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#V&7k
silvernmoonlace · 5 months
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at last, after years of resistance, I have succumbed to the modern au 😔
so have Hugo in a silly lil outfit hehehe ^^ (wip)
silbern lore moment: did digital art (on PC lol) for the first time in a while :> (hamborgor) +minecraft
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zonerobotnik · 11 months
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If the argument for Varian being really strong is that he is an inventor, why then is Hugo, also an inventor, considered to be physically weak? 🙄 Hugo, Yong and Varian are both strong boi inventors and take turns carrying Nuru who pretends she hates it but actually loves not having to walk on the dirty road with her dainty sheltered princess shoes.
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inkykeiji · 6 months
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my boyfriend got some new aftershave that smells like sandalwood so he’s basically bmb tomura now~
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hey, here’s the deal (we’re back in business) Chapter Two: you’re such a big mess (and i love you)
AO3
reblogs are highly appreciated, and please do not repost my art
The portal works, and Marcy stands in Newtopia. 
Or, well, where Newtopia used to be. It’s still a huge mess, and the castle is still lopsided over on a different island, but still. Newtopia. 
She’s standing in a more repaired part of the city- sorta near where the castle used to be but far enough from where it ripped itself out of the ground that it’s not too badly damaged- having just stepped through Terri’s portal (and Terri is SO COOL) into Amphibia. Anne and Sasha have already gone through their own portals, Anne destined for Wartwood and Sasha for the remains of the southern Toad Tower. She’d wanted to meet up with Grime, but unlike the Plantars or Olivia and Yunan, they really couldn’t be sure where the old captain would be, but Sasha had said it was a good start. Toads were really stubborn and they probably would’ve tried to rebuild the tower by now. 
So they were there, and Marcy was here. Looking for Olivia and Yunan, who would probably be together. 
Marcy wonders if they’re married yet. 
She turns to look at the horizon (the blue, blue sky and the lush green mountains, so unlike LA), and, well, looks like she ended up basically right exactly where she landed in Amphibia the first time! Though she hasn’t fallen down any stairs yet. Probably would be a good idea to avoid that.
“All right,” Marcy hums, hand on her chin, “if I was the king’s former royal advisor and top general, where would I be if the castle got destroyed?” She scans the city and thinks about that. Olivia usually did a lot of paperwork, and Yunan was in charge of a lot of people as a general, so…
“The royal offices!” Marcy snaps her fingers as it comes to her. “Of course! If you’re putting together a new government ‘cause the old one failed ‘cause the king betrayed everyone, you gotta do a lot of paperwork!” And the offices should still be standing because they were on a lower tier of the city and not in the castle itself. Yeah! They should be there, and if they’re not, someone there will probably know. And she’s Marcy Wu, Chief Ranger! People know her! She can probably get some directions there. 
Read the rest on AO3
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inkyajax · 1 year
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TA!alhaitham is like,,, over 10k words and it makes me want to cryyy because it’s so much work to go through n it takes forever to edit but!!!!! i am so so so happy with how it’s turning out so far and i cannot wait to share it here!!! (ノ´ヮ´)ノ*:・゚✧ ♡
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mr007pennyworth · 2 years
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A snippet from some late night fiction I've been writing while the wifi was down:
@dontcxckitup
Alfred would have given anything to get out of that jeep, to have turned around and run back across the board gates to Gareth. But he'd been designated to drive and that's what he'd done, pressed a kiss to the boys cheek, swallowed the pain and walked away without answering him. He'd never cried so much in one night ever since.
"Go make me proud pup"
"This…this isn't goodbye is it?"
Alfred cringes as the grief twinges painfully in his heart and stumbles as he returns to the counter. The glass in his hand clatters slightly on the table top as he blinks himself back to the kitchen. He's immediately focused on breathing, he fears triggering a spasm these days. It's stupid, it sounds stupid. Broken heart syndrome. So stupid.
He's pretty sure there's the sound of Gareths chair moving but he can't take his eyes off the marble counter top as he counts each heartbeat.
"Alf?"
Gareth came back. He keeps trying to remind himself that. Gareth found him.
He feels sick that it had to be that way. He'd always promised he'd find Gareth in the end. He'd originally promised there would be no goodbye.
Hands are taking the glass away and pulling him back, turning him. When Alfred looks up from the block faded text of 'I Hate Sand' he's looking into those crystal blue eyes once again and he forgets to breathe. Arms holding him are stronger than they used to be, they hold a comfort Alfred never considered he'd feel again after the death of Thomas and Martha.
He finds his own fingers are digging into Gareths sides into the shirt, into the muscle, as if his brain really needs a reminder he exsists.
"You okay? Your miles away" Gareth asks, his eyes are concerned but he's smiling. His smile forces air back into Alfreds lungs and suddenly everything is. There standing in the lake house and everything is fine. It will never perfect again but it can be what ever they make of it now.
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princemick-archive · 2 years
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anyway yall today has been inasane, I hope yall had fun and goodnight
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varteeny1234 · 2 months
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i have a new blorbo everybody her name is marma1ade (yes with the 1 for the L) and she is very sweet and actually plays minecraft so similarly to the way i do! she's not like all the clickbait people who go all "LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE!" YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT I DID!" "[insert weird thing] BUT IN MINECRAFT!!!!]"
...and now that i really think about it, she has a sort-of similar video format and general vibe to ethoslab? and i actually do really like both of their chill friendly slower-paced type of video so that's a pattern i noticed
anyways if anyone needs me i will be thinking about this woman and her curse of mobs appearing in all the places they Should Not Be At All it's so funny why does everything keep spawning in the worst possible locations askdjfkasdj
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harri-etvane · 7 months
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the three chapter, 4k word hurt/comfort monstrosity I wrote mostly over this last week is now at 100 kudos which I am pleasantly surprised / humbled by :)
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zonerobotnik · 1 year
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While working on that MadoMagi commission, I thought that Homura's dress would look adorable on Nuru, so here she is. Our starry princess, dressed like an idol. <3
Maybe this is part of Band AU?
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rotzaprachim · 1 year
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this original fiction story that took me 2 days, in the main, to write (although i’d sketched and thought deeply about much of it before hand) and a week to type up, not to mention the editing... barely started....
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eddiesxangel · 3 months
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Show You | Virgin Eddie x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Eddie meets you 4 years after he escapes the upside-down when he moves to your small Californian town.
Wc: 7k AN: sorry to the anons that requested Virgin!Eddie like a month ago, but here shit is!
Cw: shy/angsty/insecure!Eddie, fluff, SMUT, Virgin Eddie x experienced fem reader, size kink, blowjob, p in v, protected sex, sub!Eddie. Switch?eddie, dirty talk.
1990
Eddie’s life for his first twenty years wasn’t necessarily the best… drugs, alcohol, child neglect, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. Eddie’s dreams were haunted by the horror story of his life, which was 1986.
Four years ago, the gates of hell opened, and Eddie was dragged into them, kicking and screaming. Eventually, he got out with his weird band of misfits, but the scars left on his body by those disgusting creatures only remind him daily of the horrors he survived.
He survived. He got out and was paid a fat sum by the American government for keeping quiet. So he took the money and his Uncle and they ran. They ran far, far away from Hawkins, so far they ended up in the quaint town of Ferndale, California.
The Munson men had grown accustomed to the small-town life and did not want to give that up. They were pleasantly surprised when they moved to Ferndale. The vibrant Victorian-style homes painted in different shades of pastel colours added a pop of colour to the town's landscape. Wayne was particularly taken by the town's charm and ultimately decided he didn't want to leave.
The smell of saltwater from the nearby ocean was a refreshing change, and the Munson men enjoyed taking long walks on the beach during their free time to clear their heads of their tortured past. The picturesque scenery of Ferndale was a welcome change from the mundane routine of their old town of Hawkins.
With that money from the government, Eddie was able to buy himself and his uncle a nice four-bedroom house; they had so much room for just the two of them they didn’t know what to do with it. Eddie owed everything to his uncle, so of course, he needed to splurge.
Eddie had to undergo hours of physical therapy daily to fix every joint and muscle on the right side of his body, which made it difficult for him to perform even the simplest of tasks. It took him a couple of years to recover and walk properly again, but he remained determined to make a fresh start and leave his old life behind.
Once he was finally able to function normally, Eddie set out to find a new job that would provide him with a real opportunity to rebuild his life. He was determined to leave his past behind and start anew without any remnants of his old life hanging over him, including drug dealing. Eddie knew that it wouldn't be easy, but he remained committed to his goal. He was willing to put in the hard work necessary to succeed in his new job and build a better life for himself. For him, this was a second chance, a fresh start that he was determined to make the most of.
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The door chimed and jingled as the fall air flowed into the small music store. While the locals were bundled up in layers of corduroy and jean jackets, scarves, and gloves, Eddie enjoyed the breeze that entered the shop. His faded black Metallica t-shirt was the only one in sight.
The doorbell's persistent chime was starting to wear on Eddie's nerves as the evening came to a close. It had been a long and busy day, with customer after customer coming in. With only twenty minutes left to go, he was getting ready to close up shop alone tonight. He considered flipping the sign a little early because, finally, after hours of non-stop work, the floor was empty of people.
Eddie was behind the counter, wiping down the work area and facing away from the door, when he heard those dreaded chimes. His shoulders dropped with defeat; he was a fool to think this day could be ended early.
He put on a façade of good customer service, but his expression quickly changed to genuine happiness mixed with nerves upon seeing who had walked into the small record store.
He had seen you around town, at the grocery store and sometimes at the beach. He admired you from afar, never once approaching you. No. You intimidated him but in the best way. You were like no other woman he had seen before.
Growing up in Hawkins, being secluded as the town freak, he didn’t have much exposure to female attention. Or any romantic attraction for that fact. So when you entered the store, Eddie’s palms felt sweaty, and his heart started to race; he could hear the blood pounding in his ears as his eyes locked with yours.
He swore he saw a sparkle in your eyes when you looked at him, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. He didn’t even know your name yet.
“E-evening,” he awkwardly waved as you browsed the slim aisle.
“Hi,” your face broke out into a smile and went back to your search. Your best friend Charlie’s birthday was tomorrow, and you needed to get her a gift before her party.
As you searched and searched, you were still looking for an album you thought she would like. You two were total opposites when it came to your music preferences, so you had no idea what to get her. After minutes with no success, you found yourself calling out to the only other person in the store.
“Hey, I don't mean to bother you, but I need your opinion.” You snap Eddie out of his little daydream, obviously that you were the start of that daydream.
“Sure!” He said he was a bit too excited. “How can I help you” he smiled but swung his long arms back and forth uncomfortably as he approached you.
“I’m looking for a birthday gift, and I’m a total newbie when it comes to metal. Do you think you can help me?” You bite your lip, observing the man in front of you.
He possessed an alluring, bad-boy persona that made him quite charming. His hair was long, reaching his shoulders, and looked unstyled, yet it was evident that he had taken time to make it look just right. The chocolate waves cascaded down his face, framing his striking features, which were difficult to ignore. His big, round eyes were captivating, and they softened his tough exterior, making him appear less intimidating, especially with that nasty scar running through his left cheek and up to his temple. He had a fair complexion, and his arms were visible, revealing numerous tattoos that covered some scars running up from his forearm to his bicep, which aided his rugged appearance.
He saw you staring and immediately wrapped his arms around himself, trying to conceal the scars from your gaze. You felt bad. You know it’s rude to stare, but he was so enticing to look at; you’d never seen anyone like him before, especially not in this North California town of yours.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You gestured to the arms he was concealing.
"S'all good." He brushed it off, but you could tell he was, in fact, uncomfortable.
"If it makes you feel any better... it makes you look like a total badass." You smirked.
"Oh really?" hearing your compliment did make Eddie feel a little better.
"Yeah, total babe magnet." You flirt.
"Well... I don't know about that?" Eddie's closed-off demeanour quickly changed to bashful.
"You're not from here, are you?" you looked at his name tag "Eddie," you cock your head, taking him in once again.
He's taller than you by at least a full head. His shoulders are broad, and his torso is lean. You'd guess he is around your age, mid-twenties, give or take a year or two.
Eddie liked the way you said his name.
"Nah, moved here a few years ago," he smirked.
"Well, I'm glad you did because you look just like the style of a guy who can help me." You bite your lip.
"I do?"
"Like I said, my friend is a total metalhead, and I don't have a clue on what to get?"
"Sure, yeah, I'm definitely your guy for that."
He walked you over to the correct section of the store, and you noticed a slight limp to his gate.
"If they're just an okay friend, I suggest this," He held up a small cassette. "but if they're a really good friend, Then this is definitely the thing to get them."
"Oh, this looks like something they would like! Charlie never shuts up about this band." You smile, taking the record from Eddie's hands. You decide this is the one and let Eddie know you want him to ring you up.
"So is Charlie like your boyfriend or something" God Munson, real smooth.'
This made you giggle.
"Why do you wanna ask me out or something? You cocked your head.
"Yeah, or something," Eddie's demeanour suddenly became coy.
"Well, Charlotte is my best friend, no boyfriend. " you take the record off Eddie's hands.
"Oh ok cool-cool”
Seconds of awkward silence filled the air, you could sense he wanted to talk to you more.
“Yea, well um”-
“You think I could have your number?" He asked while fiddling with his fingers. His long, thick fingers were decorated with silver rings, scars and chipped black polish. You liked his fingers; he looked like the kind of guy who knew how to use them.
Eddie's personality was more like that of a teddy bear than his outward appearance suggested.
"Sure," You smiled and pulled out an old receipt and a pen from your purse. You flipped it to the blank side and wrote your name and number on the back. "Call me." You winked as you passed it to Eddie before exiting the store.
Eddie couldn't believe what just happened. He locked up as soon as you left, watching to make sure you made it into your car safely. The crime rate in this town was non-existent, but now Eddie knew what was lurking in the shadows. He could never be too careful.
Eddie made it home about half an hour later and was examining the small paper you'd given him. He looked over the pink loopy writing of your name, and he traced over the love heart you'd written in the top right corner.
"What that you got there, boy" Wayne walked into the room and noticed what Eddie had been memorizing. He bent down and picked up the white paper marked in pink ink off of the coffee table. "Well, well, well, I'll be damned," He huffed with excitement. It was about time Eddie put himself out there.
"I bet she's real cute." He winked at his blushing nephew.
"Yeah," Eddie sighed, thinking about your face.
"If you need any tips, let me know." Wayne smiled.
"Huh?"
"I'll have you know I know how to treat a lady right, so when you come begging for help, I'll be right here." He patted his shoulder.
"Yeah, okay, Mr. Cassanova." Eddie scoffed. Wayne had never been with anyone since Eddie entered his life.
"Whatever," Wayne mumbled under his breath as he exited the living room to give Eddie some semblance of privacy. He would be able to hear the whole conversation, but he still wanted to give the illusion of privacy to his boy.
When the phone rang, you had been wrapping Charlie's present in your bedroom.
"I got it!" You yelled out to your roommates, rushing over to the other end, praying that it was Eddie on the other end.
You let it ring two more times as you took a deep breath before picking it up.
"Hello," You smiled.
"Hey, uh, this is Eddie."
"Hi, Eddie," you smiled. He could tell it was you by your voice. "I'm glad you called." You played with the phone cord, wrapping it and then unwrapping it from your fingers as you spoke.
"I was wondering if you were free on Saturday?"
You jumped up and down, giddy he was asking you out, when Charlie and Evan, your two roommates, rounded the corner to see what had gotten you all googly-eyed.
"I work Saturday until three, but I'm free after" You look at your roommates and Charlie's mouth "Who's that"
"Great, I -uh- was thinking we could maybe see a movie or dinner or both; yeah, both are good." Eddie cleared his throat.
"Yeah, both are good," You giggle back.
"Great, I can pick you up around six, that okay?"
You agree and give him your address. You wish him a good night and hang up with phone with the biggest smile on your face.
"Okay, spill, who was that." Evan and Charlie corner you before you can escape.
"You know the music store on Main St.?" You grin.
"Yea," they say in unison.
"I was in there tonight, and the guy who works there, Eddie, asked me for my number, and we are going out on Saturday."
"You mean the scary guy with the hair and the nasty scar on his face?" Evan's eyes widen.
"Trust me, he is not scary," you giggle.
"Okay," Evan draws out. He was always protective of you.
"Trust me, you should have seen how timid he was; he's really sweet." You reassure them.
"We need to get you an outfit!" Charlie jumps into action, heading for your room.
"Wait!" You rush by her, shoving the gift under your pillow so she can't see anything.
"Something I should know? any particular reason you were at the music store tonight?"
"Nope! No reason at all; I saw a cute guy and thought I would shoot my shot." You brush off
"Yeah, okay," She totally knew.
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Eddie was frantic. This was honestly and truly his first date. He doesn’t count the disaster of a night that was Jackie Manning in the fourth grade that had been wiped from his memory.
Eddie was bouncing around the house from room to room, trying to gather things he needed for the evening. He wanted this to work. He wanted to get to know you. He wanted to build something, he was already a twenty four year old who’s never been in a relationship or had sex. And he wanted those two things so badly. He was lonely, and he missed his friends from Hawkins, but he could never go back, not after everything that had happened. And because of everything that happened was the exact reason he was still a virgin.
The pressure to please was building in his head as the time started getting closer to 6:00pm.
“Don’t psych yourself out, kid.” Wayne watched as his nephew flew around the house. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“What if she thinks I’m a freak like everyone else?” His sentence tapers off as his voice turns into a mumbled whisper.
“Son, listen to me. This town is no Hawkins. You do not need to hide anymore, and you never know. Maybe she’s more of a freak than you ever can be,” his uncle laughed.
“Not helping.” He rolls his eyes, walking back to his room. He was looking for the new cologne he bought for tonight. He sprits it on himself maybe one too many times, but it didn’t matter, he was sweating so much he needed to change his shirt, again.
Looking into the mirror, he couldn't help but notice the scars that crisscrossed along his torso. It was obvious that his scars had a story, one that was filled with pain and struggle. Despite feeling self-conscious, Eddie took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was more than his physical appearance. With care, he fixed his hair and pulled on a black long-sleeved collared shirt, hoping it would provide some comfort and confidence.
With one last deep breath, he worked up the courage to grab his keys and walk out the front door.
“Good luck, be yourself, don’t forget the flowers and open the door for her damnit! I didn’t raise you to be no brute!”
“Got it!” Eddie yelled out before shutting the door with a click.
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As you were lost in thought, a distant rumble of an old engine caught your attention, and you instinctively turned towards the window. You noticed a striking red two-door sedan pulling up to the front of your house, and your eyes were immediately drawn to Eddie as he stepped out of the car. He exuded an air of confidence, wearing a sleek black leather jacket that complimented his impressive physique. You couldn't help but watch as he flicked the butt of his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under his black boots.
Your gaze moved up his long, toned legs, admiring the way they looked in his fitted black jeans, to his slim waist and broad shoulders that seemed to dominate the space around him. As he walked towards the trunk of the car, his movements were so graceful that they seemed almost rehearsed. He retrieved what looked like a bouquet of flowers. You couldn’t help but fucked him as you watched how he walked up to the front porch. He looked like pure sex, and you couldn’t wait to climb him like a tree.
Yeah, it has been a while since you last got laid, and this date with Eddie was getting your hopes up that that streak will soon come to an end.
The closer he got to the porch, the more the butterflies built in your stomach. The knock on the door shot you up from where you were perched, and you quickly made your way down the stairs.
“Hi” you smile brightly as you open the door.
“Hey,” Eddie smirked shyly as he took you in. It was like he forgot to breathe for a second. How could someone be cute and sexy at the same time?
“Hi” you repeated.
“I got you these.” he passed you a cute bouquet of pink and purple flowers.
“Thank you, Eddie.” You smile and smell them, finding your bashfulness.
“For us, you shouldn’t have!” Evan comes up and takes the flowers out of your hands
“Okay, bad boy, have our girl back by midnight” Charlie comes up from behind you, giving Eddie a once over.
“Charlie?” Eddie points.
“Oh, you talked about me? I’m flattered,” your best friend pecks you on the cheek.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are?” Eddie motions to Evan.
“Evan” he smiles and puts his hand out to shake. “The unspoken about roommate.”
“Don’t worry about him. He’s just salty. I’m going out, and he’s stuck at home with Charlie and her new Dio album,” you smirk.
“Well, I hope you enjoy, I’m personally a fan of track 8,” Eddie rocks back on his heels.
“I like him; he’s the boy version of me.” Charlie nods in approval.
“Okay, let’s go.” You grab Eddie's arm and close the door behind you before your roommates can say anymore.
Eddie walked you to the passenger side of the red sedan and opened the door for you.
“Thank you,” you smiled, and Eddie jogged to the other side.
The car ride was a little quiet but not long. Eddie jogged out to the other side and opened the door for you with a smile.
You talked a bit more before the movie. He bought the popcorn and drinks. He didn’t open up much about why he moved, but you spoke about your interests and your future goals up until the movie started.
During the movie, you tried to pass signals to him to make a move. You rested your hand out so he could take it, but it seemed that he was engrossed in the film. You tried leaning in closer so he could put his arm around you, but nothing. So you pulled a Hail Mary and rested your hand on his thigh. You felt his body stiffen under your touch, but the. He relaxed a little and took your hand in his.
You glanced over at Eddie, and he was grinning at you. The light off the movie screen reflected off the deep scar marking Eddie’s cheek. God, he was beautiful.
“What?” Eddie whispered.
Shit, did you say that out loud?
“You’re beautiful.” You whispered back confidently. Something about Eddie told you he wasn’t complimented often, but you wanted to change that.
“Oh,” Eddie blushes, the red crawled up his chest, and he felt his ears burning bright red. Thankful for his long hair and the dark theatre.
After the movie, Eddie didn’t let go of your hand until you got to the car; then, when you both were back in the car, he bravely reached over and took your hand in his once more.
Dinner was lovely; he pulled out your chair for you, and he opened up more to you about himself. He was extremely charming and funny, vibrant and animated, and he made you feel alive. Eddie was such a breath of fresh air compared to the men from your past.
By the end of the night, you didn’t want it to end. You drove around for a while before you both decided it was for the best to take you home.
Like the perfect gentleman he had been all night, Eddie walked you up to your door.
“I had a really nice night with you.” You smiled up at him. He made you feel like a teenager again.
“Me too, Sweetheart.”
Your heart soared at the nickname.
Eddie leaned in, hoping and praying he was reading the room correctly. He felt like his insides were going to explode, and he took the risk and kissed you.
Eddie’s hands grabbed your waist and pulled you in closer as you leaned into him. He felt your hands wrap around his neck and bring your bodies closer. His hard frame was pressed against your soft one; he let a soft moan slip as he felt your soft breasts graze his chest and your plush thighs press against his centre.
Eddie quickly pulled away once he felt his cock hardening against your body; the last thing he needs is your thinking he is some perv.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Eddie cupped your face, giving you one quick peck before stepping back and trying to cover his crotch with his jacket.
“Goodnight, Eddie,” you smile, and you look at him like no one has looked at Eddie. It made his knees feel like jello.
“I’ll call you,” he smirked; his confidence had grown since he walked out his front door.
“You better”
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Eddie and you have been dating for two months now. Everything had been going well, everything but your sex life, or lack thereof.
Eddie hadn’t made a move. Nothing went past makeouts and heavy petting, and you were starting to get insecure. Everything else was amazing, but nothing ever led to anything more.
You had tried to initiate sex, but every time you were turned away, even a blow job, Eddie made an excuse for you not to go past kissing.
You were pulling away, and Eddie could sense it. He was absolutely fucking this up, but his inner thoughts were his worst enemy. How could you be with someone as inexperienced and deformed as him? Could he please you? What if he finished in ten seconds? He would be mortified. But all of that felt like nothing if it meant losing you.
Tonight, he would change that. Tonight, he had the whole evening planned. He had the house to himself as Wayne was also out with a lady friend he had met at the town bar. Things were looking up for the Munson men in California.
After your date with Eddie, he invited you over to his place for the first time. His house was beautiful; you wondered how Eddie could afford a place like this? He had already disclosed to you he had purchased it all on his own.
“Are you a part of the mob” you joke as you take in the house.
Eddie chuckled and led you further into his home.
“You want a drink?”
“Yeah, whatever you’re having,” As you make your way over to the large sofa you take a seat and let out a deep sigh as you sink into the comfortable cushions.
The room is quiet, save for the sound of Eddie shuffling around in the kitchen, and you begin to feel a little uneasy in the silence, not knowing what to do to fill the time. Thankfully, Eddie walks in with two beers in his hands, and you can't help but smile at the sight of him.
He hands you a beer and takes a sip of his own before heading over to the stereo to put on some music. As the music starts to fill the room, you begin to feel more at ease.
“So, where is your Uncle?” You ask casually.
“Out for the night, we have the place to ourselves.” He smiles as he sits down beside you.
“Oh, so he is gone the whole night?” You ask, trying not to get your hopes up.
“Yep,” he ended his word with a crisp pop.
“That’s good.” You nod your head. “Sure is a big place to be alone in.”
“Wanna keep me company?” Eddie nuzzled his face into your neck.
“Yes,” you sigh as the beer in your hands has been completely forgotten. Finally, you were going to spend some much-needed alone time with Eddie.
You push back so you can turn your head to kiss Eddie. You turn your body so you can get a better angle. Eddie cups your face pulling you closer, he wanted to feel you, all of you.
You needed to feel him more, too; your pussy was in control; you swung your leg over his lap so you could straddle your man. Your hips started moving on their own. Grinding down onto Eddie’s lap. Eddie hands travels from your face down your back to cup your ass pulling you closer. His cock was already hard; you felt how big he was through his taught jeans. You pull away to slip your hands under his shirt, but Eddie grabs your wrists hastily.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” You ask worried. The grip on your wrists was firm. “I thought you were into this?” You feel like you are folding into yourself.
“I am!” He was quick to correct you.
“Do you not want me in that way?” Your voice was so small.
“No! I mean, yes, I do, I really, really do.” He shakes his head.
“Then why don’t you want to do anything with me?”
“I do, fuck, sweetheart. I really do. It’s all I think about.” He stroked your hair reassuringly.
“Then let me.” You tried unbuttoning Eddie’s jeans, but he stopped you once again. You were fighting back tears of embarrassment. You were throwing yourself at him, and he was rejecting you time and time again.
“Sweetheart, wait, I have to tell you something… well, two things.”
“What it’s it, baby?” Now you were nervous.
“I-shit- I want this to be… be so good for you, but I’m…not really…experienced.” he avoided eye contact, and it finally clicked.
“Eddie, are you a virgin?” Your question with no judgment or malice in your tone.
He slowly nods his head, looking down in his lap.
“Baby, that doesn’t matter to me.” You hook a finger under his jaw to make him look at you.
His wide eyes were sorrowful like he didn’t want to disappoint you.
“Yeah?” He whispers.
“Yeah,” you confirm with a kiss as you lean down into him. Slowly, you started rocking your hips into his lap once again.
“Sweetheart, there is uh-one more thing.” He pulls away; you can already feel his thick cock beneath you.
“If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything.”
“No, no, I-I want to. It’s umm. Shit”
“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” you cooed.
“I kinda have to if I want to sleep with you…”
“Okay, Eddie. Take your time.”
“My uh- scars. They’re everywhere." he gestured to his middle, " And I don’t want you to be grossed out or whatever.” He was bitterly honest with you. All of his walls came tumbling down, and you felt like an ass for not even considering his feelings about the situation.
“Eddie,” you sighed.
“No, I know what I look like, and it’s not normal. I don’t want you to get scared off or worse because I really like you. And god, I wanna have sex with you so bad it’s all I can think about that makes me sound so perverted- but it’s true. I want to be with you so bad.”
You cut him off with a kiss. A deep, sensual kiss that makes Eddie forget his own name.
“Let me take care of you,” you whisper into his lips.
“You don’t have to. I want this to be about you.”
“No baby, you do so much for me. Let me do this for you” You kiss down his jaw to his neck, sucking a dark purple mark until you’re satisfied and Eddie is withering underneath you, trying to get any sense of friction.
Your hands explored his waist above his shirt, feeling his body. It was bumpy, and there were ridges where you were not used to, but it didn’t deter you from wanting to be with him.
You could feel his body stiffen when your fingers traced over his scars.
“Is there any place you don’t want me touching?” You whispered.
“No, no, touch me- please.” his chest moved up and down with his heavy breaths.
Eddie’s body felt like it was on fire. No one has ever felt him in this way. He needed more but didn’t want to press you. So he let you take your time.
Your hands once again tried to break past the barrier of his shirt. This time, he let you as your warm fingertips worked their way up his tummy, feeling his skin beneath you.
“Can I take this off?” You ask.
Eddie nodded his head frantically; he trusted you and wanted nothing more than to keep going.
He sat up a bit, letting you shuffle the soft cotton over his head.
Your gaze didn’t break from his body. It was so beautifully mangled you could see he had skin grafting scars all across his chest and sides.
“I get it if you’re not attracted to me.”
“Hey,” you grab his head in both hands, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never wanted to be with anyone more than I want to be with you right now.” You take a hand off his face to grab his hand and guide it to your soaked panties.
Eddie’s eyes widen with surprise as he feels your pooled slick in your panties.
“Holy shit,” Eddie gasped.
“I want you, Eddie. I want you so bad. I want to make you feel good.” You grind yourself on his hand before you slink off his lap and onto your knees in front of him.
You were about to give him the best blowjob imaginable. You didn’t know what Eddie went through, but you knew he was one of the most genuine guys you’ve ever met, and he deserved this moment.
You were quick to unbuckle his belt and pants before guiding your hand up his still-covered cock. Your fingers are hooked under the elastic waistband of his boxers, and his pulsing cock sprang free.
Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you… you knew he would be big, but you weren’t expecting him to be that big. How has he been hiding this from you all this time?
“What? What's wrong?”
“Eddie, you’re huge,” your mouth hung agape. In front of you is a cock at least eight inches long and thick, with a slight curve to the left.
“What? No.”
“You’re joking?” You laugh.
Eddie looks at you with a blank stare. Maybe laughing while his cock was out wasn’t the best idea.
“Eddie, I’m serious,” you take his length in your hand. “This is the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” It felt heavy in your hand.
"Really?"
"Really, I don't think it's going to fit?" You chuckle, a little worried.
"Can- can we at least try?" Eddie stutters.
"Don't worry, baby, I always like a challenge."
You didn't let Eddie respond before your mouth was enveloping the tip of his cock. You swirled your tongue around the head before taking as much as possible without triggering your gag reflex.
"Holy shit" Eddie instinctively grabbed your hair as you lowered your head down the shaft. His face scrunched up in pleasure.
"You like that baby?" You ask, popping up for air, your hand replacing your mouth.
"Yes," he sucked in a sharp breath as your hand applied the perfect amount of pressure to his cock.
"I can't believe you've been holding this secret from me for so long, naughty boy." You smirked before taking him back in your mouth.
" I-I-didn't-fuck! Didn't know?" Fuck why had Eddie been holding off on this feeling? This wonderful feeling of your beautiful mouth surrounding his length.
You worked your head up and down his head before Eddie pulled you off unexpectedly.
" I'm gonna come if you keep doing that."
"That's the point, baby." You smiled.
"But I wanna have sex," He rushes out.
"Okay." You smile, and you both stand up, taking his hand in yours. "Wanna show me your bedroom?"
Eddie frantically nods his head yes before he pulls you up the stairs to the bedroom. You giggle behind him as he runs up the stairs, trying not to trip as his pants and boxers are wrapped around his ankles.
He rushes the both of you over to his bed, and he lays you down before him before you can take off your clothes.
"Tell me what you want," you coo, tucking a piece of hair behind Eddie's ear as he hovers over you.
"You, I want you so bad," he whines between kisses.
"Good boy," you smile, and Eddie swears his heart stops beating.
"How do you want me?" you ask as Eddie's hands explore every inch of your still-clothed body.
"Naked." He kissed the exposed skin of your neck.
"Mmmm, good boy, tell me what you want," you say as Eddie's mouth finds your sweet spot.
You hear Eddie whimper at your praise, so you decide to keep pushing. In a moment of intense emotion, something inside him breaks. A deep longing takes hold of him, compelling him to be nothing but a perfect and devoted man for you. The thought of being your good boy fills him with an unfamiliar sense of need, one that he has never encountered before.
"You like it when I call you that, baby?"
Eddie mumbles an answer into your neck.
"What was that? I couldn’t hear you."
"Yes, please, I want to be your good boy." He rutted his bare cock against your wet panty-covered core, and it sent a wave of pleasure through you.
"Oh, Eddie," You moan. "help me take off my clothes," You ask sweetly.
Eddie waisted not another second before your shirt was over your head and your skirt ripped off of your hips. You managed your bra while Eddie did the honours of revealing your swollen wet pussy.
"How do you want me?" you ask as your fingers trace your pussy lips before opening your legs wide for Eddie to see you play with your pussy.
"I've died and gone to heaven." Eddie's eyes were wide as he took in your body.
"I want you to feel me, baby." you reach out for Eddie's hand and guide it back to your pussy like you had downstairs. You slowly guided his thick fingers through your folds, collecting your slick before you showed him where your tight hole was.
“Holy shit” Eddie couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you like this.
"It's okay, you can go in" You rocked your hips into Eddies and hoping his fingers would breach your cunt.
"Oh my god," You say in unison as his long, thick finger stretches you out ever so slightly.
"You're so tight." Eddie slowly tests the waters as he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy.
"mmmm, think about how good it's going to feel when my tight little pussy is wrapped around your big, thick cock"
Eddie's brain short-circuited, his hand stopped moving, and you let out a giggle when you realized you had broken his brain.
"Can I?"
"Just a little bit more warming up, baby. You're just so big I need to get ready for you." You bat your lashes at him.
"fuck you can't say things like that to me."
"Why you don't like it?" You tease.
"Quite the opposite, sweetheart."
"You wanna know a secret to a woman's pleasure?"
"Yes"
"You gotta pay a lot of attention to right here" You guide his hand to your swollen clit. You let out a moan when his fingers make contact with your bundle of nerves.
You show him how to circle it, and Eddie couldn't believe the sight below him. He was giving you pleasure. He could tell by your blissed-out face he was doing a good job; he was being your good boy.
"Fuck I need you now," you moan, feeling your orgasm build.
"I have condoms," Eddie blurts out.
"Good, go get one," you breathe heavy with lust. Eddie hops off the bed, almost tripping over his pants that were still wrapped around his ankles, making you giggle.
You watched as he reached his nightstand opening the drawer. Your pussy was throbbing, and you couldn’t take your eyes off how his shoulder blade jutted out, and his back muscles rippled and dipped through the large scar that covered most of his left side. Your eyes travelled down, and the perfect view of his perky ass was right there for the taking. So you can’t help yourself as you reach out and swat at it playfully, making Eddie jump.
“You’re a little minx.” he turns quickly, wrapped condom in hand.
Eddie quickly crawls back into the bed before unwrapping and rolling the condom down his throbbing length. Then he froze, not knowing what to do next?
“How do you want me, Eddie baby?” You playfully twirl a piece of his unruly hair around your finger.
“Can-can you be on top to start?”
“Layback for me.” You un-twirl your finger from his hair and gently push his shoulders back so he can get comfortable.
His cock lay flat against his stomach, passing where his belly button should have been.
Slowly, you wrap your legs around his body, aligning your centre with his. You take his girth in your delicate hand and guide his cock to your wanton hole. You glide his tip through your pussy lips a few times, teasing and collecting your slick before slowly sinking your way down. You let out a shaking breath as he splits you in half.
It took everything within Eddie to not rut his hips up into you; his knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets beneath him, trying to do everything not to plant his feel so he could to hold back.
He’d never felt anything so heavenly. You were so fucking tight around him. He couldn’t believe how amazing this felt. Your pussy was his own personal paradise, and he was never leaving.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck-“ you stuttered as your pussy adjusted to his size. The burn was long but so good, you wanted more of him.
Eddie watched as your pinched-up face relaxed, changing quickly from uncomfortable to pure pleasure when you reached the hilt.
“Holy shit,” Eddie swore he could have come right then and there if he wanted it. But he didn’t want it, not yet. God, he be damned if he didn’t make this moment last forever.
“You like the way my pussy is wrapped around your fat cock, big boy?” You start to rock your hips slowly, teasing the man who is falling apart beneath you.
Usually, you were always the one in his position, but you felt a power you’d never experienced. You wanted to be in control tonight; you wanted to make this so good for Eddie, your sweet Eddie with a monster cock.
Eddie jerked his hips up, and your pussy clenched. “Oh fuck!” Eddie cried as your muscles contracted around him. This was it; nothing could ever be better than this right now.
“You feel that honey? How tight my wet warm pussy is for you?” You start to bounce, and Eddie, stood, corrected.
He tried to hold on as your tits started bouncing in his face as you worked yourself up and down on his cock.
“Touch me,” you panted.
Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. His hands snapped up to your hips gripping you tightly before he ran them up to your swollen breasts.
You throw your head back as Eddie pinches your nipples, exposing your neck. Eddie acts on instinct, wanting to ravage you, he sits up and latches his mouth onto your exposed neck, then down your chest to your perked nipples.
“Oh baby,” you cry at the sudden movement beneath you. The new angel only sank his cock deeper into your cunt. He was filling you so good, you’ve never felt this full.
“Can I - can we switch?” Eddie can’t take it he needs to fuck you, like really fuck you.
“Yes,” you were completely fucked out.
You let out a squeak as Eddie man handles you to be underneath him. He wastes no time pounding back into you the second your back hits the mattress. His sting hands are gripping your hips so hard you’re sure there will be finger shaped bruises. He nearly took your breath away as his hips snapped into your dripping pussy, your walls pulsed around him as his cock grazed that sweet spot that is deep, deep inside.
“OH EDDIE” you scream, eyes rolling back into your head.
It was music to Eddie’s ears. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He needed you to finish. He suddenly remembered the advice you gave him minutes before. His hand grazed down your body to your clit.
His touch sent a zap of pleasure through your core, only making your pussy tighten even more. His fingers worked your pussy slowly, a contrast from how fast he was thrusting into you.
Moans of ecstasy escaped your throat as your brain shut off. You were no longer in control; it was all Eddie.
“Baby, you still with me?” He coos in your ear.
“Fuck Eddie, don’t stop! I’m going to cum!” You wrap your legs around Eddie to pull him closer to you, not that it was possible. You wanted him buried inside of you forever.
“Come on, baby, come for me.”
You broke at his words. Your orgasm ripped through you as he worked his cock through your tight grip. Eddie broke as soon as you did no way he could hold on any longer.
A loud roar rips out of his chest as his seed spurts out of him into the condom that is buried deep inside of you.
“Fuck me, you sure that was your first time?” You giggle, still totally fucked out.
“Yep, guess you can say I’m a natural sex god.” his ego was definitely boosted.
“Mmmhmmmmm,” you nod in agreement. Rolling over to wrap a bare leg around his body.
Eddie couldn’t believe his life could be this sweet. He wrapped his arms around you and fell asleep with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
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msgexymunson · 2 months
Text
Highest Bidder
Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him? 
Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl) 
A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day. 
Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know. 
7k words
Masterlist
“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview. 
The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same. 
The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.
Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.
It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you. 
So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing. 
You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie. 
Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked. 
What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities. 
“Hey sweetheart, am I late?” 
When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.
“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.” 
He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face. 
“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.” 
Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged. 
‘It's nothing, just a dress.” 
“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”
His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back. 
“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?” 
After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start. 
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!” 
The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.  
“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”
After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience. 
“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!” 
As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.
No. Your friend. Just a friend. 
“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?” 
“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him. 
“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?” 
“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh. 
“Fifty dollars!” 
The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air. 
“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?” 
Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward. 
“One hundred dollars!” 
Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham. 
She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten. 
But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels. 
You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face. 
“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?” 
The man at the back called out, “right here!” 
Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid. 
“One thirty!” 
It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.  
“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy. 
The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him. 
He's yours. 
Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here. 
It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer. 
At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand. 
“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!” 
Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering. 
“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”
He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you. 
“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin. 
“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes. 
“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?” 
He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie. 
“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.” 
Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him. 
“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?” 
“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?” 
Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down. 
“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?” 
Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”
He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual. 
You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her. 
“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.” 
She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.” 
Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone. 
“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.” 
He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.
“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-” 
You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared. 
“-nevermind. Thank you.” 
As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. 
“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?” 
As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind. 
“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back. 
“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.” 
You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg. 
“Woof! Woo-” 
“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you. 
As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table. 
“What are you doing?” 
Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie. 
“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?” 
As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.  
“This isn't a date, Eds.” 
Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks. 
“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest. 
As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes. 
“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?” 
A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise. 
“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation. 
“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.” 
“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck. 
“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.” 
As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes. 
“Eddie?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Let's get out of here.” 
You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences. 
Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye. 
“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.” 
Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours. 
“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?” 
His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings. 
“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”
Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee. 
“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again. 
“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?” 
Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.
“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.” 
He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine. 
“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.” 
You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety. 
“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.” 
“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession. 
“Absolutely not.” 
“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”
“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?” 
You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain. 
“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”
“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.” 
“What else would I do?” 
He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-” 
“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.” 
“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.” 
Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts. 
“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?” 
“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.” 
Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee. 
“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind. 
“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.” 
“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.” 
“I dated Wendy to get over you!” 
Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means. 
“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. 
“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?” 
It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut. 
It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side. 
Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally  charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back. 
So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips. 
“I'm in love with you.” 
It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly. 
“Huh?” 
“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”
You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.
“Eddie, you lied.” 
“What? I'm telling the truth I-”
“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.” 
Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge. 
The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth. 
“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.” 
There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss. 
Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for- 
“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.” 
You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life. 
The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin. 
“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.” 
A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor. 
“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms. 
A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face. 
“You are so beautiful.” 
Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away. 
“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned. 
“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.” 
Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second. 
“Can we go to my bedroom?” 
Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart. 
“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties. 
“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back. 
The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso. 
Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are. 
“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?” 
He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.” 
The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least. 
“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.” 
“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.” 
You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away. 
“Do I need to put a towel down?” 
“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him. 
“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.” 
He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face. 
“You want me to stay?” 
“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.” 
The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything. 
“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form. 
“Hmm?”
“Get the towel.” 
Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns. 
“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.
“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact. 
“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck. 
“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot. 
Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple. 
“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.” 
You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there. 
As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten. 
“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment. 
“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?” 
“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy. 
“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.” 
“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh. 
“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?” 
Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard. 
“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch. 
He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring. 
Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling. 
“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”
Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot. 
“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!” 
He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to?  You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if- 
“Hey, sweetheart, you here?” 
He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question. 
“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-” 
“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”
“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-” 
“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.” 
His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you. 
“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”
“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.” 
Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips. 
“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.” 
Sweet. You sound sweet. 
In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment. 
There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion. 
“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!” 
He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.
It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair. 
He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed. 
The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down. 
“Now are you glad I said about the towel?” 
Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you. 
Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.
“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.” 
Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear. 
“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused. 
“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.” 
“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.” 
The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him. 
It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again. 
“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??” 
“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.” 
He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk. 
“Now that's not fair sweetheart.” 
You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince. 
“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut. 
“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.” 
“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-” 
He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes. 
Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction. 
“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?” 
Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire. 
“I-I'll try.”
“That's it, atta girl, little more.” 
Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in. 
“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!” 
“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”  
A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks. 
“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.” 
Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.
“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.” 
Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving. 
“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head. 
“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?” 
Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again. 
“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.” 
Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet. 
“Eddie, I lo-” 
“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?” 
You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him. 
“Oh my God, baby, oh God!” 
You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem. 
“Right there princess?” 
Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan. 
“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.” 
Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back. 
“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily. 
“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts. 
It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire. 
“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.” 
Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse. 
Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness. 
“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.” 
He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye. 
“Eddie, that was perfect.” 
He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time. 
“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”
Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling. 
“OK, now I'm really gonna go.” 
You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind. 
“Right, now, just hang on.” 
With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat. 
“I can change the sheets if you want-” 
“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.” 
Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief. 
“Eddie? Can I say it now?” 
You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening. 
“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.” 
“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.” 
The smile in his voice makes you smile too.
“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."
Taglist
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes
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dollfacefantasy · 4 months
Text
Some Extra Lessons
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pairing: professor!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: professor kennedy’s got it bad for one of his students. little does he know, you feel the same way for him.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, thigh riding, fingering, edging, age gap (36/college aged), teacher/student, daddy kink, sir kink, praise/degradation
word count: 7k
a/n: hey everybody. hope everyone had nice holidays if you celebrate them. and happy new year! i'm not sure how i feel about this one but eh. i got things cooking so stay tuned 🫵. as always, thank you for your comments and reblogs. smooches <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus
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Mondays and Wednesdays. Those are fast becoming Leon’s two favorite days of the week. For most people, they’re probably the worst days. The first day back to work, and the other right in the middle of the week; when they’ve already had enough but it feels like the weekend is still years away. But not for Leon. Not anymore. Those days are now sacred to him because they are the days he gets to see you.
You’re his favorite student this semester by far, no one else even comes close. He noticed you early on in the beginning weeks, quiet but attentive. You would sit off to the side by yourself, always taking notes or scanning what was on the board.
It made him feel like such a perv when he first noticed his own lingering gazes and heart palpitations when you walked in the room. He tried to justify it. It wasn’t everyday he had someone like you sitting a few rows away from him, hanging on every word he said.
He’s only human, he tried reasoning. He couldn’t help but always notice the cute little outfits you wore to class, teasing just enough of your body to keep him ogling you for more. You did your hair in pretty styles and coated your pouty lips in shimmery gloss. He had to force his eyes to move around the room to other students when he spoke. His natural instinct was to keep them locked on you while his head filled with images of his hands squeezing those cute tits or his cock sliding between your shiny lips.
Despite those fantasies, he left you alone. It was wrong, inappropriate, he told himself. He shouldn’t be lusting after his student, let alone pursuing her. You were just a sweet girl trying to get an education. He couldn’t let his perversions interfere with that.
But as the weeks passed and more classes went by, he got to know you. You seemed pretty shy but not insecure. In class, you’d do your work alone, but if there was ever a lull in his lecture, you’d raise your hand to offer an answer, help him out a little. That was how he had bridged the gap between you two even though he hadn’t meant it as anything more than what it was.
He had just dismissed everyone, making a corny joke about the poor grades he’d given so far on an essay that had been due. A small smile graced your lips. Sure, the joke wasn’t that funny, but you had a fat crush on Mr. Kennedy so everything he said was a little funny.
You were scrawling down a few remaining notes before you would leave for the day when you heard his voice call your name. Immediately, your head tilted up to look at him. He beckoned you over with a wave of his hand. You were still wondering what this could be about as your hands slid your notebook into your backpack and your feet carried you towards him.
“Yes, Mr. Kennedy?” you say softly when you approach his desk. You rest your palms on the edge of the table as you await the reason behind this encounter.
“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for your participation. You know, I appreciate that, and I know it’s not fair to you to have that expected of you when you didn’t sign up for it,” he begins.
“Oh, it’s no problem, sir. I really don’t mind,” you say, smiling at him.
“Sir? So polite,” he jokes with a smile of his own. The remark had come out before he could stop himself with a mental scolding about being normal with you.
Your cheeks burn, and you glance down at your shoes timidly. Your heartbeat was already faster than normal just from having his eyes focused on you alone. With him teasing you, it felt like your chest was going to explode.
This was the closest you’d ever been to him, the most you’d ever spoken to one another. Up close it was even more apparent how handsome he was. He didn’t look like any other professors you had. His blonde hair fell into his face and partially obscured one of his eyes. His shirt was undone a button lower than was probably professional.
“And I wanted to tell you that I got your email about your late assignment,” he says. He could see your embarrassment. He would have felt more guilt about causing it if you didn’t look so precious like that. He pushes those thoughts away though as you look up again, anxiety in your eyes. 
“Oh yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I promise you that it’s a one time thing. I don’t normally have that problem, and I just wanted you to know that. Didn’t want you to get the wrong impression,” you say.
He cuts off your apology with a chuckle and places his hand over yours, covering your manicured nails with the rough skin of his palm. 
“It’s alright, honey,” he says, “I can tell you’re a good girl. I don’t mind giving you a break.”
Good girl. You shift in place upon hearing those two words. It’s like a small match ignites in your belly, inching closer to the larger fuse.
So naive. So well-intentioned. That’s what he saw looking at you in that moment. He could almost see into you, see your mind trying to figure out a response, to discern if he was purposely flirting or clueless like you.
Your eyes cast down, and a shy smile breaks out on your face. After wrapping up the conversation and finishing with a soft murmur of “Thank you Mr. Kennedy,” you practically skip out of the room. A swirl of almost every good emotion you’ve ever felt blooms in your chest because of his attention.
He smirks, watching that sweet ass sway back and forth as you bound up the steps to the door. How you seem to walk with your shoulders back and chest out after the small praise he gave you. God, he was practically drooling. He imagined himself looking like a cartoon character, silhouettes of hearts in his eyes and his tongue rolled out of his mouth.
But no, this was wrong. Point blank, it’s that simple. Or at least it should be.
After that day, he relented a little. He decided that some slight teasing was harmless. But he swore it would be just that, nothing further. That small voice in his head tried to defend it. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy the attention. You’d blush and fidget in your seat when he shot you an amorous look. Or you’d smile and flit your eyes away as he’d tuck some hair behind your ear when he’d come over to your desk after class to ask if you understood everything.
And as he weakened, your infatuation intensified. These classes became the highlights of your week. You’d fantasize about the pet name he’d call you on Monday or how his eyes would roam over your body on Wednesday. Walking to class, ringing through your head was simply Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy. While you traveled home, he danced through your mind to your thoughts about him that sounded like a love song.
Even with the huge torch you carried for him, you could never work up the nerve to make the big move. Every time you’d imagine sitting in his lap, your lips moving with his, all you could think about was what if it was all in your head? All those little looks and sweet words just blown out of proportion in your mind. Could you handle baring your soul to him if he reacted with anything other than reciprocation?
These questions bothered you as the semester went on, but nothing really changed. Leon was the same way, of course, all while you were unaware. He could only imagine how freaked out you would be if he made any attempt on you.
Lately, the two of you had been spending more time together. You were staying after class more to get “additional help.” Lingering around his desk, you’d timidly started approaching him, and he was happy to give you the aide.
Today, he dismisses everyone else before waving you over with a smug smile. You grab your things and scamper down to his desk with your own happy expression. You slide into the chair he pulled next to his seat. You open your laptop and start showing him the things you didn’t understand. In reality, you understood just fine, but for the sake of being around him, you’d bite your lip and look up at him through your lashes as if you’d missed entire classes worth of information.
“I just have trouble with memorization. I get confused between the words and their definitions,” you explain.
“Oh alright,” he responds softly, eyes scanning over the screen and then finding your face, “There’s a couple of things I think could help. Acronyms, stuff like that.”
He starts explaining the strategy to you, but like always, you have to fight a mental war to stay focused. You nod along, trying your best to act attentive. It was so hard though because… he’s him. 
You scoot your chair a little closer to his to get a better view of the laptop and notice his breath hitch. Your body freezes, but instead of feeling that familiar fear of rejection come over you, confidence begins simmering inside your chest. The change in his breathing meant something, he was reacting to this too. Maybe you could do this after all.
For now, you try to act natural, moving along the conversation with another question.
“Is there anything else though? Because I struggle to attach the definitions too, not just remember the words,” you say, leaning in a little more.
He turns his head to look at you completely, eyes locked on yours. You felt like you were losing your footing a little staring into them. “Mhm. I can show you how to link the two. Break down the word to get the meanings of the parts and…” he continues on as you zone out.
His voice was huskier now, and that simmer of confidence continues to build within you. You keep nodding with every pause in his speech, your doe eyes looking up at him.
“That makes sense,” you say when he finishes, still unable to look away. Your heart pounds as you make a decision. You place your hand on his thigh. You try to act natural, as if it’s just a casual gesture of affirmation. But you can see in his eyes that he knows better.
“Yeah? Do you need help with anything else then?” he asks slowly, watching your face for reactions.
“I think so,” you say as your voice grows a little breathier.
“What is it?” he asks. He leans in a little more and you can feel his hot breath fanning over you.
“I have some more questions…” you say.
“About?” he says, eyes dropping to your lips for a moment.
Head tilting down, your foot moves over to lightly brush up against his leg. You bite your lip, looking the most timid he’d ever seen you, which was saying a lot. But you force yourself to keep going while you have this burst of hope.
“Some special tutoring…” you offer.
“Special tutoring?” he repeats with a raise of his eyebrow, looking down at your foot rubbing at his ankle. He hesitates but decides to then take your hand and stand up. “If we’re discussing something like that, we should probably go to my personal office. Wouldn’t want us to get interrupted by the next class in here.”
“Oh yeah,” you immediately agree. You grab your stuff and your fingers link with his as he leads you out of the classroom, down the hall to his office. Passing bulletin boards of flyers and other students heading to their next class, you realize it probably looks a little odd to be holding his hand, letting him guide you around. But it just turned you on more, feeling dependent, controlled.
After a while, you reach the door with the stick-on placard reading “Leon Kennedy.” Your heart pounds as you shuffle through the entrance. The office was a decent size, having a desk, some book shelves, and a small loveseat in the back corner of the room.
He slides past you and walks behind his desk, taking a seat in his chair that was clearly much more comfortable than the generic one in the lecture room. It dawned on you though that that was the only other chair in the room. There was the couch, but that was too far away from the desk for your purposes.
You approach the desk, similar to how you did all those weeks ago when this first started. He looks up at you with hesitant desire in his eyes.
“Why don’t you c’mere?” he asks.
“Ok,” you respond shyly. You drop your stuff near his desk and pad around it to approach him. Standing between his muscular thighs, you almost can’t focus from the volume of your pulse in your ears. His eyes look you up and down, more overtly than they ever had in the past. It now felt like you were hurtling towards a collision without a possibility of stopping.
After a moment of silence, he rips you from your thoughts. “Go ahead and ask your questions,” he says.
“Oh yeah,” you say, perking up a little since you had nearly forgotten about your facade of innocent curiosity. “I was just wondering if I could maybe start getting some… extra help.”
He chuckles and leans back in his chair. The maneuver gives you a better view of his broad chest and sculpturesque arms. You feel even more flustered, and you know it’s about to get worse because he obviously picks up on it.
“I don’t really think you need extra help quite honestly. Your grade is fine, and you seem to understand a lot, even the tedious things you ask questions about,” he says, a subtle arrogance on his face as he drags this out.
“No, I really think I do,” you say softly, shifting back and forth in place.
His eyes look up at you with a knowing glint. He shakes his head with a smirk as his gaze falls down to your legs that couldn’t stand still.
“With what? Like I said, even those things you pretend to not know, you obviously do. You ace every test, and while I’d like to believe it, I don’t think my advice is that helpful.”
As the words left his mouth, Leon knew he was getting into dangerous territory, leading you to a place neither of you could just return from. The rational part of his mind was slamming on his mental brakes to no avail.
You were in a similar place, your mind racing and trying to decide whether to go for it or not. After a quick moment, it was as if a bright neon sign flashes in your mind. The words telling you to try. You decide on moving forward and ignoring the other part of you that’s telling you to turn around and walk out the door right now.
You sit on his lap, straddling him with each of your legs on either side of his thigh. You look down as your fingertips drag along the waistline of his pants. 
“I just think there are other things I could learn from you,” you say, your voice shaking from your nerves.
“Tell me what they are,” he breathes. His own heart slams against his ribcage at your gesture. His natural instincts scream at him to pull you close and take what he wants, making his fantasies reality.
“It’s easier for me to show you,” you say. You felt if you had to speak anymore you might lose your nerve, so you go all in. You lean forward and connect your lips. With feather light kisses, you move your mouth on his.
At first, he doesn’t kiss back, and fear zaps through you. After a moment of shock though, he reciprocates. Your hands slide up his chest while he grabs your hips to pull you closer. The two of you go at it a little longer with soft smooches. Then he feels your tongue swipe against his bottom lip.
He pulls back and looks at you. He couldn’t do this. But God, just look at you. Your chest heaving with your heavier breathing, those plush lips wet with saliva, pretty eyes looking at him like a pleading puppy. He groans and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. His head falls back against his chair.
“Sweetheart… we shouldn’t do this,” he says, not looking at you to try and keep his resolve.
You bite your lip as your eyes widen with anxiety. “Did I do something wrong?” you say, shaky voice returning.
You try to keep it together. He still wasn’t looking at you, but you silently vow to yourself that you wouldn’t cry from the rejection. There would truly be no coming back from that. It would be hard enough seeing him on Monday as it was. If you shed any tears, you’d have to drop the class regardless of how close the end of the semester was.
“No, honey. I did. I just… it’s wrong,” he offers weakly, not convinced of his own excuse, “I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I’m sorry.”
Despite your internal promise, you felt barbs scraping at your throat with each swallow. Hot, stinging tears pricking at your eyes. You try to push it all back down, spare yourself some dignity.
“But- But don’t you-” you start, cutting yourself off to maintain your composure. You take a deep breath before finishing. “Don’t you like me?”
Leon cracks his eyes open and looks down at you. A critical error. He felt like such a dick. There you were, still on his lap, lip quivering, eyes lined with tears and full of uncertainty. He managed to make this into what he wanted to avoid, a complete mess.
“No- I mean yes, I like you a lot. That isn’t the issue here. We- I… we just can’t do this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long,” he sighs, hands falling to your hips to move you off his lap.
Now, tears were really threatening to fall. You grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself and stop him from lifting you up. Your mind scrambles for an argument that could work.
“Why?” is all you can manage. As if you didn’t know.
“Baby, I’m your teacher. It wouldn’t be right,” he says, forcing himself to remain unaffected by the kicked puppy look you had going on, “I have to stay objective, and that’s hard enough with a cute little thing like yourself.” He smirks at the end of his statement and rubs your cheek, trying to lighten the mood.
It doesn’t work, your eyes are fixated on his belt buckle as a part of the strategy to keep your tears from leaking out. You subconsciously lean into his hand on your face though, a gesture that makes his heart melt. You just nod faintly. Think, think, think, think, you tell yourself. 
“But it won’t be like you’re cheating for me. I get good grades. It’s not like I’m fucking you to pass…” you reason.
“I know that, sweetheart, and you know that. But you have to understand. Think about it. What if people found out? I’d be risking my job, and I can’t imagine it would go well for you either,” he says softly, stroking some of your hair behind your ear.
“No one will find out,” you say. Your head tilts up so you can look into his eyes.
He immediately looks away, afraid he would cave if he stared into those sweet spheres of desire. You catch this, realizing it may be your way ahead.
“You’re a sweet girl, honey. Pretty and smart. The kind any man would be lucky to have. If this was a different situation, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. But it’s not,” he says, looking pained.
You push your lip out a little more and let one tear fall from each eye before quickly wiping them away,  smearing the warm liquid across your cheek. Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around him and press yourself to his chest. You look up at him, forcing him to make eye contact.
“I don’t want any man though,” you say quietly. You keep your stare locked on him, your eyes big and vulnerable to accentuate your point. “Please, sir.”
His cock jumps at the title leaving your lips. He sucks in a breath and tilts his head back. “Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says with a hushed groan.
You scoot forward a little bit, your hips grinding down on his lap with the motion. Your nose drags against his throat as you nuzzle his neck. You lay a kiss to his pulse point before murmuring, “Just a few more kisses? Then I won’t bring any of it up again. Pretty please.”
“Kisses…” he trails off, pondering the idea. Just a few more kisses. An obvious lie. But one he would at least pretend to believe just so he could have those sweet lips on his again. “Fine, but that’s it. You understand?”
“Mhm,” you respond without thinking. You lean up and kiss him. It’s not soft or gentle like the first time. This go is passionate from the beginning. Lips move together, and again, your tongue works to gain entry to his mouth.
The two of you make out for definitely more than a few kisses. Your hand slides up from his shoulder to the base of his neck, lightly tugging on his hair. He groans and squeezes your waist. You gasp between kisses at the sensation and grind your hips down again in response.
He grunts as he feels it, his cock getting a little stiff at the feeling. You do it again with a whimper. This time his fingers dig into your flesh, holding you with more authority.
“Be good, only a few more kisses, remember?” he grunts against your lips.
Continuing to kiss, you take a break from moving your hips and push your body against his again. Your soft tits push up against his chest. He tries to draw back, feeling cracks in his resolve as the warm globes meld with him. The backing of his chair stops him from getting too far away though. He grunts and his grip gets more firm, trying to keep you in a suitable position.
“Stay still. Think I’m giving you more than you asked for anyway. Don’t make me cut it off here,” he mumbles before going back in.
It was risky, but you felt like you had him. You felt him half hard between your legs and could feel his breath coming out in longer puffs. You do it again, rolling your hips on him, dragging your cunt over his bulge through the layers of clothing that separated you.
He growls and nips at your lip before harshly lifting your hips off his lap. You’re hovering above the growing tent in his jeans. You lightly rock them a few times with a pout, testing to see if you can get any kind of friction.
“What did I say?” he asks.
“It’s not fair, sir,” you whimper, ignoring his question.
“Oh, it’s not?” he says, maintaining his stern demeanor, “What’s so unfair?”
“Leading me on,” you huff.
Mix a bit of truth in with your seductive game, and you have him now. Real guilt and frustration swirls with the lust in the pit of his belly. He was all in now. There was no way you were leaving this office without his cum leaking from you.
“I told you what you were getting. You thought you could get away with being greedy,” he chides. He lifts you even more and puts you on your feet in front of him, between his thighs again. “Take your pants off.”
Your eyes widen. This was going to happen. Your fingers make quick work of your jeans, snapping the button and dropping them to pool around your ankles. You step out of them and nudge them to the side. He smirks up at you, standing there in your tight t-shirt and frilly pink panties. Of course, everything about you was cute.
His hands return to your hips and pull you on top of him. This time you aren’t on his lap though. You land on his thigh. You look down at the limb beneath you and then back at his face.
“Don’t play dumb now. You wanna rub that needy pussy on something, go ahead,” he says.
“But-“ you start before he cuts you off with a sharp smack on the ass.
“I don’t want to hear any complaining. You should count yourself lucky I’m letting you even do this,” he says as his hand rubs and kneads the cheek he just slapped, “Normally, I wouldn’t accept my little girl just doing whatever she wants like that. But because it’s your first time, I’m giving you a break. Gonna help fix this problem you’re having, thinking from between your legs instead of with that pretty little head.”
Your entire face heats up as he lays into you like that. You start rocking your hips, dragging yourself on his clothes thigh. You watch his face for approval as you go, but his eyes are transfixed on your lower body at the moment.
“There you go, baby. That’s right,” he says encouragingly before cracking you on the ass again, “Little faster. Wanna see how bad you’ve been wanting this.”
You do as he says, rolling your hips with more speed and force. The fabric of your panties begins to dampen with your arousal as you press onto it. Whimpers fall from your lips as you grind your swollen pussy on his muscle. He gives you some help, guiding your movements by holding your hips. You softly gasp a few times, biting your lip as you continue to rut against him.
“Look at you,” he coos. Your tits bounce beneath your t-shirt as you ride his thigh. “Been thinking about this a lot, sweetheart? Dream about this while you’re sitting in class, hm? Humping my leg like a dumb little puppy.”
“Yes,” you choke out and toss your head back. A guttural moan leaves you, and he chuckles, giving your hip a tighter squeeze.
“Quiet, babydoll. Don’t want anyone outside this room hearing. I don’t think they’d believe this is just some ‘special tutoring,’” he says.
You keep up your grinding, your pussy sensitive to the rough fabric of his pants even through your panties. He tries to help you quiet down by pulling you closer and cradling your head against his shoulder, muffling your sounds against his shirt. The cloth becomes wet with your spit as your hushed moans spill out.
After going for a little while longer, he can tell you’re getting close. It’s obvious in the way your hips sputter every couple of thrusts, how your voice is getting whinier, how your body contracts every few moments. Your hands curl into fists, clutching the fabric of his shirt.
“Such a good girl,” he whispers, “Getting close, baby? Think you’re gonna cum soon?”
“Yes, sir,” you whimper.
“Aw, so polite,” he teases just like he had those weeks ago, “Well, tell me when you’re right there. Gonna make it extra special.”
You nod obediently and continue working yourself to the high point. Your breaths become sharper and movements get more erratic. You feel the band of pleasure stretching inside you, ready to snap.
“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, “ you ramble out.
“Not yet, you aren’t,” he says. 
With a menacing grin, he yanks your hips up and flips you around. Mind spinning from the sudden loss of pleasure, you whine and squirm on his lap. A pointless struggle seeing how your soaked panties were faced out away from any potential source of friction. Your back’s flush against the warmth of his chest. You can feel his heartbeat thudding behind you as his hands curl around the back of your legs and bring them up so that your feet are planted on his thighs. Your head slumps back against his shoulder, turning to look up at him, pleading frustration projecting from your eyes.
One of his arms snakes around your waist while the other comes up to stroke your chin with his thumb. He looks down at you, eyes full of amusement as he toys with you.
“Now that was really unfair, wasn’t it pretty girl?” he taunts.
You arch your back off his chest with another whine before collapsing against his broad form again. You nod, feeling the sparks of ecstasy dwindle within you.
“You’re a tease,” you huff.
“I am?” he mocks. 
He begins trailing his hand down your front, stopping level with your breasts. He squeezes them gently with some firm caresses from his fingers. Then he lowers his hand further and slips it beneath your shirt. Your breath hitches as he begins stroking the soft skin of your belly up to the valley between your breasts. His palm slides beneath the cups of your bra, feeling the bare skin of your chest. He alternates between each. The rough pads of his fingertips drag over the sensitive flesh of your nipples, giving them tender pinches that draw hushed mewls from you.
“So soft, baby,” he whispers with a kiss to your temple.
It felt nice, made your breasts feel heavy and achy, begging to be touched. Had your head hot and airy, unable to control the way you melted against him or the sweet noises that escaped you. But you couldn’t really enjoy that because your pussy was still throbbing, still desperately searching for the orgasm that was stolen from you. You squirm again, pushing your ass back against the bulge you felt growing in his pants.
“Please, sir. Please,” you whimper, “Wanna cum.”
You feel his lips curl into a smile against the side of your head, but his tone remains rough and commanding. “I think the next thing I gotta teach you is patience.”
Retracting his hand from your bra, he smooths it back down your stomach to the hem of your panties. His fingers fidget with one of the strips of lace on the garment while he stares into your eyes.
“You know, baby, I think you’re the tease here,” he breathes. He rubs the skin just above your panties and then moves under the fabric. His digits glide through your slick folds, the touch meandering, just at the border of giving you pleasure. “I mean, I think you know what you’ve been doing.”
“What?” you say, struggling to take in his words when you were fixated on his touches to your center.
“You act like a dumb little doll, sweetheart, but I know you’re not. I know you know how to play. Parading around in those pretty outfits, something always on your lips, always saying ‘yes sir,’” he whispers. His digits circle your clit at a painfully slow pace. He brushes over it slightly, giving you hope before flattening his hand over your cunt. You get ready to whine about the teasing before he pushes two fingers inside you.
“Mr. Kennedy,” you gasp, head pressing back further against his shoulder.
“Oh, and how could I forget my favorite, ‘Mr. Kennedy.’ But I think it’s about time you start calling me Leon, babydoll. No need to be so formal anymore,” he says as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right.
You shake your head and whimper. His palm rubs down on your puffy clit with every thrust of his hand.
“Oh no?” he teases, “You like Mr. Kennedy taking care of you, making you feel good?”
Your eyes roll back as you nod. “Mhm. Yes… s-sir,” you say.
You stumble over the word ‘sir.’ Leon catches it immediately, and he’s certain he knows why. He knows what you really wanted to call him.
“Mmm, good girl,” he purrs in your ear, seeing the way the praise pulls extra gasps from you, makes your eyes all glossy, “You’re so sweet, baby. So precious.”
He lays it on thick, trying to get you to crack and say the word on the tip of your tongue. His fingers massage your sensitive spots as they consistently slide into your dripping cunt. You bite your lip, more whimpers coming from you. You look up at him again through your lashes.
“Thank you, sir,” you say, voice all soft and dreamy as you start climbing to that high.
“Of course, babydoll. You deserve it,” he says into your hair, “But you know, I still think ‘sir’ is too professional. Makes me feel like I’m at work. Plus, I get the feeling you have another name in mind too.”
“I- I do?” you ask, looking up at him curiously. He smiles at your naivety and the way you try to get your words out around your whimpers.
“Oh yeah. I can already hear it, sweetheart. You like being taken care of, being doted on. I can see it. All you want is to be a good girl for…”
“Daddy,” you whine, your eyes squeezing shut.
“That’s right,” he chuckles. He speeds up his fingers, delving as deep as possible. A quiet squeal erupts from you, and he hushes you while kissing your cheek a few times. You try to keep your noises down even as your hips buck and your heels dig into the meat of his thighs.
“Daddy I- Daddy, Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.
“Aw, but I don’t want my baby to cum yet,” he mocks. Just as quick as the release had built in you, it was gone. He pulls his fingers out of your hole, and your eyes widen. You whimper in disbelief, hips squirming as if they could find that sensation again if they were positioned just right.
“Daddy!” you practically cry.
“Thought I told you to be quiet,” he says, taking his fingers, still wet with your slick, and shoving them into your mouth. You hum around them in surprise at first, but in no time, your tongue presses against the skin, tasting yourself on him. He pumps them in and out a little, a smaller version of what he had been doing moments earlier down below.
“There you go, baby. Like I said, no complaints. Just shut that silly mind off and focus on Daddy’s fingers,” he murmurs. He watches with approval as you do exactly that, your eyes fluttering a bit as you clear your thoughts out. “Such a fast learner.”
Your pussy still aches with a need for him, but it’s more tolerable when he’s cooing in your ear while your lips are around his fingers.
“Bet my pretty girl wants to cum so bad right about now,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear.
“Mhm,” you hum as you take his fingers further into your mouth.
“Well, you know why Daddy didn’t let you cum yet? It wasn’t just to be mean to you,” he says.
He hears garbled “I don’t know” come from you. He strokes your hair with his other hand.
“It’s because,” he starts. He removes his fingers from between your lips and scoops you up. Next thing you know, your back is against the hardwood of his desk. You’re looking up at him with hazy eyes, slowly blinking as you take in his words. “I want you to cum all over Daddy’s cock.”
In mere seconds, his belt clanks against the floor, your panties are gone, his fly is undone, and his dick is out, rock hard. It’s flushed and leaking precum as he moves it to your entrance. He pushes the tip in first, teasing you by holding himself there.
You whine at the slight intrusion, wiggling your hips for more. Jutting your lip out a bit, you look up at him with a pout. “Daddy…” you plead weakly.
He shakes his head with an amused smile, but it works. He pushes the rest of his length in, filling you up completely. As he slides in, a long groan leaves him and his head tilts towards the ceiling. He grumbles something along the lines of “so fucking tight.” Your fingers reach downward to grip the edge of his desk. It felt like you were already there again, right on the brink of release.
After a moment of just taking in the feeling, he begins thrusting. He pulls his hips back and pushes them forward again. His cock slides between your walls with no resistance, the perfect fit. You were already pulsing around him, sucking him in deeper. A deep laugh rumbles from his chest.
“You're gonna cum already, baby. I’m that good?” he mocks. He thumbs your clit, sending a burst of pleasure through you that makes you clamp down on him. He grunts and starts thrusting a little harder.
You’re whining quietly, but you can’t hold back the yelp when he pinches your clit. You cum on the spot, gushing around him. You babble incoherently and buck your hips. The high was higher than any euphoria you’d ever felt. You’re panting when it’s done, but he’s still going.
He’s smirking down at you, rocking his hips all the while. “Did I say you could do that?” he asks with a light spank to your clit.
You gasp and arch your back off the desk. “No!” you whine, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“I’m sure you are.” Another spank. “You’re lucky it’s your first time, and I’m giving you a break today.”
You nod quickly. “Thank you Daddy,” you mumble.
He keeps thrusting, seamlessly going between hard and fast and slow and deep. The motions shake the desk back and forth, sliding inches on the floor each time. You feel like there’s gonna be scrape marks when you’re done.
You also feel like you’re gonna have marks from the way he’s gripping your hips, battering your sensitive pussy. You were so worked up from all the teasing that the overstimulation didn’t even faze you. Your head just droops back, hanging off the edge of the desk. 
It’s harder to keep track of how loud you’re being when you’re this out of it. He smiles at your needy whines and pulls your thighs forward so your head is back on the desk. He leans forward, covering his body with yours and grinding his hips deeper than before. His hand comes up and covers your mouth.
“You better hope no one hears, pretty girl. We didn’t lock the door,” he pants.
You moan against the flesh of his hand and your walls tighten their grip on him. He growls in your ear at the sensation before a low chuckle comes from him.
“Oh, you’d like that? I should’ve known,” he teases, “You’d love for someone to come in and see how good you’re being. What a sweet girl you are, being used by your teacher. Love for them to see all the things Daddy’s teaching you.”
A strained cry bubbles beneath his fingers, and you nod, feeling shameless about your fantasy. He nuzzles the side of your head and keeps thrusting as deep as he can. He knows you’re getting close again, and this time, he’s right there with you.
“Come on, sweet baby. Give Daddy another one. I know my precious girl can do it. You were wanting it for so long,” he grunts.
Your whole body seizes as another orgasm rips through you. Your whines and cries are fortunately muffled by his palm, but he feels your drool leaking against his skin. His own eyes squeeze shut as he gasps and moans. His hips jerk, pounding into you a few more times before he cums. He bites his lip to silence his own noises as he spills into, filling you to the brim.
Both of your chests are heaving in the end as you take in gulps of air. He slowly pulls out and pushes some of his hair out of his face. You're both half dressed, his pants down to his knees, shirt unbuttoned. You, nude from the waist down and bra shifted out of place beneath your shirt. 
The two of you stand up, you on shaky legs, and pull yourselves back into shape. You pull your panties up and follow them with your jeans while he does the same with his pants. He then falls back into his chair and takes you with him.
He just holds you to his chest for a little bit, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. You don’t say anything either. You curl up into the affection and stroke his forearm gently.
“Sweet girl,” he murmurs before squeezing you a little tighter.
You’re both so into it, not caring about anything beyond this office at this moment. That is until you catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall.
“Oh… Mr. Kennedy,” you start as you slowly untangle yourself from him and stand up, “I probably should get going. I have to meet my friend to study soon.”
He’s not happy about losing your body on his, but he smiles at your words.
“Alright, honey, but seriously. It’s Leon from now on,” he says.
“Ok,” you laugh with a nod, “Leon.”
You grab your things and give him one more sweet look before turning to walk to the door. He pats you on the ass and kisses your cheek.
“See you Monday, baby,” he says.
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munsonhoneybaby · 11 months
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Dustin Doesn't Know | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader
Summary: As things with Eddie start to go farther and farther, you worry how your relationship would impact Dustin if he found out.
Word Count: 7k
Warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use (marijuana), stoner!reader, smut, fwb-esque, oral (m and f receiving), balls??, fingering, p in v (protected), praise, implied subspace?? idk if that was coming across tho???
A/N: there’s a lot of stuff about reader that i’m super vague on because i’m thinking of explaining it more in the final part or maybe additional drabbles and stuff like that (she is adopted tho). i really hope that this chapter lives up to the hype and praise that the first one got since it’s taken me three months to update lol. as always lmk if i missed anything in the warnings.
part one | finale | tmic masterlist
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When you heard the soft groan of your window slowly sliding open, you couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across your face. Turning around, you were met with Eddie maneuvering his lean body through the window; it wasn’t quite as awkward as you’d expected, but he certainly wasn’t as silent as he’d hoped to be as his feet thudded on your carpeted floor.
“Not too bad, Munson. You’re definitely lucky being a heavy sleeper runs in the Henderson DNA, though.” As you face him completely, he holds out a baggie of weed and a small box. 
Eyebrows furrowing, you took it to examine it further as he explained. “It’s uh– incense. I noticed you lit some last time, figured it was for the smell.”
“Yeah, makes it a little easier for Mom to pretend she doesn’t know.” Opening the package, you placed one of the sticks in the holder and lit the end. “That’s really sweet, Eddie, thank you.”
“Hope the scent is alright ‘n everything, I didn’t really know what you like.” Shrugging his jacket off, he tossed it over the back of the chair at your desk.
Suppressing a smile, you bent down to the drawer next to him to get out your tray and paper again, “It’s actually one of my favorites.”
“Oh,” He seemed pleasantly surprised, but he kept his head down as he took a seat at your desk. “Good.”
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m gonna roll? Why? What’s it look like I’m doing?”
Flicking the back of his head, you replied, “Suit yourself then, smartass. I was gonna do it this time, but never mind.”
“Jeez, touchy,” He huffed playfully as he swatted your hand away. “I don’t mind rolling, I’d be doing it if I were at home right now anyway. Your only job is to sit there and look pretty for me, alright?”
“A little demeaning, but I think I can handle it,” You sighed dramatically. Much like last time, you stretched yourself out on the bed, lying on your stomach as you watched him roll the joint. His fingers handled the paper so delicately, knowing exactly how to roll and pinch it without threatening to rip it. Every now and then one of his rings would drag or clink against the wood of your desk, and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together as you remembered the way the cool metal had felt against your hot skin.
“So, how’ve you been doing?” He placed the finished joint between his lips and held his lighter to it as he claimed the first long drag of the night. “I haven’t seen you in a minute.”
“I really am sorry about that,” You answered bashfully. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, I swear I don’t usually do stuff like that.”
“What? You mean invite in guys you hardly know to make ‘em dinner and let ‘em finger you?” Wearing a massive smirk, he held the joint out to you. You accepted it but huffed embarrassedly and his smirk only grew. “Nothin’ to be ashamed of, babe. Christ knows I’m reliving every second, I could recite every gory detail back to you.”
“I don’t know why you’re reliving it. You made me come, got blue balls, and went home.”
“So? Making you come is like seventy-five percent of the fun. Jerking off’ll make up for missing the rest,” He shrugged.
“You really don’t hold anything back, huh?” You croaked around a chestful of smoke.
“Maybe I just don’t feel like I have to with you.” You couldn’t tell if that statement went deeper than this conversation. “Should I?”
“You don’t have to hold anything back with me, Eddie,” You answered honestly. “As long as you behave around my brother.”
He pointed a finger toward you in warning as his lips curled mischievously, “I’ll remember you said that.”
Rolling your eyes, you take a couple extra hits from the joint before passing it back. He watched as you laid back on the bed, closing your eyes and slowly exhaling, the smoke billowing upwards. Eyes wandering down your body, he took in the way your shirt had rolled up to show the flesh of your tummy, how the band of your thong peeked out of your pajama pants– a different pair than last time– and accentuated the dip of your waist. He wondered how many people had gotten to see you like this; he wondered if they really appreciated it. 
“You’re about to get ash on my carpet and I’m gonna have to kick your ass,” You spoke abruptly, breaking him from his reverie.
“I’m shaking, babe,” He monotoned as he ashed it in the tray.
“You should be.”
“What’s with you, hm?” He stood and placed the joint between his lips, lifting his arms to stretch his back and shoulders. His voice was teasing as he stepped toward your bed, toward you.“Bein’ so mean to me today. You know, you were a lot nicer the last time we smoked together.”
Scooting over to make room for him on the bed, your eyes caught on the faint trail of hair leading into his jeans before lifting to meet his. Reaching out to take the joint back, you said, “‘M not being mean. Just keeping you in line, Munson.”
Crawling into the bed beside you, he settled on his side, head resting in his hand. “Probably a good idea.” Hoping his fingers weren’t twitching with nerves, he slowly grazed them over the soft skin of your stomach. “You know I’m always gettin’ into trouble.”
“I guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on you,” You posited, taking yet another long drag.
“A close one,” He hummed in agreement. His touch moved up your stomach, raising goosebumps in its wake as your head slumped against his shoulder. “This okay?”
Though you were leaning into his touch, you asked, “Do you think this is a bad idea?”
Eddie’s hand froze and he leaned back slightly to try to look at you. “What? What do you mean? Do you think it is?”
You didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know. You’re just so important to Dustin and I don’t want to change the way he sees you. I would never want something between us to affect your relationship with him.”
“In the nicest way possible, babe–” He brushed your hair back from your face, finally locking eyes with you. “You worry too much. We’re both adults, alright? Even if something were to happen, I wouldn’t let Dustin get caught in that. We’d work around it, y’know? I think we could be mature about it. If things went bad, that is– and I mean, I don’t really think they would–”
You stretched your neck to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Careful of the now-unlit joint still in your hand, you squeezed his side. “You’re probably right, Eds.” Your lips trailed to his jaw, lined with a light smile. “I won’t worry about it anymore tonight, I didn’t mean to get you worked up.”
His cheeks flushed and he mumbled only half-jokingly, “‘M not worked up. Just don’t want you runnin’ out on me just yet, you’re actually kinda cool.”
Your eyes softened and your hand slid from his side to his chest, “I won’t go anywhere, Eddie. You don’t have to worry about that. Now,” Pressing against his chest, you urged him onto his back so you could straddle his thighs. He bit down on his lower lip, looking up at you with eager eyes. Slipping your hand into his jeans pocket for his lighter, you continued, “Enough with the heavy. We still have half a joint to finish and I seem to remember getting interrupted in the middle of something important the last time you were here.”
“You know, you really don’t have to feel obligated,” He reminded you. Still, his hands immediately wandered from your thighs, up your sides, and back.
“Who said I felt obligated, hm?” The pads of your fingers brushed his lips as you placed the lit joint between them. “Maybe I’ve just really been looking forward to making you come.”
A cloud of smoke rolled from his mouth as he groaned, clutching your hips to draw you further toward him. “Fuck, keep talking like that and it’s gonna happen way too soon, sweet thing. Been thinkin’ about it, huh?”
“Haven’t stopped thinking about it since you left,” You answered. “About what you’d do when you got home.”
“Yeah?” His hand crept beneath your shirt, running up your spine before guiding you closer. “That’s cute, baby. Thought about me stroking my cock and thinkin’ how much better that pretty pussy would feel instead? You didn’t touch yourself after I left, did you?”
Hips already grinding down against his, you lightly pinched his side. “None of your business.”
“Wait, seriously? I was just fucking around, did you actually make yourself come thinking about me beating off?”
Your head fell back and you let out a laugh that was way too loud for the time of the night. “Eddie, what the fuck?”
He said your name, tone far more serious than his statement required. “You have no idea how fucking hot that is. You’re actually about to make me bust in my pants.”
“Well don’t, alright? We were just getting to the good part when somebody got sidetracked,” You teased. Leaning down, you let your lips graze his and smiled. “Let me make you feel as good as you made me feel, yeah?” After pressing a quick peck to his lips, you sat up. “Take off your shirt.”
“Bossy,” He muttered with false exasperation. As he yanked his shirt over his head and whipped it across the room, he felt your hands drift to the button of his jeans. He tilted his chin to kiss you deeper than before. 
“Of course, you have more tattoos,” You huffed.
He might have asked if that was a problem if he hadn’t picked up on the subtle whine behind your voice. “Mmm, should’a known you’d dig the tatties. I’ll give you a tour later, huh, sweetheart? Wouldn’t wanna get sidetracked again, would we?”
“You’re a jackass, y’know that?”
“I think I’ve been told once or twice, yeah.” Hand framing your jaw, his rings pressed into one side of your neck as his left slow, open-mouthed kisses along the other. “Pretty baby,” He hummed lowly against your ear. “Bein’ so good to me.”
“You still haven’t let me show you how good I can be,” You replied breathily. 
“I just keep on distractin’ you, huh?” He pressed a couple playful kisses to your lips before asking, “Want me to let you get back to work?” Before he’d even finished his sentence, you were unzipping his jeans and scooting backward to tug them past his hips.
“Fuck, I knew you’d be big,” You whined as you eyed the outline of his length within the confines of his boxers.
“I’ll try not to let that go to my head,” He jested with a smirk. 
“I’m sure it will anyway. That’s okay though, your confidence isn’t misplaced, Eds.” When you finally pulled his boxers down, you practically had to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan at the sight. His cock twitched against his lower abdomen, precome almost dripping into the hair there. “Eddie, shit. Gonna taste so good.”
The way his length jumped at the sound of your voice almost had you drooling. He held your hair back from your face, thumb rubbing over your cheek as your hand wrapped around his base. “So fuckin’ dirty, gettin’ all desperate to suck my cock. Go on, baby, I won’t keep you waiting anymore.”
“I think I’m the one who’s s’posed to be saying that,” You hummed. Leaning forward, you let spit drip from your lip to the head, slowly stroking him. 
“Don’t sweat it, you’re worth holding out for.” His words already held a faint pant. As your tongue traced his length he tightened his grip on your hair. When your lips finally wrapped around him, his mouth fell open, a shaky breath escaping him as he hits the back of your throat. “Shit, definitely worth it.” Eyes glazed, he watched how your cheeks hollowed around him, how your lashes fluttered as you kept your eyes down. “Look at me, sweet thing. Gimme those eyes.” Nervously doing as he asked, your gaze locked with his and he stifled a groan. “Too fuckin’ pretty.” 
His hand still sweetly held your hair back from your face as you let his cock slip from your spit-soaked lips, mouthing sloppy kisses along it until you reached his balls. Your tongue laved across one and his eyes rolled back, head falling against your pillows. “What the fuck,” He groaned incredulously. “You’re fucking unreal. I have to be dreaming right now.”
“Vivid dreamer,” You quipped lowly.
Smirk never leaving his face, he tugged lightly at your hair, drawing a small gasp from you. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had this dream, sweetheart. Definitely never felt this good before, though.”
“Glad I’m living up to your expectations, Munson.” Taking him back into your mouth, the musky taste of his precome coated your tongue. The moan he fought to hold back became a whimper as you lapped up every drop. Resisting the urge to gag, you bobbed your head further until your nose brushed the dark curls around his base. Your nails dragged lightly over the ink winding around his hipbone, making them jerk in response. 
“You have no idea,” A whine was beginning to leak into his tone. “‘M already close, baby. You’re s’fucking good. Such a good girl for me.” Hand cradling the back of your head, his hips rutted carefully to meet your movements. Nails digging into his hips encouragingly, you tried to keep your eyes on him as the rise and fall of his chest grew more rapid. “Fuck, you’re g’nna make me come.” You moaned eagerly, vibrations making his thighs tense. 
Not wanting to pull your hair too hard, Eddie clutched your bedding instead. His other hand formed a fist which he bit down on, huffing out ragged breaths around it in an attempt to keep quiet. You could feel his cock twitch as his come filled your mouth and a tremor ran through his body as he watched you swallow all of it.
He was still panting as you crawled to his level, planting a far-too-sweet kiss on his lips and smiling. Shaking his head, he breathed, “Too fuckin’ good.”
“Happy to return the favor.”
“Fuck favors.” His hand found a home in your hair again as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. His free hand lifted your shirt until you leaned back so he could tug it over your head. “I just want you. Are you alright with that?” You just looked into his eyes for a moment– silently communicating something that you weren’t sure either of you fully understood– before your lips met his again, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra. Calloused fingertips brushed down the sensitive skin of your neck and over your chest to your nipples. You shivered, goosebumps pebbling your skin as he teased them with the pads of his thumbs. Your mouth fell open against his and his teeth nipped your lower lip. Trailing a few kisses along your jaw, he murmured, “Pretty baby.”
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps in the hallway followed by the bathroom door creaking made you both freeze. You glanced at your bedroom doorknob to ensure it was locked before you and Eddie both eyed the alarm clock on your nightstand. It was almost a quarter past three in the morning and Dustin would be getting up for school in less than four hours.
“That’s my cue, isn’t it?” He pouted.
“I think so,” You sighed. Lifting your hips, you allowed him to fix his boxers and jeans before he handed you your shirt. “We can hang out again soon though, okay?”
“Yeah,” He snorted, crawling out of your bed to search the other side of the room for his own shirt. “‘Hang out’. ‘Cause I do this with all my friends, y’know?”
“I’m sorry, do you want me to say you can sneak in my window for head again?”
Laughing, he pulled his shirt over his head and slipped his shoes back on before walking back over to you. His hands cradled your jaw, tilting your head back so he could look into your eyes from where he stood between your legs. “Maybe I wanna give you head next time, hm? How ‘bout that?”
Body heating embarrassedly, you tried to look anywhere but his eyes. “I’ll consider it.”
“Mmm, good.” He pressed a long, slow kiss to your lips before hesitantly pulling back. “I’ve got a lot to think about until the next time I see you.”
“I’ll call you, okay?” 
Grinning, he swiped his thumb over your cheek one last time before he headed for your window. “I’ll be waiting, Henderson.” He ducked back out the window and you peeked your head out after him. Throwing you a quick wink, he started to cut across the yard where he must have parked a few doors down, lighting a cigarette on his way. This was far from the last time Eddie Munson would make an escape from your window.
Letting out another sigh, you kicked off your pajama pants and climbed back into bed. After spending nearly an hour tossing and turning, your hand found its way between your legs, seeking relief so you could finally fall asleep.
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Nearly four weeks later, you were watching TV in the living room when the boys came in after school. Dustin threw himself down on the couch with a loud groan while Lucas and Mike both sat down with much less dramatic frustration. “I just don’t understand why they can’t rehearse somewhere else, Hellfire uses the same room every week and they’ve already kicked us out once!”
“Well, it is the drama room and they are rehearsing for the school musical,” You reminded him, going to the kitchen. He grumbled something unintelligible in response as you poured glasses of water for all three boys. “You guys could always have Hellfire here again. Gives Mom a reason to get out of the house and I don’t mind having you guys as long as you don’t totally trash the basement.”
There was a brief pause before he spoke again, cautiously. “...Will you make snacks ‘n stuff?”
Rolling your eyes, you ruffled his hair which made him swat at your hand as you answered. “I suppose I could do something like that. I’m not making anything extravagant though. Let me know if there are any allergies I should know about.”
“Should someone call and ask Eddie?” Lucas piped up. “You know how he can get. He probably won’t like not having his throne again.”
“Eddie would probably have Hellfire here every week if he could,” Mike scoffed. After a none-too-subtle look from Lucas though, he glanced at Dustin, then you, and seemed to think better of it. “‘Cause of the uh- snacks, y’know.”
“Right, anyways–” Lucas took over, inconspicuously trying to guide the conversation back on track. “Someone should probably call him and let him know so he can tell the rest of the guys.”
Over the course of the past month, Eddie had snuck in a grand total of three times, and between these secret smoke sessions you managed to squeeze in conversation at the weekly Hellfire meetings. You called him every now and then when no one else was home, but that was it. While you suspected he’d told Jeff and Gareth, you definitely didn’t believe he would say anything to Lucas or Mike. Whatever suspicions they had, you just hoped they wouldn’t share them with Dustin.
You raised an eyebrow at the two of them questioningly and, in almost perfect sync, they stood and said, “I’ll do it!” You still had no idea how they got away with lying to their parents so often.
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You suppressed a smile as you heard Iron Maiden’s “Phantom of the Opera” slowly growing louder until Eddie’s van creaked to a halt in your driveway the next week. The music cut out, replaced by voices and doors slamming. He didn’t even knock before he walked in, Jeff and Gareth in tow. Wearing a wide grin, his dimples were on full display as he leaned across the counter separating the front room from the kitchen. “Heard all this was your idea. You obsessed with me or somethin’, Henderson?”
“Excuse me for trying to be a good big sister, I’ll let them kick you to the basement with newspaper and AV club next week.”
He opened his mouth to respond but got distracted when he caught sight of just how much food you made. It looked like you were hosting a potluck; there were three different crockpots plugged in, at least four covered pots on the stovetop, and countless bowls and foil-covered plates scattered across the countertops. “Woah.”
“Did you make all this?” Jeff asked as he stepped into the kitchen.
“Yeah, I hope you didn’t eat anything before you came. I may have gone a little overboard.” 
The three of them grabbed paper plates and Gareth chimed, “How long were you cooking?”
“I don’t know uh– since around ten this morning? It’s really not a big deal. Dustin was at school all day and Mom was at work and I had the day off anyway, figured I had nothing better to do.” You shrugged, turning to get a few glasses out of the cabinet for them. “You can drink whatever outta the fridge. The boys are already downstairs digging in, of course.”
“Thank you, you really didn’t have to do so much. We would’ve been thrilled for a couple bags of chips and a two-liter.”
“Yeah, seriously. Thank you,” Jeff added, he and Gareth piling their plates high.
“It’s my pleasure, guys. Really.”
Eddie’s plate was still empty in his hand, waiting up for them to head to the basement so he could get a moment alone with you. The other two noticed, exchanging a knowing glance before making their way toward the basement door. “We’ll go ahead and start setting up.”
“Thanks, I’ll be down in a sec,” Eddie nodded. When the door closed behind them, he set his plate back down on the counter. “They’re right, you really didn’t have to do all this, sweetheart.”
“Gave me something to do with my day,” You insisted. “You’d better eat some or you’ll hurt my feelings.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna eat. You’ll be lucky if there are leftovers.” He spared a glance at the basement door before his hands found the counter on either side of you, trapping you between his arms. “Maybe tonight I can come back for dessert?”
“I already made cookies and peach cream puffs–”
He interrupted you with a laugh, “C’mon, now you’re practically setting me up for it.” You shoved at his shoulder, fighting back another smile, and he leaned closer anyway. “How about I just come back to thank you for all your hard work then?”
Tilting your chin up, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and replied, “How about you make your plate and eat your food first and I’ll think about it?”
“I’m already on it. I’ll get seconds, too. I’ll get fuckin’ thirds, babe, you’ll see. The way to my heart is through my stomach.”
“Save the theatrics for the game downstairs, hm? They’re waiting on you.”
“You in a hurry to get rid of me or something?” He asked, maybe two-thirds playfully. 
“You’re here for Dustin is all,” You shrugged, toying with a loose thread on his Hellfire tee. “He’s expecting you down there and you know how he is, he won’t have any problem asking me questions about what takes us so long when we see each other.”
His thumb rubbed careful circles against your upper arm. “I really think you’re reading too much into it. You’re his big sister looking out for him and I’m the head of his school club, we’ve got plenty of stuff to talk about. Dustin’s not gonna notice  if we make conversation for a few minutes whenever we see each other.” His tone grew more joking as he added, “Besides, I seem to remember being owed a certain phone call that I’ve yet to receive.”
“It’s been a week. I can’t sneak you in every night, alright?”
“You would if you could though, right?” He smirked.
Shoving him away, you rolled your eyes. “Alright, Eddie the Banished is now officially banished from my kitchen. Get your food and go downstairs.”
His eyes narrow at you as he started making his plate. Between crunches, he spoke around a mouthful of chips. “You’re a bully, you know that?” 
Grabbing a roll of paper towels, you tucked it under his arm for him to take down to the rest of the boys. “Just make sure you all clean up after yourselves and maybe I’ll let you come back over after Dustin goes to Mike’s.”
“You drive a hard bargain, babe.” He stole a quick kiss before making his way toward the basement door. “But you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll try and keep the noise down.”
“No, you won’t.”
“No, I won’t.”
When he left about two and a half hours later, he only drove two blocks away, circling around long enough for the younger boys to have ridden their bikes away from the Henderson house. “I could get used to usin’ the front door,” He chimed as he strolled back in. “Think I pulled a muscle squeezing through your window last time.”
Having changed into an old Judas Priest tee and pajama shorts, you were sealing the last few containers of leftovers and putting them in the fridge. “Uh oh, should I start looking for a new dealer?”
“See, that? Mean. So mean.”
“How about I let you go ahead to my room and light the joint sitting on my nightstand? Would I be less mean then?”
He frowned, taking a step in your direction instead. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help you clean up?”
“I’m already almost done, it’ll just be a minute. Promise.”
“If you say so,” He drawled as he headed down the hall to your room. The door creaked as it closed halfway behind him and he looked around your room yet again. He liked being in here, being surrounded by you. He hoped you wouldn’t find it rude that he opened the drawer he’d seen you keep your incense in, lighting a stick and placing it in the holder. The radio was already turned down low when he turned it on, a cassette of Black Sabbath still inside. Then he cracked open the window, taking off his shoes and jacket afterward. 
Holding the joint between his lips, he lit it and tossed the lighter on the bed before continuing to look around. A few necklaces were hooked over the corner of the mirror that hung on your wall. Mascara, rings, and a couple pairs of earrings were left out on your vanity. On your dresser, there was a framed picture of you and Dustin in the Hawkins middle school, your arm around his shoulders as he flaunted a science fair ribbon enthusiastically to the camera. Bottles of lotion and perfume sat beside it and he was obviously lacking a healthy level of self-restraint as he picked one up and popped the cap off to smell it.
He nearly jumped three feet in the air when you spoke up from behind him. “Did you wanna take a pair of panties too or…?”
“Well, if the offer’s on the table–” Still, he had on a sheepish expression as he turned to face you. “I’m sorry, that was probably totally weird of me–”
“Maybe it’s weird of me that I don’t mind,” You shrugged as you took the joint from him and sat cross-legged on your bed. “Thanks for getting everything ready in here. Obviously, I don’t need to tell you to make yourself at home.” 
He sat down backward on the chair at your vanity, facing you though his head was tilted toward the floor. “I swear I wasn’t like– actually snooping through anything. I just looked around the room.”
“Eddie, you don’t have to defend yourself. You were smelling perfume that was sitting out, it’s not like you were rifling through drawers. I told you you could be in here by yourself, I wouldn’t have left anything out I wanted kept private. Besides, I trust you.” Leaning forward, you passed him the joint. “And you don’t have to sit all the way over there.”
“You really aren’t upset at all?” He looked up at you through his lashes.
“Would you just get in the bed? The house is gonna be empty til at least 11:30 and we’ve still got half a joint. I was thinking of possibly smoking a bowl too.”
Suppressing a smile, he settled into the bed beside you. “So, does that mean I still get the panties?”
You replied by jabbing him in the side with your sock-covered foot, but his fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling your leg across his lap. He traced patterns along the bare skin of your legs as he watched you smoke, occasionally squeezing at your calf or thigh. Feeling a little jittery as the quiet held out, he murmured, “I like your shirt.”
“Thank you, Eds,” You hummed back.
Your little amused smile made his cheeks flush faintly. “Welcome.”
He was flooded with a wave of déjà vu as you crawled into his lap, cupping his jaw to exhale smoke into his mouth. “This feels awful familiar.”
“Well, we’ve got more time than usual.” One hand wandered the expanse of his chest through his shirt as the other placed the dwindling joint between his lips. “I was thinking maybe we could finally finish what we keep starting.”
“You sure we aren’t gonna get interrupted this time?” He asked jokingly.
“We’ve got plenty of time,” You reassured him with a small smile.
“Good.” He drew you closer, “‘Cause I’m thinkin’ we don’t need to go so fast tonight.” Your eyes fluttered closed at the first touch of his lips to your skin, the kisses he left growing sloppier as they moved farther down your neck. A small chill shook his shoulders as your fingers grazed the nape of his neck, caringly gathering his hair into a fluffy bundle and loosely tying it back. So fuckin’ precious. “Thank you, sweetheart. You always think of everything, don’t you?”
“I try.”
Hand cupping the back of your head, his lips molded to yours in a long, slow kiss. As he did, he urged you onto your back, fingers grazing your lips as he settled the joint between them. “That’s enough of that. You don’t have to think anymore tonight. I just wanna take you apart, okay? Make you feel good.” His fingers slipped beneath both your shorts and underwear, gently tugging them past your hips. “Been thinkin’ about this for weeks.” The way he pushed your legs back toward your chest had you spread wide for him, your arms rising to cover your face bashfully. Warm hands eased back and forth along the backs of your thighs as he pressed kisses to the delicate skin at the creases of them. “Fuck, you even smell good.”
Eddie actually moaned when he finally tasted you. His tongue soothed over your clit before delving inside you, hands grasping at any part of you he could touch. Meanwhile, your hands were weaving into his hair, further dishevelling his already-messy bun. “Eds,” You breathed.
He briefly pulled back just enough to pant, “Can you take your shirt off? Please? Wanna see you.”
The second you lifted it over your head he was groping at the newly exposed skin, back to burying his face between your thighs. Looking up at you with those big, brown eyes, he zeroed in on your clit. You gasped, “Oh my god, right there.” When he eased his middle finger inside you, curling it to prod at a sensitive spot, you were unable to stifle a squeal.
“I’m just hittin’ all the sweet spots, huh? Pussy was made for me, baby.” Your hand found his free one on the bed, fingers lacing with his as the other remained in his hair. “That’s right, I’ve got you.” A second finger joined the first inside you, spreading you open. Devoting his effort to making you come, his mouth only ever broke away from you to coo the most knee-weakeningly dirty words. Things like, “Want you to come all over my fingers ‘n’ then I’ll stretch you out with my cock, okay? Know you’ve been waitin’ for it.”
“‘M almost there, Eddie, please. Need more.” Distress colored your tone, muscles tensing and un-tensing sporadically. His hand released yours, choosing to drag the pad of his thumb over your nipple instead. The careful pinch he gave afterward made your toes curl.
Feeling your walls squeeze around him, he fractionally sped up the movements of his hand, tongue still tormenting your clit. Quiet gasping moans overpowered the sound of the music as you clutched at the t-shirt covering his shoulders. “That’s my girl, let it out. I’m right here.” He waited until you’d relaxed to gently draw his fingers from you– arms covering your eyes and forehead as you caught your breath, you didn’t see him lick them clean. His palms were warm and slightly rough as they moved over your stomach and sides, “Still with me, sweet thing?”
“Yeah, yeah ‘m here,” You sighed airily. “Just waiting for the stars in my vision to go away.”
“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, babe.” His lips made a path up back up your stomach, sloppy kisses and gentle bites ravishing your skin. Instead, you urged him to kiss you before finding the hem of his Hellfire t-shirt to yank it off. Your nails scraped gently over the tattoos on his chest and he shivered, clutching your hips to his. The icy cold metal of his handcuff belt buckle met the heat between your legs, making you gasp into his mouth. You reached down, fumbling to undo the handcuff design. “Easy, baby, lemme do it.”
Standing from the bed, he took his time working his belt and jeans open, eyes slowly raking over you. His lips curved into a subtle smile making your stomach flip. The way Eddie looked at you sometimes was almost overwhelming. You could see the tip of his tongue poke out from the corner of his mouth as he pushed his pants and boxers down, immediately climbing back over you. “Condoms in the nightstand,” You mumbled against the demon head inked on his pec. 
He reached over to open the drawer, chuckling at the pre-packed bowl in the corner and grabbing a condom. You surprised him by taking it from him, tearing it open, and pulling him down for another long, slow kiss as you rolled it on for him. Humming as you slowly pulled apart again, he said, “You’re kinda fuckin’ adorable, you know that?”
“Don’t be a dick,” You pouted against his lips.
“You always think I’m teasin’ you and I’m not.” His nose brushed your cheek as he murmured, “Just think you’re the sweetest little thing. Let me appreciate you.”
You tucked your head into the crook of his neck a little bashfully. “Wanna feel you, Eds.”
“I’ve got you, honey, don’t worry.” The first few inches already had you clenching around him as he pressed in. His fingers laced into your hair, gently tugging your head back enough for him to watch your face. “There she is. Doin’ okay, pretty girl?”
“Feels so good,” You breathed out. Your voice sounded strained like your throat was tight. “S’big, Eddie.”
“I know, but you’re takin’ me so good. Doin’ such a good job, baby.” He brushed your hair away from your face as he gazed down at you, his thumb stroking over your temple. “Tell me if you wanna stop.”
Your nose brushed his when you shook your head no, nails digging into his shoulder blades. Eddie gripped your thigh, hitching it over his hip. Eyes closing, you didn’t see the way he watched you as he pulled out nearly completely before pushing back in. He admired how your eyebrows furrowed a little, your lips parting with a reserved moan. You still weren’t letting go.
He was gonna change that.
Forgoing the slow pace he’d been giving you to adjust, sudden quick thrusts of his hips had your eyes opening. You blinked up at him with glassy eyes. Thighs squeezing at his sides, you clung to him. Still supporting himself on one arm, the other snuck between your bodies to find your clit. The broken moan you let out made him smile. “S’that what you needed to make some noise for me? Love hearing you, sweetheart.” He hissed as your nails dragged down his back, but that smile never left his face.
Heat licked up your legs starting from the soles of your feet, your stomach tightening as a second orgasm crept up on you. He could tell when you came again, feeling your walls spasm around him while pitchy whines you couldn’t suppress escaped your throat. “Shit,” He panted out. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good. C’n I keep going?”
Nodding, you crossed your ankles behind his back, legs wrapping more comfortably around him and caging him in closer. “Wan’ you to come, Eddie.”
“Jesus, babe, won’t take long if you keep doin’ shit like that.” He kissed you, but your lips fell open against his as his cock ground deeper into you. “God, this pussy’s fucking perfect, baby.” His grunts became pronounced groans as your hands tangled in his hair, hair tie barely hanging on. He gripped your thigh so tight you knew you’d look for fingerprints the next morning. You tugged his lower lip between your teeth and his hips jerked, burying himself as deep inside you as he could when he came.
Neither of you loosened your hold on the other for another minute or two– you just tucked your head into the crook of his neck and let your palms explore the expanse of his back while you both caught your breath. His weight was warm and grounding on top of you, calloused fingertips grazing back and forth along your side.
When you let your head fall back against the pillow you were met with Eddie’s big, warm eyes and soft smile. It was a little flustering, you could only meet his eyes through your lashes. “What?”
But he didn’t answer. He just cradled your face in his hand and delicately molded his lips to yours. It was only after that that he finally pulled out, making your legs twitch around his waist before letting him up. He tied off the condom and threw it away and as he pulled on his boxers, he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom? I’ll get some water and get the bowl ready.”
“Thank you, Eddie,” You hummed quietly in response.
“Don’t need to thank me, sweet girl.” He handed you your shirt, watching you pull it on and head for the bathroom before he went to the kitchen.
Finding him back in your bed, bowl and lighter in hand, you didn’t hesitate to crawl in with him. Your back against his chest, he offered it to you and lit it as you took a hit. His arm settled around your waist and your fingers loosely wrapped around it. He took a decent hit for himself and finally spoke again as he breathed out the smoke. “Is everything alright? You’ve been kinda quiet– I can go if you want.”
Your hold on his arm tightened slightly. “No, not at all. Sorry, I’m just kinda…” Searching for the words, your thumb tapped impatiently on his skin and you nuzzled yourself further back into him.
“That’s okay,” He reassured. “I think I get it. Take your time, baby, whatever you need.” You hit the bowl again, letting him hold it for you this time and resting your head against his chest afterward. Eddie looked down at you, your eyes closed as you sighed out smoke, and he was taken aback again by how open you were being with him– how much you were trusting him with. Warmth filled his chest at the realization that you were letting him take care of you.
Over the next few minutes, your head seemed to clear a bit. Taking a drink of water, your eyes finally met Eddie’s again, giving each other a small smile.
“So, I’ve got a proposal for you,” He began.
“I’m listening.”
He passed the bowl back to you, gaze following your movements as he spoke. “I wanna spend time with you. Not just sneaking in to fuck around or stealing a few minutes when we see each other at Hellfire, I mean really spend time with you. Let me take you out to dinner or– or come watch a movie at my place or something.” His nerves rose as he kept talking, seeing your eyelids sink lower as you inhaled a lungful of smoke.
He fidgeted with the chain around his wrist until you breathed out a response. “Okay. It’s a date.”
 His face split in a grin, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
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part one | finale | tmic masterlist
tags: @adequate-superstar @akiratoro420 @bbciwp @trixyvixx @yujyujj @nope-thanks @broccolisoupy @spookybabey @comboboo @thecraziestcrayon @mommybaby-witch @imvirginia17 @therensistance @peacheskiwi @skyfullofsong123 @hcneyedsstuff @aysheashea @prestinalove @ungracefularchimedes @psychospore @bellaisasleep @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ficsaremylife @ohmeg @twirls827 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @sebastiansstanswhore @444aslut444 @ourautumn86 @dream-a-little-nightmare @extrainsanity @poniesandcupcakes @trinuh @cantreadbutcute
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(so tumblr doesn’t eat the end of my fic again)
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luveline · 1 year
Text
𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).
7k words, new-ish established relationship, lots of fluff between angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, reader calls him aaron mostly
༺༻
The security for Aaron's building is weird. Weird as in extensive, intimidating, and extremely intricate. 
You'd really wanted to minimise his stress — the whole reason you're here is to bring him a forgotten sheet of paper that must've slipped out at your kitchen table from one of his case files because you don't want him to have to make up a new copy — but you're too scared to go in. 
You pull your phone out reluctantly and dial in his number, eager to hear his voice even if the security detail a few feet away are freaking you out. 
"Hotchner." 
"Hi, handsome," you say softly. 
There's a small pause. For a split-second a nightmare situation runs through your head, his low voice asking, Who is this?
"Hi, honey." 
You beam so wide it aches, forcing a pleased little breath from your mouth. 
"What do you need?" he asks. 
"I'm outside of your building but I'm too afraid to come in. I'm not sure they'll let me. I need a badge, right?" 
"You're outside." 
You pick at the hem of your sweater, a loose thread marring your otherwise pretty outfit. You'll admit to dressing up unnecessarily to see him. Nice clothes, your most subtle perfume. 
"I found something confidential this morning, a piece of paper. I didn't read it, I promise."
"You really shouldn't be here," he says. 
Your smile abruptly drops. You press the phone closer to your face and wait, hoping he's not talking to you. When it's clear that he is you cringe, the silence pervasive and the most awkward it's ever been with him. 
"Sorry." Your apology is quick, quiet. "I thought it would be easier for you. I didn't mean to… overstep." 
"It's not that. It's busy. Would you hang on to it for me? Maybe I can come and get it tonight, bring dinner." 
You love how he says it. It's not a question, not an assumption. And it's a relief. If he wants to see you on a night where you hadn't planned to get together, he can't be mad at you for being here. 
"Yeah, please. If you want to." 
"I want to. Okay?"
Not for confirmation, it's shorthand. You okay? 
"Yeah. Okay. Have a good rest of your day, handsome." 
"Bye." 
You like to think you can hear the sound of his phone clicking shut, imagining him at his desk in one of his neat suits with a case file open in front of him. You're not sure on the specifics of his job but you know he looks good doing it, and you also know he's very, very busy. You don't take his clipped goodbye as anything but efficiency. 
Maybe you should. 
The next time Aaron inadvertently hurts your feelings is in person. 
Compared to him, you wouldn't say you're an incredibly exciting character. Your day job is tame, your hobbies are invaried. You like to watch TV, see movies, you enjoy people-watching. When you hold that stuff up to his job, his profiling, and his hobbies (seriously, who likes triathlon?) you feel rather immature. 
You know deep down that hobbies are hobbies and that your job doesn't define how special you are, but when you're with someone like Aaron who lives and breathes his profession it can play with your head. 
"Is there something interesting about my shirt?" he asks, a murmur under the sound of the TV. 
You look up from the hem of his nice button down and smile, a half-smile. You want it to be more genuine than it is. "Don't you already know?" 
"What do you mean?" 
"You can tell I'm…" You frown, dropping the starched material of his shirt from between your fingers. "I've given myself up, haven't I?" 
"A little," he concedes sympathetically. 
You huff your defeat and let your cheek fall into his chest. Nice to seek comfort from him, nicer for him to give it to you, his arm rising from behind your shoulders to hook around your neck. 
"I'm not profiling you," he says, voice close to the top of your head, "I'm wondering what you're thinking."
You relax under his touch, his big hand settling in the curve of your neck. A semi-hug. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his front completely, your unhappy thoughts dissolving with any tension and leaving only a want to kiss his stupidly nice neck.
"It doesn't matter," you say. 
"You sure?" 
You lift your head from his chest. He has to lean back to meet your eyes and he does it unflinchingly, a bemused smile playing on his lips. 
"I'm good. Better, if you would…" 
"Yeah?" he asks quietly, leaning down, down. 
You can't withstand his charms. He knows exactly how to get you, his smile and his eyes, his lashes kissing in the corners as they close. 
He's imposing in the best way, a heavy presence that overwhelms you. All you can think about is the way he nudges his nose with yours to encourage your head back and the heat of his lips as they touch your own. His arm tightens behind your head.
You try to rise onto your knees, hands vying for his neck and his pitch dark hair. You're doubly pleased when you feel his mouth turning up into a smile, a mirror of your own. 
"Slow down," he chides gently. 
You're about to say something unlike yourself, something loud and brash. Speed up, Hotchner. You're hopped up on the giddiness that comes with being close to him. You're just about to say it when his phone rings. 
He gives you a short, hard kiss. 
"Hotchner." 
You sit back in his lap, his hand sliding to the small of your back to keep you close as his face clouds with confusion. You attempt to climb off of him because you're not a sack of sugar — you're probably giving him numb thighs — but he won't let you.
"Garcia," he says eventually, "is this an emergency?" His tone makes it clear to you that whatever it is Garcia is saying, it's far from an emergency. 
His hand climbs up, over your shoulder. You shudder as he tugs your earlobe, a mild and thoughtless gesture. You're so busy shivering you almost miss his playful eye roll. 
"I haven't changed my mind. Yeah. Thanks for the invitation, but I'm perfectly happy where I am tonight." 
Whatever Garcia says makes him laugh. If you weren't sitting as close to him as you are you wouldn't have heard it. 
"Have fun. Bye," he says succinctly. He snaps his phone closed in one hand, the other dropping from your ear to your shoulder. It's heavy with a remorse you can't allow. "Sorry."
"Doesn't matter," you assure, tilting your head toward his hand and pretending to size him up. You don't know how to profile, but you're a good guess. 
"You're not telling me something." 
"No?" He blinks in surprise.
"No. You've been invited somewhere with your work friends, and you usually go. Why not tonight?" 
"I think that's obvious." 
"You don't have to flake on your friends for me, Aaron." 
He smiles as you say his name. "Like I told Garcia, I am perfectly happy where I am." 
You hide your face in his neck lest he see your doped up smile. "You have nice friends," you murmur, working your hands under the hem of his shirt. 
"I think you'd love Garcia after the infinitial terror." 
"I think I would too. She's good to you, after all. Makes me like her… Maybe one day we can all go out for drinks." 
You don't have to be a profiler to feel the way he tenses. 
"Yeah," he says. It sounds very much like Probably not. 
That's a strumming hurt. Aaron is so nice, so so nice, and he treats you like you're gold dust. He does all the movie boyfriend stuff like flowers, silver earrings on your birthday (with tiny diamonds!), dinner reservations at dauntingly fancy restaurants. And he does stuff you didn't know men did, like calling you near every night to make sure you had a good day, and praising even your smallest achievements, and leaving notes in places he knows you'll find them on hard days. You don't know how he knows when days are hard, he just does. 
You'd figured all of this stuff meant he must really like you, might even love you though he's yet to say it, and that's why his lack of enthusiasm stings. 
Why doesn't he want you to meet his friends? He's obviously very proud of what they do at the BAU. They're not the issue. 
It's you. 
You cuddle him as a pit forms in your chest. 
"You're tired?" he asks.
Funny how it's his comfort you crave when he's the one who's hurt your feelings. You're a little lopsided being upset with him, and you know if you tell him how you feel he'll try to make it up to you, but you're too afraid of the other alternative — a fight. Right now his arms are a sanctity you wouldn't trade for anything. You hope he feels the same. 
You're not sure anymore. 
"Yeah," you say roughly. 
Your eyes burn as he pats your back. "Let's go to bed, honey." 
You'll just… have to prove you're someone worth showing off. 
Your plan, loosely titled 'Get Aaron Hotchner to Show Me Off,' is going about as well as you'd thought it would. 
If Aaron doesn't want me to meet his friends there must be a reason. You've been thinking about it and it can't be a coincidence that he hadn't wanted you to return his paperwork a few weeks ago. That must've been something significant. 
But what? 
You start with your hair. Aaron has expressed a lovely and heaping handful of times that he thinks you have pretty hair. He plays with it often, usually when he's limp and tired from a long day. You've always taken care of it. Now you're going to the extreme — hair masks, hair appointments you can't afford, anything to make it look perfect. 
It doesn't work toward the plan, though your boyfriend certainly notices. 
"Your hair," is the very first thing he says when he sees you, stopping only in his smiling assessment to kiss your cheek in greeting. 
"Is it okay?" you ask, turning your face to one side. 
"More than okay. Do you want to go in?" 
So it's kind of a bust. But that's okay, you weren't expecting to get a haircut and magically be invited to team dinners. You persevere, and eventually you forget the plan for the night when Aaron promises to show you how much he likes your new look with a hand at the small of your back. 
Phase two, your clothes. 
You dress as nicely as you can but you're no fashion guru and you can't afford an entirely new wardrobe. You get a bunch of magazines and look for fall staples. What's in this year, and how do you style it? You buy a couple of pieces that fit your budget and try to work around them. 
Aaron's favourite are the new corduroy pants. They aren't a great fit. 
"They're too tight," you lament, pulling the fabric from your thighs where they hug snugly. They're a desaturated sort of burgundy, not bright by any means but a good 'pop of colour'. 
"I know," he says. 
You gawp at him, and when he gets his fingers on the buttons afterward, you break. 
"You like them?" you ask worriedly. 
"What makes you think I don't?" 
"Besides how eager you are to get them off of me?" 
He hooks two fingers in your belt loops and holds your gaze as he tugs them down. "I like them." 
A good time, but still no dice. You suppose a new look, besides looking smarter, doesn't actually prove your merit as a girlfriend. Maybe he wants something a little more concrete before he introduces you to people. Maybe things aren't as good for him as they are for you, and he doesn't see the point. 
That particular thought sparks a wave of panicked tears. 
The next time you see him, it's like he can tell. You wonder if he has x-ray vision, some sixth sense for tear stains that he has yet to tell you about. He's been gone for a few days in St. Louis, and when he'd come back he'd spent the weekend with Jack, so it's a whole seven days since the last time you saw him and your worries have festered. Not even his doting phone calls had kept the thought at bay. 
Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 
You open your door and there he is in a quarter zip with an overnight bag, matte suit cover draped over one arm. 
"Hi," you say, unsure. 
"Did I get uglier while I was away?" he asks seriously. 
You startle. "No, of course not." 
He smiles and meets you in the doorway, your head dipping back to accommodate. "I think I've had it too good," he says lightly, bringing a tentative hand to your cheek. "Are you okay?" 
You're trying to work out what he means, and when you do your heart skips. "Handsome!" you say urgently. "Hi, handsome. No, you didn't get uglier, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, and-" 
He kisses you. It's malaligned because of your parted lips, but it's good. You'd really missed him. 
"You're definitely still handsome," you murmur. 
"Doesn't count. I begged for it-" 
"No!" you deny, lifting on tiptoes to give him another kiss and stop his slander. "It does count because you're always handsome, I promise. I think I slept too much and miswired my brain when I woke up." 
"I don't mind that you didn't call me handsome," he says firmly, "now let me in. We have dinner to make." 
"Right, sorry."
Aaron frowns at you, then. It's weird. He frowns at his phone, at the TV, at nothing, but he doesn't frown at you. 
"Is something wrong?" he asks as you traverse down the hall. You hold your hands out for his suit and bag to take to your room and hang up, ignoring his question. He doesn't give them to you. "Is there?" 
"No." You smile as you say it. 
You're an awful liar, especially with him. He makes you more nervous than anyone because he's your boyfriend and because he's a literal human lie detector. 
"You didn't even try." 
You cover your face with both hands and groan dramatically, spinning around and away from him. You don't want him to see how flustered you are. 
"Don't make fun," you beg. 
"You're embarrassed." 
"Teach you that at the Bureau, do they?"  
You stop in the doorway of the kitchen, distracted by your own racing thoughts when suddenly there are two long arms needling around your waist and pulling you backward. You gasp a laugh and squirm uselessly to escape. 
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. 
You tip your head back, hands falling from your face in surprise. "What for, handsome?" 
His laugh fans out over your face but when he speaks again there's no humour there, only sincerity, "For being gone so long." 
"Well don't be. You can't exactly help it, Agent Hotchner," you hum. 
"Oh, don't." 
"Going out and saving the world takes time. I knew that when I met you, 'n I know it now. You don't have to say sorry." 
"I'm not apologising for my work. I'm apologising that we've," — his nose presses into the highest point of your cheek — "been apart." 
"I did miss you," you relent. 
He presses his lips to your cheek. "I missed you too." 
It's a nice distraction. You'd missed one another, and now you're together. You forget for a while what you'd worried, and only when he leaves again do you remember. 
Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 
You're not stupid enough to think Hotch is using you for anything, or that he's insincere. You're level-headed, though. His affection for you isn't necessarily permanent no matter how genuine. 
You don't want to be overbearing. The offers start slow. 
I can wash that for you. Of course I'm sure, I'm great with whites. 
Maybe I could make you lunch tomorrow. You can take it in, spare yourself the federal cafeteria. 
Yeah, I got them shined for you. They were looking a little dull at the toes. 
"Do you want me to press these?" you ask. 
Aaron looks up from where he's sitting in bed. You'd been out on a foray to the bathroom and have come to a stop by his bedroom door where a pair of black slacks hang in wait for the morning. 
He pushes a darling pair of reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. "No." 
"Are you sure? It won't take five minutes." 
"I'll do it in the morning." 
"I can do it for you, then. Just wake me up," you say, pushing back the sheets on the empty side of his bed. Your socked foot bumps his thigh as you pull up your legs. "What are you reading?" 
He puts his book on the nightstand, takes off his glasses. It's too bad. He really suits them.
"I want to talk to you about something." 
You laugh and slide down onto the flat of your back. 
"What?" he asks, confused, the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes. 
"It's unlike you to start that way. You always cut around the fat." You bring his bed sheets up to your nose and squint at him. "'M I in trouble?" 
"Depends." 
"On what?" 
"You know I care about you." 
Your heart somersaults. That feels very much like a break-up opener, and he must see your anxiety on your face. He wrangles your hand from under the sheets and leans over you, his face in your eyeline, his fingers massaging yours until they ache in the good way. 
"Do you know how much?" he asks. 
"Is that a trick?" 
"No." 
You wait in case there's something he's going to add. When there's nothing, you pull the sheets to your chin and tamp down your perplexed pouting. 
"Yeah, I know how much." 
"I'd like to tell you how much." He pulls your joined hands toward his jaw. "I know I'm not always here, but I'm always thinking of you. In roundabout ways." 
"What ways?" you ask. Self-indulgence.
Aaron Hotchner indulges you. 
"I see," — he kisses your hand — "trees. I've seen a thousand trees, but when I see the bigger ones I wish you could see them too." 
It's a dropping sensation, near uncomfortable, that's how gutted his confession makes you feel. "You do?" 
"Sometimes women walk past me and I swear that it's you because they smell like your perfume. Flowers growing through cracks in the sidewalk. Lights through the jet window." It's the kind of stuff you like to point out to him when you're together. 
He stares at you, a long, reassuring look. 
He deserves a better reply, but all you can say is, "I think of you all the time, too." 
"I love that you want to take care of me, but you don't need to wear yourself out." 
You bite the inside of your bottom lip. So that's what this is about. Aaron has profiled you, and now he's being the gentleman that he is and assuaging your fears. 
"I'm not," you say quickly. 
He understands that you're saying I'm not wearing myself out rather than I'm not taking care of you. You are taking care of him, the best that you can, the best that he'll allow. 
"I can press my own pants," he says, leaning down for a kiss. "I can shine my own shoes." He kisses you again. You screw your eyes closed as the warmth of his breath heats your cupid's bow. "I can do my own laundry." He pulls back, dropping your hand in favour of your neck. His thumb pushes against your windpipe gently, palm hot over your skin. "I'll accept the lunches, if you're sure you don't mind making them." 
You feel as excited as you did the very first time he touched you, chest full of a dizzying pleasure, heart bump-bump-bumping a racing rhythm. His thumb strokes a lazy quarter circle into your neck. He can probably feel your pulse, see the way your eyes have blown. 
"I love making them," you say, breathless in earnest.
"The team think I'm spoiled." 
"You aren't spoiled." You're adored, you want to say. You cup his cheek instead. "You'd be spoiled if I brought them by everyday." 
Aaron doesn't stay with you and you don't stay with him enough to make him lunch everyday. He might get one or two a week, and that's when he's home. 
"Wouldn't that be nice," he mutters, his fingers pushing between your neck and the pillow underneath. 
You hike up on to your elbows slowly to avoid headbutting him. "Well, I could." 
His easy, loving smile flattens. "No." 
"I wouldn't mind. My lunch break is super long and it only takes me ten minutes to get there. We could have lunch together." 
"That's not going to work." 
"Okay." You wish you could take it as calmly as he says it. You sound choked up. You are choked up. 
"Sweetheart, the office is a war zone. Half the time I'm not there." 
"I get it," you say, dropping flat onto your back again. 
"Sweetheart." 
"Handsome," you mirror, putting on your best unaffected smile. 
You can't hold it very long, his concerned brows too much to deal with. You turn your head to the left and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, throwing at least half of your expression into darkness. 
Aaron doesn't give up. Does he ever? He cups your cheek and pulls you back to face him. 
"I can't promise any lunch dates. But I was thinking we'd go out for dinner next week, Friday," he begins hopefully, "somewhere nice." 
It feels like an apology and you're desperate to take it. 
"I don't need somewhere nice, s'long as you're there 'n not in Kansas, or Colorado, or Idaho, or New Jersey-" 
He hums and drops his head until his nose lies against your own. "Gonna go through all fifty?" 
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Hotchner?" 
"I love your voice," he says agreeably. 
Disarmed, you let him charm you, and you let him push it all out of your mind. Plan foiled, your fears fall on the backburner for a third time. 
His fourth rejection is the first that feels entirely intentional, though you won't know until later. 
Mostly because Aaron pushes you. 
Far from cruel, the two of you are actually out walking in the city when he forces you into an alleyway, your fancy drink sloshing down the front of your sweater. 
You laugh in surprise and almost roll your ankle, hands clinging to his coat to stop an unfortunate fall. 
"Holy shit, Hotchner, learn to be a gentleman," you say as he presses up against you. "What are you doing? I'm soaked, you're gonna ruin your sleeves." 
He kisses you hard. It's a surprise, your head jumping back against the wall to find his hand already there to protect it. 
It's worth noting that Aaron is a sweetheart in practically every aspect of life. He once apologised after having walked in on you changing, which is ridiculous because most of the nights where you're together he insists on getting you some sort of undressed (even if it's just to help you into your pyjamas).
Needless to say, he's never kissed you like this. Your emotions spike so suddenly you laugh into his mouth, a girlish peel of giggles that you'll regret afterward but can't stop for the life of you. 
He shushes you. "Sorry," he whispers, as ill-composed as you've ever heard him. "Sorry, just-" He cuts you both off with another bruising kiss. 
Your laughter fades into sighs and little gasps for air. Somewhere near the alleyway opening a group of people pass by, a jovial series of cheers and friendly laughter trailing behind them. Aaron presses you further into the wall behind, and slowly, slowly winds down. Weirdly, you think his last couple of pecks feel sorry, softer and sweeter. 
Your lips buzz. 
"Why'd you buy me that fancy drink if you were gonna tip it all over me?" you ask good-naturedly when he finally pulls back. 
"You looked too nice today." His deadpan voice wars with the smile on his face. "I'm sorry. We'll go find you something to change into." 
"Was it really that important that you kiss me right then?" you ask, feigning disdain. 
He looks out toward the main street again. "Yes. Where do you want to go? There's a Nordstrom." 
You take a sip of your drink, unsurprised when he takes your hand and starts to lead you toward the department stores. "Have you ever been inside of a Nordstrom?" 
"I'm sure I'll figure it out."
— 
The fifth time is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Or the brick. It feels heavier than a strand of straw. It's technically already come to pass, so it's an invisible brick. 
You're out for coffee by yourself which really means you're out for something sweet, bundled up in a coat and scarf to fight the night-time chill. 
"Thank you," you tell the barista, accepting your drink and receipt with a smile. 
You turn around and almost walk straight into a pretty dark-haired woman with really nice hair. You make a note to tell Aaron about it when you see him next, not because he'll care but because he likes to hear what you've been thinking about. And right now, all you can think about is her feathered bangs. 
I want nice bangs, you think offhandedly. 
"I'm sorry," you say, trying to move around her. 
She steps into your path. 
"Sorry," you say again. 
She's squinting at you, thin eyebrows peeking out from behind her hair. "Sorry, have we met?" she asks. 
You try not to be too hasty, but you're not sure you've ever seen her. You stare at her as she stares at you, and you get a tiny inkling of familiarity, but it's gone as quick as it comes. 
"I'm really sorry, I don't think so," you murmur, tilting your head to one side. 
She bites her lip, let's it go. "Oh!" she says excitedly, voice bright with triumph. "Oh oh oh! I know who you are, you're Hotch's mysterious girlfriend!" 
Your smile turns quizzical. You know nearly everybody calls Aaron 'Hotch'. Whenever you try it he either gives you the silent treatment or covers your mouth with his hand. 
"I'm Emily Prentiss, I work in the BAU," she explains rapidly, shoving her purse under her hand to offer it for a handshake. 
You do the same and shake her hand. Introducing yourself feels awkward. She knows you. You don't have a clue who she is. Only- 
"Oh, I know who you are now, I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" you say contritely. "I've seen photos of you and the team together. It's really nice to meet you." 
She nods. "It's nice to meet you too. I have to say, we've been dying to meet you. We even have a betting pool on what you're like, because Hotch barely says a thing about you." 
You try not to look as devastated as you feel, re-wrapping your fingers around your cup. "No?" 
"We didn't even know what you looked like until we saw you the other day. We came looking to say hi and you'd disappeared." 
You lick your dry lips. "The other day?" 
"Yeah, last Friday. We were out for impromptu drinks, celebrating a case. You know, you should come with sometime. It would be fun." 
Emily talks each word with an undertone of good humour. She's stunning, bubbly, and her hair flows around her face with every movement. 
"He really doesn't talk about me?" 
Emily drops into girl code niceties, backtracking. "I mean, not too often. We catch him smiling at his phone and hear your voice sometimes when you call. He seems happy. Well, happy as Hotch can seem." She swallows. "He's a private creature."
He doesn't talk about me. 
You pretend to check your watch. 
"It was really good to meet you," you say, voice airy with a feigned nonchalance. 
"Yeah, of course. Super nice," Emily says. 
You smile at her. It's more like a grimace. By the time you're outside of the coffee shop you're too upset to care, a humiliated shock of tears brewing behind your achy eyes. 
You hold your cup to your chest and unzip your purse to tuck the receipt inside, trying to maintain some control. There's a folded note inside, thick cardstock quartered. 
You take it out. Your fingers tremble with offended adrenaline. 
You're beautiful. 
Short, sweet, extremely Aaron Hotchner. Too bad you can't believe it. 
Emily Prentiss being out and about means the BAU are done for the night, though whether your workaholic boyfriend got the memo is anyone's best guess. You're not sure if it's better or worse if he's in work when you call. You're so upset that you can't help yourself. 
"Hi, honey." 
"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" you ask, staving off tears with all your willpower. 
"I wouldn't write it if I didn't mean it. That one took you a while to find, I was-" 
"Are you sure?" 
"...Are you okay?" 
You glare up at the dark sky rather than answer, blinking hard to force down your tears. You really don't wanna cry, but it's been a bad day and meeting Emily has made it worse. No matter how hard you try to think otherwise, all signs point to Aaron being ashamed of you. Embarrassed to be with you. He's hiding your relationship from everybody. 
"Am I- Is it my clothes? My job?" 
"What's wrong with your clothes?" 
"You tell me, detective." 
You're getting angry. He's- he's lying, or he's messing with you. He's making fun of you. At least that's how it feels. 
"Where are you right now?" he asks. You can picture him shrugging on his suit jacket, putting his files in order to come and meet you. 
You don't want to see him. "I'm at the coffee shop by your apartment. I actually ran into somebody, and I'm feeling very well-informed." A first tear bumps down your cheek. You ignore it. 
"I don't understand." 
"I don't understand! What am I doing wrong?" You bite your tongue in last ditch efforts to remain intact, but the tears won't hold off any longer. You swallow a sob. "What's wrong with me?" 
"Nothing. Nothing, honey, nothing is wrong with you." 
You wipe your wet face with mean hands. 
"Stay where you are. I'll come and meet you." 
"No. I don't wanna see you." 
"Honey-" 
"Leave me alone, Aaron." 
You hang up. You walk for a while, feeling as though steam is rising off of your flushed skin with every clumsy step. It had been a short phone call and already you can't remember what you said, all you can feel is angry, and then that runs out and all you can do is cry. 
You've never felt incredibly attractive. Aaron makes you feel better than that — he has the uncanny ability to inspire self-confidence with a loaded look alone. He can smile at you and your skin feels like it's glowing. 
So why doesn't that translate? If he thinks you're so pretty, why does he insist on hiding you away?
Because that day, he'd seen his friends. He could've introduced you but he took you down the alley and kissed you so you wouldn't be seen. That's not too busy: That's secretive. 
That kiss. You fooled yourself into thinking you must've looked irresistible. Fuck. You went home that night thinking you were the best thing since sliced bread. 
"I'm so stupid," you mutter, sniffling. 
Your self deprecation is muffled by the sound of a slowing car. You don't look up. There are two possibilities for who it is, and you don't want to deal with either. 
The car parks and then you do look up. Despite how mad you are you're not suicidal, and Aaron's given you extensive coaching on sex trafficking. 
It's him. Shocker. 
You're half-expecting him to reprimand you. You didn't look up until I parked. You know it takes five seconds to snatch and incapacitate someone? 
He looks haphazardly put together. Suit jacket on but tie loosened, he rounds the hood of his car and joins you on the sidewalk. You don't want to play games with him. He really doesn't need it, he didn't sign up for it, and drama isn't your style, but you're sick of this. 
"You want to tell me what you're thinking?" he asks, standing an amicable two feet away, hands at his hips.
"I'm really mad." 
"What else?" 
"I'm thinking," you say, looking down at your cold hands, "that you… That you're…" You rub your cheek into your shoulder to hide a fresh tear. "I don't know, Aaron. I'm thinking lots of things." 
"Do you want to think about them in the car?" he asks. 
Do you want to talk about it?
You don't want to talk about it. You don't like crying in front of him on a good day. 
You're pretty sure he'll combust on the spot if he knows you're walking home alone in the dark and distracted. 
You get in the car. He has the good sense not to touch your shoulders like he normally would. 
You buckle as soon as you've closed the passenger side door. "I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at your knees. 
"Let's forget that, for now." He turns the key but doesn't pull out. "Tell me what's upset you and I'll explain." 
"I met Emily Prentiss." 
He looks at you out of the corner of his eye.
"She told me that you don't talk about me. Ever. That they didn't even know what I looked like." 
You know he's listening but he keeps his eyes on the road, and you chance a look at the side of his face. He doesn't seem mad. 
"I don't talk about you often," he says. "But that doesn't mean never… It's true that they didn't know what you look like." 
"Until last week, when they saw us together and you pulled me into an alley so they couldn't see me." 
"Yes." 
Your lower lip trembles. "Do you see why that would upset me?" You're asking genuinely. 
"Yeah, honey." 
Your head jolts up. He's diverting his gaze from the road to you intermittently, offering up a regretful grimace. The oncoming headlights splash over his work worn face. 
"Then why are you doing this? What's so wrong with me that you won't even admit we're together?" 
"Nothing is wrong with you. I'm not ashamed of you," he says firmly, volume rising. 
"Then why?" 
His eyebrows pull together. "You're the best person I've ever met that isn't my son, and I selfishly don't want to share you yet. I also don't want to scare you off." 
You pull your sleeves over your hands and turn in your seat, wiping your damp cheeks as he continues. 
"My job is hard, and it's dangerous. It has jeopardised the safety and wellbeing of people I love before. So no, I'm not eager to introduce you to my world. The more intertwined with my life that you become, the more danger I put you in, and…" The car slows down again. He turns to look at you. "And I like that I'm the only one who knows you like this.
"I have been hiding you. I have. But it was a," — his tone turns wry — "misguided attempt at keeping you all to myself. Safe, and to myself." 
You're finding it difficult to be mad with him. 
He's finding it difficult to maintain his poker face. A fat tear rolls down your cheek and you're not sure what it's made of, fatigue or relief or plain hurt, whatever it is he doesn't like it. He pulls over. 
You hold still as he pinches the tear off of your chin. 
"How long have you felt like this?" 
"Like what?" you ask wetly. 
"Like this." He opens his hand against your cheek. It encompasses your face; you lean in, hungry for reassurance. 
"I don't know." 
"This is why you changed your hair. Your clothes. And started making my lunch." 
You cover his hand with your own. "I actually really like making your lunches." 
You stare at each other until suddenly you're laughing, sniffly, short of breath. Aaron joins in soon after. He always sounds so surprised to be laughing.
"I'm glad," he says when your laughter has abated, pinky and ring finger caressing down the slope of your cheek. "I really like having them. Rossi can't hide how jealous he is." 
"They know about the lunches?" 
His mindless petting pauses. "They know about the lunches. You're not a secret. I'm… selfish with the details. I'm selfish." Aaron takes back his hand. "I'm sorry." 
You take as deep a breath as you can. "Okay." 
"Yeah?" 
"Mm. Can we go home?" 
His eyebrows jump and swiftly smooth again. "Yeah, we can go home." He chucks your chin and gets the car moving again. 
You watch him drive. 
When you get home, he doesn't mind reassuring you some more. Actually, it's like he needs to do it. You'd love to say that it's overkill and that his low murmurings of praise are unnecessary, but you can't. 
"You're lovely," he says seriously across two plates of pasta. Again through the mirror when you're brushing your teeth, and again when you've curled into his chest for the night. You're lovely. Nothing that needs hiding. 
You hear him on the phone early in the morning, half asleep. 
"Hey, Dave. Yeah. Okay. Uh… No, that's fine." He laughs under his breath. "Yeah, if she was awake I'd ask her to make you one. I think she would… Okay. See you in forty." 
You bury your tired face into his pillows and beam. 
+1 
Aaron's office is terrifyingly hectic. You can see already that the bullpen is full to bursting with agents, including but not limited to his special team of profilers. There's the distinct smell of coffee, sharp and burning, and then the underlay of printer ink, new paper. 
You can't believe you're here. 
You're not brave enough to introduce yourself to his team, and half aren't at their desks anyways. You hover in the doorway until somebody needs to get past you, taking a reluctant step inside.
You shouldn't wait for Aaron. You should be brave. You're a grown up, and you're bringing your grown up partner his very grown up lunch. You'd wanted desperately to do this. The least that you can do is do it by yourself. 
You've scrapped most of the fall staples but kept the burgundy pants Aaron likes so much at his request. They feel insanely tight on your thighs, as does your collar. In fact, the room has definitely shrunk since you got here. 
Like an idiot, Aaron says your name loud and clear, standing with a hand on the railings at the top of the instep. You hadn't even noticed him emerging from his office.
His voice demands — commands — attention. People turn in their seats, first toward him, and then toward you. 
All eyes on me. 
You don't run but you don't walk either, weaving through desk chairs and people looking a mix of busy and curious.
"You're being cruel," you say as you approach him, a brown paper bag held close to your abdomen. 
"Hi, honey," he says. He wears a knowing smile, all dark and tall and handsome as he starts down the stairs to meet you. 
"Don't punish me." 
"Is that what you'd call this?" he asks, hand quick to clasp your shoulder, glueing you in place so he can kiss your forehead.
And yes, this is what you'd wanted. The doting boyfriend not just at home but at work, too.
That doesn't mean it isn't really, really embarrassing. 
"Is everyone looking at me?" you murmur. 
He slips his arm behind your shoulders to walk you up the stairs. "Yes." His voice drops lower. "At one place specifically, I imagine." 
"What part is that, Agent?" 
He laughs and opens his office door to beckon you inside. "Don't start." 
༺༻
my first hotch fic omg. i did a big character study beforehand but i doubt it's entirely in character, hotch is a difficult character to write for! (and im only at season 4). but this was so fun and he's hot so it's worth it. if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging! i promise it makes a difference to me (and also i love seeing what people thought). thank you for reading!! ♥
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