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komelrebi-san · 6 months

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gem ♡ boy band ver.

will be performing in a band in talent show and it gave me ideas

feat.: guitarist! childe, drummer! itto, bassist! diluc, keyboardist! kaveh, vocalist! venti synopsis: Hoyo Entertainment recently debuted a boy band! and you are their pretty little stage-styling manager. the catch? they can't seem to keep their hands off you...

a/n: i got carried away oops

tw: MDNI!!, characters slightly ooc, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kiddos!!), semi-public sex, slight voyeurism, dacryphilia, p->v penetration, slight breeding, semi-clothed sex, edging/orgasm denial, hand fetish, praise kink, riding, marking (hickies), oral f!/m! receiving, slight manhandling, size kink, tummy bulge, tell me if there's more!

don't like, don't read.

guitarist! childe

always laughing on stage, bright cobalt eyes twinkling as he played

the kind to vibe with his members on stage, looking over at them now and then with a wide grin on his face

the cheeky smile he sends to the audience, the kind of smile where dimples appear at the corner of his lips, paired along with a charismatic wink, makes the audience go crazy

but who cares about the audience when he knows that you're backstage, watching?

always makes sure to throw his head back at back at the end of the song when he strums the last chord

he knows you can see his adam apple bob in his throat, he knows you can see how the light hits his jaw line, he knows you can see the sweat dripping down the side of his face, he knows you can see him pant and his hair stick to his forehead

he knows he's hot, and he knows you get antsy when you hear the fans scream

he's definitely the kind to stare at you intently when you're brushing highlighter onto his face, or using a blue eyeliner that matched his big eyes

'mhm? you're blushing~' he remarks, raising a hand to push away yours that's holding the eyeliner pen before cupping your cheek

insists that you kiss him before you go on stage, for good luck purposes only!

(not just that though, your lips are so soft, of course he'd wanna kiss them)

'ajax, you're gonna smudge your lip- mmh!' and he plants his lips firmly on yours, long slender fingers brushing against your waist

he laughs when he sees your red face, turning to walk on stage but not forgetting to plant another kiss on your cheek

oh, it's so cute, he thinks. he does it every time but you never fail to please him with your flushed cheeks

he knows you stare at his hands - dextrous fingers, prominent knuckles and veins, he knows you practically drool over them when he plays guitar

and you make the prettiest sounds when his fingers work their way into your panties

'wait- ajax- not here-' and he cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, relishing the whimper that bubbled up your throat

'not here, mhm? that's not what your pretty little cunt says, princess. you're dripping wet, i can just slip my fingers right in.'

you're quite sure that you saw stars when his fingers reach a spot inside you that you'll never be able to reach with your own fingers

he chuckles when you break off the heated kiss, a loud moan tumbling out of your pretty lips when he curled his fingers inside you

'no no no, we can't have that, mhm? people are gonna hear.' childe leans in to whisper in your ear, raising his other hand to cover your mouth as you whined.

'unless...that's what you're into. you want them to hear, do you? you want them to hear how good i'm making you feel? naughty girl.'

he laughs breathily when you moan again, the sound muffled by his hand, lewd squelching resonating in the dressing room when he scissors his fingers in your cunt

'tell you what, if you are good and stay quiet, i'll let you cum. how's that?' and he grins when you nod feverishly, bucking your hips into his hand.

he knows you can't stay quiet, he knew, but maybe he'd play nice today, since you're so desperate for his touch, mhm?

he hears venti call for him, so he curls his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pushing his finger pads against that spot inside you that made your legs quiver

with a muffled cry, you gush around his fingers, juices dribbling down your thighs as your walls clamped tight around his fingers

'good girl.' he says, licking your juices clean from his fingers, grinning when you groan at the sight. 'wish me luck, mhm? maybe i'll treat you later.'

drummer! itto

the kinda guy that laughs while throwing his head back as he plays, especially when one of his band members pull off something sick

twirls his drumstick, it looks so cool fr fr

his arms!

there's this once when you told him being able to play drums is cool, so he tried to teach you

made you sit in the drum stool and sat in a chair behind you, wrapping his arms around your figure to take your hands in his own, guiding your hands holding the drumsticks to hit the different drums

back against his firm chest, veins gliding over knuckles when he squeezed your hands gently

oof his hands completely covered your own bc yours were so much smaller than his

you can see the muscles flexing in his arm when he plays, oof he's so strong

and he knows it, he wears tank tops all the time for a reason, bc tank tops meant that ppl can see his arms, good god

in between songs, he runs a hand through his hair and takes a drink of water from his bottle - but you're right there, backstage, watching their performance

so instead, he gulps the water because he knows you see his adams apple bobble up and down

he pours some of the water on his head (under the excuse of the heat) because he knows you can see the water wet his shirt (sticking to his muscles) and lifts his shirt to dry the sweat running down his face

he sees you staring, really - he sees you staring when he twirls his drumstick and pass it from finger to finger, knuckle to knuckle; he sees you staring when he stretches after a performance

'Sorry about my hair, it must give you a lot of trouble, huh?' He says as you stood in front of him, trying your best to curl the hair that fell beside his face

the way his voice was quiet and slightly husky, the way his large hands were dangerously low on your hips, the way he leaned closer to you whilst pulling you into him - everything about him made you melt

you give him a rather nervous smile before leaving him to change into his outfit, but wait - he pulls you back into him

the way he's manhandling you is so hot, ngl

partially, itto really wants to just prove his strength and manliness to you, to prove that he's the best because he knew his band members want you too (who wouldn't, mhm???)

your back was against the wall, his hands hooked under your knees holding you up while his hips rutted into you

'fuck, look at you, taking my big fat cock so well.' he groans. his cock tip was probably kissing your cervix because he was so big. he gripped your blush thighs tight, groaning when your cunt sucks him back in

'shit, you're so tight, doll.' he pants, laughing at your terrible attempt at trying to form a sentence, only incoherent babbles exit your mouth. 'i bet none of the others fuck you like this, mhm?'

you can barely think as he works you impossibly close to your climax, eyes rolled to the back of your head

'fu- i- i'm gonna cum.' he pants, lifting you slightly so that his cock head pressed against your g-spot every time, loud cries ripped from your throat at feeling the knot in your tummy threatening to unravel

he possibly got even harder at seeing your tummy bulge

'yeah? you want me to fill you up? you gonna take my cum like a good girl?' you couldn't answer him, drool running down the corner of your lips, tongue lolling out, way too fucked out to think or respond. but he knew your answer when you whined loudly, walls fluttering around him

he thinks you look pretty, even prettier than usual - barely able to walk, his cum running down your thighs

bassist! diluc

he's the quiet one

but bc of the kind of aura he has, bro's popularity skyrocketed

actually not the type to wear rings and shit, he likes stuff simple

but! the fans went wild when he started wearing them at your suggestion

upon noticing his popularity dramatically increase, kazuha started including more bass riffs in the songs

actually has a good singing voice, but only shines when he does adlibs for venti's vocals

he looks so good on stage, sheesh

long red hair usually pulled back into a ponytail with small braids here and there, bangs curled to frame his face perfectly, rings adorning his long fingers (very much at your genius suggestion, big thank you)

like childe, he interacts with his members on stage

doesn't just open up to everyone, but feels really close to his band members

he's not as outgoing about it, he only subtly shows his trust in his companions

he gives everyone a reassuring nod before lowering his head again to look at his fingers strumming the strings, or pressing down on the fingerboard

bobs his head slightly as he plucks the strings

redid his hair once in the middle of a concert, but he did it by fixing his hair while biting on his hairtie

ooof that was so hot

gentle in his approaches, generally prioritises you and your needs over everything

always brings an extra bottle of water to the dressing room - oh, one of them is for you

gives you a small but sincere smile as you lean closer, gently dabbing eyeshadow/doing eyeliner

the kind to lean closer to you, tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear before stroking your cheek

'thank you,' he whispers, leaning in to press the lightest peck to your cheek, before making his way to the stage, not forgetting to give you a small smile - a smile that he reserved only for you

oof i'm whipped

he rlly loves it when you do his hair, bc you're so gentle with him

catches your eyes in the mirror as you worked away on his hair, curling iron in one hand, hairbrush in the other, bobby pins held in your pursed lips and clips on your sweater sleeve

your touch feels so nice, oop

oh, you look so cute, he thinks. you look so cute when you're all focused on him, and not focused on childe's/venti's shenanigans

but - you look even cuter when you're on your knees in front of him, pouty lips wrapped around his dick, struggling to take all of him in your mouth

'you look so pretty like this.' he says, cupping your jaw in one of hands

quiet for the most part, but when you struggle take more of him inside your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his shaft and raise a hand to fondle his balls, he loses it

a gutteral groan rumbled from his chest, throwing his head back, reaching to hook his hand on the back of your head, he pushed your head down slightly as he tangles his fingers in your hair

'you're doing so- ah- so good.' he pants, tugging your hair slightly as he bucked his hips, smiling slightly when you gag as his tip hits the back of your throat, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you whimpered

'you look so pretty, good god.' he groans, rutting his hips into your mouth as he cums down your throat

keyboardist! kaveh

pretty!

his hair is so soft!

literally doesn't give you any trouble when you try to style it

tie it up into a ponytail, half-up, braid it - anything works and anything looks pretty on him, and he has zero objections in you trying out new stuff

does the thing where he drums the desk or his thigh or the arms of the chair, his deft fingers playing his keyboard part, tapping away

at first it was really annoying, geez

but it slowly became comforting, calming, even

almost like a kind of silent noise at the back of your mind, soothing you as you do his makeup

big eyes peer up at you, batting his lashes innocently when you are not working away at his eye makeup

and when you are, a soft smile dances on the curves of his lips, feeling the brush against his eyelids or along the corner of his eyes

he's so gentle, so sweet with you, you could practically see all his affection towards you pour out of his eyes

your heart aches when he's around you because his attention is all on you

but at the same time, he wants, needs, craves your attention so bad at the best of times

quite affectionate with you too

ruffles your hair, pats your cheek, swings an arm around your shoulders - you name it

my gosh, have you seen his music scores?

any and all space is filled with doodles of you - and they look so accurate!

he's always focused on every little detail on your face, every tiny perfect imperfection, he can't get enough of you because you're so pretty that it hurts

it's only fair that he captures your beauty perfectly, since you make him look so pretty when he goes on stage

clingy! he's basically half hugging you when he peers up at you, taking in how you were frowning slightly as you worked away at his face, tracing his cheekbone with a dab of highlighter

takes advantage of every single chance he has to be alone with you, and that's how you ended up being pulled onto his lap as his bandmates filed out of the dressing room, heading onto the stage first

'ka- kaveh, you have to go on stage-' you manage to stutter, feeling him grind his bulge into your aching cunt

'shh, you want this too, no?' he whispers, leaning in to press openmouthed kisses to your collarbone

but it was obvious you were needy - small hand fisting and clutching his shirt tight, humping your hips against him to match his rhythm, quiet whimpers leaving your throat when you feel his erection against your barely clothed cunt

'you're so cute.' he says breathily, tugging you closer to him whilst moulding his lips with yours

oh, his lips are so soft, and he tasted so sweet - like strawberry and peach blossoms and all kinds of other nice things, you can never get enough - he tasted just as sweet as the way he treated you

and when he finally slips inside you, both of you groaned loudly, not even caring about other people hearing

you felt so full - his long-fingered hands on your hips, helping you move up and down on his cock

'i can feel myself here.' he pants, caressing the bulge in your tummy with his warm palm. 'shit- your gonna kill me with your clenching- god- just- just relax, yeah? i've gotchu.'

just like he knew all the small details on your face, he also knew exactly how to work his way around your body

'shh shh, you're doing so good for me, so good.' he praises, leaning in to suck on your neck, pretty red and purple marks blooming across your soft skin.

'i'm- nngh- i'm close.' you manage to make out, hands on his shoulder to support yourself.

'i know, princess. me too. cum with me, yeah?' he smiles, pulling you to him to cradle your head in his neck, voice cracking when he feels your walls clamp down on him again

he brought a hand down to swipe across your clit, feeling you quiver in his touch

with a sob, you cum around him, white strings of both your juices dripping out of your cunt as he pulled out

'good girl.' he says, leaning in to press another sweet kiss to your lips.

vocalist! venti

cheeky little shit

straightup just blatantly stares at you in the mirror when you're doing his hair

peeks under your skirt you're bent over, grabbing tools and getting ready to do his makeup (oh, how he wished he can bury his head between your legs)

always always always makes you dye his hair

under the excuse that the other styling team members never gets the turquoise colour quite right

'they can't mix the same colour like you can.' he complains, whining about you rushing off to do kaveh's hair instead of paying attention to him

no, that's a lie, because it literally has nothing to do with hair colours whatsoever

he just thinks that his hair should be only for you to touch and stroke

of course, he's exclusively yours, and only yours

the fans love him - he's lively, he hypes up the concert, he interacts with the fans while singing, leaning over the stage to highfive and take selfies with them

but he's yours, and only yours

stopped doing his braids by himself - must be you that does it!

whines that he can't do it as well as you do, but actually just really enjoys your touch

'ehehe, is this the tint that you use for your cheeks?' he asks, leaning in until you were nose-to-nose, while you are dusting his cheeks with the pretty blush

you don't reply, opting on leaning back to continue doing his makeup

he knew you were only trying your best to convince yourself, because you were staring at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, hands shaking slightly

'you always make me look so good on stage, i was wondering how you do that...is it because you use the same things personally? ehehe, i knew it~' he laughs, teal coloured eyes twinkling in feign innocence as he grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him again

'hey, what flavour is your lip balm today?' he asks, batting his lashes, the rather mischievous glint doesn't leave his eyes as he leans in

but he doesn't wait for you to answer, this little shit guy literally just leans in to sneak a kiss by pressing his lips to yours, relishing the muffled 'mnhm!' of surprise

oh, you are so cute

the fans call him cute, but only if they knew, really, that you are the cutest

you're so sweet - you smell sweet, you and so sweet towards him, and you taste so sweet

your lips taste so sweet (oh, they are strawberry today) - but your cunt tastes even sweeter

he's obsessed with your taste - nose nudging at your clit, tongue eagerly prodding at your entrance, finally delving into your hole when he's had enough of slurping at your arousal

'you taste so sweet.' he groans, the vibrations against your folds drawing another whimper from you

'ven- venti-' you pant, but your voice disappears when he moves his mouth to suck on your clit, 2 dainty fingers slipping into your hole

'fuck- i can do this for hours.' he's almost whining, though really you are the one at his mercy. he was on his knees while you sat on the desk, desperately bucking your hips into his face as he worked his way around your folds

it was so lewd, you think. the loud slurps, your juices and drool dribbling down venti's chin, his whimpers and whines as he buried his face into your crotch as angelic as ever

who, amongst the countless number of fans, would think that their idol who had the most beautiful voice, singing songs that praised innocent, sincere love - would be here, your plush thighs opened wide, muffled whines leaving his mouth as he begged to taste you more?

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thepastdied · 1 year

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Amped Up (p.1)

18+. MDNI. Smut.

perv!virgin!eddie munson × virgin!fem!reader

next part OUT NOW

Eddie loved to tease himself while you studied. He would watch as you sat on his bed, books littered across the mattress as you flipped between them. You were his best friend, and it was so wrong, but he loved it. It was easy to do this when you were so focused on your work. You were so oblivious.

His legs would be spread wide, his guitar on his lap to hide his aching hard dick that pressed against his skinny jeans. His mouth opened as he let out a silent breath, watching the way your tongue darted out and slowly licked the spit that collected on your bottom lip as you chewed on your pencil.

"Fuuuck" He hissed.

You looked over, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry. Just uh.. dropped my pick." He held up the worn-out guitar pick before giving you a cute, dopey smile, his cheeks making his eyes scrunch up.

His smile quickly disappeared when you went back to your book, biting his lip harshly as his hips slowly grinded up into his guitar. He watched the pencil press against your plush lips and wished it was his cock.

You raised your arms to stretch and twist around, groaning at the pain your back was in. He bit back a lewd comment as you moved to lay on your stomach, your ass on display to him. God, he fucking loved those little pink pajama shorts. They hugged your ass perfectly, usually getting swallowed up cause of how short they were. He pushed his guitar down and swallowed hard. His heart rate picked up when you started to kick your feet up in the air, the movements causing your shorts to ride up on your ass even more.

"Oh God, keep going baby." His eyes were half hooded as he fell more into bliss. The chair he was in began to squeak lightly as he bucked up into his guitar faster. It went unheard as the music he put on (purposely) drowned out his panting. His eyes trailed from your ass to your thighs. He wished he could have those wrapped around his head as you pulled his hair and came in his mouth. God, he was close. His thigh muscles flexed as he held back a moan, his eyes moving back to your ass and noticing your panties now peeking through. Of course you would wear lace.

"Ugh! I fucking hate this!" He jumped a little when you slammed your book down, your ass jiggling at the movement and making his hips stutter. You shook your head in annoyance before moving to another book, licking your finger so you can open to a certain page.

"Holy fucking s-shit." He began to breathe faster, though remaining quiet. His hand quickly darted to his stereo, turning up the music a little louder.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his guitar hard, pushing it against his cock. His leg kicked out from its previous bent position, muscles flexing as it shook, his body jerking. His cum exploded into his boxers, a guttural moan vibrating in his throat as he scrunched his eyes shut tightly, entire body jolting at the intensity. His hand accidently hit the strings, causing a loud shrill to echo throughout the bedroom. He choked on a breath before opening his eyes and looking over at you. You ignored him, eyes darting across the page of your book, figuring he was probably mad about fucking up a chord.

Eddie wiped a shaky hand across his forehead, moving his sweaty hair back that stuck to it. He looked down at his guitar, slightly moving it back to see a sticky wet patch of cum on his jeans, a string of wetness connecting to the surface of the guitar.

He quickly untucked his baggy shirt to cover the spot on his jeans.

"Hey sweetheart, wanna take a break? Want to see you play with my guitar." His tongue rubbed against the inside of his cheek to hide his smile.

You tilted your head at him puzzled. "Uh, sure."

He grabbed his guitar by the neck and held it up toward you. "Take it."

You grabbed it and pulled the strap over your head. He licked his lips, feeling his dick start to get hard again knowing that his cum was now on your shirt.

next part->

I had to rewrite this because tumblr deleted my first post of it. Fuck you, tumblr. It's probably not as good as the original, but I tried to write it out as quick as possible before I forgot. Enjoy

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson smut imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddiemunson #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x bestfriend!reader

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jaeyunluvr · 5 days

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ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER WET DREAM

jay manspreading with his shorts + thigh ride 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

🤩

warnings :: SMUT MDNI, thigh riding, kissing (not proofread)

you hear the soft strumming of the guitar from your living room, as jay tries to come up with the perfect chord progression for a song he's been working on.

you continue to fold the washed clothes then tucking them away into your wardrobe neatly until your hearing is disturbed by silence. jay wasn't on his guitar anymore, and you walked to him wondering what happened because he usually gets really stressed when working on music. what can you say? he's a perfectionist.

you spot him in the same place on the couch, except the guitar rests against the backrest of the furniture and jay is sprawled out in a manspread, his eyes closed as he hums to the new tune.

you stared at him and he looked absolutely alluring. the strands of hair falling over his forehead, the way his lips move subtly as he hums the lyrics, the way his adam's apple bobs up and down, the way he bounces his leg in thought. everything captivated you.

you walked around the couch, leaned over and pressed a light kiss onto his adam's apple and then his lips, followed by his forehead.

jay's lips curve into a smile. he holds your hand and guides you to walk in front of him and you follow, straddling one of his thighs. his eyes go slightly wide at your bare pussy coming directly in contact with his skin.

you hear the soft strumming of the guitar from your living room, as jay tries to come up with the perfect chord progression for a song he's been working on.

you spot him in the same place on the couch, except the guitar rests against the backrest of the furniture and jay is sprawled out in a manspread, his eyes closed as he hums to the new tune.

you walked around the couch, leaned over and pressed a light kiss onto his adam's apple and then his lips, followed by his forehead.

he pulls you down by the nape of your neck and leaves a searing kiss against your lips, getting you all worked up. you sigh into his mouth which turns him on so much, he lets out a low moan.

unable to take it anymore, you start moving your hips lightly against his thigh. jay’s hands travel down to the sides of your waist, holding you down as you speed up your pace. the grip he has on you gives you the perfect friction you seeked for as you whimper against his mouth.

jay lifts your gown to your waist as he grabs your ass harshly, landing a severe slap onto your right asscheek. you moan at the rough contact and move faster as your body gets more and more heated.

you feel your wetness spreading over his thigh and lubricating your movements. your hands rest against jay’s chest as you drag your cunt up and down his thigh, pleasuring yourself to the most.

"jay- I'm about to c-cum." you say as you breathe heavily between words and he reacts to this by getting off the backrest, wrapping his arms around you and pushing you down onto his thighs harder.

you let out a high pitch moan and everything seems so fucking perfect. his muscular foreleg against your warm, soft pussy, his strong arms around you.

you feel the band in your stomach tighten as you move faster and faster, now breathing heavily and a series of 'oh my god's and your lover's name spilling out of your throat.

your eyes roll back as you gasp harshly and shiver reverently. your orgasm washes through your body like a flood, heavy sighs and breaths leave your mouth as you collapse against Jay's shoulder while he pulls you closer into his chest.

you unconsciously press soft kisses his collarbone and you hear him speak.

"what about my problem now, princess?"

perm taglist :: @pockettwinzz @alvojake @miss-conjayniality <3

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majestyeverlasting · 1 year

Text

Just Another Friday Night

This piece contains 18+ content and explores the idea of Eddie as a soft dom.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson's been your best friend since fifth grade. And on a night you think is going to pass just like any other, you realize you can't keep running from the way you feel.

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: I hath returned. So excited to finally have this one out for you guys! Hopefully the person who requested this many moons ago is still somewhere in my orbit.

As soon as Eddie feels the pad of your finger meet the skin of his cheek, his lips curl into a soft smile. It brings small lines to the corners of his eyes and reveals the glint of his teeth in the dim light. Concentration sparkles in your eyes like water does beneath the moon.

Both of you are seated on his messy bed. Him with his legs falling over the edge, and you angled towards him with your legs crossed. His breaths are steady, fingers lax from no longer strumming the strings of his guitar.

When you finally manage to collect the fallen eyelash from his cheek, you hold out your pointer finger for him to see. If you’d been focussed on the song he was playing rather than studying his face, you never would’ve noticed the tiny hair to begin with.

“M’kay.” His eyes flick back up to meet yours. “Now what?”

You raise your finger closer to his lips. “You’ve got a wish to make.”

If there was anyone deserving of one, it was him. It had been almost a year since he crawled out of the Upside Down by the skin of his teeth. Half alive. You remembered all the long nights you’d spent by his hospital bed as he recovered.

An air of weightlessness washes over both of you after Eddie blows it off your finger. As if somewhere far away, the course of time and happenings shifted in his favor.

“You can finish your song now. Sorry.” Smiling shyly, you tuck your hands into your lap and wiggle to get comfortable.

He smiles wider, but makes a quick work of tampering it back down.

When he begins playing, you make sure to focus this time, letting the music soak in and flow through you. The passion is palpable, along with the underlying sense of purpose that hangs off the tail end of each resonant note.

You’d been around to listen to him since the days he played off-tune chords with unsteady hands. As he sat playing now, hair curtained around his face, you knew he could easily captivate thousands if given the chance.

As the song winds to an end, he looks at you and his fingers slow as the notes dissolve between you. The only thing left for you to do is applaud. Your approval makes him feel like there’s electricity buzzing beneath his veins.

He absentmindedly strums a few quiet notes to keep his fingers busy, eyes remaining on you. “You’re the first person to hear it all the way through.”

“Really? I loved it.” Honesty drips like honey from your words.

He looks down to the fingerboard so you don’t see the faint flush of his cheeks. “Thanks. Lotta practice.”

When he stands to hang his guitar back on the wall, you watch the way his shoulder blades shift under his t-shirt. You don’t mean to look as hard as you do. There was something captivating about the way he moved. Some days, he couldn’t sit still, but there were also nights like this one where he seemed to have embodied the very essence of ease.

“So are you gonna add it to your setlist?”

He doesn’t answer right away, making sure Sweetheart is mounted securely.

“Maybe after I’ve cleaned it up a bit,” he says. “The turnouts have been sick lately.” Gratitude glints in his eyes as they meet yours.

Playing in front of a crowd at The Hideout was incomparable to selling out a venue like The Garden. But Eddie swore the gratification felt the same. With each new show, it’d been getting harder to find you in the crowd because of how many people had finally started giving him and the boys a chance. He never thought that locating you amid a sea head-bobbing bodies would be a pleasure he ever had.

“Will I be getting a raise for spreading the word?” You tilt your head and bite back a smile.

He plays along as easily as breathing, biceps flexing as he crosses his arms. “You already eat my snacks, steal my jewelry, and make me drive you around,” he lists. “I don’t know what else there is to offer you, but it sure as hell won’t be Benjamin’s.”

You have the nerve to blink up at him like a fawn. “It’s not my fault you hardly tell me no.”

You make it easy to say yes a million times over. Again and again.

There’s nothing for him to quip back with, so he sighs and studies you for the umpteenth time that night. There’s something amused about the glimmer in his eyes, but a fondness there as well. You’re wearing soft pants and a baggy sweater, looking effortlessly beautiful in a way that only you can manage.

Guilt wastes no time prickling beneath his skin when you curl in on yourself a bit, self-conscious. You’ve never grown used to the way he makes you feel so seen. Part of you fears he can see right through to feelings you’ve been fighting to keep tucked away.

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his eternally disheveled hair.

“Maybe I should get better about that then,” he decides. “Start telling you no more often.” A lighthearted smile pulls at his lips.

You look over at his alarm clock so you don’t drown within the increasing warmth of his umber eyes. You’re not ready to fall even though that’s what it feels like you’ve been doing for so long.

He bites his lip in preparation for the weight of his next words, “I’ve been meaning to tell—“

“My folks are expecting me back by ten.” It’s the first thing you can think to say despite the fact that they hardly ever give you curfews. “I forgot to mention it sooner.”

“Oh.” He glances to his nightstand to scrutinize the red numbers glowing on the clock. Disappointment swells within him and makes him fidget. “How the hell is it almost ten already? Thing’s gotta be broken.”

He pats the top of the device as if the right time was suddenly going to appear. “You can’t say for ten more minutes?” You shake your head apologetically. “How ‘bout five?” Another head shake. “Fuck—a minute thirty?”

A laugh bubbles up your throat, making a helplessly gooey feeling melt down the walls of his chest.

All too soon, with no success in convincing you, he’s walking you out to your car.

The night’s chill nips at both of you without reprieve. You hug your arms and break into a jog to escape it faster, leaving Eddie slowly striding behind you in hopes of prolonging his last few moments with you.

He watches you hop inside your family’s old station wagon and give the engine stuttering life. The headlights are soon to follow, illuminating a cluster of jittery moths.

The feeling of his stare boring into the side of your face through the window makes you give into the urge to crank it down, handle squeaking faintly along with your movements.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He huffs out a chuckle. “Where am I supposed to look? Up?” He tips his head backwards, and his demeanor immediately shifts. “Hey, the stars are out.”

You peer through the windshield to see for yourself. Sure enough, countless of them shine like dull guardians miles and miles above lonesome Hawkins. They seem to span forever in every direction. The child in you looks for any surges of brightness or streaks that would indicate a shooting star.

“The view’s better out here.” There’s a persuasive lilt to his voice.

You don’t dare get out of the car. If you do, you wouldn’t make it home at all. It was getting too easy to be in his presence, like he was the bread and you were the butter that helplessly melted on top because you knew it’s where you belonged.

“I really gotta go, E.” You swallow the sadness that wants to color your words as you buckle your seatbelt and settle back into the seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He kicks at a cigarette butt on the ground, and nods. You were always within arms reach, yet lightyears away.

“Tomorrow,” he repeats. “Copy that.”

A silence settles between you. The only sounds that prevail are the hum of your car engine, crickets, and muffled peels of laughter carrying from a few trailers down.

Every time, it was you who pulled away at the eleventh hour before the dawn of something new.

“Good night, Eddie.”

•••

The cash register snaps closed with a resonant clamber. A beat later, you’re reaching out to take your change from the middle-aged lady thoughtfully chewing a piece of pink bubblegum behind the counter. The two of you are the only souls in the store. Humming freezers and a quiet instrumental soundtrack fill the air.

She speaks up as you turn to leave, “You alright there, sweetheart?”

“Just tired.” You sheepishly raise the bag carrying the Melatonin you’d purchased.

Even God knew you weren’t going to be able to fall asleep on your own tonight. You’d lie awake thinking of all the reasons why you should’ve stayed.

You take the time to read her name tag then: Irene.

Her frown is sympathetic. “It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Warmth rushes to your cheeks. She then leans onto the counter and you feel compelled to take a step closer. “What’s his deal?” She studies your face for any hints before asking a different question,

“What’s your deal?”

You shrug lamely, and Irene tilts her head. You don’t owe her an answer, but you can’t help but feel as though you need to hear it for yourself.

“I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared.” She blows a bubble and it pops neatly without sticking to her lips. “But it’s up to you to decide if you wanna be scared forever.”

•••

Eddie’s staring up at the ceiling when a faint series of knocks sound at the front door. Instead of moving, he blows out another cloud of smoke and watches as it dissipates into a thin haze in the air. The breeze entering through the cracked window helps filter it out. It isn’t until the knocks get louder that he’s convinced his mind isn’t playing tricks on him.

What he’s not expecting is for you to be standing at the door.

“Hi,” you say softly.

He doesn’t dare question his luck. “H-Hey.” Eddie lowers the joint from between his lips and turns away from you to quickly exhale. “Tonight, uh, doesn’t count.”

He was supposed to be taking a break from smoking, and you’d promised to help keep him on track. But now, as he stood doing just that for the first time in two months, it wasn’t the joint that captured your attention. It was the reason why, the conflicted look in his eyes that the pungent haze failed to mask.

His next words get cut off with a cough, and he doesn’t bother trying to say them again.

You're met by warmth when he motions you inside. Guilt tries to convince you that you don’t deserve another chance, fear says you’re going to blow it.

“Eddie?” He raises his eyebrows. “I’m really sorry.”

The way he nods suggests he knew your curfew was fabricated from the start. “Don’t sweat it,” he lifts his shoulder. “I’m gonna go put this out.” He holds up the joint.

You trail him back to his bedroom, where your eyes roam idly over the posters covering the walls. Different things to say rise to the tip of your tongue, but none of them spill over.

Eddie turns towards you when he’s done.

“You didn’t have to lie.” Your shoulders sink as you meet his gaze, but he easily turns to humor, “You could’ve just told me you were tired of being cramped up in a trailer. I probably would’ve agreed.”

You can feel the ghost of a smile on your face, but you still mean your next words, “I feel like the worst person in the world.”

His nose wrinkles. “Maybe the fourth or fifth, but definitely not the worst.”

In spite of everything, both of you find it within yourselves to laugh. It feels good, mending.

You regain your composure before Eddie, and upon noticing he tries even harder to quell his amusement. It takes a few extra seconds because he’s high, but he finally manages to get himself under control.

He thinks before his next words, “I wasn’t expecting you to come back. You never do.” A lump forms in your throat as you toy with the hem of your sweater. “And all I can think about every time you leave is how I let you walk away without telling you how fucking much I enjoy you being around.”

You swallow. “I know you do.”

He shakes his head. “I like hanging out with the guys too—I’ll hang out with anybody if they’re cool.” You watch him with doe eyes as he speaks. “But you, you’re a whole different story. You drive me crazy in the best fucking way ever.” Those words hang thick in the air. “When I blew that eyelash of your finger, I wished—”

“Wait,” you hold out a careful hand, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Don’t tell me.” Part of you wants him to, but not at the expense of the wish not coming true.

That keeps him quiet for a few seconds. He’s still charged from his confession, electricity having taken the place of blood within his veins.

“You came back,” Eddie states instead. “Why?”

His eyes don’t leave you, and you take in his entirety for the first time since you’ve been back. Long hair, short sleeve Metallica shirt, faded pajama pants. He doesn’t have his chest puffed out or his chin turned up in that charming way he often does when he’s working a crowd or a group of friends.

He’s leveled. No guard up, no mask on, just Eddie.

The one who’s been by your side since fifth grade. Who could make your sides ache on the days when laughing was the last thing you thought you could do. Who got on your nerves almost every time you were together, but still managed to be one of your favorite people in the world.

“You know how you always say there’s no shame in running?” you ask, shifting your weight. You’d sat in on enough of his D&D campaigns to have heard that phrase uttered.

He nods.

“Well, we both know it’s also worth something when you have the guts to stay. So this is me choosing not to run anymore.” From your feelings or from him.

The room shrinks and grows one hundred degrees hotter when Eddie moves to stand closer to you. He reaches out to grasp your hand, calluses brushing your skin. The chunky metal rings adorning his fingers glint.

Your next breath stalls as he presses your palm flat against the left side of his chest. The quickened rhythm of his heart drums against it fiercely. A mix of vulnerability and courage are married in his eyes.

“Same,” you whisper, and his lips twitch upwards. “Here I was thinking this was gonna be just another Friday night.”

You let your hand fall from his chest.

A grin breaks across his face like dawn, more tender than it’s ever been. “I’m glad it’s not.”

Time slows as he cups your face, eyes flitting over every detail as if to memorize it all over again. “You’re so fucking pretty.” He whispers it like there’s nothing to question, like he's been waiting forever.

You don’t mean to smile as wide as you do. His heart skips a beat, maybe two. He’s done holding back from what he’s been wanting to do for so long.

Not another second passes before he presses his lips to yours.

They move with careful earnesty. Despite the fact that it feels like your entire body bursts into stardust, you kiss him back with an innate sense of knowing. You can feel the puffs of air from his nose fanning over your skin, the way his thumbs brush over your cheeks. It’s intoxicating in a way that makes you weak in the knees. Even with the newness of it all, there’s an air of ease and familiarity that you lose yourself within. You don’t worry if you’re doing it right.

By the time he pushes you backwards to sit on the edge of his bed, he’s taken off your sweater and tossed it onto the floor, leaving your pale pink bra newly on display.

From your seated position, you watch him pull his own shirt over his head, further disheveling his hair. His milky skin hosts a myriad of dark tattoos and fading scars. Anticipation swirls in your core as he encourages you to lay on your back, propping himself overtop of you. He pecks the tip of your nose before slotting his lips over yours once again.

A surprised sound escapes you when his lips begin to plant a trail of kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck, head tilting to give him more access. The moment your conscience catches up to reality, you push at his chest and he immediately pulls away.

“Too much?” He studies your face. You can’t bring yourself to say no because you don’t want it to end.

“I think I just need a second. Sorry.” Embarrassment clings to your words, but you muster a shaky laugh. “I’m not used to this kinda thing.”

Eddie had experienced his share of sporadic flings, but his feelings never ran as deep as they do for you.

“You’re okay,” he soothes. “I may like pushing your buttons, but ‘m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, alright?”

In all your years of knowing him, he’d never given you reason to believe he’d ever discount your feelings. Or that he was even capable of doing so.

You raise a hand to cup his cheek. “Let’s keep going.”

“You sure?” He turns his head to kiss your palm. “Absolutely positive?” He dips down and playfully nips at your collarbone. “Cross your heart?”

You bite your lip to keep from giggling, but fail when he begins to move lower. He drinks in your laughter like it’s an elixir.

He continues a disorderly line of kisses down your stomach, and your mind is beyond hazy by the time he reaches the waistband of your jeans. You don’t utter any words of protest when he kneels to pop the button open. The subsequent sound of your zipper being pulled down might as well be thunder with how quiet the room has grown aside from it.

Your panties are the same pink as your bra, trimmed with thin lace that makes Eddie dizzy. Without waiting for him to ask, you lift your hips for him to pull down your pants. Once they’re on the floor, he runs his hands over both of your thighs, trying his best to memorize the feeling. You briefly close your eyes when his fingers ghost over the soft fabric of your underwear. Nerves bundle low in your stomach to the point where you feel like a live wire laying exposed before him.

“You’re gonna be the end of me,” he says like a scripture.

“Me?” you peer down at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, you. Who else?” He lifts the thin waistband of your panties and lets it snap back down to your skin. “I’m gonna take ‘em off.” He only makes the announcement to give you a chance to refute it.

Rather than doing so, you brace your feet so you can lift your hips for him once more.

You’ve known him for the better half of your life. If anyone, your trust can reside in him.

A string of awed expletives slip past his lips when there’s nothing left between him and your heat. To stop himself from staring, he turns his face into your thigh to suck a bruise into the plush skin. You don’t realize that’s what he’s doing until you feel the tiny pinch that stings so good.

Your silence is perceived as permission to switch to the other leg to do the same. You can hear your heart in your ears, and regard it as a reminder that you’re alive and breathing during a moment you never thought would come.

You’re marked now, his.

He runs a gentle finger from your clit to your wet folds, and your own sensitivity surprises you when your thighs snap closed and trap his hand.

“Sorry,” you breathe, slowly blooming them open again. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, where fondness seems to radiate like imperceivable rays of light.

After pressing a kiss to the space just beneath your navel, he stands and climbs onto the bed with you. You sit up and look to him for further direction.

An easy smile spreads across his face as he settles with his back against the wall where a headboard should be.

“C’mere,” he stretches his legs out in front of himself.

You crawl to him and sit so that your back is pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. It isn’t until you shift that you feel his erection pressing into your rear.

You peek back at him with hot cheeks. “Sorry.”

Eddie drops a kiss to your shoulder. “You’ve apologized five hundred times tonight.” You shrink in on yourself because you know it’s true. “You’re not allowed to anymore, capeesh?”

You nod.

“Now prop your legs up, buttercup.” You can hear the smile in his voice that hopes you caught his rhyme.

You press your feet into his sheets and spread your knees into a V.

His pointer finger finds your clit without warning, applying just enough pressure to hitch your breath. You’ve touched yourself before, but had never taken the time to truly gain an understanding of the deeper pleasure there was to be felt.

Here Eddie was, showing you what you didn’t know about yourself.

He switches to rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb while his middle finger glides through the slickness of your folds, making you clench with want. You reach between your legs with the hope of helping, or perhaps egging things along, but Eddie tuts.

“Hands off or I’ll stop.” His tone is gentle and commanding all at once.

Even though you follow his instructions, he still withdraws his touch. A protest ends up dying in your throat when you feel his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra and pushing the straps down your goosebump-laden arms. It soon joins the rest of your clothes on the floor. You’ve never been so bare in front of another person.

“Jesus, look at you,” he murmurs. His large hands raise to cup your breasts, fingers experimentally pinching both of your pebbled nipples. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more beautiful sight.

You watch with hooded eyes and parted lips. Caught off guard when he grabs your hands and redirects them to your chest to take over for him. You tentatively pinch your nipples in the same way he’d done, sending minute shockwaves through your body.

“There you go,” he coos into your ear. A gasp falls past your lips when his hand dips back between your legs to ease the tip of his middle finger into your entrance. As he pushes it in further, your toes curl tighter.

But his touch disappears yet again, making an exasperated breath leave you as your head falls backwards onto his shoulder.

“Eddie,” it’s a whine. “Are you teasing me?”

“No. I forgot to take my rings off.” They clink as he drops them onto the nightstand. “But I think I will now since you just had to say something.” The charged promise of those words sends a chill down your spine.

You’re begging three minutes later. A melodic mix of weakened pleads, his name, and incoherent bargains that only make him smile.

He’s trapped you on the edge of a freefall. Your thighs ache from tensing, and the strong pulse of arousal between your legs consumes the entirety of your mind. His two middlemost fingers pump in and out of your entrance with no sense of urgency, curling into that spot within you that makes you want to shatter. Whenever he senses that you’re about to topple over the edge, he pauses to let a few seconds crawl by.

It’s scary how good he is at reading you. At holding the reins.

“I can’t anymore,” you breathlessly insist, pressing back into him. “Eddie, please.”

“Sure you can.” He suckles the spot beneath your ear. In your head, you scream at him in frustration but in reality you squeeze your eyes shut.

He doesn’t know who he’s teasing anymore. Listening to you whimper and feeling you squirm has him twitching and straining in his boxers.

Somewhere along the line, he remembers mercy.

As soon as the cord within you snaps, your back arches and your walls flutter helplessly around his fingers. Your orgasm crashes over you in strong heated waves, each one fizzling out in their own time, making you tremble.

When your breaths grow even again, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you as you watch, awed and silent. You place a hand on his thigh to ensure he stays close.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, basking in the warmth of each other’s body, the new air between you. It’s as if you’re waiting to be roused from a dream.

“I wanna keep making you feel good,” he eventually murmurs into your ear, smirking when you shiver. “Will you let me do that?”

The feeling of his erection pressing into your backside suddenly registers in your mind again, and you reach behind you to curiously palm the outline through his pajama pants. He feels it in his bones.

“You can do whatever you want,” you tell him.

Eddie grabs your waist and gently pushes you forward so you know to let him get up. You settle in the middle of the bed and pull your legs up to your chest in a halfhearted reclaim of modesty.

He stalks over to his dresser and scans the cluttered surface with his lower lip pulled between his teeth. You trace his back tattoos with your eyes. After pushing a few stray trinkets aside, he makes a sound of frustration.

“What's wrong?” you ask.

He continues looking. “Coulda sworn there was a condom lying around up here.”

After a beat, you crawl to the edge of his bed so you can peek into the drawer of his nightstand. There’s notebooks filled with song lyrics, old magazines, a Walkman, batteries, guitar picks. No square foils in sight.

“Can’t we still…” your words fade when he meets your gaze, but he gives you an encouraging nod. “You know. If we’re extra careful, right?” Your voice is just above a murmur by the time you stop speaking.

The innocence seeping from your gaze makes a helpless fool out of him.

The next thing you know, he’s pulling his pants and boxers down in one go, cock springing up towards his belly as you watch with owlish eyes. A dark tuft of hair curls at the base, and the head is a pretty shade of rose that’s beading pearlescent pre-cum. A prominent vein snakes along the underside.

You’re more than ready. It’s the lightning in a bottle type sureness that you can’t believe you’ve come to know so well. The second he starts moving towards the bed again, you reposition onto your back.

Though you don’t utter a single word, every unspoken thought from your mind seems to shape his smile. It’s not entirely proud, there’s a hint of softness to it. Something giddy residing just beneath the surface that takes the edge off the intensity of his gaze.

A comforting heat radiates from his body as he positions himself overtop of you.

He reaches between your legs to collect the tell tale sign of your arousal on his fingers, and your eyelashes flutter. “Nice and ready for me, huh?”

The tone of his voice makes you want to hide. You feel small and on top of the world at the same time. Eagerness is written all over your face. And in the way your chest rises with quicker breaths. How your fingers are curled into the sheets.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You’re glad he does because you’re certain all words would fail if you tried to speak.

All you can do is blink up at him, propping your legs on either side of him as he lines himself up at your entrance.

It’s overwhelming at first, incomparable to his fingers. But he takes it slow, watching your face the whole while. Before you know it, you’ve stretched to take the entirety of his length, and his eyes are glued to where you’re joined.

He bottoms out with a satisfied grunt, hair falling into his face. The fullness makes up for the dull ache. Especially as he begins to slowly pull out in preparation for another pump. A gasp escapes you the second time he eases back in, and your face scrunches with the new depth that comes with hooking your legs around the back of his thighs.

“If you wanna stop at any point just tell me, okay?” He tries his best to keep his voice steady.

“Okay,” you whisper shakily.

He finds a rhythm before long, cheeks flushed right along with his chest. He looks beautiful like this. Even his pleasured sighs and huffs rush straight to the pit of your stomach.

“Lemme hear you,” his voice comes out gruff. “Stop holding back.”

You swallow a moan. “‘M not.”

Unconvinced, Eddie rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, and your breath stutters on its way out. You don’t remember being this sensitive earlier, and a few more pinches have your mouth gaping open just as he expected.

His thrusts grow pointedly harder, forcing the fire building in your core to burn brighter.

“Oh, god—Eddie,” you finally choke out, gripping onto his biceps.

He swears he grows impossibly harder, orgasm creeping even closer from its place in the distance. You’re so soft, so warm, so wet, squeezing him in a maddening way. Your blunt fingernails move to dig into the back of his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in their wake.

“Say my name again.”

“Eddie,” you sigh, helplessly clenching around him. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” You sound dreamy. It rushes straight between his legs, and he can feel that familiar coil beginning to wear thin.

Hearing you say his name like that was going to do him in.

A sudden burst of confidence finds you. “You’re so deep—gonna make me come.”

His hips falter and something shifts in his eyes. He starts drawing circles over your clit.

“I wanna feel you fall apart around me,” he says, and you nod because you want that for him. “But not until I say, alright?”

Your stomach drops.

When you don’t answer, he slows to a torturous pace that makes your head spin. “Gotta answer me so I know we’re on the same page.”

“We always have been,” you half slur, drunk on him.

As Eddie looks down at you, he sees a large fraction of his world woven into the delicate furrow of your eyebrows, the way your eyelashes meet the very tops of your cheeks, the part of your cherry-tainted lips.

He lowers himself so that his chest is grazing yours as he continues thrusting, pubic bone dragging over your clit. The feeling of his warm breaths fanning into your ear makes you shudder, and when you arch up, you’re only met by more of his warmth, more of him. There is no escape, nowhere to run. Only accept.

“Wish I could, shit, wish I could bottle this feeling in a fucking jar and keep it forever,” he grits into your ear. “Never felt anything this good… five stars from me.” He’s fighting to hold himself together.

You miss half of those words because you’re on the verge of an ascension.

“Eddie,” you breathe, somewhat startled. “Eddie, please. Can I come? I’m so close.”

“How close?”

Your voice goes airy and high because he’s hitting just the right spot. “‘M right there.”

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” Whining, you claw into his skin with the intent of making it sting, but it only makes his shoulders shake with a chuckle. “I’ll shut this whole show down if you wanna play that game—”

“So good!” you whimper, giving in. “You’re making me feel so good. Just… please.” You clench around him in hopes of earning an okay.

It almost makes him fold, come right on the spot, but he still forces out a, “Not yet, angel. I gotta practice telling you no, remember?”

His constant denial was only adding fuel to the fire of pleasure burning within you and he knew it.

By his next thrust, he could tell the beginnings of an unraveling had begun sweeping you under. Even though he sees it coming from a mile away, he nearly passes out himself when you let go.

Eyes closed, your walls flutter around him in a strong, rapid succession that carries on for a while. You’re being lifted somewhere higher than you’ve ever known. The world fades around the edges, and the distant sound of Eddie’s voice washes over you as your jaw slacks open.

There you go, that’s it. Couldn’t hold back any longer, huh?

Only when aftershocks begin to spark through you do you realize how deep your breaths have grown, and the new laxity of your limbs that makes you feel like you’ve become one with his bed, trembling weakly. A wonderful ache resides between your legs.

A gentle weight soon meets your lower stomach, and your eyes flutter open just enough to see. Eddie has pulled himself from within the warmth of you, and rested his slickened tip against your warm skin. You watch dazedly as he strokes himself a few good times before jolting and releasing onto your belly.

All you get is a glimpse of his blissed expression before he leans down to tuck his face into your neck. You lift a hand to his head and gently scratch at his scalp as you feel him begin to place soft kisses to your throat. You can still feel his cock against your belly, and you work your other hand between your bodies to wrap your delicate fingers around him.

His whole body shudders, and when you lightly circle your thumb around the tip your name breathlessly falls past his lips.

He grunts and makes you stop when you start to do the same lazy motion again, and you chuckle weakly.

“Oh, is that funny?” he asks, wrestling a smile. When you bite your lip and nod sweetly, he pushes himself up so he’s propped higher above you. “You wanna know what else is funny? I don’t think I ever gave you the green light to come.”

You blink up at him innocently. “I couldn’t help it.”

He begins tracing the underside of one of your breasts and you suck in a breath, gripping onto his wrist. He pulls from your hold, and that same hand trails down your body, over your ribs and down your sides. His fingers leave a tingly buzz in their wake. You try not to squirm too much because his spend is still on your stomach.

“I’m trying to decide if I should do something about it or be nice,” he says, ghosting a finger over your oversensitive clit.

When you whimper, his fingertips move to revisit one of the marks he left on the inside of your thighs, and the ticklish sensation makes your muscles tense as you huff out a tired laugh. He playfully quirks his brows at that reaction, but you can see the warmth in his eyes.

You smile when he leans down to give your lips a sweet peck. “I’ll be nice,'' he promises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

•••

When midnight comes, sleep has found neither of you. You’re both fighting it, trying to stay awake so you can continue sharing hushed stories, soft caresses, and smiles that warm you right along with the sheets covering your bodies.

Your eyes are the first to begin fluttering, and Eddie stops talking when he notices.

“No, keep going,” you murmur. “I’m listening.”

“We can talk more in the morning,” he says. You shake your head no, and he chuckles. “Yes. Go to sleep.”

Before you have the chance to say anything else, he reaches out to turn the bedside lamp off. You press yourself closer to his body after he settles back beside you.

Neither of you say anything for a while, so you begin to assume he’s dozed off. When he speaks up again, his words are soft and honest, “This is what I wished for. A moment just like this.”

You mean to tell him that you think you’re in love.

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p0ckykiss · 3 months

Text

good morning love - mark lee

summary -> mark appreciating you in a sleepless state and playing the guitar for you.

-> another repost from my old account!

the plain white bed sheet, wrinkled and warm, looked so lovely with you laying on it–thought mark. lusciously laying there in a sleepless state, eyes closed and lips dry. yet you looked as beautiful as ever.

his eyes kept moving down, examining you.

oh, your bare-less neck, covered in only a couple moles. he felt the need to mark it–to kiss it with his plump pink lips. there, only lay a gold necklace with a small jeweled heart. it looked cheap and plain yet it made you look rich; beautiful.

mark absolutely loved it on you–when his lips met the cold metal when kissing you all over.

mark glanced at your hard nipples poking out of your thin cami top. he loved how it made you most comfortable to sleep without a bra, to feel free. this light pink flowery top you were wearing made you look innocent. it was pretty, thought mark.

his fingers delicately grazed your open stomach and underwear band with his hand scratching you ever so slightly.

mark watched you start to stir awake, your face now turning to the wall. mark barely smiled and finally stood up from his bare knees, moving to sit on the floor. he picked up your beige-colored acoustic guitar against the wall and strung a couple chords, looking to see if you awoke.

nope.

mark started to softly play in the tune of your recently most loved song–that being ‘get you’ by daniel caesar. he admired this song too, finding it so calming and breathy. the soft words spoken about diving into your lover and worrying about losing them. constant worry of just being so lucky to have you. wondering, what did he do to find you?

mark hadn’t thought of finding his true lover, he knew it was impossible, but he’s always wanted to love someone. he envied those who had someone to go home to holding someone in their arms like they were too scared to let go. mark wanted to feel that love so bad. it came sudden when he contemplated if he was even good enough to be loved. the time just taking forever.

“through drought and famine.. natural disasters.. my baby has been around for me,” mark started softly. he softly tapped the chords and bobbed his head to the rhythm. he looked behind and saw you now sleepily staring at him.

you flashed him a small smile, looking at mark as you lay on your right arm. mark blushed and teeth-ily smiled back at you.

“good morning love, did i wake you?”, mark spoke, stopping his singing. “mm-mmh”, you mumbled softly, “keep singing for me”

“but then you’ll fall back asleep”, mark frowned. he didn’t listen to himself and turned back to play. his bare shoulders tensing against the cold air; his slender fingers delicately strumming over the same strings.

you loved mark so much, god, it felt like too much. like, you couldn’t even love him enough. like there wasn’t enough room in your heart to love all of him.

was love supposed to feel this tight? did it sound obsessing? probably.

but, well, mark just felt the exact same way.

it always felt perfect when you were both together and you never want it to end.

770 notes · View notes

sajajhsbz · 11 months

Text

Jealous

Pairing: Sodo Ghoul x reader

summary: Since you joined the band, Sodo has been hostile towards you, but you would have never guessed the reason was jealousy...

warnings: Smut| fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, choking, and spanking.

"it's not my fault y/n can't play fucking right"

"I can't play? Please Sodo you got half the fucking song wrong"

"fuck you"

"you wish"

"ok ok ok" Copia intervened "Let's all calm down a moment and take a break, alright? Sodo" He nodded to him "Go have a smoke"

A grumbled "fine" echoed off the rehearsal room as he walked off, slamming the door behind him.

"god he's such a fucking drama queen" you sighed, having a sip of your water as you sat down between Phantom and Swiss.

"he always has to shout- and always at me! I honestly don't get what I've done to make him hate me so much"

They exchanged a look, a smirk playing on their lips.

"I don't think he hates you, sweetheart"

you snorted " 'sure looks like it"

"I think it's actually quite the opposite"

"What, that he wants to fuck me?" you asked, rolling your eyes "You all do, you perverts" you teased "And if that's the case, yelling won't get him anywhere"

they chuckled "We know baby, but you know how he is..."

"yeah, an asshole"

just then the door opened, Sodo's still clearly tense figure emerging from it.

"yeah" somebody whispered in response, but you were focused on him.

Copia asked him something, but his eyes set on Swiss's hand you hadn't even noticed was placed on your thigh.

He emitted a grunt that spurt of jealousy to answer Copia, and your eyes met for just a moment.

You definitely took note of that.

__ __ __

Only you, Phantom, and Sodo were left in the rehearsal room, as always the ones taking the longest.

You laughed at a funny remark Phantom made and slapped his shoulder playfully as you finished packing your stuff.

"oh I almost forgot" you recalled "Here is your pick," you said, fishing it out of your pocket to hand it to him.

"don't worry, keep it"

"Are you sure? Didn't you have this since you were young?"

"I did, but I want you to have it"

Your lips turned into that happy pout he adored

"thank you so much!" you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

He hesitantly hugged you back

"you were always my favorite" you whispered into his ear, sensing how he shivered under you

"thank you, handsome," you said again, kissing his cheek for a moment more than necessary before letting him go.

"n-no worries" he shook his head, poorly attempting at hiding his blushing cheeks.

He picked up his things as quickly as he could before rushing to the door.

"Uh-Uh, I-I'll see you later"

"bye handsome" you chuckled, watching him scurry to his room.

A loud sigh came from your right, and you caught Sodo rolling his eyes as you turned around

"oh don't worry you're handsome too" you teased, walking to him.

"You gave the poor kid a hard-on just for fun?"

"no, not just for fun, I'll take care of it later"

And there it was, that tick of his jaw as jealousy darkened his eyes.

"what, you're jealous?"

He avoided your gaze, pretending to be busy with his guitar's chords.

"you can tell me if you are..."

"I'm not" he spat

"so you're saying you haven't thought about me that way? that you haven't fucked your fist just last night imagining it was me?" you mocked, a sly smirk playing on your lips "We have really thin walls y'know?"

"fuck off"

You let out a dramatic sigh "Fine, then I guess I'll go keep Phantom some company since you seem to have a stick up your ass" you said, walking to the door, but before you could reach it, his hand grabbed your wrist, turning you around.

"I knew it" you grinned, as he stared right into your soul with his frozen eyes.

"shut up"

you smirked, ghosting his mouth, "Make me"

And at that, he'd had enough.

he crashed his mouth with yours, devouring you as if you were a fucking meal and him a starved man.

His tongue moved into your mouth, exploring all you had to offer as his hand gripped and groped like it was their duty.

He slammed you against the door, making you wince as your head hit the hardwood, he couldn't have cared less as he finally got a taste of what he'd been dreaming about for a whole year.

He didn't know why he had refrained for so long. He hated himself for wanting you this much, and all that hate was oftentimes wrongly pointed at you.

You let out a quiet whimper as he started sucking on your neck, your hand going straight to his long hair.

"see now, it wasn't so hard" you mocked him in between breaths "You could have told me earlier that this was all you wanted"

"I thought I'd told you to shut up"

You chuckled "you did"

"God you're such a fucking brat" his hold on your waist tightened "I think you need something to keep that mouth busy" he smirked "and as much as I'd like to see you kneel before me, I don't think you've earned my cock just yet" he taunted you, seeing the way your eyes had sparked at the proposal.

His hand traveled up your body until two of his long fingers reached your bottom lip.

"Be a good girl and show me how good you'd suck my dick"

You wasted no time taking them in your mouth, closing your eyes as you pretended it was his cock.

He groaned at the sight "Just like that-" he said, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as saliva pulled from your puffy lips.

You hadn't even noticed his other hand sneaking beneath your skirt, until you felt his thumb press to your clothed core

Your eyes snapped open as a muffled gasp attempted to flee your throat

"Yeah, I like you much better when you can't talk" he nodded, looking proud of himself.

"don't you even think about stopping" he growled, eyeing your lips as his fingers found their way inside your panties "if you do, so do I" he threatened, gathering some of your slick on his middle and ring finger and teasing your entrance with them

You moaned, but didn't need to be told twice as you resumed bobbing your head to suck on his digits.

"that's a good girl" he smirked in approval as he pushed his fingers inside of you, leaving you breathless.

"so wet for me" he murmured, kissing your neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them just to the right spot "Such a good slut"

Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head with every movement of his skilled fingers, but you still tried to focus on your task, although his sucking on your neck really didn't help.

"aw, you're already coming aren't you" he cooed, feeling you tighten around him "poor baby" he continued, raising his head to look at you.

"you think you deserve to cum?" he asked, fastening his pace and causing your knees to buckle.

You eagerly nodded, giving him your best doe eyes

Yes I do, please,is what you would have said, if your mouth hadn't been so busy at the moment.

"yes? That's what you think?"

you nodded again

"We'll I don't" his movements cruelly came to a stop "all that teasing... that's not what good girls do now, do they?" he asked, his fingers leaving both your cunt and mouth.

"please" you begged, eyes suddenly teary

he chuckled "That's a sight I thought I'd never see, you begging me"

You wanted to punch him, but god, did you also want to come.

"please sodo" you prayed, bringing your hands to the tent in his pants "please" you breathed

"oh is that what you want? My cock?"

you nodded

"how come you don't use that mouth of yours when you should?"

"yes, sorry, yes, please fuck me"

"I don't know..." he taunted, but this time, you were ready to fight back.

"I know you want to" you spoke sultrily, slowly getting rid of your shirt "I know you've been dreaming about it since I first joined the band" You unhooked your bra and let it fall to your feet before slowly starting to stoke his erection "I know yo-"

You couldn't finish your sentence as he had gripped your hair, forcing your head up to look at him.

"You really are a fucking brat y'know" he grunted, suddenly turning you so that your head was pressed against the door "can't keep that mouth of yours shut for the life of you" he growled, as he undid his zipper.

His hand on your head traveled to the back of your neck, keeping you still, as his other hand gripped his cock and positioned it at your entrance.

"I'll see how you do with my cock deep inside you" he smirked, pushing into you without any warning.

"fuck" you screamed at the stretch. As much as he had gotten you ready, it still hurt deliciously.

" 'S too big for you?" he taunted, rolling his hips "I thought more of you sweetheart"

"shut up" you moaned, "just-please fucking move"

"don't have to ask twice" he snickered, as he started fucking you at a brutal pace.

"f-fuck- 'feels so-so good" you cried out, letting him use you like a doll.

You could feel him everywhere

"Yeah? Phantom makes you cry like this too, Swiss, any of the others?"

"So jealous..." you smiled, watching him from the corner of your eye.

He grunted as he slapped your ass in response "You really just can't help it, can you?" he asked, the hand on the back of your neck moving to the front of it and squeezing it tight.

A fire spread over your body, as a wave of pleasure took over you.

"look at you" he mocked "Finally fucking quiet" he murmured, bending down to whisper in your ear as his thrust didn't give signs of slowing "and all it took was my cock in your pussy and my hand around your throat" he bit your earlobe, making you cry out even louder "If I'd known, I would have done this a long time ago. Would have saved me so many headaches..."

And once again, the urge to punch him was overtaken by the need to come.

You were a mess. The only sound your throat could make were shameless moans as he pounded into you like it was his life-long duty to split you in fucking half.

"Such a good little slut for m-

A knock at the door distracted the both of you, but he didn't stop whatsoever.

"I FORGOT MY PHONE IN THERE!"

It was Swiss

"WE'RE BUSY!" Sodo yelled back, starting to fuck you harder again

"YEAH, I CAN HEAR. BUT I REALLY NEED IT"

A loud moan climbed your throat as Sodo's thumb found your clit.

You had a suspicion that was exactly his goal.

"GO THE FUCK AWAY"

"MAN C'MON I'M HAPPY YOU FINALLY FUCKED BUT I STILL NEED MY FUCKING PHONE"

You would have laughed if you hadn't been so cock drunk

"I SWEAR SWISS, IF YOU DON'T WALK AWAY RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU"

"FINE, BUT YOU OWE ME"

"WHATEVER, JUST GO!"

"I AM"

Your moans had gotten louder in the meantime, and your legs were shaking as your orgasm approached rapidly.

"Fuck- I can feel you squeezing me sweetheart" he groaned "you wanna cum?"

"Please" was all you could muster

"scream my name as loud as you fucking can, ok?"

You nodded,

"good girl" he kept his pace "Good. fucking. girl"

And at that, a wildfire ignited in your body as your orgasm took over every inch of your being.

You quite literally screamed his name as you came, and just as you started to recover from the life-changing climax, you felt him still inside of you, as thick ropes of his come filled you up to the brim.

He pulled out of you and all you could do was smile as you turned to him.

"swiss is pissed"

"yeah well, I don't give a shit, I just had the best fuck of my life"

"you'll have to make it up to him"

"I have no idea how"

"I do"

"do tell"

And at that, you giggled, as you raised yourself on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear

"we should let him join next time"

#sodo x reader #sodo ghoul #Sodo ghoul x reader #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #the band ghost #Sodo ghoul smut #ghost the band #nameless ghoul x reader

2K notes · View notes

yuqiyu · 1 year

Text

Guitar Lessons (Eddie Munson x F!Reader)

♡ part 2

Summary: During one of your hangouts at Eddie's trailer, he offers to give you some guitar lessons.

Word Count: 6.6k

Tags: NSFW, sexual content, cunnilingus, face riding, making out, eating out, fluff, friends to lovers (kinda), slight angst, dramatic reader, no use of y/n

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“How long have you played?” you ask as you graze your fingers over the body of the guitar. It’s smooth and cold, the design fitting right in with Eddie’s aesthetic.

He’s looking at you cutely, leaning back on his forearms against the bed. There’s a sparkle in his doe eyes as he shifts a bit.

“So I see you’ve met the lady of the house,” he says, a slight lilt to his voice. “Go on, take her down.”

As you carefully step over a messy pile of cassette tapes beside another pile of clothes, Eddie makes a grabbing motion and mumbles a That’s right, come to papa. You stifle a laugh, releasing a snort in the process. He shoots a look at you, fully defensive.

Once the guitar (or the love of his life, as he’d say) is in his hands, it fits perfectly like a puzzle piece on his body. His neck is slightly craned over it. You think he’s looking at the strings, but as you move closer, his eyes are closed.

He starts plucking out a couple chords, a sweet melody completely contradicting the visuals you are being fed. You begin to close your eyes as well, allowing the music to flow through the both of you. It sounds beautiful despite not being hooked up to an amp.

It has been only a couple of months since you first met Eddie in the hallway between classes. You recall a head full of messy curls hanging over what you thought were interesting choices in an outfit. Girls were avoiding him left and right as he picked up the remnants of his stuff off the ground after a couple jocks had so kindly knocked them out of his hands.

When you had picked up a notebook that had fallen behind him, a few loose papers with unfamiliar charts and symbols fell out. You plucked them up for a closer study.

“Just getting ready for the Satanic rituals this Thursday,” he mused. You looked up in surprise.

He was a very pretty man, his hair framing his slim face surprisingly well. His large eyes bore into you, and you swore you could get lost in the dark abyss behind them.

“What?”

“Sorry, bad joke.” He looked at you sheepishly, then to the notebook in your hands.

“Right, sorry.” Even after you quickly handed it back to him, he continued staring at you, amused.

“Are you new?”

You shuffled your feet, feeling even more awkward than you already were.

“Yeah.” And the rest was history.

You open your eyes when the music stops. Eddie is staring at you with a crooked grin, inches away from your face.

“Jeez, you’re so creepy,” you laugh as you push him off. Ever the drama queen he is, he falls backward onto the bed limply, the guitar following suit. His hands are clutched over his heart as his face fakes a wounded expression.

“I just gave you the best serenade you will ever hear in your life, and this is how you repay me?” He all but shrieks at you as you continue slapping at his arm.

“ Ever? That’s such a loaded statement, Eddie. You haven’t even answered my question.”

He jumps back up, then pauses for a beat. “I don’t know, my whole life I guess,” he shrugs.

You stare back at the guitar, still being held snugly in his arms. There was no way to stop the idea of you being there instead, but you shake yourself out of it.

“That’s pretty cool, though. I don’t know how to play any instruments.” You copy his pose from earlier, supporting yourself up by your forearms. He twists his neck towards you, that beautiful damn smile beaming a hundred miles per hour your way.

“Really,” he questions, dragging out the word playfully. “How about I, the greatest guitarist ever, teach you some new things.”

“Again, such a loaded statement, but okay. Hit me.”

The next hour or so is not exactly what you were expecting. He has an old acoustic guitar hiding somewhere in his closet (which he searches for with difficulty, under more piles of items) and has you test the waters on it. With the pleasant surprise of Eddie literally wrapping your back with his arms, moving your fingers to the right formations, you are basically floating on cloud nine.

He is a demonstrations type of guy, not an I-will-show-you-first-then-you-play kind of way, but in an I-will-wrap-my-gorgeous-hands-around-yours kind of way. This shouldn’t have shocked you, ever since he cupped his hands over yours just to help you roll some dice when you hesitated during a campaign, at least. You often took sneaky glances at his fingers after that day, how could you help it? The day he finds out about your secret hand fetish will be the day you change your identity, because not only would it feed his already inflated ego, he would never let you live it down. He already has so much ammo against you, and you dread that only one more will put you six feet under.

Eddie was exceedingly patient with you in teaching the strings and the chords, even though you had trouble memorizing where to place your fingers. You wish you could say the same about previous teachers, who were truly wicked demons compared to him.

You let yourself falter and lean backwards, just enough for Eddie to notice. He suddenly peels your fingers off the instrument and gives little kisses to them.

You yank your hand back in surprise and squeak out, “Eddie!”

His stupid antics always make it hard for you not to fall for him. It sometimes feels like he does it on purpose, like he means to fuel your feelings even more.

“Just thought they needed some healing kissies ,” he replies, his pitch increasing at the end to mock you.

“Kissies are only for couples,” you snapped, unable to process anything but the imprint of his soft lips on your hands. You hope you don’t look as dazed as you feel right now.

He simply ignores you and strokes the neck of the guitar, still wrapped comfortably around you. “You’re a natural at this, y’know? Maybe you should get some real lessons.”

“Yeah, right. It sure doesn’t feel like it.” You give your hands a good shake, loosening all the muscles as you sighed in relief. Dark, red lines were etched deep into your fingertips. Looking at them only made the pain feel even more real.

He grabs them again, gripping them tightly. “Hey—hey, careful! These hands have unknown potential! You could be a god with these.”

“‘Thought you said you were the best out there,” you smile, nudging him in the ribs. He feigns offense.

“I am, but if there’s gonna be someone better out there, I’d rather it be you!”

You can only roll your eyes at him as he drops his chin on your shoulder. He must be bored out of his mind right now, so you push for a new topic.

“Why are you being so touchy today,” you tease, turning to look at his face. It is much easier now to admire his features now that he is sitting so close to you. His eyes are glazed over. “Wait a minute—were you high this whole time?”

He gives you a guilty look.

You aren’t sure if you should be impressed that he was able to teach you so well under the influence, or if you should be disappointed. His affections to you often occurred under one and only one circumstance, and that was when he was ridiculously high. He must’ve smoked more than usual. The thought hits you like a crushing weight, smashing through your heart and sinking down to your stomach in just under five seconds. You want to throw your head into your palms and cringe at how hopeful you were, even though you’re already used to the reality of this godforsaken friendship. But then the sinking feeling falls even deeper into your pit when you realized something might’ve happened to make him reach for his stash like this.

“Did something happen today?” You don’t mean to probe, but even stoner Eddie has his limits for most of the time. Sometimes the overcompensation is a little too obvious, even for your obliviousness.

His head is still lolling on your shoulder, though this time there’s a faraway look in his eyes. There’s a silence that hangs thick for what felt like forever, until you feel his chin shift, trying to find a more comfortable spot to sulk in.

“Don’t tell me it’s girl troubles,” you huff out. The thought of it already has the heat rising to your cheeks. It’s one thing to have an unrequited crush, but to see said crush pining for another person was simply soul-crushing.

He must notice your expression, because he looks at you amusingly. “Why? Would you be jealous?”

When you shoot him a deadly look, he only giggles and reassures you. You’ve heard this speech about a million times already: you’re his best girl-friend and no one can ever beat you. To be honest, it’s hard to be beat when you’re his only girl-friend, but hey, it’s still a win. If he has to constantly remind you, though, maybe you’re being too obvious. You remind yourself to tone it down around him.

Eddie suddenly jumps off the bed with renewed vigor and swipes the guitar from your arms before laying it carefully somewhere in the closet, then plops back down beside you. His face is serious, the playful energy lasting only for a few seconds.

You ease yourself down slowly, lying on your side as you soak in the sight before you. His arms are tucked under his head, ankles crossed at the edge of the bed.

“I only ask because I—”

“ Because you care. I know.”

You give him a minute. There are only the sounds of your breaths mingling with each other, and if you relaxed enough, you swear you’d be able to hear his heartbeat. You’d usually miss the peace you had prior to meeting Eddie, but now, when there is no sound of his annoying voice or music or anything , it makes you nervous. Because a vulnerable Eddie is a sad Eddie. There was no easy way to learn this.

“I heard you went on a date with Harrington,” he starts. His hands fly in the air as he continues. You can’t help but stare at the glint his rings give off in the different angles. “Went to the mall and everything.”

It’s your turn to look amused. When he catches it, he presses a finger to your lips, which only causes you to snicker. “How could you ignore me for some jock. Is that why you didn’t pick up my calls that day?” He has such an intense expression, backed up by the furrowing of his brows now hiding under his bangs. He seems so distressed, although you can’t help but smile at him in silence.

“Is that all you have to say to me?” He’s practically begging for response at this point.

“First of all, Munson,” you emphasize as he winces at the demotion of his name. It was easy to tell when you don’t feel like humoring him. Ever since the beginning, it had always been Eddie . When you had tried calling him anything else, it just didn’t feel right in those moments. And it still doesn’t. “It wasn’t a date. It was a double date!”

His jaw drops as he rubs a hand over his face, having expected you to at least try to comfort him, like you usually would. It was shameful, honestly, the way you would scramble to mend his sorrow every single time. You pause for a second, letting the moment really sink in before continuing again. This is payback , you thought. “It was Nancy, Steve, Robin, and me. It wasn’t really a date, Eddie. I don’t know why you’d even care.”

There’s a slight quiver in your voice when you articulate the last line, but you hope he doesn’t notice. However, it seems like that’s the only thing he noticed.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, missy, but I care a whole lot when my only friend in the whole wide world goes missing when I need her most.” The glazed look in his eyes hasn’t faded, but the seriousness is still there. You almost wish you aren’t still having this conversation because it only breaks your heart further the more he opens his goddamn mouth about friendship this, friendship that. But your love and concern for him overshadows it all, and you want to smack yourself over the head for that.

You take a deep breath, inhaling all the different scents of Eddie (if that was even humanly possible) and ponder your thoughts. You like to do it because It keeps him on his toes, you remember, as if he’s always hanging onto your every word, inching closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.

You allow your eyes to wander across his walls, taking in the various band posters, and then back onto the guitar. It’s so easy to get sidetracked in the confines of anything related to him, but the more you learn about him, the more you realize he’s just a huge dork who plays fantasy games and the guitar in his free time. He does a great job at keeping the air of mystery around him, though, and you wonder if people actually realized who he truly was, maybe they’d bully him a tiny bit less. That is, if they weren’t so scared of being sacrificed by him. He shakes you out of your conscious slumber with a couple snaps of his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey—are you even listening to me?”

His hand continues waving in your face for a few more seconds before you swat it away. You’re looking at him with as much sincerity as you could possibly muster. He’s doing the same, though you notice the way the corners of his mouth tug down, like how they usually do whenever you reject one of his hugs.

“Can I level with you?” you ask.

He looks at you strangely, eyebrows raise in question. There’s some clarity to his eyes now, and you feel yourself getting sucked in temporarily. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps thickly. He nods.

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about your love life and who you choose to date, so why should you? ” The words come out with more venom than you mean to, but you couldn’t—no, wouldn’t , take back what you said. Even though you’re lying, it feels good knowing that he at least doesn’t know you have a massive one-sided crush on him. It gives the illusion that you’re in control, and you’d like to keep it that way.

Eddie’s features soften. He looks so hurt, and you can’t bear to look at him for more than two seconds. The room is silent again, though it’s lacking the comfort that usually comes with it. You slowly sit up, and start grabbing your things. Before you leave, he pulls your wrist back. His eyes are pleading.

“It’s still early,” he begins. “If you want to stay longer.” You look sparingly at his face, mostly darting to his bedsheets or the walls. His grip tightens.

“I—um, I’ve got some overdue homework I need to work on.”

He knows you well enough to know that if there was one person he knew that always had their shit together and done on time, it was you. But he lets go, and your heart stumbles because if he had asked you one more time, you would’ve stayed. You guess some things are just not written in the stars, and tonight was one of those things.

He only purses his lips and exhales, “Alright.”

He doesn’t walk you out the door today.

The next time you see him ends up being the following night. He had called the morning of, asking if you wanted to come over for more “guitar lessons.” When you didn’t reply quickly enough for his liking, he simply said, “See you at eight. Sharp, okay, sweetheart?”

Your heart twinges, so you agree.

Eight sneaks up on you before you know it. The night air engulfs you as you rap your knuckles against the Munsons’ trailer door. It rattles violently, so you stop, fearing that one more would completely knock it off the hinges. You hear a familiar voice ring out, welcoming you in.

When you’re inside, you spot Eddie running around chaotically in the small kitchen. Various snacks are being crushed by his arms clutching them close to his chest, and he nearly slams into a table (not without cursing) while tossing them over onto the couch.

He finally sits down among the mess, accidentally on a bag of chips, and it crunches. He makes a butt-shaped hole with the snacks next to himself, then affectionately pats the area and looks at you.

You scooch around and pop open a bag of gummy bears. “We’re starting the movie early today, huh?”

“You gotta return it tomorrow. We can’t have any more distractions now, can we?” He fiddles with the remote, pressing buttons here and there. There’s only static on the TV. He groans and gives it a good few smacks.

“Wow,” you drawl. “Eddie Munson himself, actually remembering due dates, and not even his responsibility? That’s new.” He turns around to retaliate, but is hit by a gummy bear straight to the face. “Bullseye,” you laugh.

He only sighs and walks towards the kitchen. His hand squeezes your thigh on the way and, with an exasperated voice, says, “Be good ‘til I get back.”

The movie ends without another hitch, and it’s not long after that both of you are back in his bedroom.

“So,” he says as he claps his hands together dramatically. “It’s time for lessons by Mr. Munson himself.” He picks up the acoustic guitar and seats himself down next to you on the bed. “Wanna show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“To be honest, not much. Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Munson,” you shrug, taking over and strumming out a few test chords. He wets his lips absentmindedly.

“Well, you seem to remember the C chord, at least,” he nods. “But—” He cups your fingers and shifts them downward. “You’re a bit too high there, sweetheart.”

The touch burns through your skin and sets your mind, body, and heart aflame. It takes you a second to answer. A second too long, is what Eddie thinks.

“Okay…what about my G?” you ask quietly, not trusting yourself to breathe.

“Your G what? G-string or G chord?”

You blink.

He winks.

And your body is at war. The rope inside you tugs between choosing violence or letting yourself melt in his arms. It’s close to betraying you, until you choose fight-or-flight’s third sibling: freeze.

Eddie cackles as he shakes you awake. You feel your consciousness slam back into your body with full force. Your mind is going insane. What did he mean? Does he want to do something? Does he want me ? You’re about to open your mouth, to say Yes! Yes, Eddie, I want you!

“Bad joke. Sorry.”

You wish the moon would become unlatched from whatever science-y, physics-y thing that’s keeping it in orbit and hurl towards Earth and just crush you to death right then and there. How does one recover from this?

Except you do. He spends the next thirty minutes teaching you an easy song that includes the whopping four chords you’ve learned. It goes as smoothly as you hope, until the heat radiating off of Eddie and wafting onto your back is making you uncomfortably sticky.

When you had left the house earlier, you wore tank top with a denim jacket to cover your arms. It wasn’t your best look, but you weren’t trying to impress anyone (more of a self-persuasion, but who’s really checking?). The decision feels like a huge mistake now, because you are definitely not comfortable enough at the moment to let him see your skin like that.

Each touch, each movement, and each breath of Eddie’s fanning over your neck so deliciously gives you more and more confidence as the night moves on. He’s pressing all the right buttons, as if knowingly, and your barrier begins to crack.

You carry on with full composure, as you always have . He gives you a simple task: play at least halfway into the song perfectly. When you do, he leans in, lips slightly brushing your earlobe, and whispers, “Good girl.”

Your face begins to heat up at a rapid rate. Your body, on the other hand, isn’t sure whether it should tense up or relax. Eddie notices and places his hands on your shoulders, giving you quick squeezes sympathetically. It only makes it worse.

Not sure how you did it, but you were able to get the guitar safely on the bed before jumping off of it entirely.

“Wow,” he exhales and simpers. “I just wanted to see if you had a praise kink or so—”

He’s cut short by your glossy eyes and trembling lips. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out, so he waves his hands uselessly.

“What, so I’m just a joke to you?” Your voice betrays you, as much as you attempt to conceal your vulnerability. It sports a matching look on your face. This is it , you think. You lasted only a couple of months after making your first friend at this stupid school, and thinking about it makes you feel ashamed. Somehow, this feels worse than a real break-up.

“I’m—Hey, look at me, please. I’m so sorry.” He’s scrambling to fix his mistake, hands all over you, and eyes frantically searching you for a hint of forgiveness, even if he knows it’s futile.

“Eddie, I need to go. It’s fi—”

“No!” he cries, causing you to flinch. His grip softens on your shoulders, but is still unwaveringly attached. “It’s not fine.”

Even through the thick material of your jacket, the knowledge that he’s still touching you has you squirming painfully. “God, please , stop touching me.”

Now, Eddie’s heart is breaking into a million pieces, and you know it well. Since the first day you met him, you could tell what his love language was. From the way he’d ruffle your hair affectionately after a campaign win, or how he’d pull you into a bone-smashing hug whenever you brought his favorite snack to school, to simply the way his eyes would twinkle right before giving you a first bump every time you parted ways. In a sense, this was a real break-up to him.

His arm slowly slides off of you, with a pained look on his face. He then stares at you expectantly. When you make a move to the side, he reaches out towards you, though not close enough to touch.

“Please don’t go yet. Just—” He closes his eyes and groans against his palms, and you’re sober enough to know it’s not directed at you. If you hadn't felt so terrible, you’d laugh at the way he was repenting. You stare slack-faced at him, and while it’s not the reaction he was hoping for, he takes it as a second chance. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Like how you don’t know why you said, ‘g-string’ or why you just messed with me all night?” you nearly shouted. It takes a lot of energy to force the sass through your pain, but it shows enough to cause Eddie to shrink within himself. You can’t even feel bad anymore. Maybe this was an overreaction on your part. He’s always been like this, so what is different now? In a way, there is still a part of you that actually does feel bad, but only because you let yourself waste away in your feelings without ever bringing it up to him. There is no way for him to really know how you feel about him without communicating it. Even then, normal friendships aren’t like this. Friends don’t whisper dirty things into each other’s ears. Friends don’t playfully flirt with real sexual tension. So it’s not fair that you have to endure this while he’s the only one having fun.

Eddie, on the other hand, wants to stuff his mouth with his fist. He wants to pull his hair out, he wants to scream into his pillow, but most of all, he wants to hold you and apologize over and over until he’s completely lost his voice. For you, he would grovel as much as you want him to, and to him, that would be nothing if it meant you’d take him back.

His voice cracks when he manages to find the courage to speak again. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable with my behavior.” He looks at you intently, eyes roaming your face, searching— begging .

You look away, and it scares him. He’s never seen you cry like this, and it’s even worse since he’s the reason why. His arms twitch, and he realizes that that was the last time he’ll ever be that close to you again.

After a million years (according to Eddie), you sigh, “That’s not the issue.” There’s a fierceness to you now, surprising the both of you. You jab a finger at his chest viciously. “My issue with you is that you keep taking my feelings lightly.” His brows furrow, and it only pisses you off even more.

“I like you, you asshole!” There was no point of return. All of that was out the window the moment he crossed a line. Instead of feeling scared or sad, like you thought you would, you were instead enraged with an addicting fury. “And you .” You make a point to jab him especially hard for emphasis. “You have the nerve to mess with me all night long—not to mention even whining about how I should spend every waking moment with you when I already do…and you know what the kicker in all of this was? I did wish I was at the mall with you! I did wish I was on a date with you!”

His forehead is creasing, eyes wide, and mouth pursing. When it finally opens, he breathes out an Oh. And he suddenly he knows how to make things right.

In your complete, utter mess of a breakdown, you don’t realize that you had balled your hands tightly into a fist until you let go, and the searing pain from your nails digging into your palms lets up.

Maybe you were okay with destroying this friendship before, you try to convince yourself, but the regret starts pooling into your belly along with nausea. You’re too ashamed to look at him, yet you also don’t have the courage to move from your spot. So once again, the room is just filled with the sounds of labored breathing and bated breath, both standing in a face-off.

And then you will your legs to move, to run far, far away. But Eddie catches you first, and his face is sloppily smashed against yours as he pulls your lips into his own. Certainly, this is bold, the boldest thing he’s ever done, he’d argue. Still, he’s unable to withdraw because once he has you—your scent, your soft skin, and your gasps keeps him wanting more and more.

It only ends when both of you come up for air, foreheads still glued together as you laugh mirthlessly. “This whole time?” you murmured.

You can feel the smug grin on his lips as he attacks the junction of your neck. You melt against him. “Yeah.” He continues down to your shoulder after pulling your jacket off, his mouth never leaving you. “So, was I right?”

“Hmm?” You couldn’t trust yourself to speak anymore. Somehow, Eddie has gotten you back to his bed, and you feel his necklace glide across your chest coldly, sending little shivers along your spine.

“‘Bout you having a praise kink,” he mumbles. He’s taking his time on a particular spot near your collarbone, making sure to really mark you well.

You’re too embarrassed to reply, so you hope he moves on from it. He doesn’t—worse, he stops. He’s holding himself up with his arms, caging you in, and looks at you mischievously. “Sweetheart, I asked you a question. Don’t go shy on me now. ”

You reach up to press a kiss against him, but he easily flicks you back down like a fly. His brow arches, though he’s still grinning arrogantly.

“Fine, yes, yes, yes, I do.”

“That’s my girl.”

You moan into him when he’s back on your mouth, tongues slow dancing. You still feel hot, but it’s different this time around. It’s more freeing—like you’ve let something go, and now you’re finally able to enjoy it.

Eddie is a much better kisser than you imagined. You’ve thought about how he’d taste and how it’d go, oh absolutely, but this is real . You memorize the way his tongue darts around as if mapping out every part of you, mixed in with the faint smell of cigarettes and pure testosterone.

He’s gripping your chest as he makes his way down and massages it to Hell and back. You can’t help but love how primal you’ve got him, which only turns you on even more.

“I’ve wanted to do many…many… many, ” he accents each word with a wet kiss down your arms. “...unholy things to you since I laid my eyes on you.”

You strip off your top and bra, tossing them to the side with urgency. He only chuckles at your brazenness before giving both of your breasts a firm squeeze. You push him onto the bed and straddle him. “C’mon, Eddie, your turn.” He looks at you incredulously, then his stare turns dark after a blink of an eye. His hands run up and down the sides of your waist, leaving little goosebumps in their wake.

“My, my, who knew you were so forward? All of that innocence…just an act.” He reaches out and captures your chin, firmly holding on as he angles your face around. The cold air drifts against your chest, causing your nipples to perk up. You release a shaky breath and close your eyes, suddenly feeling timid. “No, no, open them for me, sweetheart.”

When you do, you feel him twitch under you, provoking you to ground back down on him. Your eyes are half-lidded, hips rolling. A guttural groan expels from his throat, and he grips you to a standstill.

“Get—ugh, take it off already!” you whine, clawing at his t-shirt.

He’s looking at you with so much lust, yet it’s filled with tenderness; his hands rubbing circles into your own only reaffirming that. After a moment of silence (in which Eddie is aggressively admiring your beauty), he licks his lips and speaks.

“I want you to know that if we continue, this won’t be the last time. There will never— ever be ‘going back to being friends’ or ‘acting normal.’ Because to be frank with you, princess, I can’t do that.” His eyes take in your silhouette, wandering slowly and deeply, because he’s so afraid. So afraid that this will be the last time you let him see you again. He wants to memorize as much of you as possible in case it gets taken away. He takes a deep breath. “So, if we do this. I want more of you—not just the sex, but I want to take you out. And… I won’t do this if you don’t want that. I don’t want this to be a one-and-done deal. Got it?”

You’re unsure whether it’s the adrenaline running through your veins or the sexual tension you feel for him snapping, but you run your hands under his shirt and over his bare chest. For whatever reason, his thoughtfulness turns you on even more than you thought you could be. You ache for his touch, and the desire builds into a searing pain. He wants to stop you, but he can’t; you’re too mesmerizing.

“Eddie,” you moan out. He whimpers under your touch, and he bucks up into you. The muscles in his hand flex against your hip, fighting against his vices. Who knew having a pretty girl on top of him would have him become such a mess?

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’re not helping me here. I need you to tell me you—” He flips you under him, knee wedged conveniently between your legs, pushing barely enough against your core. He’s frustrated in more ways than one. His eyes implore of you, with the addition of his voice being much deeper. He lets you rub against his thigh for a moment before pulling back. He pins your hands above your head and hovers closely over you just enough for you to hear his harsh whisper. “Now, now, you’re not being very good, are you? Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you beg.

“Understand what?”

“Fuck, Eddie, I want you to be mine. My boyfriend, my heart, my soul, and—” You slide your fingers down his body. “Your cock .”

“Shit,” he grins cheekily. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” He moves to unbutton your jeans as his tongue sticks out in concentration. You don’t understand how he could still be so cute during an activity as sinful as this. Once the garment is off your legs, you return the favor, nearly ripping his shirt off his back.

He quickly pulls you back onto his lap. You continue running your hands down his chest as one of his fingers hook into the hem of your underwear, rubbing the skin of your hips with the pads of his fingers. His other hand swipes teasingly down your cunt through the fabric, causing the thick wet line to fully soak your panties immediately upon contact. You rut against him, despising the barrier that is his jeans. You need to feel him now .

“Patience, sweetheart,” he says hoarsely, right before pulling your underwear off completely. “There’s something I wanna try first.” He pulls your hips up to his face roughly, and your hands land on the wall above him for support. You giggle.

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to put on the reigns.” Your heat is right above his mouth; you can feel his hot breath fluttering across, making you drip even more. His soft lips target your core, making sure to run his tongue over your clit from time to time. In the meantime, his hands continue roaming your body, starting from the bend in your knees to your quite indulgent thighs, all the way up to your chest. As you’re stuck in his maze of pleasure, he catches you off guard and pulls on your nipple. You yelp in surprise and arousal, the electricity of it aiding you in the roll of your hips against his face. He smiles against you, easily lapping up any juices that come out.

It causes you to release your most lewd sound of the night so far, and this man is soaking it all up. He loves that he’s the one to make you feel this way and no one else.

“Bet Harrington couldn’t make you moan like that for him.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up, I wouldn’t have even let him.”

“Careful with those eyes, I don’t want them rolling to the back of your head unless you’re bouncing on my cock.” He continues suckling at your clit and your eyes squeeze shut, enjoying the sensation. You’ve played with yourself before, but it was never like this. You could only get so far with just your fingers rubbing idly as your mind sneaks off somewhere else. Just the way his tongue moves around you so languidly has you close to your climax already.

He abruptly palms both your ass cheeks and pushes you deeper down into his face, to the point where you’re terrified you’re going to smother him—but he keeps it there, firm and steady, and darts his tongue in deep .

Now, you’ve seen this man’s tongue countless times before. Whenever pure concentration is necessary, that one time he provoked Jason Carver in the cafeteria, and the many periods of time when he merely wanted to make funny faces at you to cheer you up, like a child. Have you thought about what they’d feel in your mouth and inside of you? Naturally. But what you failed to understand was the sheer strength and length of each thrust. When you look down at him, you expect to see multiple appendages because there is no way he could work on so much of you all at once. Oh, it is so much better than you thought.

The thin sheen of sweat on his skin has his bangs sticking to his forehead. The rest of his hair falls nicely around him, like a halo under your thighs. The tip of his nose is bumping wonderfully against your button, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He’s looking straight at you, cheeks slightly hollowed out from the sucking motion. He squeezes your ass and gives a single slap. Your arms fall from the wall and land on the sheets next to him. Unable to hold back any longer, you start tweaking at your nipples. The sight has Eddie groaning into you, sending heavy vibrations straight to your folds.

“ Fuck , Eddie.” You want to scream, but you’re afraid that the neighbors might hear. You stifle a few more moans to the depths of your soul, until you feel your climax inching towards you. He answers incoherently into your pussy, but you know what he wants. His hands grip you tighter, helping you grind against his face. With one more hard suck around your nub, your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Your center pulses with each high, and you swear you’re seeing stars. You topple over, body limp beside Eddie as he licks his lips. His face is drenched with your cum.

“Was it that good, princess? I didn’t even get to finger you yet.” He waves his fingers humorously in front of your face. He’s leaning on one arm, admiring the work he’s made of you. Your chest is still heaving from the intensity, and you fan yourself.

“God, yes, it was so—I don’t even—have you done this before?”

“Oh, but of course,” he replies without missing a beat. You looked at him in surprise, then at the mess he made out of you. “What, do I seem like a virgin?” Your eyes are half-lidded, and you feel the embrace of sleep coming over you, but you’re able to muster out a yes and a few chortles for good measure.

Eddie had gotten up in the meantime and wiped his face with a towel, then used another to wipe you down. You croak out a “ Thanks” as he places a kiss on your forehead. He’s about to pull his covers over you, but you grab his hand with a frightful ferocity, alarming the poor man before you. He looks at you in question.

You fight the sleep in your eyes, and yank on his belt loop. He falls over you, quickly catching himself with an arm next to your head. He chuckles. “What is it, sweetheart? Haven’t had enough?”

You palm him over the jeans, and he hisses, but keeps steady. It was the most overwhelming orgasm you had ever experienced in your life, and as a result, your body’s energy levels are depleted. You feel guilty, wanting to return the favor, especially since he still has a hard-on, but it was getting more difficult each second that passes by. He notices and moves to the side of the bed.

“Maybe next time,” he says.

“Next time,” you whisper.

And the world fades to black.

#stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #smut #eddie munson

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sillysowa · 11 months

Text

･ﾟ:* DAZED AND CONFUSED *:･ﾟ

pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Spiderperson!Reader

genre: smut! porn with a bit of plot and a lot of foreplay.

word count: 4k

warnings: sexual content, slight exhibitionism kink, hair pulling (reader has at least enough hair to fist), bondage with spider webs, a lot of praise, oral sex f&m receiving, squirting, biting, scratching, choking, dacryphilia, size kink if you squint, literally writing out Hobie’s british accent, Hobie is kind of a switch, a little use of Y/N, lots of pet names, reader and Hobie use the color system, spider abilities used during sex, reader is sort of fighting back but it’s all consensual!

authors note: first time writing smut! If I missed any warnings let me know, ty!

synopsis: You and Hobie are in a secret relationship, but that never stops him from teasing you suggestively infront of your friends.

—

Hobie adored teasing you, but it’s not like you could blame him—you made it too easy.

You walked into the headquarters common area after a short mission, seeing Hobie hanging out with his friends. Miles and Gwen were sitting together and Hobie was sitting with a very energetic looking Pavitr. You searched for a place to sit as you walked up to them, when Hobie lifted his head, your eyes locking. His expression slightly faltered, a mischievous glint flashing through his features, gone just as quickly as it arrived, but before you could think too hard about it, his smooth voice pierced the air,

“Nice’v you to join us, Doll.” He said, smiling with his eyes as he motioned with an upturn of his head for you to take a seat across from him, next to Gwen. You looked down to avoid showing the others the sight of your face scrunching up, visibly flustered by just a pet name. Gwen and Miles made a space for you, and you sat in it, looking around at the group of spider people you called your best friends, along with your secret lover. The air seemed thick this time around—like something was about to happen. You leaned back in your seat, scrunching your eyebrows at your man. Hobie’s deep eyes bored into yours when no one was looking, your head ringing with your spider senses. You braced yourself for the worst.

“Oooh! Hobie and Y/N, don’t think we can’t see all of that intense eye contact!” Pavitr teased, his eyes lighting up as he rapidly looked between the two of you, talking over you when you started rambling to defend yourself, “You should play that song you promised you’d show us, Hobie! It’s getting late and we all really wanna hear it!” Pavitr groaned, changing the subject, also leaning back and kicking his feet up, Gwen squealing out something about his bare toes. Hobie knew the gang had their suspicions about his and your relationship—they speculated and accused, saying that ‘normal friends’ don’t look at each other the way that you and Hobie do, and ‘normal friends’ don’t touch each other as much as you and Hobie do, but through it all Hobie still had yet to blow your cover, able to expertly tease you in ways that are only humiliating and obvious to you and balance out the physical touch by being equally as touchy to everyone. However, he decided tonight he was going to tease you like he had never before. He was going to play the song that played when he was between your thighs the night before. The deep bass chords that buzzed around in Hobie’s bedroom while he mercilessly ate you out for hours, bringing his lovely doll to her release over and over again.

“Yeah, I did promise didn’t I?” Hobie smiled smugly, pulling his colorful, sticker coated, bass guitar out and leaning forward, his brow furrowed in concentration. Your eyes bore into his, staring at him despite him doing his best to not look you in the eye. Without even looking at you Hobie could feel your nervousness.

“Need a pick, love,” Hobie flicked his middle and ring ringer twice in his direction, beckoning you forward. Your eyes widened, and you slowly leaned forward and looked down, feeling Hobie’s long fingers come up behind your neck, plucking the guitar pick necklace, his guitar pick necklace, off of you. No one else knew of the necklace, something you kept hidden under your spider-suit to keep a little piece of Hobie with you everywhere you go. Pavitr glanced over at Miles and Gwen, all of them equally stunned. They all shared a ‘Are you seeing this?’ look before quickly looking back over at the two, not wanting to miss a moment of the drama.

Your gaze locked onto Hobie’s for a moment, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you glanced down to his fingers, and when they plucked at the strings, the deep bass chords of ‘Dazed and Confused’ caught you by surprise. The air instantly felt heavy, suddenly, you were transported back into last night. The song sent a shiver down your spine, and you did everything in your power to not lunge at Hobie. He played with passion, making faces that were all too familar—your nipples hardened under your spider suit and your thighs clenched together. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your obvious need, remaining silent and bringing your knees up to your chest. However, nothing could stop you from staring directly at Hobie’s long fingers, mind clouded with unhealthy amounts of lust. It was just an innocent song to your friends beside you, but it meant more to you and Hobie, obvious in the way he was playing it. He threw his head back at times, adams apple bobbing in his pretty neck, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, sending a surge of need though your core, and he even had the gall to look at you the same way he had last night, when his tongue was deep inside you, and his hand clutched your thighs, keeping them spread apart for him, keeping you still for him. It was too much, and he could tell by the way his spider senses were starting to go off frantically—a sign of your desire and unease.

With a large palm over the base of the gutiar, and a sling over his shoulder, Hobie was dont playing, “That’s all for tonight mate,” he quickly stood up, grabbing your hand in his, his other hand on Pav’s shoulder, looking down at his stunned friend and doing nothing more than sending him a smirk. “Come to one’uv the shows!” He shrugged, glancing at all his friends and then opening a portal with his bootleg watch, “I’ve go’ta finish what i’ve started.” He winked, pulling you flush against his chest and stepping back into the portal, vanishing just like that.

—

“Easy love, didn’t know my li’l stunt was gonna have ya this bothered now.” Hobie smirked as you pushed him down onto his bed, the glint in his eyes still obvious in the low lighting of his room. You had stripped out of your spider-suit the moment you landed in Hobie’s dimension and now you were in just your pretty underwear. Your lips were on his neck, straddling him with his hands pinned on either side of his head…because you couldn’t look him in the eyes. Whenever you dominated Hobie, he just found it amusing, because in reality he was still fully in control. He could break free from your hold any moment, but he didn’t, not yet. Hobie wasn’t done teasing you.

“You knew damn well what you were doing Hobie, you thought you were going to embarrass me.” You snapped, kissing up his neck and sucking a hickey into the spot that you know makes his knees weak, satisfied with the grunt he fights back and the way his wrists tense up. “I hold up pretty well though huh?” You whisper next to his head, biting his earlobe and tugging on his silver earring between your teeth. Instantly, one of his hands shoots out of your grasp, long fingers fisting you hair and yanking your head back as a shocked and agonized grunt spills from your throat. Your left hand clutched his wrist, as you looked at him with more intensity than he had ever seen from you in his life.

“Say whatcha want doll…but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this angry.” He grinned, You sure I didn’t get under your pretty skin? Not even just a li’l?” He held you in place, your hands tightening around his wrists, struggling for dominance as he leaned in,

“…Hobie,” You whispered, looking down at his plump lips, fighting the need to kiss him and the need to make your point.

“Yeah, baby?” Hobie teased, a slight tilt in his voice, his other hand fighting for dominance against yours. You close your eyes, tilting your head back as he leans in. It would be so easy to get the pleasure your body desperately wants If you just gave in, but you just couldn’t give him that. You tug your wrists back, expecting him to release you, but Hobie’s grip just tightens and he laughs airily,

“What, you really thought I was gonna let’chyou call the shots, love? You know you love being good f’me.” He smiled, dark eyes piercing through you as he releases you just so that he can drag you back to him by your ankles when you inevitably crawl away from him. You gasp, kicking your legs helplessly just for Hobie to web shoot your legs open, silky strings connecting your ankles to the walls. He laughs as you sit up with your hands ready, his long and lanky form crawling over you like a black widow spider as he uses his webs to restrain them beside your head. You’re out of breath, he’s out of breath, and he just looks down at you squirming, admiring his work.

“Come on love, all that talk just to end up writhing under me.” Hobie coos, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip before thrusting it into your mouth, ignoring your gasp, “It’s adorable how you always fight back knowing you’ll just end up crying under me.” He tilts his head, lost in the way you suck his thumb and then his fingers when he slides them over your tongue, moaning at the sight. “Mmm, good job doll. So obedient f’me.” He grunts, “What’s your color baby?” He asks, pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a newfound softness crossing over his features as he check in on you. Hobie loves to treat you like a toy and to absolutely wreck you, but that’s only because if want it,

“Green.” You whine, holding eye contact with him and curling your toes at the smirk that covers his face. He flicks his head to the side, going you a beautiful view of his side profile, web shooting to his open record player where his Led Zeppelin vinyl sits. He expertly swings his webs around to start the soft thrum of ‘You Shook Me,” allowing you to admire the veins in his hands before he turns his attention back to you. Looking down with a devilish toothy grin, watching your eyelashes flutter. He drags his fingers over the expanse of your chest, trailing them behind you to unclip your bra and tossing it across the room, ignoring your protests on how its your favorite. Suddenly, he’s leaning down and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, looking up at you while his large hand palms your other breast. He moans at your taste, swirling his tongue around your nipple and tugging on it between his teeth.

“Always keen on the sight of my girls.” He mumbles, kissing your chest all over. You tip your head back, feeling dizzy as a soft sigh escapes your parted lips. Hobie’s eyes flicker up to you, his hand languidly coming up to your neck and applying pressure, smiling into your skin when you lightly gasp. He trails wet kisses all over your smooth skin, paying close attention the parts of you he knows you like less than him, until he makes his way to your thighs. He licks and sucks them slowly, holding eye contact with you and softly biting into your flesh when you look away. You liked it at first…

“Hobie, please!” You cry out, tugging on your web-restrained wrists and thrusting your hips up. He instantly flattens his large palm over your lower stomach, looking at you with his piercing gaze,

“You’re not getting anything if you’re not patient, angel.” He slurred against your skin with a leering tilt in his tone, deciding to give you what you want, “Be good now, y’gonna be a good girl f’me, Y/N?” He whispered the last part, leaning down and running his nose over your covered pussy, hooking his deft fingers under the elastic band and slowly starting to pull your underwear down. You let out a shuddered gasp, his face lips and nose bumping on your throbbing clit, a primal grunt leaving his lips.

He slides your panties down your thighs, balling them up and and sitting on his knees, “Open up baby,” Hobie taps the side of your face gently, his half lidded eyes boring into your slightly shocked ones as your jaw goes slack. Hobie proceeds to shove your wet panties into your mouth and webbing it shut, grinning from ear to ear,

“I’m so hungry love,” he leans down to your ear, whispering absolute filth that rattles around in your empty skull. You moan helplessly as his long fingers begin their torture on your clit, rubbing it the way he knows makes your limbs weak and your eyes roll into the back of your skull. You look up at the ceiling, your eyelashes fluttering as he sucks hickeys into your neck, swirling his fingers around your sensitive nub until you make a noise that sounds like a muffled whimper of his name.

“I know, I know, I’ll quit torturin’ the both’v us.” He coos mockingly, pecking your nose before getting back on stomach between your legs, spreading your pussy lips open with two long fingers and thrusting one of his fingers into your tight walls with the other hand, looking up at you to catch your every reaction. Hobie was always careful to not hurt you or cause you any discomfort when you couldn’t tell him how you were feeling—But he knew you’d be on cloud nine from just one of his spindly digits. He leaned down and roughly licked your clit, moaning deeply at your taste, looking directly into your soul as he spits on it, continuing his assault on your pussy. You groan loudly with your eyes clamping shut, as you aggressively tug on your restraints. Hobie fucks another finger into you, laughing through his nose when your pussy sucks it in. Hobie curls his fingers up; watching when, like clockwork, your eyes shoot open, muffled moans ringing out through the room. He sucks, kisses, and licks your bundle of nerves, rhythmically pleasing you as one song ends on his record player, and the notorious bass of ‘Dazed and Confused’ fills the room through his speakers. Hobie ravenously eats you out, shaking his head side to side and getting his whole face involved. He meant it when he said he was hungry because he was eating you like a starved man, his face piercings glistening with your wetness. He would speak into your folds, grunts of ‘love this pussy’ and ‘all mine’ tearing out of his throat. Your hips were now shaking, a telltale sign of your approaching orgasm. Hobie absolutely devoured your pussy, thrusting his hips into the mattress at the sound of your non-stopping moaning and whimpering that steadily increased in frequency, Hobie whispered one last time into your sweet, throbbing pussy,

“Cum on my tongue, love.” He grumbled out, a slightly desperate whimper present as he grows needy. You whine, and whine, crying out as your back arches and your thighs desperately try to close as you cum. Hobie eats you out with so much fervor, slurping up your cum and spitting it back onto your pussy again, making a complete mess of your overstimulated sex. Hobie is completely lost in the deep electric guitar chords and the muscle memory of eating his girl out that he almost doesn’t notice your overstimulated cries and the way your hips and thighs are shaking. He gives your pretty pussy one last kiss before tearing the webs off of your ankles, watching them fall onto the soft mattress instantly. He tears his webs off your wrists, and gently peels them off your face, his knees on either side of your thighs. He works faster when you whimper,

“I’m comin’ baby.” He pants, pulling your panties out of your mouth, staring at your parted lips and glossy eyes. Hobie wastes no time in cupping his hand behind your head, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. You’re both moaning and clutching at each other, hands all over. You can taste yourself on his tongue and he knows it. Pulling away and gently lowering your head, hanging it off the edge of the bed. You knew what time it was.

“Hobie~” You smiled, viewing your lover upside down. He stripped naked, down to his boxers. You admired his beautiful dark skin, his beautiful wicks, and his mouth-wateringly beautiful cock that sprung free from his boxers. “Hobie,” you repeated, “You’re so pretty, Hobie, I love you~” You whispered, fluttering your eyes closed as he lined his dick up with your throat, grunting at the sight of how deep in your throat he’ll be when your words catch him slightly off guard. He crouches down, kissing your forehead and your cheek, cradling your head and whispering ‘I love you too’ into you ear. He knows you get all soft and lovey after your first orgasm, craving to please him. He stands back up, slapping his tip onto your lips and gently thrusting into your wet mouth,

“Now show me how much you love me, doll face.” Hobie grunts, thrusting at a steady rhythm into your throat, eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open at the sound of your gagging and the slapping of skin-on-skin. You’re focusing on breathing through your nose while he fucks your throat, all of him sliding in and out faster, and faster. Hobie loses all decorum, panting and moaning like an injured animal as he looks down at you. Fat tears slide down your cheeks from all the gagging, your hands reaching to hold onto his hips while his throbbing dick absolutely mauls your throat. You swallow and gag until you’re sure you’ll pass out, vision bleary while Hobie praises you relentlessly,

“Take it, take it, take it…oh fuck. You feel so good, baby…so good…so filthy love, taking this dick like you were made for it~” Hobie moans, needy and chasing his release. You feel his hips stutter and thrusts pick up in speed, his whines becoming more frequent as he rapidly pants, a mantra of ‘I’m cumming’ spilling from his pretty lips as his semen shoots down your throat, gasping and swallowing as he looks down at you, unbelievably turned on. Hobie slides his length out of your throat slowly, watching you through his dark eyelashes. His cock pops out of your mouth, a string of saliva from his tip to your tongue and he nearly cums again just from the sight. He leans down and scoops you up with ease, using his super-human strength, placing you on your feet and kissing the top of your head as the both of you slowly walk backwards. Hobie’s hands were massaging your skin gently as he backs you against the wall.

“On the wall, my li’l spider.” Hobie whispers, kissing your forehead as you use your spider abilities to cling onto the wall with your palms, spreading your legs for him and hooking your ankles behind his back, panting. Hobie places his elbows on the wall, lining his cock up with your entrance and slowly slipping the tip in before pulling it out and slapping it against your pussy. You gasp at the feeling, snapping your head up and glaring at Hobie,

“Don’t be a tease.” You groan, eyebrows furrowing and hips lifting. “Hobie!” Your lover just looks down at you, cracking a smirk,

“Hobie! Don’t be a tease!” He moans, mocking you and plastering a fucked out look on his face, drinking up your pissed off face. He trails his hand up to your chin, holding it keeping your eyes forward as he leans down to your ear, “You know you love it when I make you beg dollface.” Hobie whispers, biting your earlobe as he snaps his length fully inside you. You gasp loudly and moan uncontrollably, scratching up Hobie’s toned back and making him groan.

“O-Oh fuck! Hobie! Shit!” Your pussy throbs, his long dick kissing your cervix with every thrust. You’re so soaked he slides in with absolutely no effort, fucking you with so much energy you’d think you just started. You both grunt and moan, Hobie staring at you, you staring at where your bodies meet. He follows your gaze, grabbing your hips and fucking into you even faster, loving the way you’re nearly screaming for him.

“Y’like the view lovely? Yeah, I know you love this dick.” He grunts, fucking your pussy ruthlessly, completely hell-bent on fucking you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow. He wants to make sure all the people at HQ can’t help but wonder what could have possibly happened to you to leave you so destroyed, only to see him, the infamous Spider-punk right behind you, kissing the purple hickeys all over your neck.

The room smells like sex and it feels like heaven. Your lips are permenantly parted with moans spilling out and your lashes soaked with tears, pussy clenching around him, in dire need of an orgasm when Hobie suddenly pulls out and tosses you over his shoulder.

“What the fuck, Hobes!” You yelp at first, mumbling at the end of your sentence out of exhaustion. Your back hits the bed with a thud and Hobie crawls on top of you, hooking your legs over his shoulders,

“Just craving a change of positions.” Hobie enters you again, his thin waist and glistening abs a sight for sore eyes. You admire Hobie until you feel your eyes melt, not even aware of the animalistic sounds coming from your throat as he pounds your pussy into oblivion, the bed creaking and Hobie’s fingers feeling like searing hot lava on your skin as he circles your clit with his calloused guitar fingers. To think that you were here because Hobie embarrassed you in front of your friends—you wouldn’t change a thing. The delicious drag of his dick in your warm walls, and the sounds of his impending orgasm are driving you insane. Steadily, your orgasm is building inside you.

“Hobie I-“

“I know love, I’ve got you, cum f'me, gimme one more.” Hobie groans a long, dawn out groan, throwing around profanities as he speeds up, fucking up into you with reckless abandon. He reaches down to your empty hands beside your head, locking his fingers with yours and kissing your open mouth as you both chase your high. The melody of muffled moans, creaking wood, and wet skin slapping reverberate in your ears as your eyes clamp shut and you squirt all over Hobie and the sheets, whining into his mouth as you struggle to kiss him back. Hobie thrusts vehemently, losing himself as he eventually stills and fills your pussy up. You both ride out your orgasms, breathing heavily and breaking the kiss, completely out of breath. Hobie rests his forehead on yours and you’re lost in the moment--He took you to cloud nine like no one ever had. Your chest rose and fell, your breathing slowly stabilizing as you hold eye contact with the man who made you feel this good. He pulls out panting and hissing in overstimulation, getting up with a promise of being right back.

You don’t even process that he left the room until he’s back with a wet cloth and cleaning you up, your head cloudy as you mumble,

“Thank you, Hobie.”

He focuses on gently wiping you clean with the warm cloth, kissing the bite marks and hickeys that cover your thighs.

“Don’t thank me love. ’t’s always a treat to make m’girl feel good.” He replies, genuine love filling his each and every word. Hobie tosses the cloth into his laundry, pulling the covers over the two of you and holding you close to him, spooning you. “You did so well baby, I’m so proud of you.” He whispers, kissing the crown of your head and massaging your skin as you sigh, curling up and relaxing after all you did. “I love you, Y/N.” He whispers into the thick air.

“I love you too, Hobie.”

——

Back in Pavitrs dimension, the rest of the gang are chilling in Pav’s room in various seats eating all his snacks and chatting. With a mouthful of popcorn and a hankering for a juicy discussion, Gwen fills the random silence by addressing the elephant in the room,

“So…do you guys think Hobie and Y/N are like…a thing?”

#Spotify #across the spiderverse #spider punk #spiderman #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x you #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #atsv #pavitr #gwen stacy #hobie brown smut #silly’s fics

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