddie has you snapping back into defense mode.

“Promise?” Your cheeks burn a dark shade of crimson, which you lamely attempt to hide by turning to dig into your bag and fish out some of your English notes and one of the books the class was currently focusing on.

“I figure we should probably go over the paper from the other day, so I could explain what you got wrong and why, if you don’t mind?” You change the subject entirely, taking a seat on his bed. It smelt like fresh linen, it was made neatly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t that. Even you didn’t take as much time to make your bed that often, at least not as neatly as this. To each their own though—maybe Eddie was a bit of a neat freak, not that you minded.

“Sure.” He agrees, taking a seat on his bed beside you, although a comfortable distance away. You could appreciate him respecting boundaries, even if you could still smell the cologne he was wearing, not that it was distracting…at all.

His interest is genuine as you explain through the test, even if much of it isn’t sticking with him, he’s still asking questions and staying engaged more than you anticipated. Even you were ready for a break after an hour of endless talk of metaphors in literature and the re-explaining of Macbeth in detail.

“My fucking brain hurts.” Eddie sighs, laying down, hands crossed over his stomach. You try not to stare at the small patch of hair at the end of his stomach, leading down just past the tip of his belt. Or the way his surprisingly toned stomach stretches against the shirt he’s wearing—which was just a plain, black shirt, surprisingly enough. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen him without any type of Hellfire or metal band shirt on his body. Not that you noticed. Not at all.

Your brain finally stutters back awake at the feeling of his finger poking your thigh. “Huh?” You asks.

“I said, if you’re hot you can take off the sweater—that really can’t be comfortable.”

He was right, it wasn’t. But part of it was because it was like a safety blanket. Also, it was just one of your favorites. You let your brain run on autopilot, slipping it over your head. You tried not to think much of it, thankful your shirt was baggy enough that it didn’t reveal to much of you. Even if your shorts were scandalous in their own right. You had to pick and chose your battles.

You toss the sweater onto his nightstand, noting the paper that falls to the floor as a result. Your drawing, he’s moved into his room, at least. Which was both comforting and odd. You couldn’t understand the interest he’d had in it in the first place, but you weren’t really in a place to question it.

“I’ve been meaning to tape it up somewhere.” He mentions, noticing the way you stared at the lonely piece of a paper. “Not that my wall isn’t already covered in stuff.”

It was the first time you’d actually found the chance to take it all in. Posters, an amp—Eddie definitely came across as a guitar guy, so there wasn’t much surprise there, nightstands littered with random crap—your eyes immediately snapped toward the cuffs on the wall and quickly glanced over. There was no way you were touching on that topic, no fucking way.

“I’d be honored.” You joke, tapping your pencil against your notebook.

“Do you take it with you everywhere?” He asks curiously. “That sketchbook, I mean. I’ve never seen you without it until now.” He laughs innocently, adjusting himself to lean up and back onto his outstretched arms.

“It’s…in my bag.” You say quietly, almost embarrassed at the fact that he read through you so well.

“Can I see some other stuff?”

If there was a way to make you go into cardiac arrest with one sentence, Eddie Munson had found it.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to. I just think it’s cool. At least, from what I’ve seen.” He says openly, gesturing toward the drawing you had given him.

“They’re really not that good, a lot of them are just rough sketches and—I mean, you might find this weird but—“ Don’t mention that fact that you totally draw him a lot—like he won’t notice it the second he opens the book. You had a valid excuse, you just didn’t want to come across as a total creep.

“Just show me.” He smiles, nudging your leg again.

You reach for the book buried in your bag and hand it over. There wasn’t any shame behind the stuff in there, but the way everyone perceives art is so different that the idea of any type of comment or criticism was your worst nightmare.

He flips through slowly, landing on the particular one of Jason you drew from a few days prior. “Now that one’s spot fucking on.” He chuckles to himself, the tiny little devil horns was a nice detail, he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did in the process of drawing it out.

He flips through the next few pages, nodding silently. The anticipation driving a hole through your chest, you couldn’t even comprehend why you were doing this right now. Every single thing that Steve told you flew right out of the window.

He flips another page and you interrupt quickly, “Before you say anything. You have a great hair for drawing, I don’t mean for it to come off as weird but it’s honestly helped me improve a lot.”

“No, no.” He shrugs, “I dig it. I guess I’m kinda your muse, in a way.”

That’s definitely not where you expected that to go. Actually, it was completely left field. So many miles away from where you planned.

“Not exactly.” You assure him. “I just—your hair is really distracting in class. And your side profile is really nice—“ You can feel yourself starting to ramble, the giant Cheshire grin on Eddie’s face only making things worse. “I’m just going to shut up before I embarrass myself more.”

Eddie closes the book and hands it over gingerly, “I really don’t mind. I’m serious.” He means it, you know that. “It’s fucking ridiculous how detailed you are.”

“I-“ You laugh softly, “nevermind. Thank you. Just…thanks, Eddie.”

You were so pleased in the fact that if there was anyone to see your work, someone you considered more of a stranger than a friend, like Robin or Steve, that it was Eddie.

“Anyways, we should probably, you know, get back to work.” You interject after a while of awkward silence, not sure how to move on from the topic.

“Cool with me.” He nods.

The next couple hours pass quickly, finally packing up your stuff after the long tangent Eddie went off on about D&D and the inner workings of it, which was a lot more interesting than you expected.

“Oh hey, you ever get to try out the weed I gave you the other day? It’s pretty damn sweet, right?” He says handing you the pencil you’d lended him.

“Actually, I haven’t.” You admitted. “I’ve been so busy with work that I completely forgot.”

He holds the joint between his fingers like he’d been keeping it stowed away for safekeeping, waiting for the right moment.

“My parents are going to ground me for life if I come home high.” Okay, it was a bit of an over exaggeration, but still buried in truth, nonetheless. “Let alone even smelling like weed.”

“Do you not realize who you’re talking to?” Eddie asks, he tried to seem offended, but it definitely came off as more of a joke. “Come on, miss perfect. We can just smoke it outside.”

You scoff in annoyance, knowing you were far from any type of perfect. “I have to be home in an hour, Eddie. If you get me in trouble with my parents, I swear to god.”

“I know—you’ll murder me and bury me in your backyard.” He jokes, knowing it’s all mostly playful. “Then I’ll come back to haunt your ass.”

You chuckle, your own words coming back to bite you. “Promise?” You ask, in an attempt to one up him.

You weren’t really expecting a response, but he gave you one anyway. “Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.” Eddie teases, bumping his shoulder against yours.

You smiled to yourself, adoring the way that Eddie charmed himself out of any situation with ease. He lit up the joint on the short walk to the wooded area away from his home, safe from any random bystanders that may decide to wander by.

“First hit?” He asks, handing it over to you,

“Such a gentleman.” You reply, hand over your heart. You took a long hit, inhaling until your lungs couldn’t take it and the slight burn lingered in the back of your throat, breathing out slowly through your nose.

For the first time, the silence is comforting. You pass the joint back and forth wordlessly until there’s practically nothing left.

“The stars are so pretty here.”

“Yeah.” Eddie answered after a while, staring directly at you.

You tried to ignore it, the heat of his gaze burning into the side of your face.

“The deeper you get into the city, the less you can really see.”

He hummed to himself, “Totally.”

He hadn’t heard a word you said, too focused on the way you were mindless focused on the sky, mesmerized by something so simple.

“God, I don’t think I’ve ever been this high.” You sigh to yourself, feeling like you were having an out of body experience. Your body didn’t feel like you own, even these clothes felt foreign, the way you ran your fingertips over them. “You’re a really bad influence, Eddie.”

You finally lock eyes with him after a few minutes. He was in a complete daze, high out of his mind–you weren’t even sure if he was still on the same planet as you, which obviously, but there was no way he was leaving this picnic table without some assistance. You take a quick glance at your watch, feeling yourself jump back into reality almost immediately.

“Shit, I’m so dead.” You panic, clumsily placing your feet on the ground–any faster and you probably would’ve twisted your ankle. “I have to go, right now.”

“I can give you a ride, if you need it.” Eddie suggests, but it’s far, far–literally a galaxy away, from the safer option of biking home high.

“I need to ride off the smell anyway, I’ll manage.” You tell him, rather than declining his offer outright. You hesitate for a moment before lending your hand out, gripping his in an effort to pull him up.

“No smoke sessions tomorrow, Eddie. I’m serious.” You point an accusing finger at him, watching as he follows it, then looks up at you with his stupid, dopey smile. “I’m fucking serious.”

Super duper serious. Strictly business from this point forward.

“Fine.” He agrees in defeat, finding his own footing. “But, I’ll definitely feel like an ass if you don’t let me drive you home.”

There was no way Eddie could even put a coherent thought together right now.

“I’ll be fine. I swear.” You tell him, smiling sweetly. He didn’t seem like the type to push back thankfully and dropped the argument there. “See you tomorrow, Munson.”

You leave in a rush, blinded by the idea of having to explain any of this to your parents, and only once you’re home, after a very bumpy, sobering ride–you realize the one very important thing you left behind–your school bag.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

It shouldn’t be something you were worried about, Eddie had already looked through the one possession you were most insecure about–but still, the idea of being thrown so far off your game that you would leave your bag behind was enough to have you showing up at Eddie’s trailer bright and early, the morning dew still stuck to the grass and the birds chirping away at nothing.

You should have figured Eddie wouldn’t be fully dressed when he answered the door, but you weren’t really sure what you were expecting exactly. Still, the door creaking open and revealing a half naked Eddie, boxer-briefs leaving little to imagine–your eyes immediately snap back from where they’d lingered, because nothing about Eddie seemed little, not in the way he was towering over you, right now. Was he really that tall? Huh.

“What can I do for you on this fine–” He begins, voice still fighting through sleep, a yawn escaping him.

“I left my bag last night.” You blurt out. “I just need it back.”

It all seemed ridiculous, in hindsight—showing up like this.

“Uh, yeah–” He looks around, trying to gain his bearings. “It’s on my bed–I think.”

He nods in the direction of said bedroom, swinging the door open to welcome you inside. You side-stepped wide enough to avoid his shirtless chest, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like you were literally going to burst into flames at the slightest touch. Whatever high you had last night was gone, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that you still found Eddie attractive, sober or not.

You move around silently, flipping his blankets around to dig for your bag. He’s standing in the hallway now, just outside the doorway that leads to his room. His arms crossed over his chest tightly, still desperately attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Eddie Munson was nowhere near a morning person, but that made perfect sense in hindsight.

“Gotcha!” You celebrate quietly, throwing the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask—” His voice startles you, “how do you know Henderson?”

It was a weird way to start a conversation, but Eddie wasn’t one to dwell on semantics on proper conversation starting.

“Him and Steve are a package deal.” You explain, like it was the cure all.

“Oh.” You can see the gears turning in his head. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”

“I’ve known Steve since I was in diapers.” You admit, finally catching his gaze. “We’ve been friends for a really long time.”

“So that stuff at lunch the other day–” You had managed to push that so far out of your mind that you were surprised Eddie had even remembered. He was a curious person, you couldn’t really blame him, but the thought of explaining any of it to him was the last thing on your mind.

“Long story.” You laugh it off, feeling eager to escape now. “Anyways, I’ll be over at four. Is that still good for you?” You ask.

He nods silently, angling his body to let you through–because god, why was this hallway so fucking tiny? You clear your throat and quickly move past him, practically jogging toward the door. The faster you escape, the better.

“Later, Princess.” He adds–and you bite down on nothing but air, teeth clenched. He was trying to be coy and you knew it.

“Bye, Eddie.” You reply, lamely attempting to force the nervousness out of your voice. You’ve never forced your legs to pedal so fast in your life, feeling like jello by the time you arrived home.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Why the fuck do they talk like that?” Eddie asks, looking up at you from where he was stretched out on his bed, legs kicked up lazily behind. The soft sound of a random rock song you don’t know the name of playing on the radio to fill in as ambient noise.

“It’s archaic and prose.” You answer simply. “It makes a lot more sense the more you read it.”

“Well, I needeth a break, M’lady.” He jokes, forced accent and all.

“That actually wasn’t bad.” You admit, closing the book that you’d place between you both.

At some point, you’d ended up in a similar position, sprawled out beside Eddie, head resting in the palm of your hand.

“Not to boost your ego or anything, but you’re a pretty good tutor.” Eddie says, twirling the pencil between his fingers slowly.

“Whatever.” You shrug off lightheartedly.

And you can feel the impending question before it even leaves his mouth–blame it on your amazing intuition, but Eddie was also incredibly predictable sometimes.

“You want to know what Dustin and I were talking about during lunch, don’t you?” You ask, eyeing him carefully.

He shrugs, “I’m just a little curious, I guess.”

Fair enough. It might feel good to get off your chest anyways–not to mention half the school already knew about the instance.

“Jason asked me to meet up with him during that back to school bonfire they were having, right before Junior year–you remember? Anyways, I talked to Steve about it. He kinda pushed me toward it initially, he was the only reason I even went–I used to have a huge crush on Jason–horrible, now that I think about it. To make a long story short, he made this whole elaborate show about how he liked him and I ended up half naked in front of him, standing on the dock at his parent’s lake house, but the entire basketball and cheer team watched the entire thing happen. I didn’t realize until I heard them laughing from the bushes. There’s a picture, somewhere, I’m sure–I just try to block it out of my memory.” You explain slowly, enough time had passed that you could think about it without bursting into tears from embarrassment, but it was still terrifying to say out loud. “Steve felt really bad about all of it. I know he didn’t know any of that was going to happen, but I just took a lot of my frustration out on him.”

Eddie was eerily quiet, like he was attempting to soak all the information in. You tried not to gauge his reaction too much, knowing that pity was a normal reaction from most people.

“And then,” You say on a deep breath, “Steve and I got really drunk and made out and it was fucking weird. We joke about it now, but it was just…a lot of mistakes in one night, so I try to forget about it.”

“Good to know that Jason’s still a total dick.” He adds, not like that wasn’t already obvious. “I can’t believe you made out with Harrington.”

You want to gag at the long, distanced memory. “It wasn’t my best moment.” You agree.

“So, yeah–Dustin knows a couple secrets about me. And now you do–but if you tell anyone–Eddie–”

“I won’t.” You can see the seriousness on his face, coming from his voice.

“Swear?” You ask

“Pinky swear.” He answers, holding up his ringed pinky finger. You hesitate for a second before wrapping your own pinky finger around his.

He doesn’t let go. But to be fair, neither do you. He’s looking at you, not ogling, but admiring–although, it definitely could’ve been interpreted as him checking you out. You avert your attention to the intricate design of the ring on his finger, making some attempt to break the heavy, thick blanket of tension that had fallen over the both of you. It wasn’t like you’d never laid in bed with a boy before–you could lay and talk with Steve for hours, but Steve didn’t look at you the way Eddie did, not ever.

You clear your throat softly, twisting the ring with the few fingers that weren’t interlocked with his, both of your hands now resting against the soft duvet. “Is that a pig?” You ask lightheartedly. The answer never comes.

Instead, “Can I kiss you?” Eddie asks, almost too timid to be his own voice.

Your mouth hangs open for a half second, before you force yourself to pull it together. And you’re pretty sure your heart was making a desperate attempt at beating its way out of your chest. You nod slowly, leaning forward before you can even think about stopping yourself.

His lips were soft, gentle–but firm in the way they pressed against yours. You only had a couple other experiences to compare this too, but it was obvious that Eddie had confidence in his own abilities. You pulled back after a few seconds, wetting your lips nervously. Eddie followed the way the tip of your tongue dragged over them, the heat from the breathy exhale he let out fanning over your face.

“You never answered my question.” You say softly, eyes flicking up to look at him. His gaze still locked on your lips, you repeat yourself once more, this time calling him out directly. “Eddie, you never answered my question.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a pig.” He says, eyes finally locking with yours. “It’s a stupid fucking pig.” His voice is strained, breathy–and you’re just as sure as he is in the fact that you can’t believe this is even happening.

And even if you may end up regretting the decision later, you decide to put him out of his misery. Letting go of his hand completely, hand settling and finding a place to call home against the back of his neck, you pull him forward. He grunts slightly, almost inaudible as you press your lips against his own, more delicate than he had. In the way that he was entirely too sure of himself, you had restraint, hesitance. You let a long, breathy sigh and try to ignore the way your body shivers with nervousness and anticipation.

Eddie takes the opportunity to find his way past your lips, teasingly dragging his tongue against your own. Your brain could literally short circuit at the thought of his mouth being anywhere else on your body, even now you could feel yourself screaming internally and if you weren’t so goddamn turned on, you probably would just scream out loud.

His hand found your waist at some point, playing with the frayed fabric attached to the bottom of your shirt, kissing you fervently, playfully–and like the tease he’s proven to be, he bites down on your bottom lip gently, for good measure.

“Eddie,” You breath out, pulling back. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him, only following the way his hand is massaging the dip in your waist, “studying, remember?”

“Shit.” He curses to himself, allowing himself to drop back into reality. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You assure him, knowing that studying was the last thing you were hoping to focus on now.

“I didn’t mean to overstep, I’m sorry if–” Eddie starts, and you can’t help but feel like a sucker for the way his voice stutters over the apology. And studying be-fucking-damned, you had plenty of other time to help him out. You had to allow yourself to self-indulge, at least once, and regret it later.

“Fuck it.” You sigh, shoving your belongings out of the way and pulling him toward you again.

He immediately takes the advantage of being above you, slotting his own legs between yours, still remaining enough distance that you both wouldn’t simultaneously combust from the idea of grinding against each other, though you weren't sure how long that would actually last.

He delves into your mouth like you’re the last meal he’s ever going to have and Jesus Christ–-no one’s ever kissed you this way. You sigh openly, letting Eddie deepen the kiss further. You try to find every reason to pull away, but you’re drawing the biggest fucking blank, gasping softly when Eddie’s hands dip behind your lower back, grasping onto your ass and bring you closer. And there’s no way to ignore the feeling of Eddie’s groin pressed against you, dick straining against the material of his jeans. His openly sighs into your mouth, switching from sweet, closed mouth kisses to dirty, deep open mouthed kisses that leave you both begging for more. His hand slips between you both, palm coming to rest against your clothed mound. He stops for a moment, like he wants to ask permission.

“Eddie,” You say softly, almost startled by how spent you sound, “I don’t know if we should–”

You wanted to keep going–god did you want to, but there was a lot of shit you needed to figure out first. And luckily, this didn’t feel like a one off experience, the way Eddie looked up at you with his wide eyed gaze, lips still obscenely wet and puffy.

“I’ve never–you know,” You struggle to find the words, “I’m a virgin. You should probably know that.”

You had enough common sense to know that Eddie wasn’t, judging by the pack of condoms he never bothered to put in his nightstand drawer, it seemed likely enough that he’s probably fucked a girl or two before, not that you cared. You just weren’t sure if this was the right time to be delving into uncharted territory.

“Fuck, I-” He replies, slightly breathless, “We totally don’t have to. I didn’t really expect–I just wanted to kiss you at first but Jesus–you’re fucking amazing.”

You laugh openly, falling back against the mattress. The look on Eddie’s face was priceless, something you wanted to take a picture of and remember forever. But, the way his fingers accidentally drag against you from where they were now resting against your inner thigh are enough to shake you back into reality.

“Sorry.” He says sheepishly, dragging his fingers back.

You stop him on a whim. The whim being the fact that you’re just incredibly to horny to leave with the state you were in. Fucked out, without even being fucked properly.

“We can…if you want.” You suggest tentatively. “Just for a little.”

Teenage hormones were a hell of hard thing to overcome and you were desperately losing that battle.

“If you don’t want to it’s fine–I get that you’ve never–” Eddie starts, but you emphasize by dragging his finger up your thigh and right about the waistband of your shorts–similar to the one from the day before, short and just as scandalous.

“It’s not like I’ve never touched myself before, Eddie.” You assure him, feeling the way his fingers played with the fabric teasingly. “I’m a virgin, not a puritan.”

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He sighs, forehead resting against your shoulder. You jump at the first touch of his fingers against your bare cunt, and part of you wants to feel embarrassed about the wetness that had collected there, but you were way too horny to give a shit. “And so wet.” It comes out as a moan. A fucking moan.

It should be criminal how attractive Eddie sounds right now, fingers exploring a part of you that only you’ve ever known. He drags a single digit from bottom to top, collecting the wetness. The tightness of your shorts left little room for him to move his hand around and the contact was almost earth-shattering. He hesitates, taking a moment to circle around your clit. You sigh quietly, which he takes as a good sign, testing the motion out again, and again, until you’re practically keening from the pressure building there. The way his finger slips into you is jarring, how easily he moves past your folds, starting a slow, steady motion of guiding his fingers in and out of you, occasionally stopping to drag his fingers against the most sensitive part of your body, the only place you wanted him to be.

“Oh,” You moan softly, “fuck, please.”

Eddie could come at the sound of you, the way your voice squeaks in desperation. He chuckles softly, using his thumb to circle your clit, teasing and slow. You could get yourself there just fine, but the foreign feeling of a hand that wasn’t yours, knowing your body almost as well as you did, it was enough to have you squeezing down on his fingers in pleasure.

“More?” He asks softly, looking from his face had been resting against the middle of your chest, watching as his fingers disappeared into your shorts.

“Please.” You beg, almost desperate. His second finger joins the first, adding a nice stretch that you’ve never really felt like this. His fingers were so much bigger than your own, so much more filling. You gasp loudly at the sudden change in pace, closing your eyes in a bid to hide your own embarrassment at the sound of your own voice. When you finally pry your eyes open, Eddie is staring at you. You weren’t sure how long he had been, but his gaze is dark, hot–you want to disappear.

“I want to hear you.” He assures you, emphasizing his words by working his finger against your clit quickly, causing you to mewl in response, back arching off the bed. “You sound so pretty, princess.”

And if there was any other way to die, this is exactly how you wanted to go out.

The pressure builds and builds, Eddie finding every way to pull sounds out of you, some you didn’t even know you were capable of. You can feel the way he’s absently, but still gently, grinding against your leg, where he’d maneuvered himself after a while, in hopes of relieving some of the pressure off of his own issue. You could tell he was holding back, which made you feel slightly guilty.

The thought is immediately interrupted by your orgasm washing over you out of the blue, fast, nearly knocking you out from the feeling that spreads throughout your entire body. Eddie works you through the end, even when your body is oversensitive and tingling.

“Jesus Christ.” You sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

“Nah, just me.” He says cheekily, grinning.

You reach for the clasp on his belt on instinct, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “It’s fine.” He laughs softly, “Besides, the second you touch my dick, I’m done for.”

It’s absurd, but it makes you giggle to yourself.

“I’ll take care of it later.” He admits, adjusting the front of his jeans to provide relief. The thought of him in bed, dick in hand, had you squeezing your thighs together shamelessly.

“O-Okay.” You reply, pushing yourself up as he moved off of you. “Well, thanks—I guess?”

You both fall into a fit of laughter immediately, not finding any reason to ignore how ridiculous you felt. Not to mention that way your heart twisted at the way Eddie’s grin reached from ear to ear. It wasn’t a new thing exactly, Eddie smiled a lot, but you knew this one was reserved for both of you, and that had your stomach doing back flips.

“My pleasure.” He replies, putting on a fancy, pretentious accent. “Princess.”

“Why princess?” You ask curiously, wondering where the name fits in for you.

“I don’t know,” Eddie shrugs, sitting back on his heels, “You've always been little miss ‘pretty and perfect’ to me—smart, and you don’t really put up with anyone’s shit—I almost didn’t believe it when you asked me to sell weed to you that first time.”

“Thought I was gonna rat you out, huh?” You ask teasingly.

“Maybe just a little.” He admits, holding his thumb and pointer finger an inch from each other. You toss a pillow at his head, he takes the hit like a champ, throwing it softly back at you.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

You two spend the next couple weeks studying off and on, not really bothering to avoid hanging out at school. Dustin actually enjoyed it; since he practically worshiped Eddie and you were another friend he had to talk to, not that Mike Wheeler wasn’t sufficient enough, his mind was just flooded with girls and Dustin was so far from the precipice of females.

Even if you spent half of your study sessions making out, you still managed to get enough work done that Eddie was making a little improvement—not to mention the look on Ms. McNally’s face when she called him out in class and he answered her question correct—you would’ve thought hell had finally froze over. Study sessions went from a weekend basis, to Eddie showing up to your shift at Family Video to ask about a question on the homework on any given day, not trying to hide the fact that he wanted another reason to talk to you outside of school.

“If you manage to help him graduate, it will be a miracle.” Steve says one day, leaning in as Eddie left the store.

You show up at his door that night, ready for another one of your tedious study sessions. But he’s answering the door before you have a chance to think.

“My uncle’s home.” He tells, looking back over his shoulder. You’d gotten lucky with the past couple of weeks, timing your visits almost perfectly, so that they aligned with his uncle’s work schedule. But, you weren’t sure what to do now.

“Well, we can just study—it’s fine.” You tell him quietly, “or I can come over tomorrow?”

“No.” He all but blurts out, “Sorry—we, we can just take my van. I know a spot where we can go.”

You’re hesitant at first, but you agree—it’s Eddie, you knew it would be fine.

His van is incredibly spacey, to your surprise. It made a lot of sense, though. You could tell he’d had more than a few smoke sessions based on how it practically reeked of weed and his cologne. When you’re stopped at the spot—a wide expanse of trees covering a large area and a giant skull shaped rock in the middle, he swings the back doors open, giving you a better view of his setup.

“Skull rock, Eddie? Seriously?” You deadpan, climbing out of the passenger seat and to the back of his van.

“What?” He asks innocently, hands flying out to his side in question. “It’s a great spot.”

You could point out every surface that Steve had made out with a girl on that rock, from memory—despite wanting to know, Steve just hated keeping his sexcapades to himself sometimes. Either way, you couldn’t complain. It was quiet, secluded, you didn’t have to worry about anyone finding Eddie toking up in the back if he so decided, even if you didn’t plan to partake. And part of you knew, not much study was going to take place anyways.

“Can I draw you?” You ask randomly, Eddie peering at you from where he’s perched on the edge of his van. “Sorry, that was really forward—I just—“

“Sure.” He agrees, moving deeper inside the van, the night sky nearly swallowing the van whole. If it weren’t for the overhead lights, you wouldn’t be able to see more than a couple inches in front of your face, luckily they lit the interior up well enough.

“How do you want me, Picasso?” He asks, flaring his jacket out.

“Just sit—and, what are you doing?” You laugh, watching as he knelt down, chin on his fist, a goofy attempt at a heroic pose.

“Too much?” He asks, but he doesn’t need the answer. He can tell by the amused look on your face, so he shifts onto his backside, legs spread out slightly, one lifted up so his foot was planted in the floor.

“Act like we’re in your room, talking—just be comfortable.” You remind him, letting the pencil feel out the paper.

And you don’t think you’ve ever heard Eddie stay so quiet, for so long. But he’s watching you, just as much you had been watching him, fiddling with his rings occasionally.

“Something on your mind?” You ask curiously, about halfway through the sketch, “I can see the gears turning in your head.”

“Just thinking.” He says quietly, eyes still locked on yours. “I don’t want to distract you, though.”

Though, that was really the plan all along—so you took the bait.

“No, tell me.” You demand, setting the pencil and book down.

He chuckles to himself, “I’m just thinking about how I wanna kiss you right now.”

You smile knowingly, a little shy now by how intently he’s looking at you. “Then why don’t you?”

And like a dam breaking, he’s on you instantly, hands gripping under your thighs to lay you down on the blanket that was covering the expanse of the back of his van.

“Wait, the doors.” You tell him through quick kisses. “Close the doors.”

And you’re right. The last thing you need is someone walking up on two high school students getting hot and heavy in the back of a van. The doors slam shut and he’s finding his way back to you, eyeing your mouth greedily. Eddie had gotten more and more comfortable with maneuvering you around how he wanted, knowing just how to have you begging for more and more.

His mouth leaves yours, kissing the underside of your chin, your neck, the small part of your chest that was exposed to him. He wanted to worship you in every way and form possible. He’s got his dick pressed against your core, still jailed by the confines of his jeans, the coldness of the chain he had attached to his pants, the one bearing factor that was keeping you grounded. Otherwise, you probably would have left the planet already.

“Wanna taste you so bad.” He groans against your neck, free hand coming up to rest against your cheek, stroking the delicate skin. “Please?”

“Yeah,” You rush out, licking your suddenly too dry lips, “only if you let me taste you too.” You slip your hands in the waistband of your sweatpants, pushing them and your underwear down in one go. You definitely want to feel ashamed, but you can’t help yourself. He freaking out at the thought of your mouth around him, you could say the same for yourself.

You expect him to delve right in, devour you immediately, but he stills himself. He mumbled something into the inside of your thigh, you try not to think about it too much, opening your legs a little wider. He’s nipping and biting at the most sensitive parts of your skin, watching you squirm in anticipation.

And when the flat of his tongue finally makes contact with your core, you moan unabashedly, reveling in the feeling. His nose nudges at your clit, and the sounds—god, the sounds. You blushed a particular shade of red, ashamed at how well your body was responding to his touch.

“So pretty and perfect.” He says against your cunt, “Just like I suspected.”

You laugh at the absurdity of it all, moaning when he sneaks a finger up to join with the work his mouth couldn’t cover. He was working you up, he wanted you to come, but the fact that he already had you 1-0 was a crime and that just wouldn’t suffice.

He grabbed your hands, which had been laying useless at your side, and guided them to the beautiful mane of hair attached to him. You wrapped your fingers around the hair at tugged, ever so softly. The look on his face as he pulled back was something you’d never soon forget, mouth covered in your clear slick, his tongue reaching out to lick his bottom lip.

“Wanna suck your dick, Eddie.” You begged. “Please.”

The look of pleading you gave him had him melting in your hands. He wordlessly lifted himself to his knees, wasting no time to undo the buckle of his belt. You helped him along the way, unzipping and pulling at the waistband of his jeans. When you finally found the chance to switch positions, he was already pulling the top of his underwear underneath his ass, but you couldn’t be bothered to wait any longer. You moved on instinct, grabbing his dick in your hand and tugging on the shaft gently, testing his body out.

Even though you didn’t have much to compare it to, Eddie Munson still had the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen.

“Shit, say that again.” He groans, watching you lean forward to kiss at the tip. You hadn’t realized you even said that aloud until he was staring down at you, completely wrecked by the idea of you finding his dick pretty.

“It’s so pretty and perfect.” You tease, licking the underside of his dick in one, long stripe.

He curses audibly, head banging against the metal of the van.

You take him carefully, slowly. Maybe you’re doing everything wrong, but the moan that escapes him proves otherwise. His hand curls around the back of your head gently, guiding and setting a pace. He’s showing you what he likes, so you give it to him. You’re careful not to scrape against his shaft with your teeth, using your tongue to trace slow circles around the tip before swallowing him down in one go, it was a lot more than you could initially handle, it makes your eyes water and you pull back for a moment to catch your breath.

“Sorry, too much.” You apologize halfheartedly and Eddie gives you an incredulous look, both mesmerized and completely caught off guard.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He breaths out, eyes searching yours for a moment. “I don’t want to sound forward but I really wanna fuck you.”

If it was anyone else, they’d probably be dead. But, the way Eddie sounds almost desperate is the entire reason you’re nodding your head in earnest.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.” You agree, despite how terrified the thought made you feel.

“We can stop if it’s too much for you.” Eddie tells you, sincerity ringing through. “I’m serious.”

You nod, “I’m good, I swear.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Eddie has you wedged in between the makeshift pillow he made and himself, laid out comfortably on your side, naked from head to toe, and you try not to linger on the way he’s staring at your breasts, or the hand that’s running between your legs, dipping into your folds again. You adjust yourself slightly, legs widening at the touch. He’s gentle and you want to cry at the thought that someone would want to take so much care with you. He fingers you open slowly, swallowing your moans throat deep, lingering kisses that you never want to end. You can hear the wrapper crinkle between you, watching as pulls away to rip it open with his teeth.

Mesmerized as he rolls the condom down his shaft, you clench at the idea of him being inside. You didn’t want to think anymore, letting your body run on autopilot.

“We can go slow. Just tell me what feels good.” He reminds you, hiking your leg up against his hip, positioning himself at your entrance. You nod silently, bracing yourself. Your hand wraps around his wrist where he’s caressing your head, letting the slow, stretching feeling of him pushing inside take over your body. It stings, but barely—you nod again, looking up to let him know that this was okay, that you were okay.

He gradually picks the pace up, once he’s finally seated inside you and you’re accustomed to the feeling of him. It wasn’t until then that you realized just how noisy Eddie could be—moaning every obscenity under the sun into mouth as you swallowed up everyone with a kiss, gasping for air when he grazed your clit with his thumb from where it had been resting against your hip bone.

You can feel the way he’s holding back, not sure how much you could take. He’s gripping you tight, and you attempt to break him from whatever daze he’s locked himself into.

“Eddie, it’s fine.” You say breathlessly, “I can take it.”

And like that, he releases you, maneuvering you onto your back to adjust himself over you, pulling himself out to adjust before he’s careful thrusting back in, hand tucked under the soft skin at the back of your knee, bearing the weight you couldn’t bother to hold up.

He leans forward and mouths at your breasts, taking the time to graze his teeth against the tip of the the soft bud of your nipple, causing a gasp to bubble out of your chest. “Do that again.” You beg.

He laughs quietly, showing the other breast the same care, then switching back to the other. Fuck, it was so good. You’d almost been too distracted to realize the pace he’d picked up, more consistent as the sound your bodies coming together filled up the silence. That and the moans you couldn’t bother to keep quiet, mixing in with his own.

“Feel so good, princess.” He groans, mouth tucked away into your neck, mouthing at the skin there. “Squeezing my dick just right.”

Eddie has a filthy mouth, obviously. You were definitely bookmarking that for later.

“Wanna come, Eddie. Please.” You gasp, trying desperately to push back to meet the more desperate pace Eddie had set.

“Here,” He’s grabbing your hand, guiding it between the both of you, “wanna see you touch yourself, see if you can make yourself come as good as I can.”

Part of you doesn’t know how to respond, so you don’t, but you mindlessly obey the request at hand, circling your clit with your own two fingers, gasping at how sensitive you were. Fingers were one thing, but Eddie’s dick—that was something else entirely. You’re trying desperately to keep up, but Eddie can tell you’re overwhelmed, overworked, so he slips his hand against yours, helping you through the motion.

“You’re almost there, I can tell.” He murmurs against your ear, the hotness of his breath sending tingles down your entire body. “I got you.”

He moved your fingers with his, hips shaking sloppily, thrusting himself through his own climax, watching as your mouth dropped open in a wordless shout, orgasm hitting you in a flash of white, leaving you panting for breath when you came back to earth.

Eddie gives you a few minutes to settle, brushing your wild hair behind your ears and out of your face—he pulls out slowly, removing and tying the condom, discarding it in the front of the van inside of the tiny trash can nestled underneath the passenger side dash. He seems worried.

“It was good.” You assure him, hoping he wasn’t stressing over the idea of ruining anything for you. “I don’t really have anything to compare it to but if it’s anything like that, it was pretty damn good.”

He chuckles gently, his chest shaking at the motion. You finally have a clear view of some of the tattoos you never really noticed until now. Eddie had slipped his underwear back on in the process, helping you search through the flurry of mixed clothes to find your own.

“I guess I just wasn’t sure how we’d handle things after.” He says quietly, taking a seat next to. You see him reach for the pre-rolled blunt sitting in the ashtray and you grab his wrist, pulling it toward you.

“Well, do you want me to leave?” It wasn’t meant to sound harsh, Eddie didn’t seem to take it that way either.

“No.” He replies sheepishly, hands resting in his lap.

“Then stop worrying. Stop acting like you just scandalized me.” You laugh, poking his stomach. “I think we’re way past that.”

“God, because the sounds you make should be illegal and I don’t like being a one and done type of guy—“ Eddie would have gone on a tangent had you let him, but the gentle reminder you offered was enough to shut him up.

“Well, next time—“

“Next time?” He quirks up, eyebrows raised.

“Next time,” You repeat, feeling a little silly, “we’ll find out just how long the both of us can get. But, first—you gotta pass English.”

The exasperated sigh that Eddie let out was enough to have you curling forward in laughter.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” He smiles, reaching forward to kiss you, chaste and sweet.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x afab reader #i sat on this for too long and i'm starting to hate it GOODBYE #my writing #1kfic

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