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#she is a fluff
rockcat2112 · 2 months
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Behold, Mia and her stare of Voidseeking
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Maybe someone will help me find some blog that does fun stuff with cats or smthn, I don't know how to use this site well...
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raepliica · 2 months
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i think they should take turns cuddling for healing purposes
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demigods-posts · 1 month
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sometimes. i just have to remind myself that percy took annabeth to paris. like, canonically. he forgot their one-month anniversary. and took his girl to paris to make up for it. the standards are in elysium.
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pangur-and-grim · 5 months
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Pangur is snug in her winter coat!
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pseudowho · 1 month
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"Hey, Kento," you began, approaching him, thoughtful, while the shower warmed up in the background. Kento hummed in response, turning the page of his book.
"Darling?" Kento inquired.
"Have you ever noticed how...I don't know...convenient and...I dont know, I suppose how coincidental some details of your life are?" Kento caught your eye now, one thin eyebrow arched uncertainly.
"...what do you--"
"I mean," you interrupted, "your 7:3 thing. It's...it's everywhere. You part your hair in 7:3. Your inherent technique is 7:3. Your surname means 'seven-three'. I mean, jesus, your birthday is even--"
"--July the...3rd." Kento looked a little ill, closing his book and feeling his world close in around him. You headed to the shower, calling back; "Just a crazy random happenstance, I'm sure!"
You came out, some time later, to an abandoned book on the bed and Kento stood at the balcony, with an enormous whiskey in his hand and staring, haunted, into the distance.
"...Kento?"
Kento turned, face twisted with existential crisis; "I don't-- I've never-- ...am I an anime character or something?"
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augustinewrites · 8 months
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“pleeeease, shoko? as my best friend–”
“hold on,” shoko sputters, choking on her drink. “who said i was your best friend?”
“do you think i’d pay for lunch if you weren’t?”
the woman sets down her chopsticks, sending him an unimpressed look. “that’s what this is for? to bribe me into being your best friend so i can tell my actual best friend to go out with you?”
satoru leans forward in his seat, grinning from ear to ear. “i’m not asking you to tell anyone anything. i’m just saying, plant a few seeds here and there. maybe mention how devastated i was to get friend-zoned and that i’m way too hot to be strictly friendship material.”
“that’s way too unbelievable, coming from me. maybe you should ask nanami…”
“no, it has to be you. you think anyone would believe nanamin if he said i was a total smokeshow?” he asks, shaking his head.
“well, no one would believe him because it’s not true.”
“you’re being mean,” satoru pouts. “you’re supposed to be my best friend–”
“friendship isn’t how you’ll get me to do your bidding,” shoko interrupts. “i like whiskey.”
_____
“this is really good,” you hum in approval as you take another sip. it’s smooth, sweet, and strong. much better than any whiskey you and shoko have shared before. “how on earth did you afford this?”
“a friend bought a few bottles for me,” she waves off, settling herself into the opposite end of her couch. “so…how was your date on saturday? with that guy from the kyoto school?”
“it was okay. but i don’t think i’ll see him again,” you tell her honestly. “he just wasn’t…” 
“wasn’t gojo?” 
“what?” you ask. the idea that you didn’t enjoy your last date because he wasn’t gojo was downright ridiculous, but the quickened beat of your heart is trying to tell you otherwise. “why would you– you think i like gojo?” 
satoru gojo, whose second job seemed to be roping you into his nonsense back in your school days (and taking the fall when yaga eventually caught you). who showed off during missions and always yelled for you to watch (he has a small scar on his cheek from a failed infinity barrier projection). who now routinely showed up to your apartment uninvited to watch a film with you (and always left with a few rolls of your toilet paper).
“you don’t have to like him,” your best friend says, pulling you out of your thoughts. “you just have to sit on him.”
“ieiri!” you shout, horrified. “we’re friends. friends don’t sleep with friends.”
“what? i slept with him once - in a moment of complete weakness - and we’re still friends.”
“but now you no longer sleep with men,” you point out. 
she seems taken aback by that for a moment, but eventually shrugs it off. “true, but it’s different for you guys.”
“how?”
shoko fills the bottom of her glass with a heavy pour. “because he’s actually in love with you. he may be stupid and annoying, but maybe he does the things he does around you because he likes making you laugh, even if it’s at him.”
_____
satoru stumbles backwards into the wall, using his grip on your waist to pull you flush against him. you’d barged into his apartment, ignoring his questions and immediately pulling him in for a kiss.
“i thought–” he tries to get out between kisses. “–you didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
you draw back to look at him, smiling. “i have other friends.”
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livinghostly · 2 months
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a family forged in curses – satoru gojo x reader
a/n: sorry i haven't been writing work has been burning me out and i've been playing the sims in my free time to cope wc: 3.2k you and satoru get called to the office after an incident with megumi at school. fluff, mama bear reader, talks of child neglect ((no one is neglected)), tsumikiii and megumiii best siblings. think i went off too hard with the principal idk why i was pressed
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satoru gojo sat in one of the stiff chairs of the principal’s office. heavy glands of sweat formed on his temple and slipped down to the hem of his uniform shirt. he braced the clamminess of his hands against the curve of the leather armrest. the air was thick, and as his chest heaved he inhaled the tension that constricted his throat with a tight burn. the fear was unfamiliar, spurring on the unsettling agitation of his stomach.
megumi was seated behind him, seemingly just as terrified– his eyes blown wide in horror as he stared at the black and blue knuckles laid in his lap. there was a dried bloodstain on his thumb, taunting him. he covered it with his opposite hand. 
it was a nice day outside, the sun was shining and it wasn’t too hot or too cold. sunlight filled the room and reflected off of the finish of the principal’s wooden desk.
“these recent developments in megumi’s behavior, truly, are just detestable. i truly can’t say i’ve seen anything like it in the years i’ve worked at this school.”
satoru’s eyes flickered to you, seated closest to the door. your hands were neatly clasped together over your crossed legs, posture straight as if it’d be graded. there was an attempt to portray yourself with amiableness, but he caught the disgust in your eyes. he’d seen it before, when making contact with the blood of a curse, the times utahime tried to cook for faculty parties, when satoru himself shoved his overseas souvenirs in your face that were way too sweet to be considered edible. though, they paled in comparison to the rage you seeped now. your smile was relaxed, polite, but the rest of your face was pinched with frustration. the temptation of smoothing over the space between your eyebrows tugged at his fingertips, but was pushed to the side as he watched the air around you turn to steam. 
on the way in you passed the nurse’s office. with a glance you caught on to the fact that there were a handful of middle schoolers sporting the spoils of megumi’s martial arts training. they were older, bigger, with teary eyes and blubbering incoherently about the recent string events to the staff. among them, tucked in the corner, was a kid much smaller and seemed to meet a different fate. he hugged his knees to his chest and stared longingly at the wall. there were a few scratches on his forehead and a crack in the lens of his glasses.
“it’s my understanding that megumi doesn’t have many friends here, and i’m afraid further acts of delinquency will only disconnect him from his peers.” the principal inhaled deeply. “it’s safe to say he already is considered a disgrace of some sort. his own sister seems to avoid him in the halls.”
your chest bobbed with slow, calming breaths. despite that, your tone was harsh, “i don’t mean to interrupt, but from my understanding, megumi stepped in on another student who was forced to eat pavement in the courtyard.”
megumi visibly winced at your inflection, curling himself into his seat a bit more and tucking his hands under his thighs. in the back of his mind, he knew he’d do it again. but he would do anything to prevent you from showing up to his school like this. the first few times an incident like this happened, it had been gojo alone who was called (he was much closer, with you being sent off on missions. and the staff preferred to speak with another teacher– it would be sound logic if it wasn’t gojo).
gojo, who nodded absentmindedly to the concerns of the staff and took megumi out for ice cream after. ice cream for himself, really– megumi’s appetite was usually flushed out by his embarrassment as soon as they left the office. he would probe gently at megumi’s antics, and conclude their outing by promising to downplay when speaking to you later.
the principal was a stout man, before you sat down you caught the slight wind of his feet swinging back and forth behind his desk. there was a disconnect between where the part in his hair once was and where the shiny toupee settled on his head. every so often, he scratched it with uncertainty and tousled his ‘hair’ into sticking in different directions.
“that is… handled–”
“because he handled it.” you said sharply, dragging your smile to your features again. the principal was seeing through it much more now. 
he sighed. “i called you here more to discuss the state of megumi’s relationships.”
“and how is this relevant to the incident at hand?” you spoke slowly, nodding your head forward as if to say: choose your next words wisely. 
“well, it’s hardly isolated. in most situations like these, the root cause stems from home life.” he rushes out his words, his accusatory stare turning to one of caution as he meets your eyes again. not so much for your sake, but for his. “to be frank, i don’t believe he’s receiving the right attention at home.”
there was a quiet shuffle outside, against the office door. out of your peripheral, you watched as a shadow was cast over the sliver of light peeking through the bottom by the squeaky rubber of what you knew were two pink tennis shoes. 
your jaw, if possible, tensed even more. megumi’s head snapped to you, catching the slightest tick as you jutted your chin in the direction of the principal. once he wasn’t so taken by fear, he could appreciate your ability to contain the cursed energy that flowed through you. he was unable to detect even a rouse of energy, whereas his nerves manifested in the palms of his fists with an unruly flame licking his forearms. beside him, he sensed the presence of gojo’s infinity, activated on pure reflex as his body recognized the looming hostility in the atmosphere.
“i have to say i disagree–” your head tilted to the side, and you ignored the loud gulp of your counterpart. 
“i expected as much. it’s my understanding that neither of you are all that present at home, it’s been said you both take long trips out of town for your work? is that true? have you considered the effects this has on megumi and tsumiki? i’ve heard she often–”
in an instant, your pupils shrank themselves into the size of needles, the color of your eyes remaining concentrated with anger. the muscles around your eyes twitched as you fought off the indignant expression that threatened to reveal itself.
“and i find this an inappropriate conversation to broach with megumi in the room,” your voice raised slightly as you cut him off. “there is a time, a place, and a counselor more suited for this discussion– and you’ve overlooked every measure and jumped to the conclusion he’s neglected? and from what, exactly? things that have ‘been said’ on campus grounds, by other children? rumors? i’m ashamed to see the lack of forethought prior and instead you jump to scrutinize blindly.”
every word was charged with venom, further filling the office space with an uncomfortable strain at their muscles. satoru winced, sliding his palms over the armrest to relieve himself of the sticky sweat he’d accumulated– and he had unconsciously squeezed the metal into a new shape. his chest was tight as you sucked the air from his lungs and used it to break down the principal with the eloquence of your words.
“it speaks to the reputation you’ve accrued, though. i expected as much.”
“excuse me–!”
you raised your palm. “i’m not sure i can. you summon us to an office to insult us and insunitate we aren’t parenting our son, not even present in his life, and on top of it have the gall to call him a delinquent?”
you rose to your feet, narrowed eyes still settled on the man in front of you. megumi and satoru were quick to rise with you, unsteady hands settling on their chairs to prevent them from hitting the floor. the principal went ignored as he urged satoru with his eyes to speak up, to put a stop to the scene before him. unfortunately for him, satoru’s eyes were trained on you with unwavering loyalty, waiting with baited breath for your next move. 
the principal faced his palm to you, gesturing for you to sit. “miss y/l/n–”
“it’s gojo.” you snagged your jacket from the armrest, glowering eyes promptly cutting him off. he gawked like a fish out of water, a thin layer of sweat beginning to sheen over his forehead. “you better update your damn records before the next time i’m back here.”
you opened the door swiftly, catching tsumiki side-stepping at the last second to feign innocence. a futile attempt, you both know, as she reddens with embarrassment and turns her head with a lingering pout.
following you into the empty halls of the middle school was like a breath of fresh air for satoru and megumi, the cool atmosphere consoling them from the warping heat of your vexation. the raven-haired boy gravitated to his sister as they shared a concerned expression, your unaccustomed anger driving knots into their stomachs. your silence was deafening, the only sound being the rapid thumps of your footsteps overshadowing the entourage of much quieter ones behind you.
satoru fell into step with you, slipping his glasses down to the tip of his nose as he observed. it was in his nature to poke the bear, to push and push and push until it broke, and he would relish in the chaos that followed. however, since you were thrust upon his life his mind was overridden with an instinct to preserve your open heart laid bare before him, to ease your tensions and give until there was nothing left of him. to pull you closer and closer until you were one.
at your wish, he’d part the seas and move mountains and throw himself across every puddle in between for you to walk on.
“tsumiki, megumi, can you go get your stuff from your lockers?” your tone softened, despite the crinkle you still held between your eyebrows. even as your anger dissipated, your frustrations lingered like the kindling of a fire ready to light itself again.
they nodded fervently, disappearing down one of the hallways with quick footsteps. satoru kept himself in line with you as you approached the vestibule of the school entrance, a delicate hand finding your wrist and fingers pressing gently into your palm. 
he closed the distance, leaning into you. his voice ghosted the shell of your ear as he teased, “you know, seeing you get all riled up was kind of hot.”
you scrunched your nose, biting back a smile. you didn’t have to look at him to know he was wiggling his eyebrows. unfortunately, even the days you tried to wallow in your anger he was there to sweep it away. “yeah, right. that’s why you were shaking in your boots.”
“shaking? me?” his free hand splayed against his chest and he looked to the ceiling with a roll of his eyes. “only out of concern for that poor principal.”
“you don’t think he deserved it?”
“i think you went too easy on him.” satoru smirked. it was your turn to roll your eyes. 
the two of you fell quiet again, satoru with an unrelenting stare. you finally met his eyes as he silently wished for, he poured admiration into his gaze and hopes you would let it cling to you in the way he was desperate to with his own arms.
your eyebrows narrowed again as a heavy could hung over your heade. as you began to reflect, your shoulders sagged under the weight of your thoughts. “he’s wrong though, right?” 
satoru forced you to take a proper hold of his hand, squeezing as you averted your gaze. 
“of course he’s wrong, we’re great to that little brat.” he threw his arm up in exaggeration, his body closely following as it wrapped itself around your shoulders like it had a mind of its own. there’s a comment lingering on the tip of his tongue, he doesn’t utter it, knowing it’s stinging the back of your mind as well– it was either us or the zenin clan. “both of them. if they had any issues i’m sure they would’ve ran away already.”
you frowned at him. long ago, when satoru had first dragged them into your life, the fear loomed over you daily. the possibility of them running away, deciding the streets would be better than two crazed strangers that spoke of monsters and cursed energy, had constricted your muscles with fear to the point of physical exhaustion. 
you always tormented yourself with the question if they really liked living with you, being raised by you despite the chaos of jujutsu (and the excruciating taunts of satoru gojo). 
come to think of it, you don’t know the last time something like that crossed your mind. 
“really. you’re doing a great job, you always have. especially considering our…” he lowered his voice to a playful whisper, “unconventional circumstances.”
“do you think they want to leave?”
“not a chance. i’m sure they’re siphoning money out of my bank accounts as we speak, and they’ll use me ‘til i die.”
you smiled, shaking your head. the fear in your composure was beginning to resolve, as you melted into the warmth of his hand. he took that as his invitation to reel you in closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. he reached forward and gently pressed his thumb into the space between your eyebrows, satisfying the urge that had been buzzing his fingertips for what felt like forever. pride swelled in his chest when he pulled his hand away and you relaxed, your expression no longer holding on to your sorrows.
for good measure, he placed a sloppy, wet kiss in your cheek that you squealed at. he grinned as you tried pushing him away through your laughter, slapping against his chest– a futile attempt as he only tightened his grip on you and pulled you impossibly closer to land another one on your opposite cheek. 
“you– are so– annoying–!” you claimed through giggles, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. his slobber came with it, all that remained being the hot flush of embarrassment.
“how could you wipe away my love so easily?” he pouted. he began to dip you– or rather, you began to dip yourself as he leaned closer and closer. 
“we’re at a school, there could be children around.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, dangerously close to being horizontal. 
“so? at some point they take a sex ed class, right?”
“satoru!”
after scurrying through the halls, tsumiki watched with a bored stare as megumi stretched for the top shelf of his locker for his textbooks, her arms crossed as she leaned against the cream locker next to his. he still had to rise to his tippy toes, being a little less than a head shorter than her. she heard that boys hit their growth spurts later and it was a lot more sudden, she wondered if he’d end up taller.
he slipped each book into the backpack hanging half-zipped on his shoulder at a leisure pace. his pinched expression had a striking similarity to the one you held barreling out of the office, though he held less anger, and he seemed disconnected from his surroundings. there was a fog over his eyes while he mulled over his thoughts.
she rolled her eyes at the mysterious demeanor he fought so hard to maintain. she believed he probably thought he seemed cool that way– too cool to express his vulnerability.
“so, she called you her son.”
megumi glanced at her with a quick side-eye, pausing the rough shove of his textbook into his bag. as much as he wished to stay reserved and withdrawn from the rest of the world, she always seemed to know what he was thinking. annoyance weighed in his chest.
“okay, so?”
she looked at him expectantly. “so, how do you feel about it?”
“i feel fine.”
“are you going to say anything to her?”
he rolled his eyes. “it was a slip of the tongue, tsumiki. there’s nothing to say.”
she glared for a brief moment, before reaching for the last book at the top of his locker. it was tucked in the corner too far for him to grab himself, she wondered how he got it up there in the first place.
tsumiki handed it to him, and he begrudgingly accepted it. as much as he hated asking for help, he hated her offering without asking much more. 
“you know that’s not true. i heard her talking in there, she didn’t stutter once. she knew what she was saying, even if she was pissed off.”
he was quiet, shutting the metal door with a soft click that contrasted his hardened expression. or, the attempt he could muster with reddened cheeks and a gentle understanding in his gaze. guilt filled his stomach, you were really pissed. “so, what, you want me to start calling her mom?” he continued with a mumble, “i’m not calling gojo dad, ever.”
tsumiki didn’t point out that he implied he was open to calling you mom, instead turning her head with a proud smirk. ”pfft, he’d never let you live it down.”
the pair fell into stride in the hallway, soft footsteps echoing in the halls. megumi caught the glances of his peers in their classrooms, peaking into the hall window with curiosity wondering why they’d be roaming.
“maybe we get her a mother’s day card this year,” tsumiki pondered out loud, reflecting on the day in years past. thank you cards had sufficed thus far, despite the lingering tension around the holiday and the bouquets thrown on your dining room table, none of you ever broached the topic of motherhood.
megumi stayed quiet, looking out the window and ignored the growing grin of his sister. she knew well the lack of his pushback might as well have been him jumping up and down with glee. the picture drew out a muffled giggle that made his cheeks burn.
“do you think she’s mad?” he asked out loud. he knew you were. as long as you’d been in their lives there was an everlasting sweetness of your composure, and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. 
tsumiki laughed loudly now, though short-lived as they turned the corner and spotted you at the end of the hall. your hair was a bit tousled and your husband had his arms wrapped around you pathetically, whining about something she was sure you could all agree was insignificant. you stood tall to the best of your ability, being weighed down by the stature of a 6’3” man.
your eyes snapped to them with a natural instinct, spotting the slightest figure of your dependents, your kids, and keeping a watchful eye. your gaze softened as tsumiki grinned, grabbing her brother's arm and pulling him to match her quickening pace.
she was always quite perceptive. from afar, she detected the warmth of your admiration reaching out with tentative fingers carefully beckoning them into your embrace. 
“i think she’s over it.”
(p.s. you weren’t– megumi was on dish duty and had to help tsumiki with her english homework that week.)
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atlabeth · 3 months
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a rose and her thorns | luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!daughter of aphrodite reader
summary: luke vies for a valentine. you're just trying to get through cabin inspections.
a/n: take this as my formal apology for the angst i’ve been throwing at you all with demeter girl lol and take this tooth rotting fluff. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away, after writing that 11k angst riddled monster this was a much needed palate cleanser lmao
wc: 3.3k
warning(s): no warnings this is all fluff <3
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You huffed as you knocked on the door again, chewing on the inside of your lip as you waited for a response. The Hermes cabin usually always had kids in it—either they were ignoring you, or they were just causing too much ruckus to even hear it in the first place.
Honestly, you should have known this was how cabin inspections with Luke would go. He was probably in there right now, ushering all of them through rapid last-minute tidying in the hopes of something higher than a one. You had half a mind to knock a point off right now by virtue of tardiness.  
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up all of a sudden, and you whirled around. 
“Speak of the devil,” you said wryly. 
You were greeted with Luke Castellan himself, his hands up with a slight smile on his lips. “Easy. I didn’t think I looked that bad.” 
Your brows creased ever so slightly, and he gestured with head. You looked down and realized you were holding your pen like a sword. You cleared your throat and let your arm drop, adjusting your shirt on the way down. 
“Sorry. People tend not to sneak up on me.” 
“I can’t imagine why.” Luke put his hands down and started towards his cabin, craning his head back at you. “What brings you here on this fine day, Rose?” 
“Don’t tell me you forgot,” you pouted, holding up your clipboard and pen as you followed him. “We’re on inspection duty together. Where were you?” 
He snapped and pointed at you. “That’s what we were doing together today! I knew we were spending time together—not like I could forget that—but,” his hand paused on the doorknob, “I kind of forgot about the cabin inspection part. Had to spend a little extra time with one of your siblings at the end of sword-fighting lessons.” 
“Sounds like Liz is getting better, then.” A smug smile pulled at your lips as you stopped next to him. “And it sounds like someone’s gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight,” you said in a sing-song voice. 
You placed your hand over his and opened the door, and Luke groaned. “Take mercy, Rose. Please.” 
It was certainly a sight—more akin to a tornado than the inside of a cabin. Various kids—Hermes, unclaimed, and minor gods alike—ran around, shoving dirty clothes beneath beds, cramming duffles and suitcases into overflowing closets, with a few noble exceptions attempting the Sisyphean task of actually cleaning. 
“Wow,” you said, glancing down at the papyrus scroll. “Can I give you a zero?” 
“Listen,” Luke said from behind you, “our thing isn’t tidiness. It’s thievery—swiftness, cunning, panache.” 
“I thought you were supposed to be jacks of all trades,” you mused as you checked off boxes. “Cleaning is a trade.” 
“Not here.” You could feel him peering over your shoulder and he groaned yet again. “Come on! You’re grading us way too low. I get input too, remember?” 
“Sure,” you remarked. You held out the clipboard and gestured with your head at the natural disaster in front of you. “But you can’t tell me this is anything better than a two.” 
“A two’s better than a one.” Luke plucked the pen out of your hand and scrawled out a number two on the final line. 
“Luke—” you started in protest, but he just snatched the clipboard as well with a wink as he started walking backwards towards the door. 
“We’ve got a chance, guys!” he called out. “Hephaestus has gotta be worse than this!” 
You huffed as you chased after him, shutting the door on your way, and you crossed your arms as you came to a stop in front of him. “This isn’t very cooperative of you.” 
“Gotta give myself a chance,” Luke said, smiling as he took the Hermes sheet off the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket. 
“That’s just cheating,” you said, and he let you take the clipboard back from him. You started walking, and he fell into pace with you. “Hephaestus is next—we’ll see how much of a chance you have.” 
“We should get some slack because we’ve got double the campers,” Luke said. “Nine’s got no excuse—they’re just a bunch of messy engineers.” 
You tapped your pen against the board. “I’m not changing my mind, Castellan.” 
“Ouch,” he winced. “I got last name’d.” 
You merely smiled and shook your head. You could see his own smile in your peripherals, then he huffed.  
“You’re distracting me from my whole plan with these ridiculous grades,” Luke sighed. “I haven’t ruined everything, have I?”
“You’ve got a plan?” you asked in amusement. 
“Of course I do.” Luke took a few long strides to get in front of you then turned around so he was walking backwards, that stupid smirk still on his lips as he kept eye contact with you. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.” 
“You’re very observant,” you said. “Watch your six.” 
Luke moved a step towards you to avoid a younger camper with their head buried in a book, and you chuckled as he shrugged. 
“It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. 
You hummed, biting back your smile as you came up to the Hephaestus cabin. You were about to knock on the door, but once again, Luke caught your wrist. 
“You’re not even gonna let me say my piece?” he asked. 
“I’ll give you a little time to polish it up,” you said. 
“You assume I don’t have it prepared already?” 
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You winked. “But I know the effect I have on you.” 
Luke’s fingers loosened on your wrist and you allowed a small, self-satisfied smile as you pulled free and knocked on the door. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the door opened and their counselor—Alya, if you remembered correctly—greeted you with a smile. 
“Just in time,” she said, smudging the bit of grease on her face as she wiped at her cheek. “We’re actually not horrible today.” 
Luke grumbled beneath his breath as you walked in together—usually, the place was a mess of loose parts and hastily sketched out plans and smoke-scented clothes. Today, it was still a mess, but slightly less so. 
“Damn it,” Luke muttered. “Still not as bad as us.” 
“Stop comparing your place to everyone else,” you said. “This is supposed to be fun.” 
“Cabin inspections are fun?” he asked wryly. 
“Hanging out with me is fun,” you clarified. “I—”
You were cut off with a gasp of your own as you slipped, and before you could even fully process it you were falling. It wasn’t until everything steadied that you realized someone had caught you, strong arms cradled you around your waist. You looked up to see Luke’s wide eyes. 
“You good?” he asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. 
“Yeah,” you said, nodding far too many times, “yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” 
“...Good,” he said, ever eloquent. 
A small smile creeped in. “You can let me go now.” 
It almost took him a moment to come back to Earth, because he blinked before he nodded, smiling on his own as he helped you back up. You could feel the heat in your face and tried your best to ignore it as you looked down. A small pool of oil was the culprit—you grimaced at the thought of having to clean that out of your jeans. Thank the gods for Luke. 
“That’s gotta be points off,” Luke whispered in your ear, still close by, and you stifled a laugh. “Oil on the floor, making pretty counselors slip. Right?” 
You ignored him too, looking over at Alya, though you couldn’t stop your smile. She looked mortified. 
“I am so sorry,” she rushed. “I guess Michael didn’t clean as well as he said.” 
“No problem,” you said. “I’ve got a little guardian angel. But this place isn’t too great.” 
“Damn,” she mumbled. “I even got one of your sisters to come in and help clean things up. Do you not smell the perfume?” 
“The smoke kinda overpowers it,” you said sympathetically, and she sighed. “Three out of five, Alya. But you’re right on the edge of a four.” 
Alya glanced at Luke. “Better than Hermes?” 
Luke grimaced. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 
She smiled and went off to talk to one of her siblings. Luke shook his head and tutted once she was gone. “The double standards here are ridiculous, Rose. I might have to report you to Chiron.” 
“Oh, quiet.” You hit him in the side lightly with the clipboard and continued scanning the room for  a final check. “If you wanted help with cleaning up from an Aphrodite kid, all you had to do was ask.” 
“And would you have accepted?” he asked. 
“Of course,” you said as you scribbled down your last couple of notes. “I’ll always help you, Luke.” 
He went silent as you continued to write, and when you finished you saw he was only looking at you. 
You frowned. “What?” 
“Nothing,” Luke said, still smiling. “Let’s keep going.” 
You stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. So you just laughed a bit and shrugged. Luke followed behind you as you walked out, and despite his claims of ‘nothing’ just a moment ago, soon enough he was talking again. 
“So,” he said, “Valentine’s Day.” 
“Valentine’s Day,” you said sagely. “What’s your plan?” 
“Be my Valentine.” 
“That’s your plan?” You glanced over at him. “Just asking me out straight-up?” 
“Oh, sorry. I also have this.” Luke pulled something out of his back pocket and held it out. You couldn’t help but laugh. 
“A rose?” you asked with a lopsided smile. 
“Not just any rose,” he said as you took it. “A chocolate rose.” 
“You are so cute.” You pulled the wrapper off, and though the stem and leaves were plastic, the flower was, indeed, very much chocolate, and in the shape of a rather pretty rose. 
Luke shrugged. “Figured you needed something as sweet as you.” 
“I’ve got a toothache just from being with you,” you remarked. You broke it in half with a bit of effort and offered it to Luke. 
“You can’t just split the gifts I get for you with me.” 
“They’re my gifts,” you said. “I can do whatever I want with them.” 
“Really?” he asked. 
“What’s a rose without her thorns?” you responded. Luke grinned as he took the other half from you. You popped yours into your mouth and your eyebrows rose. 
“This is actually good chocolate,” you said as Luke ate his part. “Not like that crap we get at the camp store.” 
“I might’ve snuck out to the city to get the good stuff,” Luke said offhandedly. 
You looked at him incredulously. “What?” 
“Did I stutter?” 
“You risked all that trouble just to get some chocolate for me?” you marveled. “Hell from Chiron, extra chores for a month, literal monster attacks—” 
Luke held up a hand, stopping your ranting. “Nothing happened. And even if it did,” he shrugged, “you’re worth it. So it doesn’t matter.” 
You shook your head and Luke continued. “Besides, I got some other stuff too for the rest of my plan.” 
“Right,” you nodded, “you never finished telling me.” 
“How’s your schedule?” 
“Busy,” you said. “I’m an Aphrodite kid during Valentine’s season.” 
Luke tipped his shoulder. “Fair. Think you can block something out for me?” 
“That depends what it is,” you said. 
“It’s a secret,” he said. 
You stared at him. “A secret?” 
He nodded. “It might be a foreign concept to you Aphrodite kids, but—” 
You cut him off with a light shove and he only chuckled in response. “So you talk yourself up and it ends up being a secret.”
“I think I’ve earned some secret surprises,” Luke said. “I’m already sweeping you off your feet.” 
You shook your head, smiling inwardly as you tapped your pen against the clipboard. “Is that how you see it?” 
“Well, I did keep you from an untimely death back there,” he said. “And the more unfortunate plight of having to get oil stains out.” 
“You read my mind,” you mused. 
“And isn’t that worth a date?” Luke asked. “Saving you from a fashion faux pas?” 
“You’re worth a date all on your own,” you said as you came up to the next cabin—Apollo was bright as ever, gleaming golden in the sunlight—and you looked at him with a smile. “No rescuing required.” 
-
Your journey to the rest of the cabins went by relatively quickly, especially the Apollo and Ares cabins—you think Luke had been temporarily stunned into silence by you actually flirting back. 
You’d had a subdued smile on your face nearly the entire time, even as you felt warmth bloom over your face again. Luke really brought out the inner Aphrodite in you—you were sure your mother was proud, wherever she was watching. What seemed to get Luke out of his addled state was the 5/5 you gave to your own cabin—he complained that the scent of perfume gave him a headache, and when you said you’d been wearing perfume the entire day, he claimed that it was different. 
(Cabin Ten kept their full score. It was amazing what a pretty smile could do, especially when Luke was the victim.) 
Finally, you were at the Demeter cabin. Luke insisted on going there last, so that all the expectations would be tapered—he was still trying to get a better score for his cabin, but the odds were looking pretty slim. The door was already open, and you smiled at the newly grown flowers outside the cabin. 
“Nice touch.” 
Luke sighed. “Great. Going out with a bang.” 
“It’ll be fine, Luke,” you said. “I’ll help you clean your cabin tonight.” 
He frowned. “You were actually serious?” 
“Of course I was.” You tipped your head. “It’ll just have to be pretty late. Y’know, because you’ll be cleaning all the dishes.” 
“Low blow,” he said, shaking his head. You chuckled as you stopped in the doorway and poked your head in. 
“Hey, Katie,” you called to the counselor. “How’re things?” 
“Good,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own bloomed on her lips as her gaze moved over to Luke. “I see Rose and her thorns are on duty today.” 
“Flattery won’t help you with your score,” Luke mused as he walked into the cabin. You smiled as he held out his hand for the clipboard, and you finally acquiesced. You could feel Katie’s eyes on you as he walked further in. 
“He takes that as a compliment?” 
“Thorns protect a rose,” you said, still watching Luke. He played the part of a foreman well, investigating their shelves and walls with vigor and even opening drawers. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and Luke looked back and smiled at you. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he winked as he gave you a thumbs-up. 
“And he protects you?” she asked. 
You shrugged. “We protect each other.” 
“…You would be cute together,” Katie admitted. 
You managed to tear your eyes away from Luke, leaning back against the wall. “You think so?” 
“He’s only been vying for your attention and flirting with you since the moment you got to camp,” she said wryly. “But you’re the expert on love—you tell me.” 
You bit your lip as your gaze darted back to Luke, who was squatting on the floor having what looked to be a very serious conversation with a younger Demeter boy. 
“I think I’m his valentine,” you said, almost absentmindedly. “And I think I’m really looking forward to whatever this date is.” 
Katie came back into focus as you came back to Earth, and even she was smiling. “Then I think you’ve got your answer.” 
Luke had picked the most opportune moment to come back, when you weren’t staring at him like an infatuated idiot—you were only one of those things—and he held out the clipboard and pen to you. “After having a very in-depth conversation with Damian about how things are going here, I scored them properly.” 
You chuckled as you took it from him, but your eyebrows rose the more you read. “You’re kidding me.” 
He shook his head. “There’s unpaid labor going on here—unpaid child labor. Damian said he’s responsible for half the cleaning and plants here.” 
“We’re all children. All the labor we do is child labor,” you deadpanned. “And we’re sure as hell not getting paid.” 
Luke held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just delivering what he’s said.” 
“Don’t tell me he gave us all ones,” Katie said dryly. 
“You know him so well,” you mused. You scribbled out half of what Luke wrote as you stood up from the wall, shielding it with your body so he couldn’t see while you walked out together. “See you, Katie!” 
Her protests fell on Luke’s deaf ears as he held up the rear, shutting the door behind you two, and when you looked back at him he was grinning. 
“Straight ones,” he tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. Looks like they’re gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight.” 
“You know they got a five, Luke,” you said, finally allowing him to see your revised marks. “If you’re gonna fudge the numbers, at least try and make them believable.” 
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “A five is way too nice—it’s not fair that they can just grow plants all over and make everything look presentable. Using powers should count as cheating.” 
“Their floors are clean, their beds are made, and it smells like floral heaven,” you said. You tapped his chest with your pen. “You could learn something from them, Castellan.” 
He caught your wrist before you could move it away. “The Aphrodite cabin always gets perfect scores. Think you could teach me a few things?” 
You grinned as you pulled your hand out of his grip and continued walking, this time en route to the Big House to drop off the final inspections. “That depends.” 
“On what?” Luke came back into your peripherals as he caught up to you. 
“On how good this secret plan of yours is,” you mused. 
His eyes lit up, past worries of low inspection scores seemingly fading away in an instant. “So it’s a go? You’re in?” 
“Of course I am,” you said, tucking the clipboard under your arm. “You got me the good chocolate, Luke. How could I not see where this goes?” 
Previously unnoticed pressure dissolved in his shoulders as he took your hands in his. You could only focus on his eyes, on the warmth of his skin, on the callouses borne from years of sword-fighting. 
He was surely blessed by your mother. 
“You’re not gonna regret it,” Luke vowed. “All those promises I’ve made about blowing you off your feet, about making your mother proud—they’re all gonna be true.” 
“You know what wise men say,” you said wryly. 
“That they’re so glad you’re finally giving me a chance?” 
“Only fools rush in,” you provided. “Going all in on our first date seems a little hasty.” 
“Isn’t your whole thing supposed to be rushing in?” he asked cloyingly. “Y’know, daughter of love and all.” 
You shrugged. “Maybe I like taking the idea of taking it slow with you.” 
“Then call me a fool,” Luke mused, letting go of one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His own curls hung over his eyes and you had the strongest urge to take his face in your hands. “Because you should know I can’t help it.” 
You felt your cheeks heat as warmth spread all over, and you couldn’t even try to hide your smile. “You think you can take me out on one of those city trips of yours? Show me how to steal a camp van without getting in the most trouble?” 
“I’m trying to steal your heart here,” Luke said with a goofy grin, “but I think a van’ll do.” 
“Oh, don’t worry.” You took his hand back, intertwining your fingers together as you pulled him closer to you. “We can multitask.” 
2K notes · View notes
mewvore · 6 months
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growing close with a four armed girl
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eddiesghxst · 4 months
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LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN - AN EDDIE MUNSON X READER AU
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credit for cute lil cut off divider: @cafekitsune
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18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader
summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you
contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3
word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)
-masterlist-
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Eddie might be way in over his head.
Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.
It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.
“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”
Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.
Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.
Jesus.
“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”
Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job. 
Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.
Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.
Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day! 
Good riddance.
Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.
Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now. 
And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.
Whatever.
Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”
Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.
One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”
Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.
So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.
She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.” 
“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.
Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”
Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.
How hard can it be?
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Apparently pretty fucking hard.
It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.
People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”
“Huh?”
“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”
Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”
“Good. You’re late.”
Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.
The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.” 
It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.
“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with. 
Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.
Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”
Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”
Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.” 
Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.
Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”
Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”
Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.
You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.
Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!
“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”
Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.
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“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”
Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.” 
The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”
The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.
You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.”
Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”
And, well, she’s not wrong.
Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.
But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.
You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.
“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”
You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”
You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.
He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.
It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.
Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”
You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.
"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."
It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap. 
You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.
You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.
"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”
You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”
Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”
You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.
You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.
And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you. 
"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.
Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.
“Let’s have a shot from the back.” 
Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him. 
“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.” 
Jesus.
You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.
Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.
God, who is this man?
You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.
You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.
And it's fun doing this with Eddie.
Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for. 
But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”
And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.
You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.
You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”
You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.
You might buy this film just to relive it.
You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”
It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.
You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”
You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”
Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.
You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks. 
You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you’re here?” You ask.
Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.
Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.
You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”
Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, “Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”
You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.
You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.
“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room. 
“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”
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A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.
Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.
Suck that, Robert.
However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.
You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”
Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”
You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods. 
“I was actually hoping to talk to you.” 
Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”
You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”
Oh.
Ohhhh.
“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.
You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.
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Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.
“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.” 
You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.
He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.
He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”
God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.
Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”
You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”
God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.
You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?” 
Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”
“You’re still weird.”
Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”
Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.
Eddie nods, “Shoot.”
You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?
“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”
You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”
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Eddie could leap for joy right now.
Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.
Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.
“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”
God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?
Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—” 
“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?” 
Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.
You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.
“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.
Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.
“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!
“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”
Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.
Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”
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Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.
Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.
He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door. 
Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.
Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.
It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.
Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has. 
“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”
You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”
The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.
You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”
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Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.
He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.
“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.
You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.
Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.” 
You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.
Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?” 
Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.
Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”
You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”
“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” “Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”
You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”
And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
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Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.
After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.
You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.
You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee. 
It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.
The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.
Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.
“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.
Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”
Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”
Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?” 
Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.
“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”
Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”
“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”
Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.
But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.
Eddie just thinks you’re neat. 
He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.
He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him. 
The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.
Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.
It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.
“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”
Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.
What a buzz kill.
Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.” 
You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.
“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”
Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”
You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”
The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.
You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.
“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.
Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.
Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.
Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.
“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.
You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.
Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.
Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.
“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.
Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.
Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.
His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine. 
He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.
“So good, princess—”
“Cut!”
You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into. 
These fucking cameras.
You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”
Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.
“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.
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Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.
It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.
You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.
And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.
He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”
“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.
You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”
Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”
Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”
You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?” 
Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”
The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes. 
Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”
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Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.
He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.
You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”
And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.
Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does. 
Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.
He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”
Shit.
God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.
“No.”
It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock. 
“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.
Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.
You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”
And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.
You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”
And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”
He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.
You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”
Jesus Christ.
Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.
You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.
Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.
And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.
You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.
Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.
He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.
You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”
Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.
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Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.
You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.
Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.
Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.
He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”
You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though. 
“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.
Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”
You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”
You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”
Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.
You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.
You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.
Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.
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Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.
It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”
Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”
You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.” 
And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!
“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”
No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.
Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.
It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.
“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.
You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.
It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.
The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.
It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.
And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.
He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.
He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.
Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.
Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.” 
Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.
Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”
He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them. 
Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.
The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows. 
“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.
And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.
Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.
You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping. 
“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.
Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.
He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.
Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.
“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.
Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.
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Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.
The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.
Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.
He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.
You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.
And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”
So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.
And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.
He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right. 
Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.
Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.
The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.
“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.” 
Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.
Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”
Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it. 
And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.
Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?
Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”
Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.
But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—
“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.
You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.
You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.
The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.
Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.
Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”
Eddie tries not to let that get to his head. 
He fails.
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The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.
The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.
Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”
Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”
And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle. 
And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.
“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”
Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”
And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.
“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”
You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”
Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.
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a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3
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cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside
3K notes · View notes
prncessjaeger · 5 months
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kiss it better ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
⋆୨୧˚ now, imagine coming home to your cute loft apartment from shopping as soft rock music playing from your’s and mikasa’s main bedroom tv and you bring home a big collection of lip glosses and other makeup products, “okay, so i went to sephora with sasha right, i mean you would know since you sent me money for it but! i got like 12 lipglosses and i wanted you to try them for me?”
she watched you changed into a cute pink shirt and short set, matching the same one mikasa had on (but her’s was black obvi) “try them on…? “yeah, like this,” you went and straddled the seemingly opened up spot on her lap and pulled out a random roller lip gloss and rubbed it on your lips, pulled her face towards yours and kissed her lips, “is it…grape?” “yes! now here’s some more gloss…i think it’s the sticky kind, but anyways c’mere,” she pushed her bangs from her face and puckered her lips once again, feeling the gloss more prominent on her lips, “try not to lick it this time,” smacking her teeth, she rubbed them together inhaling the very loud scent, “hmm blue raspberry?” mimicking the wrong sound, “wrong! it’s blueberry-”
“same thing and don’t go saying ‘well blue raspberry isn’t a fruit’ either, i know” she fixed your frames and still moved her bangs, “wait hold on-” you leaned over her, ignoring the rubs on your ass she was giving you and grabbed two hair clips, “here, lemme fix your hair, yeah?” you put the clips in her hair and giggled, seeing her look all adorable, “aww now let’s try this on and then i can give you a whole makeover shebang!” “oh boy.”
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ღ an: this was so short wtf
1K notes · View notes
rebelfell · 4 months
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multiples.
eddie munson x fem!reader
“Multiple? Multiple what?”
cw: smut blurb about eddie making sure you arrive properly. ref to period pain, fingering, oral (m & f receiving)
2.7k 18+ MDNI
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Eddie has a problem.
No, no, no—not a problem. That makes it sound like there was some issue he had to resolve or a task he had to complete. This is more delicate than that. A conundrum, maybe? A dilemma? Whatever he called it, it had consumed him for weeks now. And it boiled down to one thing:
He was pretty sure you weren’t coming.
At first, it was difficult to put a finger on what exactly was throwing him off. 
When the two of you got together, he was thrilled. Like, running through the streets naked, jumping on top of moving cars, Wilhelm screaming, over the goddamn moon kind of thrilled. He’d been into you since forever and had always felt totally comfortable around you. You were hilarious and cool and probably definitely the smartest person he knew, easy—not that the rest of his friends were like Rhodes scholars or anything.
Still, it kind of blew him away that someone like you was actually interested in him.
The longer you saw one another and the closer you got, he only liked you more and more. Then you guys started doing stuff and he sort of kind of lost his fucking mind. He’d never been with a person that felt so much like home; someone he felt like he could spend forever with, if you’d only have him. And the sex was…unbelievable.
You let your bodies have long, in-depth conversations that lasted into the night and then picked right back up again in the early morning. He hadn’t ruined this many sets of sheets since he was a snot-nosed pre-teen first discovering the loving embrace of his own fist. But as the fog of your initial sex haze dissipated, he couldn’t shake this one thought that kept coming back.
He didn’t want to toot his own horn or anything, but Eddie had it on pretty good authority he was above average when it came to making girls arrive. And with you…
Well, it was just different.
You were pretty quiet, for one. Which was kind of odd, considering how brash and brazen you could be normally. Eddie thought maybe you were just more subdued during sex. Sometimes it was the quietest, most mousy-looking girls who rattled his trailer roof the hardest. So maybe the reverse was also true? And there was nothing wrong with that, if it was. Just because he was vocal in bed, it certainly didn’t mean he expected you to be.
But when you came—or rather, when you said you were—it just didn’t quite feel like he expected.
He was no expert, mind you. But after having dealt so much in theatricality and role play, he’d developed quite an ear for insincerity. And you are anything but insincere.
When he had you pinned underneath him, his hips snapping as he drove you into the mattress, the way you squirmed and writhed and squeezed around him was pure fucking bliss. But then, just when he thought he was getting you going, you would be wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in close so he could hear your heated whisper.
“Gonna come for me, beautiful?” he’d ask, his hand dipping between your bodies to rub at your clit. You’d nod, almost too blissed out to speak.
“I did, I did,” you told him, more breath than words. “I came already—I wanna feel you.”
And, well, when you say it like that…it’s all he can do not to blow his load on the spot. 
It’s not that he doesn’t believe you. He just thinks maybe you don’t know what it feels like to really come. So it’s not that you’re faking—something is definitely happening down there—it’s just not an orgasm. At least not a decent one.
At least not one he wants to claim.
Considering the guys you’d dated, he’s not all that surprised. They all sounded like losers who worried about themselves first and only. Dumb jerks who thought their dicks were magic wands that made girls come as soon as they set foot in the lobby. He didn’t want to be like them.
He wanted to take you to the fucking penthouse.
But it’s tricky. He can’t just bring up something like this, can he? He doesn’t want to offend you. He doesn’t want you thinking he’s saying there’s something wrong with you. Because of course there isn’t. And he doesn’t want to keep going without you knowing what he’s trying to do.
Like he said…it’s delicate.
So the next time he had you over, he let you lead. He made no move to change your course as you kissed down his bare inked chest, over the sparse patch of hair that swirled just beneath his navel, and pulled him hot and leaking from behind his blue checkered shield. And even as his instincts screamed in protest, he let you take him into the warmth of your mouth and bob on his cock until he came—a shuddering, whining, blubbering mess as he filled your throat.
All part of the plan. All part of the plan.
It took a bit of time for him to recover and he spent every second of it loving on you—each graze of his fingers and lips leisurely, but thorough. He kissed all the parts of you he thought might have been left unattended too long: the undersides of your breasts marked by the indentations of your bra; the soft span of skin that ran along the inside of your forearm to the crease of your elbow; the sides of your ribcage that quivered at the tickle of his warm breath.
And he watched your face every step of the way, studying you until you dropped fully into that deeply relaxed state. He let his hand drift down between your legs, skimming them over the sensitive skin there, making you tremble all over in anticipation. Alright, this was it.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured, a low rumble between kisses along your collarbone.
“Yeah?”
You hummed out your reply, looking down at him with heavy lidded eyes, half gone already. It made Eddie grin, his smile all teeth.
Oh, this was gonna be fun.
“I was wondering if you’ve ever had a multiple?”
The question made your brow wrinkle and you frowned slightly. “Multiple? Multiple what?”
“Multiple orgasms,” he said with a light chuckle. “Like if I fingered you until you came and then went down on you until you came again. Made you come over, and over, and over…”
You gasped as his tongue traced the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your body.
“Can that…does that happen?” you asked with a breathy sigh. He just smiled at the adorably incredulous look on your face and nodded.
“Of course,” he said. “I think that’s like the main thing you guys have going for you in this arena. Something to make up for all the annoying shit you have to put up with from your body.”
Another chuckle makes his chest shake as he rubs a hand over your lower belly, remembering how you’d asked him once just to press on it with his strong, warm palm and offer some relief from your cramps that were particularly bad one night.
“Oh. I mean…I’ve heard that, I guess. I kind of always thought it was a joke.”
“Well, I might not get you there,” Eddie said, giving you a smile he hopes is reassuring. “And if it doesn’t feel good or it hurts or anything, just tell me and we’ll stop. No harm, no foul.”
You pinched the edge of his comforter between your fingers and tugged at it, twisting it into a little peak at your side. “That sounds…really good,” you told him quietly.
“So, I can try?” he asked, brow lifting. “It’s okay?”
“I mean, yeah…” You chewed your lip, still a little hesitant. “But what about you?”
Eddie smirked, all sly and wily as he brushed the backs of his fingers along the softness of your cheek. “We did me already,” he reminded you.
Your cheeks heated at the memory, the taste of his come still sitting warm on your tongue as you swallowed thickly. Admittedly, you’d been kind of surprised when he let you go down on him first and actually finished in your mouth. Normally he was tugging you off him as soon as he felt himself losing it, grunting out something about not wanting to go too quickly.
“Okay,” you said with a small smile. “It just seems a little unfair”
“How’s it unfair if it’s what I want?” he murmured, voice dropping back to that low rumble.
Hard to argue with that, you supposed. 
A beaming smile spread across your face and you twisted your fingers in the ball chain necklace that dangled around his neck to pull him closer. You answered his question with the press of your lips against his own, inhaling a shaky breath when you pulled away. Eddie’s nose nudged against yours, mashing into the softness of your cheek to resume the kiss. His hand came up to cradle your jaw and his mouth moved in that slow, sensuous way that made your insides dance and leap and spin like an entire company of ballerinas.
The kiss itself is so dizzying, you almost forgot about Eddie’s initial intentions until you felt his fingers begin to gently glide through your soaking folds. He swallowed your little mewl of relief as two of them finally sank inside your warmth while his thumb brushed teasingly light over your clit. It doesn’t take long at all for your arousal to coat his fingers, for your body to gush for him.
“Ed, I’m…I’m coming,” you breathed out, tingling with that initial burst of pleasure.
“Thats it, baby,” Eddie nodded, going along with it one last time. “You’re doing so good for me.”
He drew a single, high moan out of you—more like a gasp of relief as your body fully relaxed and all the stiffness in your shoulders and tension in your limbs melted away. You let your head loll to the side and smiled, almost dazed with the feeling. Pride surged in his chest from the way you looked at him sometimes—so perfectly content and elated because he was all yours. 
The look he gave you was rapturous as he licked his lips and started to make his way down, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake that dotted across your chest, between the valley of your breasts, down your sternum and the soft pudge of your tummy. You propped yourself up to watch him as his mop of dark curls dipped between your thighs, fingers still sitting snug inside your warm, wet walls. Your chest rose and fell with each deep breath and he could only imagine how hard your heart must be pounding for you to try and slow it like you are.
“I’m gonna try for another, okay?” he soothed. “Stay relaxed for me, beautiful.”
You nodded back and let your head drop down, sinking deep into the embrace of your pillow.
Eddie pumped his fingers a few more times, faster now and crooking them upwards in search of that spot inside you that had eluded him far too long. The deftness of his touch coupled with the eager swipes of his tongue had your body heaving now as he traced a maddening pattern, swirling side to side and weaving it through your center.
Eyes suddenly fluttering open and closed, you whined softly and squirmed in his grasp as his tongue decisively swerved away from where you needed him most. The anticipation made your hips rock into his face, chasing more of the feeling as he teased you relentlessly.
His free arm promptly wrapped around your thigh, his hand gripping at the soft flesh to keep your legs spread apart. He was deeply thorough in his exploration, nose occasionally brushing against your clit that was practically crying out for his attention. His hot breath fanned along your inner thighs and he moaned deeply with each lick so you could feel the vibrations in your core.
You lost track of how long he was down there, allowing yourself to be swept away with the riot of sensations, realizing just a little too late your body was working towards something new. 
The feeling creeps up on you, trickling through your muscles, causing all of them to twitch and spasm, tensing and releasing in waves. Little whines and pants of pleasure start to spill out of your mouth, the desperate little sounds like the most beautiful music to Eddie’s ears.
It makes him grind down into the bed, desperate to hear more.
“Feel good?” he asked, brow lifting behind sweaty bangs as round doe eyes look up at you.
“So g-good,” you panted, the sound almost pained with pleasure. “So sensitive…”
“You taste like heaven, you know that?” he murmurs to your cunt. “I could do this forever.”
He genuinely could, but it seems he won’t have to. You’re getting close now. He can feel it in the way your thighs start to tremble against his ears; the way another gush of you floods across his tongue. His eyes darted sideways to where your hand rests on the blanket, flexing with the need to grab onto something. Anything.
One last time, he squeezed at the meat of your thigh and then unwrapped his arm from around it to reach out instead and thread his fingers with yours. Your grip is bone crushing and only makes him hold on tighter as he points the tip of his tongue to increase its pressure.
“E-Eddie, it feels…something feels different…”
“It’s okay, baby,” he said, the pace of his fingers never faltering. “I’ve got you, just let go.”
He wished he could bottle the look on your face. Eyes scrunched up, brow furrowed as though you were deep in concentration. Lips parted in a wanton gasp as your chest swelled. His mouth came back to your clit, resuming the motions that had you clenching around his fingers.
“Oh…ohhh my…oh, fuck…”
When he feels you starting to unravel, feels that band coiled tight in your core start to snap, it takes everything he has in him to stay the course—especially when the hand of yours he’s not holding winds into his hair and you grasp desperately at his curls. The groan it elicits from him is deep and guttural, the sound of it radiating in the room. And finally he feels it happening—your pussy spasming around his fingers, threatening to snap them clean off you’re clenching so tight; hips bucking and stomach quivering with the effort of drawing breath.
“Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop!” you cried out. “That feels so good, holy fucking shit—”
So much for being quiet, Eddie thought mischievously.
Your head is pushing back into the pillow now, back arching under you, lifting you off the bed. He’s clamped tight against you though, his lips sealed around your clit and sucking like his life depends on it. In a way, it feels like it does.
“I’m gon…I’m gonna…I’m co—”
The words dissolve into a moan, the sound of it higher and louder than anything else Eddie has drawn out of you before. Pride explodes in his chest as he finally feels what he’s been waiting for—that exquisite vice around his fingers as he continues to stroke that sacred spot.
Your body floods with the feeling, waves of it surging through you, seeing white behind your eyes that are still pinched shut. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before—every synapse firing at once, every molecule in your body exploding like a tiny firework.
Distantly, you register his voice coaxing you through it as you reluctantly return to earth. Yes, baby, that’s it, thaaaat’s it—fuck me, you’re so fucking hot when you come, Jesus fucking Christ…
You opened your eyes, blinking through bleary vision as the world came back into focus.
Eddie grinned, smile almost wolfish when he lifted himself from between your legs. Triumph flashed in his dark eyes, his gaze roving all over as he began a slow crawl up your body, his cock now standing at attention with its vigor renewed.
“Okay,” he panted, dragging his hand across his mouth and chin that were slick with your spend as he leaned in to kiss you. “That’s one.”
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demigods-posts · 4 months
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the way percy just leaps for annabeth the second he sees her being pulled toward the pit. this girl was descending into literal hell. a place the gods themselves wouldn't dare to go. and without hesitation. he chose her over everything else.
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strange-birb · 4 months
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This is an old drawing I did like 10 months ago lol
But I love her so ✨💅
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formulafics · 6 months
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★ MINI…ER LANDO | LN4
scenario: in which lando and his wife reveal her pregnancy to the world (request)
pairing: lando norris x wife!reader
a/n: dad lando anyone? he’s a girl dad and that’s all. this one is super short and sweet, but i hope you all enjoy! i’m totally up to doing more dad lando if anyone wants it
PART TWO | PART THREE
requests open for smau’s | check pinned for more info
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ynnorris
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 336,789 others
ynnorris the last month - one of the best 🧡
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landonorris cant wait for baby norris
⤷ ynnorris cant wait either ☹️❤️
carlossainz55 congratulations 🎉
danielricciardo aren’t you guys still babies?
⤷ ynnorris very funny daniel
⤷ danielricciardo you know i’m just playing. on a real note, congratulations ❤️
georgerussel63 congratulations, yn!
⤷ ynnorris thank you george 🥰
mclaren new line of babies merch ✍🏻 got it.
lewishamilton happy for you both - you’re gonna be good parents. wishing you a safe pregnancy. 🙏🏻❤️
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lando.jpg
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liked by ynnorris, georgerussel63, daniel3.jpg, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, team_quadrent and 392,125 others
lando.jpg as of late…
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danielricciardo i thought my lecture on protection was really good. i guess not. 😞 congrats mate! cant wait to meet the little fella ❤️
maxfewtrell can the baby replace you on stream?
⤷ landonorris no
georgerussel63 mate i think you have a bit of pregnancy glow going on there
⤷ alex_albon he does, doesn’t he?
⤷ albonoformula HELP WHY IS GEORGE FUNNY
charles_leclerc i volunteer to babysit
⤷ ynnorris you’ll babysit lando? 🥹
⤷ landonorris 😐
norrisnation yn and lando are an old married couple at the ripe age of 24
⤷ estiebesties I KNOW I LOVE THEM
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
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“Steve, it’s an emergency. I need to kiss you. Actually, I need you to kiss me. But I can’t just do it without asking because what if you don’t want me to, and I practically attack you? So yes or no? I swear it’s for a good cause.” Eddie comes running up to Steve in the bar, panting so hard Steve can see the chest movements.
They have taken Robin to a bar out in Indy to get her laid finally. Or at least a tongue in her mouth. The girl is pent up. And it’s Steve’s job as best friend to make that happen (Robin has told him to stop saying that, ‘it is gross’). Eddie is the only other queer person they know and, luckily, has made quite a few trips to Indy to know which bars were the good ones. He tells Steve that, like Robin, he is desperate to get laid, so this is the perfect opportunity.
Steve does his best to try and ignore the burning jealousy he feels at that. Eddie doesn’t know about his feelings (hell about his sexuality), and Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn’t see him that way.
“Huh?” Asks confused, his brain struggling to process.
“Okay, I see you’re stuck on how to answer, but Steve—“ Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries not to swoon. “—my ex, the extra shitty one, is here, and if he sees me alone I’ll either a) go home with him tonight and—“
Steve cuts Eddie off with a searing kiss. The thought of Eddie going home with someone else was enough for Steve’s brain to catch up to speed. Steve presses Eddie against the bar. The loud bass of the music suddenly becomes a light thrum in the background. All that he feels is the delightful pressure of their lips together. Eddie’s hands slide up into Steve’s hair as he gets pressed harder into the bar. Steve’s hands' grip Eddie’s waist and give them a tight squeeze. The idea of bruises being left behind, a mark of what they are doing here, makes Steve deepen the kiss. His tongue used to massage Eddie’s, tasting the menthol and rum on his breath. Eddie moans loud and heavy, vibrating Steve’s entire body.
“Eddie?” A voice interrupts them. Steve feels his anger spark back slightly but wills it down because the interruption is probably needed. They are very close to getting kicked out for public indecency.
“Oh hey, Ryan.” Eddie looks the blonde man up and down. He’s cute, Steve notes, but he lacked personality in his appearance. He isn’t what Steve expects from an ex of Eddie’s. He isn’t naive enough to think Eddie dates exclusively metal heads, but he expects someone to match Eddie’s energy. This guy—Ryan apparently—looks like every other guy you’d find on a Sunday in Supermart. Boring and lacking imagination.
“Who’s this?” Ryan looks at Steve pissed.
“Steve?” Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, bringing Steve close up against him. “This is my boyfriend.”
“This dude’s your boyfriend?” Ryan snorts. “C'mon baby, I know you can do better.”
Steve feels his anger finally pop. “He is not your baby. Yea, he can do better than both of us combine, but I’m lucky enough to get him. Now, you interrupted our time together, and we both know you saw what we’re up to, so don’t act like it wasn’t on purpose.”
Ryan startles backwards, “I—“
“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear. I meant leave the fuck right now.” Steve grits out, some of his Upside Down protection mode popping out. Ryan scatters quickly.
“Jesus, Steve, that was amazing. I’m sorry I had to make you uncomfortable with that.” Eddie’s eyes find his and cuts Steve off before he can protest and explain no, he really did like that “—and you never even let me explain reason b, by the way! Reason b is b) he would probably humiliate me in the middle of the club.”
Steve nods at Eddie but has one track mind at this point. He grabs Eddie by the face this time before crashing their lips together once again. This time Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth as they both get lost in the kiss.
Steve pulls back ever so slightly and talks directly into Eddie’s mouth, “Sorry. I think he’s still staring. Needed to do more.”
Eddie, with swollen lips and a kissed-out face, looks around the bar to find nothing. “I don’t see him anywhere.”
Steve smirks and pulls Eddie by his belt loops so they are flushed together. Steve leans into Eddie’s ear and nibbles at his lobe. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think he’s actually in the bathroom. Maybe we should kiss in front of him there.” Steve whispers hotly.
Eddie’s brain, which has short-circuited much like Steve only minutes ago, finally catches up. Eddie groans, his face collapsing into Steve’s neck. He licks a stripe up Steve’s neck all the way to his mouth. “Fuck. Yea, baby, I think I saw him too. Think kissing, though, won’t be enough. We might need to up our game.”
Steve nips at Eddie’s lips, “I was hoping you would say that. Guess I just know how much you love your games, Eds.”
They meet each other for one last searing kiss before rushing to the bathrooms to share a very tight, very heated stall.
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