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incognit0slut · 1 year

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Lock your door

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

All y/n wanted was for her coworker to pay attention to her. Spencer was more than happy to oblige. Based on;

cw: 18+ explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), face sitting

wc: 3,9k (I'm a very descriptive writer you have been warned)

a/n: (reposted because of some error) I’m currently doing an ongoing series but once in a while, I like to write random plots, thus begins another series in which will all be one-shots based on songs i currently enjoy listening to… so yeah, this will be fun.

requests are open if you have a song in mind!

MASTERLIST

“…you better lock your door, and look at me a little more…”

Y/N WASN'T A SENTIMENTAL PERSON, but there was something about the way he looked tonight.

The fluorescent light coming from the hotel room danced across his face, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw. His eyes were in deep concentration as they scanned the document in his hand, his brows furrowed every time he came across something he couldn't comprehend.

Her eyes slowly raked down toward his Adam's apples, moving further across his chest, before they glided along the length of his arm. She couldn't help but notice the mesmerizing way his long fingers trailed along the words underneath his palm.

She always knew Spencer had nice, well-kept hands, but as she continued to observe them, she noticed how enticing they truly were. The size of them always surprised her, as well as the length of his fingers. But it was the veins running through the backs of his hands that really made her dry at the mouth, especially when the sleeves of his button-down shirt were folded above his wrists, showing off firm arms that didn't leave much to her imagination.

How long had she been staring at him? Gawking at him? It was hard to keep her eyes off of him when it was all she had been doing ever since she was introduced to the awkward twenty-four-year-old nerd that he was twelve years ago.

Twelve fucking years.

There should be some kind of reward for pining over your best friend for more than a decade. Y/n should be growing out of this yearning a long time ago yet somehow the more they worked together, the more it became hard for her to act as if every time his fingers innocently touched her skin there wasn’t this immense desire taking over her body, leaving her in a state of being completely swept away by the intensity of it.

Granted, Y/n knew she wasn't the only one attached to this infatuation. Words were never exchanged, although observing and analyzing people's behavior for a job helped her notice the exact same desire reflected in his eyes. She could tell in the way he looked at her, the way his pupils dilated every time he focused on her mouth.

But things between her and Spencer had always been complicated. Her early interest came unnoticed when the person he preferred to ask on a date was another one of their colleagues, and when he grew out of that brief crush and had the courage to finally ask her out, she was already in a relationship.

When that relationship ended begrudgingly and she needed a shoulder to cry on, Spencer's heart was already taken for a mysterious girl he guarded to himself. But that love affair only became a heartbreaking tragedy as it ended before it even began.

It was ever since then that Y/n made a mental note to never indulge her feelings toward one of the closest people in her life. She deemed it inappropriate after everything he'd been through, especially when he made it clear that getting involved with the opposite sex was the very last thing on his mind.

Until something shifted a few days ago.

She wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was the traveling into yet another foreign part of the country that made everything seem different, or maybe it was being in close proximity for more than forty-eight hours that had her watching him so earnestly.

But whatever it was, the sudden shift had her looking at the adorable young man he once was into this attractive, irresistible man she viewed as more than a mere friend. A man whose eyes glazed over her mouth this morning yet managed to be oblivious to how she was the one gawking at him now.

Maybe it was time to end their flirtatious dance. Maybe it was time to stop skirting along the what-ifs flowing in her mind. Y/n glanced at the man in front of her, watching the way his back hunched over the table as he buried himself further into deep concentration.

“Spence."

He hummed a soft response, his eyes still trailing the words printed on the document.

"Spencer."

He slightly tilted his head, an indication he was listening but kept himself busy as he continued his reading.

"Dr. Reid."

There was a certain cadence in her voice that sounded oddly pleasing. Spencer reacted to the low timbre of her voice with a glance, his eyes skimming along her leg which rested on top of the other, a glimpse of soft skin teasing his senses as the material of her dress lay softly against her thighs. His eyes snapped back to her face, noticing the lopsided smirk on her lips.

"What is it?"

"Aren't you going to take a break?" Her eyes shot toward the document in his hand. "You've been reading nonstop ever since I got here."

The latter statement was the one that caught his attention. "What's the reason you're here again?"

Y/n wondered whether explaining how she wanted to run her hands through his disheveled hair while he buried his face along her neck would be deemed appropriate. But she had too much pride to admit that. Instead, she uncrossed her legs with a satisfied glint in her eyes as she caught him staring.

She might not want to convey her attraction through words, but carrying out the art of seduction was a very different matter. Temptation had this alluring appeal that drew people in, a certain type of feeling that could often lead a person to do things they usually wouldn't do. And it was what she had in mind as she leaned over the table, the collar of her dress gracefully dropping with her movement, publicly displaying her cleavage.

"I thought you might need company," she simply said. "But I've been sitting here for almost an hour and you haven't engaged me in a conversation."

His eyes flared on the sensual way her breasts were pressed against her clothes before he quickly looked away. "Well, these documents aren't going to read for themselves."

She almost rolled her eyes at his response. "But aren't your eyes tired? Don't you want to take a break?"

He glanced at the stack of papers sitting on his side of the table. "I don't think that would be the wisest thing to do."

"Not even a five-minute break?"

"Especially a five-minute break."

She slumped in her chair as he diverted his attention back to his task, already engrossing himself in another document while ignoring the baffled look on her face. Was she looking at this differently? Was she wrong to think that some untold infatuation lingered between them all these years?

Y/n couldn't help but feel disappointed. Disheartened by the lack of attention, she abruptly stood up and moved along the carpet floor of his room. Her sudden movement caught him by surprise. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere that might actually appreciate my presence."

She heard him heave out a sigh as he got up from his seat. "You know you're welcome here."

"Am I though?" She taunted, her hand already on the doorknob as she threw him a look over her shoulder. "You barely glanced at me, Spence."

"I was working. You know I need to find any potential evidence from all these files."

A sense of guilt washed over her as she watched him take a tentative step forward. "I know. I just... all I wanted was for you to look at me." Her guilt-ridden concern was replaced by embarrassment when he didn't respond. She quickly shook her head. "You know what? Never mind."

An immense feeling of shame and embarrassment traveled through her body as she turned around. What else was there to do than to flee from his scrutinizing gaze? Her hand gripped the doorknob before she pulled it, ready to fly out the room when a hand suddenly hovered over the edge of the door, softly pushing it back into place.

The sudden silence unnerved her, picking the pace of her heart when she realized she was very much flushed against his body. She could feel herself trembling as her grip slipped off the doorknob. She watched the way his long fingers glided down the hard surface of the door in intense interest.

His rough hand engulfed the lock on the door and she felt his other hand grasp her hair, slightly moving it away for better access to whatever he had in mind. His tone was quiet but undeniably gruff when he mumbled, “It's not that I don't want to look at you, Y/n.”

This was not how she had expected the night would go. Well, maybe it was what she had hoped for, but now that it was actually happening, she completely froze on the spot. She didn't know what to do, the gears in her head were moving to initiate a proper reaction but immediately came to a halt when his other hand banded around her waist as he pressed himself to her back, murmuring into the slope of her shoulders.

"But a five-minute break is not enough for me…”

His breath was hot on her neck.

“…to do..."

Her head lulled back as he pressed a kiss.

"…the things..."

Her skin shivered as he flicked his tongue.

"…I want to do to you."

She watched as he turned the lock back to its place, the sound a distinct echo in the room.

Everything went completely still. The air charged with an electric sense of excitement and nervousness, the type of charge that lead to anticipation. Spencer could feel the erratic pace of his heart as a surge of arousal rippled through his blood. It was definitely not a feeling he was used to, but it was very powerful and overwhelming in its intensity as he swiftly grabbed her arm.

Y/n let out an inaudible gasp when he turned her around, not because of the way her legs were stumbling by the impulsive contact, but by the sudden grip of his hand on her waist, steadying her momentarily in the midst of her trying to register what was happening.

"Spencer," his name a sigh from her lip. A hot spike raced through her body as if she had been struck by some force. Y/n took a shuddering breath, already knowing she would be helpless against the tingling wave he was building within her.

"What happened to your confidence?" He whispered with a coy smile.

She was growing dizzy, overwhelmed with the feeling of him everywhere, with how clear his intentions had become and how much she welcomed them. "I guess you've rendered me speechless."

And then his large hand cupped her whole face, tilting her up. His fingertips felt electric, for wherever they touched her skin tingled in a frenzy of static. She was mesmerized, captured by the spell he had on her.

There was a warm gust of air over her nose as he breathed out, "Are you sure?" His nose gently brushed against hers. "I'll stop if you tell me to."

Her fluttering eyes shot up at him. "Don't you fucking dare."

A satisfied smile curled on his lips as she waited for the moment to come, to explore every inch of his mouth. He finally pressed his parted lips on hers—and true to her imagination, his kiss was divine.

His lips felt soft and her mind went hazy when he started to move them. The push and pull of lips were exhilarating, the lazy mapping of their mouths molding together ascended the desire inside her. She exhaled a moan the moment he nibbled her bottom lip with a gentle brush of his tongue, her body burning with a new sense of need.

He gripped the base of her neck, keeping her locked to his mouth in their exchange of breaths, their tongues grazing, dancing, colliding with one another. And between her breathless moan of pleasure, he was making his own delightful noises, the various groans and growls coming from deep within his chest only made her beg for more.

Spencer slowly pulled away, eyes slamming shut as his forehead met hers, gasping for the much-needed air. "You," he growled under his ragged breath. "Taste better than I imagined."

Her head was spinning. How could he consume her so much? They were practically pressed against each other like hot glue yet she wondered whether there was any possible way to crawl under his skin. It wasn't enough, she craved more. More than his kiss. More than his tongue—she wanted more of him.

Y/n slightly pulled away, her hands skimming along his arms before they grasped onto the bottom hem of her dress, and without warning, she managed to pull the piece of clothing over her head with one swift motion.

Spencer stood there, utterly impressed and furthermore aroused. His eyes raked over her half-naked body with absolute adoration. "I see you've gained your confidence back."

She threw her dress to the floor. "Most of it anyway."

There was nothing more bewitching than her half-naked form, yet he wanted more of her, he needed to have her fully undressed in his arms. Spencer carefully grabbed her hand and guided her further into the room. He slowly dropped himself on the edge of his bed and parted his legs, gently slipping her between them.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his hands gliding along her skin. "Gorgeous, just absolutely gorgeous."

Her hands skimmed along his shoulders before she ran them through his tousled hair as she stood between the firmness of his legs, enjoying the pure admiration in his eyes. There was something mesmerizing in those hazel orbs, tantalizing her self-confidence as her fingers moved over to the front of her bra, unhooking the clasp before it slipped over her shoulders so effortlessly.

When she was finally free from the confinement of her undergarment, Spencer let out a satisfied sigh, because right in front of him were the most perfect breasts he could ever possibly imagine. His hand danced across her skin, feeling her body tremble underneath his palm as he let a thumb graze over her already hard nipple. The moan she let out was unbelievably exotic and there was nothing else he wanted to do than to hear more of it.

So he let his finger trail down her stomach before he grabbed the edges of her underwear and finally, but oh so slowly, pulled them down her smooth legs. Once they were off, he leisurely observed her nudity, his eyes sweeping over her wet flesh, flushed and swollen, the warmth radiating from her core made every part of him swell. He slowly guided a hand up her leg.

"Spencer," she breathed, clutching onto him even tighter. "Please."

His fingers brushed her inner thigh, so close to where she burned but not close enough for her to feel the satisfaction she desired. "Please what?"

She whimpered desperately. "Touch me."

"And where do you want me to touch you?"

"Everywhere."

What was a man to do when he was asked with such urgency? Such fervor? Spencer looked up at her and smiled, placing a gentle kiss between her breast before motioning her toward the bed. "Lay on your back."

She did as she was told and when she was finally on her back with him pressed to her side, Y/n shuddered at the touch of fabric from his clothes. There was something vulnerable about being the only one naked, yet somehow the roughness grazing her skin merely intensified her arousal.

She inhaled a sharp breath as she was met with a pair of hooded eyes looking down at her with undeniable lust. She felt electricity in her body, hormones shutting down her higher brain, and from there on in it was all passion, intense, intoxicating. He leaned forward, a hand unhesitatingly pushing her locks out of the way to expose her slender neck. His rapid breathing sent shivers down her spine, his lips almost brushing her ear as she closed her eyes.

Spencer trailed small kisses along her jawline, down to her throat, and pressed another kiss on the spot below her ear. She let out a satisfied moan as he sucked the spot leisurely, feeling herself shudder at his touch, sending her into another trance of delight.

She writhed at the electrifying touch of his fingertips and the thread of control that seemed to remain in him snapped as he lunged at her, pressing into her mouth. She gasped at the force and like the man he grew to be, he took that opportunity to slip his tongue, tasting every corner of her mouth. Her taste overwhelmed his senses as he devoured her, hands sliding in her hair, tugging at her, twisting and moving her to his liking.

Her scent was filling his nostrils, her delicate fragrance intoxicating his brain, pulling him even deeper into the spell she was casting on him. His smile was wicked against her lips as his hand engulfed her breast, feeling her shiver underneath him, her breath becoming rapid as she felt his thumb stroking her nipple.

Her aroused nub tightened at his touch, screaming, begging for his utmost attention. He gladly obliged her desire, his mouth trailing down her collarbone, letting his tongue brush along the curve of her breast before his lips hovered above her swollen peak, ravishing it into his mouth.

She arched her back, a moan escaping her lips as the sensation shot through her body, a thrill of arousal pooling in the heat of her core. He pulled away for a moment before ravishing her other peak, gently tugging it with his teeth before sinking in her flesh with the heat of his mouth.

"Beautiful," he murmured to no one but himself as his eyes took in the sight of her naked chest. His tongue flickered out teasingly on her hardening nub before he looked straight into her eyes. "You're so beautiful."

Then his finger continued its teasing brush, gliding along her skin as she writhed uncontrollably, waiting for him to touch the place she desired the most. It was torture. Evil, wicked torture as he leisurely took his time into taunting her that she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Spencer..."

He smiled amusedly, feigning innocence. "What?"

Y/n was never one to beg. Her job taught her to stand her ground and to be resilient whenever she had to face any type of obstacle. But right now, as his touch burned her skin in ways she never thought possible, she really didn't care.

"Baby, please..."

The unexpected term of endearment sent a sensational thrill along his body before a satisfied grin stretched across his lips. "Now how can I say no to that?"

This time when his hand slipped lower, she slowly suck in an anticipatory breath through her teeth that she held until his fingers swiped achingly light over her slit. She let out an audible gasp when she felt the pressure of his fingers over her, teasing her ever so slightly as her eyes rolled at the back of her head. He ran his fingers between her folds, making her flinch at the sensitivity and without warning, without mercy, they plunge into her.

A heavy tide of delight hit her, tension snapping inside. Strong waves emanate from her core, ecstasy racing through every inch of her body as his fingers swelled inside her wetness, moving at a rapid yet lazy pace. Her hips bucked against his fingers, following every movement they made as they stretched inside her, building the most sensational feeling throughout her body.

She closed her eyes, ready to simply enjoy the thrilling pleasure he was bringing to her when he suddenly pulled his fingers out and she whimpered at the loss. He dragged his tongue along his lips before lying on his back, pulling her along with me. "Come here."

She followed him, her legs on either of his side when he motioned her to move forward. "No," he hissed. There was a sudden shyness in his demeanor but his eyes reflected an immense amount of determination. "Sit on my face."

She gaped at him.

Never in a million years did she ever imagine those words to come out from his lips. If anyone told her that Spencer Reid, a certified genius with an IQ of 187, would ask her to sit on his face, she would've laughed. Yet here she was, crawling over him as he proved to her how lewd he could actually be.

Y/n felt the heat creeping along her cheeks as she settled on top of him, but his reassuring smile threw away any doubt she had in mind. He softly kissed her inner thigh before she lowered herself. She gripped the bed frame in front of her while his tongue flickered between her slit, and hooked his arms around her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her hot flesh like a man starved.

Oh, fuck.

She must have said that out loud as she felt the vibration of his laughter on her skin. She faintly looked down at him and found his eyes boring into hers, watching her intently as he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked hungrily. The view was making her dizzy. The way his eyes bore into her own as his tongue wrapped around her wetness made her grind her hips, seeking more of the fraction.

He gave a long, languorous stroke with the flat of his tongue and sucked her into his mouth, tugging ever so slightly she could feel the pull in her throbbing clit. Then he spread his mouth wide over that sensitive nub and sucked even harder, a sudden stabbing sensation making her cry in pleasure. Her whimpers and moans grew louder as the coil in her stomach tightened, his tongue moving faster while he felt her clenching around his mouth.

Y/n could hear how wet she was as he worked her sex relentlessly. The cadence of his tongue was making her delirious. The warm, delicious tingle radiating from his touch was flooding over her that she knew she was approaching the end. His growl rumbled against her wetness as she spasmed, her face a mess of sweat and tears as he lapped up her folds, his tongue sliding into her and pressing on the walls.

And then she shattered—breathlessly, tiredly, heavenly. Her toes curled as she screamed out his name, releasing her grip on the bed frame before burying them in his tousled hair; pulling, grabbing, then throwing herself back as the intensity of the feeling rushed in her blood. She let out a sob as he eased her through her orgasm, rubbing her thighs while they shook around his head.

Her mind went completely blank a few minutes later. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t speak. She merely notice her body shaking with satisfaction as he carefully helped her down, settling her naked body on top of his. The gentle sound of his breathing filled her ears as she felt soothing hands running over her.

They stayed like that, drenched in her sweat with her head on his chest and her legs draped over him. Then after a moment of relishing each other's presence, his deep voice cut through the silence. "You're amazing."

She finally had the will to lift her head up and laughed. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

The indicated compliment made him smile. Silence engulfed them and at that moment it seemed as if there were a lot of things to be said, but somehow neither wanted to initiate the conversation. He pulled her closer and she leaned in his embrace—then his phone rang suddenly before she could even relax.

She groaned. "How much do you want to bet that that's Garcia?"

"Or Hotch." Spencer's hand glided down her back. "We should probably see what they want."

"We should."

But they didn't move and his phone suddenly stopped its chime. Their peace was once again interrupted by another call that came from her phone this time. Y/n let out a sigh. "We should really go."

He nodded, but before she peeled herself off, her eyes cautiously narrowed on him. She could practically feel the blood and adrenaline pumping and coursing through her vein as a rush of hesitation enveloped her. "Can we... finish this later?"

But then her heart brimmed with affection at how his smile lit up, a wide, radiant grin that pierced her skin and traveled straight to her soul. And there he was, underneath the mature lines swept across his handsome face was the adorable man her heart had always ached for.

"Oh, absolutely," he spoke, his fingers trailing over her naked flesh. "We'll definitely finish this later."

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mikareo · 8 months

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⌗ RATIONALISM ₊ ˖ ་. rin itoshi x fem reader (6.6k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ for as long as he can remember, rin's world has been in black and white - giving him no reason to appreciate his mother’s profession as an artist and the beauties that art can provide. however, an accidental meeting with you gives him reason to doubt his former beliefs - proving to him that there may be true beauty in a world that’s void of everything bright, that beauty being the sunshine that you provide.

contains; colorblind!rin, painter!reader, rin's mom is reader’s art mentor, rin hates art, strangers to friends to lovers, major crushing from both sides, slow burn but also not slow burn (like a nice simmering burn), swearing, fluff, reader acts like she’s on an adrenaline rush 24/7, jealousy, angst, explosive arguments, lowkey toxic, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness!!, rin sucks at flirting (very canon of him...) author's note; there'll be a part two titled "romanticism" eventually. idk when tho asjkl (i’m a slow writer XD)

Whenever the sun meets its peak at the high dawning point in the sky is when Rin knows it's a perfectly acceptable time to visit his oh-so-beloved mother. If he could, he would spend every waking moment with her - he’s a momma’s boy through and through - not only because she birthed him and taught him everything he knows, but because she’s kind and good. She’s also one of - scratch that - she’s the only person he can stand to be around for more than twenty four hours - and he takes great pride in having such a wonderful woman in his life.

However, despite how dearly he holds his mother to his heart, the issue with visiting her at this time of day is that she’s in her art studio. A place he loathes more than having to wear wet socks with sneakers. While it’s a beautiful space, with high wooden beams and floor to ceiling windows, he finds himself nauseous at the mere sight of the countless tubes of oil and acrylic paints. It’s not that the smell or colors are distasteful, it’s the fact that no matter how hard he squints and struggles, he cannot fathom what the simple color red looks like.

Complete black and white color blindness isn’t a life threatening condition in the slightest, but for Rin, it feels as if he’s being stabbed through the sternum at any notion of the changing leaves or colorful streaks of light across the sun-setting sky.

He doesn’t hate his mother for being an artist, he simply hates the art itself.

And he especially hates pieces of art like the one sitting before him, now. With the blobs of squares and triangles against the supposedly white canvas, sitting perky on the easel as if to mock him - he decides to reach his hand out - and remind himself how emotionally detached acrylic paints make him feel. It’s wet, he observes, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together to mix the possibly different hues. Rin hopes he didn’t ruin the artist’s painting in any way, he wouldn’t know if he’d accidentally smeared shading or contrasting primaries - but surely the artist could fix it in a jiffy.

“Do you like it?”

Well, that certainly isn’t his mother’s voice.

“I tried using cooler tones in the corner here, and then migrated towards warmth in the lower portion.” You’re beside him now, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his position, and completely ignoring his personal space - all while he’s never met you before this day. Your finger is extended, pointing towards the artistic decisions you’re elaborating on that, in all honesty, he doesn’t give two shits about. “I’m thinking about sketching some paper cranes on top of it all, I want it to represent the change of seasons.”

“What do you think?”

You’re staring at him now, bright eyes shining with curiosity. Rin is at a loss for words, mostly due to your unannounced appearance in the studio, but also because you’re possibly the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on - which is shocking, considering the sight of thick paint smudged against a person’s face typically sends him running the opposite direction. He’s never felt an immediate connection to the women of his past - however you, a strange girl who resembles a dog waiting for its treat, has his heart beating at twice the rate.

“I like this shape.” Rin purses his lips into a straight line, never having felt so awkward in his whole life. “This square is nice, too.”

You look utterly unimpressed with his evaluation. Your nose is scrunched in distaste and the fold beneath your right eye seems to be twitching in disapproval for your own artwork. “That’s all that you like?” You step ever so slightly closer to him, chin tilted up to meet his gaze, before retreating quickly and coddling your painting. “Perhaps I overestimated my color palette. I really thought it would be the outstanding moment of this piece, but I guess I could rework it if the shapes are all that matter—”

“Did you touch my painting?”

Oh boy, he’s in for it now.

A nervous laugh leaves his mouth, embarrassing him further as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck in an attempt to look casual, only for you to grab his wrist out of thin air. “Oh my god, you did!” Your mouth is agape, inspecting his tattered skin in shock - yet somehow he knows that you aren’t truly upset with him - you don't seem like that kind of person. “Did you not realize that you’ve got scarlet red all over your palms?”

Rin’s mind is blank, his ability to form coherent sentences is gone, and he can only muster up the cheesiest, most terribly dreadful joke that he’s said in the twenty three years he’s been alive.

“I guess you caught me red handed?”

There’s a moment of silence, with the two of you displaying the most aloof expressions either of you have ever made, until your face lights up with laughter. He doesn’t understand what could possibly be so funny - his joke was awful - but the sound of your contagious fits of giggles make his heart feel a little bit warmer in a place that he commonly feels suffocated in. For the first time, the studio gives him a sense of comfort rather than distress - and he knows it's because he’s developing a very clear crush on the pretty girl beside him.

You’re hysterical, resembling that of insanity while Rin is simply stuck in time. He can’t tell if he should be steadying you before you trip over your own feet or if he should simply take his leave and forget this day ever happened.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he begins, watching you wipe a tear of laughter from the crinkle of your right eye, “but why are you here? Do you have an appointment, because I could’ve sworn there weren’t any other people that were allowed in the studio at this hour—”

“Oh, I do know you!” The volume of your voice just seems to get louder and louder. “You must be Miss Itoshi's son! She always mentions how lovely her little boy is, I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you! Though, I expected you to be like six or seven, not my age. She should’ve mentioned that you were handsome, not cute - she really chose every adjective other than the ones that wouldn’t make you sound like a primary schooler.”

Does she ever stop talking? Rin doesn’t think he’s ever heard another person ramble on-and-on like you do. Normally he’d have ended the conversation by now, walked away without a second thought of whether he acted rude or not, but he knows that his mother would strangle him if he was to blatantly disregard her current favorite student. The student that she loves telling him stories about at the dinner table every Sunday night as he’s just trying to eat his fingerling potatoes in peace.

The same student who he’s somehow enjoying talking to - though it’s mostly just you talking to his blank face - and is causing a soft yellow blush to form on his cheeks. He doesn’t actually know if yellow is the color related to blushing, but he thinks he’s read it somewhere before.

“Anyways, to answer your question—”

Rin feels like he’d asked you hours ago.

“—I’d walked all the way to the train station and realized I’d forgotten my wallet here - which is strange because normally I never forget anything. I’m a very organized person—”

Yeah, he doesn’t believe that.

“—and then I had to run all the way back here—”

Your shoes are scuffed. You definitely tripped on the way.

“—where I accidentally ran into a stroller…poor baby—”

Yep. Tripped.

“—which led me to you!”

You’re smiling now and Rin doesn’t think he’s seen so many teeth shining at him in all of his life. God, do you ever run out of energy? No matter, he knows exactly where your missing item is. The anonymous wallet had been the first thing his eyes had grazed over when striding towards your artwork - good thing it’s only an arm’s reach away.

He snatches the wallet from the art easel and is pleasantly surprised by the quality of the possibly monochromatic leather. The clasp is simple, requiring just one twist before the contents of your identity are laid out before him. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Rin recites the name written on your license and holds the items out to you, to which you reach out, eager to reunite with your belongings. However, at the last second he waves it in the air - away from your dying fingertips - and clicks his tongue two times. “Try not to lose it again. It’s a luxury brand, isn’t it? I like the black color.”

“Black?” Shit. The tilt of confusion your head makes indicates that your wallet is not, in fact, black. “I’m either stupid or color blind, but this is red.”

Before Rin can respond, he’s saved by the bell. Well, technically his savior isn’t an actual bell, but you get the gist. “Miss Itoshi!” Thank god she’s finally here to distract you. He’s been fighting to maintain his pride throughout your entire interaction. “I made an extra trip to the studio and ran into your son, here! You weren’t lying when you said he’s a little quiet - honestly, I feel like I’ve been talking to myself this whole time.”

You quite literally have been doing that very thing for the past ten minutes.

“Oh, Rin! Have you been acting rude?” His mother’s expression is tense, stricter than the time he ‘accidentally’ took her (grey?) Kia Soul on a joyride that one weekend he and Sae decided to go on a midnight run to the department store. “Please don’t mind him at all, dear. You see, he doesn’t exactly get out much - his social skills might be a little underdeveloped.”

She can’t actually be saying this right now. This is exactly why he hasn’t had a girlfriend in months - his mother embarrasses him in front of every pretty girl they come across in the first two minutes of saying ‘hello’. It isn’t that Rin is a terrible flirt - which he is, but he likes to deny it - it’s that he loves his mother so much that he can’t bear to tell her that her attempts at ‘hooking him up’ are always bound to fail.

However, you don’t appear to be phased by her words. If anything, you’re actually pleased by the sound of him being socially impaired.

“That’s actually perfect!”

What.

The.

Fuck?

“He can be my portrait model!” You’re still talking. Please, for the love of God, stop talking. “You know how I’ve been trying to become better skilled in the emotional aspect of my paintings, he could definitely help me out by showing anxiety and embarrassment - and you’ve been telling me it’s about time that I found myself a model.”

The endless trail of words that continue to string from your mouth seem to reach their end. Rather than speaking in spitfire, you’re now crazily staring at Rin, himself. Both of your fists are clenched together in a pleading hold and he doesn’t think that you’ve blinked since the start of your conversational rampage - but despite the absurdity of your proclamation, he believes you have good intentions. There really is no reason to deny the request - after all, he’d be helping out his mother in the process, she does love having successful students - but he just can’t imagine himself spending any more time in the dreadfully grey studio than he already does.

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea, ______.” His mother catches your words before he has a chance to give you his own oral letter of rejection. “Rin’s never been one for art.”

“Oh.”

All you have to say is ‘oh’?

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you continue. The expression on your face is suddenly stern. Has he offended you in some way by saying no? “I’ll figure something else out, Miss Itoshi. I apologize if I overstepped.”

You’re bowing your head before him now, and Rin is shell shocked. His first impression of you was undoubtedly a dud, considering how you actually do seem to have a rational bone in your body despite the hyperactivity you displayed just moments before. While he’s mustering up a response, you lift your eyes - lashes fluttering like upwards brush strokes on a canvas - and send a small smile his way. It’s as if you’re silently apologizing to him for the undivided attention you tormented him with, but he doesn’t want you to apologize.

He just doesn’t know how to say that he actually liked your personality.

God, he’s so bad at flirting.

“Thanks for finding my wallet, though.” Your fingers are suddenly touching his, momentarily grazing against his skin as you pluck your wallet from his hands. There’s no chance that you haven’t noticed the rising heat that’s currently warming the blossoms of his cheeks, and he hopes that you find it endearing. While he isn’t great with words, he likes to think that he may be at least a little bit cute. His mother always calls him a ‘cutie’ - which he appreciates, but it’s also so degrading for someone of his age. “Maybe I’ll be forgetful more often, now.”

He hopes you’ll start being more forgetful, too.

You’ve left your entire bag this time.

He can’t tell if you’re trying to be subtle and coy with the budding feelings that’re growing between the two of you, and you’re just as awful at flirting as he is - or if you’ve just given up on leaving small signs of attraction. Honestly, in the past few weeks of you leaving paintbrushes and lanyards in the studio, he’d assumed it was all naturally an accident. This, though? How do you expect him to believe that you left your entire satchel in the studio? Sure, you can be a little dense, but not that dense.

It’s obvious that you’ve begun to lose track of your belongings for the simple reason that you enjoy partaking in the awkward exchange of items when you ‘hastily’ return to the empty renovated greenhouse and get to act surprised to see him standing there with his arms full of things with your name written all over them. In fact, this instance has happened so often that Rin is beginning to believe that he actually enjoys it, too.

Sometimes he thinks that maybe you should just write your name on him to speed up this dreadful ‘will they, won’t they’ process that you’ve been pacing together.

He likes you. He really really likes you, and you both know it.

You’d picked up on his feelings from the second time you met - when he willingly stayed behind in the studio for an extra two hours just to hear you ramble about the difference between heavy and soft body acrylic paints. There was something about the way you grinned at him. How your chin would angle upwards to his height in order to have a proper conversation. How you weren’t afraid to say anything and everything that was on your sporadic mind. How your eyes would sparkle at the dedicated eye contact he was making - letting you know that he was hanging on to every word that left your lips (which he just recently found out are pink - and boy does he wish to know what that undoubtedly lovely color looks like against your skin).

He hates to compare you to a painting - which he still finds a positively dreadful blob of nothingness - but to him, you are one. You’re a captivating piece of art hanging on the walls of the nationally acclaimed museum in his mind.

A captivating piece of art whose art of subtlety is extremely lacking, considering that your phone number is quite literally painted on the largest white canvas your easel can hold, in bold lettering that he would have to be visually blind to miss, plastered behind the hiding place of your bag.

‘P.S. It's written in red paint. I know you have a thing for red.”

As much as he likes you, you can be such a pain in his ass. The bane of his existence, if you will.

It pains him to notice how he hadn’t thought twice about typing the digits into his text bar, smiling to himself at the sight of your make-shift contact with the horrid selfie you’d taken on his phone to be your future contact picture. Your hair is an utter mess, with flecks of paint scattered across your hairline - which, to be honest, look like dandruff to him with their lack of vivid color, but he told you that they resemble snowflakes. He lied - but what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you.

Without hesitating, he types a singular ‘hey’ before backtracking. What if you don’t know that it’s him texting you? What if you think that it’s a random stranger who just so happened to be in the art studio and thought to add your contact information to their phone? He better be more clear.

‘Hello, ______. You know me.’

Perfect.

In less than a split second, you respond. He can feel his nerves itching at the sight of the grey text bubble popping in and out of view. Ring can’t even remember the last time his heart beat so fast. Perhaps when he was standing in front of his secondary school health classroom and he accidentally mistook a photo of the urinary system with the ovaries during a speech about the female menstrual cycle? The stream of liquid projected against the white board was in fact not what he thought it was (how was he supposed to see the difference between red and yellow?), which turned into a horribly disgusting presentation that Sae still bothers him about to this day. That was dreadful - but this is definitely equally as dreadful, if not more.

‘Stalker much?’ Huh? ‘Hi though, Rin. That text was very…you.’

‘You added my number pretty quickly.’ Man, you text really fast. ‘You just couldn’t resist me, could you?’

He doesn’t know what to say back. It’s as if his mind has been scraped raw of all romantic material that one would usually use in this situation - the situation in which an unbelievably pretty girl is talking to him through a phone screen. Rin is completely frozen in place, time, and thought. The only part of him that isn’t paralyzed is the hole in his chest that is beginning to be thawed by you. His frozen heart of past relationships has found its fire - and oh does it burn for you.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Where the fuck did you come from?

Swiveling on his heel, he turns to face your approaching figure. Your footsteps are lighter than air, likely being the reason as to how you managed to stealthily sneak in so quietly while he had been distracted with his phone. The light denim jeans that cover you from waist to ankles are perhaps his favorite pair you own. You’ve painted on them over time, sketching out a garden of patterns that don’t require color to appreciate. Your artistic ability is uncanny - he can’t deny the fact that you’re incredibly skilled - and he believes that you should be given an award for making ‘art’s number one hater’ a growing fan.

“You left your bag.” No shit, Captain Obvious. “Do you want it back?”

He’s so bad at this.

You skip towards him, your left foot following your right in a rhythm of peppiness, and lean up towards him with a shine in your eyes. God, you look so pretty. Sure, seeing you from a comfortable distance with an easel separating your bodies was nice and all, but when you pull stunts like this - with no room for him to scurry off and run - he actually takes the time to digest your features in their true beauty. You’re the artist, yet he seems to be the one who’s always studying you.

“Do you have any plans for today?” You ask in a curious tone. Your hands are held together behind your back as you send him a beaming grin with an upturned lip. “—because I was thinking about grabbing some tea, and it would be so unfortunate if I had to go all alone and sit by myself with all of those strangers around me. Who knows what could happen? If only there were someone who could protect me in case a sleazy guy asks for my number…”

Are you trying to manipulate him, right now?

“I’ve got nothing to do today.”

—because he’ll gladly let you do so.

The peaks of your eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting him to accept the offer so quickly. Over the short time you’ve known one another, you’ve noticed that Rin’s reluctance to spend one-on-one time with you has dwindled. He’s slowly becoming more comfortable in your presence and whatever inner turmoil that he’s facing is fading into the tide of your raging tsunami. There’s a peaceful gaze behind his brown eyes, now. One that you love to study whenever he isn’t looking your way (which isn’t often).

“Then it’s a date!” Surging forwards, you take his arm in yours and link yourselves together. He’s initially shocked by the immediate physical connection you’ve managed to make within mere seconds, but he thinks that he likes it. It’s been so long since he’s even held hands with a girl, so he’s understandably tense, but you’re giving him time to adjust. After all, scaring him away would be your last intention. “I’ll even pay for your drink, since you were kind enough to find my lost satchel.”

“Yeah, your lost satchel was so hard to find.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He smiles to himself.

Yes, you do.

He isn’t sure how, but he’s somehow burned his tongue again.

“Shit!” Rin hurriedly places his mug down onto the circular wooden table that separates the two of you, while attempting to be gentle since he doesn’t want to waste the perfectly tasty coffee that you paid for. He groans, dabbing the corners of his lips with one of the complimentary paper napkins. “Why does it get me every time?”

This is perhaps the third week in a row that you and him have ditched the studio and decided to claim the neighboring cafe as your designated date spot - though you’re still an unofficially exclusive couple. Unofficial as in Rin hasn’t found the nerves to ask you to be his girlfriend, and exclusive as in neither of you are nor want to see other people. It’s a confusing situation for both parties to be in, but he just can’t seem to take that next step with you no matter how hard he tries to push himself towards the ideal solution.

Rin is a rationalist. He takes in the information given to him through interactions and associations, working through it with logistics on his mind, and tries to find the best outcome. It’s how he’s lived every hour and every day of his adulthood, and he’s fairly set in stone with his mannerisms at this point. He always known who he is, what he wants, and how to obtain those things. What he didn’t know, though, was that an unpredictable variable (you) would crash into his life and disarray the routine that he’d been building for twenty-three years.

The hypothesis born of the situation isn’t a difficult one to solve, after all he’s had it written down for a month: if Rin finds the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, then you’ll likely say yes and the two of you will live happily ever after. Easy, right?

Wrong. He’s a chicken.

“Here. This might help you cool down.”

Your arm is extended, offering him your drink of the day without hesitation. Every time you come here, arm-in-arm, you order something different. ‘There’s no fun without surprise’, is what you tell him after the consistent strange glances he sends your way when you’re ordering, and he can’t help but disagree. You’re very different individuals - and that difference is extremely apparent with the light, mint garnished tea in your glass compared to the dark roast coffee in his.

“Thanks, ______, you’re a lifesaver.” He sighs in relief as the cool liquid flows down his throat in an internal waterfall. “Holy shit, this is actually so good.”

You laugh, “I would hope so. I only got it because of the photo on the menu. It’s like a rainbow of color.”

And there it is. The thing that isolates him the most from your world.

As much as he likes you, which is more than he can explain, he can’t help but have that itching thought at the back of his mind that you’ll never truly be able to connect with one another. You bask in the beauty of the world around you. From the apparent golden sun showers and bouquets of stark red roses - two things that you’ve described to him in great detail amidst your walks through the farmer’s market on Saturday mornings - to the countless brush strokes against the white canvas at his mother’s studio, you adore a world in color.

It’s a viewpoint that’s shaped who you are, from infantry to your current age of twenty-two, and it’s something that you’ll never be able to let go of.

To be quite frank, it scares him. It keeps him up at night knowing that seeing the world through your eyes is impossible. That it’s a far off dream that is unobtainable, taunting him in his mind and heart like a bone dangling in front of a dog’s face. He wishes that he could admire the blue streaked skies and emerald green ferns that line the streets of the city. He yearns to feel overcome with pride at the sight of your watercolor drafts - which you attempt to show him after every class session to no avail - and congratulate you on the progress you’re making. There are so many things that he dreams of doing with you, dreams that exist solely in your world, as they’ll never be possible in his.

He hasn’t officially asked you to be his yet, because how could he?

How could he bind you to him? You’d be miserable looking through his eyes - having to see only hues of black, white, and grey, similar to the pencil sketches that you’ve openly shown your hatred for in front of him. ‘There’s just nothing there,’ is what you mumble to yourself. ‘No life, no anything without color.’ To which you then drop a single ounce of paint against the seemingly dreadful piece of art - and the sparkle in your eyes as it comes to life is something that he loves to see but can’t understand…

…as you see the world in a way that he can never understand.

Rin doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to tell you about his condition. It would end everything all at once, and he isn’t sure how he would recover from that kind of heartbreak. You’re so blissfully unaware of how much conflict runs through his veins on a daily basis. Hell, you don’t even notice how he orders a singular black coffee every time you approach the counter together. You don’t see how he struggles to agree with you as you admire the assortment of blended beverages with a forced smile on his face. You don’t understand why he chooses to indulge in such a bitter drink and make sure to comment on it every single time.

He can’t blame you, though - it really is disgusting - but he also can’t tell you that he orders his coffee black since it’s a universal drink that appears the same to everyone who sees it. At least when he’s holding the steaming mug between his large palms, he knows that it appears to you as it does to him. That the divide that’s ripping a ravine through your connected hands is lessened in a sense - and you’re truly viewing one thing as the same.

Which is why he sits pretty and appreciates the short time that you do spend together, and suffers through piping hot coffee three times a week with no interruptions.

“I think I’ve made some progress on my portfolio.”

Your drink has been returned to your hands now. The small, clear glass is ringing as you tap the sides with your fingernails. It’s somewhat soothing, the rhythm following the tune of one of your favorite songs that Rin happens to know very well after walking in on you in the middle of ‘art therapy’, in which you blast the music at full volume and deafen all other sounds. You have a tendency to be impatient - art being the only thing that can really pin you down for a long period of time - yet you’ve made room in your heart for Rin despite this.

“Really?” Rin dabs his mouth carefully, being ever the proper suitor in your presence. “My mom hasn’t given you any recent critiques?”

“No, she has.” As your words continue, you take a long sip of your tea. He can feel his cheeks flush while you swallow. He loves anything you do. “Just little comments about negative space and color theory, but I’m getting there.”

“Nice.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Yeah, nice.”

Despite his seemingly rude reaction, you’re still gazing at him with a smile on your face. It isn’t an exceedingly joyful smile or one of excitement, but something of contentedness. You’ve become comfortable around him - shedded the hyperactive layers of skin that you display to onlooking strangers - and have begun to share the side of yourself that only your bedroom walls know. Seeing this side of you has made him fall even harder. Knowing that someone so confident, so bold, is just like him - caring so much about first impressions and likeability - and has their own insecurities is validating. Validating in the sense that you find him special enough to throw away the filter and be your true self in his presence.

“You know,” you begin in a wistful tone, “you aren’t a man of many words, Rin - and if I’m being totally honest, my patience is running out.”

He hopes this isn’t going where he thinks it is.

He’s not letting you ask him out before he can—

“What am I to you?”

Oh.

Your eyes are giving him an expectant look, now.

What the hell is he supposed to say to that?

This is the quietest you’ve ever been, you aren’t even swirling the star-shaped ice cubes in your strawberry lemon tea.

Why can’t he think of anything to say?

His silence is causing you to furrow your eyebrows in concern.

This is so embarrassing. Just say something. Anything.

“You’re my mom’s student.”

Anything but that.

“I’m…” the words at the tip of your tongue seem to dissolve like damp sugar cubes, “I’m your mom’s student.”

Your sentence is more of a statement than a question. It’s as if there’s a machine in your brain, working through his given answer and comparing all of the other possibilities he could’ve said. There were endless responses to your inquiry, and he somehow managed to pick the worst one.

He needs to fix this. How can he fix this?

“You’re not just a student, though.” His words are tumbling over one another in somersaults and you seem to perk up at his continuity. The hope in your heart grows a little bit larger, pulsating and yearning for him to say exactly what you’d been wanting for weeks-on-weeks. “You’re my mom’s special student.”

Oh God, he made it worse.

“What?” Rin tries to reach for your hand in an attempt to compensate for his actions through physical touch, but you retaliate and instinctively jerk away. You quickly stand, drink in hand, and back away from him as he follows like a lost puppy. Your head is shaking from right to left, disbelief exerting from the pores of your skin like poison - sentencing him with death while it seeps through his gaping mouth and empty palms. “I’m a special student?”

How the hell are you so fast?

Within seconds the two of you are at odds outside of the building. The weather is somewhat chilly - springtime having just come around with the cherry blossoms in full bloom - and it’s probably a beautiful day with the petals raining down on the pavement. You’d usually make a comment about how wonderful the horticulture was outside of the shop, but now you’re stomping over every fallen flower and budding stem that lies in the way of your rage-filled path. He’d always thought of you as a gentle soul, but apparently even gentle souls have their breaking points - and he never dreamed that he’d be yours.

“If I’m so special, what makes me different from the girl before me and the one before her?” This is the first time you’ve ever raised your voice at him. “Did you take all of them out for drinks? Did they all get to spend one-on-one time with their mentor’s ‘handsome’ son? Did you lead all of them on, too? Rin, what kind of answer is that?”

You’ve found yourselves in an alcove now - about a block from the cafe in a small garden nestled between two buildings. The blossoming trees continue to surround you from all sides, perfectly framing the tragic picture of him saying anything and everything you absolutely do not want to hear. A large sigh leaves your lips, heaving from your chest as if he’s popped a balloon and is pushing all of the air out with the strength of his smooth hands.

“That’s not what I meant!” He pauses as you halt in place, slowly turning to face him like you're something out of a horror movie - a monster who’s ready to murder their prey. A gulp runs down his Adam’s apple. You’re terrifying when upset. “Please, just let me explain!”

“Explain what?” Rin flinches at your volume. “If you want to explain yourself so badly then tell me why the hell would you say something like that?”

“Sure, you aren’t the best with banter or having a crush - but dear God, you cannot possibly be that dense.” This is getting bad. “I’ve left hundreds of hints! Every single goddamn day - and you’ve picked up on all of them! You know, I thought that when you’d hold my hand or kiss my cheek that you actually meant something by it. I figured ‘he spends so much time with me, he can’t possibly not like me’, but no. I’m just a student.”

Your face is fuming with every dreadful word that comes out of your mouth. “Oh, sorry. I’m a special student.”

If this were a scene in an animated film, your hair would be on fire now. Flames as high as mountain tops would be spiking in sharp peaks at every end of sentence and statement spitting from your mouth. Your normally warm irises would be drawn as ice cold, not leaving any room for life as they skate across his timid features - wishing for him to reach freezing level so you could smash him into a million pieces.

You’d always told him that red and blue - fire and ice - were two things that you admired most. With their ever changing states of matter and forceful power amidst the seasons, he found himself believing as you do. Rin actually learned to appreciate their vast palette as if he could see it with his own eyes - but now? Now he thinks that they’re the two worst things in the universe - as their destructive nature has decided that their target is him, and he has absolutely no defenses prepared.

“I should’ve caught on sooner, shouldn’t I have?” You’re still going, hot tears building up and threatening to stream down your cheeks. Never in his life has Rin been at the receiving end of such anger - and never in his life has he learned how to manage a situation as such. So, he does what any clueless man would do - he returns the anger.

“You’re not even listening to me!” His hands are violently moving while his words cut like knives. “You never listen to me!”

“I never listen to you?” He’s apparently hit another nerve. “Is that some kind of sick joke? Rin, all I do is listen to you! It may not look like it, but I see the way you tense whenever I talk about my passions and dreams. I notice the way your face drains when I’m asking you for your opinion on my works in progress. Sometimes it’s like I can physically hear your eyes rolling when they see me walk into the studio with my bag of brushes and materials. Yet, you think that I don’t listen? I take note of every single thing that you do when you’re around me, because I don’t want to miss out on a single moment with you, and you don’t even care!”

He can’t believe that you’re pinning this on him.

“How could you even say that?” Rin can’t tell who’s in the right or wrong anymore - all he knows is that if he doesn’t stop speaking, you’ll walk away forever. “I’ve never cared about anyone as much as you! I’ve done my best to entertain your interests and the absurd things you ask of me—”

“Well, your best hasn’t been enough.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Are you being serious, right now?”

Your eyes are stoney, rock solid with stubbornness as you refuse to accept his side of the story and he knows that you won’t be budging from the beliefs that you’re choosing to hold against him. Rin doesn’t know how everything went so wrong so fast, but he does know that he doesn’t have what it takes to save the situationship that he mistakenly put the two of you in.

“What the fuck did I do wrong that you resent me this much? Not even an hour ago all you wanted was to see me get down on one knee and profess my ‘undying’ love for you.” He’s so angry. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry. “Now I’m some asshole who doesn’t give a shit about your wellbeing? If everything I’ve done hasn’t been enough, then I might as well go fuck myself, right? I’m sorry I’m not perfect like you! I’m sorry I can’t see the world through crystal lenses like you! I’m sorry that I’m not good enough for you!”

His face feels wet. When did he start to cry? Was it ten minutes ago? Five? Just now? The hurricane of emotions that he’s putting himself through is more than he’s endured in years - his mental blockage of his condition finally coming to light as his heart runs off of the rails - and you’ve definitely seemed to notice considering the concern etched into your expression.

“I was never going to be perfect for you,” he begins with a softer tone. Perhaps his hot bundle of rage has subsided for a few moments. “I can’t be with you. I can’t understand how you see the world. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life listening to you ask me all of these questions and opinions on your work when I can’t even see it fully.”

You’re so close to him. Somewhere in the flurry of words, you took a step in his direction. “Rin, what’re you talking about?”

As he bites his bottom lip with the fear of judgment raging in his mind, his secret is set free.

“I’ve always liked this shirt on you,” he solemnly smiles, “This shade’s my favorite color that you wear.”

You look up at him, pulling at the fabric against your chest in confusion. “Red?”

“Grey.”

He’s laughing lightly, making up for the thoughtful silence that you’ve found yourself in. It’s like he can physically see the gears turning in your head as they attempt to make sense out of his statement. “It’s more of a rich grey - almost black - and it compliments your skin tone. You know, my mom used to tell me that the way to a woman’s heart is through compliments. I’ve always tried my best to do that, but it clearly hasn’t been working.”

His hands somehow find yours as he shares the inevitable truth he’d been hiding so hard - and with a deep gulp, his secret is finally exposed.

“After all, how could I ever reach someone’s heart without even knowing what color their eyes are?”

part two is ready!!!!! read romanticism here

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

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faerievampling · 3 months

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hey! i just found your blog and just read all your stuff,,,, i’m in LOVE. you’re such a good writer!!!

saw that your requests were open and please ignore if this doesn’t vibe with you, but could i please request astarion (ascended or otherwise it doesn’t matter to me) headcanons (or whatever format that’s easiest for you) with a F!reader whose really insecure about her looks and body and her sexual inexperience? like she puts on a really tough front for the world, but when it comes to physical touch and intimacy she’s really nervous.

i’m so sorry if this is way too specific or weird or whatever literally ignore this. thank you so much and i hope you have a wonderful week my love <3

Hi thank you so much. I love doing these and i love this idea and IVE GOT YOU. I hope you enjoy ❤️‍🔥 disclaimer this is kinda just my stream of consciousness and what happened happened lol

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

warning: 18+! Explicit.

When you first met Astarion, his devastating beauty and intense flirtations intimidated you.

He was so gorgeous, and you thought yourself incredibly average, certainly not good looking enough to reasonably catch the eye of someone as beautiful as Astarion.

Not to mention—Astarion was so experienced, and you were just the opposite. You had very few sexual experiences, maybe even none at all. It only added to your insecurities about your looks and body.

You hid these feelings well, so much so that Astarion seemed non-the-wiser. He thought maybe you were just cold to him; so he worked even harder to warm you up.

Earning your trust and thus your body became a goal of Astarion’s, and he lavished all his attentions on you.

It irritated you, only because you couldn’t tell if he was being genuine with you. It hurt to think that he was just playing with you.

When Astarion finally sleeps with you, it was something you had both been waiting on, both been yearning for. Because of your cool demeanor and general reserved disposition, it takes you a while to finally trust Astarion. Of course, you had desperately wanted him since you first met him, but you had self control.

Astarion is slow to explore your body, which only adds to your vulnerability. He focuses on your breasts, your hips, all the little erogenous zones you didn’t even realize you had: your ear, the crook of your neck, the back of your knees, the space just above your tail bone on your lower back, even your toes, which he would massage one by one, despite how much it tickled you.

He focuses on making you feel exceptionally good the first night you’re with him, almost like he has something to prove. He’s never had to work this hard to fuck someone before. Poor Astarion! Don’t worry, he will get you back by using your body to pleasure himself. After the first night, you’ll surely be his forever, anyways.

After he’s done exploring the outside of your body, he focuses inward, using his fingers and tongue to explore your entrances. Astarion wants to know all of you. He is definitely the type to want to use all of your available holes if you’re ready and willing lol.

He will want to know the parts of you that have been unexplored by other lovers. This may even be a big deal to him.

But you’re shy, and you try to close your knees, try to cover your breasts or your belly, hiding yourself from him. But Astarion is so genuine in his attraction to you, and his hard cock will speak for itself most of the time.

Whatever imperfection you may have, I imagine Astarion to worship it, and he might even help you learn to love this part of you.

If you’ve told him about your insecurity, he’s very careful to help you overcome it and feel adored.

If you keep your insecurity from him, which I would imagine an aloof and bull-headed Tav to do, he quickly finds out from your first time together. As soon as he pressed his lips to yours, he can sense your hesitation, your walls going up as his hands find your waist.

You quiver beneath him, maybe you even pull away; but Astarion only brings you closer, chiding you for shying away from him.

“You are so beautiful, love, why would you ever shy away from me?”

Whether your a virgin or simply inexperienced, Astarion is very careful with your body: he cares for you, he wants you, and he will use his experienced digits and tongue in you, likely making you come even quicker than he had intended.

He’s endeared by it, humored by it, not laughing at you, per se, but with you. Your innocence cute to him. It just made him want to ravish you further, to see how else your sensitive body responds to him.

I think all versions of Astarion would be into corrupting you and teaching you how to please him, and even yourself.

Since the two of you have come to know each other fully in both body and soul, Astarion would love teaching you how to make yourself feel good. I love the idea of Astarion teaching his darling in the ways of pleasure.

Imagine, years after being with Astarion, the two of you are so happy and known. You would have forgotten what you were so worried about in the first place, because your vampire reminds you just how beautiful and fair you are each and every day.

#astarion smut #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #faerievampling rambles #faerievampling asks answered

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txttletale · 5 months

Note

Your discussions on AI art have been really interesting and changed my mind on it quite a bit, so thank you for that! I don’t think I’m interested in using it, but I feel much less threatened by it in the same way. That being said, I was wondering, how you felt about AI generated creative writing: not, like AI writing in the context of garbage listicles or academic essays, but like, people who generate short stories and then submit them to contests. Do you think it’s the same sort of situation as AI art? Do you think there’s a difference in ChatGPT vs mid journey? Legitimate curiosity here! I don’t quite have an opinion on this in the same way, and I’ve seen v little from folks about creative writing in particular vs generated academic essays/articles

i think that ai generated writing is also indisputably writing but it is mostly really really fucking awful writing for the same reason that most ai art is not good art -- that the large training sets and low 'temperature' of commercially available/mass market models mean that anything produced will be the most generic version of itself. i also think that narrative writing is very very poorly suited to LLM generation because it generally requires very basic internal logic which LLMs are famously bad at (i imagine you'd have similar problems trying to create something visual like a comic that requires consistent character or location design rather than the singular images that AI art is mostly used for). i think it's going to be a very long time before we see anything good long-form from an LLM, especially because it's just not a priority for the people making them.

ultimately though i think you could absolutely do some really cool stuff with AI generated text if you had a tighter training set and let it get a bit wild with it. i've really enjoyed a lot of AI writing for being funny, especially when it was being done with tools like botnik that involve more human curation but still have the ability to completely blindside you with choices -- i unironically think the botnik collegehumour sketch is funnier than anything human-written on the channel. & i think that means it could reliably be used, with similar levels of curation, to make some stuff that feels alien, or unsettling, or etheral, or horrifying, because those are somewhat adjacent to the surreal humour i think it excels at. i could absolutely see it being used in workflows -- one of my friends told me recently, essentially, "if i'm stuck with writer's block, i ask chatgpt what should happen next, it gives me a horrible idea, and i immediately think 'that's shit, and i can do much better' and start writing again" -- which is both very funny but i think presents a great use case as a 'rubber duck'.

but yea i think that if there's anything good to be found in AI-written fiction or poetry it's not going to come from chatGPT specifically, it's going to come from some locally hosted GPT model trained on a curated set of influences -- and will have to either be kind of incoherent or heavily curated into coherence.

that said the submission of AI-written stories to short story mags & such fucking blows -- not because it's "not writing" but because it's just bad writing that's very very easy to produce (as in, 'just tell chatGPT 'write a short story'-easy) -- which ofc isn't bad in and of itself but means that the already existing phenomenon of people cynically submitting awful garbage to literary mags that doesn't even meet the submission guidelines has been magnified immensely and editors are finding it hard to keep up. i think part of believing that generative writing and art are legitimate mediums is also believing they are and should be treated as though they are separate mediums -- i don't think that there's no skill in these disciplines (like, if someone managed to make writing with chatGPT that wasnt unreadably bad, i would be very fucking impressed!) but they're deeply different skills to the traditional artforms and so imo should be in general judged, presented, published etc. separately.

#ask #ai art

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steddieunderdogfics · 3 months

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This week's writer spotlight feature is: @lexirosewrites! They have forty-four Stranger Things and forty-three Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!!

An anonymous nominator recommends the following works by lexirosewrites:

24-Hour Diner

On Thin Ice

And the Sun will Rise

Bandaids for the Heart

Waking Up In Vegas

A/B/O isn't for everyone, but Lexi writes it in a way that it IS. I've always been a fan of the trope, but Lexi writes A/B/O in a way that expands beyond the basics. They've expanded their universes to play with common A/B/O themes in ways I've never seen -- each one feels fresh and exciting. And yes, they're popular in their own right, but they have so many hidden gems!! I just adore them and the work they've done beyond the tropes and tags. They put so much work into their stories and building their community, pushing through all the fandom bullshit to bring joy to their bubble of fandom. They're easily my go-to author rec for anyone getting into steddie and/or A/B/O and they deserve all of the love!! And if you're seeing this Lexi, thank you for continuing to create and share your beautiful ideas with us. ♥ - anonymous

Below the cut, @lexirosewrites answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I love the chemistry that Steve and Eddie have. They’re two people who make no sense together and yet they make so much sense together? They have a good mix of parental issues and they’re on opposite sides of the social spectrum, which makes for a lot of fun exploring their relationship.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m a sucker for soulmate fics. They’re my true weakness in life.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I love to write about mutual pining. I enjoy making it clear that both parties are pining and suffering under the delusion that their feelings are unrequited.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is such a hard question. I don’t read as much as I used to, but the one I reread the most is “Consummate Professional” by Eddywow for sure. It’s just a cute fic and the smut is A+ as well!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve worked through most of my favorite tropes at this point, but I’m excitedly planning a timeloop fic set in the omegaverse.

What is your writing process like?

It’s a bit of a mess, truthfully. I start with unorganized bullet points to brainstorm things I think will happen in the fic and slowly arrange that into a real plot with actual events and not just some loose threads of a story. Then, I just go chapter by chapter to put them in order and make changes as necessary after that.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I write omegaverse fics almost exclusively. Which I’d say probably qualifies as a quirk! I also just have a habit of writing recurring themes in many of my works. For the most part, they all have angst, lots of pining and miscommunication, and a perfectly cozy happy ending with a big bow on it.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Oh, I hate waiting. The moment a chapter or fic is done and someone has at least skimmed it over for big issues, it gets formatted and posted. The only times I wait are for events like the Big Bang or a gift for someone’s birthday!

Which fic are you most proud of?

“Bandaids for the Heart” is the work closest to my heart because I’m a nurse and I got to use my love for nursing to write about my job and craft a whole story out of it. I’m very proud of how it turned out and the fact that I finished it despite some personal challenges along the way.

How did you get the idea for 24-Hour Diner?

I actually got an ask on tumblr with the prompt that inspired me to write it!

When writing 24-Hour Diner, what was something you didn’t expect?

I actually have a longer Mafia AU fic and I was worried they’d end up being too similar, but I enjoyed finding little ways to distinguish it as its own fic.

What inspired On Thin Ice?

I love to ice skate and a friend in my discord server was gushing about HexieWrites’ “Carve Your Name Into My Chest,” which made me want to explore my figure skating background.

What was your favorite part to write from On Thin Ice?

There’s a scene where Steve gets injured and Eddie has to carry him off the rink. Every story has at least one “that’s the scene I really want to write!” and that was the one for this fic. I love some good hurt/comfort!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

That’s so hard to narrow down, but I’d have to say that it’s a scene from my fic “Bad Beat,” where Steddie are at prom and Eddie pulls out a granola bar from his tux pocket because he knows Steve likes them… even as Steve is fully planning on pranking him for a bet. It’s a heartbreaking scene and I think about it a lot.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’ve got lots of upcoming fics, but I can’t share most of the titles yet since they’re gifts! However, I have a The Greatest Showman inspired fic called “A Million Dreams” that’s getting posted in early January!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I’m honestly so grateful to have the support that I do for how niche most of my fics are. Most people in the Steddie community have been incredibly kind to me and I really appreciate it, even if omegaverse isn’t their cup of tea. I’m just here to have fun and make new friends!

Thank you to our author, @lexirosewrites, and our nominator! See more of @lexirosewrites' work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #lexirosewrites

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dduane · 8 months

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Re: Magic systems

kosmonaunt asked:

I have the weird hyper-fixation of wanting to know all their is about The Speech and just how everything works!! I love learning about how power systems work, and it helps since I’m trying to develop my own. I’m always stuck on soft or hard magic systems. Since I don’t know all there is to really know about my system. Do you have tips on crafting magic systems? How do you feel about someone being inspired by pieces of your system?

Inspiration is fine! What you want to make sure you do with whatever inspires you, though, is to work hard to make your own take on it different from or better than what you borrowed. Around here we refer to this as "the magpie principle:" if you're going to pick up and play with/make off with a bright and shiny idea, you need to be working to produce something even brighter and shinier as your part of the "exchange". Whether or not you succeed at this (or can succeed), either sometimes or never at all, isn't the point. The point is to always be trying.

As regards building magic systems: there were three different ones in the foreground or background of my first novel alone—all of them with features that at this end of time I can recognize as being inspired by elements of magic systems in other writers' work. But by the time I'd more fully developed them, each had become something unique. The system I'm probably better known for—the system based on the wizardly Speech and its use—sprang more or less automatically from the increasingly complex answers to the question, "What if there was a manual that could tell you the truth about/the secrets of what makes the world go?". (Because once you answer one question, another pops up. "Where did that manual come from? What're you supposed to do with it? What's wizardry for?" Etc., etc.) I've spent the last few decades, on and off, answering that question in ways that (intentionally) mirror the main characters' exploration of the art of wizardry, and what it means to engage in the business of errantry in a world that mostly thinks wizards are a fairy tale.

Before getting into describing my own approach to building a system, I needed to take a little time to look around and make sure I knew what you meant when you mentioned hard and soft magic. My best guess is that you're referring to what a lot of people are calling "Sanderson's Three Laws of Magic" (fairly enough, as Brandon calls them that himself). I had a look, and have come to the conclusion that they're more general guidelines than laws... as in each of his three essays on the subject, Brandon no sooner names his basic laws/principles than he starts punching holes through them to make room for systems that don't follow them rigidly. (And frankly I find this kind of endearing.)

With his first one, in particular, I have no quarrel at all: the concept that in one kind of magic, which for his purposes he defines as the "hard" kind, rules are extremely important. (Which is why I'm kind of horrified that he apparently got dogpiled about this take on a Worldcon panel, because to me it seems so intuitive. Some of the best fantasy storytellers I know, like this one, would agree with him.) Then later he gets on to the equally valid ideas that limitations on magic are really important, and that culturally interconnecting multiple systems is useful; and here too we're in agreement. This is reassuring to me, considering that I built my first four systems—all of which feature approaches resting on similar concepts—while Sanderson was between four and six years old. :)

People using Sanderson's Laws will look at the three systems in the Middle Kingdoms books and classify them as varying sorts of relatively hard magic, with their power rooted in two or maybe three different sources. (The blue Fire is a gift of the Divine, nearly lost since ancient times and much damaged, but now slowly being recovered: sorcery is a language-based art in which no one's terribly sure where its power comes from: and the so-called "royal magics" probably started out as a blood sorcery that over centuries was shifted toward very specific uses by the power of the demigod-descendants who employed it.)

The Young Wizards novels, though, feature an extremely hard magic deeply rooted in science and (more or less under the hood) very, very rules-intensive... while its power relies on correct use of the language used to create the Universe, and the active cooperation of the Powers still busy about that work. And this is the reason why, though people are going to naturally be curious about the Speech itself, no one's going to hear very much from me about its actual words.

This is because the Speech is canonically described as so powerful that its use is something you can feel in your body and mind (and theoretically your spirit): bone-shaking, life-changing, unmistakable. And there's no way that made-up words on the page can realistically be expected to evoke physical sensations like that in the reader... or like the sense of the universe going silent around you, leaning in to listen, as you speak your spell. The careful writer knows that it's unwise to attempt to produce responses in the reader that, when they fail, will only emphasize how that thing is not happening, and stands a good chance of shattering the illusion one’s trying to weave.

So a Speech-word gets dropped here and a phrase there, but no one's ever going to get enough of it out of me to try to build a spell. Readers are better at doing that work for themselves in their own heads, out of hints and whispers. Over ten books and their interstitial material, there are plenty of those scattered through the text: not to mention the most basic principles of wizardry, which are laid out before the end of the first chapter of the first book in the series. So I'll leave you to get on with deducing what you can from canon.

Meanwhile, if I was about to build a new system, I'd look at my main characters—in the setting of their home cultures—and ask myself for answers to these questions:

What do they want more than anything?

Why can't they have it?

What kind of power will help them get it?

When they do eventually get within reach of the power / the desired thing... what will its achievement cost them?

And will they pay the price?

...Because the payment of such prices is where you find out what your heroes are worth. (Or aren't.) The above arc succinctly describes, in broad strokes, both The Door into Fire and So You Want To Be A Wizard, and a good number of the books that follow them. (Because why abandon what works, or try to fix what's not broken?) :)

With answers to the questions above you can start feeling your way toward what you need—always looking closely at the cultures your characters spring from, and how those cultures will shape their response to the magic they seek. (Or that finds them.) Maybe it's no surprise that the preferred arc structure of a writer who was a psychiatric nurse will be deeply involved with questions of motivation: because motivation is at the heart of almost all human behavior. Find the motivation and you find the character's heart—and, often enough, what kind of magic they need to make their desire and intention overflow into triumph.

...There are quite a few "How to design your magic system" pages out there. You might glance at these to see if there's anything useful in them for you:

How To Build An Amazing Magic System For Your Fantasy Novel

How To Create A Magic System In Six Simple Steps

Building Your Magic System: A Full Recipe

How To Create A Rational Magic System

However, my favorite is the "So You Want To Write A Functional Magic System" page at TV Tropes, which is nicely arranged yet also completely nonprescriptive—a pick-'n'-mix jar of prompts, things other writers have done that've worked, and generally useful ideas. (And try not to vanish too far down the many interconnected rabbitholes...) :)

Now get out there, build the world, and make the magic(s).

#magic systems #building magic #magic #writing advice #fantasy

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masonmiamor · 5 months

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think about it - - mason mount x reader.

summary: what happens when bsf! mason wants more, but you’re not willing too in order to protect your friends heart and yours.

wc: 1.3k

Hi everyone... It's been months... so forgive me... it's a Christmas miracle! 😭😭I hope everyone is doing okay and safe! I'd love to hear all about it if you'd like to speak about it! Feel like this is so bad and I lost my spark but I hope you can still enjoy :( 💕 don't forget to reblog, as us writers love to hear back from you!

“Stop! Don’t say another word,” you reluctantly stood being faced with Mason who stood confused. “You can’t say that Mason. You’re going out with her! One of my friends? How can you say that?” you defend your friend, even if she wasn’t there.

Being best friends with Mason wasn’t always easy. He forgot he was a normal person sometimes, and would let the fame get to his head, which is what he’s doing right now. Your parents and his were grateful more than ever to have you keep him in check because lord knew it would be a mess.

Mason had been flirting and going out with your friend Stella. From the stories she told, it sounded serious, and wanted more. You didn’t play Cupid, and part of you was slightly upset when you found out from Declan they were going out. Behind your back, not even a single word from Mason.

Stella was a beautiful blond, working at a law firm, and definitely super confident. You were the opposite, still at uni and trying to find a program that could promote your art. Art was your life, no matter what went on, it was a way for you to release all your energy into a blank canvas.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t like her like that anymore. She’s to stuck up and self-centered, I’m not ready for that commitment,” Mason reasoned but you shook your head with a no. This was him. Becoming a womanizer. Forgetting the good and little things that occurred in his life.

“You’re gonna break her heart? Before Christmas? Really?” you say with a pure questioning voice, your eyes squinting. Mason shrugged and nodded nonchalantly, “I don’t see why not. I realized I didn't want her. She’s not the one I want,” he said.

“So why play her? Drag it out this long. That’s not fair to her,” you say disgusted not being able to look at him. Mason always was a person you admired and looked up to, but deep down you fell for the freckled brown-eyed man. It was hard to resist and you refused to accept it, but when seeing them together, you couldnt help think it should be you aside him. “You don’t think it’s fair for me? I never wanted her, she threw herself at me.”

“Which is why I’m saying why play her when you should’ve made it clear from the start? You made her attached to you and let her believe your lies and promises. Mason what the actual fuck?” you spit out with pure rage. The room becomes hot as you begin to look around for the exit.

“She also played with me! I’m sure she didn’t tell you that because you’re blind to her. You’re so quick to defend her but what about me? Your best friend? Stella messed around with other men, while I stayed loyal to her. She’s a liar and a manipulator. So what if I end it before Christmas? I can finally have the person I want instead of being focused on someone who can’t even make time for me.”

This was certainly news to you, as you started to feel regretful for the way you screamed at him. To call him a womanizer and letting the fame get to him. You didn’t know Stella did this, it was news to you. As all she could brag about nowadays was about Mason this Mason that. She never mentioned talking with other people. He was right. You did let her get to your head.

“It’s okay I know you didn’t mean it, to scream at me,” Mason noticed your quiet tone, heart-wrenching as he tried to swallow the words that wanted to come out, before he knew it, he started speaking again. “I know you want what’s best for everyone, but when will you think of yourself? You also deserved to be treated right and loved by someone,” you eyed him weirdly and burst out laughing.

“Me being in in love? Or someone loving me? That’s impossible. I haven’t had a boyfriend in years, let alone go on dates. I’m starting to accept the fact I won’t find anyone, I mean look at me!” you said seriously, continuing to laugh. Mason frowned, shaking his head at the way you were talking to yourself.

“I am looking at you… and all I see is someone who’s scared of revealing who they truly are. The commitment maybe or afraid of being rejected. A beautiful, smart, independent woman,” Mason said carefully as he took steps closer to you. “Someone who deserves the world after putting everyone first before her. Why can't you see that? Why do you distance yourself from me?” he asked with urgency.

You would be lying if you said you slowly detached yourself from him. Avoiding plans or meetings because it hurt to see him. The idea of him not telling you he was going out with Stella, seeing them together when all your friends went out, your friend who still was with Mason, and being in love with your best friend but still trying to refuse it.

It drove you wild and often made you cry because everyone around you began to settle down, and you were left wondering why you couldn’t keep one good person in your life. You hated the fact of never being enough, for yourself or anyone around you. Maybe you weren't enough and that is what pushed people away.

“Mason…”

“Why can't you let me love you like you deserve? Let me take your worries and pains away? Let me be the man you need and love you unconditionally? What are you so afraid of? What else do I have to do to get your attention?” Mason confessed. The Christmas tree lighting made him look intimidating as he held your face in his large hands.

It was fucked up. He knew it was fucked up to mess with your friend to get you to see how madly he fell in love with you. It was an even bigger mistake to have dragged it out this long, knowing how distant and muted you were from him. He just wanted you to finally see that it was him all along.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to look him in the eyes, because if you did, you would give it away how you felt about him. The eyes never lied. Your eyes never lied to him. “Say something please…” Mason pleaded, afraid he might've overstepped, or read the cards wrong.

“I'm not the right person for you Mase… I can’t give you what you want…” you painfully smiled, as both of your hearts sunk deeper. “I can't lose you like I’ve lost everyone else. We wouldn't work, I’m just way too different from the girls you've been with,” you say pulling away from his grasp and walking to the opposite end of the room.

“They're not you though. You will always come first. They didn't mean anything because it wasn't them I wanted, it's all along been you. I’ve spent way too much time thinking, losing you, suffering because you weren't with me. I'm tired of that, I just want you baby. Don't compare yourself to anyone in the world, because at the end of the day, you will be the first one I look for… I love you.” Your eyes widened, not realizing he stood in front of you again.

Your head felt heavy, filled with thoughts as they raced through your head. Your chest tightened at his words. After waiting so long to hear them, why did all of a sudden feel different? Like you didn't believe them. Believe him. Was it the fact she was still present, or were you afraid of finally having something real and you being the reason to lose it all? Mason leaned down kissed the inner corner of your mouth, and pulled away. Joining your families who were celebrating Christmas Eve.

“Think about it. Okay?”

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb

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avelera · 5 months

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I’ve been enjoying the Wondrium course, “The Birth of the Modern Mind: The Intellectual History of the 17th and 18th Century” much more than I expected to (based on the title). It certainly helps that the lecturer is extremely passionate about the subject. He also has a thick Jersey accent which makes it feel a bit like being lectured to by Danny DeVito.

But what really enraptured me about the course was its focus on how historical peoples thought differently than us, through the lens of how ideas we take for granted today were first introduced.

For example, one might think it obvious that, ideally, the pursuit of philosophy (as in literally “the love of knowledge”) and intellectual pursuits should be with the overarching goal of bettering the world. But that wasn’t a given, necessarily, before Francis Bacon who pioneered and championed this idea. His views became central to the later established British Royal Society, which formed a backbone of intellectual pursuits in England to this day, and likely plays a large part in just why this philosophy is deemed central to the sciences to the point of being self evident (at least, again, as an ideal).

Now, the reason I’m interested in this beyond basic curiosity is that I write historical and fantasy fiction. One goal I have when writing other times and places (real or imagined) is to capture or at least suggest and invoke a different thought process from our own. So this course is very useful in understanding how early modern people (in Europe) thought but also by extension how to create other, fictional ways to depict a different thought process. One of my favorite quotes already from this course, paraphrased, is that if we were sent back in time to a totally foreign, perhaps ancient era, we’d probably grasp pretty quickly what the rules for survival are. Like, how to make a living. Or how to not piss off the powers that be.

However, why everyone is doing what they do, how they think about the world, what basic assumptions they take to be self-evident and immutable, might be harder to grasp. For example, why do they simply accept the divine right of kings? Or that a deity makes the sun rise and set? Because they just do. That might be quite hard for a modern person to reckon with or accept.

(This particular question is quite close to my heart because I once disagreed with my Classics advisor about whether we’d get along with Bronze Age people if we ever got the chance to meet them. My advisor stated that ancient people would be utterly alien to us. Perhaps all she and I really had was a failure to communicate nuance, but I was baffled and outraged by the notion. Ape mothers with their babies have been able to recognize and on a basic level, identify and communicate with human mothers holding their babies sympathetically. Both understand they were mothers with babies and bonded over this. You’re telling me that I, as a fellow homo sapien, couldn’t communicate and understand a fellow homo sapien from a mere 3,000 years ago?? However, if the nuance instead was, “You could figure out quickly how to work within their society but you’d struggle with the rationale of the why of their society, it would be utterly alien to you.” That I would much more readily accept.)

Anyway, I highly recommend this course, especially for fiction writers who want to capture and understand that the way we think has evolved (speaking for the predominantly “Western” Anglosphere) and by extension, how to understand and portray other more archaic forms of thinking.

#Maggie rambles #Wondrium #lecture recommendation #philosophy

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botnasty · 6 months

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Part Four: No More Theory

Roommate!Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Summary: Gone are the theories...

Words: 1,2K words

Warnings: ANGST, THIS IS ANGST CITY, then fluffy cheesiness :)

Note: All mistakes are mine and please tell me if I’m missing any warnings. Also sorry on the wait for this part, completely had a writers block.

Not proofread

Series Masterlist

Laying in bed, you never felt more defeated in your life. Your mind was screaming at you for being stupid for thinking what you and Bucky had was exclusive. You couldn’t be mad at him for going after someone else tonight, you two never talked and made what you had/did more than what it really was: two friends having fun without any feelings. You didn’t want to believe it, but what happened today at the Halloween party made you open your eyes. You were just his friend with benefits.

You whipped the tears falling on your damp cheeks and pulled the duvet closer to you. You didn’t know how tomorrow was going to be fairing, but one thing for sure is, you were going to stop whatever that was happening between you two before you got hurt. Never once had you let a man hurt you before, it won’t start now.

You picked up your phone from the bedside table and you could see so many texts. 25 from Natasha, 3 from Sam, but none from the person that mattered the most. Whatever, he was probably busy with that girl. In your mind, you hoped she was taking good care of him, but your hurt was aching. Why did you have to screw your friendship with that “Theory” bullshit?

You closed your lamp and purged you into the peaceful darkness that is sleep - when the door opened. Only one other person other than you had the keys to the apartment and - because you didn’t want to deal with it right now - you fastly put your head on your pillow and closed your eyes, trying your hardest to regulate your breathing as you could hear footsteps coming closer.

“Toots?” Bucky whispered. “Are you awake?” The footsteps stopped. Why was it so hard to breathe normally in his presence?

You felt a slight touch on your cheeks. “My beautiful, beautiful, toots.” You could feel his breath on your forehead and the slight touch of his lips on your nose. “Wake up.” He said softly. You didn’t want to. You feared what you were going to say or do if you did. A kiss on your forehead. “Wake up, beautiful.” On your eyelid - which you couldn’t help but move. “Come back to me, toots.” And lastly on your lips before you couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes felt like burning from holding your tears.

You slowly opened them. He was kneeled down right at the side of the bed. Just his smile alone made you want to just forget it happened and continue whatever it is you had. You waked and pulled yourself into a sitting position, pulling your cover closer to you like it was some sort of shield for your emotions. You almost jumped when he cupped your jaw and kissed your forehead. “I missed you, toots.” You looked at the clock, it hadn’t even been 2h since you left the party.

“I’ve only been gone for 2 hours, Bucky. I’m sure you would’ve been able to find more important people to spend your night with.” You rubbed your eyes to remove any trace that you were about to cry. Not in front of him. Never.

“Toots, look at me.” You placed your hand down your lap and looked at him, his eyes were still bloodshot from all the weed he had taken during the party. “I love you.” Your heart exploded. It was not what you expected and you were mad. How dare him.

How dare him!

Fucking flirting and using the same technic he did on you with someone else not even a few hours before he said those words to you. What a fucking fraud of a man you were living with. You fought yourself to scoff at his words.

He placed his forehead on yours. “I love you a whole lot. That’s why I can’t bear not being in the same room as you. You make everything so much better, you know.” Now that was just high person talk.

You let out a small smile. “Come sleep, Bucky. You are high right now and are saying a bunch of bullshit. It’s time for you to sleep.” You went from your bed to drag him to your room. You wouldn’t let him sleep in yours when you barely could stand him right now.

But Bucky didn’t move one bit.

“You don’t believe me…” Is what he said almost to yourself.

Now the scoff escaped your mouth. “No I do not, Bucky. For so many reasons.”

He got up and tried to get close to you, but you stopped him with your hand.” First, you are high. And you know how you get when you are high. You ramble about things over and over, tell everyone you love them and you hug them. So, this certainly doesn't make me special.”

“You know—”

“Second, we never established what we had. All we do is fuck. Sure, you sometimes kiss me, we cuddle, but we never specify what’s going on between us.”

“I thought it was—”

“And last, you were literally flirting and using that ‘theory’ bullshit on someone else two hours ago. How can I believe that you love me when all this tells me otherwise, Bucky?” He stayed silent, looking down. His eyebrows frowning. “Do you see where I am coming from?”

“What girl?”

“The girl at the party! The one wearing a nurse costume. After you went to the bathroom, I tried to look for you and I found you being all cozy with her.”

“Oh, her.”

You placed your hands on your hips. “Yes, her.” Anger was bubbling inside of you wanting to come out like a volcano.

“I thought she was you. You know I am not wearing my glasses.”

You shook your head. “So you were wearing contacts, what does it have to do with anything right now, Bucky.” You said desperately.

“Yes, I was wearing contacts, but those that make your iris look red, for my costume. So, I could barely see.” Your arms falling beside your body. Bucky placed his hands on your cheek, your eyes directly looking in his and he was right, his eyes were completely red, not from the weed, but because of the contacts. All anger vanished and all you could feel was shame. Shame for thinking he was playing you, for thinking he was just like the others that had hurt you. “I thought she was you, toots. I genuinely thought she was. I love you and I don’t see myself with anyone but you. Do you seriously think that, after years of trying to get your attention, I would mess it up for a random fuck?” You shook your head. “Exactly, my love. So please, believe me when I say this : I love you. I have loved you since I met you and I will love you until you let me.”

You placed both hands on his wrist and looked deep into his eyes. “I love you too. Maybe not as long as you did, but I love you and I want no one else but you.”

And you kissed as the moonlight shines upon the two of you.

Thank you so much for waiting and reading:)

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

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pleaseee, a part 2 to ‘ you don’t want to know me ‘

i love jamie tartt so much and hurt / comfort is just my fave kind of writing <3

Got a rude interesting comment in my inbox about my content. It’s kind of a bummer how one that isn’t nice attempts to overshadow all the love that people give. I’m glad people enjoy my writing, but ultimately I write it for myself. Requests are super awesome because it helps me grow as a writer, but I do only write the things that I want to. And I think that’s ok. I’m happy that there are a lot of people who like to read the things I like to write, and I understand those that don’t. You don’t have to be unkind about it.

Anyway, thank you @jellycolors for this ask! Y’all really do like a pt. 2 morning after fic, don’t you?😂

never wanted you to hate me

The sun is at the perfect angle to shoot a beam directly into your eyes, waking you up at exactly 7:32am, twenty-eight minutes before your alarm is supposed to go off. It’s Sunday, which is stupid, because you’re supposed to sleep in. Instead, you’re awake in bed, with your blankets feeling warmer and heavier than usual. You blink your eyes open to Jamie Tartt, shirtless and on top of you, fast asleep. You’re pretty much pinned under him, unable (or unwilling) to move him off.

You wonder how long you should let Jamie sleep, and what he’s going to think when he wakes up like this. You’re sure this is a far cry from his usual mornings, usually with some model or something wrapped around him. You think since he’s the one holding you, it’s probably fine.

Jamie doesn’t wake up until your alarm goes off and when it does, he startles and almost rolls off the bed. You laugh at his look of utter confusion, as it takes him a moment to figure out where he is.

“You alright?” you ask, still grinning. Jamie, however, is not.

“Yeah,” he replies shortly. “Gonna get my things and get the fuck out of here.” He stalks out your bedroom without another word.

The way he’s acting is a far cry from the Jamie who asked you to sit on the bathroom sink last night so he wouldn’t be alone. In fact, it’s closer to the prickish version of himself that comes out on the pitch. You don’t like that he’s being that way with you, so you follow him to your living room.

“What the fuck was that?” you say to Jamie’s back as he bends down to get his jacket off the couch.

“Don’t know what you mean,” he replies, still not turning around.

You cross your arms. “You come here all- all sad and shit, fall asleep in my bed, tell me you fucking love me, and now you’re just leaving? What the fuck?”

Jamie stills. “I was just tired. Didn’t know what I was saying.”

That’s a lie, and you’re not going to let him get away with it.

You make your voice as steely as possible. “Jamie Tartt, if you think I’m fucking stupid as to think that I wouldn’t know you’re lying, then you might as well just go.”

Jamie turns to face you, and he looks a little wild. “Don’t think that just because we’ve known each other for thirteen years, that you fucking know me. Leave me the fuck alone.”

You squint at him. He’s wrong again. You do fucking know him. You know him so well that you understand exactly why he’s reacting this way. He hates being vulnerable in front of anyone, so now he’s trying to cut and run, pushing away one of the last people who actually cares about him.

Jamie’s still standing by the couch, clutching his Man City jacket, knuckles white. He’s still shirtless, breathing hard and waiting for you to fire back. You don’t.

Instead you say, so softly, “You know I never talk about you, right? Not gonna fuck off to some tabloid and tell them you said you love some girl you’ve known since you were ten.”

Jamie deflates a little so you continue. “We’re going to talk about all this. We’re going to talk about Roy Kent and your dad and the fact that your mum misses you so she calls me instead, and I’m going to make you breakfast and probably hold your hand and by the time you leave, you’re going to feel better and maybe actually feel fucking happy, because I see you in pictures, Jaim, and your smile really doesn’t reach your eyes anymore.”

“It’s fucked, ain’t it?” he says quietly. “I’m twenty-three, still letting me dad push me around.” He puts the jacket back on the couch and walks toward you. “And Roy Kent- he’s been my hero since I was a kid. He fucking hates me, and now he’s got a reason because I ended his fucking career. Me. And I have to live with that shit. It was the fucking worst game I’ve ever had to play. I hate being with City, especially since they all hate me for bein’ at Richmond. Pep’s the only one who didn’t say shit, just told me I was a good lad. I’ve been feeling all these emotional things and I didn’t want to go to me mum and I knew you lived ‘round here, so I thought I’d come over. You always made me feel better after seeing my dad.”

Jamie’s right in front of you now, rubbing a thumb on your cheekbone. You’re absolutely positive he can hear your heartbeat, and you dare to thread your arms around his waist.

“I loved you the first time I saw you. That’s why I was always hanging ‘round. Mum knew, she teased me about it for the longest time. Always tried to get me to say somethin’, but I weren’t ready. And you always fucking saw right through me, which freaked me the fuck out. Even now, I feel like- like you’re looking straight through me to my soul, and it’s fucking terrifying. But-” he takes a deep breath, “I also feel safe around you. I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause I’ve seen you eat so much cake you had to lie down on the couch and sleep it off.”

He’s grinning now, and so are you.

“Hey,” you say, poking his chest, “I was ten and you thought you were all great because you were a year older than me and way too smart to do shit like that, as if you haven’t puked from drinking too much.”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell, maybe you know too much about me.”

“Not possible, Tartt,” you reply. “Now, you need a shirt and I need to shower.”

He smiles. “I think you might need some help. Heard you hate showering alone.”

You laugh. “Alright, you knob. Guess it’s been long enough.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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hippiegoth97 · 1 month

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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 1

A/N: Hey, everybody! The time has finally come. My two-year project, Into the Fire, is (almost) finally complete. I originally published this on Wattpad, but I’ve reformatted and edited the hell out of it to make it neater for this platform. This story has been my baby, a work of love and devotion to the fictional man that resides in my heart: Eddie Munson. I’m excited to share it with all of you, as it’s my proudest achievement. If you’re ever curious to know who I am as a writer, as a fan, and as a person, this is it. Please like, comment, reblog, follow to your heart’s content. And if you’d like to join my tag list, feel free to let me know.

Collage by me :)

Masterlist

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams @slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals @eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30 @jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson @sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975 @costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI : Mentions of blood, smoking, crying, angst, smut, teasing, fingering, use/mentions of drugs and alcohol, orgasm denial, small argument, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, squirting

Word Count: 15k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 1.1: Fast Times at Hawkins U

Friday, March 10th, 1989

"Can I please host Hellfire here this weekend, Mom? The theater room is being repainted, and the Wheeler's have temporarily banned us because Mike is grounded. This campaign is really important, weeks of work have gone into this." You're sitting on the couch, listening to your brother Dustin pleading with your mother in the kitchen.

"I don't know, Dusty. You know we don't have a lot of extra money to spend on food for all your friends. I love that you have a good bond with them since Will moved away, but isn't there somewhere else you can go?" Your mother has always been worried about money since Dad skipped out on you. You'd initially offered to get a job once you were out of high school, but she insisted you focus on college and just 'enjoy being young before it's too late'.

"See, I knew you'd be concerned about that, but everyone else is bringing snacks and stuff. You won't need to worry, Mom. We won't ask you for anything, I promise! We just need the space, nobody else's house is big enough for everybody." You can't help but smile to yourself, Dustin always thinks of everything. He's always been a sweet, considerate kid. Sure, he’s passionate about his interests, but he never wants to add to your mother's burden. He may be young, but he’s smart enough to understand that she isn't made of money. Most kids would throw a fit or cry, but not Dustin. He thinks logically, working around every problem like a little mastermind.

"Oh, alright! As long as you clean up after yourselves, and try to keep the noise down when it gets late, you can host your club, sweetie." Mom has a hard time saying no when Dustin eliminates any concerns she’s posed, which admittedly isn't hard to do.

"Thanks, Mom! You're the best!" He cheers as he squeezes Mom tightly in a hug, she returns it with just as much strength. Your family is notorious for lung-crushing hugs. When they finally loosen their grip, Dustin jumps into the air in excitement. "I'm gonna go call everyone and tell them we're all set to go!" He rushes past you to the phone, rapidly dialing each member of the club, manically telling them your home is officially a hosting place for D&D starting tomorrow after school. Once everyone has been let in the loop, Dustin collapses back into his chair, catching his breath.

"You must be really excited for this campaign, huh?" You tease him.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am! It's probably the most important one we've ever had. And the longest, too. Eddie's been planning it for months." He beams at you, eyes wide and his smile impossibly large. But the thing that really stirs your interest is the mention of the club's leader, Eddie.

"Eddie's still leading you guys? I figured he would've passed the title down after he finished school." You remember him from high school, he just barely graduated in '86 with your class after being held back twice. Everyone expected him to drop out, but you admired the fact that he proved them wrong. You've always thought he was cute, but you ran in more academic circles. You weren't popular by any means, you were still a full-on nerd. But Eddie never treated you poorly. In fact, it was the opposite. He may act tough sometimes, but he's a big softy when he lets his guard down. You’re excited for him to be here, in your house, for three whole days. It’ll give you plenty of time to check him out, maybe even make a move if he isn't too busy with the game.

"Yeah, he meant to pick one of us to take over. I guess he gets kinda lonely and wants to stick around. He works sometimes, but when he isn't there's not much for him to do. His uncle works at the plant all night and sleeps all day. And everyone else is either in college or still in high school. So, the club is really all he has going on right now. He would have the band too, but the others have all gone out of state. He misses them a lot. We all do. They're some of our best players, really decent guys, too." Dustin's eyes look so sad, he really feels bad for Eddie. And you can't help but have sympathy for him as well. He made a place for freaks and geeks to feel accepted, and in the end, he's the one who got left behind. "Oh, shit. Don't tell him I told you any of this. He doesn't even acknowledge being lonely, I just couldn't help but pick up on it. He'll be so embarrassed if he knows I said anything." Dustin's eyes widen as he tries to right his mistake. You just smile at him.

"I won't say a word, Dusty. Your secret is safe with me. It's nice that you're so concerned for him, though. He's lucky to have you as a friend." You stand up to go to bed, ruffling his hair as you walk past. "Goodnight, kiddo." You call after him. You're halfway down the hall when a thought occurs to you, one that could benefit both you and Eddie. You walk backwards to face Dustin again. "Hey, would it be cool if I watched you guys play? I don't want to throw off your flow by trying to learn to play during your 'important' campaign. But I'd like to see how it goes, and maybe join you guys next time?" His eyes light up at your suggestion. He's tried for years to get you to play, but it didn’t seem like your style. But now that Eddie would be taking up temporary residence in your home, you figured now was as good a time as any to seek it out.

"Yeah, that'd be awesome! And I'm sure everyone would be cool with it." He takes a moment to think over your sudden motivation to join the club, finding it suspicious. "Wait a minute...you've never been interested any of the times I practically begged you to play. What's changed?" He quirks an eyebrow at you curiously.

"Oh, you know. I figure I should finally see what all the fuss is about. You've worn me down, kiddo." You reply nervously. You hope he'll take the bullshit, but it's unlikely. He's too smart for that.

He gives you a knowing look, smiling just a bit too big. "You sure it has nothing to do with Eddie staying in our house for three days?" Your eyes widen, he always sees right through you. Damn this kid's intellect. You don't dare to give him the satisfaction of being right.

"NO!" You protest, knitting your eyebrows in annoyance. "I just think life is short, and I should get some quality time with my baby brother. That's all! Now, I'm going to bed. And if you so much as imply that I like Eddie in any way when your friends are here, I'm going to smother you in your sleep!" You start walking back down the hall, ignoring Dustin's giggling. You slam your bedroom door shut, slumping to the floor as you lean against it. You dread what's to come tomorrow, Dustin is sure to blow it for you. He’s notorious for flapping his gums when he’s overly amused by something. And him discovering your crush on Eddie is one of the most amusing things he's ever heard.

You eventually climb into bed, trying to put thoughts of how badly tomorrow could go out of your mind. You try to focus on something nice, something good to help you fall asleep. Before you know it, Eddie floods your brain. You let your mind wander thinking about him. How handsome he is, with his long hair and tattoos. How soft his lips look, his deep brown eyes that shine so bright. His torn jeans, his leather jacket and battle vest, his Hellfire shirt. You imagine how all of his clothing would feel under your fingertips. You can't help but wonder what his lips taste like. Cigarettes for sure, but maybe something else too? You frequently saw him eating sweets at school, they seemed to be his weakness. So maybe he also tastes like chocolate, or artificial strawberries. Your mouth waters at the thought. You hope you have a chance to find out, though you aren't sure Eddie even sees you that way. You haven't seen him much since high school, so you aren't even sure he'd remember you. You drift off to sleep just as you begin to imagine kissing him.

"Y/N! Hey, Y/N! Wake up! You're gonna be late!" You stir in bed, groaning loudly, pulling the comforter over your head. "Sweetie, you have classes today, and you slept through your alarm." Your eyes snap open, your mind fully realizing Mom is trying to wake you up. Your dreams were vivid and strange. Eddie was there, handsome as always. You know you were doing something with him, but the dream is slipping away from you as your mother chides you about the importance of being on time.

"Yeah, sorry, Mom. I was dreaming really heavily, but I'm getting up. I won't be late, promise." You babble with sleep still on your lips, stumbling from your bed to your dresser. You make quick work of getting dressed, barely putting any effort into your outfit. Jeans and a t-shirt will do. You brush your hair haphazardly, and don't even bother with makeup. You never really wear much anyways, but you definitely don't have time now. You run to the bathroom to brush your teeth, you can't go to class with morning breath.

"Dreaming, huh? What about?" Mom asks as she follows your path, a little too intrigued. You hope that Dustin hasn't let slip that you have a crush on one of his friends.

"Um, I can't remember. It slips away so easily once I wake up. But I'm sure it wasn't that interesting. It's usually about school." You blush as you lie, frantically going back to your bedroom to toss your books in your bag. You zip it shut and sling it over your shoulders, going down the hall to the kitchen. You grab an apple from the counter, you'll eat it on the way to school. You walk towards the entryway, slipping your feet into your sneakers. Mom follows close behind you, still digging.

"Okayyyy, if you say so. But it wouldn't hurt if you had dreams about someone. A boy, perhaps? You could stand to date someone, you've barely brought anyone home before. And you're already twenty. Men won't be chasing after you for much longer." You know Mom doesn't mean that in a hurtful way, it’s just her personal experience. Since Dad left, she's never had much luck in the small dating pool Hawkins has to offer. Especially to someone her age who has two kids. You can't help but be a bit annoyed by her prying into your personal business, though.

"Mom, I'm telling you it was nothing. And even if it was, it's none of your business. And I'm only twenty, there's plenty of time for finding a man, if I even want to do that. I'm an adult, and I'll talk to you about things like this when I want to. But I can't have this conversation right now, or maybe ever. I'm already running late. I'll be back after classes. I love you, Mom." She stands speechless with her mouth hanging open as you walk out the door. You slam it behind you, hating that her lecture has put you in a bad mood. You glance at your watch, shaking your head. Class starts in ten minutes, but it's a fifteen minute bike ride. You think you can make it if you really push yourself.

You go to the side of the house to retrieve your bike. You do have your license, but Mom needs the car for her job. You hop onto the bike, and begin pedaling as fast as you can down the road. You're panting as you pedal, struggling to take bites of your apple while you ride. You're approaching the downtown area, the streets are busy with people on their way to work and school, you have to be careful here. You're lucky enough to hit every green light as you pass the pharmacy, the library, the movie theater.

You're still a ways away from the community college, you check your watch again. Five minutes left, and you need at least eight. You look back up to see that the light you're coming to is yellow, about to turn red. You don't have time to stop, so you pedal even harder. Your lungs are on fire at this point, and you've given up on your apple.

You zoom into the intersection, just as a beat-up van begins to move forward on your right. It collides into you, hitting your front tire and knocking you over. You scream as you fall, scraping your hands and knees against the road. The apple falls from your hand, rolling into the intersection. The van stops, the tires screeching loudly. You're laying on the ground, shaking with fear. You hear the driver open the door and hop out to check on you. Other vehicles have also stopped, drivers stepping out to observe the scene.

"Oh, fuck. Are you alright?" You hear a familiar voice from the driver of the van. No, this cannot be happening. Not here, not him, not now. You feel two large hands grabbing your shoulders to sit you up to face him. You turn your head and find Eddie kneeling next to you. "Hey, you okay, Henderson?" He asks, concern lacing his voice. He does remember me. He waves a hand in front of you, but you're too dumbstruck to say anything. "Did you hit your head? How many fingers am I holding up?" He asks as he puts up three fingers.

"Three. And I'm fine, just some scrapes. Nothing to worry about. I'm gonna be late for class." You try to stand, but you hiss as you feel your palms and knees sting. You start to fall again. Eddie catches you in his arms.

"Let me see." He says, looking into your eyes. You show him your hands, they're bleeding and have little pebbles lodged in the cuts. He checks your knees, your jeans are torn, and the flesh is also scraped and bloody. "Okay, I'll get you in the van. We'll get you cleaned up and then I'll drive you to class." He stutters as he speaks, he's pretty shaken up. Eddie stands with you still in his arms, carrying you to the passenger door. He's surprisingly strong, given how skinny he is. He opens the door, placing you inside the passenger seat, gently shutting you inside.

Eddie goes to grab your bike from the road, but the front tire is busted. "Shit." You hear him mutter as he lifts it up. You see the damage, cursing yourself for being so careless. Now you don't have a way to class, unless you walk. He carries the bike to the back of the van, placing it in as politely as possible. He shuts the doors, and runs back to the front. The onlookers are still staring, making your cheeks burn red. It's so embarrassing, half the town saw you eat it in the middle of the road. Eddie waves them away, assuring he'll take care of you and your bike.

Everyone seems satisfied and moves on with their day. Traffic resumes movement, and Eddie enters the van again. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'll do everything I can to tend to your wounds and fix your bike." He says, eyes focused on the road as he starts driving. But he's not going towards your school. Instead, he's heading in the direction of the supermarket.

"No, Eddie. Don't be sorry. I was the one rushing, risking exactly what happened just now so I could make it on time. I was being stupid. And don't worry, I'm not expecting you to do anything for me. It's my own fault, I一"

"Cut that shit out, Y/N. I don't want you to blame yourself. It wasn't exactly smart, but I'm the one that hit you. So relax, and let me help you. Shit, I forgot how stubborn you can be." He looks at you with stern eyes, serious about taking care of you. You nod silently, deciding to do as he asks. "Good, now I'm gonna go in the store and get supplies to clean you up." He says as he pulls into the lot of the market, parking as close to the door as possible. "Do you want anything while I'm in there, Henderson?" He asks.

"No thanks. I don't want to be any trouble." You shake your head.

"It's the least I can do, Y/N. I did almost run you over with my van, after all. You're sure you don't want anything?" He tentatively waits for your answer.

"It's very sweet of you, Eddie. But I promise, I'm fine. Just try not to take too long. My mom's gonna kill me if she knows I missed classes today." You plead at him with your eyes to just do what he insists on doing and get you to school as soon as possible. He nods, seeming to get the message.

"No problem, princess. Just wait here, I won't be long." He smiles at you, and leaves the van, running into the store. You can't help but look at his ass while he runs, feeling your cheeks heat up when you realize what you’ve done. You also realize something else. He called you 'princess'. You giggle at the nickname, replaying how it sounded coming from Eddie's lips. You don't even notice Eddie getting back into the van about ten minutes later as you continue to fantasize about him. "Hello? Earth to Y/N. You sure you didn't hit your head?" Eddie waves his hands in front of your face again, snapping you out of your trance.

"Sorry. I'm fine. No concussions here, I swear." Your cheeks burn even more as he's caught you daydreaming.

"Maybe not, but you're looking redder than a commie right about now. What were you thinking about?" Eddie smirks, mentally guessing what potentially dirty things played out inside your head.

You gasp at his question, feeling exposed. "Uh...nothing. Just a dream I had last night. It's not important."

"Hmm, a dream you say? And what, pray tell, were you dreaming about?" He's very curious to know if perhaps he made an appearance. He can't help but smile wider, watching your whole face turn a deep shade of crimson. He thinks you're so cute when you're embarrassed.

"It's nothing you'd want to hear about. Girly stuff. We're wasting time here, I really need to get to class." You look down at your hands, the blood on them turning a dark brown as it dries.

"Right." He sighs, frowning. He didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. He reaches into the bag of items he bought, pulling out some disinfectant and a couple rags. He opens the bottle, squirting some of the liquid onto one of the rags. You hold your hands out to him, and he takes one of your wrists. "This is gonna sting, but I have to get all the blood and dirt off before I can pick out the pebbles." You just nod to give him the go-ahead. He wipes your palm gently, dabbing away the dirt and blood. You hiss in pain, you've never had so much skin scraped off before. "It's alright, Y/N. I'm tryin’ to be quick, but gentle. I don't wanna hurt you more than I already have." His eyes meet yours for a moment, and you see his gentle expression. It makes you blush again, which he takes note of, smiling slightly.

"It's fine, Eddie. Really." You try to reassure him, but he's not convinced. He finishes disinfecting your hands, and goes back into the bag to pull out some tweezers. Eddie makes quick work of plucking all the tiny rocks out of your skin. "Ouch!" You yelp as he accidentally pinches your sore flesh, almost pulling your hand away.

"Shit, sorry. I'm tryin’ my best, some of these fuckers are tiny." He brings his face closer to your hands, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he looks over his work. He pulls out one more stone, dropping it on the floor. "And...done!" He says cheerfully, and you can't help but giggle at him. "Ha! Finally, a smile on that pretty face!" He smirks at you, and it gives you a chill. "Jeez, you are something else, Y/N." He chuckles as he pulls out some ointment and bandages.

"What do you mean?" You question, starting to feel nervous. Did he see you checking him out? No, he couldn't have. You know how to be subtle.

"Relax, Henderson. It's not that serious. What I mean though, is that you're very keen on putting on a brave face for some reason. You've got all these walls built up. You act like you don't need anybody, when clearly you do." He focuses on bandaging your hands as he speaks, the feeling of his skin on yours making you tingle.

"Is that right?" You ask incredulously. You want to feel offended by his words, but he's got you all figured out. You try your best to be independent, and you don't take kindly to people doting on you. You don't want to be a burden.

"Oh, I know I'm right. You've always been like that, even back in high school. You refused any help with bullies, or when your Dad left. You hold up the world on your shoulders, but you don't need to carry so much weight. It's not all yours, ya know." He lifts your bandaged hands up, turning them over. He kisses them lightly while making eye contact with you.

Your eyes widen, and you can't help gasping. "You don't know me, Munson." You snatch your hands away, trying to be angry with him. You hate that he sees right through you. It makes you feel like everybody else does, too. And all they see under your tough exterior is a scared little girl who can't handle anything.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Y/N. I'm just trying to help." Eddie says quietly, turning his attention to your knees. You suck in a breath at the sting of cleanser again, luckily there aren't any pebbles in your legs. You just want him to hurry up and take you to school. You’ve already got a plan hatched now. You’re going to finish out your day, go home, and tell Dustin to forget having you sit in on Hellfire tonight. You can't sit across from Eddie after he's laid everything out like this. It’s so embarrassing, and you want to hate him for it.

"Look, I appreciate the concern. But I don't need your help. I don't need anyone’s help. I can do just fine on my own, and I don't need you digging into my head like this. If I needed someone to do that, I'd see a fucking psychiatrist. Got it?" You almost yell at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His mouth falls open in shock, and he just stares at you. After a moment he's smirking again, and it gives you the urge to slap him. "Why are you looking at me like that, Eddie? Am I amusing to you?" You scowl at him. He can really be an ass sometimes.

"You are very amusing to me, Y/N. In more ways than you think. But I gotta say, you look sexy when you're angry." He chuckles, resuming his work. You can only manage to laugh with him, feeling like you've lost your mind. The fact that you yelled at him hasn't disturbed him in the slightest. Not only that, he thinks it was attractive. "And I'm not meaning to pry, sweetheart. But, can I level with you?" You nod while rolling your eyes, refusing to say anything. He might as well keep talking since you're not fully bandaged yet. "This whole defensive thing you're doing doesn't help anybody. I get why you do it, I've been there. But it seems like what you really need is someone to be there for you. Sure, you've got Dustin and your mom, but you don't seem to have anyone outside of your family. Everyone needs that, Y/N. And all I'm trying to do is be that person for you, but only if you let me. Bottling up the way you do is only going to make you explode later. And next time, it might be on someone much less forgiving than me."

You take some time to think over what Eddie’s just said, mulling the words over in your mind. He’s right. Outside of your home, you don't have anyone. All your friends from Hawkins High went elsewhere for college. And your current lab partner definitely doesn't count, either. You sigh, admitting defeat. "Alright, fine. You've got me pegged, Eds. And yeah, I'm defensive. I have good reason to be, though. I learned the hard way that you can't rely on or trust anyone." Tears begin to build in your eyes, and you curse yourself for letting your emotions get the best of you. Eddie just nods, listening to you speak. "When Dad left, it tore our family apart. He ran off with his secretary, for fuck's sake. How cliche can you get? He doesn't even send birthday cards to me or Dusty. No calls, no visits, nothing. He just up and decided he didn't want us anymore."

You sob after the last sentence leaves your lips. You can't hold back anymore, and you don't want to. You feel a rush of relief washing over you as you cry. You've never opened up to anyone about how your parents separating has affected you. Tons of people get divorced, most of them with kids. You’ve told yourself there’s no reason for you to be upset over something so normal. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel anything about it at all, until now.

Eddie finishes bandaging you up, and tosses the remaining supplies into the back of the van. Then he pulls you from your seat, and into his lap. He holds you in his arms, wiping your tears as they run down your face. Your head lays on his shoulder, and your arms are wrapped around his neck. He looks down at you with genuine care, which makes your heart swell. "I'm so sorry, princess. Your dad sounds like a real piece of shit. You deserve so much better than that." He strokes your hair, keeping it out of your eyes.

"I'm glad you think so, Eds." You sniffle. "But I can't help but wonder what I did to make him want nothing to do with me. I was only twelve. What does a twelve year old do so wrong that her own father abandons her?" You look into Eddie's eyes, begging him for the answer. But who can truly answer such a question?

"Nothing, Y/N. It's not on you, or Dustin, or even your mom. He acted on his own selfishness, that's all. I really hope you won't continue to blame yourself for that." His hand caresses your cheek, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver.

"I guess when you put it like that, it's pretty stupid. I'll try not to do that anymore." You say sadly, and he frowns slightly.

"It's not stupid, Y/N. People blame themselves all the time when they get hurt by others. I'm just saying you don't have to, because it isn't your fault. That's it. So quit insulting yourself, okay?"

"Okay. I promise." You reply quietly, nodding in agreement.

"Good. Now, let's get you to class, hm? I'm sure you missed a good chunk by now, but you'll live." He smiles at you, patting your thigh for you to get off of him. You climb back into your own seat, and Eddie starts up the van again.

It only takes a few minutes to reach Hawkins Community College, and the whole ride there is in silence. The air between you and Eddie feels different now, electric. You don't want to bring attention to it, you doubted Eddie’s even noticed. He parks right in front of the main entrance, turning to look at you. You mirror him, he seems like he's waiting for you to break the silence. "Thanks for um...driving me here. And helping me, and listening to me. You're a nice guy, Eddie." You say while looking down at your hands.

"Please, it's the least I could do. And I'll take your bike to the repair shop for you. What time are you done with classes today?" He asks.

"Uh, three-thirty. Why?" You ask, confused.

"So I can pick you up, silly. You didn't think I'd let you walk all the way home did you? What kind of man do you take me for?" He says in feigned offense, clutching his chest like you’ve stabbed him.

"Oh, well, thank you. I appreciate that, Eddie." You smile at him, and he smiles back. "I guess I should be going, I'll see you later." You turn to open your door, when you feel his hand on your arm. You turn to face him again. "Something wrong?" You ask when you see how desperate he looks to say something to you.

"No, I just一" Eddie stares at you a moment, before deciding to bite his tongue. "Nevermind." He shakes his head, laughing it off. "Have a good day, princess. I'll be back at three-thirty, 'kay?" He blushes slightly, and you wonder what that's about. Eddie is not one to blush, not without good reason. You decide to look past it, focusing on the fact that you're very late for class.

"Okay, three-thirty. Thanks again, Eddie. Really." You open the door and hop down out of the van. You groan slightly as your knees still hurt to bend, today is going to be rough. You glance back at him before closing the door. "See you later, Munson." You grin up at him.

"Later, Y/N." He replies, smirking back at you. You shut the door, turning to walk inside. You make a point to sway your hips just a bit more than usual as you walk, hoping he'll appreciate the view. He seems to because you hear him accidentally honk the horn. You turn back to look. Eddie's blushing like an idiot, smacking his head in embarrassment that his hand slipped as he was staring at your ass. You giggle as you wave coyly at him. He waves back, visibly gulping from nervousness. He shakily starts up the van, tearing out of the parking lot like he just pulled off a bank robbery.

You can't help but laugh at the sight. You made the Eddie Munson lose his cool. Not many people can boast that achievement. You run into the school, thinking about how fun this weekend is truly going to be. You only hope the clock will move faster than usual so you can see Eddie again.

Part 1.2: Do You Wanna Touch Me?

You're in your final class for the day, the large clock on the wall reads 3:25. Just five more minutes until you get to see Eddie again, he's been playing over in your mind all day. You haven't even bothered to pay attention in class, all you can think about is how big his smile is, how his voice sounds, the way his hands feel when they touch you. Luckily none of your professors have called on you like they usually do. Perhaps they’ve noticed your bandages and decided it best to let you be today. You look at the clock again, 3:27. Fuck, can't time go any faster?

You try your hardest to stop staring at that damn clock, looking out the large window to your right. It gives you a great view of the parking lot, and you just happen to see Eddie out there. He's leaning against the van, smoking a cigarette. God, he looks so hot when he smokes. You've never really gotten into it, but you wouldn't mind smoking with him. He's not that far away, but doesn't seem to notice you staring.

"Alright everyone, that's all for today! Don't forget to do the reading on microorganisms. And your 10-page essays on Bacteria vs. Viruses are due on Monday! I'll see you all next week." You're snapped out of your trance as your professor dismisses the class. You gather your things, shoving them into your bag. You dash out of the classroom, running down the halls to get outside. You push the front door open, and rush over to Eddie.

"Well, well, someone's happy to see me!" Eddie greets you as he takes another drag. You lean against the van beside Eddie, twiddling with your hands.

"Maybe. You are my ride home, after all. Is the bike fixed yet?" You ask.

"Oh, it'll be ready next week. I've got a guy who owes me a favor, so he'll do it free of charge. But I can drive you until then, if you like." Eddie says with the cigarette between his lips. He pulls the pack from his jacket pocket, gesturing it at you to offer you one.

"Oh, thanks." You grab a cigarette from the box, holding it between your fingers. Eddie pulls out his lighter, igniting it. You put the cigarette to your lips, leaning into the flame. You take a long drag, letting the smoke flow back out casually. He just stares at you as he puts the pack and lighter away. "And yeah, I guess you can be my ride." A sly smile spreads on your lips as you speak. He chokes on the drag he’s inhaling, your phrasing taking him by surprise. You playfully smack his chest and laugh. "Not like that, you pervert. You can drive me to school, as long as it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all, princess." He says, clearing his throat. "But I think you know full well what you're doing. It's cute, but very dangerous." His eyes have changed, they seem darker now. His free hand is stroking your arm suggestively, and it makes your skin tingle. You shudder at the sensation, and he smirks.

"And what exactly do you think I'm doing?" You ask, playing dumb. You can't help your heart starting to race, though, or your voice becoming unsteady. You can't stop staring into his eyes, they almost hypnotize you.

"I think you're being a tease, Y/N." He speaks to you lowly now, his tone deep and seductive. His lips come very close to yours as he speaks. "Now, I like you. And you seem to like me, too. All I'm saying is that two can play at your little game, and I always win." Eddie leans in just a little bit more, and you instinctively move to close the gap. Your eyes close as you expect to make contact with him. But before your lips can meet, Eddie moves his head back. You stumble forward in the newly empty space. Eddie laughs as you open your eyes, blushing when you realize he faked you out. "Something wrong, princess?" He teases, feigning ignorance to what he just did.

"You-" Your mouth moves but no words seem to form. You can't believe he’d play you for a fool like that. If it's a game he wants, it's a game he'll get. "You're an ass. You know that?" Is all you can manage to say. You scoot away from him slightly, crossing your arms. You glare at him, and he's just grinning like the devil. You take another drag, huffing the smoke out as you exhale.

"What? Giving up already?" He moves closer, laughing in amusement.

"What exactly are you proposing, Munson? Are you challenging me like the child you are?" You question him, cocking an eyebrow. You're annoyed, but admittedly very interested in playing with him.

"Hey, if anyone's the child here, it's you. You're the one getting all pissy. But yes, I am indeed offering you a challenge. Which you totally started, by the way." He's far too entertained for your liking, and you roll your eyes. "Come on, you mean to tell me you aren't dying to know which of us would cave in to lust first? I saw you staring at my ass when I went in the store earlier. Those automatic doors sure are reflective, sweetheart." You gasp, blushing at the fact that he did see you, and didn't say anything this whole time.

"Oh, you're one to talk, Eddie! You literally honked at me as you watched MY ass walk into school!" You poke a finger into his chest roughly. "I don't think you're as controlled as you claim you are. You know what? You're on! And when I win, you'll be sorry."

He's unphased by your words, his expression staying the same. "And when I win, you'll be mine." He whispers, and he plants a kiss on your neck. You tense at the contact, the back of your head hitting the van. "Watch your head there, Y/N. Don't need a concussion ruining our fun, do we?" He laughs, flicking his spent cigarette away. You take the last drag of yours, blowing the smoke in his face. You stomp the butt out on the pavement, and wordlessly get into the passenger side. Eddie runs around the other side, climbing into his seat. "Before we head to your place, I gotta pick up a couple members of the club. Ian and James Tanner. I'm sure you've met them before. Then we have to make a snack run, per Dustin's request. If you don't mind helping, I'd highly appreciate it." He reaches over nonchalantly to place his hand just above your knee.

You stare at his hand, feeling your body start to heat up. You're already frazzled and he's barely touched you. You meet his gaze, shocked to see him looking cool as a cucumber. Eddie smiles at you innocently as his hand travels further up to your thigh. It stays there, squeezing the flesh, and you struggle to speak. "Y-Yeah. I can help, no problem." You smile weakly. Dammit, he’s way too good at this. You'll be lucky to last until you get home at the rate he's going.

"Sounds like a plan, sweetheart." He lets go of your thigh, turning to face the steering wheel. He shifts the van into gear, pulling out of the lot a bit too fast. He may not show it on the outside, but he's just as revved up as you are. He carelessly swerves and makes turns at the wrong times. Luckily he hasn't caused an accident by the time you reach the Tanner house.

It's a small house with a broken front window. Weeds are overgrown in the yard, and a yapping chihuahua runs towards the van. Two boys are sitting on the front stoop, and they wave as you pull into the driveway. You recognize them, Dustin has had them over for sleepovers before as they're in the same grade. Ian and James are identical twins, and they’re very kind and polite. They aren't well off by any means, but they never show it. The boys stand up in unison, quickly moving to the back of the van. They climb in the double doors, tossing heavy backpacks down. A woman who appears to be their mother waves from the screen door, opening it slightly to let the dog inside. Eddie waves back, smiling at her.

"Hey, Y/N." Ian and James say simultaneously as they settle in just before Eddie peels away from their humble home.

"Hello, boys. You excited for your big campaign?" You crane your neck to speak to the boys. You make a point to be extra nice to Dustin's friends, they usually need it more than most.

"Hell yeah!" Ian chirps. James nods in agreement.

"I bet. Dusty won't shut up about it, so much so that he convinced me to sit in and watch. And maybe next time I'll join you in playing." You look at Eddie, who's eyebrow cocks at your suggestion. "Oh, I hope that's okay, Eddie." You say as you bat your eyelashes at him.

"Of course, Y/N. Who am I to deny such a pretty girl, hm?" His eyes blaze with glee, he’ll certainly use this idea against you in your little bet.

"Shit." You mutter under your breath.

"What was that, princess?" Eddie inquires. He doesn't miss a damn thing, does he? You can't help but marvel at him, tonight is sure to be interesting.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." You say plainly. You turn to gaze out the window, you don't dare look in his direction. He plays nice for the remainder of the drive to the store, blasting Metallica on the stereo. You let yourself space out, trying to cool off. How does he manage to be so sexy while doing so little? You suddenly feel Eddie shaking your shoulder to get your attention.

"Hey, space cadet. It's time to shop, let's go." Eddie massages your shoulder slightly, teasing you again. It shouldn't be making your skin light on fire, but somehow it does. You do your best to hold back a moan, biting your lip. Eddie grins at you, eating up any reaction you give him. You all exit the van, walking into the store in pairs. The twins in front, you and Eddie behind. You quickly separate from the group, some distance could help you keep calm. But Eddie has other ideas. You grab a handbasket and make a beeline for the chips, and stand for a bit deciding between Classic or BBQ. Eddie walks behind you, dragging his hand across your back as he goes past. You gasp, whipping your head to look at him. "Something the matter, Y/N?" He asks innocently.

"Nope. All good." You answer, acting neutral. You pick the BBQ chips and put them in your basket. You pretend to look at liters of soda on the other side as you walk, stopping right behind him. You bring your hand up to his head, digging your fingers into his hair. You scratch on his scalp real slow, and he moans. Ha! Point: Y/N. You stop shortly after, moving your hand away. He turns around to look at you, but your back is turned now. You act like you don't even notice him, picking up a couple large bottles of Mountain Dew. Once they're secure in your basket, you feel Eddie smack your ass. Hard. You yelp in surprise, almost dropping the basket to the floor. Point: Eddie.

"Shhh, better keep quiet. We don't want the kiddos to know what we're up to." He whispers into your ear, making you shudder. Eddie's standing very close behind you, his body heat radiating from him. You decide to get even by backing yourself into him, making sure your ass rubs right over his crotch. He whimpers at the contact. Point: Y/N. "Fuck, you don't play fair, do you?" He purrs. He moves your hair to the side, exposing your neck. He then proceeds to lick the entire length of it, all the way to your jaw.

"Jesus, Eddie. How are you so fucking hot?" You say with a lustful sigh, proud of yourself for not moaning. Although, the feeling of his warm tongue is quickly getting you wet.

"Practice, I guess. And that sexy little sigh you let out still counts, princess." Dammit. Point: Eddie. You separate yourself from him again, walking to the next aisle. Rows of shiny candy bars glisten in front of you. You make sure to get some 3 Musketeers, Dustin's favorite. You're about to grab your own favorite, when Eddie suddenly appears beside you. He grips your wrist, stopping your movement. You try to resist, but he's stronger than you. He brings your wrist up to his lips, kissing it while looking in your eyes. You stare at him, mouth agape as he kisses your arm all the way to the inside of your elbow.

You're feeling ridiculously warm in here, maybe the AC is busted. Your eyes are wide, your chest rising and falling quicker than usual. You give no other reaction, much to Eddie's dismay. He drops your arm, picking out a Hershey bar. He lets it fall into your basket. "My favorite." He says simply, and turns to walk away from you. You just stand in place, amazed at his behavior. One second, he's licking and kissing you. The next, it's like nothing ever happened. You realize now you need to up your game. But not here, this round is definitely ending in a tie. Plus, it’s only a matter of time before either the twins or an employee catches you. And you can't have that.

You eventually make your way up to the checkout, meeting the others in line. You take a moment to see what everyone else picked as the items are placed on the conveyor belt. There's quite a variety, Twizzlers, Crunch Bars, New Coke, A&W, tortilla chips and salsa, Cheetos, the items you chose, and a few other similar choices. But at the very end, are Eddie's picks. A couple six-packs of beer, a carton of cigarettes, and condoms. Fucking condoms. This man is so confident you'll put out, he isn't even embarrassed to buy them in front of you. Cocky bastard.

You lean over to speak into his ear, pulling his locks aside. "If you think you're gonna lay me that easily, you've got another thing coming." And you slyly bite his earlobe, returning to your original position afterwards. He gasps, not expecting you to make such a bold move in front of the kids, or the cashier. Nobody seems to notice, but his cheeks burn with sudden shyness. You can't help giggling at his reaction. He's very cute when he does that. He breathes out heavily, composing himself.

"That'll be $32.45, sir." The cashier says once everything has been rung up. The twins make quick work of bagging everything up while Eddie pulls out his wallet. He gives the cashier two twenties, and clumsily shoves the change he receives into his pocket.

"Thanks, man." Eddie says, going to the end of the line to grab a couple of the bags. "Alright, let's go home, little demons!" He says to the boys, and they all walk out ahead of you while shoving each other around playfully. There's one bag left on the end, the one with Eddie's special items in it. You grab it, running after them to the van. Everyone gets settled in with all the goodies, and Eddie drives to your house.

Once you arrive, Eddie turns to the twins. "Hey guys, why don't you take the bags in for us, okay? We'll be there in a minute." He smiles at them, and they nod while grabbing all the bags besides the one you still had in your hands. They run to your front door like maniacs, and you see Dustin letting them inside after they ring the doorbell. You notice a couple bikes outside in the yard, the Sinclairs have already arrived. You look at Eddie, noticing him staring at you.

"What's up, Eds?" You ask.

"Nothin’, just...thinking." He replies with a suspicious grin. Eddie takes your hands in his, lifting them to his lips to kiss them.

"What about?" You can tell he's up to something.

"About how I'm gonna make you pay for that stunt you pulled at the checkout. It was brave, but it was also a big mistake. I was holding back before, Y/N. I can do so much worse than that." He chuckles darkly. Your eyes widen, you've really done it now. "Just you wait and see, princess. By the end of the night, you'll be begging me to fuck you." He gives you a shit-eating grin, and drops your hands. He gets out of the van without another word, leaving you dumbstruck. You struggle to gather your thoughts, but all you can think is how incredibly turned on you are.

Once you're able to think straight, you grab your belongings and run to the house. You push open the door to see everyone bustling around to set up the game. A couple folding tables from the attic are standing in your living room, and Eddie makes it his mission to put everything in its perfect place. Dustin and the Sinclairs are helping him, listening to his barked orders. James and Ian are in the kitchen, putting drinks in the refrigerator and dumping the snacks onto the counter. You take the beer from Eddie's bag to add to the fridge, and then stop in your room to put your schoolbag away. You decide to keep Eddie's other items in your room, out of sight from your nosy mother. You turn to leave, and you find Mom standing before you with her arms crossed.

"Are you okay, Y/N? You didn't come home after classes like you said. Wait, what are those?!" She points at your bandages, suddenly very worried.

"Mom, it's nothing. I was on the way to school and I tried to cross an intersection too late. Eddie ended up hitting me and I fell and scraped my hands and knees." You try to keep her calm, she always spirals any time you or Dustin get so much as a paper cut.

"He did what!? And you came back here with him? Why didn't you call me?" She frantically bombards you with questions.

"Mom, I promise it's okay. He stopped and helped me, he got the bandages for me and cleaned me up. It was my fault, I went in the road when I shouldn't have. And he feels really bad about it, so, please don't bring it up. My bike did get a bit damaged, but he took it to a shop to get fixed. And he's going to drive me until it's ready, okay? Just calm down." You barely stop to take a breath, doing everything you can to keep her from throwing Eddie out on his ass.

"You can't be careless like that, Y/N. You could've been seriously hurt, or even killed! And I can't lose you, sugarpuff." Mom has called you sugarpuff ever since you were five. You don't know where the name came from, but you always liked it. She has tears forming in her eyes, and she pulls you into a suffocating hug. "You and Dusty are all I have. If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do." You can't help but feel a bit guilty. You put your life at risk, and for what? To not be late to class one time? You hug her tight, letting her know you understand how she feels. You're her child, and you always will be.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Really, I didn't mean to make you upset. I won't be so careless again, okay? But I should go help with the campaign. I'm watching them play tonight." She lets you go when she hears that last part, looking at you oddly.

"Really? Hmm, interesting." She gives you a knowing look. Dammit, you are gonna murder Dustin for his loose lips. "Well, have fun, sugarpuff. And don't do anything I wouldn't do." You gasp, surprised that your own mother would be condoning you potentially being intimate with a certain someone who’s currently shouting about dice in the living room. She scoffs at you. "Don't be so prudish, Y/N. You're a grown woman, right? Go get 'em." She says with a laugh, going to her room to let you and the club be. She might pop out every so often for a snack or the bathroom, but she knows not to intrude when you or Dustin have company. She may be pushy sometimes, but she tries her hardest to give you space where it’s needed.

"Hey." You hear Eddie whisper from behind you, making you jump. You whip around to face him, his body very close to yours. "We're just about ready now. You wanna come sit next to me, princess?" He asks while leaning even closer to you. You wait to see what move he's going to make, watching his hand raise and aim for your chest. You start breathing heavily, anticipating his touch. He looks at you with eyes of fire, wetting his suddenly dry lips. You want him to touch you so badly, you wish he'd just do it already. You close your eyes, waiting expectantly. "Boop." You feel his finger on the tip of your nose, and your eyes snap open. Eddie fakes you out yet again, and you can't help the frustrated sigh that falls from your lips. "Aww, were you expecting something else? Seems like you'll break soon enough. Come on, it's game time." He's so smug about his effect on you, rubbing it in your face. He puts his hand out for you to take, and you do. The feeling of his warm skin on yours is electric.

You walk together down the hall, and into the living room. He leads you over to the head of the table, and you take the seat beside his. The others have already taken their places, and they notice you and Eddie holding hands. Once you're both seated, he lets your hand go, and you can't help quietly whining at the loss. He smirks at you, his moves on you working exactly as planned. Or so he thinks. You make a quick move to scoot your chair as close to him as possible. He raises a warning eyebrow at you, and you just smile at him innocently.

"Alright, everybody. Let's get this shit started." Eddie announces. "And for anyone out of the loop, the lovely Y/N will be sitting in tonight. And she might even be joining our little club." Everyone nods in approval, eager to get things moving. You watch Eddie closely as he starts the campaign, taking in how theatrical he is while he leads the story. His eyes shine bright, and his voice morphs into different characters. You can't help giggling when his voice goes high to play the women. You glance around the table, taking in how everyone plays so well together.

You do your best to pay attention to how everything works. Turns, skills, weapons, the dice, it’s a lot to take in. But it’s easy to see why everyone here enjoys playing so much. Outside of all the math and note-taking, it’s an adventure. And you can't wait to join the next one. Eddie looks over at you often during the game, though only for a moment. He's very passionate and focused when it comes to D&D. You glance at your watch, shocked to see three hours have already passed. You decide now is your time to make moves on him. The table blocks the view of your hands from the others, and you bring your right hand to Eddie's thigh. He stumbles over his words, his body tensing up under your touch. His eyes meet yours as he continues to speak, trying to keep the rest of the table oblivious to what you're doing.

Your hand slowly goes further, higher up his thigh. Eddie's heart begins to race, and he almost shouts his next sentence when you finally reach his crotch. His hand bangs on the table, causing the others to jump. "You alright there, Eddie?" Dustin asks. Everyone's eyes move to their dungeon master, watching him closely.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just uh...I think we all need a small break." He says while narrowing his eyes at you. Everyone voices agreement, and stands from the table. Dustin heads for the bathroom, and the others go to the kitchen for more snacks. You and Eddie are the only ones still seated, and your hand is still between his legs. You feel his dick hardening just beneath your fingers, and you decide to palm him through his jeans. He moans, gripping your wrist. Point: Y/N. "Christ, you're really asking for it, aren't you? I was gonna play nice for a bit longer. But now you've pushed this past the point of no return." He chuckles as he places his hand over yours, squeezing roughly. You look in his eyes with a sly smile on your face as you continue to grope him. His eyes bore into you with lust, the room igniting around the both of you.

"Do your worst, Munson. I can't imagine you can take much more of this. You talk a big game, but your cock tells me everything I need to know." You let him out of your grip, causing him to whine. He tries to stifle it, but you know you're very close to winning the whole thing. Sure, you're playing a little dirty. But he’s so sure he'll beat you, so smug about it. You can't stand to let him win.

After a few minutes, the others return to the table. Eddie proceeds with the adventure, giving his full attention to everyone except you. He isn't even glancing in your direction anymore, and it's driving you mad. You mentally beg him to look in your direction, but he doesn't answer your plea. This fucker is working his magic on you, making you desperate for anything he’s willing to give you. You try to hide your frustration, but your knee impulsively bobs up and down rapidly. Eddie only takes notice because his own knee is flush against yours. He finally gives you the attention you've been craving. A look that acknowledges your wanting, while also teasing you for it. He knows precisely how his methods are affecting you, putting his hand on your knee to make it stop bouncing. You hold back a moan, not wanting to give yourself away.

Eddie winks at you, and his own hand moves slowly up your leg. He stops at your thigh, holding his hand there. Your heart is pounding, and your panties are becoming increasingly wet the more he touches you. You're panting slightly, looking in his eyes to beg him for more. He gives you a subtle nod, while still directing the group in the campaign perfectly. Nobody notices what’s going on, because Eddie is more than capable of multitasking. He makes a point to show you just how well he can focus on two things at once. His hand migrates to the waistband of your jeans, undoing the button, and pulling the zipper down. Once your pants are open, he slips his hand inside. His eyes are not on you while he does this, he makes sure to distract everyone from what he's doing to you.

You gasp when Eddie strokes your clit over your panties, but you cover it with a cough. A few eyes move towards you, but you wave them away, blaming allergies. The attention once again returns to Eddie. His hand continues to stroke you over your underwear, he can feel the thin material moistening under his fingertip. Your skin starts to burn, your blood boiling in your veins. He goes under your panties now, running his fingers through your slick folds. You hold back your moans, biting your lip. You place an elbow on the table, holding your head in your palm to disguise your mouth with subtlety.

His fingers continue to stroke you, rubbing your clit in persistent circles. Your cunt is consistently dripping into your jeans, his touches tying a large knot in your belly. He manages to insert a finger into your pussy, which causes your knee to hit the underside of the table. Everyone looks at you, including Eddie. "Careful, Y/N. You already hurt your knee once today, take it easy." He smirks.

"Sorry, won't happen again. Continue." You struggle to get the words out. Your knee stings from your wound, but the pleasure Eddie continues to give you while acting like nothing is happening makes your head spin. His finger starts curling inside you, slow and steady to not make too much noise.

You're doing everything you can to keep control of your sounds and movements. You have to act natural, the game must go on unnoticed. Eddie adds a second finger, which makes you want to scream. You want to give in, to tackle him to the ground so you can have your way with him. You don't even care about everybody else in the room. You want to ride him, right here and right now. You feel the knot growing tighter and tighter, threatening to snap. Your walls flutter around Eddie's fingers. When he realizes you're just about to cum, he pulls away. Your high runs for the hills, leaving you unsatisfied. You groan loudly, scowling at Eddie.

"Are you alright, Y/N? You're acting weirder than usual." Erica asks.

"Erica! Don't be rude." Lucas scolds her.

"What? It's just the facts! She's been acting strange for hours. what gives?" Erica crosses her arms, waiting to hear an explanation.

Once again, everyone's eyes are on you. You blush madly, stuttering. "I'm一" You glance at Eddie, who offers no help, only a self-congratulatory grin. Damn him, damn him and this stupid bet. You quickly close your jeans as you come up with a reason to leave. "I just...don't feel well. All this junk food isn't agreeing with me. I'll stop interrupting you guys. Sorry. Goodnight." You bolt out of your chair and run to the safety of your bedroom. You slam the door behind you, your back leaning against it.

You start to cry, feeling so embarrassed. You're sure the kids bought your story, but it was so humiliating. To have Eddie touching you like that, with everyone in the room. Sure, you started it, but it wasn't like you had his dick out under the table. Not only that, he denied you in order to get a reaction, drawing attention to you over something so private. You decide to just stay in your room for the rest of the weekend, hiding from everybody. Especially Eddie.

A few hours pass, you're still in front of your door crying. You're on the floor now, and you hear everyone calling it a night. Dustin says goodnight to you through the door, hoping you feel better soon. He goes to his room, shutting the door. The others have taken the couch or have sleeping bags on the floor. Eddie usually sleeps in his van. You think it might be safe to go pee before bed, when you hear a light knocking on the door.

"Y/N, can I come in?" It's Eddie. Of course, he wanted to gloat, right? Shove it in your face that he got the best of you. "I just want to talk. Please?"

Part 1.3: I Think We’re Alone Now

"Please let me in?” He sounds genuinely worried. You sigh and wipe your eyes, standing up to open the door. You let him in, but turn away from him to slump onto your bed. You lay down, facing the wall. Eddie closes the door behind him, sitting on the end of the bed. "Are you alright, Y/N?" He asks quietly, looking down at his hands.

"What do you think?" You snip.

"I didn't mean to upset you, princess. I一" He touches your ankle, but you tug it away.

"Don't call me that! You embarrassed me in front of the Sinclairs, the Tanners, my own brother! Was winning really worth making a fool out of me?" You say through gritted teeth.

"Y/N, I promise that wasn't my intention. What I did was stupid, and wrong. I just...I got caught up in the game. I went too far, and I'm sorry." You hear the remorse in his voice, he didn't want to hurt you. It was quite the opposite, he wanted to have fun and make you feel good. "If you want me to, I can leave right now. I’ll pick the twins up in the morning, postpone the campaign until we can host it somewhere else. I’ll even twist the arm of the repair guy to fix your bike tomorrow so you don't have to see me again."

You take his efforts to do right by you into consideration. He'd go to all that trouble to make you comfortable, regardless of how he feels about you. He clearly cares about you, he just got carried away. Your heart swells at his gesture. You just can't stay mad at him no matter how hard you try. You groan in defeat, sitting up and scooting to the end of the bed to face him. "No, you don't have to go. But let's make it a rule to not finger me in front of other people like that, okay? And you're on thin ice, metalhead."

"You got it. Cross my heart and hope to die." He says, making an 'X' on his chest with his finger. He gazes at you, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "So, everyone else is asleep. You wanna have a beer and a smoke outside with me?" He asks, holding his hand out to you.

"I thought you'd never ask, Munson." You smile, taking his hand. You open the door as quietly as possible, trying your best to not make any noise. Eddie follows close behind you, still holding your hand. You stop in the kitchen to grab a six-pack of beer from the fridge, then you tiptoe your way around everyone's sleeping bags. You finally reach the front door, not bothering to put on shoes. You turn the knob, trying to keep the door from squeaking on its hinges. You both slip out into the night, the cool night air tickling your skin. Eddie left his jackets inside, so you both shiver slightly.

Eddie plops down in the dewy grass of your front lawn, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. "Come here, princess." You do as he asks, sitting cross-legged like him. Your knee touches his as you sit closely to him. You set down the beers, and Eddie grabs one out of the pack. He pulls out a bottle-opener, popping off the top. He hands it to you "Ladies first." He winks at you, pulling out another bottle for himself. You chug half of it down instantly, burping loudly after you swallow. "Hmm, maybe not then." Eddie quips, taking a swig from his own beer.

"Sorry, I was just really thirsty." You blush, giggling at your own rudeness. Eddie laughs too, pulling out his cigarettes. He takes two out of the box, holding one up to your lips. You take it in your mouth, and he lights it, looking deep into your eyes. The flame casts a yellow glow on his face, highlighting his beautiful features. He moves the lighter away from you to light his own cigarette. You inhale from yours deeply, laying down in the grass before you exhale. You stare up at the night sky, taking in the shining stars and full moon. There aren't any clouds tonight, so everything is crystal clear. He copies you, putting his shoulder against yours.

"Damn, what a view!" Eddie exclaims, gesturing at the sky dramatically with his hands. You both smoke silently for a bit, your hands lacing together without realizing it. When you've reached the end of your cigarette, you swipe it roughly onto the ground to put it out before flicking it away. Eddie does the same before speaking again. "You know what a better view than this is, though?" He asks, glancing at you.

"Nope. But you can tell me if you like." You tease him, letting his hand go so you can lay on your side. You rest your head on your left arm, your right going to Eddie's chest. He sighs softly as your fingers lazily stroke him over his shirt.

"It's you, Y/N. You're more beautiful than all the stars, all the planets. All the galaxies in the universe couldn't compare to you." He says with sincerity. He turns his head to look at you, his face carrying a soft expression.

"You are being so cheesy right now." You scoff in disbelief. His smile drops a little, looking sad. "No, I like it, a lot. It's just a different side of you I didn't expect."

"I think you'll find I'm just full of surprises, Y/N." He mirrors your position, a small smile forming on his lips. You move your body closer to his, pressing yourself flush against him. Your hand cups his cheek, and you're not feeling the cold air anymore. The atmosphere has been set ablaze, the both of you breathing heavily. It's like you're running low on oxygen.

Your lips are just a whisper away from his, and you can't stop staring at them. They look so soft and plush, and you're reminded of your late-night thoughts about how they might taste. You close the gap, pushing your mouth onto his gently. You both moan at the contact, and you bite his bottom lip. He gasps, allowing your tongue access to tangle with his. You moan again when you confirm your fantasies of him. He does taste like tobacco, and beer. But there's an underlying flavor of chocolate, the Hershey bar he plopped into your handbasket at the store.

Your hands tangle into Eddie's hair, tugging it roughly. He groans, flipping you both over so you're straddling him. His hands hug the curves of your ass, and he squeezes the flesh under his fingers through your jeans. You moan into his mouth, grinding your hips down onto him. You feel his dick hardening beneath you, positioned right under your cunt. You're getting soaked again, which drives you to keep moving on him. It feels so good, but you want more. "Eddie, someone might see us out here and call the cops. Let's go back to my room, okay?" You whisper as you release his lips from yours.

"Sure thing, baby. To be continued." He jokes. You giggle playfully and move off of him. You gather the open beers back into the pack, and you hold out a hand to help Eddie off the ground. He takes it, standing up next to you. He pulls you back to him by the waist, smashing his lips on yours hungrily. It ends as soon as it starts though, leaving you breathless. Eddie leads you inside with his arm around your waist. You sneak back into the house, following the same route you took to leave.

You stumble backwards into your room, pulling Eddie by his shirt. He kicks the door shut behind him, luckily it doesn't slam too hard. You set the beers down on your dresser, and then you're being pushed down onto your bed by him. You fall back onto the pillows, bouncing slightly when you make contact. He climbs on top of you, his knees on either side of yours. You gaze up at him from your pillow, his long locks hanging down around his face. He stares back at you, smirking as always. He slowly lowers his lips onto yours once more, languid and passionate this time. You moan as his hand gropes your tits over your shirt. You grip his hair again as he kisses you, tugging even harder this time. He groans louder than before, breaking away.

"Careful, babydoll. Don't push my buttons too much, or who knows what I'll do." He says darkly. His mouth moves to your neck, where he licks you the same as he did to you earlier today.

"God, Eddie. You're so fucking hot." You exhale lustfully, throwing your head back as he marks hickies on you.

"You're not so bad yourself, Y/N." He sits on his knees to remove his shirt. As he pulls it over his head, you can't help staring at his body. He's slim, but a little bit toned. And his tattoos suit him so well. You bite your lip as you do your best to memorize him for your future late-night thoughts. "You like what you see?" He tilts his head at you. You just nod, wide-eyed. You take off your t-shirt and your bra, exposing your breasts to him. His breath catches in his throat when he gets a good look at you. "Fuck, you're gorgeous." He murmurs, staring at you in awe.

"C’mere." You plead, pulling him down to you by his belt buckle. Your hands roam Eddie's back, scratching your nails into his skin. He moans as he begins to kiss your chest. His mouth leaves a trail of hickies all over your tits. You whimper as he makes each one, gasping when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. "Eddie…" You moan, and he stops sucking on your tit, peering down at you.

"You make such pretty noises, Y/N." He says with a grin before returning to his task. He moves on to your other breast, gently biting down on your sensitive bud.

"Jesus, fuck." You can't help all the moans and curses that fall from your mouth, everything he does feels like magic. Your sounds feed Eddie's fire, making his cock twitch in his jeans.

"You're such a good little slut for me. Reacting to every touch I give you." He purrs at you as his mouth travels further down your body. You moan at his words, so filthy and arousing at the same time. "You like when I call you that, princess?" He asks, noting your eyes blown wide with desire.

"Yes." You manage to choke out a reply as his lips leave a trail of kisses down your torso until he reaches your jeans. Everything he does is unbearably sexy, it stirs a primal fire inside you. No other man has come close to making you feel so simultaneously in and out of control. You want him to ruin you, to do anything and everything he wants to you.

"Good girl." He replies, his hands undoing your jeans for the second time tonight. He pulls them off your legs, tossing them aside. His hands spread your legs for him, and a grin forms across his mouth when he sees the dark spot on your panties. "So wet for me already?" His hand strokes you over the thin fabric, and your hips buck off the bed impulsively as you moan. Eddie holds you down with his other hand. "Relax, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good." He slips your panties off slowly, and takes a long look at your drenched pussy. "Fuck, you're so beautiful, Y/N." His eyes meet yours, finding you panting as you await his next move. His fingers feel your slick folds, brushing over your clit. You moan loudly, forming fists as you grip the blanket beneath you. He keeps eye contact with you as he inserts a finger into your dripping cunt. Your mouth falls open, but barely any sound comes out. He starts pumping in and out of you, curling just so to hit your sweetspot with ease.

"Oh, Eddie…go faster, please..." You can't help sounding needy as you whine for him to do more. You feel a familiar knot building inside of you, winding tighter with every stroke of Eddie's finger inside of you.

"Anything you want, angel." He does as you ask, causing more moans and calls of his name to spill from you. He adds another finger, and you arch your back. Your body is slowly sheened in sweat, and Eddie keeps praising you. "You're doing so well, princess. Such a good girl for me." He removes his fingers, and you whine at the loss. But he quickly starts licking your clit with his tongue. He paints your cunt with long stripes, occasionally inserting his tongue into your entrance. He moans at how sweet you taste, vibrations roaming through your center. "You taste so good, babe." He continues to flick his tongue on you, expertly moving you closer to the edge.

"Oh, shit. I'm so close, make me cum. Please." Waves of pleasure are crashing over you, your whole body is fizzing. The knot inside you wants so badly to snap, to release the built up pressure you've been feeling all day.

"That's a good little slut, cum for me." He says before sucking your clit into his mouth. It feels unbelievable, and you finally sense yourself letting go.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You cry out, almost screaming. Your orgasm rips through you, radiating from your pussy to all of your extremities. Your head feels light, and stars fill your vision. Your legs shake uncontrollably, but Eddie holds you in place. His mouth continues to work against your cunt as your high subsides. Your clit is sparking, and his mouth on you is overstimulating. "Eds, that's enough. Please, it's too much." You pant as you push his head away.

"Sorry, angel. I'll let you cool down." He coos, caressing your legs lovingly. He stands, still shirtless, and goes to the dresser to grab the opened beer. He hands you your bottle, and you sit up to sip on it. The liquid cools you from the inside out, calming the burning flames. Eddie sits at the edge of the bed, his back turned to you as he drinks. You crawl across the bed to sit beside him, putting your free hand on his thigh. He tenses slightly, not expecting your touch. "Hey there, beautiful." He says while smiling at you, looking you up and down. You're still naked, but you don't feel exposed. Eddie’s presence makes you comfortable, you could do anything around him and not feel nervous about it.

"Hey." You reply simply. You finish off your beer, setting the empty bottle on the carpet. Eddie's still holding his while you turn yourself toward him. You lean forward, moving his long hair away from his neck. You kneel to plant a few open-mouthed kisses on his throat. He tilts his head to give you better access, moaning whenever you put your lips on him. Your right hand travels down his chest, caressing his warm skin on the way to his crotch. You ghost over his erection, his breath hitching. You palm him through his jeans, his cock growing harder as you grope him.

"Shit, Y/N." He groans out, his head falling back slightly. You slide off the bed, positioning yourself on your knees between Eddie's legs. You continue to stroke him, kissing his chest and stomach repeatedly. He moans over and over as you touch him, cursing and saying your name, calling you a good girl. He's become putty in your hands.

"You make pretty noises too. It's very sexy." You whisper in his ear, reaching for his belt. You unbuckle it, and pull his jeans off. He's only in his boxers now, his erection forming a tent in the thin cloth. You run your tongue up his length over the fabric, and he moans loudly.

"Jesus." His hands grip the edge of the mattress, the knuckles turning white. You smile at him seductively, reaching for his waistband. You yank off his underwear, and waste no time taking hold of his cock. You take all of him in your mouth, gagging as he hits the back of your throat. His hips buck into your face from the feeling of your wet mouth on him. Your eyes start to water as you bob your head up and down on him. You swirl your tongue around his length as you work, and Eddie can't stop groaning. Every sound makes your pussy wetter, him calling out your name is music to your ears. "Keep going, baby. You're a fuckin’ goddess at giving head." He chuckles slightly, throwing his head back. A couple drips of sweat run down his face, his eyes screwed shut as he focuses on how hot and wet your mouth is. He's panting like a dog, feeling himself growing closer to the edge.

His balls tighten in your hand as you massage them. He's very close, you take this as a sign to go even deeper and faster. You gag repeatedly on him, moving your lips and tongue at a punishing pace. Tears run down your cheeks, blurring your vision. You stop only for a moment to encourage him. "That's it. Be a good boy and cum for me." You plunge your mouth as far as it can go onto his dick, pulling out every move in your playbook, sealing his fate.

"Fuck, gonna cum..." He chokes out as his high overtakes him. He moans so loud, you're worried he'll wake everybody up. His mouth is open wide, and he falls backwards onto the bed as his load shoots down your throat. You swallow every last drop, it tastes so fucking good. He's practically gasping for air, his arms laying above his head. You release him with a pop, and take in the sight before you. Eddie's so pretty like this, laying on your bed with his cock out, shiny with sweat. His hair matted to his face from the moisture, his chest rising and falling rapidly. A wave of lust washes over you to see the effect you've had on him.

He takes a moment to compose himself before sitting up. He's still panting a little, but he looks at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. "C’mere, princess." He motions for you to sit on his lap. You do so, straddling him on the edge of the bed. His dick rests against your stomach, already getting hard again. He wraps his arms around your waist, and yours rest around his neck. You kiss him again, and he reciprocates. Your mouths move together in sync, and you feel something different between you now. This moment isn't just about sex, you think you really like Eddie. You might even be falling in love with him. And given the way he's keeping up with you, maybe he’s falling in love with you ,too.

Despite all these strong emotions brewing between the two of you, you still want Eddie to take you in every way possible. "Eddie?" You ask, breaking the kiss. Your lips feel bruised, and you gaze deep into his eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He says quietly, meeting your eyes. He's genuinely interested in what you have to say.

"I want you." You whisper, somehow shy about admitting this to him.

"I want you too, Y/N. So much, you have no idea." He replies softly, and his hand cups your cheek. You move yourself closer to him, rubbing his dick between your folds. You moan in unison at the sensation, the air lighting on fire once again. Eddie grabs your ass, leading your hips to continue moving against him. The friction is like pure electricity, shooting currents of ecstasy through your bodies. "Can I fuck you, Y/N?" Eddie asks, a pleading look in his eyes. He's so needy for you.

"Yes, Eddie. Please, take me any way you want." You practically beg him.

He grasps his cock, teasing your entrance a few more times, spreading your arousal. He stops for a moment. "Wait, let me get a condom." He says, tapping your thigh to get off of him. You shake your head, and he looks at you, confused.

"I'm on the pill, Eds. We can still use one if you want, but I trust you."

"That's fine by me. If you're good to go, then so am I." He kisses you deeply, getting himself ready to enter you. You instinctively lift yourself up so he can position himself, and you slowly sink down onto his dick. He fills you to the brim, the perfect size to knock the air from your lungs as you take all of him. You need a moment to adjust, flexing your walls to teasingly clamp around him. "Shit. Do that again." Eddie whimpers, and you grip his cock with your insides. "Jesus, that's fucking hot." He says breathily. You start to move on him, bouncing up and down at a steady pace. The room fills with the sounds of moans and slapping skin. You aren't putting much effort into being quiet, everything feels too good for you to care about anyone hearing you. Eddie's fingers are digging into your ass cheeks, holding your flesh for dear life. His lips attack your tits as best he can as you continue to ride him. Your head is thrown backward in pure bliss as your climax builds, your hands holding his shoulders tightly. The pleasure bubbles in your belly, growing stronger every time you come down on Eddie's cock. He hits your g-spot perfectly, like he was made for you.

"Fuck, Eddie. I'm getting close again. You feel so good inside me." Every move and every touch makes your head spin, it's getting harder to form coherent thoughts.

"I'm close too, baby. Keep going, be a good little slut. Make a mess all over me." He says, a bit muffled as his face is still buried in your tits. His words spur you on, and you ride him even faster, rolling your hips to hit your spot even better. He assists you, meeting your bounces with his own thrusts up into you. You moan loudly every time he pitches his hips upwards. He's chasing your high, wanting to feel you come undone. "C’mon, angel. Cum on my dick like a good girl." His words make your orgasm explode inside of you. Fireworks go off under your skin. Waves of pleasure crash over you, taking you under.

"Oh god, fuck!" You almost scream, curses and exclamations flowing from you incoherently. Your walls clamp down, milking Eddie's cock. He groans, his own orgasm overtaking him. He calls out your name, bucking his hips uncontrollably into your cunt. His movements prolong your high, a burst of juices leaking out of you. He feels the fluid rush over his dick, spilling out onto the floor and the bed. It makes him groan, the sensation is nothing he's ever felt before. He’s already thinking of how many other ways he can make you cum like this in the future. Your legs shake violently, and you hold yourself against Eddie as hard as you can to keep from falling. You can't stop shaking for a good while as the strongest orgasm of your life takes what seems like forever to subside.

You eventually collapse against his chest, gulping in air like a fish out of water. Eddie's arms wrap around you, a hand stroking your damp hair. "You okay, Y/N?" He sounds concerned, he's never seen a girl cum so hard before. He's worried that he may have hurt you.

"I'm good, Eds. Really good.” You giggle in satisfaction. “That has to be the best orgasm I've ever had. I didn't even know I could do that. It wasn't weird, was it?" You ask, referring to you squirting on him. You’re a bit nervous that you’ve grossed him out.

"What? Fuck no! That was one of the hottest things I've ever seen. I've heard about women being able to do that, but I’ve never experienced it before.” He explains excitedly, glad to have made this discovery about you. “You are something special. In more ways than just that, Y/N."

"I'll have you know I'm just full of surprises, baby." You give him a quick kiss, smiling like a dope. You realize his dick is still inside you, so you carefully pull yourself off of him. Your mixed release drips out of you and onto his length, you both stare at the sight and moan quietly. You don't want to risk being caught naked in the hall to retrieve a towel, so you drop to your knees in front of Eddie. You lick up every last drop of your cum, causing him to shudder as he stares at you in shock.

"Goddamn, can you get any sexier, Y/N?" His eyes are wide, jaw on the floor as he watches you swallow every last drop.

"You'll just have to wait and find out next time, won't you?" You smirk at him, standing up.

"Next time, huh?" He quirks an eyebrow at you. You realize what you’ve implied, blushing harshly. Eddie rolls his eyes. "Relax, sweetheart. Of course I want to do this again, among other things. It's a date!" He beams at you, and your expression softens. You fail to hold back a yawn, and Eddie follows suit. "It’s gettin’ pretty late. Should we go to bed?" He asks, slipping his boxers back on. He grabs his Hellfire shirt, tossing it to you along with your panties.

"You want me to wear your shirt?" You're surprised he'd offer you something so personal. But you can't help falling for him just a little bit more because of it.

"Of course! Gotta let everyone know you're mine, right?" He bites his lip, nervous about suggesting that you belong to him. Did I overstep and ruin everything?, he wonders when you don’t respond right away.

"Yours, huh? So that makes you mine then, correct?" You can't help teasing him a little, seeing his face burn red is so endearing.

"Yeah. Uh, i-if you want." He stutters over his words, looking down at his hands. He fidgets with his rings, twisting them around his fingers. His knee bounces, signaling his anxiety. You reach down, stilling his leg. You put your hand over his, and use the other to lift his chin up to you with your finger. You stare deep into his eyes, trying to show him how you want this just as much as he does.

"There's no need to be nervous, Eds. I'll happily be yours, I really like you. I might even be falling for you." You kiss him gently on the lips, but only for a moment. "Now, let’s get some rest. Got a big day tomorrow." You give him a caring look, and he kindly returns it, nodding. You put his shirt on over your head, and he smiles wide when he sees you in it. It's a bit big on you, almost long enough to be a dress. But you would look beautiful to him no matter what. You walk over to the bed, pulling up the covers to slip underneath them. Eddie crawls over to join you.

Once you're both under the blanket, Eddie pulls you close to him, spooning you. He peppers light kisses onto the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings to you. When he notices your breathing going steady in preparation for sleep, he stops kissing you. "Goodnight, princess. Sleep well." He says before closing his eyes.

"Goodnight, Eds." You reply, falling into a deep, dreamless slumber.

To be continued…

#fanfiction #smut #eddie munson #stranger things #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #into the fire #hippiegoth97

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