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munson-blurbs · 11 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Summary: A baby shower has you reuniting with Eddie (and Harris). Unbeknownst to Eddie, it's right when he'll need you most--but is he ready to forgive?

Warnings: mention of pregnancy, small allusion to sex, mentions of Grandma Sweetheart's death, mentions of learning disability

WC: 7.4k

Chapter 11/20

Divider credit to @saradika

Mid-January in Hawkins is cold, with temperatures in the mid-30s, but a bundled-up Harris Munson is unfazed. Eddie happily watches as his son practically flies across the empty playground and heads straight for the swingset. In the warmer weather, it’s a coveted spot amongst the kids and usually ends in a battle, but the chill in the air means that Harris doesn’t have to fight for a turn.

“Daddy! Uncle Jeff!” he calls out, voice muffled by the blue scarf securely wrapped around the lower half of his face, “come push me!”

Jeff laughs with a shake of his head as he and Eddie trudge across the frost-covered grass. “You heard the man.”

“Ready to have a little gremlin of your own?” Eddie teases, hoisting Harris onto the swing, making sure his bottom is squared on the rubber surface. He catches a glimpse of the baby swing to his right, and his heart pangs at the memory of Harris being tiny enough to fit in there. “Lemme tell ya, it goes by quick. The days are long but the years are short.”

Jeff just gives a little nod, and Eddie can tell that he doesn’t quite believe him. “I’m serious, man. And all that stuff they say about not knowing what love is until you have kids? Man, I thought that was the biggest crock of shit. Like, of course I know what love is! I love my music, my uncle, even you guys,” he adds with a gleam in his eyes, referring to his former bandmates. “And then Harris was born, and I was like, ‘holy shit, this is what it means to love someone.’” He positions himself behind the swing, giving Harris another big push before stepping aside to let Jeff have a turn.

Jeff looks at him incredulously. Eddie Munson is no stranger to a good rant, but never one this vulnerable. He’s speechless for a moment before clearing his throat. “Th-Thanks, Ed,” he manages, offering the white paper bag he’d picked up on the way to the playground. “Y’still like peanut butter creme donuts, right?”

“Hell yes!” Eddie cheers, pumping his fist in excitement. He reaches into the bag and pulls out the chocolate frosted confection, taking a huge bite triumphantly. “‘M tellin’ ya: Em and Abi’s Gourmet Donuts is the best thing about this town,” he exclaims with a mouthful of peanutty filling.

“Really?” Jeff chuckles, taking a honeycomb donut from the bag. “Better than a certain preschool teacher you may or may not be infatuated with?”

A blush creeps into Eddie’s cheeks, and he hopes he can pass it off as a reaction to the winter winds. “Not in front of…” he trails off, jerking his head in the direction of his son.

“Got it, got it,” Jeff smoothly agrees, but he still presses the topic in a roundabout way. “But, uh, any luck with that?”

“Nope,” Eddie cuts him off. “I’ve just been giving her space like you said, but she hasn’t reached out or asked about tutoring again.” He shrugs as though it doesn’t bother him, but both he and Jeff know that that can’t be further from the truth.

Jeff gives Harris a big push, smiling when he hears the boy’s giggle. “You haven’t called or anything?” he asks.

“Once, after I saw her during drop-off.” Eddie admits, twisting the ring on his pinky finger. “Left a message but she never called back.”

He plays it back in his head, a constant loop that he’d practically memorized before relaying it to your answering machine. As much as he wanted to resolve everything sooner rather than later, he was embarrassingly relieved when he’d heard your outgoing message. Still, the sweetness of your recorded voice was honeyed tea on a dreary day, and he didn’t anticipate his breath to hitch when it played.

“H-Hey, Sweetheart. Shit, can I call you that? Um, anyway, give me a call when you can. I think we should talk.”

The two men take turns pushing Harris and chasing him around the playground. At one point, Harris makes his way to the pole, painted school bus yellow. He reaches out with two chubby hands, but his feet stay grounded on the platform. “‘M scared,” he whimpers, still clinging to the pole.

“You got this, Mini Munson!” Jeff cheers, frowning when Harris remains in place. “Tell ya what: if you slide down the pole, I’ll make your dad do it, too.” He grins mischievously, and Eddie would discreetly flip him the bird if he didn’t have a better alternative.

“Yeah, bud, and then Uncle Jeff will go after me.” He mouths a silent ha at his friend, but neither seem to mind.

And after a few seconds of deliberation, Harris flings his body forward and slowly makes his way down, hands squeaking along the metal.

“I did it!” he announces triumphantly, turning to Eddie. “Your turn, Daddy!”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, but a smile dances on his lips. He darts up the jungle gym steps and hangs onto the pole. He could simply put his feet down and touch the ground, but where’s the fun in that? Instead, he lets out a high-pitched, “wheeeee!” as Harris cackles loudly.

He claps Jeff on the back once his shoes touch the rubber turf. “You’re up, big boy.”

Jeff follows suit, mimicking Eddie and making Harris laugh even harder.

“Uncle Jeff, you’re so silly!” he exclaims, using hands and feet to clamber back up to the top and slide down the pole; this time, there’s no hesitation.

Harris repeats the routine again and again until Eddie catches a glimpse of the digital watch around his wrist. “We gotta leave in five minutes, Har Bear,” he reports matter-of-factly, hoping his lack of emotion will ward off any impending tantrums.

Harris’s lower lip juts out as his pupils dart back and forth between Eddie and Jeff. “Aw, why?”

Eddie crouches down to match his son’s height, pressing palms to his knees for stability. “We’re gonna help Uncle Jeff pack up the presents from the baby shower, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He pauses, pursing his lips in concentration. “How did the baby get in Auntie Viv’s tummy?”

Jeff’s eyes widen at the question, and he glances at Eddie, silently willing him to say something. Eddie clears his throat, wracking his brain for a response that will placate his son’s curiosity without giving away too much information. “Um, well,” he begins, biting the inside of his cheek to buy himself more time before settling on: “when a man and a woman love each other, that love can make a baby.”

Fortunately, Harris seems satisfied with that answer, and Jeff hands him a chocolate donut to distract him from asking anything else. The boy plunks down in the grass a few paces ahead of them and takes a big bite.

“How is it?” Jeff calls to him, chuckling when Harris responds with a chocolate crumb-covered thumbs up and turns his attention back to the dessert. “Nice save,” he says to Eddie, clapping a hand on his shoulder and giving him a little shake. “But what are you gonna say when he asks about his mom?”

“Jesus H; he’s gonna have to give me a few years to come up with an answer for that one.”

Despite every cell in your body urging you to stay away, you’re back in Hawkins. More specifically, you’re in Viv and Jess’s parents’ house, cleaning up after an overall successful baby shower. You’re spooning the leftover food into Tupperware while Jess washes dishes and her girlfriend, Robin, dries and puts them in their respective cabinets.

You’d returned to Grandma’s apartment last night after Jess begged you to come to the shower, lamenting that the party was going to be all of her sister’s lame friends and she needed someone actually fun to hang out with her and Robin. Her insistence, coupled with your desire to finish out the remainder of the school year, is why you’d tossed your suitcases into your sedan and made the trek. Yup, those were the only reasons; certainly nothing to do with–

“Have you talked to Eddie since you got back?”

His name alone brings a surge of emotions, none of which you have the energy to identify. “No,” you mumble, a heat blooming in your cheeks, “he left a message a week ago saying ‘we should talk,’ but I didn’t return it.”

Jess snaps off the faucet, hands still dripping with soapy water as she places them on her hips with an exasperated sigh. “What? Why not?”

“Because.” You try to leave it at that, but her defiant glare obligates you to elaborate. “Because I’m embarrassed!” you admit to Jess and Robin–and to yourself. “The guy practically chased me down the night we met, and now that he got to know me, he doesn’t want to sleep with me? Is my personality that much of a turn-off?” You snap the lid on a plastic container, desperate to end the conversation with your rhetorical question, but your friend keeps going.

“Look, I don’t know him that well–only what I’ve heard from you and Jeff–but he seems to really care about you. Jeff says he hasn’t seen Eddie down this bad, like, ever.” She lowers her voice. “Apparently, some old hookup was coming onto him, and he turned her down because he's, quote, involved with someone.” She raises her eyebrows inquisitively, though you both know that the someone in question is you.

“Wait, hold on–Eddie Munson?” Robin breaks in, nearly dropping the serving spoon in her hand when she makes the connection. “Metalhead, senior year three-peat, alleged Satan-worshiper Eddie Munson?”

“Well, the jury’s out on whether I worship Satan or I actually am Satan, but, yep, that’s me.” The familiar voice from the kitchen doorway startles the three of you; this time, Robin does let the oversized utensil fall to the floor with a clang.

Nerves send your heartbeat into a frenzy, and you have to rest your open palm on the countertop to steady yourself. Eddie stands before you, tip of his nose tinged red from the cold, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Wh-What are you doing here?” You whisper the words, but you might as well be shouting with the level of anxiety steadily rising in your chest.

Eddie rocks back and forth from the soles of his feet to his toes. “Jeff asked us to help him load the gifts into the car.”

“Us?”

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris flings himself into your embrace, and as soon as you stoop down to reciprocate his hug, he’s wrapping his arms and legs around your torso. “I miss you! When are we gonna do the alphabet and eat pizza again?”

Eddie looks over at Jeff; you hadn’t even noticed the other man behind him until Eddie’s gaze drifted over. You watch as the two men exchange a knowing glance, and Jeff quickly speaks up. “Hey, Har,” he motions the boy over to him, “why don’t you use your super strong arms to bring stuff out to the car? I bet you have bigger muscles than me.”

Harris begrudgingly lets go of you, sliding to the floor and dragging his feet to Jeff. He heaves a dramatic sigh and grumbles, “fiiiiiine,” and you and Eddie have to hold back your laughter at his theatrics.

“He is definitely my kid,” Eddie says once Harris has left the room and is out of earshot. He walks closer to you as you turn back to packing up the food. “You, um, never called me back,” he murmurs, placing one hand on either side of you, his chest almost touching your back. Robin and Jess creep out of the kitchen as quietly as possible, leaving you and Eddie alone.

You clear your throat and swallow your fear. “I didn’t have anything to say.” That’s a lie; there was so much you wanted to confide in him, but the thought of him rejecting you again, or getting another glimpse of the hurt you caused reflected in his deep brown eyes, kept you from returning his call.

“Well, I did.” His tone is calm but firm. “I just need to know one thing, and then I swear I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.” He pauses, gathering up his own courage before speaking again. “That day…why did you ask me to sleep with you?”

“I told you,” you say, desperately trying to keep your voice from wobbling, “because I needed to feel something.”

Eddie shakes his head, stepping back and crossing his leather jacket-clad arms over his chest. “No, but why did you ask me? Why didn’t you go to the Hideout and pick up some random dude?” His volume starts to rise, and he clenches his fist and drags it back down as if reminding himself to be quieter. “Was it, like, a convenience thing, or did you really think I’d be okay having sex with you while you were so upset?”

Your heart pangs at his question. It had never even occurred to you that he’d perceive it that way. Were you being selfish? Taking what you felt you needed? Admittedly, yes. But were you asking Eddie specifically because he happened to be there? Absolutely not. “No, Eddie,” you say, forcing yourself to face him, “it’s because…because I knew you’d take care of me. If I wanted to stop or slow down, I knew you’d listen. I trust you.” Speaking the truth aloud is like letting the air out of an overfilled balloon on the cusp of popping. Both you and Eddie visibly relax, easing a tension you hadn’t realized he was also holding.

The room is quiet for a moment. Eddie’s knee softly bumps against your thigh as he wills himself to close the gap he’d created. “You said something in your message about it never being meaningless. Not even the night we…we met.”

The reminder of your confession floods you with humiliation. You—unsuccessfully—threw yourself at him for sex and then left a message saying that you’ve been clinging to the hope of a relationship since your alcohol-laden first hook-up. How humiliating.

“I’m sorry if that was weird, but I told Jess that I’ve never been good at one-night stands. I always get too attached.” And it doesn’t help when I have to see the guy and his adorable son twice a day, you think wryly, but you store that anecdote inside.

Eddie shakes his head, lacing his ringed fingers with your bare ones. The pad of his thumb brushes against the knuckle of yours, both comforting you and zapping electricity through your body. “No, ‘s not weird,” he reassures you, giving your hands a squeeze. “I felt the same way, even if I didn’t realize it. I think that’s why I asked you to stay, why I held you…I’ve never done that before.” He’s sheepish but not ashamed; if he’s being honest, he’s pretty damn proud of himself for admitting it aloud.

You tilt your chin up knowingly. “Yeah, I heard you shut down a sure thing because of your involvement with someone.”

Your emphasis of that one word has Eddie dropping his head, letting go of one of your hands and covering his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Damn, word spreads around here like it’s the five o’clock news. But, uh, yeah, I did. Turn her down.” His tongue darts out to coat his dry lips. “Not that it’s any of my business, but did you, um, see anyone over the holidays?”

“Nope.” You shake your head, bracing yourself for what you’re about to tell him. Even though he’s the one holding you, allowing your bodies to intertwine, it’s nerve-wracking to be so vulnerable. You forge ahead, allowing the words to tumble out of your mouth. “I…I only want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s breath gets caught in his throat. Want want want. Present tense, not past. “Want, like, present tense? Like you still feel that way?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t reek of desperation for a millisecond before realizing that he doesn’t care, as long as you still want him.

“Is that okay?” Your voice is small, an almost comic contrast from the bravado you used during your last in-person encounter.

“It’s more than okay, Sweetheart.” Eddie’s whisper matches yours. His thumb ghosts over the plush of your lips as his hand slips to your cheek, bringing his remaining four fingers behind your ears and to the nape of your neck. He leans in, drawing you closer with his tantalizing smoky scent and raw desire. One step in, noses nudging together–

“Daddy, look at me!”

Eddie whips his head around at the sound of Harris’s voice, nearly crashing against yours, and you stumble backwards into the counter, wincing as you make contact with the linoleum. You bite back the string of swear words on your tongue, both at the pain and the missed kiss.

Jeff is panting as he chases after him, bending forward at the waist and resting his palms on his thighs. “I tried to keep him entertained, but I was not prepared for this level of energy,” he huffs, chest rising and falling with each heaving breath. His eyes dart between you and Eddie, easily picking up on the guilty looks on your faces. He mouths “sorry” and shrugs, but the moment is already over.

Harris, oblivious to the burgeoning tension in the room, tugs on his dad’s sleeve in a demand for attention. “Daddy, wanna see me lift stuff?” He jumps up and down as he asks, making his words vibrate. “Uncle Jeff says I’m the strongest kid in the world!” He opens his arms the entire length of his wingspan to emphasize his point.

“Uh, y-yeah; sure, bud.” Eddie stammers. He looks over at you and you follow his lead, watching as Harris lifts a box of diapers with a dramatic grunt. When Eddie is sure that his son has fully turned around, he grabs your hand once more and gives it a little squeeze. “We’ll pick up where we left off later,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, and it sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Ms. Sweetheart, you watch, too!” Harris insists; so you do, trailing after him all the way to Jeff’s car. Unable to see over the box, he walks it right into the back bumper, and Eddie has to step in and help him.

Once the diapers have been tetris'd into the trunk, Jeff closes the door and slaps it for good measure. “Well, I think that’s everything. Thanks again, Munson…Mini Munson.” He ruffles Harris’s mop of curls with a grin.

Eddie holds out his hand, pulling Jeff in for a hug when he takes it. “Congratulations again, man. I’m really happy for you guys.” And he genuinely is. He can’t wait to see one of his oldest and closest friends experience fatherhood.

He turns to you as Jeff heads back into the house to help Viv to the car. “Did you have anything to eat?” he asks. “I mean, we can go to Benny’s if you want. I was gonna take Harris.” The kid hasn’t had anything since breakfast except the donut, and he’s bound to get cranky sooner rather than later.

You shake your head. “No, I wasn’t really hungry. But I’m down to split a stack of pancakes with you, if you want?”

“Like you used to do with Grandma?” He remembers you mentioning the tradition during her eulogy. The corners of his lips turn up slightly, though his smile quickly falters when he notices the misty film glazing your eyes. “Sorry, I—”

“I’m good,” you reassure him, dabbing at your lash line with the heel of your hand. “Someone really special once told me that it’s okay to be sad, so I’m kind of giving that a shot.”

This time, Eddie’s grin remains. “Is that a ‘yes’ to the pancakes?”

“Yeah. It’s a yes.” You giggle when Eddie makes a fist and pumps it in celebration. “We usually got blueberry, but I’m down for chocolate chip,” you say, remembering his food preference from your first date.

“Nah, I can get behind blueberry,” he says. What he doesn’t say is that he would eat anchovy pancakes if it meant making you happy.

“But I want chicken fingers!” Harris scrunches up his nose, and both you and Eddie know that a hungry four-year-old is not to be challenged.

Eddie scoops Harris up into his arms, smacking a wet kiss to his chubby cheek. One day, his son will wipe them off, but Eddie’s glad that today is not that day. “Then the boy shall have the finest chicken fingers in all of Hawkins!” He declares in a deep voice before winking at you. “More pancakes for me and the pretty lady.”

Harris’s eyes widen. “So you do think she’s pretty–”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road!” Eddie cuts him off. You duck your head as though that will ward off further questioning from Harris, but not before catching a glimpse of Eddie mouthing, “like a princess.”

You can smell the aroma of the deep fryer as soon as you pull into Benny’s parking lot. Since you drove yourself to the shower, you and Eddie take separate cars and meet there. The small diner isn’t overly crowded, and the three of you squeeze into a booth in the back corner. Eddie sits on one side and you on the other; you assume Harris will slide in next to his dad, but he chooses you instead.

Your waiter introduces himself as Ryan and places three sets of silverware on the table. He starts to hand you the menus, but Eddie politely shakes his head and tells him, “‘S all good, man. We know what we want.” He orders a plate of chicken fingers and fries for Harris and a short stack of blueberry pancakes for you and him. “Y’want anything to drink?” he asks you, and you contemplate for a moment before ordering a hot coffee, and Eddie gets the same.

“I want a coffee, too,” Harris pipes up, flashing his million-watt grin at Ryan, who holds back a laugh and promises that the food will be right out.

“So, Harris,” you start, taking a small sip from the glass of ice water in front of you, “how was your Christmas? Get anything good?”

“Mhm!” he chirps, swiveling his body to face yours. “I got a bunch of new Hot Wheels and some cool markers for drawing. They smell like fruits!”

“Very different from when I used to sniff markers back in my day,” Eddie jokes, and you kick his foot lightly in an attempt to silently tell him to behave. His eyes twinkle mischievously when you playfully roll yours.

“That sounds awesome!” you exclaim, bringing your attention back to Harris and adding, “I bet Mr. Will would want to see your new markers if you want to swing by my classroom on Monday.”

Harris’s face lights up, and he claps his hands together in jubilance. “Maybe I can draw something for him!”

“He’d love that,” you tell him, and the little boy squeezes his hands into tiny fists and lets out an excited squeal.

Ryan returns a few moments later balancing a plate of chicken fingers in one hand and the pancakes in the other. Your stomach rumbles; you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you were presented with food. Eddie peels back the film of one of the small plastic syrup containers, positioning it over the pancakes and cocking his eyebrow to get your approval. You nod, and he tilts and swirls it as you watch it drip down the sugary stack.

“How was your visit with your family?” He doesn’t refer to it as your visit home, because he hopes that you consider Hawkins your home now. He unfurls his napkin and pulls out the fork and knife, cutting into the stack, and you mirror his actions.

Harris stretches his arm out across you, and you realize he’s reaching for the glass ketchup bottle, so you twist off the cap and plop some onto his plate. He dips a fry into it happily. “About as good as it could be,” you answer Eddie. “Everyone kind of tried to act normal, but it was like they were trying too hard, y’know?”

“Was Grandma there?” Harris asks through a mouthful of fried potato.

You bite your lip, not quite sure what he knows and what Eddie wants him to know. Death is a tricky subject to broach with young kids, and you don’t want to say anything that will confuse or scare him. Luckily, Eddie jumps in and comes to your rescue. “Har Bear, remember I told you that Grandma went to Heaven?” He gently reminds his son. “That’s why you made that nice card for Ms. Sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harris’s expression morphs from inquisitive to concern, even as he chows down on a chicken finger. “Are you still sad?”

“Sometimes,” you admit, more to yourself than to him, “but it gets a little better every day. And being around my favorite guys helps put me in a good mood.”

Eddie presses a syrupy hand to his chest in mock astonishment. “Who, us?” He smiles and spears another cut of pancake with his fork. “How did you know flattery works with me?”

Before you can formulate a response–something teasing but not overly flirtatious–Harris poses a new question: “Ms. Sweetheart, do you have any babies?”

“Harris!” His son’s name comes out sharper than he intends, but Eddie’s too flustered to think twice. He looks at you apologetically, practically crimson from his cheeks to his ears. “Sorry, he hasn’t stopped talking about babies since I told him about the baby shower.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, giving his hand a small squeeze to show that you truly don’t mind Harris’s curiosity. You look at the boy and tell him, “I don’t have any babies, but I consider all of my students to be my babies.”

“Me, too?”

You chuckle and take a sip of coffee. “Of course, you, too!”

There’s a brief silence as you all eat–Eddie steals a fry from Harris’s plate and shoves it in his mouth before he can get caught. While hilarious, his timing couldn’t be worse, because he has no way of stopping Harris’s next statement:

“You and my daddy could have a baby. Because you’re a woman and he’s a man.” It’s matter-of-fact, said while dunking his food in the ketchup pile, as though this is something everyone drops into normal conversation. “That’s how you get a baby in your tummy like Aunt Viv.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle your laughter, not wanting to reinforce his inadvertently entertaining assertion.

Eddie is far less amused than you are, nearly choking on his swiped French fry. “Chrissakes…” he hisses, ducking and bringing his fist to his forehead, “Harris, eat your chicken fingers, quietly.” He breathes out with a puff of his cheeks as Harris obliges, completely oblivious to the meaning behind his suggestion.

A beat of awkward silence ensues as you eat a hunk of pancake, warm blueberry juice seeping into your tongue. Grandma used to joke around and say that the blueberries made it a healthy food. “Practically a fruit salad,” she’d tease with a glint of happiness dancing in her eyes.

Eddie, meanwhile, is desperate for a subject change. His palms are slick from what he’s like to think is merely embarrassment, but it’s multifaceted. The idea of the three of you sitting in Benny’s just as you are now, only you’re eating for two, has his stomach in knots. And if he even dares to dream about what getting you pregnant entails? He’s a goner.

“Harris has a birthday coming up,” he blurts out a bit too loudly, unable to control his volume. “He’s turning the big, uh, five.”

You can feel Harris eagerly kicking his legs next to you, so you match his enthusiasm. “Wow, Har! That’s a whole hand!” You hold up five fingers and Harris does the same, bringing his palm to yours.

“Are you gonna come to my birthday party?” He peers up at you with hopeful eyes, and you’re left scrambling for a response that doesn’t give away that you haven’t exactly been invited.

“Oh, I, um…”

“She’s going to check her calendar and see,” Eddie offers, and you exhale at his quick save. Turns his attention to you. “His birthday is February 6, but that’s a Thursday, so we’re gonna do his party that Saturday at the bowling alley. Just me, Wayne, and a couple of the kids from school. And you, if you can make it.” Shit, is he rambling? Was that too much information? You spend every day with kids; would you really want to spend a Saturday afternoon at a birthday party surrounded by them?

He’s not overanalyzing for long before you speak. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Do grown-ups get to bowl, too?” You perch your chin on your hand, blinking to emphasize your curiosity. Bowling has never been your forte, but you imagine you’ll fare quite well compared to a group of five-year-olds.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie laughs kindly, letting his arm cross the table so that the back of his fingers can graze your forearm, “that’s a given.”

The three of you head out to your cars—not before you and Eddie argue over who’s going to pay the bill, with you eventually winning the battle. He takes Harris’s right hand as you step off of the sidewalk and into the parking lot, and Harris instinctively slips his left into yours. He walks between you and his dad naturally, as though it’s always been this way. Like you all were a little family that made regular outings for pancakes and chicken fingers.

“Har, go get in your car seat, and I’ll be there in a sec to buckle you in,” Eddie says gently, opening the door for him.

Harris climbs in clumsily, calling back, “Bye, Ms. Sweetheart!” His farewell ends with a yawn, suggesting that there will be a nap in the near future.

Eddie closes the door, shoving his hands in his pockets bashfully. It’s one of his nervous quirks, you’ve noticed, and you’re immediately inclined to reassure him about whatever’s on his mind. “Hey, um, could I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I talked to the people at the school,” he starts, kicking at the gravel under his feet, “and Harris has that evaluation thing on Monday. Would you…”

You don’t even let him finish his request before confirming, “I’ll be there.”

Eddie’s body instantly relaxes, relief flooding through him at your words. “You’re amazing.” He looks around to make sure Harris can’t see before kissing you, lips quickly melding together. He has to pull back before he wants to, before either of you want to, to avoid getting caught. He tastes like coffee and syrup with a hint of berries, though the kiss is too brief to pick up on anything else. A stirring inside you informs you that he could kiss you for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough. “See you, Sweetheart.”

Mondays are characteristically exhausting; kids are home for two days on the weekends and return behaving like they’ve never seen a classroom before. Today is no exception, but the coffee Eddie left on your desk this morning certainly helps. He’d tried to sneak in, but you’d caught him, and it took everything in your power not to plant a kiss on his cheek right then and there. Scrawled on the side of the to-go cup in his messy handwriting were three simple words that made your heart soar: For my Sweetheart.

What you didn’t know was that Eddie had thought about what he’d wanted to write for the entire car ride. Nothing too clingy, but nothing too distant. Not sappy but not brusque. Even the word my between “for” and “Sweetheart” was daunting; how would you feel about being his?

By the time the afternoon rolls around, neither of you are too concerned with romantic gestures. You and Eddie sit in the hard plastic chairs outside the school psychiatrist’s office. He’s already answered all of her questions, so now it’s simply a matter of waiting for the observation to end.

You can hear Harris giggling from the other side of the door, and you look over to smile at Eddie, but he either didn’t hear it or his nerves have built up an impenetrable barrier.

He exhales slowly, puffing out his cheeks and leaning his head back against the brick wall. It’s a sigh of defeat, not relief, and you lean over and squeeze his hand without a second thought. The edges of his skull ring dig into your palm, but you couldn’t care less. Your only priority is keeping him calm.

“Hey,” you murmur, crossing one leg over the other. He looks through you, not at you, and you brush a stray lock of hair from his face to ground him. Once he’s settled, you continue talking. “Everything will be alright. Either he doesn’t have a disability, or we’ll be one step closer to getting him the accommodations he needs.”

Eddie nods. “I know. I just…” He pauses for a beat, struggling to find words that accurately convey his myriad emotions. Besides anxiety about the unknown path that lays before him and Harris, guilt gnaws at him for his past misgivings. The careless sex with Harris’s mom, the stupid fucking tour that he just had to go on while she was pregnant, the blissful ignorance that he could have his cake and eat it, too. “I hate that he can’t learn, like, normally. Like the other kids.”

Your instinct is to tell him that Harris doesn’t need to be like the other kids, that he’s perfectly and unequivocally himself, but that’s not what Eddie needs right now.

“It’s tough,” you agree, “but Harris is a great kid with big dreams, and he’s not going to let anything stop him. All we have to do is support him along the way.”

Eddie ponders that for a moment, slightly amused at the accuracy of your statement, given what you don’t know. Beyond reading and math–both of which he’s shown improvements in since you’ve begun your tutoring sessions–Harris refuses to give up on his quest to get you and Eddie together. The hand-holding drawing was only the tip of the iceberg; Wayne’s since reported that the boy has asked multiple times about when “Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart will fall in love.” And, of course, he hasn’t stopped talking about your Saturday afternoon diner date, constantly badgering Eddie about whether or not you two were married yet.

Eddie rests his head on your shoulder, curly tendrils tickling your collarbones. All you want is to let him stay there as long as he needs, even if your legs fall asleep, but the nagging thoughts of passersby’s perceptions triumph over your desires.

“Eddie, I…” you trail off, gently lifting your shoulder so he’ll get the hint without you having to say it aloud. Self-consciousness pinkens his cheeks as he sits up, adjusting his posture and mumbling a soft “sorry” under his breath.

“S’fine,” you rush to reassure him, praying that he doesn’t misconstrue your professionalism with shame of being seen with him. You would comfort any of your students’ parents in times of distress, but let’s face it–you would never snuggle up to Jason Carver or Carol Perkins. “Just don’t wanna be accused of canoodling on the job,”

He lifts his eyebrows. “Canoodling?”

“It’s a word!”

“You’re the one with the fancy college degree, so I guess I gotta believe you.”

You giggle softly, brushing his Reeboks with your flats. “Seriously, it’s gonna be okay. Whatever happens, I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. The words replay like an enchanting melody. You’ve got him. You’ve got him, and you’ll have him as long as he vows to hold on.

“Mr. Munson?”

Eddie’s attention snaps to Ms. Cassie, the school psychologist. Harris darts from her office, a giant smile on his face as he leaps into his father’s arms. “Daddy, we played games! It was lotsa fun!”

“That’s great, Har Bear,” Eddie murmurs into Harris’s scalp. He looks up at Ms. Cassie expectantly. “How did everything go?” Is my son okay? Is there something wrong with him? Is it my fault? He doesn’t dare pose those questions.

The psychologist offers a smile, lacing her fingers together in front of her stomach. “Like Harris said, we had a great time. I’d like to speak with you briefly…” her gaze flits over to the hallway. “Is there someone who could keep an eye on Harris while we talk?”

Eddie’s heart sinks; privately, perhaps naively, he’d been wishing that there wouldn’t be anything else to discuss. Maybe a chipper, everything’s fine; he’ll catch up to the other kids on his own! But nothing so serious that it required an additional meeting.

“My TA can,” you pipe up, remembering that Will had stayed back to prepare an art project for tomorrow morning. Eddie puts Harris down, watching as you take his chubby hand in yours and make your way to your classroom.

Ms. Cassie starts to wave Eddie into his office, but he shakes his head. “Wanna wait for her to get back,” he tells her, and she nods understandingly. As soon as you return, the two of you take a seat in front of her desk. Paperwork is stacked neatly in piles across the top of it, and framed diplomas line the walls. Board games sit on the shelves, and Eddie can’t help but wonder which ones Harris played this afternoon.

“I want to start off by saying that Harris is one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with,” Ms. Cassie says. Her tone is even and patient, which makes Eddie more anxious. He wants to jump up and demand that she spill the bad news already, but he bites his thumbnail to calm his nerves. You notice the gesture immediately and inconspicuously grab the hand closest to yours, hiding your display of affection below the desk. Eddie grips so tightly that you have to actively suppress a grimace.

“The evaluation indicates that Harris meets the requirements to be classified as a ‘preschooler with a disability,’” she continues, “and as a result, he qualifies for special education services–”

“What the hell does that mean?” You wince at the vitriol in Eddie’s voice, and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand. It brings him back down enough for him to clear his throat and apologize, but you can sense that he’s still on-edge.

“That’s alright, Mr. Munson. You’re not the first parent to react that way, and I’m positive you won’t be the last.” She taps a small pile of papers on her desk to even them out before handing them to him. “The classification means that he will get an Individualized Education Program–IEP for short–that will help us target goals for Harris to make progress alongside his peers.”

Ms. Cassie drones on about short-term and long-term objectives, but Eddie can’t focus on what she’s saying. Preschooler with a disability. My son has a disability because I left, because I wasn’t there, because I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. It’s all my fault. My fault my fault my fault–

“Eddie,” you whisper, but it’s no use. You watch as his ribcage expands and contracts faster with manic breaths, on the verge of hyperventilation. You shoot the psychologist an apologetic glance and pull Eddie from the office before he can launch into a full-blown panic attack. His body is like a ragdoll, and he trails behind you mechanically; if you let go of his hand, he’d probably stop dead in his tracks.

“Baby,” you say, bringing him to an empty classroom. The nickname rolls off your tongue easily despite technically being in your place of work. “Baby, it’s just you and me right now. You’re okay–”

“Harris–disability–my fault.” His words are low and gravelly, but you hear them without having to strain. They’re similar to the sentiments he’d uttered that day at parent-teacher conferences when he’d unexpectedly showed up at your door.

There’s no use trying to convince him otherwise, not when he’s like this, so you try a different approach. “I can talk to Ms. Cassie about rescheduling the meeting. We don’t have to figure everything out right away.” He nods, just a miniscule bob of his head, but it tells you that he’s cognizant enough to comprehend what you’re telling him. “In the meantime, why don’t you go see Harris? I bet he’s drawing something for you.”

That gets a smile out of him. “Y-Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t move; instead, he brings you closer to him and holds you to his chest so close that you can hear his heart beating. His body shakes, but it’s not until you feel a warm teardrop fall from his face onto the top of your head that you realize he’s crying. You wrap your arms around his lithe waist until you feel him begin to steady, staggered breaths becoming fuller.

Wiping the tear trails from his cheeks carefully, you press a tiny kiss to his nose. “Wash your face and go to my classroom. I’ll meet you there.”

“‘Kay,” he manages, wishing he had the means to express his gratitude for your words, your presence, you.

When he gets to your classroom, Harris is furiously scribbling on a piece of construction paper with his new markers. Eddie smiles, leaning against the door until Will spots him.

“Harris, your dad’s here!” he announces, and Harris looks up excitedly.

“Daddy!” he exclaims. “I’m almost done with my picture, hold on!” He grabs a blue marker and uncaps it, marking the paper with concentrated dots. He replaces the cover and slides the marker back into the yellow-and-green box.

He’s always so diligent with his art supplies, Eddie notes.

“Ta-da!” Harris spins the drawing so his dad can see. There’s three people–you, Eddie, and Harris. You’re standing around a large purple rectangle with a line coming out of each corner, which Eddie recognizes as a table. There’s a circle representing the plate of chicken fingers in front of Drawing Harris, and a circle between Drawing You and Drawing Eddie with blueberry pancakes. Just like on Halloween, he’s drawn a smile on everyone’s faces.

“He’s really good,” Will says, and Eddie looks at him in amusement. “Seriously, he is. He’s got great spatial awareness when he draws, which most kids don’t develop until later. And he’s got an eye for detail,” he adds, pointing to the blue dots on the pancakes. “Looks like you’ve got a little artist.”

An artist. Not a failure, not incapable, but an artist. A boy who could grow up and inspire the world with his creativity.

“I love it,” Eddie says finally, reaching out to take the drawing. He frowns when Harris snatches it back.

“This one is for Ms. Sweetheart,” he explains exasperatedly, as though this is something he’s had to repeat multiple times. “We already have one at home, Daddy. Renember?” His pout quickly becomes a grin when he sees you enter the room. “Ms. Sweetheart, I drawed this for you!”

“I love it!” You inadvertently echo Eddie’s statement as you hold the paper to your heart. “This is gonna go on the kitchen wall so you can see it when you come over for tutoring.” You turn to Eddie, eyes warm with understanding. “How are you feeling?”

“I dunno,” he answers honestly. “Kinda sad, kinda mad, kinda relieved that there’s an answer.” He scratches at the stubble on his cheeks. “‘M just…really glad I don’t have to go through it alone.”

“I’m always here for you, Eds. You and Harris.”

Eddie’s curls bob up and down as he slowly nods. “Speaking of which, um, you said something about tutoring him? Are you feeling up to it? I can bring pizza—o-or not, if it makes you sad. We could do Chinese or something—”

“Eddie?”

“Ya?”

You look down at the drawing of your little chosen family at Benny’s. It’s certainly different from the times you went with Grandma, but you’re filled with the same feeling of belonging that you’d felt then.

“Extra olives for me, please.”

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l0vergirlv0mit · 5 months

Text

Touching Yourself

Inspired by: Touching Yourself by The Japanese House

Pairing: college!Hazel Callahan x Reader

Summary: You and Hazel have been dating for a month and a half and it’s time to take things to the next level.

Contents/warning: switch!hazel >:), titty sucking, tribbing, oral sex r!receiving, phone sex, fingering, sorry if I let something off.

A/n: characters are older college students so they do in fact have some income.

She’s been watching you from across the room the whole lecture. You keep looking back and forth from the teacher to her. Catching her eyes to see if she was still looking then quickly turning back to the front. Your leg was bouncing trying to distract from her gaze. You feel you phone buzz in your pocket letting out the deepest sigh.

Hazel: you look beautiful today;)

You: please I’m trying to focus >:(

Hazel: aww come on you won’t even give me a smile please you look so pretty!;,(

You can’t help but lean over and shake your head at her with a grin. She excitedly waved at you.

You: your so needy.

You make eye contact with Hazel again and shes biting her lip with her phone illuminating her face. Her eyes have become more lidded as she looks away to type.

Hazel: you wanna hang out tonight??? the girls are getting together for dinner if you wanted to come along.

Hazels still staring at her phone phone smiling hopefully when you look over at her once more. It’s was so cute you had to giggle to yourself.

You: of course honey what time?<3

Hazel sinks a little further in her seat at your reply. Biting the tip of her finger re reading the pet name you gave her a couple times. She’s always gets so giddy about you.

Hazel: I’ll pick you up at 6 <3

Hazels buzzing in her seat she’s wearing a tight lipped smile trying to hold back from squealing happily. Eyes fixed on your face as you put your phone down continuing to try and focus on the teacher. She watched your eyes focus and was reeling at how pretty you side profile was.

You and Hazel had been going out for a month and a half. You’ve known of each other for a couple months before only really saying hi to each other in passing. It wasn't until you had got to talking at a sorority party that you finally realized how cute she was.

—

She was rambling about some chemical formula and how it reacts with another chemical formula. You couldn’t stop smiling at how excited she got you didn’t understand a damn thing but it was adorable none the less.

You’d asked her for number and she looked at you shocked and wide eyed. Her cheeks were dusted with a rosy blush as she fumbled for her phone saying “yes of course!” And asked for yours as well just to make sure y’all would “get in contact”

You’d gone out a couple times since and every date had been perfect. She took you on a picnic for the first date packing a lunch of gourmet sandwiches, fruit salad, and wine. Taking you to a gorgeous lake to eat next to the water and swim. Made for a very giggly and cute first date. Needless to say hard to top.

You took her to a fancy restaurant in return. Both of you getting dressed up. Hazel told them it was your birthday to get free cake. She was especially amused when they started singing happy birthday for you. You took her to a jazz club afterwards and danced for hours. Flirting with her until she felt like she was about to burst.

Then taking her home to go to sleep cuddled up. That’s just a few of the special date you both have made a habit of planning. But you also have had lots of casual dates. Going over to each other’s apartments to watch movies or bake or something cute like that. You haven’t put a label on the relationship yet taking it v e r y slowly.

—

The lecture ends and your packing your things up until you feel Hazels hands on your sides. She breathes you in resting her chin on your shoulder. “Mm this is new?” She plays with the flimsy material of your light blue top. “Mhm you like it?”you turn around to face her hanging your bag over your shoulder. She nods excitedly, “oh I love it!”

Hazels eyes rake over your breast for a little to long which doesn’t go unnoticed as you hit her lightly in the shoulder giving her an exasperated expression. “Jesus I’ll see you tonight at 6 alright I have to go study.” You said kissing Hazels cheek then walking past her.

She watched you till you were all the way out of room. Her palms had been sweating since you first walked into the room she needed you. BAD. Her mind was racing thinking of how your lips felt and how good you smelt it was making her crazy. Hazels wanted to get more intimate for a while but she’s been to scared to initiate it. She knew that you wouldn’t reject her she was just really didn’t wanna mess it up.

She high tails it to her car feeling to suffocated by her own thoughts. When she finally gets into her car she’s re reading messages between the two of looking at photos of you. She internally cursing herself because she knows she making it worse for herself. While she scrolling her camera roll she gets a notification from you.

You: 3 images

Hazel doesn’t think anything of it when she goes to open them but the air is quickly knocked out of her lungs. “Holy fuck!” She screamed to herself. You sent her photos of your cleavage pushing your arms together to accentuate. In the last one you had your shirt pulled up over your chest exposing yourself. All in the blue top. You lived close to campus so as soon as you were inside your apartment you took them.

Hazels breathing so heavy she’s almost panting, running her sweaty hand up and down her thigh. Her phones shaking in her hand you’d never sent something like that to her before. She honestly was a little confused as what to say.

Hazel: holy shit y/n your so fucking hot how am I supposed to go to work now:(

Hazel has a 5 hour shift at the coffee shop which she was supposed to be driving to right now. But instead she’s staring at her phone about to combust.

You: awww idk but have fun at work babe! ;)

You replied ignoring her concern and teasing her instead. She didn’t know you were on the other side of her phone also shaking and trying to calm your nerves.

Hazel: this is so evil please, I can’t wait to show you off tonight.

You bit your lip and giggled at hazels text squealing about how much you liked her.

Hazel checks the time after looking over every detail of the photos and realizes she’s already 5 minutes late to her job. She shakes her head and let out a desperate huff of air running her fingers through her hair. This shift was going to be agonizing.

—

It’s 5:20 right now and your already getting ready for tonight. Doing your hair and makeup. You kept the blue top on and added a long white skirt with it and more accessories to dress it up. Your phone buzzes interrupting your music. Hazel was calling you.

“Hey gorgeous! I just got off work!” Hazel was very excited she’d been wanting to talk to you her whole shift. She was hoping you’d come in and visit her but you were busy with homework and studying. Every time a girl that resembled you came through the door she would perk up only to be disappointed.

“Hi sweetie how was it?” Your tone was sarcastic. You hear her huff through the phone.

“It was fine…” She replied dryly then paused for a moment you could tell she was getting frustrated at your teasing. “Anyway is it ok if I come over like 15 minutes early to hang out for a bit?” Hazel asked you so sweetly you couldn’t say no to her. “Of course you can. I’m almost ready anyways.”

“Ok see you soon! Your recreating those photos for me when I g-get there by the way.” She says quickly like she’s running out of air then hangs up phone not letting you reply. She cursed herself for stuttering but she tried her best. You stopped midway of doing your eyeliner your heart pounding out of your chest. A heart beat begins between your legs.

You and Hazel haven’t really gone past making out and being touchy over clothes. You continue with your make up and getting ready. Lighting a candle and cleaning your apartment as you wait for Hazel.

At exactly 5:45 there’s a knock at your door. You look out of the peep hole and open it. You can’t even get a word out before Hazels grabbing you by your hips pulling you into a deep kiss. She closes the door with her foot behind her. Pushing you up against the counter. You make a surprise “mhph!”, sound and she pulls back you can see the ache on her face.

“Can’t I please take this off?” She asked politely out of breath her brows are pushed together and her mouth is slightly agape. Her hands are already under the fabric feeling your abdomen. “Mhm” she carefully pulls it over your head. The sight of your breast made her release a heavy exhale. She drops to her knees placing kisses on your lower stomach.

Hazel looks up at you with puppy dog eyes that shine. Your brushing her hair out of face and running your fingers through it. “Can we go to your room?” Hazel asked you pleadingly as if you could say no. You nod and you sweetly take her hand leading you to your room.

Shes kissing you again this time slower with more purpose. She pushes you till you feel you bed hit the back of your knees. Gently she pushes you down not breaking the kiss. Her hands are nervously ghosting over your breast until you finally take her hand yourself and have her touch you.

Hazel moans into the kiss feeling how soft your skin is under her hand. Her face gets hot in embarrassment. She’s trying to hard to seem collected but she just about to short circuit and pass out.

Hazels trailing kisses down your neck reaching your collar bone she looks up for confirmation. She was so polite about it, it made your heart swell. You grin and nod at her running your fingers through her soft hair, you wanted to see her face. She’s quick to leave open mouthed kisses to both of your breast like a woman starved.

Shes holding both of them in her hands. You watch her while propped up on your elbows. Taking you bottom lip between your teeth when she wraps her lips around your nipple tugging. You whimper your fingers tangled in her hair. Hazel leaves a red bruise on your breast getting carried away. She mouths and sucks them until soft moans and praises are spilling from your lips.

She’s looking up at you with slicked shiny lips that are parted slightly. Her eyes still puppy like when she plays when the waistband of your skirt. Tugging it down just a bit to get a reaction from you. Then letting the fabric snap back into place.

Hazel grins at you mischievously. “I think we should get going babe.” Your frustrated at her and it shows. Desperately trying to rub your thighs together for some release. “W-what but-“ Hazel doesn’t let you finish. “Payback.” Shes so proud of herself her grin getting bigger watching you squirm. “Go get my shirt.” You said scoffing at her laughing at how prideful she was. She’s been planning this the whole time.

Hazel goes into the living room to grab your shirt and is back in a second. Handing it to you still smirking she offers her hand to help you up from your bed. You snatch the shirt out of her hand walking to your bathroom. You grab the bra hanging off your door knob and slip your shirt on. You hadn’t put a bra on knowing her intentions. “I should punish you for that you know.” You say once you’ve walked out going playfully holding Hazels cheeks in your hand making her lips pucker. Walking away grabbing your purse.

“Oh no what are you gonna do to me~” Hazel tries to say flirtatiously. “Oh you just wait.” Your colder tone makes her smile drop a bit as you look at her sternly. She starting to get worried at what you were scheming.

In the car ride over to Hazels friend Josie’s place the tension is THICK. Heavy blushes still on sit on both you and Hazels cheeks. Your holding pinky’s over the center consul. And of course as passenger princess you had aux rights. Every song you chose was sending Hazel a message. Some horny some angry at one point you played a Weeknd song and Hazel snorted. You did too but not before shooting her a glare.

Hazel pulled up to the small house and parked the car. She turned to look at you with a small smile and places her hand on your thigh. “You ready?” She says rubbing back and forth soothing you. Hazel knows you get social anxiety especially in smaller groups. You nod bringing your palm to cup her cheek and lean in for a soft kiss. When you pull away Hazel looks like she’s melting.

Looking over your face as if your the most precious thing in the world. “Now I’m really ready.” You said getting out of car. Hazel expelled a huff of air she was in awe of you. She placed her hand on the small of your back leading you towards the door. She knocked and the door was answered quickly.

It was Josie in an apron that said “kiss the cook”. She sees Hazel first then you her eyes going wide. “Oh my god you brought her! Hi! Come in!” Hazels ears got red smirking she felt proud having you by her side. When you walk in there’s a group of girls in the living room timidly you wave at them. Your met with warm smiles and excited greetings. Hazel had told you about them giving you there names.

One of them is looking at you weird and you assume it’s PJ. Her and Hazel had a thing but you honestly don’t pay it much mind. Another girl walks out of the kitchen and she walks up to Hazel. “Oh she’s cute.” She says quietly out of your earshot to her patting her should then turning to you. “Hi I’m Isabel! Do you wanna drink?”

She offers smiling sweetly at you. You enthusiastically agree seeing that they had an array of liquors. And you definitely needed a little something to make you more sociable. She takes you away from Hazel to make you a drink. Josie takes Hazel into the kitchen with her. You turn back to give Hazel an apprehensive smile as you part.

Hazels helps Josie cut up vegetables while listening to her talk about school and Isabel and whatever else happened that week. Hazels trying her best to focus but she keep zoning out when she thinks about how your face looked with her mouth around nipple. The only thing that pulled her out was hearing your name. “So are you and y/n official yet or what?” Josie said with a smile wiggling her eyebrows at Hazel.

Hazel exhales a laugh. “No not yet…I think I might ask her tonight though actually.” She says quietly feeling a little shy talking about you smiling to herself. Josie gasps, “REALLY! DUDE FINALLY!” She can’t contain her shock. Hazel whips her head and puts her finger to her lips in a hushing motion. “Yes! You’ve had like four, twenty-four hour dates! You should practically be married!” Josie adds Hazel smiles ear to ear at the thought. “Yeah I really really like her.”

In the next room your having a similar conversation with Isabel while she makes you a vodka cran. “Soooo you and Hazel huh? You look cute together! Are you official yet?” Isabel says mixing up your drink. Your heart skips a beat at her question realizing that Hazel had been talking about you to them.

“O-oh thank you! Um no we’re uh not official yet.” Your stammering with the new people around you most of them focused on you and Isabel’s conversation. “She really likes you Im Sylvie by the way.” A girl with kind of crazy eyes hold out her hand. Your blushing HARD. You shake her hand and smile shyly. Isabel hands you your drink and pats a spot on the couch for you to sit.

You became aquatinted with the rest of the girls quickly all of them were very friendly giving you compliments. They told you about other friend diners they’ve had and that hazel is a really good cook. This information quite literally had you squeezing your legs together. Every time they said something you didn’t know about her made you fall her that much more.

Josie and Hazel let everyone know that diner was ready. All of you pile into the kitchen to make your plates. You were one of the last to make your way over but Hazel pulls you just outside the kitchen door away from everyone to give you a deep kiss. “I’m really happy your here.” Hazels eyes are twinkling as she smiles softly at you. Her arms snake around your neck bringing you against her.

“Me too your friends are really sweet.” You replied speaking into her neck with your head resting on her shoulder. You can feel the alcohol doing it’s job properly loosening you up. “Aww im happy your having a good time honey.” Hazels pressing a kiss into your hair. “Yeah I am! But don’t think I forgot about earlier honey.” Your stern voice returns as you raise your head squinting your eyes at her. “I’m hungry let’s eat.” Patting her cheek you give her a forced smile then walk into the kitchen.

She swallowed trailing behind you ridding the back of her neck. They had put the dinning table outside to eat on the patio. Making it really cute hanging up lights and lighting candles. It was casual and cozy like something you’d put on a Pinterest board. You and Hazel were sat next to each other. Both of you could feel energy buzzing off of each other making eye contact knowing what each other were feeling.

Your hand found it’s way to the inside of Hazels thigh caressing. Protected by the table cloth no one knows but the two of you. You watch as she straightened and broke eye contact trying to focus on the plate in front of her. She having trouble concealing her neediness, showing on her face instead. Her eyebrows pushing together and biting her lip. Everyone’s sat now so you pull your hand away to start eating. Hazels quick to catch your wrist for a moment.

Her eyes were serious and you matched them ultimately winning the silent fight for dominance. She let go and you smirked and shrugged mouthing a “what?”. Hazel licks over her teeth and is visibly frustrated running her fingers through her hair pushing it out of her very hot face.

Josie made pasta dish with bruschetta on the side and it was goodddddd. Everyone finished very quickly talking amongst themselves sipping wine pretending to be full fledged adults. You excused yourself to use the restroom not paying any attention to Hazel as you got up. Making your way to the restroom you felt your heart start pounding again.

Once your in and locked the door you pull your phone out of your bag and open your messages with Hazel. The pictures you had sent her earlier weren’t the only ones you took. You paused midway through your studying to have a full on photo shoot in a sage green lingerie set. Some of them were really, really dirty at least for you. You weren’t going to send them to her today but after what she did these couldn’t wait. You picked out your favorite and sent it to Hazel.

You: 1 message

Not paying much mind Hazel opened your message that read “turn your brightness down” her face contorted in confusion but she did it anyways.

You: 1 Image

Hazel chokes when a picture of you with your legs spread infront of a full length mirror pops up. The small thong you had on barely covering you. Your bra was mesh leaving nothing to imagination.

Hazels nearly sitting in a puddle holding her phone close to her face so no one else sees. Her hand shakes from excitement but also anger. Your playing with her and have been all day. Britney turns to Hazel hearing her struggle. “Hey are you good?” Hazel looked like she was in pain. She slams her phone down quick onto her lap. “Oh y-yeah I um my drink went down the wrong pipe heh.” Britney doesn’t question anymore just nodding and turning back to talk to PJ.

She starts to type but you’ve already come back. Jumping back into conversation with everyone wide grin lighting up your face. Hazels quiet, staring holes into your head. It was her turn to wind you up. Placing her hand on your thigh she slowly walks her fingers higher to swipe over your clothed cunt with her pointer and middle finger stroking for a moment. Making you stutter mid sentence and shoot up in your seat.

She watched your face the whole time reveling at how she was able to make you squirm. After a minute of torture she took her hand back. You finished your thought and immediately pick up your phone.

You: I hope you still hungry.

Hazel picks up her phone and and shifts her eyes to you.

Hazel: ???

You: cause we’re having dessert at my place.

Hazel can feel her heart beat quicken. She might go into cardiac arrest if you make her any more flustered.

Hazel: can we leave I don’t think I can wait I’m being so serious.

You look over at her incredulously. Only to be met with the sight of Hazel bouncing her leg nervously looking over at you with dark heavy eyes. She looked like she was going to EAT YOU.

You: tell them I have work in the morning.

Not even a minute later she’s turning to you. “Don’t you have work early tomorrow babe?” Hazel let it slip from her mouth feeling nervous about lying. It got the effectively got the attention of everyone. “Yeah I have to get up at like 5.” You said with faux disappointment. “Oh wow well we should probably go then and um go home heh.” Hazels so bad at lying you literally have to hold back from laughing. Biting the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah probably it’s been really nice thank you for having me over.” You get up from your seat and Hazel quickly gets up as well. “Yeah totally it’s been uh great meeting you.” Josie says confused at the urgency she sees in Hazel. You say your goodbyes. Then Hazels rushing you out of the house with her hand on the small of your back.

Josie says goodbye one last time at the door then closes it. Both you and Hazel run to the car. She’s already pushing you up against the side kissing you hungrily. You pushed her away grinning at her. “My needy needy girl.” Hazels legs feel like there’s jelly at your words. “Let’s get home first alright.” You brush a piece of hair behind her ear she nods finally getting into car. The car ride back to your place is quiet Hazels gone pretty much non verbal till your parked outside of the apartment complex.

Shes quick to get out and walk around to your side and open the door for you. Hastily making it into you apartment your pushing her up against the door as soon as it’s closed. Unbuttoning her shirt and undoing her belt. She throws her head back against the door with a thud. Her mouth hanging as you leave kisses up and down her neck. One of her hands is holding the back of your head not wanting you lips to ever leave from that spot as she lets out soft whimpers.

“I-i w-want you so f-fucking bad please y/n.” she sounds like she’s about to cry. You nip then let your tongue roll over her skin. She shivers hissing at the sensation.

You disconnect your lips from her neck. “Yeah? You wanna make me feel good baby?” You replied in a sultry voice you breath fanning over her ear. She nods eagerly and you connect your lips again. As you both stumble around she’s pulling your shirt over your head; frenzied her actions are sloppy and rushed. She’s so overwhelmed with her own need.

Somewhere in the blur you make it to your bedroom standing besides your bed. Hazel takes in the green lacy bra your wearing her eyes pleading with you. The image of you in front of the mirror flashes in her head. She thinks about the little tiny thong you’re probably wearing. She’s sent into hyper drive yanking your skirt down eagerly. “oh f-fuck” She’s squeaks out pathetically. Sinking to her knees for a second time today rubbing the tops of your thigh looking up at you.

Her shirt hangs off her shoulders and her pants are sagging on her hips its a whorish display. “Please l-let me, fuck, taste you I want you make you f-feel good.” Her breathless words send shocks to your core. She brings the pad of her thumb up against the wet spot on your panties.

“I need to make you feel good.” Hazels tugging at the band your thong impatiently. Her eyes are glistening in the low light of your room. You don’t answer her yet sitting back on your bed you open your legs for her. Moving your panties to the side to let her see how wet you are. Letting your actions speak for you instead. Hazel practically jumps between your legs and she devours your thighs. Kissing and sucking the plush flesh like it’s the only thing that’ll keep her alive. She’s looking up at you back and forth while hurriedly taking your thong off.

“Your so pretty on your knees like this honey.” You grab her attention puppy dog eyes look back at you. “Oh t-thank yo-“ You open your legs wider for her to get better view of you. “I wonder how pretty you’ll look with your lips on my clit.” You cut her off smirking down at her. Hazels mesmerized by you. Running her finger down your slit. She moves closer to your core you can feel her uneven breaths against you. Her shaky hands grip your thighs before diving in.

“Hazel~” you moan out her name feeling her lips kiss your clit sweetly. She whimpers into you at the sound of her name spilling from your lips. She get more hungry and confident her grip on your thighs getting rougher and stronger. Licking stripes up and down your cunt like she’s never had anything as good as your pussy. You grip her hair tugging a bit. She pulls away for just second to catch her breath. Her lips pull into a smile and she giggled to herself.

“We should done this a lot sooner I could do this forever.”

She said breathlessly then reattached her lips to your clit sucking it. Flicking her tongue in a way that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. She hums knowing it would make you feel that much better. Your legs start to shake threatening to close around her head. Hazel feels pride swell in her chest. Her biceps pop as she prying your legs open.

“Oh f-fuck! God if i knew you could eat p-pussy like this-“

Hazels tongue is working over time. She shoves her face into your pussy and shaking her head back and forth. “Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh my god Hazel!”You can feel her smiling into you, adding a finger and curling upwards sending you over the edge. You grip into her hair keeping her still while you grind into her mouth. She drags you through your orgasm licking up every bit of arousal. When you finally let her go she’s panting hard. You almost feel bad poor baby couldn’t breath with you grinding into her face so erratically.

You look at her with tired eyes and regret not making her cum first. Hazels staring back at you like your the prettiest thing she’s ever seen. “Did I make you feel good?” Hazel asked you dumbly her lips and chin covered in your arousal. She wanted praise. Her core is aching squirming where she was on her knees. “Yes baby.” You said giving her a soft smile. “You did so good my pretty girl.” You praised her stroking over her cheek. She sucks in a breath at your use of words.

Your thumb swipes over her bottom lip asking for entry. Hazel obliged opening her mouth for you. You place your middle and ring finger on her tongue. Moving them forward just to see her gag around them. Pulling them out of her mouth with a pop you bring your them to you lips and suck them. You can taste yourself. “Stand up baby.” Shes quick to her feet standing over you. You gently finish undressing her laying her down.

Letting your hands roam all over her soft skin. Kissing her hungrily she’s moaning into your mouth at your roughness. Your hand snakes down between your bodies to slowly rub her clit. She whimpered so sweetly it made your heart hurt. Disconnecting lips every couple second to catch your breath. Panting into each other’s mouths. Hazels hips buck against your hand and you stop going to straddle her hips.

She whines into the room grabbing for you. She missed your lips as soon as they were gone. You tut. “Trust me baby its gets a lot better than that.” You said while you position yourself to straddle one of her legs and raise the other up. Hazels eyes get wide realizing what you were about to do. “Wait fuck holy f-fuck, wait, shit your so hot.” You can’t help but giggle hovering over her soaked pussy feeling each other’s warmth.

Finally making contact Hazel exhales in relief. She reaches to hold your hand. Interlocking your finger together she’s making you melt over and over again. You slowly grind down both of your slick mixing making a sound that has both of you blushing. Hazels hand tightening in yours as her mouth hangs agape. The layer of sweat that’s formed makes her glisten. Your clits are bumping each other syncing as you both get into a rhythm. Hazels other hand is resting on her forehead like she can’t believe what’s happening.

“You look so good right now, your pussy feels s-so good ahhh-a!” She’s losing her fucking mind at how your tits bounce with ever thrust. Watching the way your mouth hangs open and your cheat heaves. She’s in heaven. She’s thought about a moment like this since the first date. How the setting sun hit the water just right to make your face glow. How you slowly pulled her in for a kiss. How she blushed after you told her how pretty her smile was.

The leg your holding up starts to shake and it puts an absolutely blissful smile on your face. Hazels making whines that almost sounds like cries as you start to quicken your thrust. She squeezes her eyes shut moans erratically. “Ah! Ah! Fuck! Fuck! Y/n nghhhh!” You lightly slap her thigh trying to get her attention. “Look at me honey, you don’t want to me to stop do you?”

Hazel shakes her head begging. “No no no p-please I’m almost there please.” A tear rolls down her cheek from the stimulation. It gets hard to keep your hold on her leg she’s shaking so hard. Her eyes focus on you barley open and droopy. She’s whispering but it’s inaudible just a jumble of words saying how hot you were or how good your pussy is. Your watching her sympathetically.

“I-I’m im gonna cum p-please cum with me baby.” She asks you politely her voice nothing but a horse whimper her grip on your hand gets weaker. “O-of course baby.” You hips stutter feeling your orgasm possess you. Moving your hips best of your ability. Hazels eyes completely rolled back as she lets out a high pitched moan bordering on scream.

Riding your highs out together as arousal coats both of your thigh. You drop Hazels legs all but collapsing next to her out of breath. Hazels almost as exhausted as you were. Turning her head to look at you. Her eyes scanning over your tired face a small proud smile is spreading over her face. Hazles moving closer to you to entangled her limbs with yours. Getting as close as possible. She strokes down your hair and pushes it out of your face.

She slowly pulls you into a deep loving kiss. Pulling away you there listening to each other breath. Hazel starts to speak feeling nervousness wash over her.

“Can i ask you something.” Her voice is tired and weak.

You nod your head waiting to hear what she had to say. Hazels eyes were shifty. “I want to call you my g-girlfriend. Like I want to be with you. I-I want to-“ she stammered through her words till you cut her off with a kiss.

“I would love that.” You smile brightly and Hazel does the same letting out a sign of relief. Her excitement waking her just a bit. She goes to leave kisses all over your face. “I-“ she places a kiss. “Like you-“ she places another. “So so much.” She places a final one on your lips. She has you giggling like a fool. “I like you more,” you pause for a moment wearing a coy expression. “Wanna go take a shower?” You look up at her through your lashes tracing circles on her lower stomach.

“Round 2 already?” Hazel jokes sitting up in the bed.

(Thanks for reading pookies🥰)

#hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #bottoms 2023 #hazel bottoms #bottoms movie

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thebreakfastgenie · 1 month

Note

What is your s'mores theory?

It's not a theory about s'mores so much as a theory of s'more-making.

Graham crackers. Nabisco from the red box are ideal. If you can't get those, the Honey Maid ones are acceptable, but inferior.

You need mid-tier chocolate. Hersheys is perfect. Lowest-tier store brand chocolate is no good, but chocolate that's too fancy doesn't work either. The one area where I'm willing to diverge from 100% classic s'more is that in my opinion dark chocolate pairs better with marshmallow than milk chocolate does. However, milk chocolate has a lower melting point so it melts a little better. It's personal preference. Also you really want to pay attention to the shape of the chocolate, because it has to fit on the graham cracker and it has to be the right thickness for melting. The classic full-size bars are the best (half a bar per s'more), two minis will work in a pinch. Don't fuck around with fancy shit like Reeses cups. That's not what we're here for.

Classic marshmallows only. This is so important. They NEED to be ROUND so you can rotate them and make them roast evenly. Those square ones are an abomination unto the lord. The ones coated in coconut just don't roast as well (they are delicious though). You MUST roast the marshmallow on a WOODEN stick. Metal heats up too fast and the inside melts before it's done cooking and it falls off the stick. Sad! Also I'm sorry but the people who say they like to set their marshmallows on fire are just too impatient to cook them properly. It's pure cope. You have to cook them slow to make them puff up!!! If they're not puffing up they're not cooked right!! They should be gooey and melty on the inside and toasty and crunchy on the outside. I like a dark brown exterior it must be said but you will get that by roasting. It works best to roast over coals, not a big open flame, which does kill the bonfire aesthetic a little but oh well. Have two fires or build the fire back up after you make your s'more idk.

S'mores CANNOT be recreated indoors. They never taste right. It's not just about the chocolate+marshmallow+graham cracker combination. For one thing roasted marshmallow is a completely different flavor and it can only be achieved over an open flame. Melting a marshmallow in the microwave will never give you that. Secondly it is also about the TEXTURE and the TEMPERATURE. It's a whole experience. It should also be dark! You should be outside!

S'mores WILL be messy. As god intended. That thing WILL ooze when you bite into it. You WILL have marshmallow all over your hands, face, in your hair. If you're not prepared for that you're not ready for S'mores.

Seriously don't try to make them gourmet! I've tried it! It's never as good! You cannot beat the classics!

170 notes · View notes

trashmouth-richie · 6 months

Text

ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

HEATED

≛ modern!eddie x female reader x modern! steve

≛ summary: a week after being stranded on the side of the road with eddie and steve, you finally figure out what you’re going to do. Can the boys agree to what you have planned?

≛ THIS CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE FIC

≛ chapter warnings: MODERN AU, 18+ only I can’t be anymore clear about that, fuckgirl! reader vibes, Steve’s kind of a dickhead, oral m & f receiving and giving, mentions of birth control, reader gets eaten out by a girl, drug use, mention of alcohol, modern themes including texting, snapchat, iced coffee, crumbl cookie lmao etc, no y/n used, readers nickname is taff or taffy (bruh I hate using y/n catch me using any dumb nickname) Eddie picks reader up in a hug, real simpy Eddie behavior.

“I just don’t know Robin,” you explain, pulling literally at your hair from the root, “what should I do?”

Ever since that day in the back of Wayne’s truck, you hadn’t had a single night of peace. Both Eddie and Steve were blowing up your phone. Begging for your attention. It was flattering at first. Two of Hawkins hottest at your beck and call. Each vying for your undivided, not knowing that they were competing for it.

“Quit squirming,” Robin says in a huff between your legs, her mouth blossomed red and slick with spit, “I’ve been down here for thirty minutes and you aren’t any closer to coming than when I started.”

Her apartment was hot and sticky, the oscillating fan on its last leg, and you were both stripped down to nothing to keep cool on your planned girls day in. A day to forget about the boys stressing you out and for Robin to get away from her annoying ex. And just like how it usually happened with her, you ended up snorting lines and making eachother buzz with orgasms.

“Ugh, sorry,” you say annoyed, leaning up on your elbows to see her pretty face, “I just can’t relax.”

“Tell me about it,” she says around your puffy clit, the tip of her tongue flicking it like a snake.

You had made the boys swear to secrecy that they wouldn’t tell a soul about what had happened. But you didn’t promise anything.

And the moment you had gotten home, you sent a text to Robin explaining every single detail, down to girth and length.

“I think, you should date them both, try em out, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, now please shut up, you’re taking forever and I’m bored.”

The next morning you woke with a smile on your lips. Any turmoil left in your mind on your decision had gone with Robin’s idea.

The alarm clock on your bedside table illuminated 9:15AM and before even slipping your toes into some slippers, you sent two text messages to two recipients.

The normal routine of your morning commenced without fail, washing your face, scrubbing your body in the shower, putting on light makeup before making a pot of coffee.

Eddie arrived first, his motorcycle echoed loud off the parking lot as he backed it into a spot against the sidewalk. His dark curls were honeyed by the sun, a bag of Chinese takeout in one arm and a dozen roses in another. The prettiest dimples displayed on his stupid gorgeous face.

“Hey beautiful,” he smirked, wrapping you in a hug and kissing your cheek. He smelled like muted cigarettes and bourbon cologne. The creak of his leather jacket echoed in your ears as he lifted you off the ground into a bone crushing hug, making you squeal.

“Sleep well?”

Before you could answer his smile had faded into a scowl when the door swung open and Steve stood at the threshold. Wielding a pink box of gourmet cookies and two iced coffees, his wire framed Ray Bans pushed into his hair.

“Munson,” he greeted, nodding to his friend in that jock head jerk. Stepping around him, Steve sets the coffees on the counter and gathers you into a hug, kissing your neck and whispering that he had missed you.

His golden retriever vibe of tanned skin and forest colored eyes bore through you when he licked his lips.

You pull away and smile at them. They both look so good but in completely different ways.

Eddie’s tattoos were peeking out from under the tight white shirt he was wearing, as was a silver chain necklace.

You were practically drooling to get your lips on his skin again.

Steve was in light colored shorts and a casual button up, exposing the dusting of chest hair that your fingers ached to be wrapped in. If you had your way you’d take them both right here right now but that’s not what today was about.

“Why are we both here, baby?” Eddie asks, setting the bouquet and the Chinese food on the counter, pushing away the pink box of treats from his competitor.

“It’s obvious.” Steve says with a smirk pulling on his lips, “she’s gonna let you down easy and go out with me.”

“Always so cocky,” you tsk, trying not to look at the way his shorts are cinched at the zipper.

You look between them, big doe whiskey colored eyes stare at you in longing, while the mossy floor ones squinted with a smirk.

“We need to talk, and rather me having this conversation twice- I figured we are grown ass adults and can talk about what happened.”

Eddie nods and crosses his arms, leaning forward to not miss anything you were about to say. Meanwhile Steve leaned a hip into the wall, checking his phone.

“Before I stroke your egos, you both know you’re hot, so I’m not going to tell you how fucking great that day was.”

“fuck yeah it was,” Steve chimed in, adjusting his length in his shorts.

Eddie blushed a pretty salmon and shot you a wink.

“But— I’m not choosing between the two of you, I can’t, ask Robin, I about gave her a brain aneurysm yesterday trying to figure it out.”

You were the one on the verge of an aneurysm when you came allover her lips but that’s another story.

“So, we’re gonna do this with no strings, no feelings, just friends hooking up and playing around. Cool?”

Eddie’s eyes fall to the tops of his boots.

“So let me get this straight,” Steve gaped, eyebrows pulled in, “you’re going to go out with the two of us... at the same time?”

“Yeah, kinda what you do with every hussy in town Harrington.”

Steve’s gears are grinding but Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“What the fuck Taff?” Steve huffs in annoyance.

you banter back talking to him like he’s a child, “what’s the matter Harrington, don’t like sharing?”

“Rich boys are used to having their way.” Eddie gloats.

“Oh fuck off,” he pours, “what about sex? Or is this like a PG thing, eating pizza at Chucke fuckin’ Cheese?”

You cross your arms, and lick your lips, “oh we’ll be fucking, but not until you’re clean, both of you.”

Eddie’s eyes finally perk up, he hasn’t been with anyone since last year and he was checked three months ago.

“Oh come on!” Steve whines, “MaKenna is a virgin, and Blair and Nicole have only blown Tommy since being with me— no need to fuck anyone else catch my drift?”

“Sorry Harrington, I’m not risking catching anything and giving it to Eddie because you fundipped your way across campus. Show me you’re clean and it’s game on.”

He pouts, “Jesus Christ… I’ll even wear a condom, c’mon.. I swear I’m clean.”

“What the fuck is this 1990? I have an IUD, just get clean and we can do whatever you want.”

Eddie feels like he has the upper hand for the first time since arriving at your apartment, “W-when does this start, sweetheart?”

“Right now,” you shrug, “ I know you had to take off work today so I’m yours, see ya tomorrow Stevie.”

“Such bullshit.”

“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll take care of her while you’re off swabbing your pee hole,” Eddie says with a wave to his friend, cockiness in his stance.

“Be nice, boys.”

You don’t expect what happens next but Steve grabbed your wrist and twisted you into him, kissing you square on the mouth just as firm as he did in the bed of Wayne’s truck. Rough and giving no grace he leaves you spinning even after he’s left.

“Text me if you get bored with this one,” he says, licking his bottom lip to get one more taste of you as he walks through the door, “bye.”

You cross the kitchen to the counter, lips still buzzing from Steve’s kiss. You pull out two forks from the proper drawer and rip some paper towels from the roll.

Pulling out the white cardboard containers of Chinese food from the plastic sack, you plate them with shaky fingers. The fork in your hand slipping every once in a while and clanging loudly into the ceramic plate.

“Hungry?” you ask over your shoulder.

“Starving actually,” Eddie says, “but there’s something I wanna do first.”

You tear open a foil packet of soy sauce between your teeth and squeeze it all over the fried rice, “yeah, and what’s that?”

Not noticing how close he was to you, his hands rest hotly on either of your hips, fingernails grazing the cotton of your shorts.

In a quick spin, you’re suddenly facing him, fork in one hand, soy sauce packet in the other. His eyes are impossibly dark, and a twist of a smirk lays on his pretty lips.

“I wanna kiss you.”

His lips ghost over yours and your tongue reaches for his lips but is met by nothing.

His breath fans across your lips, the sweetest of pouts escapes you, and his adam's apple bobs in his throat, swallowing your annoyance, “not here.”

His fingers tease the waistband of your shorts, cold steel of his rings icing into your skin, dipping into it with a tentative touch.

The zipper of his leather jacket bites into your palms as you pull him closer into you, and just like that day on the side of the road, it felt easy with Eddie.

You share the same bated breath as his fingers plunge deeper and push your underwear out of the way. Between your slick folds he teases at your clit with his middle finger, swallowing the pretty noise you emit.

“Wanna kiss you here,” he said with a thick fingered flick against your clit making you moan through your teeth but lips, “need to taste you, again.”

You moan his name and he helps you wiggle out of your shorts in a hurry. Feeling like you’re possessed at the sight of him dropping to his knees on the cold linoleum of your kitchen floor, like a sinner praying for mercy in a cathedral—you’re practically begging for his tongue where you need it most.

Two weeks ago you and Eddie were just friends, and now he’s pulling the prettiest noises from you that would make the angels sick with worry,

His lips kiss your thighs feverishly in his travels. Dark curls tickling against the spit from his sloppy mouth. Every sensation in your body was screaming, and you cursed out loud when he hooked your leg over his shoulder like a guitar strap.

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he pushed this tongue into your slick, flicking against the hood of your clit, “so fuckin pretty baby, been seeing her in my dream for a week.”

Nerves wrecked already you’re practically a puddle at his simping words, trying like hell to balance on one foot and carving your nails into the underside of the counter. But Eddie’s face could have held you up alone.

He’s buried in your pussy. The happiest of graves. Nose, mouth chin- gone. All you can see of him down the plain of your own body are his curls. But you can feel him everywhere.

Devil's tongue stuffed between your legs, thrashing and lapping up like a mad man starved. His groans vibrate around you and your legs quake. His fingers are pushed deep in the well of your velvet walls, another circling your ass and putting the tiniest bit of pressure there making you cry out.

His name falls from your lips like a chant, faster and faster until your orgasm peaks and blinds you, your body losing all control from his tongue, your knuckles go white when you grab his hair, holding him right where you need him.

“Fuck,” he groans, wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit once more before he adjusts your panties back into place. Your fingers ache from the grip you had on the counter and in his locks.

Kissing the delicate fabric around the apex of your thighs, he whispers softly, “I could do that everyday.”

He helps you step back into your shorts, that glorious tongue poking out in concentration, and he looks up at you with a shy smile, standing and holding your hands.

“With a tongue like that, I might let you.”

“Don’t tease me Taffy, I’m still hard.”

And now it was your turn to be needy. You pull the lapels of his leather jacket into you and you kiss his slick coated lips, he tastes like you and the salty soy sauce that was still on your lip.

Kissing Eddie was different than Steve, he painted your mouth the same way he lapped at your folds. If you never caught your breath— that would be fine with you. Your head spun around his web and you were tangled in it.

His hands wrap around your back and one holds your face. It was deeply passionate, and your heart was bursting, your lips move to his neck and you suck and bite a mark into him, and he whimpers when your kisses go small.

“This is gonna get cold Eddie,” you say against the column of his throat.

“Let it, I’ll buy more.”

You grin into his skin and he laughs when you tickle his sides, “c’mon,” you urge.

And Eddie gets in one last kiss before breaking away, pulling your lip down with his thumb, and you shudder at the way he looks at you as if you’re the only girl on the planet, “if you say so.”

The Chinese needed to be s microwaved but it was still good., The hunan pork was tender and juicy, and the lo mein noodles were to die for. You and Eddie sat side by side on the barstools and talked like you always had. He had a gig this weekend and when he asked if you were coming you said of course you were, a quirk to your brow.

“Alright,” he said, putting alot of effort and concentration into twirling a noodle with his fork, “just wasn’t sure.”

You leaned forward and kissed sauce from the corner of his mouth, and your core ached and pulsed at the sight of his boyish grin and blushing cheeks.

“Wouldn’t miss it, even if it is Steve’s night.”

He accepted a bite from your fork of fried rice, and almost melted when you held pinched fingers up to his mouth of a ripped piece of crab rangoon.

“We’re still cool, right?” he asks after crushing the bite between his teeth, his eyes watching you put your fingers in your mouth and nodding.

“So c-can I ask you something as a friend?”

His brows are pinched in a furrow and you know he’s uneasy about something.

You slurp a noodle into your mouth and talk with a mouthful, a hand in front of your face, “spit it out, Munson.”

His fork clanks on the plate as he sets it down and gives the plate away. He runs a hand through his hair, and leans on his elbows and picks at his rings.

“So, why— I mean, why the both of us. You and Harrington can’t even stand each other.”

He was right, before last week you and Steve could barely be in the same room together, and now you were agreeing to fuck with no strings attached.

“It’s physical with Steve, like pure animalistic instinct. There’s no thoughts, and I think us hating each other just makes it that much better.”

Eddie’s weight shifts on the stool and his eyes never leave his rings, spinning them in a nervous habit.

“So you don’t like him like that?”

And the truth of his question falls through but you refuse to answer it, you have your own questions to ask, you toss the paper napkin onto your plate and mimic his actions, pushing it ahead on the counter.

“Eddie.. are you jealous?”

You leaned into him, the pads of your fingers daintily walking up his thigh, your eyes blink slow in a lazy seduction and fuck he’s practically putty in your hands.

He licks his lips feverishly, suddenly hot around the collar and his heart hammered a rhythm loud enough to make a tune out of it.

“N-no,” pppft he stammers, “I’m not jealous,” he tries his best not to catch your eye but once he does those hersheys bars give him away and a bubble gum blush tickles his cheeks. He clears his throat with an ahem, and raps his knuckles on the counter.

You stand and wiggle between his legs, pressing one hand further into his crotch and the other on his chest, toying with his necklace, your finger skating the pick left and right the chain making a zippered like noise.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

Eddie is floored, wilting like a flower— all the oxygen and water ran out from the √≈petals. His mouth was almost glued shut, it’s so dry, Sahara would be jealous.

Your lips pucker behind his ear and the filth you’re whispering to him sends shivers down his spine. It’s lust licked and heavy, want me to touch you, or do you wanna touch me?

He answers with a dry groan and a swallow, and his hands find your hips spinning you around,his lips ghost over your neck and you throw your head back into him, pushing your ass into him to feel the swell of his bulge in his jeans.

He’s rutting into your doughy ass, his fat cock loving the friction you’re bouncing against him, you move your hips and grind further into him.

“Fuck baby,” he moans hot against the shell of your ear, catching in his throat.

His hands creep under the hem of your shirt and skate against your skin, the smooth of his nails electrifying each touch. They work along your curves, his big thick hands touching every inch of your skin, rubbing along the lacy edge of your maroon bralette.

The pads of his thumbs graze against your peaked nipples and you exhale. You're surrounded by the sharp spice of his cologne, the muted cigarettes clinging to his jacket, it encompassed you, held you like a hug and had your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

It felt too good. His lips hummed against your neck, vibrating hot and sending goosebumps along your skin, and you wanted more. Needed more.

You followed his hands, tracing the veins on the tops of them with your fingers, pushing your palm flat against them, making him squeeze at your tits, and you purred out his name, a shade away from whining.

Fuck you wanted him so bad. And judging by the firmness of his cock beneath your asscheeks, he wanted you just as badly.

You spun quickly, grabbing his hands and leading him to the couch, his lips were red from sucking on your neck, bangs were pushed up awkwardly from the position his head was buried into your shoulder. He looked drunk, enamored with something you didn’t recognize.

The leather of his belt was heavy in your fingers as you unraveled it through the buckle and the first loop on his jeans. His eyes never left yours as your fingers flipped the button and pushed his jeans down his hips.

He shuddered a breath when your hand cupped him in his boxers, the velvet of his skin soft and warm in your soft grip. He was bigger than you remembered, thick like a stout of beer.

“Christ Taff,” he breathed when you stroked him fully, the pad of your finger running over the vein that ran along his cock.

You looked at him through your lashes as you lowered yourself to the ground, dragging his jeans and boxers with you, “this what you wanted big boy? Wanted me on my knees for you?”

He hums and holds your chin, brushing his thumb across your lips.

Licking the tip of his thumb, you hold his heavy cock in your hands, stroking his shaft slow then fast, “you’re so big, Eddie.”

He swallows his next words when your tongue circles his head, collecting the precum with each devilish swipe. You stick out your tongue to show him the pearl in your mouth, and he almost combusts when you swallow it with a hum.

“Yummy.”

He’s certain he’s going to die right here in your living room, looking at you with your pink tongue swirling around his cock, the way your lips suction around him, fuck, you haven’t even put him fully in your mouth yet and he’s a goddamn mess.

The teasing is too much but he’ll take whatever you give him, if you were to stop now he’d be completely satisfied, he’d have to pump his cock furiously when he got home to make the ache go away but, he’d do it.

But you don’t stop, fuck no. You’re just getting started. You like him like this, flushed in his cheeks and waiting patiently for your mouth. His mouth opening as yours does. Waiting, pleading, hoping that you would finally let your wet warmth surround him.

And then you do.

He stretched your mouth cheek to cheek, a literal mouthful. And he hums. Is he thanking God? You hide your giggle, deciding to take him further into your throat as you hollow your cheeks and slide him deeper with the help of his canting hips.

You hum around him and it tickles him, but he’s so drunk on your mouth he’s muttering sentences that don’t even make sense.

Pumping your hands along his shaft you dribble spit from your throat to the head of his dick, a slimy string connecting you mouth, one that you slurp back up and take him in deeper. His knees are bent and he pulled his shirt under his chin, wanting to see you fully with his cock stuffed in your mouth, your pretty eyes are teary and he can feel you gag around him before he pulls out and you come back for more.

He’s not sure how long you’ve been at this, and he’s trying to keep his mind averted to anything other than your slippery throat and the cute way your eyes are looking up at him.

This was better than the way you sucked him off in the bed of Wayne’s truck. You were solely focused on him here. No other distractions, just you and him.

“Look so fucking pretty, baby,” he moaned, reaching down to hold your cheek, his thumb wipes away some of your smudged make up from your eye, “ do you know that?”

You nod with him in your throat, and he breathes more nonsense as he looks to the ceiling and runs his fingers through his hair, trying not to convulse, but he can’t take it any more, you're working his dick like you’re short on rent.

“Fuck, sweet girl, fuck,” Eddie whines, scrubbing his hands down his face, his stomach burning to give in to you, I— shit shit shit, ‘m gonna come.”

He works his hips away from you but you wrap your arms around the back of his knees, holding him with his dick still in your mouth, waiting like a kitten for milk.

He cums hard, biting through his bottom lip to keep himself from yelling out loud. You don’t stop bobbing your throat, swirling your tongue, around his length and puckering your lips around him.

With his load in your mouth you paint his cock with it, moving it around and around with your excess spit, a hurricane against your tornado tongue, you finally swallow, sucking in your cheeks once more, and cleaning Eddie off in one swoop. His cries fill the room and you finally release him with a pop.

“Jesus, fuck.” He exhales, sleepy eyed. His reddened swollen cock hanging between you both, “c’mere.”

He helps you to your feet, and you tuck him back into his boxers gently. He mutters an embarrassed thanks, you’re smiling up at him with a cocky little smirk. Completely ready for him to pull up his jeans, maybe get himself a beer from your fridge, but he doesn’t.

Eddie holds you to him, his forehead leaning on yours, big hands wrapped around the small of your back. His erratic breath plumed through his nose and his chest was beating fast. You’ve never seen him like this, “Eddie?”

He doesn’t let go, doesn’t say anything, he just moves back to press the lightest of kisses to the tip of your nose. “You, “ he finally says, licking his lips and rolling his eyes into the back of his head, finally focusing back on you, he pulls you closer, enough that his eyes are all you can see.

But whatever he was going to say is stuck in his throat, he never finishes what he was going to say. Just pulls you into him and holds you there, his lips on your neck, kissing you softly. It was a perfect day. You should have known it wouldn’t have been weird between you and Eddie, falling back into sync as best friends and laughing while snacking on m&m’s and smoking from his dab pen.

You end up falling asleep on your bed together, tired from exerting so much energy and bellies full of Chinese. Netflix asks, are you still watching YOU? on the tv on your dresser. Eddie’s tossing and turning wakes you and you grab your phone to check the time. 5 o’clock. Taking an almost four hour nap, but in reality it felt like four days straight.

But that's not the only surprising thing on your phone.

A litter of texts. From the same occupant. The other half of this agreement.

hope you enjoyed, seems like Steve isn’t too thrilled right?

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