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#but it turns out the reason why I have no energy ever
lilyisclueless · 11 hours
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When they realize they're in love - Gojo Satoru
How I imagine the boys get hit with the realization that they love you. Satoru's turn
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader
Tags: Fluff, that's about it
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He isn’t sure when the two of you got as close as you did. He’s known you for years, being one of the first ones to greet you when you transferred from Kyoto to be a teacher here, and ever since it’s been a gradual growth. It was a steady growth, but so slow that by the time he picked up on the fact the two of you were close friends, his only option was to accept that after years of goofing around and not allowing anyone close, he’s finally made another friend. A serious friend; not just another comrade putting up with him.
That realization happened a few years ago. It was a surprise but he accepted it. Since then the two of you have grown even closer. He’s grown to admire you, and you’re one of the very, very few people that he had any ounce of respect for. It wasn’t like you were incredibly strong, although you definitely could hold your own, so he wasn’t sure why.
Maybe it was the way you understood his ideals, how you wholeheartedly supported them and defended him. When he had told you that he wanted to let the vessel of Sukana live, you immediately agreed to vouch for him. You didn’t question him, didn’t ask if he lost his mind. You didn’t make a face or doubt him. He didn’t have to convince you. When he asked why you were so quick to agree, you smiled up at him and told him that you trusted his judgment completely, and if he was wrong about Itadori; you trusted he would deal with him.
That had left a weird fuzzy feeling in his chest he couldn’t shake off for the next couple days.
Maybe the admiration came from how you took care of the students. You care about them the same way a mother would about their children. You would surprise them with sweets and gifts, always making sure everyone got their favorite. If they needed someone to talk to, you were the one they went to. He’ll never forget the way you broke down when he had to break the news that Itadori had died. That was the first time he held you in his arms, and if he didn’t want to kill the higher-ups before, he certainly did then when he was feeling you fall to pieces between his fingers.
Naturally, he didn’t hide it from you when he woke up. Maybe it was the fear of what happened with a certain someone in the past, but his soul didn’t feel at ease until he saw the way you melted in relief at seeing their student standing again.
Or maybe it was the way you matched his energy. Or the way you can soothe his emotions with ease. Maybe because you could take his jokes, and throw them right back at him. Or how you weren’t afraid to goof off, claiming the world was too bleak to be so serious all the time. Sometimes you would have to rein him back in, but only when he needed it.
There were a lot of reasons for him to respect and admire you, but none of them felt quite right when he asked himself why.
“I know I’m always telling you to shut up, but it’s weird when you actually do it,” you speak up, breaking his line of thoughts. He glances down at you, the two of you walking side by side to find a soda machine. It was rare for the two of you to go out for any other reason than a mission or supervise the kids, but today was the rare exception. He glanced down at your outfit, and he couldn’t help but think you looked cute, but you spoke up again before he could dwell on that, “What’s on your mind?”
His smile twitches, the corner of his lips tugging into a playful smile. He looks away from you, staring straight ahead as he hums in thought at your question. You could barely see his blue eyes peak from over his sunglasses, but you definitely could make out the teasing glint in them.
“I’m just wondering why a girl like you chooses to spend her time with a guy like me.” You felt your cheek grow a little warm, and you’re quick to look away with a nervous chuckle. Where was he going with this? “After all, I’m the strongest and you’re the weakest. How are we supposed to-“
He’s cut off with a small ‘oof’ when you give his shoulder a playful punch, completely throwing him off guard. You hadn’t moved your body to indicate you were planning on trying to hit him, simply swung your arm straight to the side.
He stopped walking then, rubbing at the spot you’d hit him. Not because it hurt, he was Gojo Satoru after all. He could handle a little punch that held no real intent behind it. No, because he was shocked you actually managed to hit him.
He’s allowed you to touch him before of course, so you don’t realize how significant that moment was. Because every time you’ve touched him in the past, he’s allowed it. He’s put his infinity down purposely. This time? You simply skipped through. He felt the moment your hand touched it and simply kept going.
The last person who could ever do that was…
You stopped moving, shuffling to face him with a curious expression on your face. He could still see a hint of red on your cheeks, and you tilted your head to the side to raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me I wounded you with that little punch? Who’s the strongest one now?”
He wishes his heart would stop pounding in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt flustered. He forced himself to resume his walking, purposely reaching down and ruffling your hair when he walked past you. As he expected, you immediately start complaining and become distracted trying to put those pretty strands back into place.
His long strides put him a good distance away, and he laughs when you have to jog to catch up. The two of you fall into a playful banter, which eventually trailed off to a comfortable silence.
No wonder it didn’t feel right to say he respected and admired you for all that you do. He respected and admired you because he loves you.
He wonders when he fell in love with you, but he has a feeling it was just like their friendship - so gradual that he’ll never be able to pinpoint it. That’s okay though. He’s tired of taking it slow with you. Soon, he decides, he's going to take you on a date.
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hanni-bae44 · 2 days
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Title: Player #10 (Sungchan)
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Pairing- Sungchan x fem!reader
Genre- implied university au, soccer themed, fluff
Word Count- 1.5k
Summary- Falling into the arms of a cute stranger after a soccer game was definitely not your proudest moment. You were a sweaty mess and yet the cute stranger didn’t seem to mind one bit as he continued to befriend you and even ask you out on a date.
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You took soccer seriously.
After having lost the last game, you were more competitive now than ever. The game was getting close to an end and your legs were killing you but you didn’t waver, not once losing focus. It seemed like hours of relentless running and having your eyes on the ball before the scores turned in your favor. With a bit of shoulder, you managed to get to the ball, and sent it straight into the net and past the amateur goalkeeper.
You soaked in the glory before glancing back at your friends in the bleachers. Just their presence alone gave you the energy to keep going. Although you were tired, it didn’t show. You were still riding the high of the win as you huddled with your teammates to cheer.
After taking out your mouthguard, you ran towards your friends in excitement. As you neared them, you found yourself losing balance. Your cleats never liked the bumpy gravel and they definitely didn’t like them today. You thought you were gonna hit the ground when someone caught you with both arms.
“Sorry, it’s just hard to walk in cleats,” you gave the stranger an apologetic smile. You froze for a second when you met his eyes. He was cute. So damn cute. And here you were a sweaty mess. 
“And yet you ran in cleats,” the stranger joked, “player number 10 should be more careful.”
You looked down at your jersey, feeling heat rush up to your cheeks. Surely player number 10 should’ve been more careful indeed.
Your friends then waved to you, calling out your name. They congratulated you and gave you a high five before introducing you to the stranger. “I see you’ve met Sungchan,” Wonbin smiled. 
“Yeah, I have.” You looked back at Sungchan and gave him a smile. “Are you guys friends?”
Turns out, they were.
You conversed with your friends for a bit on the track before deciding to go to a pizza place to celebrate. For some reason, Sungchan sat next to you. It started off a bit awkward since you weren't good with strangers but then it got more comfortable when your friends started to share embarrassing stories of Sungchan. While waiting for the food, Sungchan and you got lost in your own conversation. “So how long have you played soccer?” he began. 
His question took you by surprise. It wasn’t a loaded question by any means but when the boy asking you was cute, you felt immense pressure to say the right thing and not stutter.
Nervous, you rambled. Then, you asked him the same thing. And turns out, Sungchan was a soccer player too, but at a rival school. He played midfielder and it made you more drawn to him. You wondered why you’ve never seen his face before today, especially since he seemed so close with your friends. It made you curious about him.
As he told you more about himself, you realized that soccer practically ran in his bloodline. His whole family loved soccer, and as he told you more about his life, you began to realize that you and him had more in common than you thought. He was nothing like the boys you knew at your school. He was different. Like a breath of fresh air.
Before parting ways with him that night, he made sure to give you his number. He could’ve simply just entered his number into your phone, but no. He wanted to be extra and write his number on the back of your hand. Your friends teased you about this after Sungchan left but you didn’t think much of it.
In fact, you didn’t think much of Sungchan’s friendly actions that night for the rest of the week. It wasn’t until Wonbin suggested that you text Sungchan that you did. What started off as a simple “hey” turned into much more. Your days soon began to fill with Sungchan and he’d become the first person you thought of you when you woke up. It was just a friendship but as his texts turned into late night FaceTime calls, you began to realize how hard you were falling. Feelings had emerged and it was treading dangerously as it blurred the line of friends.
Despite the fact that your whole friendship with him began with soccer, he has never once asked you to attend his games. By the time he had asked, you were already deep into your thoughts. Were you two just friends? Was he just being nice? Or did he like you too?
Regardless of how you felt, you didn’t show it.
The night before the game, he called you on FaceTime and expressed his concerns for the upcoming game. He seemed apprehensive and while you tried to assure him that he'd do great, he still didn't seem so sure. You could tell in his eyes that something else was worrying him but you didn't press on it.
"How about this?," you began. "If you win tomorrow, I'll treat you to whatever you want."
Sungchan smiled at that. "And if I lose?"
"You won't." You were confident.
The next day, you came to his game alone since the rest of your friends were busy. Your eyes were glued on Sungchan from the moment you sat down on the bleachers. You didn’t think he could look even more breathtaking as he did when he was on the field. While he ran, you focused on his skill since it was your first time watching him play. As a result, it took you a while to realize his jersey number, but when you did, your hand flew to your mouth.
His jersey number was number 10 too.
You made a mental note to ask Sungchan about it later then focused back on the game. He was a pro, having sent the ball straight into the net multiple times, scoring each time he kicked. He was relentless and had good tactic. Any good player could look at his agility and the way he carried the ball across the field, and could tell that he knew what he was doing, and he was damn good at it. All those years of practice was evident in the way he carried the team.
During the game, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was mesmerizing and even more so when he scored the winning shot. 
After the cheers died down and everyone started to leave, you came down to meet Sungchan and greeted him with a huge smile. “See I knew you’d win the game! Also why didn’t you tell me your jersey number was number 10 too? I could’ve worn mine and we could’ve been matching,” you joked, nudging his arm.
“Truthfully? I wanted to see if you’d notice,” he smiled at you. “That's fate don’t you think? That we’re both number 10?”
“I suppose so,” you smiled back at him. Even though he was sweaty and out of breath, he was still so attractive.
He then rubbed at his nape, seemingly nervous all of a sudden. “So I was just thinking since I won the game and all. Instead of you treating me, how about I take you out instead? And if you're free tomorrow maybe we could go on a date too?"
The world fell silent as his words replayed in your head. Did you even hear him right? He had been so shy up until now, that you weren’t even sure if you were daydreaming or not. Despite being taken aback, a smile creeped at the corner of your lips when you finally spoke up. “I'd like that.”
You didn’t miss how his eyes lit up. Written on his face was admiration and the one confirmation you needed to know that he liked you too.
“Where should we eat now then? I’m starving.” Sungchan didn’t look much at you afterwards, and rambled about food as you both walked to his car.
Despite his confidence from asking you out on a date earlier, you could sense that he was still nervous. Tense too. You could feel it in the air when it got a little too quiet. And especially when his hands would brush against yours. You could tell he was holding back when he didn’t take the initiative to hold your hand and so when the air was silent and he least expected it, you locked your fingers with his, taking him by surprise.
He didn’t say anything nor look at you but based off how red the tips of his ears were, you could tell he was flustered. Sungchan was so shy sometimes that it made him even more adorable. You wondered how tomorrow's date would go as you walked alongside him.
His bangs no longer stuck to his forehead and his skin was now glowing from the post sweat. He was breathtaking and the moonlight only did him justice as it illuminated the slope of his nose, his rosy cheeks, and his long eyelashes. You didn’t even realize how long you were staring at him until he licked his lips and cleared his throat, turning to face you.
“So,” he began softly. His voice was barely above a whisper yet it pierced through the silence. “Hotpot?”
“Sounds great,” you smiled. He was truly so cute.
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downtofragglerock · 23 hours
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Ok this Makuta profile is going to be a bit different than the past ones, there's only one today, but for good reason
I didn't just want to fill up the Brotherhood's ranks with random oc ideas, so I searched around for some tertiary stuff that I could incorporate. There wasn't that much that was workable, but I found a few things. Obviously one of the places I looked was g2, because if Transformers can take characters invented in later incarnations and reincorporate them back into their g1, why can't Bionicle do the same?
Unfortunately Bionicle g2's storytelling and short lifespan means there's not much to work with, but I made do, and now let's look at the story of Makuta Kulta.
Kulta was for certain one of the more middling members of the Brotherhood, certainly not at the bottom of the barrel like Spiriah, but there was no chance he'd ever be in Miserix or later Teridax's personal circle. Kulta knew this fact and absolutely hated it, and thusly sought ways to greatly increase his own power. Eventually, he seemed to have found it.
Okoto was a rather remote island in the Matoran Universe, mountainous with a healthy diversity of biomes and a steady population of Matoran. Okoto did have one particularly interesting feature, either due to some technical glitch in the GSR's mechanics or deliberately designed so by the Great Beings in service of some esoteric experiment, the island was supercharged with elemental energy, from the landscape, to the rahi, and even the inhabitants. It was this feature that caught Kulta's eye when he learned of it. An island positively overflowing with energy? Well he just had to see that.
Since the island was quite remote, Kulta was able to set up shop and begun looking into this phenomenon without much fuss. The results spoke for themselves and Kulta became far stronger than he'd been before. He then began to crave even more power and came up with various ways to try and achieve it. This included using his Tryna in conjunction with this energy boost to create an army of undead warriors, hiring out the Dark Hunter Umarak to hunt and capture some of the island's more elementally-supercharged rahi so he could study them and apply their particular manners of power absorption to himself, and even coming up with the concept of a "Mask of Ultimate Power", a Kanohi that could wield multiple elemental powers at once. Kulta, however, was not a skilled mask maker, and had to forcefully conscript the Okoto Matoran Ekimu, a skilled mask maker and unbeknownst to all and even themselves an Av-Matoran that the OOMN had mind wiped and spirited away, to make it.
Worried that some Matoran might get away and tell the greater universe about what he was doing, Kulta created dangerous rahi to terrorize the population and keep them from leaving. He wasn't very good at naming them though, content with just calling them skull spiders and "beasts". The Matoran got fed up with this and, unable to call upon Toa to help them, sent their strongest and most skilled to try and stop Kulta. Narmoto, Korgot, Vizuna, Nilkuu, Kivoda, and Izotor accepted the task and went underway. While on their journey though, they came across a fissure of elemental energy that struck and supercharged them, transforming the Matoran protectors into a Toa team, the Toa Okoto.
The Toa Okoto fought off the skull spiders and their "lord", tussled with the Umarak and freed his captives, came to blows with the elemental beasts, and destroyed Kulta's undead army, allowing those restless souls to finally sleep. However, when they finally made it to Kulta's inner sanctum, they were too late. The Mask of Ultimate Power had been finished and Kulta had put it on, granting him even greater power and transforming his body into a massive titanic form. Joined by Ekimu, the Toa engaged in a fierce battle with Kulta, who beat them down with ease. Just when it looked like all hope was lost however, Kulta seized up. As it turns out, a mask with that many different elemental energies running through it isn't exactly stable. The mask shattered, and the resulting energy blast knocked the Toa and Ekimu back, and caused Kulta to explode, setting his Antidermis on fire and killing him. The Toa were victorious, Umarak fled back to the Shadowed One, and any straggling threats were defeated, ushering Okoto into a new golden age.
When word eventually got out of what happened on Okoto, the Brotherhood, as this was long before their deception was known to the larger universe, denied all knowledge of what Kulta had done and disavowed him, claiming the Makuta had been a renegade. The lie was quite easy to sell, as it was partly true, Kulta had kept all of his going ons a secret to the rest of the Brotherhood. In private, Teridax was quite glad Kulta had gotten himself killed, as when he thought over things like a vast undead army and a "Mask of Ultimate Power", only one word came to mind: Treason
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paterday · 8 months
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I should draw morepalmer and Roland… for science.
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hobisexually · 10 months
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x
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pucksandpower · 12 days
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Newsflash
Charles Leclerc x reporter!Reader
Summary: after two years as a paddock correspondent, you’re convinced that Charles Leclerc hates your guts for no apparent reason … but maybe everything is not what it seems
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“Wake up, Y/N. It’s race day!”
Your colleague, Natalie, bursts into your hotel room without knocking, as usual. You groan and pull the covers over your head, not ready to face the chaos that is sure to ensue in the paddock.
“Come on, sleepyhead! We have to be at the track by seven this morning for pre-race meetings,” Natalie says, yanking the duvet off you.
“Alright, alright, I’m up!” You grumble, slowly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”
“5:30. Which reminds me, I need coffee,” Natalie says, already headed for the door. “Meet me in the lobby in 20!”
You spend the next 19 minutes hastily getting ready — putting on minimal makeup, throwing on your favorite jumpsuit, and frantically gathering up notes and gear for the day. You take one last glance in the mirror, trying to smooth down your bedhead, before resigning to just throw a cap on over the mess.
Hustling down to the lobby, there’s a rush of personnel all around — mechanics, engineers, PR reps, and media darting about with coffees and laptops and headsets already in place. You spot Natalie nursing a large black coffee and beeline over.
“Ready to do this?” She asks with a grin.
“As I’ll ever be,” you reply with a shrug. The truth is, the nerves are already bubbling up in your stomach. You love your job as an F1 reporter for Sky Sports, but the pressure and scrutiny is immense.
The two of you pile into a car with the rest of the broadcast crew and head to the track. On the ride, you glance over your meticulous notes on the teams and drivers one more time, paying special attention to Ferrari.
Ever since you started covering F1 two years ago, one driver has basically refused to give you the time of day — Charles Leclerc.
For some reason, whenever you are around, he bolts in the opposite direction. When you have attempted interviews, he literally turns and speedwalks away without a word. Other drivers will chat with you, joke around, and give thoughtful answers to questions.
But Charles? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
You can’t figure out why he hates you so much. You’ve scoured your past comments and coverage looking for anything that could have offended him, but come up empty.
Is it something personal against you? Were you mean to him in a past life or something? It hurts, to be honest. You try to stay professional, but his obvious disdain for you still stings.
Sighing, you put your notes away as the car pulls into the paddock. It’s going to be a long day.
After hair, makeup, mic checks, and a final meeting, it’s nearly time for the broadcast to go live as cars start lining up on the grid. Nerves buzzing, you watch Charles warm up with his performance coach across the pit lane, headphones in and clearly in the zone. As always, he walks right past you without a flicker of acknowledgment.
Your heart twinges, but you swiftly push the hurt aside. It’s showtime.
The next few hours are a blur of rushed interviews, sound bites, stats flashing across screens, and organized chaos. After the race finally ends, there are more interviews, podium ceremonies, and press conferences to wade through before you can take a breath.
“Man, that was brutal!” Natalie huffs as the two of you finally plop down in chairs in the media room later that afternoon. She cracks open a Red Bull and takes a long drink. “You hanging in there?”
“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply half-heartedly. The truth is, you’re drained — physically and mentally. And of course, the interaction with Charles, or lack thereof, is weighing heavy.
“Why do you let that pompous twerp get under your skin so much?” Natalie says with a frown, seeming to read your mind. “He’s a rude, stuck up jerk who isn’t worth the energy. Forget about him.”
You shake your head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I just … I don’t know, I never did anything to the guy, and it still stings.”
Just then, the door to the media room swings open, and Charles himself strides in. You inadvertently tense up as he approaches the couch, looking calm and confident in his usual Ferrari polo, and folds himself down between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, who rounded out the rest of the podium.
Here we go again, you think with an internal eye roll. Just gotta get this over with.
“Hello,” Charles says with an easy grin as he settles into his seat, “What have you got for us today?” Various reporters immediately start firing off questions, undoubtedly looking to get a headline from the race winner.
You gather your courage, take a breath, and call out “Charles, Y/N with Sky Sports here. Can you walk me through your thought process behind that daring pass on Lando in Turn 12?”
To your shock, the second Charles hears your voice, his whole demeanor shifts. He seems to freeze, shoulders hunching slightly, grin dropping from his face as his cheeks instantly flush deep red. He looks panicked almost, eyes darting around the room, before landing briefly on you.
“Uhh … b-bathroom. Need to go. Bye.”
And with that, he leaps up from the couch and practically sprints out of the room.
A stunned silence falls over the space as everyone stares, stunned, at the empty space he left. You feel your stomach drop through the floor, tears of embarrassment and humiliation prickling at your eyes.
What did you do wrong? Now he’s made a total spectacle, running away from you in front of your peers. Mortified, you shakily stand up, chair clanging backwards, and rush from the room as well. Needing air, you bolt outside until you find a secluded spot out back of the paddock, leaning against a wall as the tears flow freely.
“Hey, hey … what’s going on? Are you okay?”
The soft, concerned male voice startles you, and you gasp looking up. There stands Charles, looking alarmed and guilty.
“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Please don’t cry!” He moves closer, though still keeps his distance.
You blink rapidly, beyond confused. “What … what are you doing out here? I’m clearly the last person you want to be around.”
He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is really hard for me to admit but … I like you. As in, I have the biggest crush on you. That’s why I get so flustered and basically black out anytime you talk to me. It’s pathetic, I know.”
Your jaw actually drops open in disbelief. “You … what? You like me? Is this a joke?”
“No! No, I swear, it’s the truth,” he says, face turning red again. “I know I come across like a total jerk, I just freeze up around you because honestly? You’re just so stunning and brilliant, and I get unbelievably shy and nervous. The words won’t come out. It’s like an out of body experience! I chicken out and run away like an idiot every time.”
You stare at him, trying to process this. All this time, all the hurt and embarrassment … it was just because he developed a crush?
“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know it must seem like I despise you. The truth is, you make me feel like a stuttering teenager with my first crush again,” Charles continues, looking at you beseechingly. “I understand if you think I’m a total tool, and I have a lot of work to do to make this up to you. But I swear, I really do like you, Y/N.”
At this, his face splits into a sheepish grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as relief washes over you.
He doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You appraise him, really looking at him for the first time. From his twinkling green eyes to his adorable dimples to the lock of chestnut hair falling across his forehead, he’s unbelievably charming.
You shake your head, smile growing. “So this whole time, you’ve just been acting like an awkward schoolboy instead of giving me any indication of your true feelings?”
Charles laughs self-consciously. “Embarrassing, I know. Look, I promise I’ll do better-”
“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for,” you say, crossing your arms and giving Charles a playful but pointed look. “All the grief and heartache you’ve put me through the last two years? This calls for serious groveling, mister.”
Charles immediately drops to one knee dramatically. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, apple of my eye. I am but a humble driver, unworthy of your affection. But if you would do me the extraordinary honor of allowing me to court you properly, I vow to spend every day showing you how enchanted I am by your wit, your beauty, and your strength.”
You can’t help but giggle at his over-the-top chivalrous display. “Oh get up, you goofball!” You grab his hand and pull him back to his feet. “I’m just teasing. Well, partially teasing. I do expect you to apologize to me properly. Take me to dinner or something.”
Charles visibly brightens. “Dinner? Really? Yes, absolutely! In fact, let me take you right now. We’ll go to that little trattoria down the road. You deserve to be wined and dined for putting up with me.”
You consider this for a moment, taking in his eager, handsome face. The truth is, despite his past behavior, you find yourself captivated by Charles now that you understand what was really going on. His confidence, talent, and intensity are wildly attractive. And the way he’s looking at you now, with softness and admiration in his eyes .... it sends tingles down your spine.
“Alright, lead the way, hot shot,” you say with a wink.
Charles’ grin stretches even wider, if possible. “After you,” he gestures forward with a flourish, then falls into step beside you as you head towards the exit.
“I really am sorry for being such an idiot around you,” Charles says quietly after a moment of walking in comfortable silence. “The way I’ve acted was totally unacceptable. You deserve so much better.”
You glance over at his earnest expression and feel a little pang in your chest. “It’s okay, really. I get it now. Just think how close we could have been this whole time though if you’d just … I don’t know, talked to me like a normal human being!”
Charles chuckles ruefully. “Oof, so true. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t write me off ages ago as a complete lost cause. Clearly you’re far more patient and forgiving than I deserve.”
“Yes, I really am,” you agree teasingly, giving his arm a playful shove. You both laugh as you reach the paddock exit and emerge out onto the bustling street, taking in the energy of the crowd.
You jokingly elbow Charles’ side. “Still though, as dashingly handsome as you may be, don’t think you’re completely off the hook! I expect to be wooed and romanced properly going forward. No more running off scared like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“It’s a deal,” Charles says easily, looking thrilled. “Romance and wooing, coming right up.”
Reaching the charming little restaurant, Charles opens the door for you with a sweeping bow. You grin and step inside. Somehow, you have the feeling this is going to be the start of a wonderful evening.
No more misunderstandings. Just the two of you, getting to know each other properly over a delicious meal with the slight chill of the evening settling in around you.
And you can’t wait.
***
The next few race weekends are a whirlwind as Charles seems to do a complete 180 in his behavior towards you.
Gone is the shy, nervous wreck who could barely look you in the eye. Instead, he goes full-steam in the opposite direction, seeking you out constantly and showering you with attention.
It starts the following week after Friday practice. You’re standing in the paddock scribbling notes when you sense someone approaching. Looking up, you see Charles striding over, helmet in hand, usual calm confidence exuding from him.
“Ah, Y/N, just the reporter I was looking for,” he says with a warm grin, sidling up beside you. “Walk with me?”
Flustered by his forwardness but flattered, you quickly nod. “Uh, sure!”
Charles immediately links his arm casually through yours and starts leading you away down the paddock, journalists and crew members glancing over with raised eyebrows. You catch Natalie’s eye and she mouths “WTF?” at you with a stunned look. You just give a tiny shrug, feeling your face heat up.
“So tell me, what did you think of my lap times today?” Charles asks once you’re a few paces away from the crowd.
You blink, surprised he’s looking for actual feedback. You decide to give an honest assessment. “Well, I think you were sliding the rear end quite a bit too much through Sector 2 and losing time. The car didn’t look fully settled-”
“Brilliant analysis as always, Y/N. I knew I could count on you to give it to me straight,” Charles interrupts with a respectful nod. You feel yourself preen slightly at his praise. “Some changes to differential settings should sort that out, I think.”
He then launches into a surprisingly technical explanation of his plans to adjust the setup. You find yourself nodding along, captivated, as he outlines the various weight transfer issues and how he aims to mitigate them.
He’s speaking to you like a true engineer, not just a reporter. You realize with a jolt that he’s never gone into this level of detail with you before in any interviews.
“Sorry, I’m rambling a bit here, aren’t I?” Charles says sheepishly when he pauses. “I don’t want to bore you with too much technical detail. But you just have such a good eye and ask such insightful questions, I find myself wanting to really dive into this side of racing with you.”
He gives your arm a soft squeeze. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other observations or advice. I trust your analysis completely.”
Before you can properly respond, the two of you round a corner only to nearly walk directly into Sergio Perez, who’s heading the opposite direction. He does a comical double take at seeing the two of you arm-in-arm together.
“Ah, hello Checo!” Charles says breezily, not releasing you or missing a beat. Sergio looks hilariously confused.
“Uh … hello?” is all he manages before Charles is steering you onwards.
“See you around, mate,” he tosses over his shoulder with a wink.
You glance back to see Sergio frozen in place, staring after you both looking utterly bewildered.
The weekend continues in this vein, with Charles constantly pulling you aside to chat at length about setups, strategies, even asking your opinion on development directions for next year’s car.
He treats you with the utmost seriousness and respect, like you’re one of his most trusted advisors. It’s shocking and flattering after the cold-shoulder treatment for so long.
Whenever the broadcast crew has a break, Charles inevitably finds you and whisks you off to look at telemetry data together (which sends a poor PR officer chasing after the two of you with an NDA after the first time Charles decides to pull you into the garage) or watch video, going into painstaking detail to get your thoughts.
By Sunday, it’s become a bit of a running joke among the team, with people exchanging amused glances whenever Charles appears to disappear with you once again.
“There goes Loverboy Sharl, dragging poor Y/N off yet again to pore over spreadsheets and onboard footage,” Natalie jokes with an eye roll during a break, making the crew laugh. “How does that man ever find time to, you know, actually race?”
You shoot her a heatless glare, though you have to admit — as sweet as it is having Charles’ undivided attention, as a reporter the over-accessibility is becoming a touch much.
When the race concludes later that afternoon, Charles immediately finds you amid the chaos of the media scrum.
“Y/N!” He beams down at you, still sweaty and in his racing suit with the top half unzipped. “Come take a look at the race data with me? I want to walk through my lap times and tire deg, see if we can spot any areas to improve ...”
“Actually, I’m sort of totally swamped right now,” you gesture at the sea of people around you. “But maybe later?”
His face falls slightly. “Oh. Well I suppose I did already monopolize a lot of your time this weekend. No rest for the media?”
He gives you a lopsided smile but there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You feel a little stab of guilt.
“Tell you what though,” he continues, brightening again. “Come find me later before we fly out. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”
“A surprise?” You ask with a raised brow. “What does that mean?”
“Ah ah ah, no hints!” Charles laughs, wagging a finger. “Just trust me. Don’t leave without seeing me first, okay?”
With that, he leans in and unexpectedly gives you a swift peck on the cheek. You freeze, eyes going wide, feeling your face flame. Pulling back, Charles winks cheekily at you before turning and sauntering off.
Dazed, you lift a hand to touch the spot he kissed, feeling the heat radiating from your cheek. Did he really just … right out in the open like that … with the cameras recording live?
Glancing around, you see Natalie and a few other crew members staring with mouths agape. Toto Wolff is even giving you an amused look as he walks past, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Utterly mortified, you duck your head down and hurry off to find a quiet corner to collect yourself.
The next race sees the flirting and PDA ramp up even higher. Charles can’t seem to resist finding any excuse to drape an arm around your waist, stroke your arm, or playfully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Every interaction has an undercurrent of flirtation and innuendo. And the cheek kisses become almost routine, pressed on you in front of other drivers, team bosses, cameramen, you name it.
“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” You finally say in flustered exasperation after he ambushes you with a very public, lingering kiss on the cheek in the paddock one day. You struggle to sound annoyed, but a pleased grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you say it.
“Sorry, ma chérie, I just can’t seem to resist around you,” Charles replies, absolutely zero shame in his voice or demeanor. “You’re lucky I have more self-control than to start making out right here in front of everyone!”
You gasp and slap his arm, scandalized, as he just throws his head back and laughs heartily.
Meanwhile, the double-takes and stunned looks from everyone around just keep coming. Even the normally straight-faced Fred Vasseur can’t seem to hold back smug grins whenever he sees the two of you getting cozy.
“Go on and get a room already, you two!” He finally chuckles one day as Charles passes by in the paddock with his usual arm draped around your waist.
“Don’t tempt me!” Charles quips back without missing a beat, giving you a roguish wink.
Soon, literally everyone in the paddock and broadcast team is aware of and commenting on the developing romance between you and Charles.
He makes no attempt to hide it whatsoever.
“Honestly, I think they’re the most nauseatingly adorable couple I’ve ever seen,” Jenson Button jokes to the rest of the broadcast team one evening as they all watch Charles throw his arm around you yet again and plant a smacking kiss on your temple.
“The honeymoon phase never ends with those two,” Natalie agrees in a wry tone, rolling her eyes. “It’s like they’re a pair of horny teenagers making out behind the bleachers.”
You just shake your head with a bashful smile and accept the good-natured ribbing. The truth is, despite Charles’ very public displays of affection causing some embarrassment and teasing from your colleagues, you find it hard to truly mind.
There’s an earnestness and joy in his demeanor whenever he’s with you that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him so openly happy and carefree as these past few weeks. Gone is the tightly wound, intense competitor. In his place is a warm, playful soul who can’t help but let his delight in your company shine through.
And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find his romantic attentions flattering and thrilling. The way his gaze smolders when his eyes meet yours, the tingle of electricity you feel whenever his hand brushes yours, the butterflies that erupt in your stomach when his lips graze your cheek — it all makes you deliriously giddy, like a lovesick teenager yourself.
So you endure the good-natured eye rolls from Natalie and jokes from the broadcast crew with an easy smile. Because the truth is, you’ve realized how deeply you’ve fallen for Charles in return.
“You’ve got me utterly love drunk, you charming fool,” you murmur against his chest one evening.
The two of you are tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles’ back against the wall with his arms wrapped around you as you stand embraced, soaking in a few stolen moments of intimacy together.
“The feeling is mutual,” Charles replies easily, resting his chin on your head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this madness.” He pauses, absentmindedly stroking your back. “Honestly, I half expected you to get sick of me hanging around all the time by now.”
You pull back to meet his warm green eyes. “Are you kidding? I love having you around. I still have to pinch myself that you actually want to be with me after the way you treated me for so long!”
A flicker of regret passes across Charles’ features. “I truly am sorry for being such an ass before, Y/N. I hope with time you can forgive me.”
“Already forgiven,” you assure him softly. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”
Relief blossoms on his face and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Thank you, ma belle. For being the most patient and kind woman on earth.”
You grin, eyes fluttering closed as his breath tickles your skin. “Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess I do possess some super-human tolerance for broody and aloof superstar drivers with commitment issues.”
Charles chuckles at that and you can feel the rumble of it against your body. “Lucky for me then, or I would still be utterly lost.”
His mouth finds yours then, soft and intoxicating. You melt into the kiss, savoring his warmth, his scent, the gentle stroke of his fingertips along your jaw. All semblance of poise escapes you when you’re pressed against Charles like this. He never fails to make your head spin and body thrum with want.
A polite cough from nearby causes you to break apart abruptly. You blink, dazed, to see Natalie standing with an eyebrow arched sky high.
“Hey lovebirds,” she says in a wry tone. “Sorry to disturb the sunset groping, but they’re calling for final broadcast checks in 10.”
Face flaming, you duck your head and extract yourself from Charles’ embrace. He just shoots Natalie a cheeky grin, entirely unabashed.
“Better get going then,” Charles says cheerfully, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me … again.” He winks.
Natalie rolls her eyes hard. “Oh I’m sure that would be a first. See you in 10, Y/N.”
With that, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the pits. You glance up at Charles shyly.
“I should … uh ...” You gesture vaguely.
“Yes, yes of course,” Charles says, squeezing your hands affectionately. “Work calls. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting around the next corner to steal more kisses as soon as you’re free.”
You laugh and give him a playful shove. “Go on then, you impossible man! I’ll see you in a bit.”
Heart fluttering, you watch him saunter off before heading for the pits yourself, still feeling delightfully dazed.
This is really your life now. Surrounded by racing, the thrill of competition, the roar of engines … and consumed by budding love every time Charles Leclerc is near.
As far as dream jobs go, you think with a lovestruck smile, you’ve really hit the jackpot.
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thats that me espresso!! // theodore nott x fem reader
playlist: espresso - sabrina carpenter
summary : theodore nott hasnt slept in days, and it was for one reason only. (or one person)
fluff , hufflepuff reader , y/n , short
lucky girl syndrome!! (another theo fic) masterlist
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rubbing his eyes wearily , theodore nott poked at his breakfast , feeling the eyes of concerened friends burning into him.
"what?" he asked blankly finally looking up at his friends.
"theo is something wrong?" lorenzo asked with genuine concern snaking through his face and tone.
"yes something- no someone is wrong!" theodore said angrily as he dropped his fork , "i have not slept well for days!"
"why?" draco asked , not really that bothered by theodores insomnia , just wanting to get the tired vibe out of the friendgroup.
"because..beacause!" he started before pausing each time , finally sighing and saying in a hushed voice ,"her!"
his whisper shout and eyes staring into the distance made the whole friend group follow his eyeline , landing on a hufflepuff girl talking to her friends , y/n.
"stop staring!" he said loudly making the whole group turn back to him , drawing their eyes away from the girl , eventhough theodore himself didnt look away.
"y/n? what has she done?" lorenzo asked , confused why his hufflepuff friend would be causing theodore struggle.
"great , of course youre on a first name basis with her!" theodore seethed in jealousy finally tearing his eyes away from your smiling face , "shes not really....done anything.. God i dont know shes like an espresso , i cant look at her without getting a burst of energy! and i cant stop thinking about her its keeping me up all fucking night!!"
the group watched as theodore ranted , exchanging knowing looks before pansy decided to speak up , "theodore dont get angry with that poor girl , its not her fault you like her!"
"how could i ever get angry with her," theodore muttered and stopped talking , until matteos laugh filled the short silence , "what are you laughing at dickhead!" theodore snapped , assuming matteo was laughing at him.
"oh nothing im just laughing at diggory trying to chat up your girl," matteo smirked watching everyone frantically look back to the hufflepuff girl , only to see that she was still sat and talking with her friends , cedric no where to be seen.
theodore , who had stood up in a panic smacked matteo on the back of the head and angrily snapped at the laughing boy, "shut up man not funny."
"sorry , sorry youre really gulible ," matteo laughed to himself , draco smirking at the two.
"i shoudlve never told you lot ," theodore grumbled himself , going back to poking his food.
"dont be like that theo , just a bit of fun , " blaise smirked as theodore threw him an angry look.
"no but seriously theodore , you cant let yourself be exhausted because of a girl" pansy said.
"shes not just a girl , shes nice and funny and beautiful and!-... im pathetic," theo sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his curls.
"im done with all this sappy , annoying shit , go ask her to hogsmeade or ill do it. and trust me i wont rest until she falls in love with me, " draco warned , attempting at making his friend confess.
"DONT!" theodore shouted at him , immediatly letting embrassment sink in as everyone , including you, turned to look at him, "ill....do it"
lorenzo and pansy spoke words of encouragment as the petrified boy rose from the table , draco , matteo and blaise forgetting the whole ordeal and discussing quidditch instead.
once theodore was far enough from the table pansy turned to enzo , "why is that the most emotion ive ever seen out of him in our whole lifelong friendship?"
"dunno , hufflepuffs are really effective i guess," enzo shrugged before they both skipped to another conversation and started eating again.
----
theodore walked towards your table with a confident stride , stopping behind you and sliding in next to you on the bench , close enough to the point that your bodies were pressed togther. as you jumped in suprise theo gave you a flirty smile and stared you dead in the eye.
"hi theodore , can i help you?" you asked wearily , glancing away from him and at your confused friends for a split second.
"yes, you can ," thedore smirked , "how about hogsmeade , this weekend , you and me?"
you physically paused as your mouth hung open , this was the second time you had ever talked to theodore nott and he was suddenly asking you out??!
"oh um....yeah - yeah sure id love to" you gave him a smile , a little cautious and very much confused.
"great , see you then beautiful ,"he winked, planting a kiss on your cheek before slipping out of the bench and confidently walking back to the slytherin table.
you looked at your friends with deep confusion, before going on to watch theo walk away , whilst your friends yapped about how hot he is.
-----
"so how was it?" pansy asked theodore as he sat down.
he quickly dropped his confident , cool face and let a wide grin bless his features , "perfect!!! she said yes! i walked up and acted real calm and collected ,and she didnt know i was nervous at all!!"
pansy and lorenzo smiled at him as the other boys just ignored him , uninterested. "thats great theo! so are you gonna be able to sleep now?" enzo laughed.
"like a baby." theodore grinned.
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workingwhileidream · 5 months
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Okay Burrow's End had me thinking some thoughts... So here are my favorite Dimension 20 moments that rotate like a rotisserie chicken in my brain (in no particular order other than the order I thought if them).
- Riz goes into the butthole of the Corn Ooze Monster (Fantasy High). The first absolutely insane shenanigans move anyone makes on D20, setting the tone the show will have forever.
- Raphaniel kills Queen Pamelia (Ravening War). I think I saw Brennan's soul leave his body briefly when he got that How Do You Want To Do This from Matt. Time was an absolute flat circle that day.
- Hank convinces Brennan to let him role savvy instead of sneak (Mentopolis). Hank is one of the most famous content creators, having him on the show was phenomenal to begin with. Then right out of the gate, he pulls this move in his first episode. And it just works. Hilarious, instantly iconic.
- Jet Dies (A Crown of Candy). When Lapin dies, it is shocking but I wasn't attached to him as a character. Lapin was a bit antagonistic and his death happens early in the season. On the other hand, Jet is instantly likeable. Emily and Siobhan are amazing as siblings, their performances this campaign are some of my favorites. I have siblings and I am very close to them, so this hit me like a ton of bricks.
- The entire epilogue of Burrow's End. "Are you pitching and Air Bud ending?" is one of the instant hall of fame quotes from this show. I started crying I was laughing so hard.
- Ylfa's bottleneck and the TPK (Neverafter). There are so many close calls for total party kills in Dimension 20 history, but this is where it finally happens and it's only 3 episodes in. I was on edge, expecting another TPK at any turn, for the rest of the campaign.
- 3 nat one initiative rolls for the battle that literally opens the season (A Starstruck Odyssey). The beginning of a new season is always full of excitement. This season was extra special, having everyone back in the dome after the pandemic and the season being based off Brennan's Mom's comics. The zoom energy is still in the air and I still think about this season opener a lot.
- Mother Timothy Goose breaks Snow White's concentration with a cantrip (Neverafter). Only Ally Beardsley could and we all damn well know it. Still didn't stop me from being so far in disbelief that all I could do is laugh.
- Hob's "You will never know another lonely day" speech to Rue (A Court of Fey and Flowers). I will still cry about this if I think about it for too long. Rue and Hob's romance is the heart of this season to me. I won't be over it ever.
- Gertrude convinces Nyruth to give the Questing Queens very powerful boons after the Queens tried to rob them only a few hours earlier (Dungeons and Drag Queens). The fact that this season exists drives a level of serotonin into my brain that is unimaginable. This is the definition of a big swing and when Bob rolls well, Brennan has no other choice than to honor it. This is one of the moments I have made a meme of. I cannot wait for season 2.
- Wuuvy shows up to the duel and she did not come to play (A Court of Fey and Flowers). Aabria has talked about how Wuuvy is one of her favorite NPCs and I feel the same. Wuuvy and Rue's relationship has such a great arc and this moment is so pivotal.
- Fabian's no good very bad day (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). An iconic moment in D20 history that was truly wild to watch live. For everything to go so fantastically bad for Fabian and Lou was unprecedented. There is a reason why people still talk about this moment to this day.
- Amathar survives being pushed off the castle (A Crown of Candy). Brennan tried to kill Lou so many times in this campaign. I really thought Brennan had gotten him with this one, my stomach sunk. But Lou pulls it out and Amathar lives once again.
- Pib plays "Smoke on the Water" (Neverafter). "I stepped out to play 'Smoke on the Water' " is also a hall of fame quote to me. This list could be all Pib moments if I'm being honest, he's my favorite Zac character. And the fact that Zac doesn't roll well makes this moment funnier to me.
- Buddy Bear gets planted with the All Blossom (Dungeons and Drag Queens). Jujubee and Brennan owe me a therapy session for this one. I sobbed. My cat is my baby and I will be ruined the day she leaves me, so I get it. I really do.
- "Eat your dice, Brennan" (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). A great bit made physically possible by Siobhan. I hope Siobhan gives him gummy dice or something like that so that Brennan can continue to eat his dice for Junior Year.
- Orange Top Hat Fairy (Neverafter). It's a horror season and the cast is doing bits about how hot a mini is the entire finale and the Adventuring Party that followed. I felt the stress and off the walls energy through the screen. The Smooth Criminal pin was the first piece of Dimension 20 merch I bought.
- Viola's epic takedown of Phoebe (Burrow's End). Watching Rashawn absolutely crush it her first time in the dome was amazing. I loved Viola from the jump, her arc was so satisfying and fun to watch. Also the idea of a tiny stoat kicking a gun just the right way to get it to fire is hilarious. No notes other than please have Rashawn come back on every season she possibly can.
- Evan Kelmp warns the Rosemont student not to duel him (Misfits and Magic). Brennan's deadpan warning matched with the reactions of the other players and Aabria really make this scene. An underrated Brennan moment for sure.
- Stacey Fakename turns out to be real (Mentopolis). This was such a good reoccurring bit, so to have Stacey be real at the end of the story was too funny. In a season of bits, tropes, and puns - this one has the most payoff to me and is definitely my favorite.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months
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♡ SKZ Members Who'd Love Sleeping On Your Belly ♡
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♡ All of the love to @skz-story-request-always-open for asking me to do this adorably fluffy request ♡
While I'm sure any of our OT8 cuties would love cuddling up to a soft belly, these are the four who I think would be in absolute heaven if you let them do it.
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♡ Felix ♡
You let him fall asleep on your belly once and he's refused to do anything else since. At this point, if you even joke about not letting him do it you'll break his heart
Seriously, you can offer him the fluffiest of pillows and he won't touch them because nothing's more comfy than dozing off on you with his favorite song or show in the background
It's never unexpected when he lays on you because he tends to come running at you full force with his arms open and his face lit up, making cute little noises that let you know it's time for cuddles
As much as he enjoys your softness, what really makes it special to him is the closeness and vulnerability he feels when he's curled up against you with your arm around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as sleep takes him
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♡ Bang Chan ♡
His reputation as someone who rarely sleeps is unshakable at this point, insomnia's basically a part of his lore, but he's out like a light the second his cheek meets your belly
Something that always gets him is when you come up beside him while he's working and stroke his cheek, letting him lean his head on you. As someone who's responsible for taking care of so many people, it's nice when it's his turn to be cared for
He can, will, and has fallen asleep in the sitting position because you're so comfy, and having you in his presence is incredibly peaceful for him, quieting the thoughts swirling around in his mind
Nothing's cuter than the look on his face when you wake him up enough to make it to the bed or couch where he can truly settle in, interlocking his body with yours so that you can't go anywhere
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♡ Binnie ♡
This man's obsession with sleeping on your belly is the precise reason why you wake up with random body aches some days
He doesn't care where you are, what you're doing, or what time of day it is. If he feels himself nodding off, he has to find a way to get you into any position necessary for him to get to it
Clearly, he's not particular about if you guys are bent sideways to make it happen but he does have preferences when it comes to what you wear. His favorite thing to see you in is a t-shirt because it means his hands get easier access to squishing your belly
There's nothing remotely sexual about his habit of slipping his hand under your shirt to play with your belly. It's relaxing for him. It also helps that you giggle when he does it a certain way. He could never get tired of that
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♡ Han ♡
He never gets a better night's rest than when he's using your belly as a pillow but going to sleep's rarely, if ever, what he had in mind when he first laid down
It's a good thing though because, with all of the energy he has, he can start to feel burnt out at times and he always knows he can come to you as a safe space to restore his energy since you don't really want anything from him other than, well, him
Even though it's technically your stomach he goes feral if anyone tries to peel him away from you. You're his baby and he's gonna cling to you for dear life for as long as he can
His belly might not be as soft as yours but he constantly insists that you lay on him too so that he can hold you and sing you to sleep, watching over you to make sure you sleep as peacefully as he does
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hoony2k · 4 months
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HEART 2 HEART
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I aint never seen two chill idols in a room, one of them is always obesessed with the other. Or
Idol!enha giving idol!you heart eyes in professional settings.
PAIRING: ot7
GENRE: fluff, crack, established lovers, secret lovers, idol x idol
WORD COUNT: 3k (help)
WARNINGS: mentions of innocent kissing that's it. I got possessed during hoon and hee's.
NOTE: hii this was so fun. I kind of wanted niki and sunoo's to be a bit longer but I yapped a bit too much in general. this is massive for a 7 member drabble but 1 para wouldn't do justice. hope you enjoy!
Part 1 -> we dating fr?
Part 3 -> cut the cameras
requested masterlist
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★ HEESEUNG:
He thinks everything’s a game!!he thinks its funny! But mr lee who is laughing? Not him rn
You’re walking in the hallways after a quick trip to the washroom when suddenly someone grabs your arm and pulls you into a room. You’re ready to scream but he swiftly covers your mouth and chants “It’s me. It’s me” like that’ll help you understand why your boyfriend thought it would be a good idea to lead you into a small clothing room.
You want to get mad at him for a billion reasons but mainly because what if someone saw? and misunderstood! But his stupid smile tells you how he doesn’t care. Sometimes you want to have his optimism and confidence, maybe then you two could live a carefree idol life.
 Heeseung wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to fiddle with the bows on your outfit and hair. Your faux anger slowly crumbles as he stares at you like you painted the night sky and hung the stars on it. Still, you break eye contact just to dust your pride and Heeseung can not stop laughing, finding you cuter than ever.
“I have to go soon. We can’t get caught”, you remind him, the overwhelming time restraint burdens you every time you meet him outside his dorms and as usual, Heeseung doesn’t mind. He shrugs casually, then gives you a reckless smile, eyes hooded. “Who cares?”
Your heart skips a beat in the best way but you purse your lips and pretend to think it over. A hum escapes you, tapping your finger on his chin. He leans closer.
“Probably our managers, you know?”, you say knowing he’s far too busy admiring your eye makeup to even care about the consequences of what would happen if someone were to open the door. So, you do the most logical thing a person subjugated with love could do. Taking his smiley face in your grasp, you turn his head and press a chaste kiss on his cheek, intentionally pressing into his skin to leave a stain.
You pull back to inspect the pink gloss on his cheek, lightly smudged. Heeseung looks like he’s floating but before he can pull any stunts you clap him on the back as a goodbye and quickly scurry out of the room. Not even bothering to check if someone was in the hallway.
If Heeseung stands alone dazed for a while…no one needs to know. He fights his demons when he brings out a tissue to remove your gloss, sobbing internally.
★ JAY:
You will be my girl my girl my girl <3
Jay had told you about how he’d film the Sweet Venom TikTok challenge with you to prepare you beforehand. You had learnt the dance long ago, but the mental preparation to become a different person in front of Jay from Enhypen and a camera took some mental energy. Acting like you were strangers and not a couple filming a silly video wasn’t what you wanted but you were thankful no one spread dirty rumours.
His manager held the camera to film some behind-the-scenes footage of Jay “teaching” you what to do in the challenge and it was kind of funny. But when it came to filming, Jay did everything to be able to spend some extra time with you without seeming suspicious.
He’d get the timing wrong on purpose, he’d bump into you, with the smallest nudge and he’d quickly pause the challenge to apologise. Each time he’d falter or force himself to be out of sync, to have one eye slightly closed, you’d laugh it off, genuinely finding his actions endearing.
He’s excited to film it with you, he can’t wait to show how good you two look, and how his dance style compliments yours, and he can’t wait to see his fans react, gushing over you, throwing heart emojis for his girl.
It was rare for to Jay get so stubborn so you entertained it and laughed. The manager didn’t mind as long as she farmed enough footage but eventually puts her foot down when the behind-the-scenes videos turns longer than 2 minutes and the challenge hasn't reached its middle yet.
She politely tells Jay to rehearse once more and she’d film it after that. The rehearsed one goes by smoothly; the steps are muscle memory at this point.
Before the final take, Jay wants to tell you good luck but almost slips and lays it all out in the open as he parts his lips to call you “Babe”. At the utterance of the first syllable, you snap your head in his direction, eyes piercing his soul, not a hint of a smile.
Jay catches his tongue and switches it to another similar word and thankfully it isn’t noticeable nor is it understood by the manager who assumes Jay’s nerves cause him to slur over his speech. No big deal.
Slightly nervous, Jay glances at you and you offer him an understanding nod. Then the final take begins and everything goes smoothly. When the challenge ends, you turn to bow and he thanks you for joining him. As the manager gives you a thumbs up and taps away on her phone preoccupied, you turn to Jay with a raised brow and he blushes.
“I don’t wanna talk about it”.
★ JAKE:
Personal space? Never heard of her
It’s been hours since you’ve arrived and Jake has not stopped smiling for even a second. He’s over the moon he can’t believe how well you fit into his social circle (enha) like a puzzle piece he was missing this whole time. He’s not sappy but he could write an entire sonnet on how gorgeous you look lounging on his bed, eating take out and brushing your hair back as you watch the movie with him.
But when you announce it’s time to leave, he does not stop sulking and begging you. Literally on his knees. The moment you try to get out of bed, he grabs onto your arm and pulls you tight into his embrace, nose in your hair, he pretends he’s asleep when you ask him to let go.
“My manager just texted me”, you tell him but your hands find his free hand. He rubs a thumb over your hand and you feel like you just kicked a wet puppy into mud. He groans into your hair, slowly and subtly, his legs wrap around your own as if he’s trying to merge your bodies.
“Tell her your phone exploded”, his voice is muffled and immediately you stop feeling bad.
You whine his name and try again but he refuses to budge, and when he tries to pull his bed covers on your frame, you decide to threaten him, “I’ll scream for Jay I’m not playing. I’m overdue curfew”.
“Door’s locked”. HELLO??
You sigh and let your head rest on his pillow that smells exactly like him, ignore the flutter in your rib cage and rest for just a minute. Jake mistakes it as a sign of you surrendering, his grip loosening. You don’t waste a second and throw his caged arms off and jump out of bed and he begins to sulk and wail at the loss of contact. But as much as you love him, you can finally breathe without the weight of your chest.
“I like the idol you better. The one who acts like he doesn’t know me”.
“He wouldn’t treat you like I do”.
He’s ready to have beef with idol Jake if it is meant to impress you. When he’s tying up your shoelaces for you, he’s like “I’ll walk you home” and you tell him he cannot do that because people are always snooping so you’ll get a taxi and he’s like “I’ll walk you downstairs and wait until you sit inside”.
How could you say no to his puppy eyes?
★ SUNGHOON:
he’s on cloud nine because his wish finally came true. He’s radiating light wherever he goes.
He sat next to you, far too close for it to appear platonic but Sunghoon told you not to worry. He tells you not to worry when he’s facing you, knees brushing, you can feel his body heat despite the cool in the room. You’re trying your hardest not to stare at him or how he’s rolled up his dress shirt sleeves despite his stylist’s scolding, or how they slicked his hair back with gel but left one strand to dangle on his forehead, how it curves and makes his eyes seem sharper than they are.
You’re trying, ok?
It’s better than Sunghoon who cannot stop leaning in your personal space as he reads his lines off your shoulder for some reason, he giggles when you try to push him away but he clings like a magnet. The floor vibrates with heavy bass, you’re up again in ten minutes and you need him to get serious.
Unlike him, it’s your first time mc-ing and despite his hype boy attitude, your fingers still shake as you read your lines out loud. Sunghoon’s smile flickers until he remembers he can do something to help.
“Hey, just focus on me”, he says calmly, ironically the one thing you’ve been trying not to do.
But, with blind trust, you agree and your gaze lands on his. His eyes twinkle and crinkle, he stares back at you and you think you’ve started to smile like an idiot. You turn your eyes to soak in his outfit once more, he matches your formal dress, a deep red satin dress paired with similar gloves. He’s adorned in dark slacks that emphasise his stature, and a dark dress shirt with a maroon tie. His tie is crooked-
Out of instinct or perhaps it stems from the urge to hold his hands, feel his heartbeat under your fingers, you reach out, hands settling on his shoulders, then inch towards his neck to tighten and straighten the knot. Sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave your serious expression, a lovesick smile hangs on his face. Your hands press onto the material to flatten it and fix his collars like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.
Something clatters and smashes loudly.
You rip your hands off his shoulders and he suddenly feels cold. Sunghoon pouts but you quickly turn away, surprisingly less scared than before. You glance in front and see your stylist give orders, someone says another band is preparing for an interview in 5. Finally, you grip the cards tightly in your hands but don’t even spare them a glance. Instead, you lock eyes with your lover who had been looking fondly at you the whole ordeal.
“let’s go over this one last time for your sake”.
Sunghoon laughs.
★ SUNOO:
Therapists hate him. He’s a mastermind at manipulation.
Both of you are chosen along with another idol and actor to partake in a reality show where you all live together and go on an adventure it’s all a great experience and you get to interact with new lovely people but when it’s late at night, the crew has gone to their hotel, cameras have been turned off, you, Sunoo and the actor gather at the dining table.
Sunoo keeps smiling at you and the actor and he offers to peel mandarins. As he peels, the conversation flows smoothly, his fingers work quickly and skillfully. Even though his eyes are downcast, his change in expressions tell you he’s listening to the conversation.
Out of respect, he offers the actor a plate with the most mandarin slices and out of habit, he slides to you the plate with the juiciest and scrumptious slices, choosing the dry ones for himself. You shyly thank him and Sunoo brushes it off. He only realizes what he’s done and how much of a deal it is when the actor questions if he’s a good friend of yours.
Sunoo bursts into laughter, eyes crinkling, he waves his hand in dismal, he looks at you up and down. You refuse to make eye contact.
“Something like that”.
His open-ended answer renders you speechless and you pretend to be busy when the actor looks at you. You untie your hair for it to cover your heated ears and fake cough as you take another bite.
Sunoo offers you a napkin. His hand stretches over the table and all eyes are on you, the actor is on the edge of his seat as he observes you like a hawk.
As nonchalant as you can be, you roll your shoulders and take it from him. Despite your efforts to avoid skin contact, Sunoo flicks his wrist and his fingers delicately brush yours, sparks light up inside your stomach.
You quietly thank him and he shows off his charming smile. the actor next to you sighs loudly and glances at the clock before thanking Sunoo for the mandarins. Sunoo shines another smile at the man who glances between the two of you.
“Chemistry like this is hard to find. If you two end up dating, I’ll be supporting you”.
This time you choke on the juice and Sunoo springs up to give you a glass of water and pats your back for safety. The actor nods once more then leaves. When the coughing fit dies down, you ask Sunoo what all that was about, he tells you not to worry. He peeks at the camera as a precaution, it’s got a lid covering the lens. Then, he bends down to kiss your hair and brings your plate closer to him so he can feed you. Your heart attempts to jump onto the table when he affectionately begins to stroke your hair as well.
Friends be damned, you’ve hit the lover jackpot.
★ JUNGWON:
He loves his job but hates all the parts where he has to be too pretend his personal life doesn’t exist.
“I wish you were here with me”, he says the moment you pick up. You pout, shoulders sag immediately. 
He notices this and almost feels bad as he caresses his phone screen like it’s a glass screen dividing him and the fish at an aquarium. The thought makes him laugh. He wants to spend the entire night talking to you, memorising your presence, pretending you're cuddled next to him but he can’t go through with his urges because you need to sleep.
Jungwon would never want you to disturb your sleep routine, no matter how many times you text or tell him that you want to do these things for him, it's only natural.
“I bought you a keychain”, you tell him, voice cracking over the call. He adjusts his camera, brows raised. You know what he’ll say so you answer, “You’ll see it when I give it to you”. 
He pouts and brings the camera closer to his face to coax you into showing it, his tired eyes sparkle and almost distract you from his dark circles. Your heart sinks. What time is it there? You don’t need to calculate because you had already memorized the time difference by heart before he departed.
“Baby, it’s 2 am there”. 
He shakes his head, hair flicking him in the eye, he squints up at you and unconsciously buries himself under his comfy hotel blankets. You stare at your lover, take in his appearance and admire how hard he works to achieve his dreams, how he wants to be a good boyfriend and tick all the boxes that make your heart soar. He looks like he’ll fall asleep in the peaceful silence so you grant him an offer. 
“Would you like me to sing you to sleep?”
His dimple greets you and under the covers where you can’t see, Jungwon rubs his legs together, giddy like a child. 
“Sing your next song for me”, he whispers and you gasp at him, taken back by the new information. It’s your turn to squint at him as you ask him about how he knew you were preparing for a comeback. He shakes his head and mumbles, “You changed your makeup”. 
Makeup…that was only evident in pictures. You hadn’t met him all dolled up behind stage due to your schedules and could barely fit an hour with him at his dorm because you two were so busy. Yet he had noticed, somehow in a supernatural but very Jungwon way and your face heated up.
Your melody filtered through his speakers, it only took a minute for Jungwon’s breathing to even out, his hand going limp and the phone falling backwards to give you a view of the ceiling light. 
Still, you finish the song and wish him a good night. Whisper a soft I love you in the dimly lit room, a saccharine confession that he’ll hear confidently soon. 
★ NIKI:
Bro thinks hes in an edit‼️literally moves slowly like that when he sees you, r&b song playing in this head
On the encore stage, other bands including yours bow to Enha and in those 4 seconds, Niki decides to take a shot.
He thanks you with a bow and when you turn your attention to Jungwon, Niki speaks your name. It's far too gentle to be caught in the mic and he faces his head toward you so the back of his head is captured by the camera.
But like a compass, you always find his voice, when he calls for you in the hallways or when he's talking to other people in his makeup room, your ears seem to find him before your eyes do.
As you turn your wide eyes to him, unaware of his plans, Niki's boxy smile vanishes. He gazes at you through lidded eyes that appear striker more so than ever due to his bold makeup and he renders you speechless, cupid shooting you with several arrows.
You're paused mid-bow, face heating up under Niki's stare and smug smile, professional composure crumbling. There's a siren going off in your head, the cameras!
But what do they know? They can't even see your lover's expression, only the tilt of his head and dark wavy hair that tickles his neck. A part of you, a possessive side is overjoyed they can't. Swiftly, Jungwon covers your body and gives Niki a nasty side eye which finally manages to pull you out of the trance.
You return to thanking them and saying whatever nonsense comes to mind, Jungwon understands but Niki cackles loudly. As fast as this interaction happens, you fall back and merge with the crowd that walks off stage.
Thankfully, no one could figure out what happened but they made assumptions based on your expressions. That hype dies down in the fandoms but Niki can't stop replaying the moment on his end. It's a free amv for songs, he's never going to stop thinking about it.
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Thank you for reading!
All rights belong to me. Please do not copy/translate/edit.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 3 months
Text
Ghost Whisperer || CL16
AN: another one from the archives of forgotten fics.
Summary: gifted with the ability to talk with the dead, you meet a man who wants you to take him to Monaco to check on his godson.
Warnings: mentions of death
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Your family holiday had taken a turn when you reached Nice, France, and found the apartment that they had rented was already occupied. They were oblivious to the man who had lived there a decade earlier but your sixth sense had spotted him the moment you walked in the door.
“You’re going to love him,” Jules repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.
“This isn’t Tinder,” you said to the apparition sitting in the passenger seat of your rental car. “I’m just going to find your friend so you can finally rest.”
“What’s Tinder?”
“Nevermind.”
“And he’s not just my friend,” he corrected. “He’s my godson, he’s family.”
You sighed as you imagined how the conversation would go with a child. It was hard enough trying to explain your gifts to adults who understood what you were saying, they just didn’t believe you. Everyone thought you were just trying to scam them when you said you had a message from a loved one.
“He’s the kindest kid you’ll ever meet. You’ll see.” Jules smiled as you followed his directions and crested over the mountain range to see Monaco in all its summer glory. “Beautiful, right?”
You were awestruck by the sight of the sun on the sea and his smile grew at your loss for words. It was a shame you had to drive when all you wanted to do was sit and watch the city grow before your eyes. Unfortunately it took a huge amount of energy for a ghost to even move a feather so there was no hope of Jules taking over the steering wheel for you.
Once inside the city he directed you to a home that the family had lived in and hopefully still did. The white door had a large brass door knocker in the shape of a lion and it was cold to the touch when you grabbed it.
“Bonjour,” a friendly middle aged woman answered and Jules breathed her name like prayer. “Puis-je vous aider?”
“Do you speak English?”
“Yes, is there something I can help you with?”
You looked to your left and Jules gave you an encouraging smile. “I was hoping to speak to Charles. Is he here?”
You were aware it was a weekday and he was likely at school but it was still disappointing to see Pascale shake her head. “He hasn’t lived here for some time, are you a friend of his?”
She was already growing defensive, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for your answer. “No, we don’t know each other but a mutual friend asked me to pass a message to him.”
“Aw, we are friends,” Jules chuckled and you had to fight to resist rolling your eyes.
“Perhaps I should call my son,” she murmured as she held a hand up. “Just wait here a moment.”
She closed the door behind her and you waited impatiently as you shifted on your feet. “What happens if she doesn’t give up his address?”
“The city isn’t that big, I’m sure we can find him.” His attention turned to the door and he went to nudge you but his elbow went straight through, causing goosebumps to travel across your skin.
“Stop doing that,” you growled as the door opened. Pascale gave you an odd look as she found you alone waiting, but she didn’t ask who you were talking to as she held a phone out.
“He wants to know who this mutual friend is.”
You took the phone and raised it to your ear. “Hello, is this Charles?”
“Yes, now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and have you trespassed?”
You reeled back at the animosity, but also the depth of his voice. He was not the child you had envisioned. “I have done nothing wrong.”
“I understand you are a fan and I appreciate that, but you cannot just keep showing up at my mother’s house and expect to find me. There is a boundary and this is crossing it.”
You pulled back the phone to look at it in disgust before you turned and took a step away from his mother. “I don’t know who you think you are, hot shot, but I was only doing this because your friend asked me to. For some reason he thinks highly of you, but I can’t say the same.”
The seconds dragged on and if it wasn’t for his soft breathing you would have thought the call disconnected. “Who?” he finally asked.
You took a steadying breath knowing this was almost always the point that you lost their interest. “Jules.”
“Goodbye.”
“Charles!” Your ears rang with Jules’ outburst and the screen pixelated before returning to normal to show the call was still connected. Charles’ breathing turned ragged as he choked on his tongue knowing the voice he had heard. Doubt and other emotions roiled his insides but he couldn’t hang up no matter how much he wanted to.
An address rattled off his heavy tongue and Jules recognised the street name, giving you a nod. “I’ll see you soon,” you said as you handed the phone back to his mother.
“Please don’t hurt him,” she asked as she pocketed the device.
“I just want to pass on a message and go back to my holiday,” you promised, though she frowned at the evasive words that created more questions she held back.
By force of habit, her frown deepened when you nodded your head to the empty space beside you and muttered, “Come on then.”
Jules lingered another moment, his hand reaching for Pascale’s only for her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. With a sigh, he turned away and heard the door click shut behind him.
“She was like a second mother to me,” he said quietly as he caught up. “The kindest woman I knew.”
“You also said Charles would be great but so far that is not how I am feeling.”
Jules had nothing to say to that, but it had been 10 years since his death. Perhaps a decade had changed Charles while Jules remained the same.
The apartment building was as pretty as the rest that you had passed but the afternoon sun left a shadow climbing its walls and you couldn’t help feeling like it was an omen as you buzzed his apartment number. Instead of answering, the front door unlocked and you stepped inside apprehensively. Each step on the tiled floor echoed and you followed the apartment numbers as you climbed the stairs to Charles’.
His door was already opened, a handsome man leaning against the doorway, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned you with each step closer. You wanted to elbow Jules for not telling you his godson was Adonis reincarnated but Jules was in his own state of shock seeing Charles grown into adulthood. The boy he knew was long gone, this was a man.
“My mother said to listen to you, that is the only reason you are here.” He stood up straighter, blocking you from seeing the inside of his home. “Say what you need to then go.”
You looked at Jules but he wasn’t any help as his jaw still hung open. You decided to go with honesty but really you were just taking a shot in the dark, he didn’t seem like the type to believe anything that was going to come out of your mouth. “My AirBnB in Nice came with a ghost named Jules and he wanted me to find you.”
Charles' hands dropped limp at his sides before a sharp laugh erupted and he stepped back into this apartment. He reached for his door, ready to slam it closed when Jules emerged from his stupor and whispered a few words for you to repeat.
“Bring it home, underdog.”
Charles froze at the words and nearly stumbled as he spun around. Anger painted his face and he closed the distance in a few strides as he shoved a shaking finger in your face. “What did you say?”
You swallowed at the animosity in his tone before straightening your spine and looking him in the eye. “The only way you show these guys you’re not a charity case is to prove them wrong and win, kid.”
His nose twitched as he struggled to understand the words he had heard once before. “Who told you to say that?”
You jutted your thumb at Jules. “You know who, the same man that told me.”
An array of emotions flitted across his face before settling on disbelief. “That’s not possible.”
“I wish,” you murmured before looking at Jules, and you felt bad. “Sorry.”
“I wouldn’t want that gift either,” he admitted. “Can you tell him he looks strong? And he finally grew into his big head.”
“Jules says you look good.”
“I said strong.”
“Strong, whatever,” you corrected. “He thinks you look strong. And you had a big head. Are you still racing?”
Charles followed your eyes to the space beside you but no matter how hard he tried to focus he couldn’t see anything. “I must be crazy.”
You snorted a laugh at what Jules said before repeating it. “No, you were crazy when you drove for years without knowing how to use the brakes.”
“I was eight,” Charles defended himself before realising that was not something widely known and something akin to wonder brightened his face. “Jules?”
“Yeah, kid, I’m here.”
Charles stepped aside and waved a hand in, urging you to follow him to the dining room table. He grabbed three bottles of water without thinking and then frowned as he put one back, a look of sadness washing over him.
“Don’t feel sad,” you said as you accepted the water. “Good things came about because of his death.”
Charles scoffed and untwisted the bottle cap with more force than necessary, spilling water over his hands. “Not for me.”
“You’re alive because of him, and that makes him happy,” you said, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. “Because of Jules they made the halo and that saved your life, and others too. He would take the sacrifice any day.”
“Always,” Jules echoed. He placed his hand on top of yours and it drifted through, sending goosebumps up yours and Charles’ arms.
“Jules,” you growled as you shook your hand out, but Charles stared at his in wonder.
“I felt him,” he whispered in amazement. “Mon Dieu!”
The next few hours passed by with an onslaught of questions, mostly ‘how’. How do you do it? How long have you seen them? How did you find out?
Slowly the questions became more personal.
“Do you do this for work?”
“No way, well kind of, maybe…I’m studying history. It does help when the old professor still hangs out in the library. He’s happy to help whenever I have questions.”
“Isn’t that cheating?”
“It’s no different to a tall person playing basketball. Success is just playing to your strengths.”
“Is talking to the dead really a strength?” Jules asked as he crossed his legs and drummed his fingers on his lips, pondering. “Surely you are just missing out on life.”
“I don’t think you’re one to talk, you’re still here when you could be enjoying whatever afterlife awaits.”
“I wish I could hear him,” Charles sighed. “Why hasn’t he moved on?”
You shrugged and looked at Jules for an answer.
“I promised Hervé I would watch over him.”
Charles’ eyes misted and his head bowed as he tried to hide how he wiped the tears away. “I’m an adult now, Jules, you don’t have to stick around for me.”
“I see that now,” he said with a sad smile as he stood up and ruffled Charles' hair. “I love you, kid.”
Charles’ breath shuddered from his lungs as he felt the large hand on his head for a second before it disappeared. “Is he…is he gone?”
You watched Jules step out onto the balcony and warmth flooded the room as he faded into the shimmering light.
“Now he is,” you swallowed the lump in your throat that always came with the final goodbye. Standing up, you looked to the door and wondered if you should quietly leave but when you looked back at Charles, his eyes red and cheeks wet, you knew you couldn’t leave him that way.
Walking around the table, you took a seat next to Charles and took his hand. He broke away from staring silently at the wood grain and knots in the table and sniffled. “Thank you.”
“I would say anytime but…”
You smiled as Charles managed a small chuckle. “I think once is enough, but I wonder…” he looked around the room. “You haven’t seen my father have you?”
You shook your head. “There wasn’t anyone at your mother’s house either. It’s likely if he was at peace then he’s already moved on.”
“Good, that’s good.” He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, wincing at the dampness on his hands. “Sorry.”
“I’m used to it, you cry as much as you want. There isn’t exactly a right way to feel when it comes to this,” you admitted as you looked out of the balcony to see the marina looking even more beautiful.
“I don’t know how to thank you.” He caught your lingering gaze and cleared his throat. “Maybe I could show you the city?”
“You’re probably in shock. You should rest,” you said with a shake of your head. “But I’m pretty sure I saw Monaco on my mum’s itinerary for next week. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Or maybe you could call me?”
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touretticeddiemunson · 3 months
Text
Steddie with those tap vibration bracelets for couples | Angst with a surprise ending
Eddie had been dead for over a year. After Dustin had to leave him in the Upside Down, they tried to look for him. But Eddie’s body was just…gone. Steve didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. No one thought he would have a reason to. No one knew what they did behind closed doors, hands under each other’s shirts, lips moving together.
Steve was the one who had the idea to get tap bracelets in the first place. They were something you could keep hidden, in your pocket or on your wrist under a long sleeve. Whenever they were thinking about each other, they could tap the bracelet and it would vibrate the other person’s. It started as a cute gesture but it soon turned to a feature they used for survival going into the Upside Down.
“Tell me when you’re okay. 1 tap for safe, 2 for danger. Okay?”
“Steve, I could do Morse code. I know SOS.”
“Eddie, there won’t be time. Please, just follow the system.”
But Eddie didn’t follow the system. He didn’t fucking follow it, and instead of running he tried to be a goddamn hero. He didn’t tap the bracelet before he went after the bats, didn’t tell Steve he was in danger.
Steve would never forget the scream of absolute anguish as the bats tore into Eddie’s flesh. He knew the sound came from him. He knew his voice backwards and forwards. He would never forget the rapid vibrations on his wrist in the moments before he heard Dustin yell.
In that moment, he knew his Eddie was gone. Eddie had spent his last moments, his last spurts of energy thinking of Steve. Letting Steve know he loved him, that he was always with him.
Steve hadn’t taken off the bracelet ever since, not even to shower. He kept it right on his wrist, covered with saran wrap like you’d bag a cast. He never wanted to be separated from him. He knew that he’d never be able to feel Eddie’s touch again, but bracelet’s presence was enough to keep the grief at bay. Every now and then, he’d touch it a few times. Hoping, praying Eddie’s soul could feel it. He never told the party about him and Eddie’s relationship. Never opened up, really, about what they were to each other.
No one understood why he had shut down after Vecna was defeated. They assumed it was because he was mentally and physically exhausted. But it was so much more than that. It was grief. He’d lost his person, he was sure that Eddie had been the one. And he lost him. The only person he ever told was Robin.
He came out to the party as bisexual about a year after Eddie’s death, but it didn’t ring a bell for any of them still. Not even Dustin, who had always been suspicious of his and Eddie’s closeness.
Years went by and he still hadn’t taken off the bracelet, even though was with someone new. They had only been together a few days before Steve called it off. It had taken so long to get over losing Eddie, but something deep inside of him chewed. And chewed.
Something just didn’t feel right about this new person. It wasn’t her fault, Steve just couldn’t do it.
One night, Steve stayed awake a little longer than he normally did, reading some book series Eddie had left in his room before all the shit went down, Lord of the Rings.
His attention was drawn away by a buzzing feeling against his wrist. He looked down at it to see the gold bracelet lighting up and vibrating. He put the book down and hesitantly tapped back. This couldn’t be happening. Not after all these years. Something in the Upside Down must have gotten ahold of the bracelet. But nothing could have prepared Steve for what he felt next. Sharp, punctuated taps. He focused, hard, trying to figure out what it meant. He eventually made it out. It was Morse code, 3 letters, repeating themselves over and over.
“S. O. S.”
Eddie was alive, and he needed help.
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kiwi-bitchez · 1 year
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Like Magic
Eddie Munson x Reader, 18+ mdni
Summary: Incredibly troupey enemies to lovers smut. The gang takes a trip together and a game of never-have-I-ever creates a new tension between you and Eddie. The classic "no one has ever made me come'' situation. A bit overused, but it still gets me every time. Hope y'all enjoy!
Warnings: afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, drinking (all characters are 21+), kind of Asshole!Eddie but not really, fingering, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), Eddie has a dick piercing because I said so, piv sex, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl this is just fanfiction, Eddie has big dick energy in this one, I said what I said, rough-ish sex but Eddie's def more of a soft dom here, a few pet names (princess, mostly), spelling/grammar mistakes, corny ending
Word count: 14k (oof… got a little carried away with this one besties)
Steve said it would be a getaway. A trip dedicated equal parts to celebrating Nancy's first big article getting published and to cheer Steve up after having been dumped by his most recent situationship. The former was the initial reason to take the trip but after finding out about Jessica or Jamie or whatever her name was you had a feeling the latter was the true motivator. Either way, Steve had found a cheap cabin up by a lake and had pitched the trip as a fun way to "get in touch with wilderness." You had a feeling it was going to be more drinking and board games than hiking and fishing, but that was fine by you. 
It was nice to put in for the time off from work and have something to look forward to. A week away with your friends. And Eddie. It's not that you didn't consider him a friend... well, you didn't. But it wasn't for lack of trying on your end. You'd use the term friendly acquaintance. A person with whom you share several close friends but for some reason refuses to be friendly to you- that kind of friendly acquaintance. Okay, maybe the word friendly was a bit of a stretch. 
There was an odd tension between the two of you that you couldn't quite figure out. When Robin had introduced you to her friends from high school, all staying very close over the years, you immediately hit it off with them, easily integrating yourself into their quirky dynamic. Even though Eddie sort of stuck out like a sore thumb among them, you never treated him any differently than you did Steve or Nancy. You liked that their group was so mismashed. You had made it a point to not to turn your nose up at him for any reason, expecting he typically got that reaction from those who didn't know him. At first you actually found him to be quite charming. 
There was just a certain coldness he had towards you that you found off putting. Knowing what little you did about him, entirely through Robin's introductory ramblings, you could understand why he might be wary of new people. It was that you had put in an effort to get to know him and be friendly that had upset you when he didn't return the sentiment. Not only did he treat you with a certain dry curtness, but he seemed so warm and loving to everyone else. He'd ruffle Robin's hair, bear hug Steve, share a cigarette with Nancy when she was especially stressed and tell some long winded story that had her cracking up and forgetting why she was ever tense in the first place. You didn't expect immediate closeness, but a little bit of that warmth from him would have been nice. 
The awkward tension between the two of you manifested as joking jabs that hit a little too close, sarcastic remarks and rolled eyes. If he was going to go out of his way to push your buttons, you had no problem doing the same. It never ruined the energy when you'd all hang out as a group, but it was an underlying feeling you could't ever seem to ignore, as much as you'd tried. So this trip was going to be a celebration for Nancy, a distraction for Steve, and a challenge for you. 
The cabin really was a great find to credit Steve. You had all pitched in a little money to cover the expenses and were pleasantly surprised when you found out there were actually enough beds for all of you, a half decent kitchen, hot water, nothing special but certainly nothing to complain about either. You had access to a small dock and a beat up canoe, a little fire pit out back, the basic necessities for a half decent vacation. That, supplemented with the box of booze Steve had lugged up from the car and all of your excitement to let loose was sure to make for a good trip, if not at least a memorable one. 
You had all scoped out the digs, poking around the shed outside and unloading all your stuff from the cars. You felt somewhat settled in and ready to slip into vacation mode right as the sun began to set. Steve and Nancy had taken care of bringing groceries for the week, unpacking a week's worth of dry pasta and snacks into the dusty pantry. Steve took it upon himself to cook a small meal for everyone in the kitchen, nothing fancy but still appreciated given the minimal kitchen setup, always the mom of the group. Eddie messily makes himself a rum and coke, offering Robin one as well and blatantly ignoring your presence. Not that you wanted a stupid rum and coke from him anyways. He hands her the drink and you avoid eye contact and push past him to fix a drink for yourself, quickly shuffling off to check if Steve needed any help in the kitchen. 
"Too many cooks in the kitchen, y/n," Steve places his hands on your shoulders and backs you out of the small space, "go relax, I think I can handle boiling pasta by myself." 
You were mostly trying to avoid the living room where Nancy, Robin, and Eddie were all settled, but Steve was right, the kitchen was far too small for you to be taking up space while he tries to cook for five. With a sigh you make the short journey over to the couch, wedging yourself next to Robin and quietly sipping on your drink, making a mental note to make the next one stronger. You easily fall into conversation, listening to Robin tell some story about when she and Steve used to work at an ice cream shop years ago, some exaggerated memory she kept referring to as "mint-chocolate-chip-gate," easily pulling laughs from all of you. 
Hours later, empty plates scattered around the small makeshift dining area, a few more drinks in your system, you had hardly thought about Eddie at all. You'd managed to avoid his snippy remarks for the majority of the evening, both relishing in the good feeling of the start of a week off. It was always when you felt the tension slip away that it came back harsher than ever. The five of you crowded around the small table, playing cards shuffled into a messy deck. Robin had started a never-have-I-ever game, although childish, still fun and silly as none of you took things too seriously. 
"Never have I ever," she searches her brain for something riveting, "faked an orgasm."
You and Nancy give her a fake-annoyed glance and take sips from your cups, not a huge surprise on anyone's part. 
"Not fair Rob," you say, looking up from your cup, "just because you only have sex with women doesn't mean you have to target those of us unfortunate enough to be attracted to men." You and Nancy laugh.
"Sounds like the unfortunate ones are the guys you're sleeping with," Eddie mumbles. You shoot daggers from your eyes at him, "I'm just saying, how can you expect it to be any good if you're not being honest."
"Fuck off," you roll your eyes, "I'm sure you've been on the receiving end of more than one faked orgasm, Munson, it's kind of a universal truth for all women."
"Well I don't know if I'd say that-" Nancy interjects, "universal truth is kind of a big claim."
"Never have I ever," Steve interrupts, clearly trying to change the conversation, "accidentally poured salt instead of sugar into my coffee while on a first date and was too embarrassed to say anything so I just drank the salty coffee and suffered in silence."
"Oh my god," you burst out, everyone giggling, "that was such a pointed attack! I'm never telling you anything ever again!" You take a sip from your drink, being the only person in the group who has experienced that oddly specific situation. 
"If you all are going to target me with the knowledge of friendship then I'm coming for all of your asses," you set down your drink and try to think of something that will surely get them to all drink, "Aha! I know, never have I ever had an orgasm during sex with a partner." Your mind was sort of still in the gutter from Robin's statement, and you knew for sure you'd get them all with this one, you knew that you were in a slim minority with that fact. It wasn't that you choose bad partners, well, that was sometimes part of it, but you just couldn't get to that place when someone else was doing it to you, only ever by yourself. You just figured it was a slight abnormality, and had resigned to a life of solo play and half decent but never truly fulfilling sexual encounters. 
Steve groans, annoyed you brought the conversation back to the sexual topics he had previously steered the group away from, taking a drink alongside everyone else. 
"Ha!" you gloat while everyone takes their long sips, "knew I'd get you all there. Keep trying to come for me with my oddly specific embarrassing stories and you'll all be sorry in the morning."
"I don't really think having a shit sex life is anything to brag about, y/n," Eddie snips at you. 
"I'm not bragging, it's the whole point of the game to get people to drink, stupid," you shoot back, starting to regret revealing that level of personal information to him. 
"Well maybe if you weren't so busy faking your orgasms you'd actually chill out for long enough to actually have one," he hurls back, the thick tension settling between the two of you.
"Jesus, Eddie, mind your own fucking business," you feel blood rushing to your face and your jaw tenses up. 
"You were the one who brought it up, sweetheart," you hated how calm his voice still was, raising his hands up in fake defense, "never have I ever NOT made my partner come."
"Oh fuck off," your voice was seething, "you can't say that. There's, like, no definitive way to prove that's even true!"
"No, I'm pretty sure I know it's true," he was so fucking smug and it annoyed you to no end.  
"OKAY," Steve breaks the awkward silence that had settled around the rest of the group, "I want to play cards, what do we think? Cards? Anyone?"
'Yeah, whatever,'' you felt bad if you had accidentally ruined the fun everyone was having, but it wasn't your fault Eddie decided to be such a dick about it. You help Steve shuffle the cards and start dealing, letting the heated energy dissipate around you as you wiggled your way back into normal conversation with everyone.
Several rounds of cards and a few drinks later the night took hold of the group and sent Nancy off to bed, Robin off to search for some advil that she knew she'd be grateful for in the morning, and Steve mostly asleep slumped in his chair at the table. You gently shook him awake and he grumbled a thank you and a goodnight as he dragged his body down the hall to his bed. This left you and Eddie with a half decent mess between the drinks, the aftermath of dinner, and the cards. He had started to gather the cards back into their deck while you debated on taking care of the dishes or putting it off until morning, ultimately deciding that tomorrow-you would be very thankful if tonight-you sucked it up and just cleaned up now. 
"I got the rest," you start picking up everyones mostly empty cups and moving into the kitchen to tackle the mountain of dishes. Jeez Steve, how many pots does it take to boil pasta for five people? "Night, see you tomorrow," you say without turning back to look at Eddie. 
He came up next to you and grabbed the dry towel off the counter, taking the soapy cup from your hand and wiping it away before stacking it on a clear part of the countertop. 
"You wash, I'll dry, yeah?" he's already moved onto the next plate you had sponged down.
"It's really fine Eddie, I've got it," you appreciate the sentiment, but didn't like feeling so cramped standing with him in the small kitchen. 
"I have manners, you know," he makes a harsh gesture to the dishes, urging you to get on with washing, which you do, "plus I'm not gonna let you take all the credit for cleaning up after everyone, you aren't anyone's mother or maid here." 
You weren't really sure how to take that, but decided to ignore it as you continued to scrub away, silently handing him the dripping dishes as you finished cleaning them. 
"I know you don't really care for me," you start, feeling the need to fill the awkward silence between you, "but can we please not make Steve and them regret inviting us both? Like, I know you're capable of being civil. I just really don't want to spend this whole trip walking on eggshells worrying that we're ruining the fun. So, this is me apologizing for anything I do this upcoming week that pisses you off for whatever reason, just know I didn't do it on purpose, and it's not worth freaking out over. I'm just trying to have a good time here, that's all."  
You really couldn't tell if you felt relieved or more anxious after saying all that to him. You meant it. You really didn't want to drag any unnecessarily tense baggage around with you while everyone was just trying to enjoy their trip. You wanted him to know this, at least to feel like the blame was off your back if he was a dick to you, at least you tried to clear the air on night one. 
"What? Still got your panties in a bunch over that game?" you didn't have to look over at him to hear the smirk in his voice, "Because I remember you were the one getting all in a huff about it."
"This is exactly what I'm talking about," you turn over sharply to look at him, "please just stop being such an asshole to me."
"Learn to take a joke, sweetheart," he had been drying the same mug for a little too long now, "that stick up your ass is probably the reason you can't reach the big O."
"Please, for the love of god, fuck off," you tried to not raise your voice too much given everyone's sleeping state, "What do you want me to say? Hmmm? 'Oh Eddie, I'm so jealous of all those girls you make come with your magical guitar fingers, oooooooooh, please pick me'." You roll your eyes and prepare to storm off to bed when his whole posture shifts in front of you. 
"Magical guitar fingers? Hmmm?" he's really making you regret saying that, even sarcastically, you start putting the rags away, wanting to just finish up the dishes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. "You said it babe, not me."
"You're so insufferable," you bring your fingers to your temple, Eddie Muson manifesting as a special form of personal headache.
"This is exactly what I'm saying," he mockingly gestures to you, "you're the one always getting so worked up over nothing, I'm as cool as a cucumber, I think the problem might be you."
"Is everything a fucking joke to you? Can you really not be serious for three fucking seconds while I try to be straight with you about us getting along on this trip?" Your grip on the dish towel tightening. 
"Me? Joking? About something so serious and romantic as having precious y/n her first orgasm with my 'magical guitar fingers' that she so obviously fantasizes about? I would never." He clasps his hands across his chest, always the fucking jester. 
In a moment of white hot rage, and wanting to put him in his place, and only a tiny fraction fueled by your physical attraction to him, as much as you've tried to fight that off, you march the three steps in between the two of you and grab his wrist in your hand, holding his hand up in between the two of you.
'Fine, do it then," you maintain harsh eye contact with him, your faces only a few inches apart, "you won't. Better yet, I don't even think you could." 
For the first time, you felt as if you had the upper hand, you had never rendered him speechless before. He always had some snippy comeback to everything you said, at a rapid fire pace that was honestly impressive given how subtly clever his remarks were. 
"You wanna bet?" He cocks his head at you, trailing behind just a beat slower than he normally would. 
You just raise your eyebrows and glance down at his hand, still in your grasp, lips pursed and voice secretly caught in your throat. 
"You just say the word," he starts, voice slightly softening, "and I bet you that I can make you come using just this hand- scratch that, just these three fingers," he lowers his pointer and pinky, leaving his middle two and thumb sticking up, "in less than five minutes right here in this goddamn kitchen."
"Yeah, for what?" were you seriously considering this? Why were your thighs clenching together? 
"I make you come, and not only do I get to live in your memory forever as the first idiot who had the sense to make you finish, but you're gonna be so sweet to me the rest of the trip. Make my drinks, fetch my lighter, roll all my joints with those cute little dexterous fingers of yours, be nothing but pleasant and lovely without the slightest hint of attitude." His words made you fume, but you were also inexplicably turned on, his breath fanning across your face as he spoke sending tingles down your spine. 
"And when you can't, what then?" you tried to match his level of composure, but the gleam in his eye told you that he saw straight through your facade. 
"If-" he starts, "you manage to hold out on me and I can't get that pretty pussy of yours to gush all over my super magical talented guitar fingers, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the trip. We never bring it up again, or you can tease me about it for the rest of our lives, totally up to you. But I'll be so civil and polite you'll hardly recognize me the rest of this trip."
You let your grasp fall from his wrist, holding your unsteady hand out to him to shake, "Deal." 
He truly thought you were bluffing up until this point. When you had first met he had been impressed with how sharp you were, how you managed to meet his level of sarcasm so easily. At least he thought you had been sarcastic, after a few fumbled interactions he got the vibe that you weren't joking around with him in the jabby-playful way he was. If he was honest wit himself, he knew he sort of used this as a defense mechanism when meeting new people. Put up the walls and if they didn't like him, that was just fine.
The tension in the air was as thick as it had ever been between the two of you. You refused to break eye contact, refused to let him win. As much as you'd like to think this would be an easy way to put an end to his snarky attitude, there was no denying that a large part of you was excited, if not intrigued at the prospect of him touching you like that. Eddie was hot, you had never denied that. But the butterflies in your stomach and slight buckle of your knees indicated a little bit more than surface level attraction. 
Breaking the handshake he takes a few purposeful steps forward, backing you against the nearest counter. He places a hand on either side of your body, caging you in, leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear, voice low and raspy. 
"We doing this, babe? You say the word and I'll let it go now, but otherwise I'm gonna need you to unbutton those cute jeans for me."
There was no way in hell you were turning back at this point. You try to give him your best 'fuck you' expression and say, "Can't even unbutton my pants, how the hell are you gonna make me come?" Regardless, you follow his request and unbutton your pants, and better yet, slip them down your legs to let them pool at your feet.
You were still locked in between his arms against the counter, closer than you had ever been to him. As your pants hit the floor, you notice his gaze flicker down to get a look at you, then quickly back up to your face. All the while he had shifted over slightly, arm now fiddling with a dial on the stovetop. He was setting a timer, cocky bastard. He adjusts the stovetop cook timer to five minutes and casually hits the enter button, as if he had nothing to prove, as if the few extra seconds meant nothing to him. 
He brings his attention back to you, knowing you were fully aware of the timer he had just set. Rather than plunging his hand straight into your already dampening underwear, his first move was surprisingly to bend down slightly and cup the backside of your knee, lifting one foot out of the pant leg that was scrunched around your ankles. From the crook of your knee, his hand slowly moved up your thigh, giving it a squeeze, acting as if he wasn't on any sort of time constraint. As promised, once he reaches your underwear he only uses one of the three promised fingers, running the tip of his middle digit along the top elastic of your panties, quirking an eyebrow, looking at you for one last assurance of consent before the two of you crossed the line. You give him a curt nod, knowing what his questioning glance meant, and with that he dips his hand into your simple cotton underwear. 
Once again, you almost expected him to just shove his fingers inside of you and get on with it, but he took several long moments to run his middle two fingers up and down your slit, never entering your hole, but collecting some of your wetness and dragging it up to massage the hood of your clit gently. You wouldn't have been surprised if the oven timer went off at any given moment. It felt like he had been touching you for far longer than five minutes, despite only forty seconds having been passed. He continued to gently roll your clit between his fingers, placing one on either side of your bud and just letting them slowly massage it back and forth. 
You were slowly losing control of your composure. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction, but a shallow gasp that you were sure he noticed escaped you. You mentally prepared yourself for a comment from him, a chuckle or signature smirk. Eddie never shut the fuck up, you wouldn't have been surprised if that was true in the bedroom too, or in this case, the kitchen. What did surprise you was the breathy "Good girl, that's it" he mumbled into the side of your face as he increased the pressure of his fingers ever so slightly, "just like that, relax for me, doing so well."
Fuck. 
Your body responded to his words before your mind could make the conscious decision to, and you melted back into the countertop slightly with an exhale. His foot wedged in between your legs slowly slid them open a bit more, letting his ripped denim clad leg settle in between yours, his hand sinking a bit lower and slowly entering you with just his middle finger. The hand that wasn't occupied with your pussy gently came down to toy with the band of your still-on underwear, gently tugging them down as he managed to slip his second finger into you. 
"That's it," he began to curl them ever so slightly, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him, "your pussy's so pretty, so good, sucking my fingers right in." 
His two middle fingers were sunk all the way into you, and he was moving them in a way that had you involuntarily drop your jaw and let shallow whimpers out with every roll and thrust. This was entirely different than anything you had ever experienced before. Up until now, 'getting fingered' for you was an annoyingly uncomfortably forplay where your partner would shove a hand in and out too fast just to make sure you were wet enough to proceed with the act. Eddie wasn't even bringing his fingers out of you, he settled them in and wiggled them around until he noticed your breath catch, and just let them push into this spot that you didn't know you had. Your own fingers never could reach that deep and his were filling you perfectly, thumb toying with your clit, not too hard, but just enough to add to the sensation. Damn, he was good at this.
When his fingers finally hit that new spot inside you your body reacted with a subtle roll forward of your hips and your head fell back to rest against the cabinets, eyes fluttering shut on their own accord. "Mmm, there it is," his voice was still gentle against your ear as he continued to make you gasp and squirm, "anyone ever find this pretty little spot inside you before?" He let his fingers slide all the way out of you, spreading some wetness from your hole up to your clit with a few circular motions before sinking back down inside you. 
You were biting the inside of your lip, no longer trying to hide your reactions from him, but trying to keep them quiet enough to not wake anyone in the cabin up. You wouldn't dare answer his questions out loud in your state, but you give him a quick shake of your head to indicate that, no, no one had ever touched you quite like this before. 
"Such a fucking shame," he increased the pressure on your clit, not increasing speed at all, but just curling his fingers a little harder, swirling his thumb a bit more deliberately, "bet you'd make such gorgeous noises for me too, can't have anyone wake up and find us like this though, yeah? Those pretty little whimpers are for me only."
Why were his words doing more to you than his hands? Not that you had any complaints about the care and attention he was giving your center, but his face pressed so close to you, letting out sweeter words than you had ever heard from him, that was what was making your walls tighten around his two fingers. Your mind had completely slipped away from the timer, no longer questioning whether you had three seconds or three minutes left, all you could do was feel. 
There was a soft squelching coming from where his hand made contact with your pussy, wetness coating his fingers and spreading to your thighs with each of his shallow thrusts. While you would typically feel a little embarassed, hearing your own arousal only turned you on more, that along with Eddie's soft "mmmm, that's it" and "good fucking girl." 
You were starting to feel it, that familiar tightening. Familiar, but so different from when you got yourself there. It was the difference of jumping into water versus being pushed in. When you jump in yourself, you have time to build up the courage and the cold water is less of a surprise and more of an inevitability. This was as if someone had thrown you over their shoulder and could fling you in at any moment, entirely out of your control. You feel your head start to spin, your walls start to tighten. 
Before you could let the tightening band in your lower half snap, any thought of purposely holding back and trying to not come for the sake of the bet was far gone, he takes his unoccupied hand and harshly tugs on your chin. Your head had started to roll back, pressing against the cabinets for support, eyes fluttering shut as you almost reached your peak. You were jolted back to reality as he cups your jaw and forces your head to stay upright. 
"Eyes open," your impending orgasm teetering right on the edge, you would do anything he said in this moment, "you're going to keep your eyes open and look at me while I make you come." His words with a few more expert swipes of his thumb against your throbbing clit had you gasping for air. It was truly unlike any orgasm you had ever experienced. 
You tried your best to follow his directions, keeping your eyes as open as you could, maintaining eye contact with him through your high as your mouth dropped open and your moans caught in your throat, silently shaking and thriving as the tension in your body eased out in waves of pleasure. His gaze burned into you, fingers keeping such a steady and consistent pace as you rode out your peak. Mumbled phrases escaped him and only made your orgasm last that much longer. Why the fuck was Eddie Munson calling you "pretty girl" making your legs shake? This shouldn't be happening. That had never been a turn on before, none the less coming from a man you typically found insufferable. 
With the last pulse of your walls you found yourself acting on pure adrenaline, you completely blame the endorphins for your next action. His hand was still firmly planted on the side of your head and your thoughts were spinning so fast, you had to ground yourself, and your body decided that lurching forward and kissing Eddie was how you were going to do that. Fingers still slowly rolling inside of you, thumb now coming to rest on your overstimulated clit, he was taken aback by your action, but leaned into the kiss and swiped his wet tongue through your bitten swollen lips as you melted into him. As soon as you felt fully entangled in him, completely consumed by his hands, mouth, scraggly hair, all of him. You jerked back, quickly apologizing, "Fuck, uh, sorry, I-" 
He slowly drags his hand out of your drenched thighs as you try to find words, bringing his two fingers up between his lips to suck them clean. You wanted to moan out at the sight but were still scrambling to figure out what the fuck just happened. He casually leans over and pauses the oven timer with a beep.
"Hey, 4:20, nice!" you roll your eyes at his immature comment, "we have forty more seconds on the clock, wanna go again?" he jokes. 
You were so far beyond caring about this bet, you had way bigger issues to tackle than having to wait hand and foot on Eddie for the rest of this trip. You awkwardly pull up your wet panties and readjust your pants around your legs, not sure what to do or say. 
"Was that good? Better than when you do it yourself?" he asks, sarcasm indetectable in his voice but you were sure it had to be there.
"Do you actually care to know or do you just want to hear me say it? Fine Eddie, you win. You have magical sex fingers and made me come in like three minutes, congratulations. It was great, the best orgasm of my life. You were right, you told me so." 
"Well that's great to hear and all but I wasn't looking for an ego boost or anything, babe," his tone was lighthearted and you weren't expecting it, "I just know it's like wayyyy different for me when its my hand versus another person, not to mention the difference between all the holes and whatnot."
"Gross!" you laugh and scrunch up your nose, not noticing how he was pouring you a glass of water. 
"I'm just saying!" He holds his hands up defensively as he silently hands the cup to you, "I've never experienced a female orgasm so I just wanted to know if it was any different than when you use the showerhead."
"Oh my god I-" you start, in between gulps of water.
"Oh, don't even start," he cuts you off, "we both know that all girls do that, don't try and be all shy with me now babe, I know what your 'oh' face looks like."
You feel a heat rise to your cheeks and you bury your gaze down into your almost empty glass of water. "Yeah Eddie, it was different and it was better. Your fingers rank higher than the jet setting of my shower head, do you want a trophy?" This sort of banter usually had a sharper edge to it between you, but there was a new softness and humor to the way you communicated. Maybe he was just being nice because he felt bad for you, because you were so desperate that you came from three fingers on a kitchen counter in less time than most top forty radio hits. 
"I'm glad it was good for you," he says, almost sincerely, "night sweetheart." With that he turned around and exited the kitchen, keeping his composure all the way down the hall until he could burst into his room, rid himself of his clothes, and pull his cock at the thought of how you felt wrapped around his fingers, the little whimpers and noises you made, how you looked right at him as you came, how you kissed him afterwards. 
You were left somewhat dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the kitchen with an empty cup in your hands, looking around as if something else was going to happen. You weren’t expecting him to invite you back to his bed for a cuddle or anything like that, but you had just experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life followed up by some joking conversation and a friendly cup of water? It just didn't feel right. Then again, who the fuck has their first orgasm from someone else while being timed. 
You didn't regret it though. You actually felt a sense of relief. While you were pretty aware that your past sexual partners had been a bit selfish or underwhelming, a part of you had always wondered if that part of you was broken. If there was a part of your brain that would never let you reach that vulnerable state at the hands of someone else. That you would only ever trust yourself to let go and feel that kind of pleasure. Nope. Not broken. Definitely not broken. 
You feel like you're in a trance as you walk back to your room, shower, slip into pajamas and drift off to sleep. You started to wonder how the energy would be between you and Eddie in the morning, but as soon as you gave it any thought your brain decided it was time to shut down. You'd deal with it when it happened. 
Your head still felt cloudy the next morning, processing the sexual high and confusing social situation you now found yourself in. You knew one thing for sure, you'd never be able to look at Eddie again without thinking about last night. Suddenly the thought of him playing guitar, shuffling a deck of cards, smoking a joint, all felt inherently sexual to you despite never having that connotation before. You were fucked. 
What's even worse is when you tried to rub one out in the shower to ease some of your nerves before going downstairs for coffee all you could think of was comparing how your hand felt to Eddie's. It's like he put a stupid curse on you, that all your orgasms would now feel half hearted. It's like you were hungry and were served a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when you could smell a chef preparing a five star meal in the room over. Sure, a PB&J is fine, but now that you've had fine dining it just didn't quite cut it. On top of that your newly corrupted brain couldn't help but theorize about what else Eddie was capable of. He made you come in basically four minutes with three fingers. As soon as you let your mind wander you pull yourself out of it, make the shower as cold as your body can stand, and gear up to face the music, or at least put on an awkward front in front of all of your friends. 
You were the first person in the kitchen, but you heard a fair amount of shuffling going on around the creaky cabin so you suspect your friends will be down soon. You take it upon yourself to put on a full pot of coffee and survey the pantry for breakfast options. 
"Morning, y/n," Steve greets you passively, eyes clearly set on the coffee that's almost done brewing. 
"Oh wow, did you do the dishes last night?" Nancy inquires, her and Robin taking their places at the table while everyone waits for the coffee to finish. 
"Oh yeah, it was nothing. Eddie and I did it, only took like five minutes," you wince at yourself.
"Were the two of you up real late?" Steve questions, "I tried to get him up a minute ago but he was knocked out." 
"Oh," you start, relying on pouring coffee to everyone as an excuse to not make any eye contact, "I'm not really sure, we were only really up for like ten, twenty minutes after you all went to bed. Maybe he stayed up late in his room." None of it was a lie. 
"Whatever, let him sleep this beautiful day away," Steve's whole demeanor changed after a single sip of caffeine, "I say we go down to the dock and check out that canoe, maybe have lunch on the dock? Could be nice." 
A murmur of agreement among the group settled the plans for the day, relaxing by the lake, doing exactly what you had intended this trip to be about. You all scarfed down quick breakfast and coffee and separated to change into swimwear. You hated that you thought of Eddie as you picked out your swimsuit. Did he even see you like that? When he called you pretty last night, was that all part of an act to win some stupid bet? You'd be better off assuming so, you decide, you don't want to get wrapped up in your own thoughts about how he thinks of you only to be totally wrong. But you secretly did hope that he'd check you out at least once.
You sprawled out on a big towel on the rickety dock, letting Robin, Nance, and Steve figure out the canoe. It didn't look like it could comfortably for more than two, and three was pushing it, so you decided to sit this one out considering the lake water looked a little murky. You set yourself up comfortably with a glass of lemonade and a book you were halfway through, letting the sun sink into your skin and illuminate the pages as you squinted at the words through the sunshine. You could hear their friendly bickering off in the distance, their canoe now a tiny speck off on the horizon of the lake. You could occasionally hear Robin shriek as Steve threatened to tip them all over. 
You felt the dock creek behind you before he said anything, not bothering to turn around from your comfortable position, knowing it couldn't be anyone but Eddie. He made his way down to your towel, inviting himself to plop down next to you and dip his toes into the lake below. He was only in his boxers and a ratty tshirt, a mostly full cup of black coffee sloshing around in the mug he held.
He made you nervous, not sure what the energy would be like between the two of you now. You almost felt worried that nothing would have changed at all. You ignored the buzzing in your abdomen and kept your eyes on your book as he kicked up the lakewater and sipped his coffee next to you, seeming comfortable in your mutual silence. 
“Reading anything good?” you knew he’d be the one to break the silence, ever the chatty Cathy. You were surprised at the genuine question rather than a smart remark or joke at your expense. 
You told him what you thought of your current read, filling him in a bit on the general plot. Part of you decided that you no longer had the right to give him the edge you usually did. He had won the upper hand fair and square and you were willing to accept that. You could play nice, play by his rules. 
You felt like your conversation was going well, or well enough. He asked to see your book, which you willfully handed over. You’d regret doing that. He dog-eared the page you were on and quickly set your book off to the back of the deck before moving at lightning speed and scooping you up and hurling you through the air and into the lake water. What the actual fuck was his problem. 
Before you could even register the cold lake water you emerge from your splash and gasp for air. You don’t even have a moment to find where the dock is to cuss him out before you see his cannonballed form fly above you and crash into the lake next to you. His shirt and coffee were abandoned with your book and he emerged from the water with that stupid goofy smile. 
That stupid goofy smile that made you less mad that he had thrown you in the lake. What was wrong with you? You should be pissed. Why did his annoying antics suddenly make you feel giggly? You knew exactly why, but wouldn't allow yourself to think about it for longer than a moment. 
“Eddie you bitch!” you splash him as soon as you can locate him and that stupid smile. You couldn’t help but smile too. He knew you wouldn’t stay mad. The two of you play-wrestle for a moment, splashing each other and taking turns pushing the other under the lake’s surface.
“I was reading,” you continue to protest. 
“And now you’re swimming!” He splashes you again, “We’re on a lake trip, y/n, not a library trip.”
You debated swimming out to where the canoe was, but mutually decided that sounded like too much work. Instead you took turns jumping off the dock and diving down to the bottom of the lake for rocks and other random junk. Eddie even found an old boat anchor. 
Once the other three came in from their canoe adventure you all ate packed sandwiches for lunch in the sunshine on the dock. You couldn’t help but take in the moment, knowing you'd be nostalgic for it in the future. You were surrounded by some of your best friends without a care in the world, only focused on pb&j sandwiches and who was going to make the fire later. 
After a backyard bonfire and several failed attempts at roasting hot dogs on sticks you all started to slow down and let the day in the sun take you to bed. You showered the feeling of lakewater off your skin and out of your hair with lots of soap and as hot of water as the cabin would allow. You thought you’d cozy up in bed and read some more of your book, or even crash right to sleep, but a nagging feeling kept pulling at you. 
As sleepy as you wanted to be, and as interesting as your book was, your mind couldn’t pull itself away from the idea of what Eddie was doing down the hall. It was late enough that the others were probably asleep, you probably should be too. After rereading the same sentence four times you decided to abandon your book and just follow your curiosities. 
Before your better judgment could stop you, you lightly knocked at Eddie’s door and cracked it open. You peek around the sturdy wooden door to see him propped up on the headboard, shirtless with a giant book in his lap. His lean chest and arms were littered with random tattoos, nothing you hadn't seen before swimming or when he wore those unbuttoned and ripped up shirts that he often did, but this time you couldn't help but stare at them. 
“Sure just come right in,” he comments with a joking tone as you peek around the corner of his door. 
“Sorry, sorry,” you half whisper through gritted teeth, “I just-” 
You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You just what? Were curious about what he was doing? Wanted to see him? Wanted to know what he would say if you came to his room?
To your surprise he shifts to the side of his bed and opens a space next to him, lifting the sheet that covers his lower half and patting the space next to him. Your eyes widened in surprise a bit before you moved a bit too enthusiastically across the room and settled onto the mattress next to him. 
“Hope I’m not bothering you,” you start, genuinely feeling bad if you were intruding. 
“You? Not at all. I’ve only read The Lord of the Rings eighty times or so,” he turns over the enormous book in his lap. 
“Wow, I didn’t know you could read,” you immediately felt bad, but knew your tone was joking enough to be permissible. 
“Very funny,” he sets the book on his nightside table, turning his attention to you. You suddenly felt a spotlight on you, a sudden stage to explain the reason you showed up in his room. Truthfully you didn’t have one. Or, you didn’t have the words to tell him why. 
“I-” you start, noticing how small your voice sounded, “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Is that so?” He looked genuinely surprised. 
“Yeah, I just-” you still don’t know where you’re going with this, “I just wanted to apologize if I ever gave you the impression that I didn’t like you. I know we kind of go back and forth a lot, but I never really meant to make you feel like I dislike being around you. I just want to start over with you, if that’s okay?”
“Is this because you know all the rumors about my magic guitar fingers are true,” he smirked and leaned his head into yours, an action that would typically make your blood boil that you now found endearing. 
“No- well yes- but no,” you couldn’t help but be flustered, finding yourself fidgeting with the hem of his sheet that you had tucked your feet under, knees pushed up against your chest, “I just thought that things were going to be really awkward between us today, or that you were going to be a huge asshole to me. But I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been fair to you, and maybe you weren’t fair to me either, so it would be nice to start over?”
“Do you want to start over right now, or do you want to start over, including last night?” He already knew that even if the two of you ‘started over’ neither of you could forget, or even pretend to forget what had transpired in the kitchen. You let out a sigh. You were thinking the same thing.
“Up to yout,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ll leave and never bring it up again, but I can't pretend like I haven’t been thinking about it since it happened.”
“Is that so?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“Shut up, you know it is,” you bump his shoulder with yours. 
“Is it because you touched yourself and realized it didn’t feel the same?” his voice grew deeper, and you could feel his gaze pressing into the side of your face, “or because you imagined it was my fingers between those pretty legs of yours.”
You couldn’t help your head from falling back against his headboard and eyes to find solace in the ceiling before gathering the courage to answer him. His face was already inches from your neck, all you needed to do was close the gap, but a part of you was still worried. 
You look tentatively into his eyes, big and brown and drawing you in, but you don't let yourself lean in all the way. You had initiated the first kiss between you two last night in the kitchen and had been shaken with worry that you had crossed a line. You didn't want to embarrass yourself again, so you held back. What if he thought that was too intimate? You hoped he didn't. Even though it had left you tense and anxious, kissing him was just as memorable as the orgasm he had given you. You remembered how his mouth tasted, how he slipped his tongue past your lips immediately, how you didn't have to think about anything other than how he was making you feel. 
Eddie, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were thinking. He knew that he'd left you a bit high and dry last night. If he was being honest, he wanted to stay in that kitchen and kiss you over and over, offering to take you to bed, his bed. He left for two reasons: he wanted to maintain whatever aura of mystery and intrigue he had garnered by making you feel so good, the tensions were high and it felt right to keep the game up, Eddie enjoyed the cat and mouse, back and forth that the two of you had, and this had taken it to an incredibly fun and elevated state, and he had to leave to release his cock from the confines of his pants. If he was going to fuck you, he was going to fuck you right, and if you had stayed in that kitchen any longer he would have either busted in his pants or promptly three seconds after you made any sort of move on him.
He knew you were nervous. That you found him hard to read and unpredictable. That's probably why the two of you never really got along, and he knew it. He knew that the orgasm he gave you was the most pleasure you had ever felt, and that you hadn't stopped thinking about it for a moment since. It was written all over your face. He couldn't blame you. If he had never had the pleasure of climaxing during sex or at the hands of another person he surely would be in a spell over it too. He knew you needed to be taken care of, and that he had proved himself to be trustworthy of doing so. 
While you were caught in your own head debating whether Eddie would kiss you or not, it only takes him a split second to crane his neck around to meet your face and catch your lips in a kiss backed by purpose and intent. He knew how to read your body language. Eddie grew up worrying what everyone around him was thinking of him, or what they were planning to do to him/ He knew how to tell when someone was angry or upset or disgusted. An arch of an eyebrow or a twitch of a hand could mean the smallest things, things that always came back to bite Eddie. He also could tell that your breath was caught in your throat and you were overthinking still, he knew to let the kiss linger for a moment and let you find your footing before deepening it.
The moment he feels your shoulders relax a bit and your head lean ever so slightly into his, he cups the sides of your neck with his hands. Those hands. Littered with tiny stick and poke tattoos and those clunky metal rings. Who the fuck wears jewelry to bed? You had taken note of how his rings had felt shoved down the front of your underwear the night prior, and now you relished in how the distinct metal felt against the soft skin under your jaw. 
Last night you kissed him in the heat of the moment. Now he was kissing you. Really kissing you. Tugging on your bottom lip and running his tongue across yours until your stomach felt like you were on the dip of a roller coaster. Kissing you until you were breathless and your cheeks began to run hot, until you couldn't tell whose tongue was whose, or could hardly remember where you were or what time it was. You would have traded every sexual experience you'd had for what he did to you in the kitchen last night, and you'd trade every kiss up until now for the one you found yourself in. 
His hands were in your hair, and his lips moved from yours, now wet and pouty, down to your neck. He kissed, licked, nipped, sucked against your skin, gently tugging your hair in the direction he wanted to open your neck up for him. When his bottom teeth dragged across a particular spot in between your jaw and ear a soft moan escaped your lips. You immediately sucked in a sharp breath.
"MmmHmmm," he mumbles into you, still attacking that spot that had elicited the noise, "let me hear you."
You let out a groan and moved to straighten your neck, wanting his mouth on yours again. The hand in your hair kapt you exactly where he wanted though, now using a touch more force. 
"You wanna know a secret?" the hand not in your hair ran up and down your rib cage underneath your shirt, trailing from the band of your pants up to the underside of your breast and then gently back down, "Do you know what you do to me?"
"Mmmm, no what?" you could hardly recognize your own voice, now pitched up and airy. 
"Those pretty noises you made for me, and the thought of you wrapped around my fingers has been driving me crazy all day, y/n. Do you know what I thought about while I jerked off last night? Those moans, and that pretty cunt you have, and the gorgeous face you made when I got you there. It's all I can see when I look at you now. It made me come so fucking hard last night and it's gonna take a lot of time and illegal substances to make me forget it." 
You wiggled your hips up into his touch, wanting him to move faster but knowing he was going to take everything at his pace whether you liked it or not. "Fuck Eddie," he sucked on your earlobe and continued to bite against your soft skin, "you think I'm pretty?" You sounded fucking pathetic, you wouldn't have caught yourself dead asking any boy that, let alone Eddie before tonight. 
"Pretty? I think those little moans you make are pretty. And that cunt you have, prettiest I've ever seen. That little bikini you had on today, that was pretty too. You wear that for me?"
"Maybe," you gasp out as his hand dared to venture lower, still over your pajama pants but dipping up and down where he knew your wet slit was. 
"Sure, lots of things about you are plenty pretty, but fuck," he loved how responsive you were, already rolling your hips against his hand despite the layers of fabric preventing you from getting what you really wanted, "You? you really are somethin' else." 
He could tell you were tired of his teasing, so in between kisses he tugs your shirt up and lets you pull it over your head. He presses your warm skin against his, using all his strength to stay in the moment and feel how nice your tits feel squished up against him, rather than immediately ravish you. He'll get to that, he knows you deserve his patience. 
“Just-” you gathered your thoughts, “tell me you want me too, that this isn’t some sort of power trip or pity fuck. I don’t want it if this is some game to you.”
His heart sank a bit at your inquiry, worried that you thought of last night as some sort of power trip for him, although that was what the two of you had framed it as, a power play. He knew there was something deeper and hoped you had felt that too.
“Of course I want you. As much as it was nice to put you in your place, you brat, I didn't make you come to prove anything. I made you come because I wanted to.” 
“Will you do it again?” your voice was barely a wiper, your neck craning around to meet his intense gaze. 
“Again with my fingers,” he shifted so you were now slumped beneath him, his leg slotting comfortably between yours and his hands coming to cup your cheeks, shoulders angled above yours and hair creating a perfect curtain around your faces, “and my tongue, and my cock,” he leaned down to kiss you, “and all the other ways you’ll let me show you.”
You were a mess. A puddle of arousal and swarming thoughts of nothing but Eddie. Your hands flew up to tangle themselves in his beautiful curls, massaging the nape of his strong neck. The most passionate and enthusiastic kiss you had ever participated in. You were on fire for him. Any former doubt or worry that the actions of last night had on you dissipated into the air along with the breathy moans you couldn’t help but let out in between kisses and touches. 
His knee pushed your thighs apart and you willingly splayed yourself out like a ragdoll for him to move and manipulate under him however he pleased. Before you could focus on his hands dipping into your underwear, he bit at your lower lip and pulled back, causing you to crane your neck and chase after his lips as he moved away. You were about to pout about the loss of contact, but his fingers dipping through your wet folds were plenty distracting. He sits back a bit to focus on pulling down your pants and underwear while still stroking you with his opposite hand.
You were too busy squirming under him, both from his slow methodical fingers against your cunt and a half hearted attempt to kick off your garments that were now pushed around your knees to notice his unwavering gaze that raked over your newly exposed body. His resolve was about to break, along with the dam that held back his desire and excitement to feel every inch of you, to make you feel good, to be the first person to make you feel good. He had always thought you were gorgeous, but picking fights is a lot easier than trying to flirt so he settled for riling you up the only way he thought he could. 
He swats backwards to assist you in removing your final articles of clothing which are caught on your ankles, and as he leans back forward into you he sinks two thick fingers into you with a smirk on his face. It was a sudden stretch, but you'd be lying if you said you weren’t wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance. Your eyes want to squeeze shut, but you can't help but keep your sight locked on the shit eating grin that spreads across Eddie's face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He had made you fall apart in just over four minutes last night, and now he was going to take his time and have his fun with you. How could he not? You were so responsive to him, whimpering and writhing with every small movement, muscles tensing and your perfect lips parting open every time he curled his fingers upwards or brushed your clit with his palm. 
He swoops down to give your tits some attention, and you let yourself tangle your fingers into his unruly curls. Between licks and nips he mumbles into your skin, "so fuckin' perfect" and  "doing so good for me." He can feel your walls squeezing his fingers, soaking his palm, so he slows his roll a bit, wanting to draw you out a bit longer. You wanted to pull him up for a kiss, but he was deeply concentrating on sucking the perfect purple hickey to the underside of your breast. You could have sworn you heard "mine" come out of his mouth in between sucks and heavy breathing, but you couldn't be sure. 
Once he released your skin with a wet pop, you tugged at his hair to beg for a kiss. Eddie liked you all whiney and desperate for him though, so he just lets you tug on his hair as hard a you want as he continues moving down your body, teeth dragging across your ribcage, his hot flat tongue licking a stripe across your hip bone just before blowing a stream of cool air across the new wet trail. All the while his fingers slowly rolled inside of you, making this delicious wiggling motion that had you feeling full and seeing stars. 
He pulls his fingers out of you, taking a mental picture of how hot it was that your slick had soaked him down to his rings. Before you can sit up with any sort of protest, he cups his hands on the backs of your thighs and pushes forward to effectively fold you in half. Your head perks up, about to inform him that he is wildly overestimating your flexibility, he cuts you off. 
"Just lay back," his hands run up and down from your inner knees down to your ass and back up, "lay back and let me make you feel good, you can do that for me, yeah?"
"Yeah okay," you breathe out as he places a tender kiss to the part of your thigh just under your bent knee, a part of you that had never had any sexual connotation before, and now the feeling of his lips were permanently seared into the skin there. 
The last thing you caught sight of before your eyes rolled into the back of your head was Eddie spitting straight onto your pussy, not that it wasn't wet enough already, and immediately going in to lick a fat stripe up the middle of your center. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he repeated the action, his grip on the meat of your thighs tightening and leaving fingerprint sized indents. He attached his lips to your clit and rolled it against his tongue in a way that you had never experienced. 
Sure, you'd been on the receiving end of head before, but not like this. It had always been a 'hey, I just need to make sure your pussy is wet enough for my dick' sort of situation and never a 'it would be my pleasure to die here in between your thighs' situation. The moans that escaped you were shaky and broken, unlike the noises coming from between your legs, a sinful combination of wet slurping and Eddie deeply moaning and humming approval into you as he ate you out. 
Your legs began to shake, partially from your growing orgasm, and partly from this advanced yoga position Eddie had you in. He slid a hand down from the juncture of your leg to toy with the pooling wetness at your hole. You let your wobbly hand replace his holding your knee back for him, keeping you spread open and on display as he stuffed two fingers into you, continuing to suck on your clit. 
"Ohmyfuckinggod," your words slurred together in a high pitched moan, "Eddie- Eddie, fuck." You were no longer in control of the noises coming out of your mouth, a barely coherent slew of Eddie's name, 'fuck's' and 'please.'
He groaned into your cunt, picking up the pace and curling his fingers into you just like he had the night before, this time with the added pleasure of his mouth devouring you. You were not long for this world. 
'You're gonna make me come," you warned him, your voice sounding on the verge of a sob, "feels so fucking good, Eddie, please."
Your eyes screwed shut and legs fell from their pushed back position to clamp around his head as your orgasm took over you. Crashing waves of pleasure that were pulling you out like a riptide. All you can feel is the release, hardly noticing your shaking legs or broken moans. Eddie moves up to catch your lips in a deep, wet kiss, slowing his hand as you ride out the end of your orgasm, still quivering around him. 
You were severely out of breath, but refused to break the kiss. His slick, swollen lips swallowed your moans and anchored you, bringing you back down to earth. 
"Mmmmm," he hums into the kiss, "you need to quiet down, unless you're tryina get me in trouble," he whispers into your lips, dipping down for another soft kiss as you regain your composure. 
"Fuck, sorry," you pant out. 
"Don't apologize to me," he slowly pulls his hand from your center and you wince slightly, "if it were just the two of us in this cabin I'd insist you let those pretty moans out to your heart's content."
"I'll be quiet," you reach down to palm him through his low hanging pajama pants, "will you please fuck me? Need to feel your cock in me so badly Eddie, I know you're gonna make me feel so good again."
A feral groan rumbles in his chest, head tilting back towards the ceiling as you stroke what felt to be an incredibly well endowed cock. 
"You sure you're up for it?" Now it was his turn to show the hint of neediness in his voice.
"Are you sure?" You question back, getting a better grip through the material of his pants.
"You know I wanna fuck you," he ruts into your hand ever so slightly, "but I need to hear you say it."
"I already did Eddie," you mumble into his neck, "Want your cock so bad, I want to make you feel good too."
He rolls over onto his back, and slips off his pants and boxers. You shift onto your knees next to him, unsure of what position he'd want you in. As his hard cock springs out of his elastic waistband and onto his stomach you lose control over your facial muscles and let your slack jaw hang open, eyes bulging slightly. 
"Wh-" a look of concern on his face grows as he notices your expression, looking from you, down to his cock, then back to you, "Oh! The piercing?"
You were completely frozen, because the only thing more shocking than the two little metal balls sticking out of his cockhead was the fact that Eddie Munson had a pornstar dick. Thick, long, girthy, perfectly curved, the most glorious shade of blushed pink. No wonder he had decided to bedazzle it, it was gorgeous. Not only was it the largest and most aesthetically pleasing dick you'd ever seen, in real life or photos, you sure as hell had never had one that big inside you. 
"Yeah, the piercing-" your voice trailed off, still gawking at it. 
"Shit, I'm sorry if you're like, super freaked out," the worry in his voice snapped you out of your trance, "I guess I maybe should have warned you-"
"No no," you were quick to correct his concern, reaching down to wrap your hand, which hardly fit, around it and give a few experimental strokes, "it's fucking perfect." You were visibly salivating, wanting to feel how the metal balls felt against your hot tongue. 
"I mean, it's okay I guess," you say, sitting up, "I wouldn't want to give you an ego or anything," joking sarcasm rolled off your tongue, "but fuck..." the way he twitched in your hand drew you back in, not thinking twice before leaning forward and letting your tongue run from the underside of his shaft up across the metal balls that decorated the head, all the way up to his leaking slit. Your tongue gathered his precum and went back to explore how the piercing felt against your lips, rolling it across your tongue, placing open mouthed kisses to the head. 
"Shit-" he hisses out, Eddie knew his dick was fine, maybe a little bigger than average or something, but no one had ever stopped to admire it, compliment it. Then again, most of Eddie's sexual escapades were just that, escapades. Random girls in bar bathrooms, quickies in the back of his van, a few weed customers who he didn't mind exchanging a good quick fuck for a discount. Sure, he'd heard the 'oh you're so big' line mid thrust, but everyone said that about the person they're fucking, right? 
After feeling his hips twitch a bit underneath you, you release his cock with a soft pop and climb on top of his torso. Grinding down on his hard length with a few slow forward rolls of your hips, you can't help but lurch forward and capture his lips in a kiss. You let out a deep moan as you feel the head of his cock catch your clit as you drag your wet folds up and down his shaft. Your foreheads stay pressed together as your mouth opens in a silent gasp, his hands coming down to guide your hips and dig his fingertips into your ass. 
"Fuck, princess," his voice was low and sexy, and the new nickname had you bucking your hips a little harder, "lay back and let me make you feel good again. This is all about me giving it to you right, yeah? So let me do all the work." 
You know his intentions were sweet, but you kept his hips pinned under yours. "Eddie I-" you pull back a bit to meet his eyes, "you can fuck me however you want in a bit, but... I've never had anything that big inside me before and..."
"Shhhh," his hands ran up and down your sides, "we can take it slow, promise. You can sit on my cock and take it at your own pace, let it fill you up right, don't wanna hurt you." 
With that you nudged his tip into your entrance ever so slightly, taking a moment to feel how his piercing dragged across your cunt and left a cool metal trail that sent a shiver down your spine. Once you slipped the head inside you, it really wasn't any different from an unpierced dick, other than the sheer girth of it. Your teeth caught your lower lip, sinking down to take the first two inches or so, letting your opening adjust to its size. 
It was taking everything in Eddie's willpower not to thrust up into you, or grab your hips and roll them down onto his aching cock. But he knew better than that, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in any way. So he stayed still, holding in a deep and shaky breath as you started to take him. Part of him wanted to look away from the gorgeous faces you were making, because if you were going to bat your eyelashes and tuck that perfect lip in between your teeth he was going to come a lot sooner than either of you would like. But he can't bring himself to do it, loving the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost like when you were angry. 
You were fully seated on his cock now, breathing slowly and leaning back to sit up straight on it, somehow pushing it even deeper into you. 
"That's it," Eddie's hands still gripped at your hips, making sure you were steady on him, "that's my girl, taking me so well." 
You experimentally shifted your weight front to back, rocking your hips shallowly against his. You felt Eddie move underneath you, reaching his hand from its place on your hip to your back. He adjusted his position, and pushed up against the headboard to sit upright, now holding your torso against his. He smoothed your hair across the back of your head. 
"It's okay if you need a minute," he took your chin in his hands, clenching his jaw as you continued to rock your hips into his, "don't want you to hurt yourself. 
"Just feel so fucking full," you whispered into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage, "need you to fuck me, fuck me deep and hard, please Eddie, need it."
He arches his hips up slightly to meet your hips as they come down, and your eyes practically spin into the back of your head. He takes it slow, his first few thrusts from under you are careful and gentile. You continue to mumble "please" and "more" into his lips, so he scoops you up from your back and flips you over, not removing his cock from deep within you as you settle down into the mattress. Your legs wrap around his hips and he pushes his dick all the way into you, reaching a new spot that knocks the wind out of you. 
"Fuck just like that," your words are hardly there, "so fucking good, Eddie, Eddie..."
"Beautiful," he fucks into you a little harder, "your pussy was fucking made for me." His hands were settled on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread nice and open for him to pound his cock into you. He lets one hand press into your lower stomach, pushing his cock down while inside you, causing you to let out a gasp. He lets his palm spread your on your lower abdomen, letting his thumb creep closer and closer to your clit, catching it every so often as your hips rolled back and forth with his thrusts. 
"You gonna be good and let me make you come again?" he asks, the cocky edge in his voice has you losing all coherence, "so pretty wrapped around my cock."
The movements of his thumb are much more deliberate now, rubbing your clit in tandem with the movement of his hips. He wasn't fucking you particularly fast, but he was making sure his cock was buried all the way inside you with every thrust, rolling his hips forward and punctuating each thrust with extra pressure. 
"Oh my god, I-" your head was thrown back into the flannel pillowcases, body starting to tense up again. You were still so wet and turned on from your last orgasm, but coming while his massive cock was in you was going to be entirely different, you could feel it. 
"That's it, come on my cock," he could feel the muscles in your thighs start to tighten, the walls of your pussy fluttering around him as he drew methodical figure eights on your clit. You felt so fucking good around him, so warm and wet and tight, swallowing his cock up with every thrust. That plus those damn sounds you were making. But Eddie had a goal, and couldn't be distracted by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body, his one and only focus was to push you over the edge, to take care of you and do it right. 
The choked sobs leaving your heaving chest were the first indicator that you were about come, that and your pussy gripping him like a fucking vice. You weren't able to form words as you fell apart for him, just letting broken moans escape you as your body shook and released all that tension. Part of you could hear a string of praises coming from him, but all you could focus on was the ripple of your orgasm tearing through your body. 
You start to come down for it, catching your breath, until you feel him pull out of you entirely and push you legs back as he had before, and dip his head down to lick down your quivering center. He lapped up your wetness and sent a few aftershocks buzzing into your core. His tongue slowed down and he let you settle down, before pushing his tongue entirely into you and letting out the most sensual groan right into your cunt. 
"Holy shit," you let out, looking down at him and realized that next to seeing his dick for the first time, Eddie lapping up your orgasm was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. 
He sat up and let his cock rest in between your puffy pussy lips, his pierced head sitting right on your sensitive clit. He lets the weight of it fall into his hand and gives your pussy a few taps with his cock, sending your hips jerking from the sensitivity. 
"Eddie," you start, eyes glassy and voice hoarse, "please keep fucking me, don't want you to stop."
"You want more?" a comment half cocky and half serious. 
"Mhmm, want you to fuck me hard," your hands came up to play with your tits, "want you to come in me, use me, give it to me hard how I know you like it."
"'S'that right," he quickly grabs your hips and flips you over, angling your ass up in the air for him, "you wanna take all my come like the good girl you are?"
"Please," your muffled voice comes up from the sheets, "I'm on the pill, it's okay, it's safe."
"Mmm fuck," he slips his cock back into your soaking wet hole, guiding your hips back and forth with his big hands, "thank you, so fucking perfect for me, you can tell me if I go to hard, yeah?" 
"Yeah Eddie," you try your best to bounce back on his cock, but know he's doing most of the work moving your ass to slap against his hips, "I want it hard."
With that he takes the initiative to snap his hips forward with every thrust, pulling your gorgeous ass back against him and twitching inside you every time it comes flush with his lower stomach. He can't help but bring a flat palm down to smack it, loving the big red handprint he leaves behind, and loving even more the muffled moan that leaves you when he does so. 
"Y'like that?" he already knows you do, but just wants to hear you say it.
"Yes, again, please," each word comes out as a short gasping breath. He smacks your ass again, watching it jiggle against his palm has him thinking he's died and gone to heaven, you his personal angel. 
Although he can feel the end in sight, he wants to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock again, so he snakes his hand under your arched hips and toys with your clit. You're beyond fucked out at this point, but can't help but prop yourself up on straightened arms to give him more room to rub against you. He leans down to press his chest against your back, one arm coming down by your side to support his weight as he fucks down into you. 
"One more time," he lets out into the skin of your shoulder, "can you come for me one more time, princess?"
“I-” you start, about to tell him you’re unsure, but then he starts rubbing fast strokes against your clit and you’re already seeing stars. 
He’s fucking into you fast and hard, just like you’d asked him to. The feeling of you clenching down on him has him biting your shoulder to hold back his grunts and moans. As soon as he feels your pussy start to gush around him, your arms collapsing and legs shaking under him, he lets go with a soft grunt and spills his come deep inside you. 
He lets his cock stay there for a moment, pulsing inside you, relishing in the feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him. He pulls out slowly and you let out a small yelp, letting your hips fully sink down to the mattress without his hands to heep you propped up. 
He runs a hand across your thigh, and you acknowledge your attention with a hum. 
“M’gonna go get something to clean you up,” his voice is soft and you nod into the pillows, making a half hearted attempt to roll your body over. He uses his discarded sweatpants to wipe off his forehead and chest, suddenly aware of how sweaty he is, you both are. 
He slips on his boxers and creeps down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a big glass of water and a clean hand towel run under the sink. He slips back into the room to find you paid out on the bed, all sweaty and fucked out, it’s the best you’ve ever looked to him. 
He lifts you up by the shoulders and helps you sit up while you take a few sips of water and let out a “thank you” in between sips. He runs the warm cloth in between your legs a few times to catch anything sticky, before tossing it into the pile with his dirty clothes. 
You were already mostly knocked out, all the energy completely drained from your body. Typically you’d awkwardly dance around the notion of spending the night or not, but your eyes felt too heavy to care, and your body was already molded into his sheets. He flicked off the bedside light and got settled into bed next to you, thinking you were already completely asleep. 
“Thank you Eddie,” your voice was sleepy and almost didn't cut through the air.
“No problem, good sex is dehydrating,” he responds, assuming you meant the thanks for the water and towel. 
“No thank you for taking care of me,” you roll into his arms, snuggling up against him, “I didn’t know sex could be like that.” 
“Like what?” he partially knew what you meant, given that the three times you’ve ever come during sex all happened in the past hour. 
“Like magic,” you’d have been embarrassed to say it in other circumstances. But the post sex bliss and intense sleep that was washing over you made you sort of hazy and elated. 
“Yeah I think you’re pretty magic too,” he wrapped you up  in his arms, feeling the same tiredness, “good night y/n.”
The next morning he felt a sort of sore stiffness in his body, wiping the crust from his eyes and suddenly remembering the events of the night prior. There was an empty warm spot in the bed next to him, indicating you must have slipped out recently. He shook out his messy bedhead and threw on some sweatpants. 
A short trip down the hall brought him into the kitchen, where you were making a pot of coffee. You heard him come in from the hallway, and you suddenly tensed up at the thought of facing him. How did he look so damn good mid yawn, rubbing his face and his hair a wild mess. 
You turn towards the coffee machine on the counter, frantically trying to think of what to say or how to act towards him. Before you could give it too much thought, you feel his presence directly behind you, his arms caging you in and his back pressed against you. 
“Are you pouring me a cup?” he asks, hunching down to rest his chin on your shoulder. 
“Yes,” you elongate the word, taking in his scent and feeling his hair tickle your neck, “this is how you take it right? No cream, no sugar.”
“Mhmmm,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a quick peck on the side of your neck before moving to grab the cup. 
“Wow okay early bird Eddie,” Robin’s voice cuts through the air of the kitchen and he immediately grabs his coffee and moves away from you. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice and the two of you cringe at the somewhat compromising position. 
“Okay I don’t think I want to know what the hell that was about,” she points between the two of you. Ahh Robin, master of the art of subtlety. 
Steve comes into the kitchen, immediately sensing the awkward air between everyone in the small space. 
“Oh god,” he looks from Robin’s pointing finger to the two of you with somewhat guilty expressions, “was THAT all that noise I heard last night? Jesus Christ you two.” He turns out of the kitchen dramatically, leaving Robin with a bewildered expression and the two of you cringing. 
“At least they’re fucking instead of fighting now!” she calls to him as he continues to walk down the hall away from you. 
Amongst Robin yelling and Steve leaving in a huff, Eddie manages to sneak his hand behind you and pinch your ass, making you jump a bit and the coffee in your cup to slosh around. He gives you a wink and starts to head out of the kitchen. 
“I’m gonna have my coffee by the lake, you joining me?”
Maybe this trip was going to be something special after all. 
All Eddie Fics Taglist: @eddielives1986
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loveinhawkins · 10 months
Text
Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.
It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.
He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.
Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.
He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.
One step forward, then another, and another.
There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.
His palms brush against the bathroom door.
“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.
He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.
With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.
“Okay, okay…”
Pulls.
Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.
And…
The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.
Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.
“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.
He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.
“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”
Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.
As he works, Eddie hums nervously.
“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?
Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.
But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.
“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”
Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”
“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”
Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”
“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”
“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”
“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”
“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”
“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”
Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”
“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.
Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”
“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”
“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”
“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”
“Check? What?”
Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.
“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”
“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.
He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.
After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.
There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.
Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.
“Eddie. You can go.”
“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”
“Suit yourself.”
Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.
“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”
“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”
Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.
“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”
Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”
“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”
“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”
But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.
“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”
“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”
“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”
“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”
Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”
Steve hums.
“In bold. Underlined.”
“Whatever you say.”
Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”
Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.
Eddie takes it.
When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.
“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so.”
Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.
There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.
“You too,” he tells Eddie.
“Huh?”
Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.
“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”
He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.
For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.
“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”
Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.
You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.
Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.
“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.
He drinks.
Steve prays that it holds.
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sicbaby · 6 months
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sleeping beauty
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stepdad!leon kennedy x f!reader
cw: 18+ smut, stepcest, somnophilia, non consensual (at first)
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it was a weekend you were looking forward to. a nice little winter vacation with your mom and some of her friends. it would be nice to get out of the house for a while anyway, especially since your seasonal depression kicked in.
however, your plans quickly changed when you fell ill. god damnit, stupid fucking weather. had to ruin your plans. now you were bed ridden, absolutely no energy so you refused to do anything. your loving mother didn’t bat an eye, wishing you well and heading off with her friends for the weekend. thanks, mom.
luckily, your stepdad was free. leon.
leon was a good dad, sweet and caring… more than your mom ever was. you liked him a lot. your mom put leon in charge of taking care of you for the weekend, and he was more than happy to oblige. he barely ever had time off work, and he was looking forward to spending time with you.
it was friday night and leon sat on the couch watching tv, feeling frustrated. the reason why? you.
yes, you. the poor little thing that had slept the day away. he had planned out the whole evening for the two of you. he was going to make soup, cuddle you and watch your favorite movies and kiss and love on you. like a good father should when his daughter gets sick. but you never even got out of bed. he felt lonely, frustrated, and needy. he missed his pretty little girl.
it was getting late. he shut down the house and put away the full pot of soup he had made for you. just seeing it sitting there made his frustration grow even stronger.
he turned off all the lights, locking the front door and heading upstairs. he’s mad at you.
he knows he shouldn’t feel that way, especially when you’re sick. but he can’t help it. he passes your door, not giving it a second look as he heads to his room.
he strips to his boxers, ready to get in bed as he fights an internal struggle within himself.
god, it’s not your fault, you poor thing. but he has needs too, doesn’t matter if you’re sick. with a frustrated sigh, he heads to down the hall to check on you.
he knocks on your door softly, and when there isn’t a response he opens it. the air is damp, filled with the peppermint scent of your diffuser on full blast. the room is dark, and he can hardly see until he comes closer. you’re sleeping. still.
his gaze wanders over your sleeping form. you were on your belly with your left leg hiked up. you were wearing the sheerest pink nightgown, and the silk practically melted into your body, leaving little to the imagination. it also didn’t help that your position caused the gown to ride up, the bottom of your cheeks exposed to him. nothing underneath that slutty little gown, of course. despite his irritation, he couldn't deny the allure of your vulnerability. a mischievous grin tugs at the corner of his lips as a wicked idea forms in his mind.
leon slowly approaches the side of the bed, his steps almost silent against the carpeted floor. he felt as if you owed him for the lonely, isolated day he had.
swiftly, he reaches out and gently brushes his hand against your cheek, feeling the warmth of your feverish skin beneath his fingertips. "you know, i was hoping we could have some quality time together," he murmured, his tone mocking. "but it seems like you're too busy being a useless little burden, sleeping the day away."
his frustration brewed beneath the surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. leon slowly reaches down, his fingers grazing over your thigh. the touch was light, teasing, not wanting to wake you up just yet.
"since you're so useless, maybe i should find another way to entertain myself," he whispered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "hmmm,” he hums, “maybe i'll have to wake you up properly, little sleeping beauty."
leon's hand continued caressing your thigh, inching higher and higher. your mouth was wide open, snoring softly. he chuckled at that. even sick and asleep, you were such a prize. and he was going to claim you.
trailing his hand along the back of your left thigh, he nudges it to the side slightly, guiding your legs to open more for him. he trails up and up, until his index finger flicks over the soft flesh of your pussy. he smirks when you don’t move, and proceeds to glide his finger up and down your folds until it settles on your clit. he applies just enough pressure to elicit a small noise from your parted lips. it’s barely noticeable, though, and he keeps playing and teasing with your pussy until that warm wetness is coating his finger.
the act of making you wet even while you slept was an intoxicating feeling for leon. the sudden urge to possess you and claim you as his own rushes over him.
he crawls over you, settling into bed next to you. he places a light hand on your back, feeling the silk of your nightgown. his touch trailed lower and his fingers knead the soft flesh of your ass, reveling in its plumpness. he couldn't help but let out a low, husky groan as his desire for you intensified.
leon's desire grew even stronger as he shifted closer to you. being careful not to disturb you, he delicately repositioned you onto your side, hand still firmly gripping your ass. once he’s satisfied with your position, he presses his hand to the front of your hips, pressing your ass against him. his cock hardens at the feeling of your warm and soft ass against him. he couldn't help but grind his hips against yours, feeling his cock grow with every slow rut. a low growl of satisfaction escaped his lips as he continued, moving his head up to press his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.
he looks back down to your ass, slowly and carefully lifting your nightgown up your back, exposing your bare skin to the fabric of his boxers as he continues to slowly hump you. in a low, whispered voice, he couldn't resist indulging in dirty talk again, knowing you wouldn't hear him. you were so deep in your slumber.
"hi, princess.” he taunts, right in your ear this time. “you gonna let daddy fuck your tight little pussy? hm? yeah, you are. daddy’s gonna do whatever he wants with you tonight, baby," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. “daddy deserves that, right?” he asks, reaching up to grab your chin, forcing you to nod your head in your sleep. he chuckles deeply at this. “yeah, that’s right. good girl, baby.”
as he continues grinding against you, his hand lowers from your chin to your breasts, lightly grazing his fingers over your nipples, smirking to himself when he feels them harden almost immediately. you don’t move, don’t make any noise, and he wonders how much farther he can go. he trails his left hand down your tummy to your pussy, his hand once again finding your clit. at this point, you’re soaked. “dirty fucking girl..” he chuckles deeply.
he removes his hand, wiping your slick off on his boxers as he pulls them down his legs. he tosses them off the bed, moving back to you to lift up your leg. he scoots up, placing his now hard cock up against your wet cunt. he brings your leg back down and groans at the feeling of your lips and thighs surrounding his cock. he begins humping you again, your pussy continuously wetting his dick and making the most obscene noises in the quiet room.
it wasn’t until now you stir slightly, in a weird dream like state. you feel heat on your neck, a warmth against your body and wetness pooling between your legs. and yet, your mind can’t comprehend it, choosing to stay asleep.
leon continues humping his cock against your pussy, grunting softly in your ear. soon, he’s losing all control. he quickly lifts your leg, taking his dick into his hand as he slaps your cunt a few times with it, teasing himself yet again. he rubs it back and forth, pushing his head against your entrance, gauging your reaction. you still don’t move, and he scoffs a little. he finally presses the tip of his cock into your waiting hole, slowly yet surely filling you up. he barely gets all the way inside when you finally wake up, in a daze.
“hmm- huh, hnnng? leon?” you whine, immediately trying to get up when you feel a heavy, almost painful weight inside of you. you’re sick, weak and confused, your whines almost sound like you’re about to cry. and you just might, until leon pushes you gently back onto your side. “shhh, shhh, princess. it’s okay, daddy’s here. just needed to fill you up, make you feel better. daddy just wanted to feel you. that’s okay, right baby?” he shushes you, keeping his cock buried deep inside you.
you lay back against the pillows, your face contorted in confusion and worry. you nod. “o-oh, y-yeah… okay, daddy…” you immediately comply. you trust your dad. whatever he’s doing.
your voice is weak, eyes burning and you’re just so fucking tired. your state turns leon on even more. you don’t even comprehend what’s going on until you blink a few more times.
and then you realize it. your stepdads cock is inside of you.
“d-dad?” you say weakly, unable to move. your eyes shift around the room, scared to move, scared to turn around to face him.
“yeah?” he groans. “so naughty. leaving your daddy all alone all day.” he mumbles. “you’re gonna make it up to me, kay princess?” his voice is condescending, a bit mean, and it makes your pussy clench around him. yet your face tells a different story. you’re on the verge of tears. why is this happening? he laughs breathily into the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. you want this just as much as him. even if you don’t realize it yet.
your mouth is slightly open, unable to breathe through your nose due to your sickness. you feel dizzy, your body hot and sweaty and leon begins to thrust, pounding into you relentlessly from behind. your body is completely limp in his hold, his left hand digging into your thigh harshly as he keeps your leg up in the air.
you cry out, your body feeling so fragile and sore. he’s just making it worse. this isn’t right. but why are you so wet? your panic increases by the second.
“d-dad! stop! this is so bad,” you sob. “t-this is sooo wrong!”
his thrusts are forceful, taking exactly what he wants from you with no mercy. he can sense your energy waning, your body growing weaker as you try to fight back. he drops your leg, reaching around to rub circles into your swollen clit.
“oh, it feels wrong, does it?” he growls. “but i know you want this, baby girl. fight all you want. pussy’s fuckin’ crying for me.” he feels your body trembling, little whines and cries falling from your pretty mouth.
you feel so overwhelmed, thrashing in his hold, tears falling from your eyes. you don’t even know what you want, a pure mess, brain mushy and can’t think straight. your movements are futile against him. “s-stop! stop! hurts, daddy! please…” he’s huge, practically splitting you in two on his dick.
“no, no, baby. you be good for daddy. you don’t wanna make daddy angry, hmm? bad girls don’t get to cum, you know.” his voice is surprisingly soft, yet so fucking condescending it makes a sob erupt from you. he pulls all the way back out, before slamming his entire length back into your pussy.
“d-daddy,” you cry. “please!” you’re shaking so much, poor baby. your pussy keeps clenching, sucking in his cock before trying to spit him out.
“awww.” he coos. “does daddy’s cock feel too big for your tiny little pussy, baby girl?” he slows his thrusts, giving you some time to adjust. you can feel your heartbeat racing in every part of your body, especially in your cunt. you’re thankful he slows down. you can really feel him this way, feel how every ridge drags deliciously against your walls. it feels too good now. you want to cum. you need to cum.
however, leon doesn’t like taking it slow. “don’t worry, honey. i know you can take it.” he resumes a faster pace, your entire body bouncing from the force. your sobs of pain and discomfort quickly turn into whiny moans of pleasure, no matter how much you try to fight it.
he grabs your cheeks roughly, squeezing them, making your lips pout as he turns your head towards him slightly. he kisses at your tears, tasting the saltiness on your face.
“you’re doing so well, my precious little toy. you’re such a good girl for taking all of daddy’s cock.” he praises, causing you to subconsciously relax a little, letting him sink deeper into your cunt.
“thaaaats it, princess,” he continues, bottoming out and stilling for a moment again. he kisses your neck hungrily, breathing in your scent once again. “you ready to cum for daddy, my little bunny?” he teases, his voice dripping with control. you whine in response, that dumb little brain of yours not able to form words. “beg for it, baby. show me just how badly you need it.” he ruts up harshly into you one time, urging you to speak. it causes you to gasp out a broken moan.
“p-please… please.. need ‘t cum…” it’s a weak response, but you truly aren’t able to conjure up anything better. your hips have a mind of its own, grinding back on leon’s cock desperately searching for release.
leon would want to make you beg for it until you were screaming, but he had to have some type of consideration for his sick baby, right?
he doesn’t respond to your begging, only continuing to pound into you. it feels so good you feel like you’re about to pass out, head empty and dizzy.
he reaches around once more, slapping your bouncing tits a few times, making you gasp. you throw your hands up, trying to stop him but he easily swats your hands away and continues. his fingertips drop down harshly right on your hard, sensitive nipples. “nuh uh, baby. what did i say, huh?” he threatens in a high pitched, taunting baby-like voice.
“‘m sorr- sorry, daddy!” you cry out, hiccuping, your voice hoarse.
“mm, it’s okay, my sweet girl. ‘s brave, endured so much for daddy. go ahead and cum, baby. cum all over daddy’s cock.” he says through gritted teeth. he stops his assault on your tits, bringing his hand down to rub at your puffy clit.
your hand wraps around his wrist, pushing it down harder against the swollen nub. he smirks at this. your lip is drawn between your teeth, body going stiff as you near your release.
“cmon, baby. be a good girl for me. wanna feel that tight pussy cum around my cock. you want it, don’t you?” he encourages, his balls drawing up, so so so close to cumming inside of you.
“mhm, mhm, mhm!” you moan, nodding your head once you feel your orgasm approaching. your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling back into your head, body convulsing as you cum hard. your head is thrown back, resting on leon’s shoulder. he places kisses on your temple, holding you tight through your release.
he starts rutting into you like a rabbit as he cums, shooting his load deep into your womb, offering a warm satisfaction in your lower belly. his thrusts turn into slow, sharp ruts, making sure your cunt takes everything he has to give.
“fuck, baby.” he grunts, his body convulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure. he stays inside of you for a moment. both of you are breathing hard and you sigh tiredly. he moves the hair from out of your face, kissing you sweetly on the cheek.
your cheeks are red and puffy, stained with tears. you feel so good, you can’t even be upset at what just happened. in fact, you want it to happen again.
exhaustion washes over you. your thoughts, your morality… it can wait for the morning.
“go back to sleep, sweet girl. daddy will take care of you. love you so much, princess.” he kisses your forehead, nosing your hairline, inhaling your sweet scent. he just can’t get enough. such a perfect little girl, and now he’s claimed you. his perfect little girl, all for him.
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marvelouslizzie · 10 months
Text
You're Stuck with Me - Co-written with @notafunkiller
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Summary: When you find out your boyfriend's cheating on you with his best friend, you immediately tell Bucky Barnes about the affair and propose revenge sex.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Word Count: 6.9K
Warnings: 18+ smut, cheating, revenge fuck, language, oral sex (female receiving), protected and unprotected sex, praise and degradation mix, pet names, teasing, no mention of y/n
A/n: We are getting a little out of our comfort zone with this story. I hope you will enjoy it.
Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's an amazing writer. You should definitely check her Bucky Barnes stories.
All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.
Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.
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"Are you sure?" Bucky asks, finishing your bottle of sparkling water. "I don't want you to cry and regret it after."
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” You sound so confident that even you are surprised. “It’s just sex.”
"Just sex." He repeats with his eyebrows raised. "You never seemed to me like the type of girl who would go for just sex, doll."
“Maybe you should’ve paid a little more attention. You would’ve realized you might have the wrong kind of impression.”
"Oh, really?" He leans in amused. "Big words."
“They're not. You just aren’t used to talking to me.”
"You're telling me you're not a commitment girl?" He presses the matter, not believing you even a little. You two might not be friends, but he figured out what type of person you are.
“I’m just saying I won’t regret having sex with you. The rest is your assumption.”
His gaze immediately drops to your chest. "You trust my skills that much?"
You roll your eyes. “Do you have to be this arrogant all the time?”
"Do you have to be a brat all the time?" He doesn't wait for your response, though, as he continues. "Oh wait, you can't help it. Totally in your nature."
“So women who don't stroke your ego are brats? Maybe I just don’t care that much about you. Did you consider that?” There’s a hint of anger in your voice but nothing more. He always manages to challenge you and push your buttons. “Maybe you aren’t the only one who didn’t like those double dates. Get off your high horse.” You add without missing a beat. You realized how bored and uninterested he was then. No matter what topic you were bringing up, he wasn’t open. That’s one of the reasons why you believe he thinks he’s better than anyone.
"Fuck." He shakes his head. "You and that mouth of yours. Do you see me going around and calling women brats?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “Those dates were absolutely horrible. Your little boy toy is the biggest loser I've ever met."
“You seem like a guy who would do that. You are not? Ops, wrong assumption I guess.” You make a fake I am sorry face. “He’s not my boy toy but I agree, he’s a big loser.”
He smiles when you finish your sentence, so satisfied. "Why do you enjoy pushing me so much? Does it turn you on?"
“How am I pushing you? Do you think this is pushing?” You don’t budge.
"What is it then?"
“I know you don’t like me and I am just giving you back that same energy.” You tell him the truth. That’s what you always do: you give the same energy people give you. If they are kind, you are kinder. If they are assholes, you are a bigger asshole.
Bucky snorts, running a hand through his hair. "Where was this attitude hidden around him?"
You breathe out loudly, not hiding how bored you are. “Are we gonna talk all night or are we gonna do this?”
He smiles in a way you never saw him smile before he leans in even more, invading your space. "It's been that long, huh?"
You make a face. “You can’t tell me sex with her was great. I saw their little sex tapes.” You can’t deny what he’s just said, but you can deflect.
He gives you the most surprised face. "What?"
“You heard me. If it had been a while for me, then it must have been even longer for you.”
"Indeed." His voice doesn't betray any emotion.
“Then stop belittling me. We both have been having bad sex and we both got cheated on. You aren’t better than me.”
"When did I say that, woman?"
“You always act like you are better than everyone.”
"That's just your assumption." He paraphrases you with the biggest smile on his face
“Prove me wrong then.”
And he does, looking at you for a couple of seconds. When you don't move, he finally grabs you by your chin and kisses you. He's not hesitant or testing, he's literally trying to claim your mouth as he wants to deepen the kiss by licking your bottom lip. When you finally give him access, his hand goes to the back of your neck, the contrast between his soft touch and his passionate way of kissing making you moan.
"Your mouth…"
“What about it?” You ask while still looking at his lips.
He kisses you again, like he's starved, his hand pulling your hair a little more. He tastes like some fresh toothpaste and a little chocolate.
"So sweet, yet so bratty."
“Do you have a thing for brats for something?” You pull him by his collar and kiss him again. He might be an asshole, but he knows how to kiss.
"Maybe just for a special brat."
“What does that mean?” You stop and look into his eyes.
He lets go of your hair and lowers his hands to your waist. "Tell me to stop and I will. Tap me anywhere if you can't talk and I'll stop. Get it?"
“Yeah. Same goes for you. Any lines you don’t wanna cross?”
"Just don't call me by someone else's name." He sighs.
“Fine by me. Don’t use any pet names you used for your ex.”
"I wouldn’t dream of it. What else?" He smirks.
“No degrading.”
"So no my little whore?”
“That doesn’t sound like degrading to me but another rule: Don’t say things you don’t mean. I don’t like that heat-of-the-moment bullshit.”
He seems to like your rules. "God, how did you date that asshole for 5 months?"
“I was just giving that so-called nice guy a chance and it got me here. How did you date that bitch for 8 months?”
"Woah. Bitch? Never heard you referring to a woman like this."
“I never liked her.” You shrug. And she cheated on him. So why not?
"Why?"
“I don’t know. I always thought she was full of herself. Always looking down at people.”
"Like me." He stares at you. "I understand."
“Not like that. She always talks badly about people. Most of the time, behind their backs. She always looks for a way to steal the spotlight. I actually wondered what you saw in her.”
"I won't talk about a woman badly, especially my ex, but I guess we just want to give people a chance."
“That woman cheated on you. With someone she called her best friend after you two decided to move in together. Maybe longer. But sure, make me feel bad about calling her a bitch.”
Bucky seems to think about it for a few seconds. You appreciate his non-talking shit about my ex policy, but in this case? Not deserved. They cheated on you for months. They could have chosen to break up, but they didn't want that. They pretended they are just friends, proposed double dates, lied and hid, and made promises. Your relationships weren't working perfectly well, your sex lives seem very shitty and probably there were signs about this affair, but you cannot blame yourself or Bucky for not seeing them. You deserved the truth. You just can't believe you two are actually in this situation. Giving the wrong people a chance… never again for sure.
"You're right. This is such a fucking shitty thing. I mean, at least fucking break up with me. God, we kissed them, fucked them after they were with each other." He makes a disgusted face.
“So we practically fucked each other already, you know?” You make a joke, trying to change the mood a little. It really is fucked up.
"They didn't see us having sex though." He shakes his head. "They managed to make the lamest sex tapes in history."
“Yeah, I am still traumatized by her fake moans.”
"Fake?" He snorts.
“Yeah, I know how sex is with him. No way those moans are real.”
"Maybe they are. Maybe she enjoys it. She likes him so much they decided this fucking shitty sex is worth it." He leans in and kisses you again suddenly and you don't understand if he's angry because he regrets being with her and getting cheated on or he regrets being betrayed because he wants her so much. You know they fought a lot from your soon-to-be ex, but 8 months are something after all.
You kiss him back nonetheless, enjoying the way his lips and tongue feel. You don't remember the last time you've been kissed this good. If you've ever been with someone like this… he's basically eating you with his mouth.
“It won’t take long for her to regret it. Talking from experience,” you say while kissing him back. You wanna know if he wants her back or not. Not that it matters. You are just curious. Maybe he wants to make her jealous.
"What she wants doesn't matter anymore, doll." He strokes your hair when he stops kissing you so you can take a deep breath. "You called me arrogant, right?"
“Yeah?” You answer hesitantly.
"Do arrogant people ever let themselves be humiliated?" He pauses. "I don't want something like this. Someone like this. I have absolutely no desire to keep a person who does this. I am a patient person, I try to work things out, but this? Never in a fucking million years. Nothing about this relationship was right, I suppose. What about you?"
“I don’t care about him anymore.” Your response comes immediately. You were completely done with him the moment you found out about their affair. There’s no turning back. It was like a switch. That’s why you are here with Bucky. “I tried so hard to make it work, thinking relationships are hard and we gotta put some effort to make it work. All bullshit. I’m done with him. I’m done with lowering my standards. Done with 5-minute sex, and ‘you turn me on so much, I can’t help it’ excuses. There’s no going back for me.”
You see his little smirk and can't help but touch his face. He is really one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.
"I never liked him, and you know it. That small dick energy is unbearable. I think he'd have a heart attack if he even heard us. Can you imagine?"
“I… actually can.” You can envision how that would hurt him and his insufferable ego. “God, she would hate me so much.” You smile.
"Oh, she would. She's always been jealous of you anyway."
“And he hates that you don’t even have to be nice to make people like you. Now he would have an extra reason.”
"Fuck, doll." You feel his thumb on your neck and you shiver. "I'm gonna sound crazy, but wouldn't make you feel satisfied if indeed they heard us?"
You blink, trying to understand his offer. That actually would actually give you pleasure… knowing that he suffers just like you did. You also notice the pet name he uses. You never heard him use it with his (ex) girlfriend, so he’s keeping his promise. “I’d… really like that.”
"Yeah?" He leaves a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "A voice message?"
“Sounds better than actually calling.” You turn your face a little and kiss him on the lips.
"Look at you, you ignored me for months." He bites your bottom lip lightly.
“It wasn’t like you were friendly.”
Does he even hear you?
He takes you in his arms. "Bedroom?"
“Bedroom.” You wrap your legs around his torso in agreement as he leads the way.
"Left?"
“Yeah, hurry up.”
He opens the door with his elbow, then doesn't bother to close it as he lets you down. His hands find your blouse and you hear the ripping sound before you can raise your arms.
You’re surprised but not bothered. Truth be told, you find that very hot. But you still unclip your bra.
“Fucking hell.” He manages to whisper before he leans in and grabs your breasts, his tongue licking all the way down from your neck to your nipple.
You tug on his T-shirt and try to take it off while he’s busy exploring your body.
"You hid these from me."
“Not specifically from you. Move your hands up so I can take this off.”
"From who then?" He frowns and lets go for a second so you can take it off.
“From everyone, of course.”
"God, I wanna come all over them. So pretty.”
“Maybe you should make a mental list. Come on her tits. Come inside her mouth. Come inside her pussy.”
His eyes glow, and you giggle. "Who said I didn't?"
“You did?” You sound impressed. “Wanna share?”
"Wanna share my come? Sure." His fingers find your zipper and you gasp when he takes your pants off from one try.
“Oh, you are filthier than I thought.” You say to cover your surprise.
"You thought about how filthy I am?"
“You think I didn’t consider how this would be before offering a revenge fuck?”
"When?" He takes ahold of your underwear, and you're unsure if he wants to rip it off or simply take it off.
“I just told you.”
"I thought…" He blushes, realizing he misunderstood. It's an asshole move to assume that while you were with that prick, the thought of him like this has even passed your mind. "Forget it."
“No, no, tell me.” You pull him closer by his belt. “Let’s get rid of these.”
"Did you ever think about me before today?" He helps you take off his pants while finally getting rid of your panties.
“What if I did? Does it make me a terrible person?”
"Terrible." He nods, letting the pieces of your underwear drop on the floor along with his boxers and pants before he steps out of them. "So terrible." He kisses you, his hands on your hips, bringing you closer to his cock. You didn't even have proper time to look at him. "The worst."
“I knew it.” You play along. “What about you?”
"I thought about this mouth a lot."
“Just my mouth?” You nudge him by moving your hips up.
"Thought about fucking you in the bathroom."
“When?” Did he really want to fuck you before? He never looked at you twice or at least that’s what you thought.
"A few weeks ago… we… the office. You were with your little group. They were smoking and you wore that fucking lipstick that just blew my mind away. I didn't intend to. You didn't even notice me." He kisses you again but doesn't deepen it.
Everything he said takes you by surprise. You didn’t think that he ever paid attention to you, let alone notice your lipstick and get turned on by it.
“I noticed you, but I thought you were bored. You had a grumpy look on your face most of the time. I liked your blue shirt, though. It makes your eyes pop.”
He moans. Is it so easy to make him moan? you wonder.
"I'm always grumpy and arrogant, of course."
“You don’t seem that grumpy and arrogant right now.” You gently bite his neck and then soothe the spot with your tongue.
"Fucking hell, woman." You feel him grabbing your ass. "Tell me you have a condom."
“In that drawer.” You point to it casually. “But just so you know, I’m on the pills.”
He nods, contemplating for a little while before helping you get on bed and taking a condom from your nightstand.
You don’t question why he chooses to reach for it, yet you can’t help but wonder how it would be like to feel him without any barrier. Your mouth waters at the sight of his naked body.
Maybe, maybe you should let him fuck your mouth, too. Why not?
He quickly puts the condom on and before he can climb on bed, he looks at you. "What you said earlier about the voice message, do you still stand by it?"
You realize you actually forgot about them or why you are doing this for a second. “Yeah. I want them to suffer.”
"Good." He takes his pants from the floor and finds his phone quickly. You didn't even realize he had it when you undressed him.
“So what are we doing exactly? Recording a small part and sending it?”
"Ihm." He nods. "Want that asshole to hear what your real moans sound like." He finally sits on the bed and you spread your legs further apart.
“Only my moans?” You ask while he positions himself.
"No video," he says immediately, and you giggle. That wasn’t your question, but it’s okay. You wonder if he’s being possessive with you already or it's something else.
“I meant what about your moans.”
He smiles. "Yeah, of course, but I'm not a loud person." He drops the phone close to your shoulder. "You, on the other hand… I bet you're a fucking screamer."
“I guess we'll find out. Is it recording already?”
"No, uhm, can you… The code is 0478."
“Let’s start and then we can record when it gets really loud.” You try to sound normal, but you are surprised he's just told you his passcode.
"You sure? We can trim it. I don't want to interrupt you."
"Don't worry. I'm good at multitasking." You give him a smile. "But if you wanna record the whole thing, so you can get off to it later, just say that." You can’t help but tease him a little.
"No, no, it's alright. I just want you to feel good, okay?" He smiles, his hands making their way to your thighs.
"Oh, I will. Don't worry about that." You pull him closer by wrapping your legs around his body. As he pushes inside, you start to forget what you were talking about before.
"Oh, fuck me." He groans when he sees the shape of your mouth. Such a perfect O. You feel so good and he's not even halfway inside you. "You're so wet."
"I can do that." You cheekily respond. "But we would need to change the position." You ignore his second comment.
He kisses you as if he needs to taste you again to be able to breathe, his tongue quickly finding yours once you open your mouth. Your hand gets into his hair at the same time he properly gets inside you.
You moan at the fullness. You haven't felt this stretched for so long, but it doesn't hurt. It just makes you crave more.
"Such a brat when you only needed a good cock." You know he's intentionally teasing you, so you try to find a good response.
"We'll see how good it is."
"Brat." He repeats again and moves his hands to your breast. His thrusts are not constant as he tries to test what you like.
"Put your mouth on them already." You know he wants to. He has been looking at them since he stepped inside your apartment. And you want him to do it, too. The thought itself makes you moan.
"Are you ordering me?"
"Depends. Yes, if you like that. No, if you don't."
He takes a handful of your breast in his mouth in response, not only your nipple, his thrusts getting slower, but a little deeper at the same time. The sound of his tongue licking on your skin makes you close your eyes.
The way he sucks your nipple makes you think he likes taking orders. What a great turn of events, you think.
He switches to the other one quickly, giving it the same treatment, while keeping the pace.
"Do you like it?"
“Yeah, yeah.” You quickly respond. “I love it.”
"Faster?"
“Yep, faster.” You gently push his head onto your breast again, loving the double stimulation.
He moans excitedly as he resumes licking and playing with your breasts, carefully trying to leave a hickey around your nipple. "These are mine now."
He doesn’t mean that, does he? Must be the heat of the moment, but you agreed on not doing that. So you decide to remind him. “Don’t say things you don’t actually mean, remember?”
"I didn't forget, brat. Did you?"
He bites on your nipple, gently, but you still feel it.
“So you actually mean that?” You really want to know, so you ignore the fact that he called you a brat again.
"Mean what?" He leaves a kiss on your nipple to soothe any possible pain. "That these are mine?"
“Yeah.” You sound impatient. Why is he acting clueless now?
"They are, they belong to me. So does your bratty mouth." He kisses you shortly.
You can’t deny how his words turn you on even more.
"I imagined fucking you in a bathroom that day at the office." He groans. "So terrible of me, right? Imagining you with come dripping out of you, down to your thighs as you go back to work. Months of petty silence solved."
“If I'd known my silence bothered you that much, I would have been even more silent until it drove you crazy enough to do something about it.” You move your hips up to match his rhythm. “I just thought you just preferred not speaking to me because you didn’t like me.”
"I would have screwed everything up and fucked you, you understand?" He looks you in the eye, making it clear he is honest. "I would have become a horrible person, but not even that thought would have made me reconsider."
“Yet you didn’t do anything, did you? You never acted on it. You were just a grumpy man with terrible thoughts.” You just want him to know he’s not a horrible person, yet you can’t help but tease him a little at the same time.
"And you just needed the cock of that grumpy man with terrible thoughts, huh?" His thrusts are so much faster now. You wonder: how the fuck does he expect you to answer?
All you can do is whine and moan because somehow he manages to hit all the right places.
"My little cock whore." He groans. "Mine, okay? Just like I am yours."
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You can’t help but react. You find it so hot you can barely stay still. The way he talks during sex… They would really die if they heard you two. That makes you remember… You were supposed to hit the record button.
"Just Bucky. Or James."
“Where the fuck is your phone, Bucky?” You ask while trying to find it without actually looking.
He's confused for a split second, but then he remembers what you agreed on. "To your right."
You finally find the phone and unlock it quickly before dropping it without any care as soon as it starts to record.
"Oh, doll, you're too wet for me. So good." The sound of your skin slapping and the whimpers are so loud. You can’t contain yourself even if you try.
“Faster, please,” you say without thinking. It feels like you are already close. You don’t care if you have to beg for it.
"So greedy." He cries out when he feels your hands on his ass, pulling him deeper inside you.
“Fuckk. That feels good!” You moan loudly and arch your back.
"Holy shit."
He suddenly stops, making you open your eyes and giving him an accusatory look, but then you notice the phone in his hands. Oh, you forgot about it for a second and you have no idea why.
"Are you sending it?"
"Ihm." He doesn't just lock his phone after he is done. He freaking turns it off, surprising you. “I don’t want any interruptions. Want to fuck you in peace.”
You just pull him into another kiss, more passionate this time. You feel his right hand on your tummy, tickling you a little, before stopping down, above your clit.
“You close?” You ask him to make sure because you surely are.
"I'm trying not to come," he says honestly.
“Oh, you can. I’m close, too. I just need it a little faster.” His hand on your clit already makes you realize it won’t take much for you to fall apart.
He pulls back, taking his cock almost completely out, and the emptiness makes you whine. Then he thrusts with full force, making you moan so loudly that you can’t recognize your own voice.
"Fuck, look at you. And those sounds…" He brings his thumb to your lips. "Come on, be a good girl and show me how your pretty little mouth would take my cock. The one that's inside your pussy right now, ready to come for you."
“Such a filthy mouth.” You say while moaning. “Come with me so I can take that cock inside my mouth and show you what it can do.”
"God, come, baby. Please come." He is begging you at this point. His voice is so desperate and soft.
His neediness, the way he says those words finally pushes you off the edge.
“Oh god.” You try to breathe as the orgasm takes over your body, making you shake. Your mouth opens, letting out the most unfiltered moan you've ever heard from yourself. It is pure pleasure with no thoughts, no worries. Your heart and your head are on fire, begging for more. You want this feeling to last as long as possible.
He comes shortly after you, but you don't realize it until you hear his loud groan vibrating against your chest. His hips and ass cheeks are trembling under your touch as he seems lost in his world for a few seconds. You run your fingers through his hair, waiting for him to come down from his high.
“Oh god, baby." You feel his breath on your wet skin and you sigh. "Can I live here forever?"
“That good?” You can’t help but ask. He can feel your smile without looking at you.
He looks up. "Ihm. What about you?"
“Wanna get your ego stroked?” You ask genuinely. “Promise that you’re not gonna use it against me.”
He kisses your throat. "I don't make such promises, woman."
“Then you won’t get to hear it.” You expose your throat more while talking.
"What if I eat the truth out of you?"
“Eat the truth out of me?”
"Ihm. You know… when you're under sex spell, you become truthful."
“You are welcome to try.” There’s no way you are gonna turn down another orgasm like this one.
"Perfect." He leaves another kiss on the valley between your breasts and sighs. "Have to take this off first," he says, taking his cock out with a small hiss before standing up near the bed, watching you. "Where can I throw this away?"
“There’s a trashcan in the bathroom.” You point at it while getting more comfortable on the bed.
"Be right back."
You feel something cold on your back and realize it’s his phone. You put it on the nightstand, thinking about how he turned his phone off in the middle of the sex. You make a mental note to ask him to send you that voice message later, so you can remember how good the sex felt.
He comes back with your small semi-wet towel and watches you carefully. "Look, I meant what I said about eating the truth out of you, but only if you are okay with it. I won't ask again. I could always just leave, you know? No big deal." But you can see in his face it would be a big deal. Maybe he likes your company. The sex is amazing.
“Do you wanna leave, Bucky?” You already know his answer.
"No, I don't."
“Then come here and do whatever you wanna do.”
He doesn't need to be told twice. You watch him drop to his knees and, at the same time, drag you closer to the edge of the bed as quickly as he can. You let out a surprised gasp, but it turns into a whole moan when he lifts your legs on his shoulders and starts licking you from your entrance to your clit.
“Fuck, you weren’t joking.”
He acknowledges your words by playing with his tongue around your clit. You move your hips slowly, up and down, just to create a little more friction. Your greed grows while you watch him eagerly lick every bit of your pussy.
You don't expect to feel his fingers at your entrance all of the sudden as you're focused on his tongue. And you especially don't expect him to curl two of his fingers and get them inside you at once. No warnings.
“Oh fuck, yes!” You find yourself grabbing his hair, just needing something to hold on to.
And he moans, buckling his hips in the air at the slight pain. The pace of his fingers matches his tongue, but it's not enough.
“Add the third finger.” You sound desperately close.
He is surprised, you can sense it, but he quickly does what you say, his tongue eagerly toying with your clit faster than before.
“I’m so close!” You warn.
He stops licking for a little and you try to move your hips to meet his mouth. What the fuck is he doing? No time for edging.
"What were you gonna say, doll? What did you think it would stroke my ego?"
“What?” You raise on your elbows, looking like a mess. “Really?”
"If you want my tongue, you give me an answer."
“You are unbelievable!” You sound so betrayed.
"I warned you not to cry, doll."
You really want to keep that thought to yourself, but the ache between your legs doesn’t care about your pride. “I can’t believe you are doing this right now.”
He gives you a small smile, and you see him leaning in again. You think you won, getting more comfortable, ready to come soon, but he only licks you twice, teasingly, and lets your clit go.
"Do what?"
You whine loudly. The feeling of his tongue lingers on your clit. “You wanna play dirty?” Maybe you can’t win this fight, but it doesn’t mean you can’t win others. “Fine.” You sit up a little, looking into his eyes. “It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Happy now?”
"Delighted. Now was it so hard? You get a reward for being my good and honest girl."
“Yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes.
"Fucking brat," you hear him whisper right before his tongue finds your clit again, finally licking it in circles properly. He starts to move his fingers, too, and even though they are obviously not even close to the thickness of his cock, they feel incredible.
But you are too annoyed now, at the same time. A part of you just wants to hold back and not give him the pleasure of hearing you come. So he tries harder. You hear him whimpering as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it. And you swallow a moan while your legs are trembling.
"Come on, baby." His fingers move faster, too. "Let it go."
Your whole body starts to shake uncontrollably, but you keep your moans to yourself, pressing your lips together tightly just out of spite. You can see he hates it, but he doesn't stop until you finish coming. And it feels amazing, but you are sure it would have been even better if you had let yourself enjoy it freely.
He sighs into your clit and leaves a kiss there before he stands up. "You're mad."
“No shit, Sherlock.”
"Ah, doll. Nothing can tame that mouth."
“More like actions and consequences. I wasn’t ready to share that, but you forced me to say it for an orgasm, so that’s what you get. An orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.”
"Forced?" His face shows concern as he sits next to you. "That wasn’t my intention. The last thing I want is to make you feel trapped.” He seems like he’s confused. He looks around and meets your gaze again. “Do you want me to leave?"
“If you wanna leave, just leave, but if that wasn’t really your intention, you can start with apologizing.”
"I am sorry," he immediately says, taking your hands into his. "I was just trying to… be silly I guess."
“You wanted your ego stroked, I get it. We both need it after what happened, but… I don’t know. I just felt exposed.”
"I'm sorry." He kisses your cheek. "I might be a grumpy arrogant son of a bitch, but forcing…"
You start to tear up, hearing him say sorry this quickly. Fucking relationship trauma.
"Oh god, baby, I am sorry, I didn't…" he tries to wipe your tears with his thumbs. "I'm a jackass, but I swear I wasn't trying to force you. I thought it was just a game. My bad."
“No, no. This is on me. Sorry.” You try to take a deep breath. “He just never said sorry no matter how hurt I was. He always had an excuse. This is just… trauma I guess.”
"What a fucking douchebag. I can fuck him up really good, you know?" He suggests. "Just say the words."
“He’s probably already fucked up by the fact that we are fucking.” That thought cheers you up a little.
"His face deserves it, too." Bucky puffs and kisses your wet cheeks. "To be honest, this whole should I leave question comes from my relationship trauma, too. So you’re not alone. She either wanted me to leave or she left every fucking time we disagreed on something. She once threw my shoes out of the window just so I'd go. I don't know why we kept trying…"
“Oh.” You finally understand why he keeps offering to leave. It isn't about you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I thought you were just trying to get out when things get hard.”
"Don't be sorry. I prefer to talk on the spot, to be honest. Letting everything out is healthier. Don't "
“Or take a break whenever it’s needed. Doesn’t mean you have to leave though.”
"Yeah! Exactly."
You laugh a little. You never realized how similar you two are. Today is changing your perspective completely. “Your apology is accepted by the way, but under one condition.”
"What is that?'
“Tell me something about yourself that you don’t want me to know.”
He thinks for a second. "My breath smells like death in the morning. I can make your plants die if you let me."
You shake your head, amused. “That’s not good enough. Everyone’s breath smells bad in the morning.”
"What do you wanna know then?"
“Something on the same level of having your best orgasm.”
"I think you broke me."
“What?”
"You broke me." He repeats as if that is an explanation.
“In what way?”
He kisses you just as desperately as he did in the kitchen, as if this is the first time he kisses you and he can't ever get enough. "I want you for more than one time, do you understand?"
“Oh. Well… That can be arranged.”
"Yeah?" He drags you by your hips, placing you on top of his thighs.
“I would actually like that.”
He kisses you some more, letting his hands wander all over your body, stopping especially on your neck and breasts.
"You like it rough, don't you? Not complaining about me ripping your clothes off, loving the bites." He pulls your hair, just to prove his point in case you deny. You moan.
“Yeah, apparently you like it rough, too.” You don’t deny. Why would you?
"Of course I do, brat." He then turns you around suddenly. "All fours, please."
“Since you asked so nicely,” You stop for the dramatic effect and say as sarcastically as possible: “Boss.”
"Wanna make me your boss?"
“You are already acting like one.” You stand on all fours, pushing your ass back while lowering your head.
"Fuck! You're such a sight, you know?" Bucky's eyes don't leave your body.
“Am I?”
"I wanna look at you like this all day long."
You look at him amused. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much patience.”
You notice him shaking his head. "Of course."
“It’s rude to make me wait like this, you know?”
"Sorry, just wanted to remember this." Bucky feels a little bad for the thoughts he has. He mentally took a picture of you cause he can't ask this from you, right? You're not a couple, and even if you were, it doesn't mean exchanging or keeping photos like this would be okay.
His hips touch your ass as he positions himself at your entrance. "Any limits that come to your mind? I won't ask again."
“We already decided on the rules. I don’t think there’s anything besides them.”
"I'm not gonna hold back this time." Not completely… he grabs a handful of your hair as he thrusts inside you. "I'm gonna pound the fuck out of you and you're gonna take it like a good little girl, understand?"
“I understand. You won’t stop until I say stop.”
"Jesus Christ." He moans halfway inside you at the feel of your extra wet pussy. He feels out of breath just by standing still. "How…"
“Oh, fuck.” You nearly choke. It feels unbelievably good. This position is doing wonders.
"I didn't think-" he says, but at the same time doesn't move an inch. "Fuck, it feels too good, this pussy is driving me crazy. You are driving me crazy." He grips your hair harder without warning and starts to thrusts properly inside you, making sure to squeeze your left breast with his free. The sounds of your wet skin slapping make him curse under his breath.
“You didn’t think what?” You sound out of breath already.
"I cannot fuck you with condoms again." Technically he can, but he doesn’t want to.
You smile widely. “Why is that?”
"Because I am completely fucked."
“You like it that much?”
"Like it?" He puffs, unamused, and starts to finally pound you the way he imagined a few weeks ago. Maybe even harder.
“Oh, fuck!” Yep, he’s right. You are fucked, too.
"You might need to fix me very often, you know?" He drops his hand from your hair just to properly grab your hips. You can barely keep your position like this, his thrusts are so deep.
“Fix you?”
"Yeah. Fix my cock." Oh, that’s what he means.
“We can fix each other then.”
"Ihm." He doesn't say much after this, too focused on kissing your back and keeping the pace at the same time. He's ready to come any minute.
“Harder, Bucky. Please!” You need to come. Really desperately.
"How much harder?" He thrusts a little harder. "More or like this?"
“As hard as you can.”
He doesn't disagree with you, but you know he's holding back even when he pushes harder. And harder. And harder.
"I'm gonna come," he manages to moan. "Fuck I'm gonna come inside you, gonna make a mess. Tell me you… t-tell me you want my come."
“I want your come, Bucky, please. p Please, come with me!” You are already shaking uncontrollably.
"Fuck." That's all you get from him before he's coming, his fingers digging so hard into your skin that you moan again, dizzy from your orgasm.
He keeps moving, making a mess, indeed. It’s already dripping out, you can feel it.
"I came so much." You hear him say suddenly through fogginess.
You smile, resting your head on the bed still, feeling unable to move.
"Not gonna say anything?"
“I died and went to heaven.” You murmur. The orgasm is still running through your veins, making you twitch here and there.
"I've been in heaven for a while."
You finally turn around and look at him. “It was so fucking good.”
"No words." He slowly gets out of you and you notice how happy he is, not taking his eyes off your pussy. "It's gonna start dripping… all over your thighs and sheets. What a nice mark." He even brings a finger to your entrance and pushes back some come.
“Do you have a breeding kink or something?” You smile while asking.
"A breeding kink?"
“Yeah, do you know what it is?”
"Something to do with my come inside you?" He teases. His confusion seems to fade away.
“Yeah, and getting me pregnant.”
He groans, closing his eyes.
“They do that pushing the come back inside thing most of the time.”
"I guess I have a breeding kink." He smiles, accepting it instantly, and finally closes the gap to kiss you. "You might not get rid of me now."
“I knew it!” You point at him with your finger. “I wasn’t gonna get rid of you anyways.”
"Wanna keep me as your boy toy?"
“You wanna be my boy toy?” Your whole face lights up.
"You look quite excited."
“I never had a boy toy before.”
"No?" He shakes his head. "Time to change that. And as your boy toy, I should always make sure you're having a good time." He surprises you by spreading your legs again.
“No, no, no, no. It’s my turn.”
Bucky shakes his head. "Need to get you clean, and then we can do whatever you want, alright?"
“You are really something else.” You sound amazed.
He smirks. "And you're stuck with me. You're all mine now."
You don't get to say anything anymore as you feel his tongue at your entrance. So you just grab his hair, closing your eyes, your exes long forgotten.
“And you are all mine.”
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