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#but I never meant to hurt anyone all I ever wanted was to make friends and feel wanted

jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 days

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It's a bit long - maybe it a two-parter? But reader is in love with Eddie and tries to show him, sending him love notes in his locker but he thinks (hopes) they are from Chrissy so she decides to just give up, thinking he will never see her like that so she distances herself completely and he doesn't understand why - she even changes direction when they are about to run into each other in the corridor - and when he finally manages to confront her she just tells him "You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on" and he's like "well, how do you know that, you've never given me a chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realize you were the one sending the notes!"

Request by @somethingvicked 💞

Angst, fluff, pining.

💞

For the last two weeks you had a secret. It was something you hadn't told anyone, not even Robin.

The note in your pocket is carefully sealed in an envelope that you are going to try and sneak in Eddie's locker.

In the last few weeks you have been leaving love notes for your long time crush Eddie Munson. You had poured your heart out in the notes, it was cathartic. A way to express your feelings that were bursting to be let out and it was nice to watch the sweet smile on Eddie's face when he read the notes.

They were all signed anonymously and you disguised your handwriting just enough so that Eddie wouldn't notice it was you. To be honest you were trying to build up the courage to confess to him.

Cautiously you look around and there is a rare occurrence where the hallway is pretty much empty so you quickly rush over to Eddie's locker and slip the note in.

Heart hammering you hurry away from the locker and feel nerves swirl in your stomach. This note was different, a lot more detailed and lovey dovey than the others, you couldn't help it. You were head over heels for Eddie and even though the notes were anonymous, it felt cathartic to say how you felt.

When Eddie finds the latest note at lunch time, the whole of Hellfire is gently teasing him. His cheeks are pink but his eyes are full of excitement, and an anxiousness to know who they are from.

"Who's going to send this doofus love notes though really?" Gareth jokes and ducks to miss the pretzel thrown at his head while laughing his head off.

Then Eddie perks up, smiles dreamily and sighs. "Hey maybe they are from Chrissy?" He looks so hopeful and the words immediately crush any thoughts that you had in which he might feel the same.

Chrissy. He wanted it to be Chrissy, of course he did. She was the sweetest and prettiest girl in Hawkins High, there was no way that Eddie was immune to her charms.

It hurt you though. All this time he talked about not conforming and yet he falls for the beauty queen. Not that you could be too mad at him, it's not like anyone could help who they fell for. You wish you could have that power, to erase these feelings you have for Eddie.

The thoughts still make you feel faintly nauseated and you get up suddenly, "Sorry guys, uh headache'' it's all you can do not to run out of the cafeteria while blinking away tears.

Thank god no one saw you crying. Then you'd really have no way to explain yourself.

That night you're laying in bed and listening to the most angsty music you can find, your thoughts racing about what happened today and stomach churning at what it meant.

You knew deep down that Eddie might not feel the same and at least that was confirmed. It was time to stop indulging in dumb fantasies, it felt like the small bit of hope you had clung onto had faded and now you had given up. Eddie was never going to see you as anything more than a friend.

Maybe it was the push you needed to move on? Or at least distance yourself a tiny bit until these feelings faded.

But how long would that take? The thought of not seeing Eddie every day is awful, you don't know what to do and the worry and despair keeps you up all night.

By the morning you feel numb but full of acceptance at what you need to do.

💌

Distancing yourself from Eddie was hard. He was so ingrained in your usual routines, you were so used to seeing him practically every day that there was this ache in your chest that he wasn't around.

It didn't help that Eddie looked at you like a lost puppy and it shook your resolve every time. You missed the guys at Hellfire too, instead of your usual spot at the table you talked to Robin or Nancy, aware of eyes on you when you didn't sit down beside Eddie.

It was a catch-22, you desperately wanted these feelings to go away so things were back to normal but you missed Eddie like crazy, it felt like a piece of you was missing.

When you saw him in the corridor today, you froze and went in the other direction but you didn't miss the look on his face when you did. It was so hurt and it crushed your heart even more.

You couldn't leave things like this, you would have to say something. Eddie must be so confused and you didn't want to hurt him. But how could you explain how you felt about him, that you're the one who sent the notes?

What if finding out how you felt ruined your friendship? What if what you were doing was ending it, honestly your mind was racing a mile a minute.

Shit you haven't sent any notes in over a week, you didn't want Eddie to get his hopes up wishing it was Chrissy only to be disappointed that it was you.

Obviously you and Eddie really need to talk. Eddie must be thinking the same thing because he shows up at your house around an hour later with a determined look in his eyes.

He's angry and you can't blame him. If the situation was reversed you would feel the same. His furious gaze softens as he takes in your tears.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" His tone is gentler than you'd expect and that makes you feel worse. God you've missed him, you've really missed him.

"I'm sorry" you murmured and made your decision to tell Eddie about the notes, hoping that he wouldn't hate you. "Eddie, I-" he speaks before you can get the words out.

"I know it's you sending the notes" oh...oh shit. You're nervous so that makes you babble and grow even more flustered because you don't know how Eddie would react.

"How?" is the last question you ask and he smiles, all dimples. The smile that you love.

"When you started avoiding me after I said I hoped the notes were from Chrissy, the look on your face...I'm not stupid sweetheart, it became pretty obvious" so much for thinking that you had covered up your feelings, you should have realised eddie would figure it out.

He could be annoyingly perceptive. "I know you don't feel the same Eddie, you're panicking now so you're basically word vomiting, "I've been trying to get over these feelings so that's why I've been distant, I'm sorry"

He frowns, "Sweetheart, I don't want you to avoid me" you bite your lip, emotions rushing to the surface. Frustrated you wipe the tears that are building in your eyes.

"I don't know what else to do Eddie! You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on, I'm trying to do that so I don't mess up our friendship" you choke on the words and try to stop the tears that are blurring your eyes. he stares at you looking absolutely stunned.

"You love me?" his voice is so small and you swear there's a hopeful edge to it but you must just be imagining it.

"Yeah, I'm the one who's been sending the notes, but you wanted it to be Chrissy and like I said you don't love me like I love you so I need to move on" Eddie groan exasperated and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. It tugs on his unruly curls and he groans, once his hand is free, he's gesturing widely.

"Well how do you know that? You've never given me the chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realise you were the one sending the notes" he snaps and you're seriously frustrated.

"Because you wanted it to be Chrissy! And give you a chance to love me? You either love me or you don't Eddie. I can't just sit around on the off chance that you might feel the same way when you obviously don't"

Tears roll down your cheeks and you wipe them away shakily, you're emotionally spent and you just want to go home and have some time for yourself.

Eddie softens and his hands are on your shoulder, soothing and tender. "You're not listening, I want a chance to love you because I am in love with you"

Oh... "You do, you reply hopeful and he nods, keeping his gaze on you. What about Chrissy?" he shakes his head and his hand moves up to caress your cheek, his gaze is soft and full of adoration.

"Just a dumb crush. I'm over her now. What I feel for you...you're all I think about sweetheart, shit I think almost losing you helped give me a uh, knock on the head" you giggle and he ducks his head looking almost shy.

"Can I kiss you?" you nod eagerly and it doesn't take long for his lips to meet yours. Eddie pulls away after a few seconds and looks completely blissed out. It's exactly how you feel. Wow.

"Shit, I am an idiot, could have been doing that for a while now if I wasn't so oblivious" you stifle a smile and he's grinning too, smiling as he kisses you again.

And again. Showing you how much he loves you.

💞💌

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #friends to lovers #eddie munson x y/n

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mezmer · 23 hours

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And before I say another word, I will always feel nothing but empathy for those who suffer chronic pain and I only wish I could make a difference and support these people because I know how much it means to them. Jjahaahaha why the fuck is it so hard for people to talk with me about scoliosis. Epilepsy they're all ears asking me questions. And women with Endo? LOOOVE to talk about their condition. Haa. And of course I genuinely, organically, love to listen to others talk about their chronic illnesses because I know how important it is, and I'm interested to hear their experiences. No hate on women with endometriosis. They just love to talk about it especially when people listen intently. It just hurts so bad how hard it is to get even my own family to give a single fuck beyond "I'm sorry wow changes subject immediately" or "yeah I knew a girl with that back in high school" shit blows my mind. I'm not selfish for wanting an ounce of attention paid to it because I've hardly ever gotten that. I connected to my friend with scoliosis who died of an overdose. Fleetingly, a five minute conversation that meant the entire world, I could cry. The face she made, while telling me what I already know, my truth per se she lived all the same and she lost the battle. God bless her soul and her daughter who lives on. Plus my spinal therapist, Isabella and Ravi, and that is it.

Haha I've known women with scoliosis who are so turned off by me trying to connect. John tells me, well maybe you shouldn't dwell on it. When the fuck do I? Yeah, right now on my tumblr. Irl I dont say a fucking word because nobody has ever cared.

Oh my God, so worth mentioning. When I was younger and naive, I had men find out about my spinal deformity and show so much concern right up to the point they'd say "would a back rub help?" Just to get me to expose my body and allow them to touch my bare skin. I was so fucking foolish. I was so young and so excited anyone cared. I just thought since I mostly spent my time with men, it would make sense they'd show concern. Well, turns out women don't offer teenage girls backrubs. So idiotic. I yearn for anyone to give a fuck. I don't understand why I get fucking interviewed about epilepsy but my spine (bane of my existence, actively ruins almost every aspect of my life, I never have flare-ups, my spine is constantly regressing and worsening. I wake up every morning in a deformed body that is collapsing in on itself. Lol) and I mean whatever. Like I said, I'm hardly asking anything. If things were 5% better. If my family just asked how it's going. I don't give a fuck about anyone helping me with the groceries, I just want somebody to care and it's been like this since my diagnosis. My own parents cut the conversation short every time. What is wrong with the way I speak?

#Idgaf please read it for fucks sake. .

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faexoxoxoxo · 4 months

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My Love Mine All Mine...

Pairing : Alpha!Gojo Satoru x fem!Omega reader

Warning : 18+, breeding kink,...

Alpha! Satoru who always laughed at the idea of soulmates and destined lovers, considered himself too free-spirited to ever get saddled down with such a domestic way of life.

Alpha! Satoru who's famously known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake, "not my fault they get attached..." Was the response he'd give whenever asked about the way he treated the woman who fell for him.

Alpha! Satoru who gets annoyed every time the clan elders force him to attend the yearly moon festival, where unmated members of different clans would gather in hopes of finding their mate, a tradition he has no interest in, but regardless is made to partake in every year.

Alpha! Satoru who stands in a corner alone trying to avoid all the desperate omegas who usually swarm towards him, each attempting to convince him they were meant to be his mate.

Alpha! Satoru who feels his whole body tense up when he catches a whiff of an intoxicating smell in the air, one that causes the logical part of his brain to shut down as a more predatory side of him surfaces.

Alpha! Satoru whose eyes frantically searches the area as he makes his way around the large room, shoving and passing the people in his way, heart pounding furiously in his chest while he tries to pinpoint the location of the scent.

Alpha! Satoru who gets a rush of excitement when he finally finds the source of the delectable aroma, you.

Alpha! Satoru who approaches slowly, scanning you from head to toe, taking in every little detail.

Alpha! Satoru who knows you're his mate, the other half of his soul, he doesn't know what to feel, never having wanted this, yet can't bring himself to turn away from you as the surge of desire to claim you on the spot washes over him.

Alpha! Satoru who lets out a low warning growl, as he sees you take a step back, standing behind your friends, his eyes narrowed as if to say, "Don't even think about running away from me." Striding forward, his presence was enough for your friends to back down, giving you an apologetic look before leaving you alone with Satoru.

Alpha! Satoru who noticed the change in your scent, how it went from sweet to sour, making him regret how aggressively he behaved. The last thing he ever wanted was to spook his little mate away. "No need to be afraid, princess," he attempted to ease your worries. "Promise I won't bite, unless you want me to..." he adds playfully, hoping to make you see he wasn't a threat.

Alpha! Satoru who sighs in relief when you nod, accepting his apology, a soft smile on your face as you agree to let him court you. "You won't regret this, princess !" He grinned, pulling you close and nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Alpha! Satoru who goes above and beyond to prove he's the perfect mate for you, pulling out all the stops by sending you flowers and presents, taking you on little dates whenever he's free, and showering you with affection. His gentle attitude towards you, shocking everyone who'd known the old him. No one could've imagined a day would come when the Gojo Satoru would behave like a lovesick teenager.

Alpha! Satoru whose love for you, grows deeper and deeper with each passing day, and with it, so does his possessiveness. Every once in a while, his instincts scream at him to rip out the throats of anyone other than him who gets close to you.

Alpha! Satoru who gets even more clingy when your heat approaches, finding it harder to keep his hands to himself, especially when you smell so damn good, it's like you're begging him to fuck his pups into you.

Alpha! Satoru who forgets all restraint the moment he gets a call from you begging for him to come home as your heat started earlier than expected, "please...please...please alpha need you in me so bad it h..hurts..." The words had him racing back home, business could wait, right now; he needed to be balls deep inside his precious mate.

Alpha! Satoru who walked into your bedroom and saw you, curled into the sheets, humping a pillow, trying to get some relief, but the moment you see him, you'd abandoned that instead getting up to pull him into your nest.

Alpha! Satoru who planned to take it nice and slow knowing this was your first time ever having cock inside you, but before he could get to prepping your virgin cunt, you'd unbuckled his belt, taking out his throbbing shaft, and slipped him inside your sopping pussy, but then bursting into tears at the feeling of getting stretched out, droplets of blood staining his cock.

Alpha! Satoru who hushes you, "Told you not to be impatient, princess...see what happens when you don't listen to daddy...It's okay, I got you..." he takes over, flipping you on your back, his hands working around your body, trailing kisses down your neck to distract you from the pain as he's slowly rocking back and forth, trying to get you used to the feeling of his cock.

Alpha! Satoru who loses himself to the sensation of your tight warm hole sucking him in, the feeling of his tip bullying your sweet spot with his rough thrusts, making you moan, once pain now turned to pleasure, your hips moving up to meet his, legs wrapped around his waist as your fingers dug into his back, drawing blood, earning a grunt from Satoru, who loved it whenever you played a little rough with him.

Alpha! Satoru who's lost count of how many times he had you creaming around his cock, not planning on stopping until he's given you every last drop of his cum in his balls, the image of you swollen heavy with his pups making him pound into you with a ruthless pace, watching the mixture of your juice and his seed dribbling on to the bed.

Alpha! Satoru who doesn't pull out even after you're both done, "good girl...gotta keep daddy's load inside to make sure it takes..." he coos, wrapping his arms around your exhausted frame as you drift into sleep, his fingers rubbing your swollen cum filled tummy, silently promising to forever keep you and your future pups safe...

A/N - it's 3am and I'm done lol not sure how well i worded all the words but it was my first time writing for gojo so hope everyone who reads enjoys this !

Thinking of maybe writing something something for geto soon soooo stay tuned...

Vampire Suguru fic

Likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

#fae.xoxo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #yandere #gojo satoru headcanons #alpha x omega #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse

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dr3c0mix · 5 months

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My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #oc yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere oc #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere x male reader #x reader #rockstar x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #oc x reader #yandere x you #opossumdoodles

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iceandpeaches · 3 months

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hi idk if you know the summer i turned pretty but there’s a scene where a character says “My chest physically hurts not being able to tell her how. much I love her” and I can just imagine luke being in love with a poseidon!daughter where her dad doesn’t approve of anyone for her. He tells percy about his chest hurting and will catch glimpses of Luke actually placing a hand on his chest whenever percy’s sister is around or walks away 😫😫😫 bonus if he actually PRAYS to poseidon angst but fluff ughhh

oh anon you cooked… the praying to poseidon part made my own chest hurt hurt.. i'm kinda familiar with tsitp but i never watched it.. sorry this is kinda long!! i hope this was good🙈🙈🙈

my chest hurts; luke castellan

for years, luke had been hopelessly in love with you. from the moment you step foot at camp after being attacked, he knew he wouldn’t love anybody other than you. he was excited he could spend time with you while you were still unclaimed, but upset when you were claimed by poseidon. he couldn’t spend every moment with you anymore, by your side, your best friend.

he was devasted that he couldn’t see you from the moment he woke up till the moment he fell asleep. with you now residing in the quiet and slightly eery poseidon cabin, you were only part of his dreams if the gods allowed it.

and with poseidon being your father, he wanted to be in your life. which meant that with you and percy, he wanted to keep his children safe from the world and people that could harm you. which is why, poseidon declared to deny any boy who asked for his blessing to date you. upon hearing such, luke never gave up hope. he’d find a way to persuade your father, somehow.

luke headed to your cabin to look for you, walking in since he knew it would be open. it wasn’t like there were hundreds of kids running in and out all day.

“hey y/n– oh. is she not here?”

luke glanced down at your younger brother, sat by the body of water that sat in the middle of your cabin. poseidon kids.

“yeah she’s.. mad at me right now. she went for a swim.”

“oh. then i’ll wait for her to come back.”

luke sat by percy, fingers tapping against the area that held a pool of water. he got bored after a while, turning to percy he stared out into the opening of the cabin door.

“hey percy.. could i tell you something?”

“yeah, what’s up?”

“it’s just.. i want to be with y/n. i think about her all the time. and it hurts, like my chest physically hurts. to be able to tell her that i’m in love with her.”

luke gripped his shirt, thinking about every moment you smiled at him, laughed at his jokes, your eyes lighting up everytime you mention something about the water or going for a late night swim, every hug, everything you did. there was something so special about you, and he wanted you to know how special you were to him. percy watched as his friend’s grip tightened on a portion of his clothing, brows creased into a frown.

an hour or so passed, and you’d come back from your cool off swim. luke’s lips curled into a gentle smile, noticing that your hair was wet which emphasised the curls in your hair. your expression brightened upon seeing luke, your towel wrapped around your shoulders.

“luke! what are you doing here?”

“well, you’re late.”

“to?”

“bracelet making with the hermes cabin.. duh! only the best cabin ever.”

you refrained from laughing, patting him on the back. you nod in acknowledgment, grabbing a fresh camp tee and a pair of shorts to slip into running toward the bathrooms to go change. luke smiled, feeling pressure in his chest again which caused him to grip his shirt as he followed behind you.

for the next few days, luke’s chest hurt more than it usually did. for after every interaction with you, he had to take a moment to himself to breathe it out. several times percy had caught him with a hand on his chest whenever you’d walk away to tend to another camper’s needs. luke could’ve sworn he felt raindrops and thunder every now and then, hoping it wasn’t poseidon angry at him or something.

luke tossed and turned in bed, the thought of you still fresh in his mind. you never left his mind, all he thought about was you. he slipped out of his bunk, then out a window to find a spot to burn an offering – not to his father, but yours. he lit a match, putting in into his tin can then burning away a piece of bread he had wanted to finish off in the morning which he’d miss most.

he watched the bread burn, tossing it into the small tin can. he fiddled with the drawstring of his hoodie, thinking of what he’d like to say as a prayer to your father.

“hi mr poseidon. i am luke castellan. son of.. hermes. i.. i don’t know how to explain this.”

he fumbled with his words, his mind incapable of configuring sentences he would’ve formerly said to the poseidon. it was messing with his brain.

“i like your daughter. and i know that, you’d want her to have a guy good enough for her. i may not be that guy but.. i was hoping.. am i saying that right? uh.. i’m seeking for your blessing to, give me a shot?”

“i want to be that guy for her. i’ll take care of your daughter with my life, i’ll be there for her when no one else can. i promise, sir. i’ll love her, comfort her, take her side no matter what…”

he gulped, the flame dancing as he spoke. he wasn’t sure if poseidon would hear into his concerns, but it was worth trying. he hesitated to seal his promise, but he loved you. he’d do anything for you.

“sir, i’ll take good care of her. i promise.”

it almost sounded too desperate. luke blew out the flame, heading back to his cabin to not get caught by harpies. his heartfelt confession made his burden slightly lighter, actually being able to sleep this time.

"luke castellan, son of hermes. i've heard your prayer."

huh? who was that? luke opened his eyes, seeing the god of the seas in front of him. he swallowed the lump in his throat, bowing down only to feel poseidon's hand on his shoulder.

"will you keep to your promise? everything you said?"

luke glanced up at the god, nodding. yes. everything he said in his prayer. he'd keep to his promise. poseidon was staring him down, luke slightly intimidated by the death glare the god was giving him. the god's eyes reminded him of your eyes, every wave reflected in them.

"yes, sir. i will keep to my promise."

"how will i know for sure?"

huh? luke thought he'd made it clear with his intentions. but then he remembered – poseidon would deny him. poseidon would've never cared what luke had said in prayer, poseidon already deemed him unfit (like any other man) to date his daughter.

"but si–"

"you already know what i'm going to say, luke castellan."

"sir plea–"

luke woke up sweating. he looked around as he caught his breath, was that real? or was that all a dream? did poseidon really visit him in his dream? his chest hurt. his chest ached. his chest felt it was burning. for all he knew, he might've just lost his chance to love you. he didn't know if he could leave his cabin when morning came, he just wanted to disappear.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan angst #charlie bushnell #pjo luke #luke pjo #peach's fics

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bimbobaggins69 · 5 months

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⟡𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your roommates come home from their date to find you in a bit of a compromising position…but what really sets them off is the jeweled plug you’re wearing.

⟡𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, steddie established relationship, no use of y/n, just a shit load of nicknames, talks of unrequited love (but it’s not), anal plug, kinda mean!eddie and mean!steve, fingering, unprotected anal sex, unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, free use sex, the boys using your holes, dp, squirting, cream pie, no plot just porn.

⟡𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I really don’t know where this came from, but I don’t ask questions about the things that inspire me… I took way too much time on this so pls TAKE IT! Also thank you to my babes @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @reidsbtch for beta reading <33

⟡𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.3k

You’re exhausted, you’ve spent the last couple hours stress cleaning your shared apartment while your roommates are on a date. Why were you stressed you ask?

Well, the most problematic reason; the one that made it borderline impossible to focus on anything else was you were just plain fucking horny. You tried your vibrator in between cleaning the bathroom and the kitchen, then right after with the same disappointing results before finally giving up and tidying your bedroom… that was until you came across something you hadn’t seen since you moved into this apartment six months ago—

Your baby blue silicone butt plug, with the pretty heart jewel at the bottom of the base; so naturally in your absolute horny fog, you figure it wouldn’t hurt to put it on and wear it around while you finish cleaning and then hopefully when you’re done, you’ll be more worked up and can finally, finally finish with your vibrator.

Your roommates said they’d be out pretty much all night, which you figured meant they’d go out to some bar or club and then fuck and nap in the back of Eddie’s van before making their way back home…and if you’re on the topic of complete honesty, they were the main reason for this little dry spell you were having—

Imagine living with the two hottest and sweetest men you’d ever met, but they’re together and have absolutely no room for you no matter how bad you yearn for them. Why would they want you? They have each other and they’re so happy and in love, it makes your insides hurt. Of course you want nothing more then for them to be happy, they both deserve it more than anyone but how do you go on watching the two holders of your heart be happy while you have absolutely nothing to do with it?

It’s fucking pathetic and you need to get your shit together.

So to say the least, yes you have been completely and utterly sexually frustrated. I mean hearing them fuck almost every night does nothing to help these feelings and you haven’t made any efforts to move on, meet new people and possibly start dating. You can’t help but to reprimand yourself when the thought of holding out hope flashes through your mind. There was no hope left, you will never have Eddie and Steve as anything other than friends. And just because they’re bi and are also into women too, doesn't mean you have a shot, no matter how much you wish it did. It’s time to move on.

Once the blue plug is nestled deep inside of you with the help of copious amounts of lube and deep breathes, you get back to your stress cleaning just to get your mind off of all of your conflicting thoughts but decide to forgo your cotton shorts and panties in the process, keeping the oversized slayer shirt that Eddie had let you borrow, on.

Your last task of the day was to do laundry, you’d do a few loads before getting into bed with your vibrating friend, to finally get off like you’ve been trying to all evening.

But when you went to get your clothes out of the wash to put into the dryer, a sock that had been way out of reach had you hopping head first into the machine, and before you knew it a piece of your hair was caught in the agitator. Of course, just your luck!

No matter what you did or how much you pulled, the chunk was lodged in there and was not letting go anytime soon. You wanted to cry, absolutely break down and sob. What were you supposed to do now? Wait for the boys to come home and fish you out as your whole ass is on display? Not to mention the plug you have lodged up there. No no no, you would die from humiliation. So you didn’t give up, you pulled and pulled until eventually your arms and head got tired and you just kinda dangled there, then after a good five minutes you tried again but in your haste and heavy breathing, you didn’t hear the front door open or your name being called. Everything was muffled considering your head was stuck in a damn dryer!

“What the-” you finally hear from the doorway, making your eyes widen in horror.

“Do you um- do you need some help, sweetheart?” You can already hear the smug smirk on Eddie’s face without even looking.

“That would appear so.” You sarcastically quip with a roll of your eyes.

“Well fuck, I don’t know princess. This is quite the view.” He snickers, and you can feel the way his thigh roughly rubs against your calf.

“Munson, this is no time for your fucking jokes.” You spit through clenched teeth. “Please. Help. Me.”

“Babe?!” You hear Eddie call, only assuming he’s calling Steve over to witness the scene or maybe to help him get you out. As humiliated as you are you just want to be free and if Steve has to see you like this in the process, then so be it.

“Whoa!” Steve says as he enters the laundry room, a low whistle falls from his lips and you don’t know if it’s from the view or the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

“She’s stuck.” Eddie tells his boyfriend and you can still hear the remnants of a smile on his face.

“Please guys, please get me out of here.” You beg as your lower lip begins to jutt out in a pout.

“I don’t know Stevie, what do you think? You think we should help her out?” The metalhead chuckles to himself, completely elated with what was happening.

“Ya’ know, I don’t think we should help her out just yet. She looks so pretty like this.” The former jock confesses, and now you can feel his thigh rub on your other calf. You try your damndest not to clench your holes because it might be obvious with the whole plug in your ass.

“Guys c'mon, this is so embarrassing. Please?” You whine, but you can’t help but feel yourself start to drip at their taunting.

“Fuck, you have such a pretty ass, baby. I would’ve never guessed that you liked getting it stuffed.” Eddie groans and you have no idea what’s happening, but you’re not mad either.

“She does, doesn’t she? Can we touch you pretty girl? Promise after we’ll get you out of there.” Steve asks before rubbing what you could only assume was his hard cock against your leg.

“Yes, please.” You whimper as tears fill your eyes, all you’ve wanted for six long months was to be touched by them.

You feel a hand press against the plug, pushing it deeper inside of you before your ass is being slapped, a slight sting left in its place. Two fingers glide through your drenched folds, a loud groan being released from one of the boys’ chest.

“You’re so fucking wet, princess.” Eddie's low timbre has you fighting with yourself to not clench your thighs as Steve’s soft hand inches higher, long fingers gliding up closer towards the plug.

“Jesus Christ. Wanna take this out and see how you gape for us, pretty girl. Can I?” Steve asks, voice low and deep, creating light shivers to course through your body.

“Yeah, mhm you can.” You huff out as the washing machine digs into your stomach, not enough to hurt but your breathing is slightly constricted.

“So fucking desperate for this, arent you baby? Just a little butt slut for us? God, the things I’ve been wanting to do to this ass.” Eddie growls supplying your supple skin with another harsh slap.

“We can’t hear you little slut!” Steve scolded, grabbing the plug at the base before slowly pulling it out.

“Yes! I’m a desperate little slut! Please!” You gasp as you begin to clench around the plug as it’s being removed from your tight rim.

“That’s a good girl.” Eddie teases, as he and Steve laugh at your strangled whines.

Once the plug is removed, you hear a slick sound before a pop; the wet tip of a finger rubbing in circles around your sensitive, reddened hole.

A small gape is left in the blue plugs wake along with the lube that now begins to bubble and leak out, the finger continues its soothing circles before its prodding, the tip sinking in without hesitation making you whine louder.

“Oh she’s ready! This little hole is just sucking me in. She Wants to be filled so badly.” You now realize the finger belongs to Eddie as it sinks in even deeper, moans fall from your parted mouth as you writhe in desperation.

Steve’s fingers begin to prod at your core, completely saturated and dripping down your thighs, they roll over your clit before his fingers begin to slowly enter your pussy. You’re now full as both sets of fingers fuck into you, Steve’s digits curling down hitting that spot a couple inches from your entrance. The position you’re in made it awkward but when his expert fingers found that bundle of nerves hidden in your walls, your holes clenched around both boys and your legs tightened and shook as they dangled, hitting the cold metal of the white washing machine.

“You gonna cum already?” Steve mocked meanly making Eddie snort out a laugh. Their teasing was pushing you even closer towards the edge and you couldn’t understand why, you’d never been one for mocked comments at the hands of other men you’ve slept with, but coming from Eddie and Steve it made your core blaze hot and your head become spacey, absolutely empty as the pleasure continued to grow.

“Well cum for us then, baby.” Eddie grits with a hard thrust of his fingers.

Your moans grow louder, echoed from the metal walls. Your legs shake harder from the force of you keeping them spread, it’s a heavy feat cumming without snapping them shut like you’d usually do when you were alone, before this little dry spell of yours, that is.

“Such a good little set of holes.” Steve says, a cocky edge to his voice as he removes his fingers along with Eddie.

You hear the smacking of lips, wishing you could watch them kiss but before you know it you feel hands on you again.

“I need to get my cock in one of her holes.” Eddie groans as the jingle of a belt buckle being removed hits your ears and before you know it hot, sticky yet incredibly soft skin is being slapped, right over your stretched out hole.

“Mmm, you ready, pretty baby?” The metalhead asks, thrusting his cock between your cheeks.

“Please, Eddie!” You cry out with an impatient lilt to your voice, begging him to take you out of your horny misery.

His tip catches against your rim, sliding in nice and slow as he begins stretching you out far more than the plug and you can’t help but to tighten around him at the unfamiliar girth.

“Oh my god!” You mewl as he sinks deeper, inch by inch you’re being filled, his length feels like it goes on forever until finally he’s fully seated within you.

Once he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his size, he begins thrusting his hips at an unrelenting pace, causing your toes to curl and your eyes to water, it was so good, it was everything you’ve been wanting.

Steve leans over the machine, a chuckle erupts from deep in his chest, as he listens to you moan and babble about how good Eddie feels stretching you out.

“Feels so good doesn't it, baby? Love when Ed’s fucks me too.” He confesses as his hand begins to trail down your back, all the way to where you’re stretched by Eddie, his fingers rubbing over your filled hole and up Eddie’s shaft making you both moan louder.

“Alright Ed, my turn.” Steve huffs impatiently as his cock begins to grow borderline painful beneath his jeans.

Eddie begrudgingly pulls out, smearing the lube around his cock and stroking it as he moves out of the way for Steve to have his turn with you.

“Can I fuck your little pussy, honey?” The pretty boy asks as he grabs your legs, putting his hands under each thigh and raising your lower half higher so your pussy meets his cock at the perfect angle.

“You can fuck whatever hole you want.” You sob, desperate to feel that fullness again.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut, just wanna be our little fuck toy, huh filthy girl?” Steve spits before pushing his tip into your dripping cunt, both of you cry out at the sheer pleasure you’re bringing to each other. Steve’s cock sinks deeper and you find yourself grateful he didn’t fuck you in the ass, his cock felt like it was splitting you in half, the most delicious stretch, but you couldn’t say it’d be as delicious had it been your other hole.

“Steve!” You whimper as your hands wrap around the big hunk of plastic your hair is caught in, trying your best to keep from being pushed further away with Steve’s unforgiving thrusts. The action causes you to almost bump your head on the back wall of the machine, and everytime he pushes you further away a pain shoots through your head as the agitator yanks it back with a strong grip on your strands. It almost feels like Steve has a chunk of your hair, held tight in his hand and now that’s all you can picture, causing you to gush around his cock— the pleasure and pain creating such a ripple effect of mini squirting orgasms that quite literally snuck up on you. Your body shakes as you moan, so sweet and feminine it’s just what Steve loves about fucking women and he has to suddenly pull out of you or run the risk of cumming too early.

“Did she- holy shit.” Eddie says as he takes one look at Steve's drenched and painfully purple cock. God, he wants to fall to his knees and lick every drop you gave him off, but he can tell Steve is already struggling, he knows that flush faced look, that’s his boy’s cum face. He’s decided he’ll reward him later for his willpower, maybe if they're lucky you’ll both reward Steve.

“Can’t believe she's a squirter, barely even touched her.” Steve scoffs; it’s so far from the truth, but the way he’s talking about you is so filthy and hot that you can’t help but to snap your legs shut and tighten.

“Uh uh, princess. Open back up for me.” Eddie tuts, while he brings his hands down to grasp at the meat of your thighs pushing them open enough for him to stand between, silver rings digging into your heated skin as he kneads at your flesh.

“How about we get you outta there now, sweetheart? How’s that sound?” The metalhead asks, growing tired of the awkward position, he wanted you where he knew you always belonged, right in between them.

“Yes, please.” You sigh with relief, as much as you were enjoying this your blood was starting to rush to your head, making you a little light headed.

Steve reaches in first, roughly pulling as he tries to release you from the agitators tight grip.

“Here let me see.” Eddie says after a few minutes as he grows impatient, just wanting to get his cock back inside you.

Even after Eddie tries and tries, you finally speak up with a whine of disappointment.

“There’s scissors in the kitchen drawer, you're just gonna have to cut it.” You huff before your body slips back into a defeated slouch.

“Are you sure princess?” Eddie asks, you can hear the sympathy in his voice as his head hovers over the washers opening, “well, I don’t think I have many options and I just really need you both to fuck me, so…” you hiss back in one more attempt to yank your hair free, with no luck.

“Alright I’ll be back in a sec.” Steve says as he jogs out of the laundry room, towards the kitchen. You and Eddie can hear drawers slamming as he looks for the scissors, the metalhead can’t help but to snort at his boyfriends obvious hunger to be back inside of you, he knows cause he feels it too and it’s something they’ve both yearned for, for more than just the six months you’d been living with them.

It happened when you were just Robin's close friend from work that they would see every other weekend when you’d all go out together; they’d agreed how beautiful, sexy and intoxicating you were, so sweet and bubbly and lively, they had non stop talked about asking if you’d maybe wanna hang out with them and see where things could go, but they didn’t wanna scare you; being in a relationship with two men who are already in a relationship can be a lot for someone, especially if that someone is used to strictly monogamous entanglements.

Then Robin came to them about you needing a place to stay and when you became their roommate they didn’t want you to feel cornered or like they only let you stay cause they like you, even though as time passed their feelings had grown even stronger, so yeah they couldn’t allow this opportunity to slip through their fingers.

“Got 'em!” Steve says with excitement as he rushes over to you, “okay, I’m gonna cut closest to the machine so I don’t take too much, just take a deep breath for me, baby.” Steve says, honey dripping from his sweet voice as he talks you through it.

“Good job, sweet girl. Okay, here I go. You’re doing so good, baby. One more snip and you’re free.” The smooth rasp in his voice makes your heart hammer, feeling it in your ears as you stay as still as possible while he cuts. Once it’s done you’re yanked up from the washing machine, Eddie hands you to Steve and you wrap your legs around his hips as he grabs the plush meat of your exposed ass.

“Are you okay, baby?” He whispers into your ear as he continues to grab and rub at your soft globes.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You murmur back as you place a gentle kiss to his neck, just under his ear.

“Do you wanna stop and grab a glass of water or get something to eat, princess?” Eddie asks into the side of your neck as he stands behind you. You can feel his hard cock as it rubs against your ass and Steve’s hand.

“No, what I need is for you both to fuck me, like right now…at the same time.” You whine as you begin to move your hips over the boys' laps, your ass and bare pussy moving back and forth over their obvious hard ons, you almost feel like a cat in heat, purring and moaning as they both kiss on either side of your neck.

“Okay, fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” Eddie growls as he removes his dripping cock from his jeans, before spitting on his engorged, red tip and smearing it around with his tattooed hand. You jerk slightly when you feel his wet fingers prodding at your puckered hole, spreading the wetness in preparation to take him again.

“You ready, princess?” He asks as he rubs his tip against his target, the squelch from how wet he’s made your asshole makes your face burn hot. You can’t take much more of his teasing.

“I’m ready, I’m ready please.” You beg, it comes out breathless as if you’d just gotten the wind knocked out of you. Your desperation so clearly evident to them, that it causes both of their cocks to pulse with need.

“Okay, we’ve got you baby, gonna make you feel so good.” Steve whispers into the side of your face before leaving a gentle kiss on your jawline that lingers with a tingle when he pulls away.

“Ed’s, hold her legs for me really quick.” Steve mutters before he begins removing himself from the confines of his blue jeans. He gives his aching member a few quick tugs before he’s roughly grabbing you back from Eddie. This time his forearms slide under the backs of your knees, your ass slips down angled perfectly between their needy cocks. Steve’s hold on you tightens as his hands inch behind your back, the perfect position to fuck you on both of their cocks, passing you back and forth like some kinda fucked up game of hot potato.

Eddie begins to push in first, breaching the snug walls of your previously stretched out hole, how was it so tight again? The metalhead groans once he’s fully seated within your gripping confines, Steve takes it as a signal to begin his work of re stretching your cunt back out to perfectly mold to his size, the perfect little cock sleeve.

They begin thrusting simultaneously, causing the filthiest “uh!” to slip past your lips as your left hand shoots out to clutch onto Steve's brown locks while the right finds itself gripping the nape of Eddie’s neck. Three sets of glossy lust filled eyes find each other as your opened mouths breathe in each other's moans of ecstasy.

Eddie’s hands glide down to the globes of your ass, two of his flat palms pull the plump meat of your cheeks apart as his cock drives deeper into your second hole. Tears spring to your eyes as the boys use you for their own pleasure, it’s everything you’ve wanted for so long, you want to live in this moment forever between them as they give you their all.

The grunts and groans that hit the right side of your neck and the back of your left shoulder have you clenching both holes so hard you can already feel the beginnings of orgasmic bliss on the horizon, the heat in your lower stomach stirs and your legs work so hard not to snap shut as they’re still held wide open by Steve’s forearms; now shaking profusely.

“Please, please oh my god, I’m gonna— please!” Is all you can reverberate, as the filthy whines and pleads fill the cramped laundry room.

“You gonna cum for us, kitten?” Eddie mumbles into the back of your hair before planting an approving kiss there, as if to say ‘go ahead, you have my permission.’

“Yes, yes, yes!” You chant as you clamp down even tighter on them, like a fucking vice grip making them whimper and whine as they both fuck you through it.

“Go ahead kitten, soak our cocks— get us all messy with your sweet girl jizz.” Steve couldn’t help but giggle at his boyfriend's ridiculous words, but he wouldn’t deny sweet girl jizz made his cock twitch in anticipation.

Eddie and Steve’s thrusts get even more ravenous as wet squelches, skin slapping and your feminine moans echo off of every wall in the apartment.

“You’re fucking her so good baby. Hear those pretty little noises she’s making for us?” Steve says before bringing his hands to his boyfriends hips and pulling him in even deeper, causing their cocks to rub together through you.

Your high hit you so hard, your moans and cries were silent as your body jerked, your eyes rolled back and your toes curled; a stream of wetness squirted out and hit Steve’s lower stomach with a splash as the rest covered Steve’s sneakers and Eddie’s boots, both boys groaned as they fucked you hard through your second orgasm.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it baby!”

“That’s a good girl!”

Both boys praise you, holding you tighter between them as your body goes lax from such an intense come.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Steve’s nose brushes against yours as his honey eyes study your face with the utmost concern.

“I’m so good.” You say back with a lazy smirk.

Their thrusts continue up when they realize you’re okay, now their only thought was hitting their peak; which was closer now after watching you come all over their laps.

“I’m gonna come, wanna fill you up, please princess?” Eddie whispers in your ear sending a deep pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“Mhm, want you both to fill my holes.”

They both lose it at your words, low grunts leaving their lips as their warm come fills you from both angles.

“Oh fuck! That was—” Eddie started, before Steve finished for him with a breathy and fucked out “Wow!”

They both kiss and hold you before letting your feet hit the cold tiles. Steve grabs a towel and cleans you up with a shy smile on his face, that you couldn’t help but find incredibly cute.

“How about we finish cleaning up and you go lay down in our bed? We can all cuddle and fall asleep. How’s that sound, kitten?” Eddie suggests.

“That sounds nice.” You say through a yawn.

Leaving both boys to clean the evidence of what just happened; the scissors and your hair, the wet puddle on the floor and the loose pieces of clothing scattered around.

Once you were gone Eddie broke the silence—

“Do you think we should ask her tonight or in the morning?”

“Let her get some sleep and then we can tell her how we feel tomorrow, and she can decide whether she wants to be with us or not.” Steve says as he wipes up your wetness.

“Do you think she’ll want us?” Eddie asks his boyfriend as his brown eyes fill with worry.

“I have a good feeling she does.”

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #steddie x y/n #steddie x you #steddie stranger things #steddie x reader smut #steddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut

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bwabys-scenarios · 6 months

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NSFW

He was your loyal, attentive knight. You had been childhood friends, ever since you saved him after sneaking out of the palace walls. Since then, he had been training so one day, he could take care of you.

At first, he saw you as what you were, the princess he was meant to serve. You were intelligent, beautiful, and most importantly you were kind. Your people loved you, and you loved them.

And you loved him too, a fact you would share daily throughout your childhoods. When he started training to be a knight at the young age of 10, you were always there to bandage him up and let him lay his head in your lap after a tough day. You were both children, but he clung to you like a child would his mother. He was often scolded by the maids and senior knights for his clingy behavior. You were the princess and he was getting too old to be staying so close.

He would be a teenager soon, which meant the days of childhood innocence and days of fun spent with his princess would be over. Once she turned 13, she wouldn’t be able to interact with any males besides her personal knight.

He worked his way up the chain, seeing you in secret when he could manage. You missed him, and as the years passed by his innocent, platonic love was starting to shift into something more… lustful. He caught himself staring when you bent over to pick up your fallen books, his eyes following your plump hips as you walked away.

No, he couldn’t see you that way. It was against his code of conduct, his knightly duty was to protect you and your innocence so that you could find a suitable husband one day and bear an heir to the throne.

But at knight, when he laid along in his chambers, he would stroke his hardened cock to the thought of filling you with his seed, claiming you both body and soul. It was a nasty, sinful thought he had to keep to himself, he knew that.

It was hard though, when you were just so tempting.

It took him 6 years to become your own personal knight. You were 19 years old now, marrying age. He held you to his chest as you sobbed at night with the knowledge that you would have to marry someone you didn’t love.

He tried his best to comfort you and push away his feelings of love and lust, but god did it get difficult when you begged him to help you escape. He should have refused and reported your urge to flee to the king… but he didn’t.

“I’ll help you escape, but… I need to ask you a question first.”

You nodded, clinging to him desperately as his hands ran over your hair. “My princess, you… cry as if you are already in love. Could I know the person who has won your heart?”

It hurt him to ask this, making his own heart wrench painfully. You nodded, sniffling slightly as you look up him through tear filled eyes, your cheeks warm. “Yes… it’s you. I love you, I have for years… being apart from you has been so hard… please, I don’t want to marry anyone else but y-“

Before you could finish your sentence, he had already pinned you down, his lips pressing into yours. That was all he needed to hear, he would be claiming you for his own now, and as soon as he was done he’d be stealing you away.

“Mine… my princess, my everything…”

He spent the night worshipping your body, making sure you knew just how much he truly loved you. He fucked into you, his finger rubbing soft, attentive circles into your needy clit. It didn’t take long for him to fill your womb with his seed, making you his and his alone for all eternity.

He had deflowered his princess, taking her virginity and her innocence, the exact opposite of what a knight was supposed to do, but he didn’t care anymore. You were his princess, yes, but you were also his first and only love.

And he would never let you go.

————————

||GOJO ||GETO || NANAMI ||CHOSO ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||CHROLLO ||ARMIN ||EREN ||JEAN ||REINER ||RENGOKU ||GIYUU ||OBANAI ||SANEMI ||YOUR FAV ||

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pullhisteeth · 1 year

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classified | eddie munson x reader

summary at your wits end, you put an ad in the classifieds for a special kind of tutor. Eddie finds it and takes you up on the offer. (nsfw) [13k]

contains smut (18+ minors dni!) – p in v sex, oral (f receiving), lots of praise, virgin!reader, fem!reader, hurt/comfort. eddie's a sweetheart, fluff, first time turned something more (?).

author's notes this one's a long one! the idea made me laugh and then it took on a life of its own. I want to say this is meant to be somewhat lighthearted and is not a suggestion that anyone should be having sex if they haven't already – your body's yours, baby, do whatever you want! no one should ever make you feel rushed into anything!!! anyway Eddie is an angel and I want one. bye!

Eddie's not sure why he's reading the newspaper. Boredom, perhaps; he's been waiting for Wayne to get home from his shift for over an hour. He's thought about calling the plant, but the walk from the couch to the phone seems to be the perfect amount of time to convince himself that he's probably on his way home already.

It's the Hawkins Post. It gets delivered by a snot-nose boy on a bike every week, thrown far too hard at their tin front door. Wayne reads it some weeks, others it gets used to wrap his lunch. Apparently this one he'd read it, flicked through the pages half-heartedly before leaving it open on a centrefold about the local elections. Trust Wayne to get bored of small-town politics, Eddie thinks.

So he picks up where Wayne left off, slowly pulling the pages apart, skimming stories about the endemic of teen pregnancy, or columns about the rejuvenation plans for downtown Hawkins.

Finally, he reaches the only bit of the newspaper that Eddie has ever found interesting: the classifieds (and, on the back of the classifieds, the call-girl ads).

He skims them, eyes brushing past ads for cleaners, dog walkers, nannies. Finds the ones hidden at the bottom – the letters written in code, ads for attractive female friends and women seeking younger men. He's never actually interested in them, but they provide a glimpse into the underbelly of Hawkins, a small town that is, for all intents and purposes, entirely normal. But nowhere is ever truly normal, and Eddie likes to seize the opportunity to pry into the scandalous goings-on of his boring hometown.

He's reading one about swingers when the one beside it catches his eye. It's plain – whoever paid for it kept their costs to a minimum. All it says is:

WOMAN, 23, SEEKING FIRST TIME.

He stares at the bold ink, the statement in all caps that, despite being maybe the lowest cost ad in the whole paper – it's in a box about three inches tall in the very corner of the page – jumps out at him anyway. Underneath the title, it reads: young woman looking for judgement-free first time. Min. age 22, max. age 28. Must have experience. At the very bottom, in almost imperceptible print, is a phone number.

Eddie hadn't realised how close his face was to the page until he hears the familiar sound of Wayne's car pull up outside. He throws the paper down onto his lap and sighs before scrambling around to at least try to look casual, and not like all the blood has rushed to his face. In the few seconds he has between the sound of Wayne's car door closing and him coming up the stairs, Eddie tears the page out, folding it quickly and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans as he stands.

The door opens just as he gets to his feet, and Wayne comes trudging in with his steel lunch pail and heavy boots.

"Hey, Wayne," Eddie says, breathless, trying his best to sound level. Wayne eyes him as he closes the door, before turning to dump his stuff on the table.

"C'mon, kid, you promised me a burger."

The piece of newspaper stays in Eddie's pocket for three more days.

Wayne had been late getting home – something came up, but Eddie wasn't listening too hard, brain on that stupid ad instead – so their weekly trip to Benny's had run until the early hours of Friday morning.

And then Friday was work and Hellfire, which Eddie still leads despite having graduated two years ago, and this time the kids kept him going for hours. By the time he got home he hadn't even thought about the page before crashing into bed.

And then Saturday is family day, as Nancy puts it. Eddie had woken up late, rolled out of bed into the freshest clothes he could find, and into his van to act as bus driver for the morning. His little gaggle of unruly teenagers crammed into the back of it one by one, laughing and teasing and shouting. Steve's home became louder and still, Eddie relished in that feeling of peace he gets once a week with all these misfits he calls friends.

By Sunday morning, the newspaper had been long forgotten in the pocket of his jeans that he'd left in a pile on his bedroom floor. He's laid on his back on his bed, head dangling off the edge, puffing mindlessly on a spliff he'd rolled for himself two days ago that had also been forgotten. The room's a little fuzzy round the edges, just the way he likes it, the sunlight creeping warm paws up his arms. It smells funny in here, he thinks, so he turns over, pushes himself off the bed, and reaches up to open his window. On his way back to his bed, he trips on something, landing with a huff as his ribs hit the corner of the mattress.

"Fuck," he hisses, reaching down to pull the culprit off the floor. It's just an old pair of jeans, so he throws them into the corner, out of the way, and resumes his position, splayed out across the bed.

From this angle, with his head hanging upside down, he spots something by the pile of denim he'd just discarded.

His brain's ticking over slowly under the haze of being stoned, but after a second he realises what it is, and clambers all too quickly off the bed and across the room.

Maybe it's that haze, coating his brain with thick fog; maybe it's the fact that, in the year since he graduated, he's had to settle for quick fucks behind the Hideout after a gig; or maybe, just maybe, it's dangerous curiosity.

Whatever it is, something motivates him to move through his room, down the narrow corridor into the kitchen. There's something hijacking his limbs, and it reaches up to the phone on the wall. With eyes on the page in his hand he spins the dial, listening to the tone as it rings, rings, rings.

The longer he stands there, the more convinced he becomes in his intoxicated miasma that this is some kind of prank; he's going to be met with a stupid kid on the other end, laughing at him for bothering to call at all.

When he finally decides that this is just that, a practical joke, the line clicks. There's a low buzz on the other end, so low he thinks maybe the line just went dead, but then a voice.

"Hello?"

He's taken aback by the sound of it, but not so much that he doesn't notice the sleep coating it. Despite his stupor, he can't help but apologise.

"Shit, sorry, did I wake you?"

"Who is this?" You're sharper now, coming to, and he kicks himself for fucking this up already.

"Oh, shit, uh, sorry. I called about… I got this number, uh, in the paper."

"Fuck," he hears you whisper. He's not sure if he was supposed to hear it. He feels bad.

"Sorry, I'll go, this was-"

"Look, I put that age range in the ad for a reason. I'm sick of gettin' calls from middle aged men, I-"

"I'm twenty-three."

You're silent on the other end for a moment, but he can hear your breath hitch.

"Well, shit," you finally say. "Y'don't sound it."

He laughs an awkward, stilted laugh, unsure what to say.

"Sorry, I've had so many guys – men, old men – callin' me up, tryin' to flirt with me down the phone, I just… The ad was a mistake, clearly."

He likes the way you talk. You've got a pretty voice.

"Uh, thanks," you say.

Shit.

"Fuck, sorry, did I say that out loud?" Moron.

You laugh, the sound fizzing down the telephone line, and it eases some of his insecurity.

"I'm sorry," he says, starting fresh. "I'll leave you be, have a good-"

"Wait," you bite, and he can hear you shuffling around. "Wait just a sec, I- fuck, where the fuck is it? I… Sorry, can you just wait for a second?"

"Sure, sure," he murmurs, trailing off when he realises you've set the phone down. He listens to the faint sounds of you rummaging around and swearing under your breath. He must look like an idiot, stood in his kitchen, smiling at his phone, waiting for a stranger he found in the paper.

He hears you coming back, footsteps getting louder, before you pick the phone back up.

"Y'still there?"

"Yeah," he laughs. You speak to him like he's an old friend and it keeps catching him off guard.

"Okay," you say. "Here's the thing. I put that stupid ad in the paper because I was sad, and my life has been a misery since then, because literally every guy who's called me has been, like, at least forty, which some people are into I guess but I'm not, and- Sorry."

You're rambling, stumbling over your words even though he can tell you're trying to be professional or something. He stays quiet and hopes you'll keep going.

After a beat, you say, "I guess, 'cause you called, you'd be up for it?"

"Uh, well," he stammers. "That's kinda why I called. Care to explain what it is you want, exactly?"

He's not sure where the sudden confidence has come from; maybe the weed's wearing off.

"Okay, yeah," you breathe. "So, uh, my plan, I guess, was that I'd… You'd take, uh, my virginity."

You almost whisper the last part, like it's some kind of slur, and Eddie can't help but laugh on the other end.

You start to sound exasperated, frustrated, so he tries to claw you back.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just so… frank."

"Well, bein' all coy about it hasn't really worked out for me so far."

Can't argue with that logic.

"Okay," he says, trying to ignore the excitement bubbling inside him. You're a stranger, he's a stranger, and this whole thing is kind of weird. Shit, he thinks. Am I a perv?

"How do you want to do this?"

"Well," you start, sounding like you've got this part planned out. "First I need to know you're not gonna murder me or something, so I'll give you an address near my house but not at my house, and we can meet there whenever… and, uh, what year were you born?"

"What?"

"Just… So I feel a bit more sure you're actually twenty-three."

"Hah, okay. 1965."

"Okay, sweet. You got a pen?"

"Shit, yeah, one sec."

His eyes dart around the room. With the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he moves as far as the cord will let him, to a drawer by the front door. At the back there's an old pencil and some scraps of junk mail.

"Got it!" he declares, too enthusiastic but it makes you giggle so he laughs too.

"Okay," you start, and you tell him an address he vaguely recognises, closer to the nicer side of town, halfway between here and where Steve's house is.

"It's a park, kind of. It's pretty public anyways, so if you were, y'know, planning to kill me or whatever, don't bother."

"I'll take that off the to-do list," he tells you through a smirk.

"Very funny," you say, your sentence half-formed like you can't find the words to finish it. "Wait, what's your name?"

"Eddie. Munson."

"Okay, Eddie Munson," you say before telling him yours and deciding that you'll meet him later that day. You tell him it's easier that way, that you can't bear to have to wait all week, sitting on the nerves that might make you change your mind.

That's exactly what Eddie does all afternoon. You'd decided on six that evening, when it's still light but late enough that you both have time to back out, and so he sits, stoned out of his mind on both weed and the phone call, feeling something he's rarely felt before.

It's like cola in his gut, bubbling and frothing every time he tries to move. Is this what people feel when they say they have butterflies? Because it doesn't really feel like that; it feels instead like the madness inside him is floating upwards, fizzing around his heart, prodding and poking at it at uneven rhythms. His mind is reeling, too; he hadn't really thought this through at all. What if, even after that call, you're still planning on playing some kind of trick on him? What if this is an elaborate scheme to publicly humiliate him? Maybe you get a kick out of that kind of thing.

There's another thing, creeping around at the back of his mind, lurking. It's that horrid hopefulness, the what if that feels so far from likely that if he lends too much time to thinking about it, he feels stupid.

What if you're great?

He shakes himself out, standing up off his bed. He'd been lying there for the past two hours, sobering up, dwelling on every detail of the call, lingering in particular on your voice and your laugh and the way you say sweet so often.

He doesn't know who you are. He didn't recognise your name when you told him, even though you're his age. He didn't recognise your voice either, but he likes it, and he wasn't lying when he (accidentally) told you it's pretty.

He looks at the clock beside his bed. The red numbers flicker as they change to 16:52.

One hour.

He's early.

It's ten to six, and he's early.

The sun's low but not gone yet, and the park you sent him to is actually kind of nice. He's in his van, waiting until it's a socially acceptable time to get out and wait for you. What is the socially acceptable time to get out and wait for the girl you've got an agreement like this with?

Before he can decide, he sees someone. They're in jeans and a jacket, red Chucks and hair lifting up in the breeze.

Without thinking about it too hard, he opens the door and hops out, slamming it a little too hard. The person looks over, catches his mop of hair over the top of the van, and stops walking.

"Eddie?"

He hears you call his name over the sound of his boots crunching on the ground as he rounds the front of the van. He looks over to find you, the person he saw walking over, looking at him with your hand at your brow, blocking the sun.

You're pretty – really pretty. He still doesn't recognise you, but he has decided that's surely for the best.

You don't recognise him, either, but he's hot. He's not what you expected; truthfully, you really had expected someone older, lying about their age to get in your pants, someone you'd have to turn down in this very public space, going back to your apartment alone and unsatisfied. This is not what you had in mind at all, but you're not mad about it.

As he comes towards you, you watch the way he walks, chest-first like he's exactly where he should be. His hair's long and a bit wild but it matches his style – ringer tee, messy black jeans, obnoxious denim jacket. He's got his hands in his pockets but when he lifts one out to wave at you awkwardly, you see the rings and know you're a goner.

You wave back, laughing lightly as he nears you. He's taller than you so you really have to squint to see him against the setting sun.

"Hey," he says softly. His voice is even nicer in person; he does sound older than he is, and he has an air of maturity about him, like he's too sure in himself to be 23, but there's also a boyishness somewhere underneath that endears you.

"Hi," you reply. "You're Eddie, right?"

He looks around himself, head whipping back and forth.

"No, doll," he says, looking at you with a blank face. "I'm Keith."

"Oh," you say, trying to hide the flush in your cheeks and the way your face drops, but then he laughs and reaches out to hold your shoulder.

"Sorry, that was a bad joke." He squeezes. "Yeah, I'm Eddie."

You choose to ignore the overly familiar touch and the way it sends your knees all funny, and instead you laugh, a little awkwardly, and hold out a hand.

"Nice to meet ya," you say, firm.

He looks down at your hand as he drops his own from your shoulder. His eyes move between it and your face, but he shakes it anyway.

"Well?" he asks, and you watch as he smirks, staring you down, his hand still in yours.

"What?"

"Do I look like a serial killer? Scared I'm gonna murder you?"

With those final words he pulls on your hand, bringing you closer to himself. His confidence is only making that funny feeling in your knees worse, but what you don't know is that he's bluffing; before you stands a terrified boy struck dumb by a pretty girl.

"Hm," you hum, dialling up the dramatics to ponder his appearance. You take the chance to scan your eyes up and down his body, taking in the scuffs on his shoes and the pretty silver chain around his neck. From here you can smell weed and cigarette smoke, pretty aftershave and something deeper. "I don't think so."

"Damn," he quips, finally releasing your hand to run his own through his wild mass of hair. "I was really tryin' to look scary."

"You didn't do a very good job," you tell him, laughing softly, and he looks at you with a smile.

"Oh well," he says. "Maybe next time."

Ignoring the way that makes you feel, you take his hand again. It's your turn to pull him, dragging him behind you. The move startles him and he drags his feet for a moment before catching up, refusing to let go of your hand when you try. He swings them between your bodies theatrically as you walk him across the park, through a line of tall oak trees and onto the street on the other side.

"So," he says, drawing out the word. "We goin' to your parents' or somethin'?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head slightly with your eyes on the ground. You drop his hand and stuff yours back in your pocket. "I have an apartment, up by Main Street. This's just a shortcut."

"Oh."

You don't say much more after that. The walk is short; you were right, this is a shortcut to Main Street, one even he didn’t know about. It takes you past Steve's house, and Eddie prays he doesn't happen to be looking out the window at this precise moment.

You live above the pharmacy. You scramble with the lock for a moment, so he stands behind you, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking around; it's quiet, the usual lull of a Sunday evening, the sun lower than before. He looks at the back of your hair and the way the light catches in it, hears the low curses under your breath as you struggle with the door. And then it's open, and you're inside in the dark, and he has to bring himself back down to Earth.

Your apartment is small. Behind the door there's a narrow staircase, and at the top another door. It brings him into your living space, which is cramped but clearly well-loved. You offer him a drink and step into the kitchen when he says yes.

He lets his eyes pass over the room. The ceiling is low, reminiscent of his own home, though the walls are more solid than the trailer. They're painted a muted, pale blue, a colour he's sure you didn't choose because you've covered as much of them as you can in things: paintings, framed photographs, postcards. The furniture is more to your taste, he assumes. It's all soft, rich greens and pinks.

You bring him a beer as he sits on the couch, sinks into the cushions, toes off his boots.

"Thanks," he says as you pass him the bottle and take a swig of your own. You take your own shoes off and leave them by the door, hanging your jacket on a hook there too.

"So," you begin, padding back over to him and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. "I don't know how this works."

"Well," he says, turning to you with one arm up on the back cushions, "I can talk you through it, but I need t'know where you're at."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, how far have you gone before? How far do you want to go today?"

"Uh-" You shuffle, squirming into the couch, clearly looking for the right words. "I've never… This is as far as I've ever got."

He breathes a gasp though he's trying to hide it, trying to stick to the agreement of judgement-free. "You've never been kissed?"

You just shake your head and the way your face creases, brows turned down, makes him ache.

"Okay."

"And I want to go all the way," you say quickly, all in one breath, finding your words. "Not too far, no extra shit, like, kinky shit, but the standard."

"O-kay," he says again, smiling this time. "So you know it's not as easy as… As in and out, right?"

"Yes," you spit. He flinches. "Sorry, it's just… It's hard not to feel a bit, like, insecure about all of this. Makes me a bit defensive, I guess."

"It's okay," he soothes, and his tone really does make you feel better. "No judgement here. I'm not new to sex, but I'm just as new to this whole… situation as you are."

"Okay," you sigh.

"Why don't we just chat for a bit? I'm not in a rush if you're not."

"Yeah," you agree. Eddie is easy, you're finding; no dancing around the point, but you feel you're being handled gently. Exactly what you want.

"So did you grow up here?"

Okay, so maybe the 'chatting' suggestion was a bit of a façade for the fact that Eddie has found himself fascinated by you, even in the short time he's known you. Sure, it's only been ten minutes if you're not counting the phone call, but there's something about you that piques his interest. And, if he's honest, he's not sure why he wouldn't recognise someone his own age in Hawkins.

"No, no," you say, leaning over to put your beer on the table. You wipe your mouth quickly with the back of your hand. "I'm from Illinois."

"Why are you here then?" He takes your que and puts his own beer down too, deciding that being intoxicated probably isn't the best idea.

"I dunno," you say, sighing again. Your shoulders go lax as you let yourself sink backwards and look up at the ceiling. "I wanted to go somewhere new, but not somewhere big. And the middle school here was hiring a tech assistant, so I applied."

"And you got the job?"

"Uh-huh. I start in September, figured I'd just move here early, try to find my feet."

"How's that going?"

"Alright, mister questions." You laugh as you say this and sit up, looking at him again with a smile. "It's going okay so far. People are friendlier here, but I haven't exactly found my people yet."

He hums, nodding, and you say, "My turn."

He looks up at you. "Do your worst."

"Did you grow up here?"

"Kind of. Somewhere near here, til I was eleven."

"Why'd you move here?"

"Hah." He goes all rigid and awkward at your question, shrugging his jacket off with his eyes on the ground. You take note of the ink you can see crawling up to his neck under the collar of his shirt. There's something else there, too; something pale and stretched, like a scar.

"It's complicated." That's the answer he settles on, keeping his cards close to his chest. "But I moved in with my uncle when I was in middle school. Been here since then."

"Is that why you're still here? Your uncle?"

"Kind of, but that's also complicated."

"Wow, okay, is everything complicated with you?"

"It doesn't have to be," he says. It throws you for a loop, the way his voice has dropped, fried and kind of… sexy?

You find him looking at you, and suddenly he feels really close. You feel this urge to climb out of yourself, away from this situation that isn't for you; it's never for you. No one has ever wanted to get this close.

"You okay?" he asks, his friendly tone back.

You're grateful he seems to be able to read you so quickly.

"Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay. If you want to, y'know, stop this at any point, just let me know, okay?"

"We haven't even-"

"Will you?" he presses.

"Yes," you promise him. He looks back at you like he's waiting, yearning for something and you don't quite know what.

"Can I ask you something?" he says.

"Mm-hmm."

"Why are you so far away right now?"

He's gone soft, leaning forward toward you, his arm still up on the back of the couch. Your eyes flicker to his fingers and the rings on them, the way they're sparkling slightly in the dipping sun coming through the window.

It fills your mouth with glue. The combination of his proximity and the question leaves you breathless.

"I just…" he continues. "You're hiding from me over there."

He's got a sticky smirk on his face, like he knows the answer and knows you don't want to tell him. He shuffles forward ever so slightly, letting you breach into his space if you want to.

You do, you really, really do – he's a kind stranger, doing a kind thing for you, even if it is a bit odd. You want nothing more than to relinquish yourself to him, and yet you can't.

There's a momentary staring contest between the two of you. The couch feels miles long and yet he's closing in. You feel suffocated.

"I'm gonna come to you," he says after a minute. "Is that okay?"

All you can do is nod at him. It's like your body's on fire, affronted at the idea of being touched by him and yet harbouring some primal urge, deep under the surface, to let him do it anyway.

He pushes his jacket onto the floor with his elbow as he moves himself down the couch toward you. Your eyes follow his arms and the way they stretch, and then the way one of them lifts. He plants his hand firmly on your knee and it burns through the denim of your jeans. You can't tear your eyes from it, staring blankly at his fingers, the way the tendons flex when he squeezes.

"We don't have to do anythin' you don't wanna do, okay?" he tells you. He's watching you, how you're watching his hand, how your hair still lights up in the sun. You're sweet, and pretty, and most of all he longs to know more.

"I'm gonna talk you through it," he continues, "kinda like a teacher, if that's what you want."

When you don't reply, he calls your name softly, and says, "Is that what you want?"

You look up at him and nod again.

"I need to hear it, sweets."

You tell him yes, that is what I want, trying desperately to keep your voice as level as possible, not letting on that it kills you every time he uses a petname like that.

His fingers dance up your thigh and back down to your knee, a repeating pattern that sends you dizzier the closer he gets to you.

"Eddie?"

His hand stills and he looks at you.

"Yeah?"

When he responds, you feel his breath on your face. He's close enough, now; you can really look at him, at the crow's feet by his eyes, the freckles across his cheek, the bend in the bridge of his nose that looks like maybe he broke it once. His eyes are really pretty, browned sugar and syrup, flitting around as he tries to read you.

"I've never been this close to anyone before."

He's watching your eyes as they move over his face, admiring the slight sense of awe in them.

"That's okay."

There's a sudden absence on your leg where his hand leaves it and it aches, like the bone is realigning. You swallow a whine and close your eyes when his hand finds your cheek.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he whispers. "That okay?"

You nod again and he lets the pads of his fingers smooth backwards into your hair where they take root, his thumb beside your eye. You feel him pull you in and his breath on your nose and then the strange sensation of his lips.

It's new but not unwelcome. He's soft with it, light as anything and quicker even, gone before you really know it's happened. Some kind of sudden urge takes over, though, because you don't like how quick it was, so you chase him. You plant your lips back on his, firmer than he had, your nose nudging his as you get the angle right. This one's longer and it startles him; you have to pull back when he starts laughing.

"Alright, alright, slow down," he says as you sit back, deflated. "You liked that, huh?"

You nod, giddy, desperate to feel it again.

"Can I show you somethin'?" His hand is on your neck now, burning its fires once more, and you can barely concentrate on him.

"Yeah," you breathe, a sigh of relief as he comes closer again. But as you close your eyes, expecting his mouth on yours, you can't help the whine that escapes when he misses, landing beside it. You feel him chuckle, a puff of air out of his nose, before he dots more kisses along your jaw. It feels nice, gentle and slow, like he's scared to break you if he goes too fast or comes on too strong.

The whine, lingering in your throat, moulds into something like a sigh – or even a moan – when he makes it onto the column of your throat. You swear you feel his teeth graze the skin there, lips following them over your pulse. His kisses turn hotter, heavier, and you can't help the way you keen into him. Without thinking about it, you paw at his shoulders and let your back arch as you breathe thick pants into the air of your living room.

When he pulls back again, you whine his name, gripping tighter where you've pulled his shirt into your fists. He laughs at you, head tipped back, as he smooths his hands up and down your arms; the gentle touch makes you relax and your hands unfurl.

"Good, huh?" His words are viscous, thick with want, but he daren't go too fast.

"Mm-hmm," you agree, nodding, breathing quick. Now that he's stopped, you have time to consider that, actually, you might be a bit overwhelmed; without thinking about it you sit back, returning to your comfortable distance by the arm of the couch, watching as his face falls.

"Sure you're okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah, I just-"

"Yeah, take a second."

"Mm-hmm, just need a minute."

You watch him stiffen, awkward in the wake of the moment, and take the chance to admire him a bit more until you sense his eyes are back on you, and suddenly you feel very small.

"You alright?"

You nod, looking back at him, finding his face all soft and concerned, turned down so it makes you twinge.

"You're being so nice to me," you say. It comes out more as a breath, a string of words tied together with insecurity, all in the same exhale. You're not even sure you said it at all, but his face twists into something like shock.

"What do you mean?"

You sigh. "I dunno, I… You're just being very… kind. Are you always like this?"

He seems taken aback by the question. His hands are in his lap where his left fingers toy with the rings on his right. He looks away from you to stare instead at the beer on the table and the drop of condensation running a race down the neck of the bottle.

"You've really never done this before, huh?" he asks you, and now it's your turn to be taken aback.

"I'm not lying, if that's what you're getting at," you say with perhaps a bit too much venom.

"No," he responds, stern. "I'm just… Finding it hard to believe. I'm sure it's true," he says quickly when you open your mouth to fire something quick at him again, "like, I know you're not lying, but it's so surprising."

"How so?"

He sighs this time. He twists in his seat to face you, bringing one leg up under himself, the other dangling off the edge of your couch. "I'm gonna be honest with you right now, if that's okay."

"Okay."

"'Cause I feel like that's the best way to do this whole… thing, right? Nothin' in it for you, really, if we're not honest, or whatever…"

For the first time since you met him in the park, he's showing his nerves. It gets him all wound up, stumbling through sentences like the words are quicker than he can keep up with. It's endearing, really; nicer in some ways than confidence.

"When I saw that ad it obviously caught my eye, I mean, I called, but I just didn't know what to expect, obviously, and you're… Well, you're… normal? So far, anyway." He huffs the last three words out in a laugh, but you don't return it.

"What does that mean?"

"I just think I expected someone who puts an ad like that in the paper to be weirder, or something."

Your gut twists. Red flares of anger lick up your insides, popping and wheezing in your throat.

"What the fuck, dude?"

You stand, backing away, feeling that familiar creeping isolation; distance, walls up, get away. His face has dropped to something wider, fear in his big stupid brown eyes and mouth agape.

"I didn't-"

"I'm not weird for being a virgin. And just because you think I'm 'normal' doesn't mean this-" you gesture between the two of you with both hands, "-should be surprising."

"No, shit, sorry," he pants, desperation oozing, "fuck."

"I think you should go," you finally say. Your arms are across your middle, hands gripping your forearms. You don't dare look at him, even when he says nothing.

You flinch when you feel him come nearer. He steps over the threadbare rug on your floor and over to the corner where you've parked yourself.

He calls your name and you despise the way you soften at the sound of it.

"I'm gonna touch you, 's'that okay?"

You scoff, turning away from him.

"Stop fucking patronising me, Eddie."

"I'm not patronising you. You wanted me to talk you through it."

"Yeah, that. Not this."

"This is part of that."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Well this isn't getting me very turned on," you spit, turning back to look at him, your arms still crossed over your chest and the rising fire of anger flares when you find that cocky smirk on his face.

"Will you come sit down with me? Please?"

His hands are hovering awkwardly between the two of you, forbidden to come any closer but refusing to give up completely. You offer him an olive branch, dropping your own arms and taking his hand in yours.

He walks you back to the couch and sits beside you, turning your hand over in his on his lap. You both watch it, the way his thumb grazes your palm, tracing the lines up and over.

"Sex isn't just sex, you know," he says frankly. "Even when it's like this."

"I know," you whisper, eyes transfixed.

"It's about all the emotional shit too, and I'm gettin' the feeling there's a lot of that to get through."

"Mm-hmm." It irks you, the way he seems to know you without really knowing you. "You sound very wise."

He laughs at that, and you find yourself grateful for the reprieve, for the way the tension seems to lift just a little.

"I'm just being honest," he admits through a laugh. And then he turns to look at you, dipping his head to meet your gaze because you won't look up. His gaze on you is oppressive, unfamiliar, but you don't dislike it.

"You're really pretty, you know."

You just look at him.

"Hm?" he tries, dipping even lower to catch your eye properly. "It's true."

"A boy's never called me pretty before," you admit, words too quick for you to call them back. This is dire, this hole you're digging; after all this time, being honest is still so difficult, though it seems to come so easily to him.

"That's a crime" he says. And then he does that thing, the one you've read about in books, daydreamed about, thought about late into the night. He brings his hand to your face and holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, a light pressure but enough to move you to look up at him, sat upright, with your mouth dropped open in shock.

It's just as electric as you'd imagined; more so, even. Two points of contact. Who'd have thought it?

"I'm sorry I said something stupid," he tells you. "It was dumb."

You giggle as his fingers shift across your skin. Soon enough he's holding you in his hand again and you feel yourself leaning into it, again.

"Thank you for apologising," you say. "I think I can forgive it for now."

"Good," he says. And then, more coy, the act dropped for a moment, "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, but…"

Just like before, the words stall in your throat.

"You can tell me what you want, you know. It's why I'm here." Christ, his voice is like honey when he's this close to your face.

You pull a long breath in through your nose and close your eyes.

"I have this… fantasy," you begin, and you hear (and feel) him chuckle.

"Go on."

"I guess it's not really a fantasy, just something I've always wanted to try…"

"That's the definition of a fantasy."

"Hey," you scold, opening your eyes and swatting him on the arm softly. "You wanna hear it or not?"

"Sorry, sorry," he says, laughing again. "Continue."

"Can I sit on your lap?"

"Is that it?" he asks, laugh lingering, threatening to fire up the heat in your cheeks.

"Yes," you say pointedly. "I wanna try it."

"Go for it, baby."

He doesn't miss the way you gasp at the nickname; in fact, he smiles, grins almost. He moves his hands down, leaving your face for now so he can hold your waist as you move onto your knees and lift one over him.

It's funny, you think, how hard all of this feels; really, this is a very normal thing for two 23-year-olds to be doing, and yet something within you makes it feel mechanical, intentional. Perhaps you just need practise.

"Okay," he says as you settle, your hips halfway down his thighs. "You gonna get any closer, or am I gonna have to lean over an' break my back?"

"Am I okay to get closer?" you ask, not taking much notice of how your fingers are dancing around his chest, toying lightly with the chain around his neck. Maybe it does come naturally after all.

"'Course you are, here-"

His big hands pull you in by the waist so that you're seated on him, hips to hips. Your faces are closer now, too, so you can admire those lovely crows feet again and the bend of his nose.

"Gonna kiss me, Munson?"

"O-kay," he says, smirking again. "I like the attitude."

"Oh, for fu-"

He shuts you up with a kiss, takes your breath away like they all say in the magazines; this kiss brings the fire up to the hilt, pulls on the smoke and the kindling and sets everything ablaze. His lips move against yours like molten gold, hot and rich and bright, quick but tender all the same. You feel the heat of his stuttering breaths on your cheek and lean inwards, arching your back slightly, until you feel him moan.

It's a sensation you could get used to, for sure. It's fizzy vibrations on your lips, makes them tingle, all electric. And then, before you can really know it's happening, you feel his tongue on yours.

You're not even sure when you opened your mouth for him. But it's there, the new feeling. It feels wetter, less familiar, but it pulls an involuntary moan out of you and you arch your back even more without thinking.

You get into it, into the rhythm, and let your mind wander to the friction between your hips and the pressure of his fingers under your ribs. They're skirting the hem of your top, his ring finger dipping beneath it onto the skin of your waist. And then you think about it too much, take notice of it too acutely, and you're pulling back and panting, looking down at where his hands are.

"All good?" he asks in a voice that's new to you; it's lazy, his words fuzzy, like he's just woken up. You look up at him and his eyes are hooded, lids low, and he's wearing a dopey half-smile.

"Yeah, just… Feeling lots of things," you say; it's all you can think of to explain this.

"That's kinda the point," he reminds you, and then he's doing that thing he showed you earlier, kissing slowly across your jaw and down onto your neck. It feels just as nice the second time; nicer, even, because you're letting him do it and you're letting yourself enjoy it.

His fingers venture upwards, more of them sliding under your top, until he pulls back and says the fateful words you knew would come soon: "Can I take this off?"

His lips are still on your throat, so he doesn't see the way you wince. When you don't reply he comes back up to look at you. You turn away.

"Hey," he coos, one hand leaving its treacherous territory to hold your head again. "What's up?"

You huff. "No one's ever seen me… naked before."

He smiles, which vexes you. "I'm here 'cause I wanna, baby."

The fucking nicknames.

"I know, I just… Can you just-"

You hold his hand in yours and move it away from your skin, hold it in both of yours to keep it away from you. He breathes an apology but you continue.

"This whole thing, me never doing this before or whatever, I think it's probably got a lot to do with me not really liking this-" you look down at yourself as you speak, "-very much."

You see him take this in, how it melts his features and widens his eyes.

"Okay," he finally says. "We can take this slow, yeah? You wearing a bra?"

"Yes, Eddie, I'm wearing a bra."

"So let's start there. Top off first, and you can see how you feel."

"Okay."

You let go of his hand and he takes your shirt in both. You close your eyes as you feel him lift the fabric, bunch it around your breasts, your que to lift your arms. You do it for him and he pulls up, tugs it messily over your head and throws it somewhere across the room.

"Shit," he hisses.

"What?" you say in a panic, worried something somewhere has gone horribly wrong.

"Look at you," he croons. "So pretty."

The insecurity evaporates, coming off you like a heavy mist, as he dips his head to kiss your collar bones and across the swell of flesh beneath. He takes his time, sometimes pulling the skin between his teeth but never for long enough to leave a mark. At some point he nudges you back and reaches over his head to pull his own shirt off; before he commits, he looks at you. You nod.

This is the most flesh-on-flesh you've ever felt before. It's nice; you're both warm, and he hasn't once mentioned the eighteen thousand different flaws you know are on your upper body.

His is covered in ink – pretty, often in swirling patterns and on his arm there are bats. But between them, there's confirmation of your earlier suspicions: he's got scars everywhere.

You trace them with gentle fingers.

"Don't ask," he says, laughing awkwardly.

"Okay."

You lean back in to kiss him. You’re a lot less confident than he is at initiating, but soon enough you get the hang of it, and he lets you. He doesn't take the reins; instead, he gives himself to you, lets you find your feet by yourself.

You attempt to copy him, kissing his jaw and then his neck, and you enjoy the way he sighs and relaxes under your lips.

As you move further down, teeth grazing his collarbone, he says, "you wanna move? Couch isn't exactly ideal."

You finish your work with a peck to the bump of his shoulder and say, "Sure."

There's some awkward shuffling, and standing in your bra and jeans is somehow more vulnerable than sitting on him, but nevertheless you take his hand and lead him through the door to your bedroom.

He doesn't have as much time to take this room in as the last one, because he wants you on the bed more than he cares to admit. When you flick on the bedside lamp, finally acknowledging how dark it's become now the sun's started going down, all he really notices is how warm the room is.

"Here," he says, manoeuvring you as he pleases. "Lay back, yeah?"

You do as he says, sitting facing him and pushing yourself back so you can lay down with your knees up.

And then it happens: one of the many cataclysmic revelations of the evening.

"Good girl."

Again, you gasp, looking up at the ceiling.

"Good?" he asks.

"Really good," you tell him. You haven't really noticed that your hands have laid themselves across your chest, but he can't stop staring.

"That's it, see? Love when you tell me what you like."

One of his hands joins one of yours where it's fidgeting with your bra, and the other smooths down one of your legs, urging you to straighten them. You do, and again he says those fateful words: "Good girl. Gonna take these off, yeah?"

"Wait," you snap, sitting up and letting his hand fall so you can lean back with your weight on yours. "Can we do it together?"

"'Course."

"And can I… Can I undo yours?"

"Shit, sure you can."

You sit up and he takes your hands in his bigger ones, moulding them so you're tracing your fingers down the plain of his chest and stomach. You follow the dips and creases, the taught skin of his scars, and finally reach his belt.

He's mumbling nonsense at you, too caught up in everything to keep up the teacher façade, pinching your fingers between his so you can pull the leather through the buckle and get to his zipper.

When you unzip and brush something hard, he drops his hands and tips his head back in a sigh. It's an unfamiliar feeling under your tentative hands but it's not unknown.

"Wow," you breathe, not really meaning to say it out loud.

"Shit, gotta get these off-" He pulls back from your wanting grasp to shuffle out of his jeans, leaving his boxers in place for now. One step at a time.

"Your turn," he declares, smiling, jeans and socks gone. He reaches over to you again to return the favour, undoing buttons and the zip and his wide hand on your hip urges you to lift off the bed so he can pull the denim down your legs.

There's no turning back now; you can never again wonder what will happen the first time someone sees you (nearly) naked.

You've thought about this before, turned an infinity of possibilities over in your mind, but this was never one of them. Not one of them included a pretty boy, standing before you, just as exposed as you are, pawing at flesh and telling you you're beautiful.

His lips ghost over you, beginning at your shoulder and creeping lower. When he reaches the middle of your chest he looks up at you, the angle a little awkward. You nod.

"What're you doing?" you ask him, moving backwards again as he crowds you.

"I'm gonna take this off," he says, tugging lightly at the band of your bra, bringing himself level with you so he's breathing the words into your ear. "And then I'm gonna eat you out."

He may as well be a fire-breathing dragon. His words claw at your scalp like flames and fill your lungs with heat, pulling a sigh from within. You lean back, lying flat on the sheets, and let him have his way with you.

But he doesn't move, first admiring the way you respond and then waiting, lingering above you, too far away.

"What?" you hiccup, looking at him, confused.

"Need you to tell me this is what you want," he tells you.

"This is what I want," you repeat back to him. And then, taking the plunge, you add, "I want you to eat me out, Eddie."

You relish in his response, the way you can almost see him shiver, bare shoulders twitching and chest deflating with a shuddery exhale.

"Christ, yes, okay."

His fingers inch around your back so you arch it, letting him toy with the clasp of your bra. He gets it undone quicker than you expected, and you can't bring yourself to focus on where it goes once it's off because he's got his mouth back on your skin and now he's biting marks in places that would make your past self blush.

You feel his teeth on the swell of your boobs, first the left and then the right, and the rough pads of his fingers over your nipples.

"Shit," you hiss, and then, "no, shit, don't stop," when he halts for a second.

"Feel good?" he asks, muffled with his teeth grazing the stretch of skin across your ribs.

"Yes, yeah."

Gripping the sheets, you arch again, keening into him, chasing the buzz of his lips and the goosebumps they leave.

His fingers leave them, too, especially when they dance over your sides, that bit that makes you feel hollow if you drift over it the right way.

"Can I take these off?" he asks, lifting his head to look up at you from where he's sunk to his knees. You're staring at the ceiling, too preoccupied to meet his eye, and the sight makes him huff a laugh.

"Yes," you respond too quickly.

As you feel his fingers curl around the elastic, he says, "Okay, you're gonna have to give me a hand, alright? Tell me if it feels okay or if you want me to move. Or if you want me to stop, obviously."

"Yes, yeah, fuck, please Eddie-"

"Alright, alright," he laughs, pulling the material down over your knees and feet. At this rate, your bedroom floor must look like an explosion at the laundromat; dirty laundry everywhere, clothes all over the floor.

You're not sure why you're thinking about the logistics of tidying right now, though it doesn't last long, because the cool air on your core is a shock that jolts every limb.

Although he's wedged between them, you seem to have an instinctual reaction to the sensation of being exposed, your legs trying to close around him. His firm hands pull them apart, his fingers grasping the fat of your thighs, and then his lips.

They're on the softness between your legs first of all, nipping and pulling the skin between his teeth as he moves upwards. And then you feel them, the strange, wet contact. There's a feeling, something you think must be his tongue, licking upwards, before it makes contact with your clit.

The pressure is a thunderbolt to the centre, a shock that sends you arching off the bed with a gasp. Your grasp on the sheets tightens for a moment until you feel the roughness of his hair instead; without thinking, you've moved both hands to claw and pet at the crown of his head, earning a muffled moan when you tug ever so lightly.

He calls your name, pulling back, his words heard through cotton wool ears. "You're sure you haven't done this before?"

"Fuck, yes, Eddie I'm sure," you pant in response, desperate for the sensation of his mouth on you again. He obliges your unspoken craving, licking upwards again before settling comfortably at your clit. His firm hands dig deeper into the flesh of your thighs until one of them doesn’t, and before you can think too hard about it, you feel it just beneath his mouth.

The new feeling of his rough fingers on your cunt sends your eyes rolling back; you can't help but squirm and it's driving him wild, the way you're listening to him, the way you can't help but move, the way you're tugging at him without realising.

The gnawing tightness in your core nosedives when he slips, warm breaths replacing his mouth and fingers. You whine like a petulant child, making a noise you didn't know you could.

"I'm gonna use my fingers," he tells you, the distance between him and your cunt not enough to save you from the maddening huffs of breath as he talks. "Have you ever had anything inside before?"

It's funny, how nervous he sounds despite the fact he's knelt the way he is between your knees. His mouth was just all over you, and yet he's still a boy, turned stuttering by sex talk.

"No," you pant, "no, never."

"Okay, it might hurt, alright? You just gotta tell me to stop and I will."

"Okay," you agree.

He settles back into position, his weight rested on his elbows and his face and hand inching closer. You feel it, the stiffness of a finger, but the feeling is unusual and a little uncomfortable.

"You gotta relax," he tells you. "You overthinkin' it?"

"No," you bite defensively.

"It's okay."

You huff and lie back, dropping your shoulders.

"Do you ever…"

Another sigh.

"Do you ever touch yourself?"

There's a momentary flush of embarrassment, a conditioned response to being asked about this kind of thing, but you're here, in this position, naked, so you may as well be honest.

"Yes."

"Okay, what do you think about? When you do?"

"I, uh…"

"It's okay," he says quickly, "don't tell me. Just- just think about it now, right? Somethin' that turns you on."

Something that turns you on? What's turning you on right now is the handsome guy between your legs. His pretty inked skin, the stretch across his shoulders and the ripples in his back. His wide, firm hands, those obnoxious rings, the way he keeps telling you you're a good girl.

It swims in your mind, the vision of him cooing sweet praises, the fizzling memory of those words in his voice.

"That's it, you got it," you hear him tut, as though he can see inside your mind, read your thoughts. It pulls apart the tension in your core and across your shoulders, and then it's back, that feeling, the warmth and the fire, and you sink deeper into the pool of euphoria.

With one finger already half-way inside, he adds a second, his eyes trained on your face in case it's too much. But it's not; of course it's not. He knows he's good, but he doesn't think he's made a girl this happy in his whole life.

You feel it soon enough: there's a fizzing current that licks up from your cunt and into your gut where it lights your nervous system on fire. It runs laps around your body, pinpricks in your fingertips and behind your ears. You grasp at the sheets again, pulling, pulling, pulling, reaching for whatever you can to keep your body from floating away, because it really feels like that's about to happen; either that or you're going to implode, pulling the room and everything else with you like a black hole, hungry for more.

You barely notice the pants, your whiny moans and the repeated prayers of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, before you're coming apart. He's still going, riding you through it, basking in the sound of his name as it crawls from your mouth. So far he's kept his composure, ignored the searing pain under his boxers, but he doesn't think he'll hold out much longer.

"That's it," he coos, slowing down, rubbing soothing circles into your hip. You're panting, your breath hot and skin even hotter, and you can barely hear him when he speaks. The words carry, though, somehow; his praises of you did so good, and you're driving me wild, and, worst of all with the way it slaps you silly when it comes, I need to be inside you.

You sit up at that, holding yourself up on wobbling elbows to look at him. He's still knelt between your knees, hands resting on them, looking back at you with eyes turned dark and glistening skin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and it takes you a minute to understand that he's waiting for your answer.

"Right," you breathe. "Yeah, okay." You scramble to sit up and twist yourself so you're lying the right way but he laughs and it makes you go cold.

"Chill out, take a minute, yeah?"

His hand hasn't left you; it's on your ankle now, rubbing those same circles over the bone.

All you can say is, "That was insane."

He laughs again, a softer noise this time, and says, "It was, huh?"

"Yeah." You flop back, head in the pillows and eyes on the ceiling above you, your own fingers tracing up and down your stomach.

He watches you from the floor. You're all flushed, glowing something rosy and sprinkled with dewy sweat. And then he watches your fingers, their absentminded journey up from your belly to the dip between your boobs, and back down. You repeat it over and over, and though it's an innocent, repetitive stroke, it's not helping the pressure between his legs.

"I'm gonna take these off," he tells you, giving your ankle a comforting squeeze and tugging his waistband with his free hand. "That okay?"

It dawns on you, as you look at him, that not only are you lying naked in front of a stranger, but that you are about to see that stranger's dick. A stranger who responded to your stupid ad in the paper, who's agreed to this for some stupid reason, and who is stupid handsome and stupid nice.

"Uh, yeah, okay."

He says your name again and it sounds so pretty when he does, and then he says, "We can stop if you want, you know. You don't have to do anythin' you don't want to."

"No, I want to," you say. "I just… This is a lot."

"Yeah," he says with a smile, that one that drips with charm and tugs at your gut. "But you're all good. Done so well so far."

Your body keens at the praise, your back lifting off the bed and it's then that you notice the feeling of want biting ugly marks into the pit of your stomach. You look at him, and he looks back at you, and all you can feel is a gnawing emptiness, a need to be full.

"Let's do this," you declare, sitting back up on your elbows and watching him with needy eyes. He sees it, the darkness that has settled in your irises, the itchy fidgeting of your hands on your sheets.

"Yes, ma'am."

Slowly, he stands and tugs his underwear down his legs and onto the floor. It all feels very real, now that he's stood before you like this.

He laughs at your wide eyes, trained on the straining erection he just let loose. You've never seen a dick in person before, and to be truthful you're not sure you've ever really seen one in a photograph or a video – the adult section at the rental store isn't exactly somewhere you often find yourself – so you have nothing to compare this to, but objectively it looks quite big.

"Will it fit?" you say before you can stop yourself. It comes out a squeak and makes him laugh yet again.

"Yes," he tells you, "it'll fit. But thanks for the ego boost."

He's on his knees on the bed beside you now, moving towards you until he can use his hands to move your legs apart. He settles himself between them and sits back on his heels, leaving one hand on your left leg and using the other to take one of yours. He intertwines your fingers, squeezes, and pulls you to sit up.

"Here," he says, bringing your hand to sit flat on his ribs. He's controlling his voice as best he can, hoping it doesn't sound as desperate as he feels right now. He can't help but stare at you, at how you're looking at him.

"I'm gonna show you how to touch me, okay?"

"Yeah," you breathe. His hand moves yours down until it reaches patchy hair and then he curls your hand around his dick, his own hand still holding yours.

It's a new feeling, sure, but you're mostly enjoying the short hisses of breath he's letting out. When you move upwards without his help he almost moans, and you decide you'd like to do whatever it takes to make him do it again, and louder.

"Shit, okay, wait. Here-" He brings your hand away and lays it flat, palm up. "Spit."

You look up at him and find his wide brown eyes looking down at you, waiting.

So you spit into your palm, and he brings it back to himself, and moving is easier now.

"Fuck, okay… Yeah, just like that, that's it, shit-"

He drops his hand from yours and leaves you to find your own way, so you copy his pattern of up and down, slowly, twisting your hand as you go.

"Here, move your thumb over the- Fuck-"

You do as he says, perhaps too eager to please, and watch in awe as the muscles in his abdomen tense and he leans forward, resting his weight on one hand planted right beside your hip.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," he says, taking your wrist and pulling you away, ignoring the way you whine.

When he says, "We can worry about me another time," you try to ignore the brief fluttering it elicits deep within your chest somewhere. Dwelling on things said in the heat of this moment isn't fair, you decide; he surely doesn't mean it.

With warm, now familiar hands, he helps you lay back down.

"You got condoms?"

"Oh." You don't, and the truth you're about to tell him is mortifying. "No. They all expired a few months ago."

"That's fine," is all he says, and the fluttery feeling returns when he doesn't ask any follow up questions. No judgement, as promised. "Just wait here."

His hand leaves you at the last possible moment. As he moves off the bed it runs smooth down your leg and over your foot, like he's scared that if he lets go you'll disappear. You watch him hop awkwardly across the room and into your living room, the sight a refreshing injection of humour, helping you relax into the mattress again. He comes back with his jacket in one hand, which he drops on the floor after rummaging in the inside pocket and pulling out a red foil square.

He pulls it open with fingers that you realise are shaking slightly, and you wonder if he's really nervous, and if so, if he's as nervous as you are.

It takes a few seconds but soon enough he's rolled it on, breath stuttering and dry, and then he climbs back to you and his hands return to your body almost as quickly as they left.

He's hovering over you now, his long hair tickling the sides of your face and the tops of your shoulders, all the places the sun hits on hot days. You're too caught up in watching his every move, too keen to really realise what you're saying before you ask: "Will you kiss me again?"

He smiles and dips down wordlessly, letting his lips slip against yours. It brings back the fluttering and the fizzy feeling, the craving for him. As your tongues move as one, you feel his hand by your thigh, and when he pulls back he says, "You ready?"

You nod, and then, remembering what he said earlier, cement it in words: "I'm ready."

"Alright, I'm gonna go slow, okay? It's gonna stretch more than earlier, but you just keep me clued in, yeah?"

"Yeah."

There's a new sensation at your core, of wetness and something rigid. He's moving against your folds, finding no purchase in the remnants of earlier on, but then he nudges your clit and you jolt upwards and that's when he finds what he was searching for.

He nudges in quickly at first, enough to make you whine a pained sound. He matches it with a low grumble, a vibration right by your ear.

"You okay?" he's quick to ask, head rising to look at you.

"Yeah, yeah, just- slow, please."

"I've got you."

He doesn't move for a beat, eyes trained on the scrunch of your nose. He kisses it and feels you relax, so he keeps kissing, quick flashes over your forehead, your temple, your cheek. Each one brings new relief and as your back hits the bed again, he eases himself in a little more.

The stretch is definitely different; more. There's a burn, but it doesn't completely hide the wave of pleasure you get in the fullness.

"Gonna go a bit more," he tells you, and he does just that, going half an inch further, still watching for any sign of discomfort.

When you bring your knees up by his hips, he knows you're past the worst of it. He chants praise, telling you that you're doing so well, taking me so well as he keeps going, all the way until he's seated inside you, up to the hilt. You breathe in a gasp, filling your lungs, realising you'd been holding your breath for too long. And as you open your eyes, you find him staring down at you with concern and something else.

"You good?" he whispers with his face so close you feel the words as they settle on your cheek.

"Yeah."

"Good girl."

He punctuates this with a kiss, and then another, over the hill of your jaw and onto your throat. Your hands claw up his back, pulling him in until you're sure that if he were any closer, you'd fuse into one.

"Okay," he finally says, lips against the peak of your shoulder. "I'm gonna move. I'll go slow at first."

"Okay."

The feeling of him pulling out is new and nice, but it's nothing compared to the opposite. The combination of the two, the repetitive motion he picks up, is something you want to chase forever.

As he moves, he quickens, trying his best to keep his eyes open and attentive; it's difficult, though, when you feel this good.

"Christ, you're so fuckin' tight, shit-"

"Eddie, this feels amazing, uh-"

Your stomach twists into a coil again, quicker this time, and tightens as he picks up the pace. Above you he's all guttural moans and pretty groans, his lips grazing your cheek each time he moves, and soon his thrusts become too much. You're panting his name and he's panting yours, and along with the sound of skin on skin, that's all you can hear until he speaks gravel-churned words into your ear.

"Shit, 'm so close, fuck- Gotta get you there, baby, huh? C'mon, need you to come for me."

His words are joined by sloppy fingers between your bodies. They fumble in the dark, prodding your belly before finding slippery purchase on your clit. Sparks light up your body and all you can do in response is let it arch into him with a yelp of his name.

"You close?" he asks.

"Yes, yeah, shit, yes," you splutter back. It's like a chase, and you're catching up, quickly, quickly, quickly.

All of a sudden there's a white-hot flash that burns every inch of your insides. You tense, your body yawning open for him, wide and wanting; he doesn't relent, thrusts harder than ever, chases you in return as he feels you tighten around him. You release, the coil snapping, and he brings the pace down to see you through to the end.

There's cotton wool in your ears again but you make out his praises: "That's it, that's it, atta girl… C'mon, I've got you, you did so well."

When your breathing turns regular and your eyes ease open, you feel a warm knuckle on your cheek. He's still going slow, rutting in and out of you with ease now, and when you finally look at him he asks, "Gonna keep goin', that okay?"

You nod, throat closed for the time being so you make it as certain a nod as you can muster. His thrusts become quicker again, and the more he speeds up the sloppier he becomes. You feel sensitive, too warm but also too desperate to see, hear, feel him come undone inside you. It's not long until your wish is granted; soon his groans turn to whimpers and whines, and he calls your name as he shudders to a violent halt. It's intoxicating, experiencing this from underneath him; if this is what everyone's been talking about all these years, you understand why.

The room sways and whistles as he rests his weight on you. His breath, right beside your ear, is like a hot, damp rag, pulling at your sticky skin and the thrum of rushing blood. You hear him groan and then the uncomfortable feeling of him pulling out. The bed bounces gently as he huffs and flops down beside you, and, god, you wish so badly that you could keep those flutters under control because his clammy hand finds yours between your bodies and it's nice to feel the affection he's so devoted to giving you.

Sighing, he says, "Shit."

You laugh, scrunching your face.

"Yeah," you agree, "shit."

He squeezes your hand.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah. Really liked it."

"Okay for your first time?"

"Yeah." You turn onto your side to face him, looking up at his face. There are a few curls stuck to his pretty pink face, and you admire the bob of his throat as he swallows and the squeeze of his hand in yours.

"You're really pretty," you tell him. You're not sure if this is the post-O haze the magazines talk about, or if it's some kind of clarity, or if it's just that you have this boy in the palm of your hand and you suddenly can't bear the thought of letting him go. Instead you want to plant anchors, heavy lines that will keep him right where he is.

He turns his head to look at you and you see him flush even more.

"So are you," he whispers, with another squeeze and a kiss to your forehead.

There are a few minutes of quiet after that. The light outside is gone for good, so he's glowing a low golden in the light of your bedside lamp. He kisses you again with a fondness that surely shouldn't come with this exchange, which you had rationalised as just that: a transaction, a mutual agreement to get something done.

You see him open his mouth, as if to speak, but close it again, so you reach a tentative hand up and brush some hair from his eyes and trace your knuckle down his temple, urging him.

"My friends," he begins, hesitant, "they're having a party, next weekend. Steve, he only lives round the corner, we passed his house on the way here... You wouldn't wanna come, would you?"

"With you?" you whisper into the fizzy darkness.

"Yeah." He smiles, eyes fluttering shut under your sweeping fingers. "With me."

"Is it a date?"

"It can be, if you want. Or we can just, y'know, go as friends, or whatever."

"No one's ever asked me on a date before."

He smiles, and it's soft and curled with an affectionate pity; one that says I'm sorry, that's not fair, it's nothing to do with you.

"Well, wanna come?"

"I'd love to."

He pulls your hand up and brings it to his mouth, where he kisses your knuckles. Goosebumps raise across your thighs and arms, and you realise you're cold.

He seems to sense your discomfort because you feel him shift beside you. He pulls you up with him and helps you climb off the bed on wobbly legs.

"I should pee," you tell him, heeding the warnings of girlfriends past.

"You should," he says, a little deflated.

You don't move, though. To move would be to acknowledge the end – the end of the transaction, of the favour. It's not something you want.

"I, uh," you begin, stumbling, "Don't- Do you want-"

"I can go now, if you want-"

"No, no, it's okay, I mean, you can go if you want, that's fine, I just-"

Your eyes are darting all over the carpet, skimming discarded clothes, so you don't notice him reach up until he's touching your face, holding it in his palm.

"I'll stay, if you want me to."

"Yes, please."

He smiles at you, sticky with fondness and you can't help but smile back.

"I'm gonna shower," you tell him, leaning further into his grasp.

"I'll be here."

"Munson! You made it!"

In the middle of the busy room, there's a tall guy, broad and burly, like all the jocks you went to high school with. He's startlingly pretty, with golden hair and honeyed skin, a wide, bright smile plastered across his face.

He steps on unsure feet over to Eddie, who is stood partially in front of you; you're cowering behind him, willing the courage to lift you and push you into the arms of strangers. For now, holding his hand will do just fine.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie greets, meeting him in one of those boyish embraces. You look around, taking in the faces; it's not the level of the high-school parties you used to go to, and definitely not the circus of the frat ones you've sometimes found yourself at, but it's busy enough. Where the guy – Harrington – came from, in the living room, there's a circle of people who are all smiling in your direction.

"Who's this?" The guy is looking at you over Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie tells Steve your name, and then turns to you. "This is Steve."

"Hi," you say to him, smiling, trying your best to hide the cruel nerves.

"Nice t'meet you!" he beams back. It's infectious; your smile turns firm and genuine in return. "Here, come meet the gang."

"C'mon," Eddie whispers to you with a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls you through the entryway, into the large living room, following Steve. He drops your hand to give and return hugs, saying hello to each person. You stand and watch, unsure of what to do, until one of the girls – the first one Eddie greeted – appears by your side.

"Hey," she says, perhaps a little too close.

"Hi."

"I'm Robin." She sticks her hand out and you shake it clumsily.

Eddie's back, with his hand in yours again, on your other side. He calls her Rob and tells her your name, and then does the same for each person – Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Mike, Max, Lucas, Dustin, El – too many for you to remember tonight, but you have a feeling you'll see them again.

"Hi, guys," you return with a wave.

Everything settles after that. You take a seat next to Eddie on the couch, legs up and over his own, making conversation with Robin who you like a lot. Nancy comes over and introduces herself again and you find you like her, too.

And then Steve appears, having disappeared twenty minutes before. He's a little drunker, and he hands you and Eddie a can each. You take it gratefully and open it, taking a swig.

"So," he begins, sitting on the opposite side of the circle to yourself and Eddie. "You from Hawkins?"

"No," you tell him, and repeat the story you told Eddie.

"Sweet! So how'd you meet?"

You turn your head to look at Eddie and find him having done the same thing. His eyes are wide, just as wide as you're sure yours are.

"Uh," you begin, drawing out the sound to buy yourself time.

"I did her a favour," he says, to your surprise, turning back to look at Steve with a sickly smile. "Just somethin' she'd put in the paper."

"That's so cute," Nancy says from behind you, her words chased by Robin adding a sarcastic, "Adorable."

The conversation moves on after that, and you turn around to Eddie again. He's looking back at you, his face pink and a smile tugging at his mouth. Before you can stop yourselves you're laughing, bursting into happy noises, bent double giggling.

He gives you another kiss, on the cheek this time, and quickly you settle back into conversations. The night is long and for the first time in a long time, it isn't lonely.

Hello! This is SO long - it really did take on a life of its own. I considered splitting it but couldn't find somewhere to do it, so I hope you enjoy this absolute beast nonetheless. I love you!

#ha ha I am sorry!#god it's long #I hope you love it <3 #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #eddie fic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie #eddie stranger things

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strangersteddierthings · 7 months

Text

Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

#steddie #my fic #this is just Miscommunication The Fic #hurt/comfort #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckleys the mvp for setting up the meeting by lying to eddie #shes going to demand a thank you gift for giving them the time to talk #and eddie WILL send her a whole fruit basket

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unclewaynemunson · 7 months

Text

Pt1 | Pt2 | this one is the last part!

After Steve has dropped Nancy off at her house – and Nancy has talked some courage into him – he drives to the uglier part of town, over Cornwallis and then into Forest Hills. He can only hope Eddie is home. If not, he'll try Jeff's house, and then Freak's or Gareth's. He had to promise Nancy he'll keep searching even if it has him ending up at Reefer Rick's boathouse again.

Luckily, no such search actions seem necessary when he gets to the trailer park: as soon as Steve opens his car door, he can hear loud music emerging from inside the Munsons' trailer. Even though it isn't exactly Eddie's usual taste, something tells Steve that Wayne definitely isn't the one who put this one on.

Should have known better than to cheat a friend And waste a chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you

He knocks on the door, but is not surprised when no one inside seems to hear him, so he pushes it open to let himself in instead.

He finds Eddie sprawled out on the floor in front of the old boombox. His eyes are closed, but even from Steve's place in the doorway he can see how swollen and red the skin underneath them is. His hair is spread out around his head on the floor like a dark halo, and his fingers are restlessly tapping on his own arm to the melody of the saxophone solo.

Steve finds himself frozen in the doorway, captivated by simply watching Eddie lying there in his own bubble while the music slowly fades out. Despite the sadness radiating off him, there's something weirdly beautiful about it, and Steve can't look away, can't move, can't make a sound.

Then, Eddie suddenly sits up; his index finger is already stretched out towards the rewind button when Steve clears his throat to make his presence known. Eddie whips his head towards him with a startled sound.

'Jesus Christ, what the hell?!' he yells out. 'How long have you been standing there? No, you know what, don't answer that, just get the hell out!'

'Eddie, I-'

'I don't wanna hear any of it, man! I thought – no, I'm not talking to you. Fuck you.' Steve knows it's supposed to sound angry, but Eddie's voice starts wobbling dangerously towards the end of his sentence.

'Eddie, please just hear me out,' Steve says, stepping further into the trailer. The end of Careless whisper has left a deafening silence in its wake. He half expects Eddie to cover his ears and start singing loudly, but he's only met with a teary-eyed death stare and crossed arms.

'I'm not seeing any girl, Dustin got it all wrong,' he starts to explain. 'I wanted to tell him who I was really seeing, but I couldn't - not without your permission - so I told him I was seeing someone. Meaning you. I haven't been seeing anyone ever since that first time we kissed. I didn't need to. I've only been thinking about you.' He pauses. It's scary, to let himself be vulnerable like this while Eddie is still looking at him like he despises him. But he takes a deep breath and pushes himself to say it all.

'I don't want to see anyone, boy or girl, ever again, as long as I can have you, Eddie. I promise. I've been falling for months, but I didn't wanna scare you off with any labels you might not want for us – but you're it for me, Eddie, one hundred percent. I never meant to hurt you like this. It's all a big misunderstanding; there's no one else for me.'

Eddie is still sitting on the floor, looking up at Steve with wide, teary eyes. Something in his face has slowly shifted while Steve was talking; the harsh lines around his mouth have turned softer and the betrayal in his eyes has made way for something Steve can only hope to be good.

'You wanted to tell Dustin about us?' is all Eddie says, his voice croaky.

Steve takes another step towards Eddie, then crouches down to the ground until he's sitting right next to him on the worn carpet.

'I mean, I know I don't wanna hide what I'm feeling for you. Especially not when people are thinking I'm going out with some girl when all I want is to be with you.' He reaches out to grab Eddie's hands in his own. 'So yeah, I think I wanna tell Dustin. And everyone else, basically. That is, if we're on the same page about what we are.'

Eddie frees one of his hands from Steve's grip to wipe it over his eyes. His palm is wet when his hand finds Steve's again.

'What about boyfriends?' he says, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face.

Steve squeezes his hands, unable to stop a matching smile of his own appearing. To hear that word falling from Eddie's mouth... He had expected it to feel good, of course, but he had never anticipated it to feel like this: like the whole world suddenly makes sense again.

'Yeah, I can do boyfriends,' he answers, his voice breathy with the multitude of emotions bubbling up inside of him. 'That sounds – sounds good. Great. Perfect.'

Eddie surges forward to catch him in a kiss that's a bit wetter than Steve is used to. Steve happily kisses him back, though, and he can barely suppress a shiver when one of Eddie's hands makes its way upwards over Steve's back and into the hair in his neck. There's a softness to his touch that easily drives Steve crazy with relief.

When they pull back, both of them are smiling dumbly and breathing heavily.

'I'm sorry I had so little trust in you,' Eddie tells him.

'That's okay, I understand,' Steve is quick to answer. 'As long as you leave listening to George Michael to me again from now on.'

Eddie makes a face, causing a big frown to appear between his eyebrows, along with all kinds of wrinkles around his nose.

'God, I can't believe you witnessed that and still wanted to be my boyfriend,' he says, adding an exaggerated shudder for extra dramatics.

Steve clenches his arms tighter around Eddie. 'You won't scare me off that easily,' he murmurs. 'It was kind of adorable.'

'It was pathetic.'

'Yeah, a little bit. But in an adorable way.'

Eddie rolls his eyes. 'You're an idiot, Steve Harrington,' he says. 'But... In an adorable way.'

Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx @candlecatsblog @goodolefashionedloverboi @jojobeaner @pinkdaisies1998 @giverobinagfbrigade @therealscarletpumpernickel @darkwithcoferie @duraffinity @lyriclight @almondflavoredbookworm @kingelyx @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @m-owo-n @altermagic @sirsnacksalot @littlebookworm86 @platinum-sunset @chaosgremlinmunson @morganski-19 @cam-cat-writer @slime-hoe @bat-outta-hel @justsearchingformystory @notfromtwitter @ashwinmeird @marklee-blackmore @warlordess @breealtair @pansexualhousecat @louwilsonscreamingpapa @inikokoru (more tags in the replies bc tumblr is being a dick again)

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #idiot4idiot #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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yanderederee · 7 months

Text

Perfect

ctw: Yandere themes ~ explicit nsfw midway

part1 … part2 … part3 … now~ … part5

“I’m just worried about you!”

“You shouldn’t get so close, yaknow…”

“He’s going to hurt you one of these days!”

Mikey really couldn’t stand your friends sometimes.

They thought they knew the whole picture. Some goody two shoes who fell head first for the bad boy who never came to school.

It’s not like they bothered to acknowledge how you two genuinely got to know one another, how you helped get him back on track with school, how you looked at him like he held the world in his hands, or how deeply he cared— really cared for you.

All they wanted to acknowledge was how you never had any free time anymore. ‘He’s so clingy’ this, and ‘can’t we talk alone?’ That.

Sure, maybe Mikey hated when you looked at someone other than him for longer than ten seconds. But that didn’t make him a bad boyfriend!

“What’cha guys talking about?~” Mikey smiled innocently when he came up behind you. The girls surrounding you gasped, and backed away immediately.

Mikey was so friendly, how could they reject him so harshly? Maybe it was the death glare he burned into their skin, or the threats he made to them days prior for trying to fuel your head with all this nonsense to begin with.

“Morning, Manjiro~” you smiled back, placing your hand softly on the arm he slung over you protectively.

You never cared how other people saw you, even if you were dating the most notorious delinquent in Shinjuku and Shibuya alike.

And that same indifferent nature was just another reason you had him wrapped around your finger.

One of your friends clicked her tongue, and glared at you. “Whatever, don’t come crying to us about it later.”

You were a tough cookie. It took a lot to get under your skin. Yet somehow, that did.

Little by little, anyone who you used to interact with would suddenly give you the cold shoulder. No more friendly smiles or casual waves. If you even were acknowledged, it was with strained levels of respect, addressing you only by your family name, or curt bows.

No doubt from Mikey’s influence.

Still, if no one else, you had your Manjiro. His undeniable presence of security and words of comfort… he had only ever meant to give you the world, and in secret, punish anyone who would dare separate you.

“They don’t know nothing,” Mikey waved off your friends before hugging you close. You didn’t bother to point out his grammatical mistake. “You know I’d never make you cry, right?” He asked with his watery puppy eyes.

Smile so pure, you ruffled the mess of hair on Mikey’s head. “Course not.” You agreed.

He loved when you agreed with him. Validated his delusions.

“I can’t wait for our next study session~” Mikey sighed in contentment, a soft blush hanging over his features. Your face too caught heat at the taboo mention, in school no less. “T-that was..” you tried coming up with the words that could properly display your thoughts on yesterday, but Mikey loved finishing your sentences for you. “Heavenly. I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to heaven in my life, than I had then…”

Mikey nuzzled the bridge of his nose into the crook of your exposed neck, regretful he hadn’t left any long lasting love bites behind, like he intended. He was too enthralled in other sensations, but tonight, he’d make sure not to be so negligent.

“You’re so cute,” you giggled at his words of sentiment. “But don’t get spoiled now.”

Mikey narrowed his eyebrows in a pout. “Not fair~” he whined into your shoulder, unfazed by the looks of shock or ridicule classmates around you were giving at the public display of… affection.

Turning your head, you kissed your Manjiro’s scalp lovingly. “Fine fine~ just be patient. After school, okay?” You affirmed in a soft spoken tone.

Mikey smirked.

He loved how easily you gave in to him.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ nsfw below ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈

“M-ma—! Manjiro..!” You yelled desperately, feeling your legs tense so harshly, you began to shake uncontrollably. “Pl-please, I-I’m—!”

But your voice only fueled the desire that flooded Mikey’s senses.

The feeling of your soft thighs against his hands. Your smell. The way playing with you made you scream. It was surreal, like nothing he had ever experienced. The adrenaline of doing these things for the first time only amped his speed further.

Ever since you showed Mikey how to pull back your clitoral hood and exposed your most sensitive parts, he’s been infatuated.

Exploring his tongue over the bundle of nerves, he tried everything, til his hearts content. Shallow licks, slow at first, until he crescendo’d the movement into a quick zig zag motion. The first orgasm he got out of you was evident and loud.

He was so glad he moved his room to the shed, lest his grandfather kill him for his inappropriate actions.

Yet still, even when you twirled his locks into your gentle fists to pull him up, he hurried himself deeper into you. This was heaven, like he said before. How could you take what away from him?

With a more broad sweep of his tongue, he made sure to slowly taste all the wetness you’d produced from your first orgasm. So sweet.

Just as slow as he started, adding pressure from the tip of his tongue, he started from your exposed clit, down til he felt the inward dip of your fluttering hole.

Your moan was soft and low, the movement perfectly easing you down from sensations just seconds ago. But he wanted to keep going, see what sounds you would make by sucking on you.

A drawn out whine escaped your throat when he’d done this. “I-I’m sensitive..! You can’t-“ you tried reasoning with him, but his lazy hooded gaze spoke for itself: he was having the time of his life.

With another hard suck, you whined loud, and threw your head back. “Ahh!—“

God, your cries alone could render him into a horny mess. More, he decided. He wanted to hear more of those sounds. Putting in the extra work, the grip he had on your legs slid up til your hips were under his strength. Pulling your hips upward, he pressed his tongue unbearably closer.

You always gave him just what he wanted. Louder; his name escapes your lips like a mantra. Mikey couldn’t get enough. Just as the muscle of his tongue and your squirming hips met a comfortable rhythm, it was only a matter of minutes before you felt that familiar tension building inside you again.

“M-Mikey! Gonna’..” you made weak attempts at warning him of your oncoming release, but the release overtook your senses before you could do so. A moan more pornographic and sincere soon blessed Manjiro’s eager ears.

You were heaven. It was obvious now, all his blessings in this world was squirming right under him. Your essence. Your angelic cries. The way your thighs cradled him impossibly closer— the way your toes curled and shaking body rattled the frame of his bed.

You were his euphoria.

It was a shame your head was thrown back. He tried getting a good look at your face when you cried so sweetly, but couldn’t.

Enjoying the last few involuntary thrusts your body released, Mikey finally release your core with a loud sounding pop.

His lips were red from friction, but he’d never been happier. Attentions all about you, he slowly rose to his knees on the bed, trying to see your face. His hands stayed glued to your hips as his fingertips traced the curves of your body.

“Manjiro…” you breathed out quietly, turning to reveal your glazed over eyes. Mikey smiled wide, feeling his heart skip a beat at the sight of you.

“You’re so perfect.”

You would never be able to leave Manjiro. For years to come, you would faithfully remain his. Lest the taste of death come between you.

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bellawoso · 5 months

Text

How You Get The Girl

Alexia putellas x fem!reader

(Featuring Alexia in denial and Mapi’s devil antics)

This was not how Alexia was expecting her weekend to go.

She was supposed to be having a weekend trip to Mallorca with her closest long-time friend, Jenni. As much as it pained Alexia to leave her 4 legged companion behind, she knew she would also have an even harder time leaving her at a hotel when her and Jenni went to some bars, as Jenni said ‘to find someone to spice up her life a bit’.

Mapi was definitely not her first choice on who to leave Nala with, however with most of the team using their break to travel back to their families, it left only Mapi and Ingrid to look after her Pomeranian.

However, after receiving a frantic phone call from Mapi, with the few words she managed to make out due to the defender’s worry laced voice being: Nala, Cake, Vets.

———————————————————————

Alexia rushed onto the next flight and was at the vets in around 2 hours, to find Mapi still in the waiting room clutching her beloved dog, and Alexia was quick to snatch Nala from her.

It took everything in Alexia’s power to not start cursing Mapi out for her carelessness, but as she gave in and threw a snide remark at the defender, it was interupted by the receptionist.

“Nala is ready to be seen”

Alexia rushed to the door with Nala in her arms, and Mapi trailing behind. They were shown into the room, and Alexia walked straight into someone quite a bit shorter than her, this combined with the fact she is a professional footballer who keeps on top of her strength training resulted in her basically knocking this person over.

“¡Lo siento, lo siento!”, She said whilst keeping her eyes on Nala to check she wasnt hurt even more by her collision.

As Alexia looked up at the person she had crashed into, she was met with arguably the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Only to be met with a shove from her best friend, was when Alexia realised she had been staring.

“Alexia stop ogling the poor woman and apologise”

“I did!” countered the midfielder.

“Maybe in English would be smarter? So that she actually understands you!”

At the realisation that you had absolutely no idea what ‘lo siento’ meant, Alexia’s cheeks flushed crimson red, which recieved one of Mapi’s infamous snorts of laughter behind her.

Alexia honestly had no idea what was happening to her. She knows that your pretty, but she had seen other pretty girls before, why did you make her feel like this?

“Hello, I will be Nala’s vet for today, i will just go grab her records from reception, wont be a minute!” you said with a soft smile.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Mapi burst iut laughing.

“Ale, as much as i love you, you were embarrassing there! If this is how you act around girls, no wonder you have never had a serious relationship”

“Shut up! I am not attracted to her, she makes me feel like i want to throw up!”

“Honey, thats called butterflies in your stomach! pretty cliché if you ask me, but I didnt realise you were such a romantic!” Mapi retorted, still laughing.

“I’m not a romantic. I’m not into her. I just want her to treat my dog, and then i can go play football after”

“Wait until i tell the team about this! The scary la reina, reduced to a blushing mess by a cute vet who she body slammed and then spent a minute ogling her, all because she has a little crush”

Before Alexia could respond with a threat of using her captain title to punish Mapi with tunning laps, the door clicked open to reveal you rushing back in.

Nala, who usually was very timid and barked at anyone who got near her, immediately jumped off of Alexia’s lap and ran straight up to you and jumped at your legs, to which you responded by picking her up and gushing over the cute little ball of fluff.

Alexia knew that if she wasnt already sat down her knees would have buckled at the sight of her dog basically confirming the fact that you were perfect for her. As Alexia contined to daydream about you, she was interupted by a hand clicking in her face, to which she turned to glare at Mapi’s toothy grin.

“Te distrajiste, el lindo vert estaba tratando de preguntarte sobre Nala. (You zoned out, the cute vet was trying to ask you about Nala)” Mapi said with a knowing smirk.

“¡Callarse la boca! y deja de llamarla linda. (Shut up! and stop calling her cute”

“¿Celosa? (jealous?)”

“Nunca. (never)”

However, when the two spaniards turned to face you, they were met by your dumbfounded face trying to decipher a word of what they just said. Although you had been taking Spanish classes since you moved to Spain, both Alexia and Mapi spoke the languge with too heavy of an accent and too fast for you to understand.

“So you filled out your form saying Nala ate a full chocolate cake?” You asked.

“¡Si! Yes! Will she be okay?” Alexia responded worriedly.

“Honestly this happens a lot, and there is no point her having ang unnecessary procedures, so we usually reccomend her take these tablets twice a day for a week and if you notice any unusual behaviour, bring her back here. I will write you a prescription for it now!”

“Ah okay thankyou, do I scedule an appointment for after she finishes the pills for a checkup?”

“No, the pills are enough, no checkup” You say with a smile.

As Alexia now realised that she would probably not see you again for a while, she slumped back in her seat and a new frown sat predominantly on her face.

Upon Mapi seeing this, she immediately felt an impulsive urge to assist one of her closest friends in her crush dilemma situation.

So Mapi did what she did best.

“My friend thinks your hot and wants your number now”

At hearing this you blushed bright red and Alexia smacked Mapi round the head.

“Excuse my friend! She can be very blunt… and stupid” Alexia said as Mapi emits an offended gasp, “As I would have politely asked you at the end, could I please have your number, as I think your very beautiful”

You are still sat there in absolute shock, you knew who these two people were, Alexia Putellas and Mapi Leon. Two world famous Spanish and Barcelona football players, you couldn’t help but wonder what the two time balon d’or winner wanted with your number.

Unfortunately, Alexia mistook your shock for rejection.

“I’m sorry, I have made it awkward, it’s okay that you dont feel comfortable giving me your number” Alexia suddenly stood up to leave, and pulled Mapi up with her “Thankyou for your help, goodbye”

The spaniard quickly took the prescription from your desk and rushed out with Nala in her arms, and urging Mapi to follow her, who felt slightly bad for embarrassing her friend like that.

———————————————————————

Alexia quicky rushed back down the corridor to the receptionist desk, wanting to get Nala’s prescription, and get out of the stupid vets as soon as possible, probably as she knew to return to her house and cry at the embarrassment she had suffered today.

The midfielder was about to hand over the prescription to the receptionist, but Mapi’s eyes caught a glimpse of something on the back of the paper.

“Alexia stop!”

Alexia turned to glare at the defender, “What now?” She said followed by an exasperated sigh.

“The paper!”

At this, Alexia turned over the paper, and couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips, as there was your number hastily scribbled down with a note: -call me

As she noted down the number into her contacts, she realised, she hadn’t even asked for your name.

Alexia turned to the receptionist, and asked, “Who was the vet that just saw us?”

“Y/n, she’s sweet, just moved here from London recently!”

“Thankyou” Alexia replied, as the receptionist grabbed the pills, Alexia put down your name into her contacts and sent you a quick message.

- Hey! It’s Alexia, from the clinic, I wasn’t lying when i told you i thought you were beautiful and I would love to take you on a date sometime?

#barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #mapi leon #maria leon #mapi león #mapi leon x reader #Spotify

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