#my writing
munsonquinns · a day ago
how about steddie dick measuring contest but reader is the judge? if it leads to smut that’s okay but i know you’ll make it good regardless lol
author’s note: the premise is there i promise, i just used this as an excuse to write threesome smut because it started out as a funny idea and then my brain just melted at the thought of it
cw: 18+ (minors dni), heavy voyeurism, threesomes, unrequited crushes (steddie), established relationships with reader, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), mentioned virgin!eddie, steve is overly confident, eddie is a sweetheart, if i missed anything lmk
word count: 4k
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It started after Steve and Eddie found out that you had been sleeping with both of them—there was never any exclusivity in your relationship, and the sex with Eddie had started innocently, taking his virginity from him on his graduation night.
Every time with Eddie was something new. He was eager to try things, learn, and it made for some of the more enjoyable sex you’ve ever had. He only lacked slightly in skill, still fumbling around most of the time and getting upset when he couldn’t make you come as easily as he’d hoped.
For Steve, it was after a long-drawn out conversation about how he couldn’t find the right women, the sex was lacking, and he just wanted something—it didn’t even have to be something either of you committed to fully, as long as you two were having fun with it. Steve still went on dates every now and then, had the occasional hookup, but he always ended up back at your place most weekends using the opportunity to vent about his hardships in trying to find a partner—most of it fell on deaf ears, because as much as Steve was a great partner, he also talked about himself way too much.
He was full of himself, to be blunt—which is why this had started the conversation you were being forced to listen to currently, both of them settled on either side of the couch. You were smushed in the center, feet propped up on the table in Eddie’s living room, hands covering your face as you rested your head against the back of the couch and let out an audible groan.
“Okay but,” Eddie begins, another tumultuous conversation that was bound to go one forever if you didn’t put an end to it, “you’ve seen both of our dicks, you be the judge.”
Steve had found a pair of your underwear on Eddie’s floor a couple weeks prior, because of course he knew they were yours. He held them up accusingly, both you and Eddie sharing an awkward glance.
You really had no choice but to come clean. Thankfully, they both took it well—actually, they didn’t have any problem with it, and that’s what you couldn’t wrap your brain around. Not at first, at least.
“It’s okay,” Steve comforts, squeezing your shoulder, “be honest, Eddie can take it.”
You always hung out as a group now, never separately—and you couldn’t ignore the obvious tension that has festered. Truthfully, it felt like an attack on you. They talked about you when you weren’t around, you knew that much, having walked in on them in the middle of a particularly heated conversation about what made you come the quickest. Eddie knew it was oral, but Steve swore you faked it half the time just so he’d skip to the sex, always gawking about how good his dick felt—how big it was.
And obviously, it had boosted his ego through the fucking roof.
“Oh, fuck you.” Eddie insults lightly, leaning in to whisper against your ear, “Come on, sweetheart—let him have it.”
“Oh my god, who cares?” You ask redundantly, exasperated at the topic and almost shouting it out. “The average is—what, five? I’m pretty confident you’re both over that so what does it matter?”
“No way Munson is packing over five.” Steve nags, pointing lazily at the long haired, wide eyed boy at your side. Eddie rolls his eyes, scoffing at the comment.
“We get it, King Steve’s got a big dick.” Eddie mocks, throwing his hands up.
You snort at the nickname, “Don’t call him that.” You tell Eddie, watching as Steve’s face falls slightly. “See—he’s too confident.”
“Why are you avoiding the question then?” Steve counters, growing increasingly irritated. It’s not directed toward you, or at Eddie even, he just wants to get to the bottom of it.
“Why are you so worried that I might say it’s Eddie?” You tease, hearing Eddie howl a laugh behind you.
“Is it?” Eddie asks after he regains his composure, “I don’t even care at this point, I just need to rub it in Steve’s face.”
“Fuck this,” Steve says in a clipped tone, “Whip it out, Munson.”
“Excuse you?” Eddie asks in a subtle shock, eyes follow Steve as he stands from the couch. “Take me to fuckin’ dinner first, Steve.”
“I need to pee.” You say quickly, making a weak excuse to escape to the bathroom.
Steve holds up his hand, “No, no—you have to judge.”
You stare up at him with comically wide eyes, growling slightly under your breath when he doesn’t relent, sinking back down on the couch.
“Fine.” You agree, “Hurry up.”
Eddie flicks his gaze between you and Steve before finally settling on you, “Do you—are we actually entertaining this?”
“To be fair, I really don’t know.”
It was the honest truth.
Steve fiddles with his pants as Eddie moves a little slower, more hesitant to expose himself. Steve grew up in sports, he was used to changing in front of other guys, nudity around other’s wasn’t foreign to him—Eddie was obviously less willing, having grown up under constant scrutiny and bullying there was valid reasoning on why he didn’t want to. You gave him a look, touching his wrist as he reached for his belt.
“Steve, I don’t think this is a good idea.” You tell him as he lingers behind you, eyes still locked on Eddie as you turn to him, but something in Eddie’s face changes, a subtle smirk growing.
“Gotta shut him up somehow, right?” Eddie asks.
And they’re both on the edge of shoving their pants down, gaze noticeably locked on one another before you’re panicking, arms thrown up in an attempt to halt whatever was about to commence.
“Wait, fuck—“ You sigh loudly, slumping as they both look at you, “this isn’t fair.”
The silence is telling, both boys completely at your command.
It’s almost impossible not to have fun with this, especially if they weren’t about to let up over the whole ordeal.
“I mean—Steve is definitely a shower,” You admit, “but I don’t think it’s fair unless both of you are—“
“Hard?” Eddie finishes for you, and Steve catches on immediately, that mischievous grin matches yours.
“If you wanted a kiss so bad all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” Steve replies with that puff in his chest, always so sure of himself.
You giggle softly, tongue poking at the inside of your cheek as you lean away from Steve’s reach, looking over at Eddie and back at him.
“Not me, Steve.” You reply sickeningly sweet, eye flicking up knowingly toward Eddie, bottom lip pulled between your teeth.
You weren’t oblivious to the interest that Steve tried so desperately to hide any time he was around Eddie—the teasing, the lingering looks, the constant need to piss him off just to keep him talking. Eddie was just as bad, constantly feeding into whatever game Steve was playing at. They had been friends before, somewhat—but whatever this had become, it brought you all closer. Though, it wasn’t your fault that they were so inherently stubborn and avoiding the fact that they, for a lack of better words, wanted to fuck each other.
And maybe that was a strong way to put it, but they almost seemed scared—scared that it would make you feel a certain way. They were both always so careful with your feelings, two of your closest friends, but your annoyance was at it’s peak and you really couldn’t take it any longer.
“Each other.” You say simply, wagging your finger between the two. “But, of course, drop the pants first.”
“That’s not funny.” Steve retorts.
Eddie shrugs, “I mean, I don’t care.”
You shrug at Steve, pointing at Eddie. “You heard him—get to smoochin’, Steve.”
Eddie laughs at Steve’s shy hesitation, yanking gently at the open hem of his pants, fingers grazing his half-hard cock.
“Come on, big boy,” Eddie teases, smirk pulling at his features, “all talk and no game—seriously?”
That’s what does Steve in, never one to back down from a challenge. He cradles Eddie’s head the same way he does yours, fingers disappearing into his long curls as he pushes toward him, slotting his top lip between Eddie’s, sucking at his bottom gingerly.
It’s just a taste—something to entice Eddie, but it doesn’t take much. He pulls back with a breath, locking eyes with him for a brief moment before diving in fully, tongue splitting Eddie’s mouth open without hesitation, hands idly working at his jeans to shove them down, underwear following as he steps out of them in a fumble, the fabric getting caught at his feet. Eddie takes a little longer, belt snapping in the air as he yanks it from the loops and strips himself too.
“Shirts too?” Steve asks, not directed at any particular person, but you answer seeing as how Eddie is so clearly distracted by Steve’s lips, his neck, the soft pattern of freckles that trace his face.
“Yeah, yeah—“ Your own breath is caught in your throat, despite how good you are at keeping your composure.
This was definitely meant as a joke, maybe a quick peck or two before you’d put an end to their misery—but that wasn’t the case at all.
You felt like you were intruding, but your body was frozen in place and part of you forget the entire cause of this, glancing down at their slowly hardening cocks, shirts being simultaneously ripped over their heads before they fell right back into, Eddie’s hands squeezing along the side of Steve’s neck as he kissed him, letting out the soft sated noises he makes when he’s enjoying himself, eyes closed shut.
Steve’s hand grazes carefully over his own cock, his fingers barely grazing the head of Eddie’s as he squeezes at the base, bringing his fingers up to drag over the tip, openly groaning into Eddie’s mouth.
Eddie chuckles, biting playfully at Steve’s lip, emitting a strained grunt from his chest—and then he’s speaking to you, startling you out of the trance you’ve fallen into, watching two of your best friend’s going after each other so eagerly.
“What’s the verdict, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, pulling away slightly to look at you. He sees the gape in your mouth, the glaze over your eyes and he can’t help it, “Oh shit—you’re into this, aren’t you?”
Steve turns his attention too, “Is that even a question? Look at her.”
“Someone had to force you two to stop ignoring what was obviously there,” You defend, “—I’m not gonna choose, by the way.”
“Oh, come on.” Steve complains, pulling away from Eddie briefly—he’s so unashamed in his nudity that he turns to you, “seriously—what’s it gonna take?”
You shrug stubbornly.
Steve glances over at Eddie, whose pupils are blown to hell with arousal.
“Your bed big enough for three, Munson?” Steve asks, sending you a vivacious smile that makes you blush, shrinking away from him slightly. “We’re gonna settle this.”
“Uh, yeah—should be.” Eddie nods, “But if we’re about to settle who’s better in bed, that’s a given.”
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It was definitely not a given—because as much as you’d like to go for one or the other, they were making it impossible.
“Is this too much?” Eddie asks, shifting between your legs as he stretches your thighs open. Steve’s settled behind you, propping you up slightly as he tilts your head up, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation toward this.
“I feel like I should be asking you two that question,” You admit, smiling softly as Steve tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb, smiling down at you, “this is my fault.”
“You good with this, Harrington?” Eddie asks idly, kissing at the inside of your thigh before nipping at the skin, causing you to squirm, gasping involuntarily.
Steve nods, making an affirming noise.
“You think you can handle both of us?” Steve asks endearingly, though it’s edged with something else
“At the same time?” You ask incredulously, “No fuckin’ way—“
Eddie’s tongue slides through the center of your cunt, biting gently at your folds. “I don’t think that’s what he means.”
“Good to know it’s on your mind though,” Steve comments, “maybe we’ll try that next time.”
Eddie pulls away briefly, laughing into the apex of your thigh. Steve’s fingers trailing down your bare chest, over the pudge of your stomach until his fingers reach your clit, rubbing slow circles until he can feel your breath starting to quicken. Eddie dives back in soon after, his tongue dipping into your entrance, lapping up the thick juices, sounding shamefully wet already. His nose nudges Steve’s finger, the pressure it applies is fucking sinful, causing you to moan openly, a hand wrapping around Steve’s bicep for support. His eyes never leave your face, so when your eyes go searching, he’s right there waiting.
“So, here’s the plan,” Steve explains—and considering he’s a lot more experienced than both of you, it makes sense, “Eddie’s gonna fuck you first, then me—then you’ll have to make your decision, alright?”
“No promises.” You mumble, before Steve’s nudging your face back up again, eyes darkening.
“You will.” Steve decides, “Trust me.”
Eddie moves up, leaning back on his thighs as he rustles around in his drawer for the spare box of condoms—because in hindsight, there was no way he could’ve prepared for this. So, of course, he’s all out.
“Hey—it’s fine,” You assure him, hand pulling his face toward you, “I trust you—considering I’ve been on birth control for the past year I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
“You always make me wear condoms.” Steve grumbles from above, earning a light shove from you.
“Well, Eddie isn’t going around fucking other girls.” You tell him lightly—it doesn’t come off as catty, more matter of fact. Eddie laughs, closing the drawer.
“So, one point me,” Eddie says, pointing toward himself, before shoving a giant goose egg at Steve, “Harrington, zero.”
The conversation dies rather quickly as Eddie settles back down, nudging the head of his cock at your entrance, teasingly pressing it along your clit, sliding up through your folds in an effort to drive you mad—it always does, his face lighting up every time. Steve’s not watching you anymore either, eyes lingering toward Eddie, roaming the expanse of his body, his face. He’s never watched another man fuck before, despite his confidence. Steve’s had a threesomes before, though very few and far between, never like this. His sexuality wasn’t something he always openly discussed, no one ever questioned it either. And truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he even knew what it was. But, he was attracted to you—and Eddie.
Eddie pushes in slowly, face scrunching up in concentration as it always does—it’s almost like Steve wasn’t even there to him, his mouth coming down to latch onto your neck, kiss you gently, savor the sweet taste of your skin. Sex with Eddie is always slower, more sensual, and maybe you could enjoy it if Steve wasn’t snickering above you so flippantly.
“Dude,” Eddie complains, thrusts slowing as he glances up at Steve briefly before glancing down at you helplessly, “either get busy or get out.”
“Actually,” You pipe up, looking at Steve, “talk to him, Steve—god knows you never shut up when we’re fucking.”
Steve snorts softly, peering up at Eddie from underneath his lashes, smiling dangerously.
“It’s nice, yeah?” Steve inquires, eyebrows jutting up slightly in question, nodding toward you. “Probably the best you’ve had.”
Eddie laughs weakly, his thrusts increasing slightly as he pulls at your thighs, hooking them around his hips more securely. He was gawking up at Steve, leaving you to watch the show with baited breath, eyes squeezing shit every now and then when Eddie hit that particular spot inside of you.
“It’s the only,” Eddie admits, “but it’s fuckin’ perfect. Pussy’s fuckin’ perfect.”
And he’s never been a savant with words, but damn if that doesn’t send an immediate jolt of heat to your core, moaning brokenly.
“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” Steve asks you, breaking his connection with Eddie briefly to glance down, “I’m not even kissing him and it’s driving you crazy.”
You nod dumbly, Steve’s attention flicking back toward Eddie.
“Tell me how she feels.”
Eddie scoffs lightly at that. Eddie’s always talkative during sex, but not in the same way Steve is—Steve is always about praise and making you blush after every other word, while Eddie has no ability to keep his burgeoning thoughts inside, telling you something annoying about his day or his favorite song that week; it’s all very mundane but it’s Eddie.
“Tight, fuck—“ He sighs, gripping your hip harshly as he moved his hips into you faster, face scrunching up slightly as he glared at Steve, who’s smirk hasn’t faded at all, “god, warm too. So fuckin’ warm and soft—“
You whimper desperately, finger squeezing into Steve’s forearm as Eddie thrusts into you, shoving you up Steve’s chest slightly, their own faces nudging together from the close proximity they were in.
Steve nods knowingly, his lips grazing Eddie’s plush ones, pulling back slightly when Eddie leans forward. “It’s not fair to her,” Steve says in a hushed tone, but you quickly respond with a shake of your head.
“Fuck, please,” You beg, “it’s so hot.”
They both laugh at that, forcing you to giggle despite how close you were to your own orgasm. Eddie presses his lips against Steve’s this time, initiating the kiss as he moves against you, fingers gripping you impossibly tighter as Steve’s tongue traces his bottom lip before slipping inside.
It’s messy, all spit and battling tongues as Eddie's hand struggles against the mattress to keep him upright, limbs shaking from execution and the coiling heat in his stomach, grunting into Steve’s open mouth.
“Gonna come,” Eddie whines, “fuck, I’m gonna come—“
“Come inside her.” He tells him.
It does Eddie in immediately, losing his rhythm. Steve’s quick, sneaky in his motions as his hand ghosts over your clit—the attention was never lacking, it’s the one thing you appreciated the most about him. Your orgasm hits you quick, fleeting, eyes connecting with Eddie briefly as he spills inside you, fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to leave bruises. Surely they would, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.
Steve rubs your arms comfortingly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as you come back down, head spinning slightly.
“Still with us?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb along the side of your cheek until you connect eyes with him, offering him a small nod. He grins, “Good, my turn.”
Eddie moves slowly, still reeling from the intensity of it all, feeling floaty as he moves to settle behind you. Steve sits up as he takes Eddie’s place in front of you, leaning back on his heels as he lifts you up into his lap, forcing a small gasp from your chest. His fingers find your cunt, rubbing through the mix of your slick and Eddie’s as he pushes it back up inside of you where it starts to spill out.
“Good girl,” He chides, “I need you to keep it all in until we’re finished.”
Steve grips the base of his cock, pushing inside you slowly as Eddie pulls your hair aside, mouthing at the line on your shoulder, your neck, lazy and gentle kisses to remind you that he’s still there.
“Oh fuck,” Steve groans, “s’not fair—you’ve been letting Munson here fuck you without a condom and deprived me of this—“
“Stipulations, Steve.” You sigh, face scrunching up as he lifts you slightly, wrapping your legs around his hips until you have no choice but to throw over the control to him.
“Can’t help that you're a whore, Harrington.” Eddie chuckles, eyes connecting briefly as removes his lips from your skin, “—tell ‘em, sweetheart. Tell Steve how fuckin’ amazing it feels to have me inside you.”
You nod in agreement, a jerky motion of your head as Steve rams into you harshly, pulling a strained whimper from your lips, adjusting your arms around his neck for purchase. Eddie pushes in impossibly closer—Steve buries his face against the other side that Eddie isn’t occupying, leaving a faint bruise in the skin before pulling away, surprisingly met with Eddie’s lips.
“So good.” You mumble, voice barely above a whisper, words failing to reach you, gasping sharply at the feeling of Eddie’s fingers pressing against your clit, still reeling from the previous orgasm. You could feel it though, that deep seated ache in your belly that was lingering there, waiting. Eddie’s other hand is pulling at Steve’s neck, tongue forcing itself past his lips and devouring him on the spot—if there was one thing about Eddie, he could take your breath away with a kiss, which was evident in the way Steve could barely keep up, having seemingly met his match with Eddie.
“Fuck, it’s too—sensitive, I’m gonna—“ You moan devastingly loud, both of them breaking briefly to attend to you—not that they weren’t already doing so, but they’re lips are puffy and red from kissing each other and they can barely keep their eyes for one another.
You’ve created a monster—but, it was a necessary evil. They had been walking around each other for weeks, tiptoeing around the topic, becoming more and more territorial over you to rile the other one up, it was only a matter of time.
“Fuck, yeah—just like that, baby.” It’s the only nickname that Steve calls you that makes your stomach flutter, his voice softer than normal. Eddie leans in too, fingers still rubbing persistently at your clit as he breaths over your ear, murmuring a soft—
“Look at him,” Eddie comments quietly, “he’s a mess.”
And he was—for a brief second, you didn’t even recognize him. Steve was normally so well managed and put together that the helpless look on his face was completely unfamiliar. His head fell back lazily, pumping into you a finally few times before he’s coming with a soft grunt, letting Eddie work you through your second orgasm—it’s overwhelming, almost too much, feeling your nails dig into the skin of Eddie’s thigh as you curse out a string of obscenities, chest heaving as you came down.
Eddie groans slightly, falling back on his mattress as you follow into a fit of laughter, neither of you able to calm yourself until Steve is settling by your side, staring you both down with a comical look of disbelief.
“So, do you have your answer now?” Eddie interjects beside how valiantly you’ve tried to avoid the topic. “Or, do we need to go again?”
And there’s only one real way out of it.
“Yeah,” You nod, “Me.”
“Oh, that’s bullshit.” Steve quickly recovers, flipping down beside you both, shuffling his pants back on lazily, while you and Eddie couldn’t be bothered. “That’s such a cop out.”
“Are you disagreeing with me?” You press further, the lilt in your voice coming off as a warning.
Eddie laughs softly behind you, “Don’t do it, Steve. You’ll regret it.”
And for once in his life, he doesn’t have a comeback.
“Okay, but back to the original question—“
“It’s Steve.” You admit, earning a dramatic gasp from Eddie, hand clutched over his chest. “Look, you two made me choose, you can’t be mad—“
“You could always try it out for yourself, Munson—if you have doubts.” Steve teases, leaning over you slightly to peer at Eddie, eyes raking his body.
“Mmm, but don’t get your ego up,” You warn him, waving a careful finger at him before pointing at Eddie, “Eddie’s technique is—“
“Are you saying I can’t fuck?” Steve huffs out a laugh, “After that?”
“Eddie’s just—eager.” You smile knowingly, watching as Eddie blushes a deep red, his hand covering himself indecently, the blood rushing to his cock again. “Like, really eager.”
Steve grins menacingly, “Clearly.”
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Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡
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stevieclaus · a day ago
listen, i know we all love knows-he's-queer- from-early-on eddie munson and bisexual-awakening steve harrington (i know i love them), but let's think a minute about confidently queer steve harrington being eddie's queer awakening?
steve thinking eddie is into guys so he's actively hitting on him, peering up at him from under his eyebrows, throwing smirks around and purposefully rolling his tshirt sleeves a bit too high so eddie will check him out. he pulls out all his stops and robin is cheering him on silently in the background every time he strikes out with eddie, both of them slowly coming to the conclusion that he's not into guys so he backs off.
and eddie? well, he really likes how steve was flirting with him. misses the way he'd flex and slap playfully at his arm and look at him with bedroom eyes now that he's putting some distance between them. eddie can't fucking take it. he doesn't know why he misses all of that, just knows that he does. so eddie does what anyone would do, he asks dustin.
dustin, who tries to get him to have an open mind to the fact that maybe, just maybe, he likes flirting with steve. that he likes boys too or just boys or maybe just steve but that he does at least like steve. dustin sees the heart eyes that eddie gives steve and sees the puppy dog eyes when steve starts to pull back. he meddles and pushes and gets it to where steve and eddie finally confront that yes, steve likes eddie and yes, eddie likes steve back but that it's new for him. it's all new, being in a relationship and liking a boy for the first time.
but steve holds his hand gently. he pushes curls behind his ears and wraps his arm around his shoulders when they watch tv. he takes it at whatever pace eddie wants because that's what a good boyfriend does and eddie can't help but grin because the word boyfriend is now getting thrown around. cause who would have thought? eddie munson has a boyfriend and that has such a nice ring to it.
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write-on-world · 2 days ago
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tasteleeknow · a day ago
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pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff. content: 18+ only. warnings below cut. word count: 2k
summary: you go on a camping trip with your boyfriend. he cooks for you the whole trip and you show him how grateful you are. praise, hands—everything you’d expect. don’t look at me.
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afab!reader. profanity. unprotected intercourse. hand kink. finger sucking. praise kink. consensual somnophilia.
The flames dance in front of you, pulling you into a trance only Minho’s voice breaks you out of. “Are you hungry?” he says, reaching forward to poke at the burning logs with a stick. 
“Hm? Oh, a bit.” 
He stands, draping his jacket over your shoulders. “I’ll start dinner,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You look back to the flames, zoning out again as your boyfriend shuffles around you. 
Fires had a similar effect on you as trains. Much like when you stared out the window on a long journey, the orange flames would pull you deep into your thoughts—contemplating your life, fantasising about what you’d like it to be. You’d been on a train the day you met your boyfriend, staring at the rolling fields as you imagined a life where you weren’t completely alone. He’d dropped into the seat across from you with no warning, no big announcement—as if he was just another stranger and not the person you’d come to love more than anyone else in the world. 
He’d sat there reading a book, totally oblivious to your inner turmoil. Talk to the cute boy, you’d repeated to yourself, over and over and over. It wasn’t until he looked up suddenly from his book—trapping you in direct eye contact—that you’d been forced to act. He was gracious as you stuttered out a poor attempt at friendly conversation, politely answering your questions about his book, about where he was going. You’re grateful everyday for the length of that trip, giving you more than enough time to settle your nerves and get to know him properly.
“You solving world hunger?” he says now, snapping you out of your trance again. He waves a hand in front of your face, a fond half smile pulling the corner of his mouth up. He hands you a bowl of spaghetti. 
“Thank you.” 
“Are you? Thankful,” he teases, taking a seat in his own camping chair next to you. You look up from your bowl, giving him a questioning look. “How are you going to show me your gratitude?” he continues, leaning towards you. 
“Thank you SO much.” 
“You’ll have to do better than that if you want breakfast.” 
You suck in a breath, putting on a shocked expression. “You’d keep breakfast from me?” 
“Don’t test me.” 
You lean back in your chair, pulling your legs up so you can eat comfortably. “Let me think about it.” 
He leans back, nodding in satisfaction as he digs into his own food. “Good,” he mumbles around a mouthful. You smile to yourself, amused by his obvious desire for praise making a reappearance. It didn’t matter how many times you teased him for it, he couldn’t help himself. 
You sit around the fire as you both digest, discussing everything from your plans for tomorrow to the concept of gravity. When he stretches his arms above his head, a yawn following his low groan, you take it as a sign it’s time for bed. He showers as you clean up. That was your routine. He cooked, you cleaned. 
By the time you’ve showered as well he’s comfortable in bed, reading a book. He looks up from the pages, catching you staring at him. “What?” he asks, dropping the paperback into his lap. 
“You were reading when we met.” 
He laughs. “C’mere,” he says, pulling the blankets back so you can crawl in beside him. You attach to his side, arms wrapped around him. “You gonna reminisce everytime I open a book?” 
“Only if we’ve been in close proximity to a fire or a train,” you mutter. He doesn’t question you, shuffling you both down the bed and pulling the covers over you. You reach out to flick the bedside light off before pressing back into his body, his arms holding you tightly against him. 
You’re both quiet for a moment, taking in the stillness. “Can you hear that?” you whisper, the sounds of nature surrounding your tent. His arms tighten around you. 
“You scared?” 
“What if a bug gets in?” 
You lift his hand to fiddle with his fingers and then begin tracing your finger over his prominent veins. “I might get a bit scared,” you confess. 
“Mm? I’ll protect you.” 
“So brave,” you say, smiling at the memory of him yelping as a beetle crawled across his shoe a few hours earlier. 
“Have you thought about how you’re gonna thank me?” he mumbles, lips pressed to your skin. The warmth from his body spreads through you to your heart, beating steadily in your chest. His requests for praise always filled you with a soft fondness, weakening you until you gave in. Always. You press your hips back against him. 
“You can wake me,” you whisper. 
“Hm? Wake you?” 
You’re quiet, waiting for him to catch on. One of his palms moves up to your chin, turning your head so he can see your face. “Like on my birthday?” he asks, the almost childish hopefulness in his tone pulling a smile onto your face. 
“Yeah,” you confirm, “like your birthday.” He presses his lips to yours roughly, a groan accompanying his kiss. You turn towards him, pressing your chest to his so you can wrap yourself around him properly. 
“I’ll cook every night,” he mutters into your mouth, hand reaching down to grip your ass—pulling you against him more. You giggle, pressing your hands to his chest so you can detach from him. He resists at first, then relents. 
“Don’t get too excited,” you say, tracing his plush lips with your finger. “I have to sleep first.” 
“Are you tired?” 
You press one last kiss to his lips then turn around so he can wrap himself around you again. “Goodnight,” you whisper, lifting his hand from your waist to kiss his knuckles. He hums in response, burying his face in your hair. 
You wake to a hand stroking your hair from your face, lips pressed to the skin behind your ear. Why those are the sensations you're first conscious of and not the heavy cock sliding between your legs, you don’t know. “‘Got you all slippery, baby. You slept through it…massaged it all over your pretty little pussy for you,” he mumbles into your skin. You feel it, the wetness between your legs, the inside of your thighs. The bottle of lube sits unassuming on the bedside table. 
He turns your face towards him, your eyes still bleary from sleep—blinking slowly as you attempt to wake properly. “What time is it?” you whisper against his lips. 
“S’only been an hour… couldn’t wait,” he mutters, pressing messy kisses across your lips. “Too pretty…and soft…and warm.” 
He rocks his hips back and forth against you, his hot cock sliding against your cunt easily. You turn your head from his, pressing your face into the pillow to muffle your whine. 
“Shhhhh, gotta stay quiet,” he says, one of his hands moving to wrap around your neck. You lift your face from the pillow, concentrating on staying quiet as he rocks against you. You don’t last long, small sounds slipping from your throat as the throbbing builds between your legs. His hand moves to cover your mouth, his warm skin against your lips. 
“Someone might hear, baby. Might hear those pretty little noises, hm? Getting woken up by cock. I know it’s a lot, yeah? So good for me.” 
You roll your hips, helping him move against you. His hand over your mouth doesn’t do much to muffle the noises you can’t hold back. He gives up, hand moving to your hips to help guide you as he finally sinks into you—the filthy stretch drawing out sounds from you both. 
You grab one of his hands, pulling his fingers to your mouth and wrapping your lips around him. He bottoms out, holding still as you both savour the feeling. He pulls his finger from your mouth, hand moving down to grasp one breast—wet finger flicking over your nipple. You attempt to grab his hand and pull it back to your mouth. He resists. 
“You want my fingers, baby?” 
“Lo-love them.” 
“Yeah?” he breathes, hips beginning little movements against you—drawing his cock in and out slightly. 
“So much,” you whisper. “So pretty…distracting…want them in my mouth all the time.” 
He trails his finger up your throat, pulling his cock almost completely out of your cunt as he goes. The tip of his finger presses between your lips, then he sinks in—both his cock and finger pressing inside you simultaneously. “Like this?” he mutters. You feel like the breath is knocked from your lungs, needing a moment to gather your thoughts enough to respond. 
Then, you nod, moaning around his finger as he begins fucking you slowly. “You suck me in so well, mm?” he mutters and you wonder if he’s talking about his finger or his cock. Both? You close your eyes, wanting to focus entirely on the feeling of him. “Can feel your hot little tongue… so wet,” he continues, breath hitching when you clench against him. “Fuck.” 
You pull your lips from his finger, turning your head so you can attach your lips to his again. “Love you,” you mumble, “so much.” 
He smiles against your lips then rolls you over, pressing your chest into the mattress as he covers you with his body. His finger finds your lips again, asking for entrance. You kiss the tip then welcome him in, humming around him as he fucks you deep. 
“Gotta keep you quiet…” His breath tickles your neck as he mutters into your shoulder. “...keep sucking my finger while I fill you, hm?” You hum around him. “Good girl…my good girl.” 
Your  focus slips the longer he fucks into you, your mouth eventually falling slack. He slips a second finger between your lips and begins pressing them in and out slowly. “Min,” you mumble around his fingers, struggling to stop your mind slipping away completely. 
“Mm? What is it, baby?” 
You gasp as he pulls back and fucks hard and deep once more, his skin slapping against yours. Then he stills, waiting for your response—his wet fingers tracing over your lips. “Th-thank you,” you manage to get out between shallow breaths. 
“For what?” he asks, his own breath shallow from exertion. 
“For…for taking care of me…” 
He hums, encouraging you to continue. 
“...for fucking me…” 
His fingers press into your mouth again before retreating. 
“...loving me,” you finish. 
He presses his lips to the skin behind your ear. “Don’t need to thank me for that…” he mutters, “just love me back.” 
“Lo-Love you…do…I do.” 
“I know,” he says, pressing one last kiss to your neck before his hips move again—much faster now. His fingers move back to your mouth, not moving anymore—his focus elsewhere. He works himself up, both of you nonverbal now—focused on the feeling of each other. 
When he suddenly pulls back, body lifting off you—a second of panic ripples through your chest at the loss of him. Then his arms wrap around you, pulling you back with him. He fucks you on his lap, wet fingers relocating from your mouth to circle your clit. When you reach your high he pushes you back down onto the bed, fucking into you fast and hard until he joins you. His final moan is high and drawn out, much too loud for where you were and the time of night. You don’t care, a fucked out smile spreading across your face as he collapses beside you. 
When your panting breaths return to normal, and the sounds of nature are the dominant sounds again, you push yourself up on your elbows so you can lean over and kiss his lips gently. “Good?” he asks. 
“Good,” you answer. 
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planetbkg · 2 days ago
Thinking about frenemies to lovers with Alhaitham. Frenemies because the only reason you guys are “friends” is because your moms are lifelong friends.
You two grew up together but realized you didn’t actually like each other around age 7 or so. However, despite your mutual disdain for each other, your moms are still best friends, so your childhoods are full of joint family dinner, holidays, vacations.
You guys sort of alternate between friends and enemies. Friends for six months, enemies for the next. Around the time you two graduate high school, you two are in an enemies phase. You’d both be content if you never saw the other again.
You can’t wait to get rid of each other only to end up at the same university.
Despite what happens between you two, you have always looked out for each other. Like that time you were drunk and all your “friends” ditched you at party they dragged you to.
Alhaitham’s there in less than ten minutes…with a lecture.
“I told you they were no good.”
“Why the hell are you out on a Tuesday night anyway?”
“How are you feeling? Do you want to spend the night at my place?”
Or when he crashes his car in the middle of the night and no one answers his calls.
Except you, of course. You roll out of bed at 2 am and show up to the scene, plaid pajama pants and all.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you want to go to the hospital?”
“The car is totaled. Your parents are going to kill you…How the hell could you be so reckless?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”
This year, Thanksgiving falls when you two are in another enemies phase. It's easier to carpool back to your hometown so even though you currently hate each other, Alhaitham is outside your apartment at noon ready to take you home.
"Thoma doesn't live far from us," you say, teeth chattering from the cold.
"Who the fuck is Thoma?" he asks. "Also, get in. It's freezing."
"My boyfriend."
"So you're gonna trust a guy you've been dating for a few weeks over your lifetime best friend?"
"Best friend, my ass."
"Go get your stuff." Alhaitham says. "Our moms are expecting us to arrive together."
You roll your eyes. He's right, you never told your mom about Thoma let alone that he'd be driving you home for break.
"I'll be back in ten."
Alhaitham doesn't even like you platonically half the time, but hearing you call someone else your boyfriend makes him feel things he didn't know he felt.
Longest car ride of his life.
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webslingingslasher · 2 days ago
Wait a minute, who are you?
Pairing: Peter Parker (mcu) x Reader
Genre: fluff,angst
Word Count: 6.5K
Summary: Peter's been hiding something...
Warnings: mentions of sex, small talk of an old creepy man being an old creepy man
(Part 2 of CRUSH but can be read alone.)
Why was Peter Parker refusing you?
Scratch that, why is your boyfriend rejecting you?
He surely had no issue letting you crawl into his lap after placing the computer in his lap to the left side of his bed, and he definitely didn’t have an issue when his raised eyebrows in question were silenced when you pulled him in for a bruising kiss by the collar of his muted flannel.
But funny enough when you started to trail your hands down to meet the skin beneath the thick cotton, just aching to slide your hands under his shirt and over his toned muscle, and rest your cool palms on his hot, beating chest, his hands caught yours in one.
You almost froze into the kiss, he’s never denied you like this.
You steadied your movements and when he noticed your lack of exploration he loosened the hold on your wrists, your hands this time traveling back up, taking a moment to ease him into your next move. You pulled back for a quick breath and resumed, this time you brought your hands down to the buttons of his flannel, you were barely able to pop one on his chest before he held each hand in his.
Peter pulled away from you, his one word was a whisper.
Your turn to be confused, because, what?
“No.” He shook his head lightly.
“Can I ask why?” He’s never stopped you before, but maybe he’s just not in the mood.
“I just don’t want to tonight.” Peter shrugged his shoulders casually.
But Peter does want to, it’s just that he has a black and purple bruise on quite literally the entire right side of his body. There was no avoiding the questioning, he’s gotten pretty lucky so far, nothing too concerning on his face or body that he couldn’t just play off. But this time he couldn’t think of a story that could justify that, and sometimes when he’s battered he’s had to wait until it was dark in his room, the only light is the moon peaking in the blinds. Or he would have to switch positions for the night, just to get you to keep from looking his way.
And Peter knows it wrong, and one day he’s gonna get caught in something that makes him confess before he’s ready and it will be a bigger issue than it should, but part of him likes that he’s just Peter with you and even though he knows he’s making the wrong decision he doesn’t want to tell you anything until you ask.
You tilt your head at him and purse your lips, trying to see if he was playing at something.
He looked genuine.
“Okay. Do you want to keep making out or do something else? I saw Battleship in your cupboard the other day, I’m sure I could kick your ass.” You grinned at him and played with the lapels of his collar while you waited for a response.
“Hmm, makeout please. Then kick my ass.”
He pulled you in for a kiss, and you tried to be respectful of his no. But old habits die hard and when lost in a daze of Peter’s tongue grazing your own you ground your hips into his. In an act of apology you placed your hand on his waist and squeezed lightly, you pulled from him slightly to mutter an apology.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”
Peter’s face scrunched up, almost like you hurt him.
You glanced at the hand on his waist and grabbed again, he grunted this time. You directed your gaze at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hm? Nothing, you’re good. C’mere.”
You pulled your head back.
“No. What’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong, I don’t know what you mean.”
You narrowed your eyes and squeezed. Peter did his best attempt at a poker face but you did it tightly this time, and even you saw the wobble of his lip in betrayal.
“That doesn’t hurt?”
“I’m fine, baby.” He leaned in for a kiss, if you didn’t know better you would think it’s a distraction.
You squeezed again and this time he removed your hand from him and placed it on his thigh.
“Then let me see.” You tried to move the shirt up but his hand laid on top of yours.
“See what? Nothing is there.”
“Then let me see.”
“Peter!” You whined his name, why was he acting like this?
“Y/N.” He kept his tone neutral, not a good sign. He was getting annoyed.
You wanted to see how far you could push him.
“Are you sore?”
He sighed, he knew in his heart he should’ve just taken up the offer for Battleship.
“No, I’m fine. I promise.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I just said I was fine, baby.”
You pouted at his claim, it was a bold face lie and you both knew it. In a quick moment you raced to throw his shirt up but he locked his hands around your wrists quicker than you could finish the plan.
“Stop.” He was serious this time, no more playing.
You knew he was over the interrogation by his grip, it didn’t hurt but it was tight. He was subtly hinting he would throw you off him if you didn’t stop.
Peter knows you’re confused and probably a little hurt because you knew he was lying and worse, hiding something he didn’t want you to see. He wonders what you’re thinking, if he’s sore from a new workout, or if he has hickeys all over he doesn’t want you to see, or maybe you were really just thinking why he didn’t trust you.
You held your hands up in surrender, this wasn’t fun anymore.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t ask again, maybe it’s sepsis and you’re dying. It’s fine, no big deal.” You lightly teased him, trying to show you weren’t trying to corner him. You just cared.
Peter rolled his eyes, “It’s not sepsis.”
“Oh, so you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“It’s something.”
Peter just looked in your eyes with pursed lips, both of you refused to break eye contact. The room was silent and unmoving for a solid minute.
“I think it’s time for battleship.”
Peter tapped your thighs to get you to get off him so he could stand up and set up the game, you crossed your arms over your chest and challenged him for a moment, calling his bluff. Was he really about to ignore the whole situation?
The answer was yes, he was just blinking back at you and looked confused as to why you weren’t moving off him. He was prepared to let you win, he was just gonna say you were hitting ships even when you weren’t, just to make you feel like you won something against him.
You huffed and pushed off of him.
“Fine. But don’t let me win, I’m going to kick your ass just because I can.”
And even though you kept putting the largest ship in the same place, Peter let you win.
“Ouch, what’s that from?”
You frowned at the small graze across Peter’s face, a superficial cut that ran over his right cheek. You placed a light kiss to the mark as if you could heal it instantly.
“I was walking down 5th and May called and I dropped my phone. When I picked it up I stood back up into a bush, got me a good one.”
“It looks like you got hit with something.” (He did.)
You ran your thumb over the injury.
“Yeah, Mother Nature.”
“That’s not a fight I think you can win, dear. But, now my boyfriend looks like a tough guy.”
Peter can get behind that idea, some big strong man you hide behind who doesn’t take shit from anyone.
“Ah, does that do something for you? I can start picking fights if that’s what you want.”
You scrunch your nose at his teasing, “Nah. I love my soft, mushy boyfriend. He’s so nice and kind, he could never hurt anyone.” (He could.)
And those are the kind of comments that make him feel bad, because how was he supposed to tell you he actually is picking fights and isn’t so nice and kind sometimes.
Too bad your hug is crushing him and all he can feel is what he thinks is the right decision.
“Ah! Fuck, what the fuck!”
Your heart raced and you held a hand over your chest to try and regulate the pulses. Your senses bounced off the brick around you, in an effort to catch your breath from the fright you breathed heavily for a second.
“You scared the fuck out of me.”
“Sorry! I thought you heard me!”
The red and blue hero dropped behind you and didn’t say a word until you felt someone watching you and turned ready to scream out ‘Fire!’ and had the daylights scared out of you.
“It’s fine, just got my blood racing a little.”
“What’s up? Long time no see.”
It’s true. You hadn’t seen the masked vigilante for a moment, he was never around or at least wasn’t around when you were.
“Nothing much. My birthday is about to come up, Peter and I are coming up on six months. But, we're also in a rough patch right now, so yeah. That’s fun.”
Rough patch?
You were in a rough patch?
“Rough patch?”
“Yeah. It’s whatever, I’m sure it’s fine.” You shrugged but if you were being honest you were actually kind of losing sleep over it.
“What do you mean?”
Yeah, what do you mean?
“Uh, he’s hiding something from me. And I can’t tell if it’s something big or not, and I’ve really been trying to be cool but if I’m being honest it’s really starting to fuck with my head.” You gave a small laugh at the end but even he could tell it was forced.
Was him not being honest ruining the relationship?
“When did that start?”
Did he start to let his guard drop?
“I don’t know. I think he’s always been kind of, I don’t know. He’s not like, secretive but he’s kind of private, but not really? I mean I can ask him anything but sometimes I can tell he’s just talking around the topic, you know?”
“And recently it’s been getting worse. Like, sometimes he won’t let me touch him. And I don’t think it's me, it’s just because he doesn’t want to be touched. It’s almost like I’m hurting him, and now I can’t help but think maybe he has trauma or something but that’s not a thing you ask outright. I can’t help but think we’re both waiting for the other to bring it up first.”
He’s made his girlfriend feel like shit.
That’s not being the best boyfriend he promised he would be.
“I think you’re right. It not being a you thing, I mean. Maybe he has something he’s not ready to share yet.”
You let out a heavy sigh.
“I know. And I know this sounds shitty, because I want him to work this out on his own and come to me when he’s ready. But, I also want to know I’m not crazy and that there is something he’s hiding. And I can’t just ask if he’s hiding something out of the blue because then he’s going to lie and I really, really hate that he’s been lying. And we both fucking know it, I mean he just looks at me and we both know what he said was a lie but neither of us comment on it.”
Yeah, he feels like shit.
“I just…” You trail off, and for the first time in the past two weeks spiral you cry. And you cry hard, your breaths tremble and you squat with your head between your knees to collapse the spinning thoughts around you.
Peter doesn’t know what the fuck to do.
Because he wants to wrap himself around you and tell you it’s okay.
But he doesn’t think Spider-Man would do that.
So he doesn’t.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, just breathe okay?”
You sniffle and rub your eyes.
“I just really, really love him. Why doesn’t he trust me?” Your voice broke and Peter had to look directly into your teary eyes through his mask and tell you he doesn’t know.
It was another Saturday night where Peter was rejecting your advances.
It has been happening more frequently, not super often but enough to make you question something. Peter has just been more on edge, and now that he knows you’re looking for something he doesn’t want to risk it.
You pulled from him and sighed.
“What’s the no for this time?”
He feels like he should be honest.
So he is.
“I have a bad bruise and it hurts, I scraped up my side and it’s ugly.”
“Can I see it?”
“I don’t really want you to.”
At least he was being honest, and that is something you’ll take.
“Okay. Thanks for telling me.” You grinned at him, and pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth.
“Can I ask what happened?”
“I rubbed it against a building, no biggie.” (He was swinging quite fast and was too busy looking at a pigeon trying to fly off with a whole sandwich.)
“Ouch.” You frowned and looked down at his torso.
“Where is it?”
Peter ran a hand over his left rib area and you ducked your head down to place feather light kisses over his shirt.
He sighed and rubbed at the back of your head.
“Feels better already.”
“Let me kiss it better.”
Peter pulled his hand away from you and hid it, he didn’t want you to kiss it better. You had just walked in two seconds after he dropped the suit from his body, his cheeks glew at the wolf whistle you gave his mostly naked body.
You clocked in on his scraped knuckles, you weren’t sure how it happened but you’ve learned Peter is pretty clumsy. He was usually scraped, cut or bruised somewhere but never so much it drew out real questions you wouldn’t let him escape from.
Peter on the other hand tried to play it off, but in reality he hasn’t washed the blood from his hand yet and he’s not sure whose it is. Was it his or was it from the teeth scraping across as he punched some guy in the jaw a few dozen times?
He didn’t want you to kiss a stranger's blood, even if you took it as rejection he wouldn’t give in and let you win.
“It’s okay, baby. Doesn’t hurt.” (It actually didn’t this time.)
“But it’s my job to kiss your boo-boos.”
“Not tonight, I’d rather kiss you.”
He’s gotten better at redirecting your thoughts.
“I’m okay with that, but don’t put on pants. Just a waste of time.”
You winked at his boxers and nibbled on your bottom lip.
Tonight he didn’t object.
Everything Peter was scared of happening was happening right now.
He doesn’t know how you got here, and he doesn’t know how he stumbled upon you but he is so glad he did. You were currently soaking wet and shivering while heaving breaths, your face was red and wet, he wasn’t sure if it was the rain or tears.
What you were doing in the pouring rain almost two hours into the Bronx is beyond him, he just wanted you home, dry and safe.
“What’s going on?” His panicked questioning made you cry harder.
“I’m not, I don’t, please help me. Please.”
“Okay, okay. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you. Can you do that for me?”
Peter watched as you calmed your breath, shoulders shaking from the cold rain on bare skin. Your breaths came in stutters as you tried to speak.
“My phone is dead and I don’t know where I am. I fell asleep on the train and I had to get off and I tried staying in the station but this old fucking creep was following me around,”
Peter’s heart sank.
You were terrified, lost and cold.
“So I came out here and I forgot my jacket at Peter’s and, and, and. I really need him, can you call him please?”
Peter froze.
He can’t call Peter, he is Peter.
“I don’t have his number, I can help you, it's okay.”
Spider-Man tried to reach for your arm but you recoiled and broke into a sob.
“No. Please call Peter, please. I know his number, I would call him on the payphone, I tried but that guy came up right behind me and was pressing into me.”
He felt worse by the second.
You just really, really needed him.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“It’s your job! You’re supposed to help. Please call my boyfriend.” You became bitter but it was just nerves.
“I can’t. I can’t give out my number like that, you have to understand. I can get you back home safely, that’s the best I can offer.”
“I don’t want to go alone, he can come. He will come, just call him. He won’t leave me here, I know he won't.”
He knows he wouldn’t either.
But he’s not Peter right now, and he can’t be no matter how much you need him.
“I’ll ride with you. Just so you’re not alone, would that be okay?” He was almost pleading with you, out of every other time he wants this one to be the time where you just shut up and listen.
“I just really don’t want you right now, I’m sorry.” You sniffled and shuffled away from him, blinking away the rain droplets on your eyelashes.
Peter doesn’t know what to say.
You won’t listen to Spider-Man, it’s not who you want.
“Would you come with me to call him? I understand you can’t call him but just so I don’t have to go back down there alone, please?”
Now he has to watch you get ignored 3 times because he can’t answer, he’s right next to you. And he’s staring down the old guy four benches down looking you up and down from the side. After the third call with no answer you slammed the phone down on the hook.
“I don’t know why he didn’t answer. The one time I really, really needed him to answer he didn’t.”
Peter really wishes he could tell you he’s right there, just one arm length away.
“Let me take you home, he probably just has unknown callers silenced. No need to panic, okay?” Peter cautioned the words scared for a blow up on your end but it was worse, it was defeat.
It was disappointment.
It was hurt.
Peter had let you down.
And he watched himself do it.
“What if he calls back?”
“He can’t. You can’t call payphones back.”
Peter isn’t sure if that’s true, but he does know that the phone will never ring.
“Okay. You can take me home.”
Three stops before yours you told Spider-Man he could leave. You promised you would be okay and that you really appreciated him taking the hours out of his evening to get you home even after you freaked out on him.
As soon as the doors opened you were met with the worried eyes of your boyfriend, a smile broke over his face as you stepped through. You were confused but more than anything, you were safe, comforted, and warm. He was so, so warm. And he had a jacket for you.
“How did you know I was here?” Your cold nose was buried in his shoulder.
“Private caller. They left me a message and said you were here and waiting for me, heard you got a little lost.”
“I was so so sacred. Spider-Man found me, and I was begging him to call you. I wonder if he did, I called you three times.”
“On the payphone? I have unknown callers silenced, from now on I’ll keep them on okay? I’m sorry you were scared, it’s a good thing Spidey was there huh?”
You shook your head and pressed into him for a hug.
“There isn’t anyone or anything that makes me feel safer than being right here.”
Peter decided then he has to tell you.
It’s fair you’re pissed at Peter.
He knows it’s fair, he just hopes you’ll still date him after this.
And of course he was right, you found out before he was ready to tell you and he knows it’s gone on too long, and there wasn’t going to be an easy way to break the news but you finding out on your own made you spiral into a frenzy and now you refused to speak to him.
He had just washed his suit, and with the technology he couldn’t dry it so on wash days he kept it hung in his closet to air dry until he would use it that night.
Then you came over and rolled around in his bed, then begged him to make you a grilled cheese, then begged to watch the new season of reality TV on Netflix, which he hates but knows you love the drama. He also feels a little good because the whole time you cling to his arm and watch the guys berate their new fiancès and tell Peter you’re so glad he doesn’t act like that.
It was totally normal until the evening.
You had asked to take a shower before dinner, and sat on his bed with your wet hair dripping down your pajama shirt, and his fan iced the droplets and it sent chills up your back. You were planning on spending the night and so in your shivers you dug yourself under his blankets but the cold had already settled into your bones and you were contemplating getting a hoodie of Peter’s out of his closet.
You were almost at his closet doors when he interfered.
“I’m cold.”
“C’mere.” He opened his arms for a hug but his warmth wasn’t settling the chill in your body.
“Want to do chinese? If not, we can do that pasta thing again.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure yet. I’m too cold to decide, I’m gonna grab a hoodie.”
You broke from the hug and Peter stepped to the side in front of you again.
“I can grab it.”
You rolled your eyes with a grin, you’re not sure if Peter’s love language was more acts of service or physical touch.
“It’s okay, I can manage.”
You tried to step to the side once more but he followed you.
“No really, I insist.”
Even with a smile on his face you saw the slight panic, he didn’t want you in his closet.
“What? Are you hiding your other girlfriend in there or something?”
He was hiding something in there for sure. Just not another girl.
“Oh yeah, there’s another one under the bed too. I’m surprised you didn’t see the third one hiding in the shower.”
A shudder ran down your spine and you were able to place a hand on the closet handle before Peter leaned against the doors so they wouldn’t open.
“I got it.”
You furrowed your brow at him, why was he acting like this?
“Yeah, I can too.”
“No really, let me.”
You don’t know why but suddenly you were warm with slight rage, why was he being so fascitous? There was no reason for him to be trying so hard to keep you from opening the doors but there was.
And you didn’t know why.
“No. Let me.”
You pulled at the handle but it didn’t budge under Peter resting against it.
“Peter, move.”
He thinks this is the moment. You’re about to find out and he’s terrified.
“Baby I don’t mind, let me take care of you.” This was his last plea, hiding behind wanting to take care of you and not because he was trying to hide his suit. Not at all.
“What are you hiding?” You jiggled the handle again.
“What? Nothing.”
“No, it’s something.” You weren’t even cold anymore, this was about standing your ground.
“I don’t-“
You cut him off, you were done with the lies.
“Then move.”
Peter stayed silent this time.
He was about to let you in.
He was about to watch the other shoe drop.
You pushed his shoulder to move him off the door and he stumbled away while holding his breath. He wasn’t even as half as nervous when May found out.
You opened the door and let out a breath.
“See? Did it just fine on my own.”
Your hand ran across the right rack looking through the hooded collection searching for your favorite. You didn’t get why he was so adamant on you not doing this yourself, there was absolutely no issue.
You slipped the thick blue fleece off the hanger and turned sideways to close the door, and when the door was almost shut your breath hitched, did you just see what you thought?
Peter stayed still, he knows you saw.
You slowly cracked the door back open and looked at the left rack. And it was there, hung up. Just spandex and so innocent looking, you almost told yourself it was just an authentic replica. A costume.
But you knew better.
And by his reaction, or lack of, was answer enough.
You dropped the sweatshirt to the ground and ran a thumb over the shoulder of the suit, the same texture that was on your cheek when you asked him to not beat up Peter.
Peter was Spider-Man.
Your boyfriend was Spider-Man.
You confided in him several times, about him.
You felt so dirty, and played, and dumb, and belittled. Each time you talked with him replayed in your mind, every conversation and accusation.
It was so unfair.
Peter always had the upper hand, and you weren’t even aware he did.
Peter just watched your reaction, your thumb didn’t move. You didn’t move, just stayed still until your hand dropped and when you turned to look at him he stayed silent waiting for you to break the ice.
He was going to wait until you asked him a question or all of them, but you didn’t. You just shook your head at him and shoulder checked him as you walked out his room and headed to grab your bag by the front door to leave.
“Hey, hey, hey. Stop, let’s talk.”
“You don’t want me to talk to you right now.” You sounded so bitter, so hurt, so angry.
“Yes I do, let me hear it.”
“No. I literally don’t even want to see you right now.”
Peter moved to stand in front of the door and true to your word you had your head turned to the wall in effort not to look at him. Even seeing him, watching him try to handle this with ease unsettled you. He didn’t realize how uncomfortable you felt right now.
“Baby, let’s talk, okay? I’ll answer any questions.”
You laughed bitterly at his words, funny now he was the king of honesty.
“You know maybe you can send Spider-Man out to collect all the intel on Peter and I’s issues.”
“Hey, that’s not what I meant to happen.”
“Fuck off, Peter. I really, really don’t want to be around you. But, you know, I’m sure Spidey will track me down and ask me about an issue he somehow knows I’m having.”
He shook his head and tried to defend himself, “That’s not-“
“That’s not how it happened, I get it. The first time was a fluke, I’ll give you that. But every other time you knew who I was, and what I wanted. You played into it, you should’ve ignored me. You shouldn’t have kept tracking me down or talking to me, you had an unfair advantage the entire time.”
“You should’ve never talked to me as him after I told him I liked you. That is dirty behavior and now I really don’t trust you, I mean what else are you hiding?”
Peter knows in his heart this was deserved, he knows what you mean, and you’re not wrong. He knows in his heart that he only cared and was checking up on you but to you it felt like he was playing you.
“I know, I know. I wanted to tell you, I really did, I swear. I just really liked that you didn’t know, and it wasn’t even sadistic, I just liked being just me around you. I didn’t want to explain every detail of what I do, or what I did that night, you know?”
“No, Peter. I really don’t know, I didn’t talk to you like a third party person and pretend like I didn’t actually know you. I was only honest with you, and you weren’t. I genuinely don’t know what is real or a lie anymore.”
You were hurt and confused and honestly it was fucking hard with your head, did he act or say certain things because you told Spider-Man what you wanted?
Was he ever going to actually tell you?
“I love you. And I know I messed up, but I promise nothing was a lie. Everything I told you about Peter as Spider-Man was true.”
And Peter was being honest, he didn’t mean to mess it up this hard. He knew you wouldn’t be happy but he didn’t expect you to question the entire relationship.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I know I should’ve but I didn’t want this to happen.”
He pointed between you two and your face hardened, he didn’t understand your point.
“This isn’t happening because you didn’t tell me you were Spider-Man, I get why you didn’t tell me. This is happening because you kept using it to your advantage, and you knew what you were doing. You should have left me alone. That’s why this is happening.”
Peter wasn’t sure how to navigate this anymore, everything he said was the wrong thing. Maybe you were right, he should’ve let you leave, you weren’t ready to talk about this right now.
He let out a sigh and rubbed at his forehead, he understood that you needed space and talking it out was making it worse.
“Okay, okay. I know you’re mad, and hurt and upset with me right now. And I don’t want to fix that, I just want you to work through this with me, okay?”
“Do you want to leave? If you need time away from me it’s okay.”
You threw your backpack over a shoulder and passed by him towards the door before he grabbed your wrist.
“I’m sorry, and I love you.”
“I know you are.”
Peter frowned at the response.
“You’ll call me if you need something right? We’re okay for now?”
You nodded at him and pulled your wrist from his grasp.
“We’re okay. I love you. I’ll call you later.”
At least you said you loved him back, but he couldn’t help but feel off after watching you leave without a glance back.
Peter feels like he’s really, really messed up.
Peter whipped his head down at you, he wasn’t expecting you to approach him in the suit, especially after yesterday. You hadn’t talked to him for a whole twenty four hours and he actually felt like he was going crazy. And he didn’t realize how often he texts or snapchats you or sends links until he decided to leave the contact up to you.
He wasn’t upset at you, you were upset at him so he thinks it’s fair that you come to him first. But he really wasn’t expecting that it would be a day later, maybe a few days at least if he was basing it off of how upset you were yesterday.
“I missed you.” You sniffled.
“I missed you, too.”
Peter watched you slowly trying to gauge your reaction, he genuinely couldn’t tell what you were thinking and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Wanna talk?”
You nodded your head slowly, and looked around the space you were in wondering if it was a quiet enough spot. Off the busy street you tucked away into the corner of the alleyway, your eye catching the webbed bag up the wall.
He jumped off the roof and followed you and waited for you to talk, he watched as you soaked him in for a second. You’ve seen Spider-Man before but now knowing he was Peter you looked at him differently, you were drawing over his curves and dips with your eyes and you reached out to run a hand down his front.
“Can I… Can you take off your mask?”
In an instant he pulled it off and you watched as his hair fell down in a fluff, you reached a hand out to smooth over the curls, trying your best to place it the way he normally has it despite knowing it was about to get ruined.
“Feels weird seeing you in the suit, it’s like you’re cosplaying.”
“How do you put it on?” You traced over his chest and then turned him around as you searched for a zipper.
“The spider.” He lightly ran his glove over the emblem and without understanding the concept you pressed the spider confused with the steps.
“Oop!” Your arms flailed as you were unsure what to do, in one motion the suit expanded and quite literally fell off his body. Even hiding in the corner you tried to shield him from any outside views.
Peter giggled as you fumbled around, he drew the suit back up and grabbed your hand to press the spider as it conformed back into his shape.
“Sorry, I didn’t know it would do that.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled warmly and you were desperate to kiss him so you did.
“What’s up?”
You bit the inside of your cheek and pondered on what to say, or more what to ask. More than anything knowing that your boyfriend was now an open book and was willing to answer any questions you had.
“Can you see out of that?”
You pointed at the mask in his hand.
“Mhm.” He nodded.
You couldn’t picture how, it looked like mesh. In fact when you ran your thumb over it, it felt like mesh.
“Well my senses make it hard to-“
“No, how did it happen? How are you him?”
“A spider bite. Radioactive spider, I didn’t realize until the next morning that something was up. I woke up and felt like my head was splitting open cause I could hear the entire city in my head.”
“When I was 15.”
“Who else knows?”
“May, MJ and Ned.”
You nodded slowly, everyone knew.
And you didn’t.
“If it makes you feel better it’s not just you I never told, everyone just found out on their own.”
You hummed and nodded your head.
“So everytime you said no to sex you were hiding a Spidey ingury?”
You didn’t know how to move forward, what happened next? Do you forget what happened?
You do understand why he didn’t say anything, but he also should’ve never interfered after the first time. You can’t help but feel a little violated, and it’s not like you cared Peter knew what you said, it’s how he was hearing that bothered you.
“I’m still upset at you.”
You sniffled again and rolled a pebble under your foot, you watched Peter frown before looking behind you and pulling you into him and behind the dumpster.
You pulled a face of confusion until you heard chattering voices and group laughs walking by the clearance. His strong hearing impressed you, it was new seeing him react to his senses in front of you.
“I know, baby. And I understand, I know what I did was wrong. And I don’t want to try and justify it but, in my mind I was just caring for you. I didn’t even think of it like that, and I don’t know why I didn’t. Cause I’d be peeved if the situation was swapped.”
Peter was honest, he knew after sulking all night he was wrong. He did exploit his position but he just loved you and cared for you and just wanted you to feel safe and heard, but you wanted to do all of that with Peter, not Spider-Man.
“You know what hurts me the most?”
Peter doesn’t want to hear it.
“No, what?”
“When you didn’t tell me that day when I got lost. I was fucking petrified and I needed you, you saw how much I needed you and you just went along with the story. Looking back on that now I just feel so hurt.”
Peter felt his heart drop.
He let you down.
He knows he did that day.
It just really hurt having you confirm his fears.
“It really, really hurt me not to tell you. And that doesn’t compare to how you felt, I just want you to know that even though I caused this, I didn’t feel good doing it.”
Peter wasn’t evil, he was a sweet boy. Just a little unaware.
And that’s what you loved most about him.
“That's it, right? No more secrets?”
Peter laughed and nodded his head.
“That’s it. I promise.”
“Total transparency?”
You raised your hand to shake his and spread your fingers over his gloved hand, warmth seeking into your palms.
“Total transparency.”
You bit your lip and over exaggerated your hand shake.
“Good. Cause I have some questions.”
“I’ll answer all of them.”
“Okay! Did you get all your powers at once or was it one at a time? How fast can you swing? How slow can you swing? Have you ever hit a bird? When do you eat? Wait, how do you pee? How do your webs work? Please don’t say they come out of you.”
You paused for a gulp of air and watched Peter’s eyes go wide.
“Are all your senses effected? Can you super smell now? And how do your senses work? Could I wear the mask? Or does it only work for your head? Wait, do you know Tony Stark? Could I meet Tony Stark? Do you have a room at the Avengers tower? Is Tony Stark cool? Can you-“
“Baby breathe.”
Peter watched your face grow in color while you continued to ask away, and if he was honest he needed you to stop for a minute.
“Sorry! I’m just curious.”
You watched Peter try and mentally checklist the questions so he could respond and you bit your cheek while he counted the questions. Your mind started to wander off.
“So if you were swinging through-“
Peter now thinks this is the worst case scenario of you finding out about his alter ego.
470 notes · View notes
word-wytch · a day ago
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Don't Stand So Close To Me
Eddie x Teacher!Reader
Chapter 1/? 3.5k
Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.
Tags/cw: forbidden romance, slow burn, perv!eddie, eventual smut (18+ mdni), true love, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)
A/N: I've poured my heart and soul into this one. It will be novel length when finished and I have too many delicious moments planned to count. Please share it and let me know what you think! Your feedback is my lifeblood.
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Fourth period English was the only class that Eddie Munson could seem to pay attention in, though not exactly to the lessons. 
He propped his cheek against his knuckles as he watched you from the back of the classroom.
“See, everything is filtered through Holden’s limited first person narration, so we get really pure insight into how he sees the world, but we also have to take it with a grain of salt,” you said, delicate heels clicking against the tile floor as you paced back and forth. “We see what he pays attention to, and therefore what we ought to pay attention to as readers.”
Eddie’s eyes traced the curve of your waist, over the back of your tweed pencil skirt as you turned to place the chalk back on the ledge at the bottom of the board. It was hugging you in all the right places, as it did every time you wore it. His favorite.
“Alright let’s break out the quotes and notes assignment from chapter ten. Who would like to share their thoughts on a quote with the class?” 
Your eyes scanned the room. Students shifted in their chairs in an awkward silence before a hand shot up in the front row. 
“Nancy,” you smiled and gestured to her, “Take the floor.” 
“Ok so one of the quotes I picked out was where he says ‘I damn near gave my kid sister Phoebe a buzz, though. I certainly felt like talking to her on the phone. Someone with sense and all.’ I think it’s really interesting that he says that she has sense,” said Nancy.
Eddie barely registered a word of what Nancy said. He was too transfixed on your shirt, the way the fabric parted at the buttons when you leaned in just the right way. Sometimes if he was lucky he could catch a flash of skin, a glimpse of delicate lace from your bra. It almost made him wish he would have picked a seat closer to the front of the class. 
Nancy continued. “Right now he’s surrounded by very mature things at the hotel that he’s trying to make sense of and has really negative opinions about. He keeps thinking of his little sister though, and that’s always positive, so that’s in contrast to the rest of what’s going on.”
“Thank you, Nancy, that’s exactly right. A juxtaposition, very perceptive of you.”
Eddie shifted in his seat, feeling his pants start to tighten. 
“Does anyone else have a quote they’d like to share their thoughts on with the class?”
Chairs creaked, a few legs scooted loudly against the floor in the restless silence. A sniffle.
“Come on, Nancy can’t carry this entire class.” You tapped your fingers on the desk behind you. “Well, I know she could but I’m not going to let her,” you said, giving her a little wink.
Still silence. 
“Alright, fine.” You glanced around at the rows of averted eyes until yours settled on the young man in the leather jacket seated at the very back far right corner of the classroom. “Eddie,” you said with a gentle smile. 
His dark eyes shot up, face flushing. 
“Do you have any thoughts on what you read in chapter ten last night?”
Eddie licked his lips, casting his eyes downward in thought. “I uh,” his mouth was like cotton, “No I don’t really think I… understood the chapter,” he said, giving a sheepish grin. The soft pout of disappointment on your pretty lips made his stomach drop.
“I don’t think he can even read the chapter,” muttered the blonde athlete in the seat next to him.  
“Jason,” you began, but Eddie didn’t miss a beat.
“I don’t think you can even read your girlfriend,” he said, to which the class awakened audibly.
Jason shot daggers at Eddie. “Why don’t you quit talking to her and find a girlfriend closer to your  age, huh? There’s plenty at the senior home across the street.”
The class erupted in laughter.
“Stop it, both of you!” you shouted over the din. “The next person to make another sound has detention,” you said sternly. The class grew quiet again, allowing space for your voice to soften. “Eddie, please see me after class.”
“Oooh,” mocked Jason as he sat back and laughed.
“Jason, detention.”
“What? No!”
“I told you, the next person to speak has detention. I don’t make idle threats.”
Eddie’s lips curled into a satisfied grin as he watched you command the room.
“Please,” Jason begged,  “It’s the last practice before the game tomorrow.”
“No. You can use your time in detention to work on practicing some self control.”
Jason huffed and shot Eddie another glare but Eddie’s eyes were fixed on his desk, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his face contorted. It took all of his strength to bite back a laugh.
You sighed and leaned back on your desk at the front of the classroom. “Now then,” you started, composing yourself, “I’ll be very curious to read all of your assigned journal entries from this chapter, since clearly so many of you have something to say.”
Chairs shifted. A cough.
“Alright, pass them forward,” you said, gesturing to the class. 
The room was filled with the sound of sheets being torn from notebooks, binders opening, paper shuffling. The students passed the pages forward up the four rows and you walked by to collect them.
“Why don’t we spend the last fifteen minutes of class silently reading the book, hm? Then maybe tomorrow we might have something to talk about.”
You returned to sit at your desk with the papers as the students opened up their books. 
Eddie dug his beat up copy of The Catcher in the Rye out of the mess of his backpack. The red, soft cover spine was beginning to peel away from abuse.
He opened it up to a random page and began to gloss over the words but none of them registered. His mind was too full of other images — the arch of your back, the way you toyed at your lips with your finger in thought, of what you would look like bent over that desk of yours with him on top of you.
Fifteen minutes passed like this. The bell rang. 
Eddie waited in his seat as the other students filed out of the classroom, turning to bury the book in his backpack in an effort to avoid Jason, but it didn’t matter.
“Watch it, freak. I mean it, I’ve got my eyes on you,” said Jason, to which Eddie simply raised his eyebrows in mock fear.
After the last student left, Eddie slowly approached you, dragging his feet a little as he walked. 
You swiped the last of the chalk from the board with the eraser, leaving a small cloud of dust as you turned to face him. 
“Sorry for the outburst today.” The chain on his wrist rattled as he brought a hand to his chest, “I meant no disrespect,” he said earnestly. “Well, I did to Jason, but never to you.”
You returned a soft smile, “Thanks, I appreciate the apology even though I can see that you weren’t exactly the instigator.” 
“Yeah, well, Jason, like any basic primate, seems to think that any male who comes within three feet of his mate is a threat.”
A snort escaped you. Basic primate.  
Eddie’s eyes crinkled, his smile contagious. “Besides, Chrissy’s the one who came over to talk to me anyway.”  
You sighed and shook your head, not really knowing what to say.
“Sorry, I know, I’ll stop.”
You gave him a gracious look and took a deep breath to compose yourself, “Eddie,” you started.
His mouth curved ever so slightly as he relished in the way his name rolled off your tongue.
“We’ve been in class for about a month now,” you began, “You haven’t turned in an assignment in the last two weeks.”
Eddie scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”
“Now I might be new to teaching here, but I know this isn’t your first time in this class, nor your second. Clearly there must be some part of you that wants to graduate, or else you would have just dropped out two years ago, right?” you asked, searching his eyes. “You don’t strike me as the sort of person who does anything they don’t want to do.”
Eddie smirked, “It’s only been a month and you already know me so well, miss.”
There was something about the way that he said it that brought a heat to your cheeks. You tucked your hair behind your ear in an attempt to hide it. “Well, what do you think we can do about this little conundrum then? I don’t want to see you fail.” 
“I dunno, maybe I just… need a little help?” he said sheepishly.  
You hummed, bringing a curved finger to your lips in thought. “I want to help you, but you have to be willing to put in some effort.”
“I know, I’ve been totally slacking. That’s on me. I can change that,” he said assuredly, “I promise.”
You smiled softly at his earnestness. “If you’re willing to put in the effort, I would be open to tutoring you. I have some time after school today if you want to stop by my classroom, we can come up with a game plan then.”
Eddie’s dark eyes widened at the suggestion, “I’d appreciate that very much, miss.”
You gave a nod, “Sure thing. I’ll see you after school then. I’ll be here.”
 “See ya later,” he said, grabbing his well worn backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Oh, and,” he turned back toward you, closing the distance between you even further. His eyes lingered over your lips for a moment before meeting your gaze again, “Thank you.”
“Of course,” you half whispered.
You turned toward your desk to gather the papers in as neat a pile as you could manage with the frayed edges left by spiral notebooks and placed them in your fourth period grading folder. The bell rang out again through the halls signaling lunch period. You grabbed your purse from under your desk and closed the classroom door behind you. 
Walking through the halls of Hawkins High was like a strange recurring dream. Same drop ceiling, same tile floor. Same weird smell when you walked past the science room. The same cliques too — the jocks, the burnouts, the party animals. This time with less bell bottoms and fringe, more leg warmers and hairspray. Surprisingly little had changed. 
You opened the door to the teacher’s lounge adjacent to the cafeteria. The wood paneled walls and old carpet were much less familiar to you than the hallways and classrooms you had spent countless hours in. It was strange to be on this side of things now.
“How’s your day going so far, sweetie?” chimed Ms. Click, putting the glass coffee pot back on the warmer. 
“Oh, you know, just another day of pulling teeth from my class. I swear Nancy Wheeler was the only one who read the chapter last night.”
A swoon swept across the room. “Oh Nancy, she really is such a bright star isn’t she?” Ms. Click remarked, her voice sweet like table sugar.  “You know she kind of reminds me of you when you were her age, doesn’t she, Doris?” 
Doris O’Donnell hummed and pursed her lips with a little nod.
“Well, smarts-wise anyway. Boy I try not to pick favorites but you certainly were a pleasure to have in class. If I’m remembering right you were valedictorian, weren’t you?” 
You offered a weak smile, “Yep, class of ’74.”
“’74? Goodness it hasn’t been that long has it? Gosh we sure are getting old aren’t we?” she called over to Ms. O’Donnell, the beads on her glasses chain rattling as she laughed, “Oh goodness I don’t mean you sweetie,” she said, putting her hand on yours reassuringly, “Heck if I didn’t know you I would have mistaken you for a student!”
“Thank you Ms. — I mean Peggy.” You grabbed a mug from the stack and turned it over in your hands. #1 Teacher. The matte apple and text printed on the front of it was fading with age. You filled it with coffee and and grabbed a small open milk carton sitting nearby, watching the cream swirl in the mug before taking a seat at one of the three round tables with plastic veneer to look like wood. 
“Gosh, you know I don’t mean to pry, but with such a pretty face to match the good head on your shoulders I would have thought you’d have a different last name by now.”
You stared into your coffee, feeling the ghost of the ring on your finger. “Ah, yeah. Almost, but… it didn’t work out.” 
“Oh — I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t realize.”
“It’s um — it’s fine.”
“You know there’s plenty of lovely young bachelors at St. Michael’s, we’re having a potluck tonight if you want to come.” 
It took all of your strength to hide a visible grimace. Sounds delightful. “No thanks, I can’t. I’ve offered to tutor a student after school today.”
“Who might that be?” asked Ms. Click.
“Eddie Munson.” 
The whole room groaned. 
Ms. O’Donnell cackled from her corner, her toad-like face contorting. “Good luck. I’ve been stuck with him for the last three years. Honestly I don’t know why he’s still in school. He’s too old to be here anymore if you ask me.”
Your eyes shot up from your coffee. “Well, he must have some desire to be here or otherwise he wouldn’t be. Isn’t it our duty as teachers to help students achieve milestones?” 
Ms. O’Donnell huffed, “Oh yeah, he needs help alright. None that I can give him though.” 
“I can imagine that help would be a difficult thing to offer while putting him down.”
She snorted, “Sure sweetie. Say some magic words of encouragement, that’ll do the trick. Hey, pick me up a little fairy dust too while you’re at it.” 
Laughter rang out across the teachers lounge.
Your lips formed a hard line as you popped open the tupperware container which held your salad.  
“Keep us posted, will you? We’re all dying to know how it goes.”
You could hear the lockers slamming shut as the din in the hallway began to die down, students filtering out with the last bell of the day. You flipped through the pile of notebook papers on your desk, making small notes on each one with a green pen before setting them onto the neat pile in front of you. You never liked to use red, too harsh. 
There was a strange feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t seem to shake. You wondered if perhaps the chicken on your salad had sat in the fridge for a few days too many. 
Your eyes shot up from your papers as you heard footsteps at the door. “Hey, Eddie.”
Eddie flashed you a smile and a little wave as he dragged a chair from the far corner of the room to the empty spot across from you and plunked himself down in it.
“How are you?” you asked.
“Oh, you know, just another day in suburban paradise.”
You chuckled dryly, “Yeah, you could say that again.”
Eddie fiddled with his rings, twisting them as he looked at you with those big dark eyes.
“So first off, let’s talk about the book we’re reading in class. Have you read any of it?”
“I did read the first few chapters, kind of lost interest though, sorry,” he admitted.
You nodded curtly. “The Catcher in the Rye seems to be a fairly polarizing book from my experience. Some students love it, others hate it. I myself am in the former camp, of course. I tend to find that most of the people who don’t like it just don’t quite understand it.”
Eddie gave a short puff of air through his nose. “I could say the same thing about most of the shit I’m interested in.”  
You smiled sympathetically. “Is reading not really your thing?”
“Actually, contrary to the opinion of a certain primate, I do like to read.”
You raised your eyebrows, “Really? Like what?”
“Fantasy mostly, The Lord of the Rings, really anything Tolkien writes. I’ve read those books a few times through actually,” he said, “Probably kind of stupid to read the same thing over and over when you could be reading other things, but — ”
“No, that’s not stupid at all! I’ve read them more than once too, actually.” Your eyes were sparkling. “They’re some of my favorites.”
Eddie sat back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips. “You? A geek? Never would have guessed.”
You smirked at him. You couldn’t quite tell if he was being sarcastic or serious. “Actually incorporating world building with storytelling the way that Tolkien does is something I’ve always tried to emulate in my own writing.”
“Your own writing?” Eddie shifted in his chair, leaning in.
“Oh, yeah,” you said, glancing downward, wishing you could suck the words back into your mouth.  
“You write books?”
“I… don’t know if you could quite call them books if they aren’t published, or totally finished but — I do like to write stories.”
Eddie’s eyes were enormous. “Can I read them? Oh please let me read them.”
You instantly wished that your foundation was full coverage enough to hide how red your face was. “Oh jeez, I don’t know, it’s been ages since I’ve even looked at them myself.”
Eddie leaned in even more, his elbows on the desk. “Come on,” his smile was so disarming, “What,  you think I’m gonna like, judge you or something?”
You looked down at the papers you were grading and clicked the pen in your hand. “I don’t know, writing is such an oddly… personal thing.” 
“Please? You know I’m like the last person to be passing judgement on something like that, right?”
You sighed. His eyes were big, and wet, and pleading and you cursed yourself for being stirred by them. “Ok, how about this, if you can get your grades up, get at least a B in one of your classes, I’ll let you read one of my stories.”
Eddie sat back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear. “Challenge accepted.”
You tucked your hair behind your ear as you met his smile, “Whatever motivates you,” you said trying not to think too hard about the implications of the deal you just made. “You know, what I really want to talk about is the creative writing assignment you turned in the first week of class.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That bad, huh?”  
“No! Actually not bad at all. Actually quite good. You’re very creative, Eddie.”
“Oh is that what they’re calling it these days?” he deflected.
“No, I’m serious. You’ve written stories before, haven’t you?”
“Well, I am the dungeon master for my DnD club.”
You squinted your eyes curiously at him.
“Oh! So basically, I come up with the plot of the story that they players are going to play. I create the world essentially, lead them through the story. Well, to some extent. The monsters are all from a guidebook but the plot is all me.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Creativity and leadership.”
Eddie chuckled and scratched the back of his head to distract from the heat creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah, well, doesn’t change the fact that I’m 20 years old and still in high school.”
“About that,” you started, “Why do you want to graduate? Maybe if you can identify the reason for reaching your goal, then you can find the motivation to work toward it. Besides wanting to read my stories anyway, like a personal reason.”
Eddie sat back in his chair for a moment, biting his lip in thought. “Uhh, maybe to prove all the assholes in this god forsaken purgatory wrong?”
You laughed, probably a bit too hard. “I think that’s an excellent reason.”
Eddie beamed. “See, I knew I liked you.”
You coyly returned his smile and fidgeted with the pen in your hand again. “Let’s figure out a day or two when we can meet weekly. Got any after school conflicts?”
“My band plays at the Hideout Tuesday nights, Fridays I’ve got Hellfire Club.”
“How about Mondays and Wednesdays then? Does that work for you?”
“Sure does.”
“Great, and I can help you with other classes too, to the best of my ability anyway. Show you how best to study, how to approach papers and essays — that sort of stuff.”
“Looking forward to it,” he said softly.
 The feeling in your stomach was back again. “Me too.”
Thank you so much for reading, tons more to come! Comments and reblogs keep me going! 🙏
Tag list: @ooo-protean-ooo @toxicjayhoo @mermaidsandcats29 @jadequeen88 @msgexymunson @wroteclassicaly @inknopewetrust @storiesbyrhi @kissmyacdc @cherry-vamps @willgrahamspsycheval
There are some of you are on this list who I talked to about this months ago! Sorry it took me a while to get this up but I’ve spent the last month outlining this monstrosity. That’s mostly out of the way now so updates should be pretty regular, like once a week. 💕
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jellieland · a day ago
Cub is starting to feel like he isn’t a very popular person at the moment.
It’s odd. People give him wary looks, and step back when he steps closer, and politely end conversations with him. But everyone seems very hesitant to actually say anything about whatever it is that’s bothering them so much.
It's true that it is, on occasion, a little difficult to concentrate on what people are saying. His hearing has been a lot sharper recently, especially with the extensions of himself that he’s placed around the server to help spread the skulk. But unfortunately, given how widespread they are now, it has become quite difficult to concentrate on any specific sounds – even, on occasion, those being made right in front of him.
Still, even without any specifics, he’s been starting to get the feeling that he isn’t exactly… welcome, here.
He’d seen False, the other day, in Hermitopia. As far as he can tell, she’s appointed herself as protector of the hermits. He doesn’t think she’s consulted anyone else about this.
Not that he needs any protecting, obviously. Why would he? He can take care of himself.
But that… look that she’d given him. He’d almost turned around, at first, as though she might be looking at someone behind him.
There was no need for that, though. If there was someone behind him, he’d have heard them.
False, though. Back to False.
He’d never seen her look at him like that before. Not even in the worst moments of the Convex.
It was a calculating look. As though every moment, she was considering the best way to strike, and weighing it against the danger of overextending herself. The kind of look you might give an unnervingly powerful mob, perhaps. But one he'd never seen her give to Doc, or to Cleo. The kind of look you give to something other.
“Hey, False!” He called, and smiled.
Her eyes narrowed. “Hey Cub.” Her voice was controlled and level. “What’s up?”
“Oh not much, not much. Just the usual – spread the souls, spread the skulk, you know how it is.” He held out a few skulk catalysts. “Care to join me?”
“I… No. No, I’ve got- other plans, sorry.” She took a step back, but kept her eyes fixed on him. “Why don’t you… go do that, then.”
He shrugged. “Sure. Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I won’t.” It was harsh. Sharp. After a moment, she seemed to realise this. “I mean- fine. I’ll let you know.” It was less a peace offering to a friend than it was a deliberate concession to an enemy. He knows how to tell the difference.
“Good, good. That’s good to know.” Just because she’d decided she didn’t like him anymore for some reason, didn’t mean he had to follow suit.
She watched him from a distance, eyes like ice, until he left.
She watched him like a tightly wound spring, like a coiled snake.
But she did not strike.
So, yeah. That has been a little odd.
He thinks that if it weren’t for his newfound lease on life recently, that incident would have rattled him. So it’s a good job he doesn’t have to worry about that.
It still seemed worth investigating, though, if it made people less willing to embrace the skulk as they should.
So then, there was the incident with Xisuma.
This one, he thinks, was the most confusing of the lot.
There were some more looks – some from Jevin, Oli and Sausage as well – when they fought the withers together.
He was fairly confident that Xisuma wasn’t the biggest fan of the skulk. At least – he had been fairly confident.
But it wasn’t Cub who suggested trying to spread the skulk further in the End with a sweeping edge sword and some endermen.
And even after that, he’s pretty sure Xisuma’s been removing a fair amount of the skulk around Hermitopia.
There had been Impulse, too, unnerved and wary, asking Cub to dispose of parts of himself safely, rather than taking them and doing it himself.
And with all this came a growing… not discomfort. Why would he be uncomfortable? More a curiosity. How, after all, was he supposed to change their minds if he didn’t know their minds?
Joe- Joe was his friend, he had thought. Joe would get it.
And then he did.
It felt a little like missing a step, although to be fair that wasn’t necessarily uncommon in interactions with Joe.
He hinted, and Joe nodded and went along with it and was appropriately impressed.
Later, he was sold back the parts of himself that Joe had unearthed, both of them quite clear about where they had come from, and told that he could do whatever he liked with them as long as they didn’t end up back in Pix’s area.
He shouldn’t be surprised, really. Joe did tend to enjoy seeing where the chaos went. Why would he even want to intervene?
But then there are still sometimes those looks. When Cub is adding more skulk catalysts around Hermitopia, and Joe is quickly ducking in and out of the place because it’s not one hundred percent clear whether he's still an enemy of the state at this point or not.
When they’re doing that.
Sometimes Joe looks at him like he wouldn’t mind it if none of the Hermits told Cub when they left.
Sometimes, when he forgets himself a little, Cub wonders whether any of them would, anymore.
It seems like a double standard. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, he’s sure. He hasn’t found it yet, though.
Why, if he didn’t have the skulk to keep him company, he might even be feeling a little hurt lonely irritated.
It takes Xisuma replacing the entire floor of the tower for him to start to understand.
They say they hate it. Oh they say they hate it. Not out loud to him, most of the time, but they do. But they never get the roots.
They clear it away, and they leave the surface clean and new, or they leave it unrecognizably maimed by the scars they made themselves. Some of them even dig up the catalysts. But none of them get the roots, because Cub is still here, and so it will always come back.
None of them have even tried.
So that can’t hate it that much, can they?
They just don’t want it near them.
Well, he thinks.
Too bad.
He’s not very good at giving up.
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autisticlancemcclain · 2 days ago
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art by the insanely talented eleora ( @awhoreintheory ). photo id in alt text.
Keith barely sees him for even half a second before he’s striding forward and pulling Lance flush against him, burying his head into the crook of Lance’s head. His arms are tight around his shoulders, and his fluffy hair — not technically a mullet anymore but Lance will call it a mullet until he dies — tickling Lance’s ears.
Lance chuckles, standing on his tiptoes to press himself closer and patting Keith’s back gently. (Thank god for pointe ballet skills, because something tells him he’ll be holding this pose for a while. ‘Something’ being Keith’s shuddering exhale against his skin and the frazzled nerves he can feel pouring from his boyfriend in waves.)
“Hard day, cielo?”
“Mmf,” Keith says instead. He shudders again, then presses a kiss to the skin on Lance’s neck before saying: “You are my comfort.”
And that — that’s something. That’s…wow.
“I am?”
Keith makes a humming noise. The rapid fire of his heart that Lance can feel even through their big sweaters — Castle’s heating has been iffy lately, so he’s loathe to leave his room in anything except for three layers at minimum — starts to slow as Keith calms down.
“Yeah. I just — you. I was overwhelmed and irritable and everything sucks but as soon as I touched you and smelled you and was near you it all went away. I didn’t know a person could do that, but you do.”
Lance blinks away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, clenching the fabric of Keith’s worn red hoodie in his fists. He squeezes his boyfriend even closer, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“You’re my comfort, too.”
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headspace-hotel · 12 hours ago
looking at my "to do list" for my WIP revisions and had to just...post this without context
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[image description: A photo of a handwritten list, cropped so that only one item is visible. It reads, "Add the goat pyramid." /End description.]
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nailbatbabygirl · 2 days ago
the third and final part of this little series! I hope y'all like this ending :)
(part 1) (part 2)
Eddie is already up when Steve wakes up the next morning.
Steve wakes to find his arm empty and opens his eyes to see Eddie’s side of the bed is vacant. Steve reaches a hand out to feel the sheet and it’s still warm. Eddie hasn’t been up for long then.
Steve turns to glance at the alarm clock behind him and sees that it’s just after seven. Steve knows that he has a shift at the video store at nine. He’s willing to be late for it if it means that he finally gets to have this talk with Eddie.
God, they’re finally going to talk about it. They’re going to talk about the break-up and Steve is finally going to get some answers to why he was so suddenly and unceremoniously dumped. Maybe he’ll finally get some closure.
Steve takes a deep bracing breath before sitting up and pulling himself out of bed. He rubs his eyes to get the sleep out of them and grabs his glasses from the other side of the bed and puts them on on his way out of the room.
As he shuffles down the small hallway to the kitchen Steve hears two quiet voices mumbling to each other. Wayne must be home from his shift, if the voices and smell of coffee brewing are anything to go off of.
Steve steps into the small kitchen area and sees that he was right, Wayne is standing by the counter with his brow furrowed at Eddie who is leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed. He looks better now than he did last night, but Steve cans till see deep bags under his eyes that indicate that Eddie hasn’t been sleeping well lately, if he’s even been sleeping at all.
“Hey, kid,” Wayne greets Steve when he sees him approach. Eddie doesn’t turn to look at him and Steve tries not to let it eat at him. “Surprised to see you here. Not unhappy ‘bout it, but surprised.” Wayne finishes and gives Eddie a pointed look which he even more pointedly ignores.
Steve nods, not really wanting to get involved in whatever silent argument is going on between Wayne and Eddie. “Nightmares.”
He hopes that will be enough of an explanation for Wayne and is relieved when Wayne just nods back at him.
“Well, I’m off to bed,” Wayne tells them both, stepping towards the hall and clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder as he passes him. “It’s good to see you back here, Steve.”
Steve just gives him a small smile which Wayne returns before exiting the kitchen.
Steve goes to the counter and stands across from Eddie, leaning back onto the wood as he watches him. The silence in the kitchen stretches between them as they both wait for Wayne’s bedroom door to close before breaking it.
When the door shuts softly Eddie looks at Steve. Steve doesn’t like the look on his face as he starts to speak.
“I’m sorry I called you last night,” Eddie says. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I’m not sorry,” Steve insists. “I’m glad you did. How long have you been dealing with this alone?”
Eddie’s lack of response is enough of an answer.
“Eds,” Steve doesn’t step forward to hold Eddie, but he wants to. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“You know why,” Eddie mumbles, clearly trying to keep his voice down so that Wayne won’t overhear them.
“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “I do. Are we gonna talk about that now?”
“What’s there to talk about?” Eddie shrugs like it couldn’t matter less to him and it gives Steve whiplash. Where is this coming from? Eddie had been practically begging Steve to let him talk about it last night, and now he’s back to acting like he doesn’t care? What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” Steve asks, still keeping his voice down despite the loud thoughts swirling in his head. “You’re the one who was begging me to let you explain everything last night. What is this?”
“I changed my mind,” Eddie says, his face carefully neutral in way that makes Steve’s stomach churn. “I’m sorry you came out here for nothing.”
“Not for nothing,” Steve corrects him quickly. “I came out here last night to take care of you and I don’t regret any part of that. I just thought that we were also going to finally talk about it, I thought that you wanted to talk about it.”
“Well, I don’t,” The coffee machine beeps to indicate that it’s finished brewing, but they both ignore it. “I don’t wanna talk about it. I have nothing to say about it.”
“Can you just… Can you at least tell me why?” Steve feels like he’s begging and he doesn’t understand where the desire to talk about this that Eddie had last night has gone now. “Can you at least tell me what I did wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Steve,” Eddie sounds apologetic but that’s not enough for Steve. He wants answers, he’s waited too long to have this conversation to walk away without them now.
“Then what was it, Eddie?” Steve pleads. “What went wrong? Why did you break up with me?”
“We never would have lasted,” Eddie says and Steve can tell that it sounds as lame to Eddie’s ears as it does to Steve’s.
“And why the fuck is that, exactly?” Steve is trying so hard not to be mean, but he’s slipping. He hates having to fight tooth and nail to drag a straight answer out of Eddie.
“You want kids, Steve, a family! And I…” Eddie swallows heavily and looks away from Steve, looking down at the socks on his feet. “I can’t give you that.”
And that finally gives Steve pause. Because, fuck.
Steve knows that he should have seen this coming. He had seen this coming, had noticed that whenever they talked about a future together and Steve mentioned kids, starting a family together, Eddie would go quiet. Not fully withdrawn, but enough so that Steve should have realized that Eddie wasn’t on the same page as him. Should have said something about it.
“You can’t or you don’t want to?” Steve asks quietly, not letting himself get upset yet. “Because there are plenty of ways for gay couples to have kids, Eddie. Do you not want kids with me?”
Eddie looks like he’s blinking away tears. “I’m sorry, Steve. I’m so sorry,” he starts and Steve closes his eyes because he can’t look at Eddie right now.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that four months ago?” Steve still hasn’t opened his eyes. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about it?”
“What was there to talk about, Steve?” Eddie sounds almost angry and Steve’s eyes open to take in the frustrated look on his face. “We want different things!”
“‘What was there to talk about?’” Steve echoes incredulously. “Eddie, when you’re in a relationship you talk to each other. That’s what you do. If you want different things then you talk to each other about it! Find a compromise! Together!” Steve knows his voice is rising in volume, but the chances of them keeping this conversation private from Wayne are already completely gone at this point anyway.
“There is no compromise here, Steve!” Eddie’s speaking louder now too. “You want a big family with a million kids and I don’t want to be a dad! There’s no getting around that!”
Steve wants to argue, but he can’t. He really can’t. Because Eddie is right.
There are very few things that Steve is certain he wants, is certain he loves. There are very few, but kids are at the top of his list.
Steve wants a family, has always wanted a family. A big one, preferably. When his kindergarten teacher had asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up Steve always said that he wanted to be a dad, and that hasn’t changed. He can’t envision a long term future without having kids.
And Eddie didn’t want any.
“Why didn’t you say anything, Eddie?” Steve keeps coming back to that, to the fact that Eddie has never expressed his feelings about this with Steve. “You just broke up with me and wouldn’t tell me why. You ignored me for months, Eddie. You made this huge decision for me, for both of us, without telling me anything!”
“What other option was there, Steve?” They’re both shouting now and Steve can’t even spare a thought for being overheard at this point. “Stay together for however many more years and then have to split when you started talking about adoption? Would you rather have wasted years of your life with someone you weren’t going to spend the rest of your life with?”
“It wouldn’t be a waste, Eddie,” Steve grits out and he is fucking pissed. He’s pissed and he’s hurt and fuck, he’s crying now. “How fucking dare you say that? How dare you suggest that loving you could ever be a waste of my time? It wouldn’t be a waste, Eddie. Not to me.”
“How can you even say that?” Eddie throws his hands up in exasperation. “Do you realize how you sound right now? You could be out there finding someone who can give you the family you want, who wants to give you that, but instead you’re here arguing that loving me isn’t a waste of time, when we both know that it absolutely fucking is!”
There it is then.
Steve is quiet for a moment while it sinks in. Whether Eddie wants a family or not isn’t the heart of this issue at all, apparently. They could figure something out together if they really wanted to, could figure out a way to make their plans for the future work. No, the problem here is that Eddie doesn’t think he deserves a future with Steve.
“Eddie,” Steve isn’t shouting anymore. He’s staring at Eddie’s face, but Eddie has turned away again, pointedly looking anywhere but at Steve like he knows he’s been caught. “Eddie is that what this is really all about? You don’t think you deserve to be loved?”
“No, I really shouldn’t be a parent, Steve,” Eddie says. “I meant that.”
“But that’s not the only reason, is it?” Steve pushes, making a mental note to loop back around to that statement later (“shouldn’t”?).
Eddie’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Steve sees the silent tears running down his face as he doesn’t answer.
“Eddie,” Steve starts to take a step towards him, but Eddie puts a hand up to stop him and Steve freezes in place.
“Steve, please don’t do this,” Eddie pleads quietly, squeezing his eyes closed and several more tears fall down his cheeks. “Why can’t you just let this be a clean break?”
“It was never a clean break,” Steve answers. “You broke my fucking heart. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone and you decided that that was a mistake. You decided that for me and you broke my heart, and you think you can call that a clean break? That’s not a clean break, that’s being cruel.”
“It’s not cruel for me to want you to have a happy life,” Eddie protests but he still won’t look at Steve. “It’s not cruel to want to spare myself the heartbreak of you realizing a few years down the line that I’m not fucking worth it! I can’t go through that, Steve. I wouldn’t survive that.”
“Stop making so many fucking assumptions,” Steve just wants Eddie to look at him. “Why do you think that? That I would just stop loving you? I wish you would just talk to me about these things, Eds. Even if we have different plans for the future now, who’s to say that that can’t change? I love you enough to try to make things work with you, even if they don’t work out in the end. I love you enough to try, Eddie, and to keep trying. But you just assume that I’m going to get tired of you and leave you and instead of talking to me about it you just cut me out of your life completely.”
Eddie isn’t saying anything and he isn’t looking at Steve. Steve leans back on the counter and brings his hands up to cover his face. He can feel the frustrated tears welling in his eyes again. The silence stands between them like a physical wall and Steve’s not sure what he’s supposed to do now, not sure what else there is to do if Eddie won’t talk to him anymore, won’t even fucking look at him. He wants more thna anything to wrap his arms around Eddie and hold him close, but he knows he can’t do that. He sniffs and uses his hands to wipe away the tears that have escaped the corners of his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie breaks the silence, speaking barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for pushing you away. I just… Everyone leaves, Steve. Everyone. It was only a matter of time before you left too.”
“You don’t have to be alone, Eddie,” Steve says. “I can’t promise that we’ll last forever, but I promise you that I will never leave you alone. Even if we don’t manage to work it out, you will always have me. As a friend, as family, as whatever. You can’t get rid of me, Eddie, and I don’t want to leave. What do I need to do to make you believe me?”
Eddie is fully crying again and Steve gives in to the desire to hold him, closing the distance between them in two steps and scooping Eddie into his arms.
Eddie goes easily, his arms coming up to wrap around Steve as Steve holds him. They’re both crying now and neither of them seem to care about getting tears all over the other.
“I don’t know, Steve,” Eddie sobs quietly into the crook of Steve’s neck. “I don’t know.”
“Will you let me try?” Steve pleads, abandoning any reservations he might have still been holding. “Let me try to prove to you that I’m not leaving you without a fight?”
Eddie laughs wetly against him and Steve feels his heart fill with hope at the sound of it. It’s not a bitter laugh and it’s Steve’s favorite thing that he’s heard in the past four months.
“I think you’ve proven that you’re not going without a fight,” Eddie says. “But I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Steve, this problem isn’t going to go away just because we want it to.”
He pulls Eddie back in his arms so that he can look at him. “I know,” He says, because he does know, but he also knows that there’s more to it than Eddie is letting on, and he also knows that that’s something he’s willing to discuss and figure out together. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it.”
He kisses Eddie’s forehead, and moves back to look him the eyes again. “Promise me that we’ll figure it out together? Promise me that we’ll try?”
Eddie nods. “I promise to try.”
And Steve thinks that’s enough for now. Just enough to try again.
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greenishghostey · 10 hours ago
Peppermint Haze
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ content MDNI, bath sex, p in v, unprotected sex, handjob, hair pulling, fluffy smut, established relationship, Eddie getting to chill out, dirty talk, creampie, soapy boobs, winter themed porn, lots of grinding, this is really just mushy fluffy porn so yeh
Word Count: 3,361
Author’s Notes: Please pretend that bath sex is not a logistical nightmare and that bubble baths aren’t terrible for vaginal health. The cosy, comfy vibes were too good to pass up so here we are :)))
Hawkins always got indescribably cold by the middle of November. Snow would pile up on tree branches and sidewalks - becoming less of a Christmas card backdrop and more of a slushy inconvenience.  
That was definitely the case at Forest Hills Trailer Park. The dirt track roads were frozen solid and covered in a thick layer of powder and wintery mush. A lot of the park’s residents took turns digging out sections of the roads since everyone still had to get to work. Winter wouldn’t stop the likes of Wayne Munson from making it to his Friday night shift. 
Eddie and Wayne had been shovelling out Patty, their hippy elderly, neighbour’s grey hatchback when you showed up at their trailer. Friday night was date night, and the shitty weather meant it would be an evening in Eddie’s trailer. 
Both you and Eddie had planned an extremely relaxing night since the week had been hell for you both. Eddie had been working late at the craft store because the holiday rush was beginning - he‘d kept you updated on his projects that mainly consisted of measuring fabric and lifting all of the heavy boxes. You had been dealing with an influx of school kids at the library - rushing to get books for their last-minute assignments and begging you for help finding specific titles. So, a little indulgent date was much needed for the pair of you. 
Gloria, one of your coworkers, had gifted you with a small Christmas “spa” hamper as a thank you for all your hard work. It consisted of peppermint bath oil, vanilla body wash that doubled as bubble bath, and a cocoa butter lotion. It was all super nice stuff which made you feel a little bad for only having Christmas cards to give to your colleagues. However, the festive kit led to you and Eddie agreeing on your main date night activity. 
A really really long bath. He was the one to suggest the idea after you gushed over the gift - the suggestion was mostly innocent, surprisingly. Honestly, you both just wanted to be all cosy and gross in the privacy of his home. 
That’s how you found yourself submerged in an amazing soapy bath that smelled like heaven. Only your face was poking out from the bubbles as you breathed deeply - floating and listening to the muffled sounds of Eddie rummaging around his room for tapes. He said he’d made a tape, especially for the evening, making you melt even further into the minty bliss. Your sinuses were going to be so clear after this. 
Eddie barged into the steamy bathroom in his usual loud, sort of clumsy way. The tile floor was more slippery than he’d anticipated so he had nearly crashed into the room. You poked your head up and gave him a little wave from the bubbles - hair soaked and a touch of foamy stubble on your jaw. 
Once your sleepy eyes focused on him properly, you saw that he was butt naked while fiddling with his stereo on the counter. 
You leaned on your forearms on the edge of the bath. “I don’t tell you enough how nice your butt is.” You sighed, smiling up at him when he glanced at you.
“I’d say it’s a little better than “nice”, at least “premium goods” status.” Eddie huffed jokingly, now slapping his stereo in an attempt to get the tape deck to stay closed. He was a firm believer in if you smacked technology around a little and showed it who’s boss then it would work. “Babe, you’re objectifying me while I’m trying to set a romantic mood, all for you.” He shot you an exaggerated pinch glare over his shoulder. 
In reality, he really liked when you ogled him and made him feel hot. “This is a small bathroom and your ass is right at my eye level. Get over it, dude.” You smirked, sinking back into the warm water. 
“-I bet you say that to all the boys,” purred the voice from the stereo. Damn, Eddie knew how to set a weird, but really good mood. Meat Loaf wasn’t exactly his usual music choice, but he knew you loved a good ballad. 
“Hey hey! See? A few loving taps and viola, she sings.” Eddie grinned, turning to you with a flourish of his arms, “kinda like you.” He sniggered as you splashed some water at him. 
“Hurry up and get “the goods” in the water. I’ll give you a head massage.” You sighed, letting your body sink back into the water. 
Eddie laughed again, softly, and dipped his foot in the water - testing the temperature so it wouldn’t burn his balls. He slowly sank down, the warm water being a stark contrast to the chilly trailer outside the bathroom. 
“By all means, take your time there.” You chirped, forming a bubble beard while you watched him. Eddie was so pretty in the steamy, honey light. A small sheen of sweat painted his chest, and he couldn’t hold back a giggle when he saw your foamy facial hair. 
“Once I’m balls deep, I’ll be all good. Don’t rush me.”
You snorted, “not the first time I’ve heard that.” 
“Give me like… ten minutes and you might be so lucky, sweetheart.” Eddie winked, finally sitting down fully in the bath with a deep, satisfied groan. The sound shooting down your spine and fuelling the budding ache between your thighs. “I’m a fucking genius for this idea. God.” Another groan faded into a purr. 
“You’ve really outdone yourself. Using my work present for your benefit. What a gentleman.” You sniggered, hiding behind the suds when he lightly kicked your leg. 
“Let me soak in peace, woman.” He grumbled, trying to hide his sleepy smile and failing. 
You watched Eddie quietly and full of adoration. His eyes were closed and his face had relaxed significantly, any harsh lines or fatigue melted away with the steam from the bath. Eddie allowed himself to slide fully into the water, soaking his wild curls and pushing his bangs out of his face. He started working his calloused fingertips into his scalp. You watched, unblinking, as his large brown eyes rolled back into his skull and he sighed. 
Eddie had said he needed ten minutes but you weren’t going to be able to wait that long. 
You wiped away your soap beard. As much as Eddie adored you being a goof with him, you knew when it was time to get serious. Both of you knew where the night was heading, so you may as well speed things up a little. The cosy air and the melodic cries of Meat Loaf were perfect. 
“Eds? C’mere. Said I’d give you a head massage, and I’m a lady of my word.” You stated, giggling as he quickly started to twist himself around, making the porcelain squeak. 
Eddie situated himself between your legs and rested his wet hair on your chest. The bastard even started twiddling his thumbs while he waited for you to start, “I’m ready when you are.” He shot you a bright, toothy smile, swaying a little to really drive home his oh-so-innocent intentions. Eddie was always such a tease. 
You gathered some of the vanilla and peppermint-scented foam and started lightly massaging Eddie’s scalp. Your blunt fingernails slightly scratched him as an added luxury, but mostly because you wanted to make him feel extra special. Eddie’s hair was such an integral part of him. Not only was it for his own self-expression, but he fucking loved when you played with it and pulled it just enough that a shot of pain coursed through him. 
“That good?” You whispered, one of your hands wandering down his chest to caress his spider and demon head tattoos. The spider was your favourite. One time when he had picked up from a party after getting too drunk, you’d named it Edith, and kissed her goodnight. Eddie had damn near melted under you when you did that. You were just too sweet to him sometimes. 
“I’d even go as far to say it’s nice.” Eddie breathed. The feeling of you rubbing his hair and scalp was the greatest high he could ever experience. 
“Oh my god,” you groaned, pretending to be annoyed. “Change your tune and I’ll keep this hand going lower?” You breathed into his ear, your wandering hand now grazing the wispy dark hair on his belly. 
“See, I don’t think you’re gonna stop either way.” Eddie groaned. He started nuzzling his head against your tits, leaving a few small pecks between them. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while later.” He sang. 
“Aw, aren’t you just my best guy.” 
“Would hope that I’m your only guy - oh f-fuck.”
You finally traced your hand down Eddie’s thick cock. He twitched under your touch, your pruned fingertips dancing along the prominent veins on the underside of his shaft. Eddie’s pleased whining and soft panting showed you that he wanted you to wrap a hand around him and drive him crazy. But your goal was lower. 
Your warm hand caressed and massaged his balls as he let out a surprised moan. “God. Harder.” 
The pressure of your hand increased as you rolled his heavy sack in your hand. “You’ve been saving these for me, haven’t you?” you purred, Eddie having shifted to starting mouthing at your hard nipples. “Neglecting your balls when you're jerking off because they’re all for me, yeah?” 
“They need a woman’s touch, what can I say - shit, yeah, don’t stop.” Eddie groaned, almost shouting. Your hand that had been massaging his scalp was now slowly pumping at his cock. All teasing, soft touches - you knew it wasn’t enough for him. Eddie liked to be handled with an intimate roughness that only you could give him. 
Eddie’s large hands were moving everywhere. Massaging your legs, squeezing your arms and running up your neck blindly. The distinct warmth and softness of your body were addictive to him. You were the first person to let him touch you everywhere - no grimacing, no catch. Just encouragement and admiration. Said admiration came in the form of a low moan when Eddie’s fingers caught on a piece of your hair and tugged. 
“Babe, babe. We gotta stop or I’ll blow my load too fast.” Eddie huffed, pushing himself up and back to his original position across from you. He held out his arms wide, gesturing excitedly for you to come to him. 
You really loved how excited he still got when it came to you. In any scenario, he was always happy that it was you. 
Eddie grabbed your ass as you straddled him. Reaching up to bring you into a hungry, wet kiss. His mouth was restless. Lightly chapped lips pressed to yours, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, tongue massaging yours just enough to drive you crazy - he always drove you crazy. 
The flushed, hard head of Eddie’s cock rubbed against your clit as your hips wiggled in his lap. “Fu-fuck yes.” Eddie groaned, pulling you down on him more. Your warm-up was one of his favourite parts. “You want your cock? You gotta wait, sweetheart. I’ve barely gotten my hands on you yet.”
You whimpered, hips still grinding with more impatience. “But you're all wet and warm.” 
“And now I’ve got to get you like that,” Eddie chuckled with a smirk. “Do me a favour. Get some of the bubbles and play with your pretty tits for me?” 
“You just wanna see soapy boobs.” You quipped, already gathering large handfuls of foam in your palms. The mint and vanilla scent had weakened, but it was still comforting. 
“I do. Now, get to it.” 
Eddie had moved one of his rough hands down to your aching cunt. Pinching your clit between two fingers, and rubbing it with his thumb. 
God, yes. You could feel yourself becoming slick under Eddie’s touch. Your clit slipped under his calloused thumb as your wet hard nipples rolled between your fingers. Both of you released any and all noises that felt right. The needy moans and heavy pants harmonised with the lapping of the bath water. Eddie loved watching you play with your tits for him, applying just the right amount of grip to the soft mounds to make you whimper and hiss. 
Such pretty, sensitive tits were a heaven he wasn’t sure he deserved, so he was going to make sure they were looked after. 
“Someone’s having fun,” Eddie chirped, picking up the pace of his massage to your clit. God, he was evil. How were you going to hold a conversation under this level of pleasure? 
“Woman’s touch, right?” You moaned and ground harder onto his hand, catching the hot tip of his cock at the entrance of your weepy cunt. Eddie whimpered and his smirk melted into a delirious smile. 
The grinding, the moaning and the messy kissing continued for some time. Both of you basked in the intimate little world you had created in the steamy, trailer bathroom. There was nothing but time for relaxation and ecstasy - the night was still young and outside was just so cold, it was too horrible to think about. 
Eddie had started to angle his hips and yours so that the head of his swollen cock prodded your hole. When your movements synced up perfectly, his tip slipped into you - providing a delicious tease. 
Large hands were now groping and spreading your ass cheeks. The occasional short, sharp slap joined in. “Can I fuck you? Please. I know we got time, but I need it.” Eddie panted, his eyes laser-focused on your soapy tits that were in his eye line. “Promise you won’t be walking for the rest of the night. Fuck, rest of the weekend if you let me.” 
Now that was a tempting offer. “If you get to be inside my pussy now, then you won’t be leaving any time soon.” You smirked, playing with his soaking hair and twirling it around your fingers. 
Eddie didn’t respond to you. He lifted your hips up, thumbs massaging your love handles and slammed you back down onto his cock. Your gasp fizzled into mewling as Eddie started moving to grind into your sweet spot. He really wasted no time when it came to making you feel incredible.
“Aw, there she is.” He teased, one hand running up your back to tangle in your hair. “You were getting a little mouthy there. But I’m gonna help you turn that brain off, isn’t that right?” 
“Mhmm, please.” The sensations coursing through your sweating body were exactly what you needed. Big hands tugging lightly on your wet hair, Eddie’s fat cock fucking into your g-spot and his growling breath tickling your chest. You needed to stop thinking for at least a little while. You needed Eddie. 
Eddie needed you - maybe even a bit more than air at that moment. The embrace of your hot, spongey walls always had him reeling. You allowed him to see you in a vulnerable light, and he did the same. It was like a small weight off his shoulders that he hadn’t fully noticed was there. 
“This pussy - my pussy. F-fucking god. Lean back for me, I wanna see you, pretty girl.” Eddie had started to work you on his cock, thrusting slowly and so deep into your cunt. 
You gripped the rim of the bathtub and leaned back, an amazing tension forming in your thighs. “Want - sh-shit - more, Eds.” 
“Fuck yeah, I’ll give you everything, baby.” A thumb started flicking your puffy clit again and Eddie grinned up at you. “Uh-huh? Taking such a big cock so well, like a good girl.” Christ, he was almost too good at speaking absolute filth. 
“Can - can you cum in me? Please. Please, oh my fucking god.” 
The entire image of you on top of him set his blood on fire. Tousled, wet hair. Soap-dripping tits. Heavy-lidded eyes trained on where he was fucking you down onto his cock. You sparked something almost animalistic in him, and now you wanted him to empty his balls inside your cunt. 
Huff. Huff. Groan. Eddie couldn’t find the words to respond to you. So, he fucked you harder, causing desperate pleasure to pulse through both of you. He tugged your head back and began sucking along the column of your throat. 
“Gonna fill up my gorgeous girl. God, your pussy’s gonna be so fucking messy.” Eddie was essentially delirious by that point. The only thoughts in his head were fucking you, cumming in you and suggesting that bath sex became a regular thing. The vanilla-scented stuff had you smelling like some fancy dessert, the poor guy was losing his mind. 
You wanted to be messy. Eddie was pounding into you so well that your mind was calm and blank. The bathroom could be swimming with sudsy water and you wouldn’t even know. 
“Oh fuck, fuck,” you squealed. “Want to be full all night. Need it, Eddie. You need it too. Uh-huh?” 
“That’s right, babe. Always so smart for me.” His voice sounded far away, but in the best way possible. Eddie had a single goal in his sight and the tightness in his balls felt so fucking amazing. 
The way you begged always short-circuited Eddie’s brain. You were so lovely, so amazing. Hearing you say his name in your hoarse, needy tone made his cock twitch violently. 
Your cunt clung to his thick cock, trying to milk him dry and chase your own orgasm. Your release washed over you in a pulse of heat and electricity - momentarily making your body go limp from the euphoria. It didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop until Eddie did. His cock was splitting you open roughly as he used your sopping hole to cum inside. 
“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groaned, his jaw hanging slack. “Can you say my name, babe? Tell me who’s gonna fill you up.” 
“Eddie - you, Eds.” A fucked out whimper is all you could manage. But it worked just as well, if not better. 
Eddie came deep inside your slick cunt with a deep scream and a slurred string of curse words. Panting and water lapping were suddenly the only sounds in the green-tiled room. It was a sticky but not unpleasant atmosphere. You loved it. 
You had collapsed onto Eddie’s chest as he ran a weak hand through your hair. “I feel all tingly.” You sighed. 
“Like good or bad? Swear my jizz isn’t radioactive or anything.” Eddie snorted, his voice sounding sleepy. Christ, he was almost too warm, but like hell was he moving from his current position. 
“I meant good tingly, like romantic tingly. Way to ruin the post-sex mood.” You huffed, flicking one of his nipples until he let out a little shriek. 
“Okay, okay, easy there.” Eddie splashed some water up into your face. He was lucky he was so cute. “That was an incredibly romantic start to the night, in my humble opinion.” 
You hummed in agreement as you lifted yourself off of Eddie’s softened cock, settling back to straddling his thighs. Bath or not, you were getting your post-sex cuddles. 
“Want to be full all night. Need it, Eddie.” Eddie whined, mimicking your high-pitched moans as best he could. As much as you hated when he teased you like that, the impression was actually pretty solid. “That’s what you said. That’s love right there.” 
“And I was being entirely honest.” You replied. “Bear my horny little soul to you and look where it gets me? Bullied.” The next few seconds moved by quickly. One second, Eddie was fixing you with an eye roll, and the next he was pouring foamy water over your head. “Dick!” 
“Don’t worry, I’ll blow dry your hair before round 2.” Eddie grinned, moving close to you and pressing a kiss to your now dripping face. 
“I want some of that conditioner stuff you use in your hair too.” Demands would have to be made as a form of repayment after your boyfriend tried to waterboard you. “The one that smells like coconuts.” 
“I’ll braid your hair too, how does that sound?” 
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swiftiediaz · 2 days ago
i've never had thanksgiving in my life bc it's just not a thing here where i live but i was thinking about buddie (as usual) and this came to mind.
they're having thanksgiving together, the whole team and their families. the family they chose.
buck finds eddie in the kitchen, eyes on the oven as the turkey cooks— because eddie insisted. he's been getting vetter and better at cooking, with help of linda and her recipes, so eddie insists this year he can be in charge of the turkey. bobby kept stealing concerned glances at the kitchen, though, so buck decides he'd check on his boyfriend.
he's giddy at the thought. eddie's his boyfriend. this is their first thanksgiving as a couple and buck keeps feeling like it's a dream and that at any second he'll wake up bc it's too good to be true.
anyway, he finds eddie in the kitchen, eyes on the oven as the turkey cooks and the muffled sound of their family's laughter fills the place with warmth and love.
buck grins as he steps behind eddie and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's waisr, kissing the side of his neck and brushing his neck against the space behind his ear before finally resting his chin on eddie's shoulder.
"hey i missed you."
"i've been gone five minutes, buck." eddie rolls gis eyes with fons exasperation, a reluctant soft smile tugging at his lips.
"mm, still." buck shrugs and kisses eddie's cheek. "you wanna know wgat i'm thankful for this year?"
"i don't know, that karen brought her famous apple pie that you love so much." eddie plays dumb as ye turns his face slightly to the side.
buck chuckles and shakes his head, sneaking a kiss against the corners of eddie's lips before answering. "close, but no." he sighs and it makes eddie's skin tingle at the feeling of warmth breath against it making him smile even more.
"i'm thankful for you, and that you were brave enough to make the first move." buck says softly. "i don't know if i would've been brave enough to do it myself. and i'm thankful tgat now i get to tell you how much i love you everyday."
eddie turns around in buck's embrace and looks up at him, so tender and soft and it makes buck's heart flutter just like the first time eddie looked at him that way— after the tsunami, when eddie let him know how much he trusts buck, when he gave buck his heart without fear and hesitation.
"i was honestly terrified." eddie chuchles, his fingertips ghosting down buck's cheeks and ending up resting on the side of his neck, a grounding weight. "but you deserve to hear it, so i said it. i'm thankful that you feel the same, that we're truly a family now."
and then they're kissing, so soft and melting into each other. sweet and slow and perfect. buck winds his arm around eddie and turns them around so he's pressing his boyfriend against the kitchen counter, his tongue slipping into eddie's mouth like he's done it a million times before but tgat it still feels as special as the first time.
and maybe the turkey ends up being the tiniest bit burnt and they have to endure everyone's endless teasing but as he looks at the love of his life, smiling back at him— yeah, buck thinks it was totally worth it.
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pinkanonwrites · 2 days ago
Bath Time
I know I have a lot of requests waiting, but sometimes you’ve just gotta write what you’re feeling in your heart. And bathtime Azul smut is what I’ve been feeling the past couple of days, so I hope you all enjoy!
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AFAB!Reader, sharing a bath, feeding & alcohol (minor mentions), handjobs, soft dom reader, sub Azul
NSFW Below the cut!
"So, how was the event?"
Azul hadn't realized he'd begun to fall asleep in the bath until your voice jolted him back to the land of the waking, the soft click of the latch signaling your entrance from behind the drawn shower curtain. Certainly he hadn't intended to doze off, far from it. But the Lounge had been firing on all cylinders for weeks, making absolutely certain all staff were prepared to host the incredibly reputable (and profitable) wedding that took place that afternoon. 
And though it felt like a thousand different things were going wrong behind the scenes, leaving Azul feeling quite a bit like he were about to tear in two, the happy couple were delighted by the final product. The wedding party was even so kind as to not endlessly linger around the bar as the evening rolled in, leaving enough time for Azul to close up, double-check the ledger, and make it home to slip into a hot bath just before the clock struck 11PM.
“For lack of a better word? Eventful.”
You chuckled at his response, and Azul could hear you quietly clinking something around from behind the curtain. You hadn’t been able to join him at the Lounge, plans of your own keeping you tied up until the early evening. He had assured you needn’t wait up for him, as he couldn’t possibly know what time he would actually get home. He also should have known you would not heed this advice. There was more shuffling from beyond the curtain, rustling and the sounds of fabric hitting the tile floor. Before he could think to ask you what scheme you were up to this time, the curtain drew open with a soft swish. 
He found his gaze level with your knees, sweeping upwards across the plush expanse of your thigh and settling, with a hot streak of embarrassment, at the thatch of thick, dark hair coiled between your legs. Azul found himself overset by a pang of desire at the image, strong enough to cut through the exhaustion and serving only to further that feeling of embarrassment. Gaze sweeping higher over your soft stomach, bare breasts with nipples pebbled from the cool air, the sloped expanse of your neck to settle on the pleased and oh-so-slightly coy expression on your face. In one hand you were balancing a crystal bowl of sliced strawberries. In the other, two bubbling flutes of champagne. Whatever words were about to leave his mouth, he quickly lost when faced with your image. You simply chuckled again at his dazed expression, motioning with your head for him to move over.
“Scoot up, unless you don’t feel like sharing a bath tonight?”
“...Ah? A-Ah! Of course, love. Thank you.”
You stepped gently into the bubbly water, sinking to rest behind him. His back pressed to your soft chest, the both of you leaning against the sloped back of the clawfoot tub. Wordlessly you handed him a flute of champagne, waiting until he took a sip before offering him a slice of strawberry between two pinched fingers.
“Say ‘Aah.~’” You cooed, causing a hot flush of… of something to burn across his face. Something in between humiliation and arousal, if he had to guess.
“It’s almost as if you enjoy embarrassing me. I’m hardly incapable of eating a strawberry of my own accord, you know.”
“Oh, hush. Just let me spoil you.” You tutted, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear as a reward when he finally ate the strawberry from your waiting fingers. “Especially after you worked so hard today.” You had balanced the bowl precariously on the side of the tub, one hand holding your champagne while the other rubbed Azul’s bare shoulder, humming at the tension you found there. 
“It’s hardly, mmh… Hardly outside of my capabilities.” It was so easy for him to lose himself in the warmth of your exploring hand, sliding slowly down the length of his arm, then back up with the same languid pace. Eyes fluttering shut, he would sluggishly open his mouth each time he felt the press of a cool strawberry against his lips, the lingering sweetness on his tongue pairing with the bubble of the champagne.
“That’s my good boy.~ Let me take care of you for a change.” 
The clink of glass on porcelain must’ve meant you set down your champagne glass as well, and the thought was quickly confirmed by another wandering hand trailing up and down Azul’s slick skin. Both of your hands dipped in unison beneath the bubbly water to caress his thighs, thumbs rubbing along the inner crease where they met his hips and sending heat rushing to his head and his cock. Your teasing fingertips only served to stir further interest, his length quickly filling and rising to attention, eager for your direct touch.
“Well hello there.~” You murmured, clearly pleased. “And here I thought you were too tired.”
Azul could feel his cheeks burning. “You’re really quite the- aah!~” Whatever protestations he had in mind were quickly lost by the sensation of your hand closing around his cock, stroking him slow but firm as you pressed your lips the the slope of his neck. Languid but insistent, squeezing around the base with each stroke, coming all the way back up to caress his sensitive cockhead with playful fingertips before descending again. The sleepiness that had just begun to creep into the corners of his mind intermingled with the pleasure, leaving Azul feeling limp, floaty, and completely at the mercy of your touch. 
You smeared the flat of your other palm over his head as you continued to stroke, making his body jerk and shudder as his hips moved of their own accord to buck into your warm hands. He bit back a curse as you fisted him in both hands, stroking him like you were trying to wring every ounce of pleasure from his tired body. All the while you teased his sensitive neck with your mouth and tongue, nibbling softly on his earlobe, murmuring sweet placations that he could barely consciously make out but certainly served to make him even more eager, more desperate for release. He was too tired, too delirious with pleasure to even stifle his usual noises, gasping openly with whimpers and little ‘oh, oh, oh!’s as you stroked him off. Heat curled deep in the pit of his belly, head lolled back against your shoulder as he let himself thrust unabashedly into your tight hands.
“Oh, oh please love, please!~”
“I’m not gonna stop you, honey. You purred, one hand slinking further down to cup and massage his balls, swollen and as desperate for release as the rest of him. “Whenever you’re ready. Just come for me, Azul.”
“Yes, please, yes!”
Sparks behind his eyes, the immediate rush of levin coursing through his body, down to his fingertips and the tips of his toes. He felt like his whole body was drawn taut, one foot thumping weakly against the far edge of the tub as he couldn’t help but thrust and stutter through your relentless, stroking grip. He’d surely be embarrassed by whatever sounds were escaping his lips once he came to, but for now there was nothing but the sensations of your hands, your lips, your soft chest pressed to his back as he spilled, and spilled, and spilled.
Finally, when the pleasure had just begun to eke over to pain, your hands trailed off of his softening length. He whimpered as you pressed another kiss to his ear, a content hum leaving you and rattling through his whole body. He felt fuzzy, distant, content. Like he’d been good for you. After what could have easily been minutes or eternity, he was able to croak out a mostly-coherent sentence.
“It’s going to… It’s going to get in the water.”
You laughed again, airy and light. “That’s fine, we can wash off with the showerhead in a bit. Besides, you spilled the rest of your champagne in it anyway, so we’ll have to wash off if we don’t want to smell like it.”
“Ah. So I… So I did. My mistake.”
You just fished the lost glass from his hand and set it next to your own, wrapping your arms around his middle and sighing into the crook of his neck, content. “You can make it up to me another time. But let’s just get to bed, okay? I’m sleepy.”
As jelly-limbed and wrung-out as he was, Azul couldn’t help but agree with you. The only thing that could possibly feel better than this would be coiling up with you amidst your silken sheets and soft, piled blankets. To him, that was certainly something worth staying up just a little bit longer for.
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inneskeeper · 2 days ago
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iybms · 17 hours ago
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Lance is usually the first person to befriend new rollerbladers at the skatepark; it's a small community, and he's a friendly guy.
But not this time. This new guy looks the epitome of edgy and unapproachable, and he's stealing all of Shiro's attention.
rating: T pairing: keith/lance words: 12,291 tags: lance pov, aggressive rollerblading, strong language, minor violence, getting together, rivals to friends to lovers
read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037433
illustrations (and spoilers) under the cut.
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