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carolmunson · 1 year

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let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie.

g’morning pretty ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go.

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture. “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.”

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it. “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?” “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.” “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again.

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :) see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :)

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning. You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.” “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you. “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks. “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.” “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.” He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed. “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.” “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.” “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?”

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.”

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.”

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?”

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.”

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable.

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice.

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face.

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.”

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?”

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.”

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?”

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.”

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return, “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them.

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again.

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday.

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.”

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles.

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him.

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.”

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.”

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do.

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.”

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.”

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.”

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.”

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.”

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.”

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?”

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.”

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card.

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions.

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?”

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box.

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you.

“What can I get you?” he asks again.

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take.

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see.

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.”

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck.

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically.

“Another banger,” he exclaims.

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise.

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did.

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines.

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s.

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it.

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.”

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is.

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway.

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.”

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’”

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target.

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you.

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.”

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?” “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it.

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?”

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through.

“We have all day, right?” you smirk.

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?”

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow.

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.”

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.”

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?”

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand.

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.”

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.”

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels?

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy?

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?”

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.”

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly.

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.”

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever.

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing.

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.”

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf.

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?”

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.”

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze.

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.”

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.”

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something.

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be.

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store.

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.”

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.”

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it.

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?”

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.”

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest.

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.”

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.”

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again.

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.”

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you.

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention.

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words.

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?”

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.”

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?”

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?”

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.”

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries. “Easter candy?” he asks.

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.”

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?”

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?”

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.”

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in.

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile.

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?”

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully.

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you.

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease.

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.”

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point.

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.”

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console.

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you?

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire.

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?”

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?”

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.”

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?”

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze.

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back.

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks.

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.”

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.”

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more.

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.”

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face.

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts.

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.”

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’”

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head.

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.”

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth.

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.”

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.”

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.”

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.”

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage.

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his.

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green.

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.”

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly.

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now.

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?”

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.”

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.”

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask.

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest, “You gettin’ sleepy?”

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.”

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.”

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?”

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do.

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now?

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped.

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.”

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no.

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.”

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping.

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard.

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.”

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again.

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!”

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes.

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.”

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.”

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile.

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you.

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.”

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.”

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.”

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.”

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception.

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.”

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch.

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth. it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you.

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand.

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy. oh, so you miss me? of course i do :) i miss you, too :)

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?”

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met.

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.”

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.”

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?”

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.”

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted.

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks.

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back.

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.”

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?”

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.”

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.”

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them.

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.”

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds.

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.” “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.”

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees.

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks.

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.” “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage.

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser.

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark.

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late? grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.”

yeah, show me :)

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand.

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it.

jfc you know what you’re doing whaaaaat? what do you mean? ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean. do you not like it? i like it a little too much you wanna see it from the back?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers.

of course i do

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru. you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn? lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it.

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?”

yeah? you’d take care of it? only if you asked nicely :)

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand.

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please. what a good boy. :)

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.”

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth?

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first.

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full oh you wanna shut me up? is that it? i don’t think it takes much.

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off.

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that?

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat.

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it you sound very confident because i am is it big?

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit.

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it. i know i can take it. so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here. so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that. so you are jerking it in your bedroom? the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good.

🙈 stop yeah? i can stop. don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come? cause i do have my fingers between my thighs

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls.

does it feel good, sweetheart? it would feel better if you were doing it for me. can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…”

absolutely.

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring.

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does.

“Hey there,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan.

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again.

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh.

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm.

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.”

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax.

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.”

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead.

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?”

“Yeah,” you whine to him.

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”

“How?” you ask breathily.

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.”

“I’m not needy,” you protest.

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.”

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver.

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?”

“Yeah…”

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh.

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?”

“How long have you been doing it?”

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly.

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?”

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you.

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.”

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over.

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low.

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea.

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?”

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you.

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm? Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.”

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down.

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls.

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.”

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober.

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully.

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly.

“Poor thing,” he offers.

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.”

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.”

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters.

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.”

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.”

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours.

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned.

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere.

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go.

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.”

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.”

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy.

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment. “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling.

“I missed you,” he says confidently.

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group.

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug.

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over.

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose.

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.”

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind.

“Guess who it is,” she laughs.

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand.

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.”

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts.

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.”

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face.

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.”

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.”

“So you like her?” Eddie grins.

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.”

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort.

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.”

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs.

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all.

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses.

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat.

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt.

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too. He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it.

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit –

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse.

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.”

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines.

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.”

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time.

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs.

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair.

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs.

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks.

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this.

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going.

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently.

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room, “You even know how to play?”

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain.

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.”

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again.

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not. Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade.

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest.

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting.

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin.

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen.

“Do I win a prize?”

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.”

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.” He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight.

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again.

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.”

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other.

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.”

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips.

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands.

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths.

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.”

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums.

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp.

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.”

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.”

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?”

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar.

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually –

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep.

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves.

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.”

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck.

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind.

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft.

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips.

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle.

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.”

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.”

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks.

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel.

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit.

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead.

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.”

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout.

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again.

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him.

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger.

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue.

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles.

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.”

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time?

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.”

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?”

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…”

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game.

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish.

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you.

“Eddie…”

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him.

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.”

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch.

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back.

“M’gonna cum…oh shit — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers.

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead.

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.”

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate.

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?”

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.”

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?”

“Much better.”

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks.

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen.

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face.

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate.

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –”

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is.

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?”

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn.

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping.

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.”

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?”

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.”

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed.

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.”

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.”

Jingle. Click. Creak.

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.”

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen.

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.”

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second.

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.”

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.” Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.”

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him.

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit.

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?”

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much.

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x y/n

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tommydarlings · 6 months

Text

Scream! | s.v

pairing: dark!dom!rbr!seb x sub!reader

warnings: smut, dark, blowjob, dacryphilia, mentions of spit, gagging, hair pulling

w/c: 2.4k

summary: Running into somebody dressed up as ghostface at this Halloween party you were at was already scary enough, what was even scarier though, was the fact that your crazy ex boyfriend was hiding underneath the infamous mask.

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walking through the noisy house with your little, white dress and halo on your head, clearly representing an innocent angel as you pushed yourself through the other people that were dressed up for Halloween, was hard.

“God, where the hell is the kitchen,” you mumbled to yourself as your eyes scanned every room, quickly releasing a tiny gasp as you found it.

Slowly, you pushed through new people again, quickly refilling your glas before you turned around and bumped right into a wide, broad chest.

“Oh, s-sorry!” You loudly apologised over the loud music, hoping that the person you just bumped into heard you. But as you looked up and noticed who you actually bumped into, you gulped with wide eyes.

You bumped into your dear, ex — Sebastian, who was now standing proudly in front of you with his infamous grin, wearing a black pants and no t-shirt…ghostface mask that he previously had on his face, now him his hand.

“Y/n!” He spoke loudly with an evil grin, “Didn’t expect to see you here! C‘mere-”

“N-No, go away,” you nervously shook your head as tears immediately entered your eyes, hands trembling next to your hips as you avoided eye contact with the man who hurt you so many times in the past.

Sebastian frowned, slowly pulling his arms away from you, harshly squeezing his ghostface mask as he noticed your weird discomfort, “but why?” He smiled down at you, biting his lip as his smile slowly fell, “You do know that I always just wanted to protect you, right?” The German whispered as he walked closer to you.

You briefly glanced up at him as you backed away but you didn’t came far, you immediately hit the hard counter as you raised your arms and tried to cover yourself as much as possible.

You felt so naked and uncomfortable as his dark eyes stared down at you with an emotion you couldn’t name.

Your ex boyfriend frowned again and shook his head, “Oh no, no, no, angel,” you hated when he called you that, forcing fresh tears down your face as the young redbull driver called you the nickname he always used to call you, “don’t hide from me, liebling… you never have to hide from me,” he mumbled as brushed some hair out of your face.

You usually you would think that those words are very sweet and reassuring, now they just scare you, making your body tremble as you gazed down at his mask.

Of course he would dress up as ghostface.

Sebastian noticed the curious gaze you had on his mask, “You like it?” He asked with a smile before he put the mask on his face, leaning forward and caging you in between his muscular arms, giving you no option to leave him now.

You were trapped by your crazy ex boyfriend who was dressed up as a famous serial killer, something you definitely didn’t expect to happen today.

You turned your head to the side, gulping and taking deep breaths as he let his nose run along your temple, taking a deep breath now as well.

“Are you scared, liebling?” Sebastian muttered in a deep and intimating tone while his hands were slowly creeping closer to your hips, “Oh you’re so scared, aren’t you little one?” He tilted his head to the side, mask still covering his face, “I can smell your fear through my mask,” your ex chuckled as if this is all just a silly game.

Probably that’s exactly what it is to him, but definitely not to you.

He raised his hand and gently placed it on your cheek, so gently that you though that he was almost worried of breaking you if he touched you with his rough hands, “You were always a scared little bunny, weren’t you? Or should I say… angel,” the German whispered, probably wearing a sick smile under his mask.

You gulped, desperately trying to blink your tears away as you still avoided eye contact with him, “I think y-you should l-leave-”

“I think that you’ve got no allowance to tell me what to do, hmm? Wasn’t it always like that, angel — can’t you remember anymore y/n baby?” He mumbled beneath his scary mask in a hush tone as he wiped some of your tears away, suddenly grabbing your wrist with his other hand, swiftly leading you out of the kitchen.

You stumbled over your own feet as he quickly dragged you through the busy and noisy house, more tears shooting into your eyes as he walked towards a big wooden door.

Quickly, you realised that you were standing in front of the cellar.

“S-Sebastian, what-” you gasped as he opened the door and led the two of you down the stairs, quickly entering the dark and scary looking cellar with you, only briefly turning around to lock the door behind him after he pushed you towards the hard and cold concrete wall, making your body shiver as he positioned himself in front of you.

Your hands were shaking, so were your legs as he looked down at your trembling body, mask back in his hand again.

“What d-do you want, s-sebastian? We can t-talk about a-anything, really!” You immediately spoke up, backing yourself up even more against the wall since you really didn’t wanted to be close to him at the moment.

He chuckled down at you, squeezing his mask again before he sighed and licked his lips, “Talk? I’ve told you so many times in the past that I love you — and every damn time you just started crying-”

“B-Because you were t-threatening-”

“You shut the fuck up when I’m talking, got it?” He harshly spat at you in a much louder and rougher tone, slamming you by your shoulders against the cold wall, making you hiss before you turned your face away from him and softly cried.

He furrowed his brows a bit, “Don’t cry right now, angel,” he mumbled deeply, thumbs caressing your naked shoulders as he stared at your fluffy halo, “You look so pretty when you cry but I don’t want to see you in pain, okay?” He nodded along his words as he let his hands glide down your upper arms.

You sniffled, wiping some of your tears away as you looked down at the floor, “Fucking hell,” he murmured under his breath to himself, “you really do look absolutely gorgeous when you cry, little angel,” he bit his lip, trying to hide a smile but failing miserably.

He removed his gaze from your face and looked up at your halo, softly touching it with the tip of his finger while his other hand played with the strap of your white dress,

“Has anyone already told you that this costume looks magnificent on you?” The German redbull driver asked you with a wide smile, fingers slowly pulling the thin straps off of your shoulder.

You only gulped, staring back up at him again as your shaking hands reached up to pull the straps back up but he shook his head with furrowed brows and dark eyes, “No, no, no — don’t do this… you look way better without it, I know you do,” he whispered in a hush tone, ghostface mask now laying on the cold floor next to the two of you.

This time, you shook your head, “I-I think that I d-don’t want this r-right now sebastian,” you cried in a pathetic tone, voice barely able to be heard since you were talking so quietly as you still tried to push his wrists away but Sebastian was faster and stronger.

In a fast motion, he removed his black belt and wrapped it tightly around your wrists, forcing a loud hiss out of you before he wrapped his hand around your throat while the other one was already pulling your angelic dress entirely off of your body.

You felt so cold and helpless, something you often felt back then when you were still with Sebastian.

Then he decided to play with the straps of your bra, palms now placed onto your shoulders before he quickly bend down and picked the ghostface mask back up, slowly placing it on his face again.

Sebastian tilted his head slightly to the side, hands on your shoulders again, thumbs running along the straps of the only thing that is luckily still covering your chest as you looked down at the floor in pure fear.

Suddenly, without a word… Sebastian forced you onto your knees, one hand leaving your body while the other one was now being placed onto your head, forcing you to stay down.

Swiftly, he unbuttoned his black pants, freeing his hard cock and stroking it as he stared down at you with his scary looking ghostface mask, making you shiver even more.

You sniffled again, “S-Sebastian… you don’t k-know what you’re d-doing, please!” You wiped some of your own tears away as you begged your ex to just let you go but definitely that wasn’t his plan as he pulled your by your hair even closer to his dick, making you hiss in pain.

“Oh I know exactly what I am doing, kleines,” little one, he mumbled in a deep tone under his mask as he bushed your plastic halo a bit further away to get a better grip on your hair, “Trust me,” he finished his intimidating statement before he spoke up again,

“Open up or I’ll drag you up those stairs and show everybody up there that you’re actually a little devil and not an innocent little angel,” he threatened you as he pulled on your hair again after, briefly fixing your halo.

You gulped and whined before you very carefully and slowly opened your mouth, immediately gagging and squeezing your eyes shut as he shoved his big dick down your throat, not giving you any kind of warning.

The German threw his head back and groaned through the mask, chuckling as he heard your gagging noises, “Just Like that, god,” he mumbled deeply under his breath,

“forgot how good that tiny throat of yours can suck cock,” he said as he continued forcing himself down your throat, chuckling or laughing each time you loudly gag.

You wanted to place your palms onto his thighs for leverage every time your nose hit his abdominal, but you realised that you couldn’t since he tied your hands together with his black leather belt, squeezing the tears out of your eyes before you gazed up at him as you realised that you could do absolutely nothing right now.

Sebastian loudly moaned as he looked down at you through his ghostface mask, putting both hands on your face now, thumb wiping some of your tears away as he guided your head by your wet, cold cheeks,

“You look so pretty, fucking hell, angel,” Sebastian chuckled before he groaned, “don’t try to hide those noises — wanna hear how badly you choke on my cock, you understand me?” he nodded along his words.

You only squeezed your eyes shut and loudly whined before another gag was forced out of your again as he shoved his cock down your already sore throat, “P-Please, sebastian, p-please,” you helplessly whined as he stuffed your mouth with his big dick.

“Awww, poor baby can’t even form a proper sentence, huh?” Sebastian chuckled through the mask, “Why not, hmm? Is she to busy gagging on my dick like a little slut, yeah?” He asked you in a teasing tone, one palm guiding your head again while the other one collected some of the spit that was dribbling down your chin.

“We don’t want that to go to waste, now do we?” Your ex boyfriend mumbled in a hush tone before he briefly removed himself from your mouth, only giving you a few seconds to breath before he quickly smeared the handful of spit all over your mouth, cheeks and nose, quickly stuffing your mouth with his cock again after he coated you in your spit and ruined your angelic makeup.

Sebastian threw his head back again, raising his hand to brush some of your tears and spit covered strands of hair out of your face, looking down at you again, “I don’t know about you but I actually don’t think that you look like an angel anymore — and you also for sure are not acting like one, liebling,” he chuckled as if all of this is just a joke to him as you focused yourself on breathing through the nose since he didn’t stop forcing his big cock down your throat for one second.

Sebastian noticed how you desperately tried to breath through your nose, tilting his head to the side before he slowly brought his hands down to your nose, shutting entirely your air supply off by squeezing your nostrils together, making you scream on his cock,

“Yeah, scream for me little angel, scream!” 'Ghostface' laughed as tears ran down your cheeks and landed on his wrist.

Sebastian slowly removed his hand from your nose and let you breath again before he forced your back against the wall, fingers playing with the halo that’s sitting on top of your head as he balanced himself onto the cold concrete wall by his other hand, loudly groaning and moaning as he let his head fall forward.

“My god, angel,” he groaned loudly in a deep and raspy tone, mask slightly sliding forward, “knew that sooner or later I’m gonna be able to get you on your fucking knees for me again,” he shook his head and chuckled wickedly.

You only continued gagging and crying as you stared up at his mask, bounded wrists laying helplessly in your lap as you squeezed your fingers together.

“Fucking shit, don’t stop — I‘m gonna cum in that pretty little mouth of yours,” he whispered in a hush tone as he roughly placed his big hand onto the back of your head, forcing himself down your throat even more as he came with a deep groan and moan, briefly slamming his other hand against the wall with a loud thud, making you jump a bit.

Suddenly, he quickly threw the mask off of his face and pulled you up by your upper arm, forcing you by your jaw to look up at him, blue eyes now darkly staring down at you as his hand squeezed your wet cheeks together.

“Tears, spit and cum… my favourite combination,” he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs while you gasped for air and whined as he cupped your messy cheeks, “I love you,” he suddenly told you with raised brows,

“I love you so much and I’ll make sure that you will feel the same,” he slowly nodded along his words as he adjusted the halo on top of your head with a smile on his face, “I mean… c'mon y/n baby, don’t you wanna be in the sequel with me?”

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imajinxnation · 18 days

Note

Ted asking the reader out on a date and they r both super shy

Babe In The Records

Ted Logan x FEM!Reader

SUMMARY // You work at the record shop in the Sam Dimas mall and Ted finally finds the courage to ask you out..

TW // Fluff, Short and Sweet..

ALL GIFS FROM PINTEREST

I agree with Ted.. ya'll are the most bodacious babes ever!!

Oh God.. there you were, just going through and organizing the records and tapes, and all Ted could do was stare.. He swore you were a goddess. Ted had met you when you were cleaning in the record store and he had bumped into you, quite literally.

The first time you met, Ted was literally running into the store, desperate to get a hold on the last Van Halen record before someone else did. Needless to say, he had mistook you for a buyer as you reached for the record and tackled you to the ground to reach it before you.. You were not impressed. You quickly explained to him that you were just moving it and that you worked at the record store. He felt pretty stupid after you told him that, bought the Van Halen record and quickly got out before he embarrassed himself more in front of you.

Ever since that first meeting, he's been wanting so desperately to make it up to you, and has tried to ask you out multiple times, but each time, he chickens out at the last moment.

But not today, oh no! Today is the day that he's gonna do it! (Though he tells himself this every time and never does..)

"Hey, dude! How's it hangin'!?" Ted asks cheerfully, bounding up to you like a golden retriever puppy.

You jump slightly, not expecting anyone to talk to you. You look up and see Ted, a big goofy smile on his adorably handsome face. You sigh and smile back. His cheerful self always made your day so much better..

"Today's been slow, but that's better than totally packed, I guess," you reply with a small smile, a tint of a blush running across your face, "but what about you, Ted? How're you?"

"Better now that I'm in the presence of a totally bodacious babe," Ted grins, but dies on the inside. Why did he say that's, she's gonna think he's weird, everyone does!

You laugh and blush, bashfully looking down, suddenly interested in the sneakers on your feet and smiling stupidly.

"Aww.. that's sweet Ted, but you don't have to butter me up, you know I have a soft spot for you. So, what do you need?" You ask, placing a hand on your hip, waiting for a request from him.

"W-would you like to, uh.." Ted trails off, blushing wildly, looking everywhere but at you. He shuffles a bit and takes a deep breath before speaking again.

"Would you wanna go and get a cheese pretzel with me some time..?" Ted asks shyly, his cheeks a bright red in embarrassment.

A huge smile forms on your lips, and you nod, excitement rushing through your body, your brain and heart both screaming at you to say something.

"Yeah! Yes, I'd love to Ted!" You bounce on the balls of your feet happily.

Ted's eyes light up at your response and does the biggest air guitar gesture of his entire life, so happy that you didn't reject him.

After he stops doing air guitar, he takes your hands in his, squeezing them lightly.

"Okay! Next time you're free, we'll go and get a cheese pretzel together, and we could chill at my house after and listen to some wicked tunes, yeah?" Ted says all in one breath, the doofy smile on his face never ceasing.

"That sounds awesome, Ted. I'm free on Saturday, okay?" You laugh at his enthusiasm. Not to make fun of him, but in pure unadulterated joy.

"Excellent! Meet me back here at the mall and we'll have the most excellent time, Babe!" He gives you a quick, sweet kiss on the cheek before running off back home to plan more for your totally wicked date.

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sensei-venus · 4 months

Note

Xolo Maridueña x midsized!fem reader enemies to lovers smut? 💜😼

(Unedited) (Borderline Smut, Enemies to Lovers, Cussing, Xolo being a dick, Making Out, Fingering.) (P2 TBA)

“For the hundredth time no Xolo! You can’t borrow my practice board! Go ask one of the assistants to go get you one. This is mine, I brought it from home.” Reader practically screamed from across the court yard. She stomped away from the main set, her personal breaking board in hand.

The staff on hand watched the whole situation go down in only a matter of minutes. No one had the nerve to try and get between the two. Their bickering was a common thing on and off set. Almost everyone had grown accustom to their weird behavior.

Every incident seemed to start with Xolo doing something to get on Reader’s bad side. He would try and do the smallest things to piss her off when ever he could. Every chance he could he did something.

Taking her things, pranking her with Jacob, saying mean things, taunting her on set , making her mess up scenes just to laugh at her. He would constantly pester her over tiny things knowing what ever he was doing would make her mad or upset.

The minute she showed up to work on set he seemed to have his eyes on her. It was almost as if he made it a personal mission to become her enemy. Just about everyone was surprised at his actions. It wasn’t like Xolo to be so mean to someone and so randomly at that. At times even Jacob and Tanner had to say something to him about his nasty behavior.

After a while they just gave up on trying to stop him.

He never showed any signs of stoping his new mean nature to the new chubby girl. They just tried their best to keep them away from each other as much as possible.

Which didn’t always work, seeing as they were both on set together a lot.

“Oh come on, can’t you let me use it for like a hour or so? It’s not that big of a deal you know. You’re kinda being a bitch about this.” Xolo laughed as she walked away from the main set.

They had just finished the last scene of the day so everyone was slowly disappearing off set for the day. A few staff members and set hands still prowled around to take things down. The only main cast members still on set where Xolo Reader and Tanner.

“Dude can you stop saying that stuff? Reader didn’t do anything to you to have you messing with her all the time.” Tanner hissed from Xolo’s side. His eyes were pulled tight as he grimaced Xolo’s way. This made Xolo roll his eyes while pushing his thick curls back with his free hand. He snorted at Tanners words and just shook his head.

“No man you should really go apologize to her right now.” Tanner said in a serious tone. He crossed his arms as they sat in a short silence before Xolo groaned loudly. Tanner being fed up with the other guy started to walk away with a small head shake.

Heading towards his own trailer he hears Xolo yell out “Fine! But just this once because I don’t want her getting the directors involved!” Tanner just rolled his eyes.

Xolo slowly made his way towards the trailer that was known to be Reader’s on the back lot of the set. It was parked out by the very back of the trailer lot. He wondered if that was just where they assigned it to be dropped or if the girl asked for it to be parked there. The thought was put on the back burner as he neared the trailer.

With a small huff he walked to the door and knocked. A quick “Come in!” Sounded from the other side making him open the door and walk in.

The trailer was a decent size, a large vanity set up near the door, a small table and booth nook in the middle with some over head shelves, a small bathroom in the back and a very small couch on the ver back end. The place screamed “Reader’s sanctuary” from the moment he stepped in.

He was actually a little surprised at the inside, he had never actually been in Reader’s trailer before. It was definitely decorated in her own style.

Reader sat in one of the booths in the nook area scrolling on her phone. She looked up with a small but the minute she got a good look at Xolo she was scowling. Venom seemed to almost drip from her voice “Oh great Xolo, back again to try and fuck up my day? What your still mad I wouldn’t let you mess with my board? I told you to go get your own you asshole.” Her eyes locked onto his. He could feel one of his eyes twitching.

“No I don’t want your stupid board you dumb-“ he quickly thought back to Tanner and his words. His own thoughts coming back up about the situation. He knew that he was on thin ice right now because of his and Reader’s consent arguing on set.

One more big situation and he could be suspended.

“No I’m just here to apologize for what I said earlier and for trying to take your practice board. It’s my bad, I’m sorry.”

“Puff- yeah right. Who said something this time? Jacob? Mary? Pay-“

“It was actually Tanner.”

The room was silent for a moment as all of it sank in.

“Yeah Tanner would be the one to be done with your little bullshit comments and big mouth.” She raised a brow while smirking at him. Her eyelashes fluttering a little as she looked up at him. Her eyes piercing his while they just stared at each other.

He hated her so much.

He hated her eyes and her lashes, her brows and lips, her cute noes and chubby cheeks. Her soft hair and nice shoulders.

Her fat tits that always seems to be pushed up to the high heavens. Soft belly and nice thick hips and thighs.He wanted them wrapped around his head. He wanted them to smother him while he got off to it.

Why did she have to be so fucking difficult.

“Yeah what ever Reader, just accept my apology so I can leave.” He sighed. Reader only smirked before crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. With a laugh she reply’s back “What if I don’t? What if I don’t want to accept your stupid lame ass apology? What are you going to do about it?” She taunted. Xolo’s patience was growing thinner by the moment the longer he stood there.

Not to mention his earlier thoughts starting to get to him. His pants were tight and it was only a matter of time before it got worse and Reader might be able to catch on to him. The pants he put on after filming were not as baggy as he would like them to be at the moment. If his dick got any harder it would be insanely obvious to everyone in the room.

She quickly gets up from the table and starts to quickly push him back. Not physically but her stance causes him to walk backwards to the front of the trailer again. At first he thinks she trying to get him to back out of her trailer, just kick him out before going to report him for his behavior. Soon enough he is backed into the wall by the door. But she doesn’t force him towards it. Just backing him into the wall by her vanity.

Moments tick by as they just stand there together in the heated air.

He doesn’t even know what happens next. Maybe he blacked out or something because when his eyes come back into focus he’s pressed up against her.

His body is smashed into hers as he lifts her up onto her heavy vanity. Things clank onto the floor as they are pushed off the table top but they don’t seem to care. His lips are on hers while his hands grab at her fatty sides gripping at her rolls. His fingers push up her shirt and sink into her soft flesh. She moans into his mouth while he pinches at her skin. She shivers at the attention and grips at his shirt collar. Her own hands slowly dip under his tshirt to ghost over his tanned and ripped muscles. Finger tips dipping into his abs.

“Why do you have your be so fucking difficult all the time?”

“Why do you have to be so annoying all of them time.” Reader hisses as they pulled away for a brief moment.

They both panted for a while before Xolo started to get handsy again. In a blink of an eye he was helping take off Reader’s pants, throwing them somewhere on the trailer floor. His fingers dug into her panties, peeling them off her and letting them fall below. His lips meet hers again while he started to play with her. Fingers fondling around her wet folds and sipping thought them.

Collecting all her wetness so he could tease at her hole. She was dripping wet by the time his digits found their way into her hole. She whimpered as he plunged in, fingering her tight cunt open.

He smirked into their kiss at the feeling of her tight walls around him.

(Part two maybe???🥴)

#cobra kai #cobra kai blog #cobra kai ask blog #cobra kai imagine #xolo mariduena #xolo mariduena x reader #xolo maridueña #cobra kai cast #xolo mariduena x chubby reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x reader #smut #smut thoughts #cobra kai smut

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pineappleciders · 1 year

Note

Could you do omori x reader thats rich and spoils them with gifts and trips and stuff? 💛Thanks

A/N: i already did this with aubrey but i'm gonna redo her part cuz it was awhile ago

RW OMORI characters with a rich S/O who spoils them

includes: SUNNY, AUBREY, KEL, HERO, MARI, and BASIL

SUNNY

SUNNY hates it

not because he doesn't like gifts or money or anything, but he truly thinks he doesn't deserve it. you can spoil anyone in the world, why him?

he'll get flustered and look away mumbling "thanks" if you hand him a gift

concerned as to why you can just. blow money on him

he'll accept these things, because he doesn't want to be rude, but it's still awfully embarrassing . he has no idea how he scored someone like you

he wants to scream into his pillow whenever u show up to his house with his favorite drink/food

tries to go all out and hand-make you gifts for your birthday and such but he feels bad since it can never out-do your gifts

he's kinda scared you're gonna betray him and you're trying to get on his good side or something, so it helps if u reassure him you just love him a whole lot

AUBREY

she doesn't get it, why would you do something like that for lil old her??

but she cherishes everything you do for her to the fullest extent.

she spends a lot of time at ur house and has lots of sleepovers with u to get away from her own home life

she rlly thinks she doesn't deserve you. like at all

tries to take you places and pay for your meal but she can't do it all the time, so she makes the most out of every date and trip

gets embarrassed if u show up with a gift and just hugs you until she isn't flushed anymore,, she can't have you seeing her face!!

she doesn't have a lot of money so she really appreciates everything u get her, especially food

gobbles on any food u get her or dinner u buy,, she isn't passing free food up!!

KEL

"oh! for me?? are you sure??"

he'll be awfully confused every time you randomly show up with something he's been wanting

if you buy him food or take him to GINO's a lot he'll try to cut down his order to make you pay less but gobbles it all up

gets embarrassed if u ask him if he wants anything else,,, like stop !! spending!!! money!! on! me!!!!

"haha, no, i don't wanna make you pay more... wait, where are you going?!"

he tries to tell u not to get him anything but he is a big growing boy that needs his nutrients. he gobbles up whatever you buy so you know none of it went to waste

he accepts your offers and gifts gladly, but not without hesitation!! he hates being a bother

"hah, i'm supposed to be paying for your meal.." lowkey damages his masculinity

HERO

he's also confused. why are you buying him all of this?? cookbooks??? new, fancy silverware??? paying his dogs medical bills??? what the fuck

he's actually kinda skeptical about it at first,, like what if you're breaking up w him?? are you trying to soften him up so you can backstab him?????

but he realizes that's stupid and awkwardly accepts anything u do/give him. he gets all blushy about it and starts stuttering though

he spoils you back. to an extent because your family is richer n all that, but he still tries to spoil you by getting you gifts and flowers and chocolates and stuff you like/need

it's weird to him because he's usually the spoiler/gentleman in the relationship,, so he's lowkey swept off his feet

he would've done that for you anyway, but now he has to do it extra so it isn't unfair!!! he feels like he's taking advantage of you or something

MARI

she always denies everything u do/get for her,, but she'll eventually accept it and kiss you on the cheek as a thanks

like SUNNY she doesn't think she deserves that kind of treatment,, you shouldn't be wasting your money so fast like that!!

she does love the romantic aspect,, like if you went on a trip together all alone and romantic,, or if you show up to her house with flowers and chocolates and... is that a diamond ring?

it gets her all blushy but she tries to hide it by being devious and teasing u,, then she goes home and goes crazy over you in her room

"oh? is this for me?? why, if i didn't know better i'd say you're in love!"

teases to cover up the fact that she's embarrassed as fuck

BASIL

he's constantly telling you not to spend any money on him

he tries to spoil you back by giving you home-planted flowers and drawings and pictures, but he never feels like it's enough

"really, you shouldn't be spending this much money.."

makes him super flushed if u show up with something he said he wanted,, he didn't mean for you to actually go out and buy it!!!

always insists that he pays for dinner. always

gives u lots of hand crafted things and drawings,, he really hopes you think it's the thought that counts

cherishes everything u give him,, new garden shears? he's going to use these the rest of his life

if u two go on a trip he takes lots of photos of you and the scenery, and has an entire album dedicated to you

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fishsticksloser · 1 year

Note

Hello!! I saw requests were open, so if it's not a problem, i would like to request the rottmnt brothers (separatly ofc), falling in love at first sight with reader, since reader's job is near of the sewers and everytime (Turtle of option) comes out, he always see them, so when he asks April if she knows them, she reveals that reader it's a close friend of her, which makes April and the brothers to organize a meeting with him (i know is kinda cliche but anyways).

Don't feel with the need of doing this, you can easily delete or ignore this request if you don't like, hope you have a nice day :DD

Love At First Sight

Mikey x gn!reader

Warnings: kind of slow burn??, eventual fluff, awkwardness, aged up

A/N: this was a little difficult for me to write... Ngl, I've never felt this so I tried, please don't be upset if this sucks. :( I decided to just do one because coming up with 4 scenarios was too much for my tiny brain...

You work at an art studio. How did Mikey know that? Because you worked right next to the entrance to the lair. He saw you almost every time he was leaving or coming home. Sometimes he'd sit and watch you paint after hours. He wanted so badly to go in and paint with you, but he knew he couldn't... April, Cassandra, and Casey had been around weird stuff pretty much all their lives so 4 turtle men had no affect on them. But normal people? They'd probably faint.

"Hey, Mikey." April greets. "What's goin' on? Your brothers say you've been pretty quiet recently. Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." Mike mumbles. "There's just this person that works at the art studio up there that I really like."

"I have a friend that works there, maybe I can help." April smiles, nudging him "What's their name?"

Mikey hesitates. Dr. Feelings wouldn't hesitate! So he spilled, your name falling out.

"No way..." April gasps.

"W-What?"

"I've been friends with them forever! You so got this!"

"Y-Yeah, well... I don't know if you noticed but I'm a turtle."

"So? I like you."

"You've known us since you were 8."

"Whatever, call me if you want help."

April left, off to talk to the other 3 turtles, hoping they could help convince Mikey.

"Mikey's got a crush?" Raph asks.

"Well why didn't he just say so!?" Leo grins. "We've totally got this."

"Uh. Leo? Are you forgetting?" Donnie scoffs. "He's both Dr. Feelings and Dr. Delicate Touch. This is going to be hard."

"Donnie's right." Raph crosses his arms. "Dr. Delicate Touch feels nothing. Plus, if he finds out that we know... I don't even want to think about it..."

"Well then, I've totally got this." Leo laughs.

A few weeks went by and they still hadn't convinced Mikey to ask April for help, so they came up with a plan to make them meet. It was dangerous, of course, but they still had hope.

He didn't have it.

≺✨*: .｡. 🧡 .｡.:*✨≻

"Mikey, come on!" Leo calls.

"Coming!" Mikey gets to the exit and the 2 of them start climbing. "Where's Raph and Don?"

"They're meeting us there with April." Leo answers.

Once up top, Leo disappears. Mikey looks around, helplessly. The back door to your art studio opens and you step out with April. Mikey is frozen, they set him up...

"Oh!" April fake gasps. "Mikey!"

"What?" You ask, turning your head to face wherever April was looking.

"This is my adopted brother, Michelangelo!" April grins.

"H-Hi, it's nice to meet you..." Mikey stutters, shaking your hand. You didn't seem scared, more confused, which April took as a good sign.

"It's nice to meet you too..." You nod. "Adopted brother?"

"They kind of adopted me." April shrugs. "He's half human."

"Half... Box turtle?"

"Y-Yep!"

It was silent for a minute or 2. Like you were decided on whether running away, screaming was an option. You studied Mikey and he started feeling self concious.

"... Weirder things have happened in New York." You finally spoke before turning back to April. "You said they. Are there more?"

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sadhours · 1 year

Text

Wicked Sensation

part six // billy hargrove x f!reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (f recieving), slapping, dirty talk, billy being agressive, steve being too good of a guy, angst, underage drinking

“You can take me,” you tell Steve before he has a chance to say hello.

You’d lied awake for hours after Billy had left last night, thinking about how while at first the idea of going to the dance with Steve as a game to Billy you’ve come to realize that’s exactly what it was, a game to Billy. It hurt that he would use the opportunity to have yet another leg up on Steve in this dumb feud they had going on. And it wasn’t even like Steve would know, it was like Billy wanted to hurt him and play mind games Steve wouldn’t even realize Billy was behind. You thought about calling off the whole plan but decided you deserved to actually have some fun and Steve was very much that. Conversations between you two were as easy as they come. Steve made you laugh and you liked the contrast between his easy going attitude and Billy’s intensity.

“Really?” Steve chirped, “Awesome, so uh, cool, cool, yeah.”

“I’ll pick a red dress,” you interpret his stuttering, hand on his chest because you see Billy out of the corner of your eye and maybe you can play the game to your advantage. “Pick me up at 5 for dinner.”

You wave goodbye, eyes darting back to see Billy with amused wide eyes which he has to mask quickly when Tommy walks up to him. You wonder who Billy’s going to go to the dance with, the idea making your stomach twist in jealousy. Which only worsens when you get to class and hear other girls talking about it. Since he hadn’t been making moved on anyone and was seemingly single they figured it was open season.

“You think he’s going to ask someone? Would it be totally weird to ask him?” you overhear Peggy’s voice and roll your eyes. Of course she’s still pining over him. Then you fall down a rabbit hole of thinking about Billy having sex with these girls. Did he touch them the way he touched you? The sensations were extremely hard to forget, not that you really tried to. Was what you two shared special and saved just for you or did he make all these other women crumble under his touch as well? You’re thinking about it for the rest of the school day, flashes of Billy sweating over top the list of women you know he’s been with.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asks on the ride home. Max has headphones on so you’re tempted to admit the reason you haven’t said a single word to him but it just doesn’t feel like the right moment. The two of you never talked about feelings when the sun was still out.

“Just a weird day,” you explain which isn’t exactly a lie.

“Is it about winter formal? Listen, I’d like to take you but…” He starts.

You interrupt, “It’ll ruin what we have.” You’ve heard him say it a couple times. You’ve told him you understand every time. “That’s not what I’m upset about.”

Billy squeezes your thigh and you picture him doing it to every bitch that’s been in his car so you jerk away. “I’m fine,” you insist and look out the window.

He backs off with a sigh, turning the dial up on his stereo to drown out the bad mood. You don’t say bye when he parks in front of his house, storming in your house and slamming the door behind you. Since the house is empty you scream out, closing your eyes tight when you do so and not giving a shit if Billy could hear it. However, you don’t expect to see your dad and little brother running into the living room.

“Oh,” your cheeks flush, “I thought I was alone.”

Your dad looks even more worried than before, “You okay?”

“I got asked to Winter Formal,” you tell him, tossing your backpack on the ground. “What are you two doing home?”

“Your brother is ‘sick’,” your dad says with air quotes, “Had to leave work early to get him. The neighbor boy ask you?”

“No, Billy didn’t ask me. One of the most popular boys asked me,” you vent to him.

He takes the opportunity, you usually never complained about your love life to him. He grabs a beer from the fridge and offers it to you, “Why didn’t Billy ask you if he’s been sneaking into your room for months?”

“His dad wouldn’t like me,” you admit, opening the beer and guzzling it down. You half expect your dad to scold you but he doesn’t.

“Ya know, I had to work on his dads car the other week… he’s a real dick,” your dad levels with you.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Did you say yes?” he asks, grabbing a beer for himself.

“I… Billy told me to and I do want to go so yes, I said yes. But I don’t want to hurt this guy because I like him but… I like him like I like Eddie,” you spew out.

Your dad sighs, joining you at the kitchen table. “It’s not good to lead people on. I think you oughta tell this fella you just want to be friends.”

You think about your light flirting with Steve earlier that day. It felt good to flirt with him but it’s not like you wanted to break things off with Billy to pursue Steve. “I know,” you sigh, “I just wish things could be different with Billy.”

“Compromise is important. I learned that with your mom. I wished things were different with her but when I look back, I wished I was more patient and compassionate,” your dad reveals and it breaks your heart a bit. You missed your mom but you thought your dad was a good guy and if she couldn’t even bother to check in every once in a while then maybe she was the bad actor.

You have no idea how to talk to your dad about your mom leaving so you just nod, “You’re right…” you sigh and stand up, “I’m gonna go out front for a bit.”

Your dad grins with a nod, “Do what feels right, pumpkin.”

When you’re outside you see Billy taking out the trash, watching as you light your smoke and you raise your beer to him. He shakes his head but he’s smiling before he blows you a kiss. You feel your heart skip a bit, swooning for him easily before he’s back inside. You couldn’t tell your dad about the intimate reasons you were upset. You didn’t bother Eddie with sexual details or problems so that left the problem to talk to it about. Which you weren’t looking forward to but for your sanity you had to ask him.

You’re waiting for Billy to call since you’d kind of given him the cold shoulder you expected him to give you space. You glance to your alarm clock and see it’s nearing midnight. If he was gonna call it would have been by now. You sigh and get up, standing in your mirror while you undress. You watch yourself and wonder if anything was different between you and Peggy, underneath it all. Peggy probably wears nighties, you think and without much of a second thought, you’re digging in your closet for the one you own, a Christmas present from your grandma. You hold the hanger in front of you, a simple white slip with a delicate lace along the décolletage. She’d probably wear something like this, you think as you pull it over your naked body.

Knock, knock. Your head snaps towards the window to see Billy looking back at you with a surprised grin on his face. You walk over, unlocking the window before sliding it open.

“I’ve never seen that before,” he says, his mouth hanging open when he’s finished.

“You’re gonna drool,” you shut is jaw with a gentle hand before helping him inside.

Billy shuts the blinds behind him and wraps his arms around your waist, “You expecting me?”

“Oh, god, you would like this,” you roll your eyes and pull away.

Billy grabs your wrist and tilts his head, quizzically, “Am I not supposed to?”

“No!” You exclaim, “It’s not me! You’re not supposed to like it!”

His smile falters and his eyebrows knit together in confusion, “What’s going on?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you suddenly feel exposed and ashamed. Billy’s fingers dance under your elbow and arms. He steps closer, eyes expectant while he waits for you to answer. You’re afraid you’ll start to cry if you open your mouth, looking up at him fearful.

“Baby…” he mutters, “Talk to me.”

His voice is quiet but his eyes on you make the room seem smaller and smaller with each second.

“Am… am I different?”

“Incredibly,” he whispers, “Weirdest person I’ve met.” The smirk on his face isn’t soothing in any way.

“No… like,” you let out a shaky breath. “Do you touch other girls like you touch me?”

Confusion and anger cover his expressions, “What? I haven’t touch-“

“When you did, before me, after we did, I mean have you fucked them like me or is it different?” you interrupt him, finally relieved to get this off your chest.

Billy pauses, unsure of how to answer that question or what exactly it implied. He couldn’t help if he knew how to make women come undone for him. “What are you talking about?”

“Peggy wants to ask you to the dance. You fucked her forever ago and she’s still thinking about you. I can’t fathom the thought of you… I don’t know, Billy.”

“Hey, hey,” he sits you down the bed and gets on his knees between your legs, “it is so different for you and I.”

“You made them feel how you make me feel,” you mutter out, the tears spilling out finally.

“But I’m here with you, I stopped sleeping with other girls, babe. For you. You make me feel better than they ever could,” he says and you can’t believe the words coming from him or how easy it is for him to comfort you. “I don’t care if they still want me, you shouldn’t either. They can’t have me, but you do.”

“But Billy… they still talk about you,” you blubber, palms smearing your tears away as they coat your flushed cheeks.

He sighs then, sitting on his heels. He’s quiet for a second and then he’s taking his dagger earring off and putting it on your ear. You hadn’t even realized he took it back from you. “Have this. Wear it everyday. I know it’s not me screaming from the rooftops that we’re together but it’s what I can do for now,” he’s saying, eyes trained on hours.

The gesture is sweet and calms you down slightly. He laces his fingers in yours and squeezes, “You’re different in the best way. I promise you, it’s different. I actually like you.”

You smile, “You mean it?”

“Lemme show you,” Billy’s bunching your night gown up and his mouth is between your legs. You watch him, licking between your folds and the sensation sends shivers up your spine. Say what they will, they didn’t have Billy like you did.

His fingers snake up your nightgown and graze against your nipple, tongue focused at your opening, sliding into you. Falling onto your back, your fingers grip his curls and pull him closer.

“Billy… feels so good…” you praise, lifting your feet to the edge of the mattress.

“Tastes even better,” he pulls away to mumble and the compliment floors you, pushing his face back.

His tongue broadly licks up your slit, shaking his head to aid when the tip of his tongue is pressed at your clit. Every concern slipping away from his deliberate actions. He’s entering you with two fingers and you feel the pressure building efficiently, tearing you apart expertly.

“I’m.. I’m gonna cum,” you stutter out, thighs clenching around his face and your back arched.

Billy quickens his pace, nodding his head up and down while his fingers twist and curl inside you. When you start to pant, he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks which pushes you over the edge. “Billy!” you gasp, pulling at his hair and thrashing against his face.

“You’re mine,” he says when your faces meet again, tearing the nightie off of you.

“Mine..” you mumble out lazily, your body still on cloud nine.

“Yours,” Billy’s mouthing against your ear, peeling his shirt from his torso. You help him with his shoes and pants even though you’re suddenly exhausted. You want him to have you.

“Say it again,” you whimper, feeling his tip press against your entrance.

“I’m yours,” he says through gritted teeth as he inches inside of you.

“All mine,” you say, drunk on the passion as you wrap your legs around his waist and tug him closer.

Billy bites your bottom lip then, pushing the rest of the way and you feel him fill you up. You moan into his mouth when his fingers curl around your hip, everything falling apart around the two of you. He falters a bit, chuckling softly when he stills.

“Jesus,” he exhales, “I’m already close… give me a minute.”

It’s the highest compliment he could’ve paid you and you giggle back, “Thank you.”

“Oh, shut up,” he seethes but he’s smiling.

“You last long with them?” you tease, fingers grazing his chest and then curling around the necklace he’s always wearing. You think it’s the Virgin Mary, definitely something catholic.

Billy gently flicks your nose, looking pointedly at you, “This doesn’t typically happen, no.”

You shudder underneath him, tightening your legs around his waist. The stimulation takes his breath from his lungs and he’s pushing you down by your chest, “Give me a minute for fucks sake.”

“What if I want you to cum?” you challenge, rolling your hips against him.

“Then I will,” he keeps his palm pressed hard on your sternum. He starts moving again, pounding hard into you. Hard enough that it startles you and actually kind of hurt. You gasp and he grabs your chin roughly, tilting your head back but his eyes fierce. “But you’re gonna look at me while I do it. You look away and I won’t be happy.”

You’re curious so you tear your eyes away from his face, down to his chest. Billy’s quick to slap you, grabbing onto your jaw again and scolding you, “I fucking mean it.”

“Yes, Sir…” you pant, the carnal assault bringing a flood of arousal from you, only making the sound of his pumping into your wetness louder.

“Good girl,” he spits and it doesn’t sound like praise but like he expects this from you.

“You like when I’m a good girl?” you say through pouted lips.

Billy grits his teeth, thumb digging into your cheek. “Good girls don’t ask dumb questions,” he fumes, his hips relentless against you.

“I’m only bad for you,” you counter, your confidence in speaking is a show of how close you are to a second orgasm.

“I want you to be good right now,” he pants, holding his gaze into your eyes. You wonder if your banter is helping postpone or hastening his own climax.

“Make me be good,” you challenge and Billy’s pulling out to flip you over onto your stomach, grabbing your wrists in his hands and pinning them behind against the small of your back as he penetrates you hard.

“You little slut,” he slanders, driving his hips back and forth at a harsh pace. He’s successful shutting you up, the ferocious onslaught pushing the air from your lungs. He spanks your ass as he unloads inside of you, your own orgasm erupting in sync with him.

“Billy!” you cry out, shaking beneath him.

You both come down, breathing like you’d been holding it in for hours.

“I assure you, it was never anything like that,” he pants, eyes tightly closed.

Dress shopping was not fun. You’d dragged Eddie along for moral support but he wasn’t help at all, laughing at most ensembles you’d tried on. “You look like a cake topper.”

“That’s it,” you say, staring back at a foreign reflection. “I’m not going.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on.”

Like some saving grace, you see Billy walking into the store. You lift an eyebrow in surprise, asking what he’s doing there. Then Max walks in behind him, looking out of place just like you.

“I need a dress,” she mutters and you smile, happy that someone had asked her to the Snowball Dance.

“It’s slim Pickens,” you inform her.

“Why not this?” Billy holds up a sleek, red gown. There’s no frills to it at all and you wonder why you couldn’t find it.

“Huh, more my style than Max’s,” you counter and Billy guffaws.

“Gee, I wonder why,” he shoves the hanger in your hand.

You slip away to try the dress on and realize just what a saving grace Billy was. It was like he knew your body better than you did. The god damn thing fit you like a glove, even if it had an absurd amount of cleavage spilling out. You’d never felt sexier, staring back at the mirror. You decide to make Billy wait, changing out of the dress but holding it to your chest.

“Please tell me it’s a winner?” Eddie begs, a hopeful glint in his eye. You’d promised to visit the comic store after this.

“Billy’s omnipresent or something,” you mutter, not wanting to admit he’d picked the perfect dress for you within seconds of arriving.

Billy smirks, “Ya gonna make me wait to see it, huh?”

“Max! Let me help you find something,” you usher the redhead off, not wanting to give Billy the satisfaction.

When you glance back to see him and Eddie getting along, your heart skips a beat thinking of what could be if only he didn’t have to keep you hidden. You shove it down, watching at what Max pulls from the racks. She doesn’t seem to like anything so you counter, “I went to the Snowball dance both years in junior high. You don’t really have to wear a dress.”

“My mom wants me to pick a dress out,” she counters and you nod.

“Let’s try to find something simple, then. I’m not much of a dress girl either, but our dance has a strict dress code,” you say. After a moment of thumbing through the racks, you pull one out, just a simple green dress. “How about this?”

Max looks at it intrigued, fingertips ghosting the velvet. “I guess this could work,” she decides, grabbing it from you and heading towards Billy. She hands it to him and says, “Here.”

Billy looks over to you appreciatively, “Well that was painless.” But he snakes to snatch the dress in your hand, taking it to the counter. You protest but it’s fruitless. Billy’s paying for your dress and handing the bag to you. “I’ll see you around.”

Eddie scoffs as Billy and Max walk out of the boutique, “That guy is something else.”

“I’ll say,” you sigh, grabbing Eddie’s hand and pulling him towards the comic store.

With knuckles against your door, Steve feels anxious. You were hard to understand, pushing and pulling away from him. He couldn’t read you at all and that was part of what kept him interested. As he’s waiting outside, he catches Billy and his little step sister walking to his Camaro.

“King Steve,” he hears behind him, having turned away. Billy’s standing there, wearing a suit, hair meticulously styled and a simple stud in his ear.

“Can I help you?” Steve challenges, his hair is always perfectly sculpted, he spent an hour on it.

“No,” Billy shrugs, but before he can continue your dad opens the door.

“Hi, Dale,” Billy beams, confusing your dad, seeing two men standing in almost matching suits, the only difference in bow ties. Steve’s red to match your dress and Billy’s is a hot pink.

“Hello, Billy,” your dad greets, turning to your date and saying, “You must be Steve.”

“Billy! Let’s go!” Max calls out and Billy stifles his anger.

“Have a goodnight, Harrington,” he spits before walking back to his Camaro.

Steve extends his hand to your dad, “Nice to meet you.”

Your dad invites Steve inside, who then excuses himself in the bathroom before you walk out into the kitchen.

“Your boyfriend intimated your date,” your dad lets you know, looking amused.

“Oh, God,” you sigh, grimacing at the thought but thankfully you don’t have time to stew on it as Steve’s exiting the bathroom.

“You look amazing,” he says, out of breath as if he doesn’t see your dad standing next to you.

“So do you,” you tell him, smiling wide. Steve does look good, he usually looks pretty prim and proper but something about him in a tuxedo has you thinking about him in ways you never have.

“I’m right here,” your dad speaks up, chuckling as he does so.

Steve’s eyes widen, “Yeah! Oh, I’m sorry! It’s… sorry, I,” he grabs the corsage he’d left on the counter and presents it to you. You extend your wrist towards him with a flutter of your eyelashes, watching as he adorns the gorgeous rose.

“It’s pretty,” you note, a satisfied smile plastered on your face.

“Just like you,” Steve points out.

Your dad extends his hand to Steve, your date taking it in a firm handshake, “Take care of her.”

Steve nods, then moves towards the door. Your dad hugs you, whispering “Now that’s how a man should treat you.” before pulling away.

“Thank you,” you look into his eyes, you think he’s right but that Billy would… if he could.

The restaurant Steve takes you to is the nicest place you’ve been. It isn’t a diner at the edge of town. There’s many other kids from school here. You don’t see Billy and his date, thankfully. He never told you who he was going with but you weren’t sure if you’d hoped it was someone he hasn’t slept with or some poor sap he’d already fooled around with. You scold yourself for thinking about him in this moment. Right now was about you and your date. You were determined to have a good time. You order a glass of wine and Steve widens his eyes, perhaps impressed by your boldness. You supply your fake ID to the waiter and it’s accepted so he in turn offers Steve a glass. He accepts and you’re pleased to impress the man across from you.

“You’re something else,” Steve smiles, leaning across the table to take his hand in yours.

“I’ve heard that before,” you quip with a cocky smirk.

The food is good and the company even better. Steve is funny and charming, it would’ve been so easy for him to get in your pants if you weren’t spoken for. He’s handsome as hell too but equipped with a boyish charm that works so well. And God, you think, it would be easy to fall into something steady with him. Due to the three glasses of wine, you wonder what Steve’s like between the sheets. You imagine a slew of praises and what kind of noises he’d make with his dick in your mouth. Never in the past three years would you imagine you’d be here with the King of Hawkins High. The alcohol mixed with the the attention has you pressing Steve against his car in the parking lot, kissing him intensely and adoring the way it takes him by surprise.

“Wines the secret ingredient I needed, eh?” He mumbles when you pull away.

“You look good in a suit,” you shrug before trailing to the other side of his BMW. “Let’s go dance the night way, pretty boy.”

“No need to pull my arm,” he quips.

The high school gym looks like a sad car with a new paint job, the streamers doing little to distract you from the fact that you’re at Hawkin’s High. You immediately catch Billy’s eyes, he’s seeing you in the dress he’d bought for the first time. He’d seen it on the rack next to your mirror but he’d longed for the moment he got to see it draping to your curves. You hold Steve’s hand in yours, noticing as heads turn towards the two of you. You thought you looked so good in the dress no one was calling you a freak. But the looks were definitely because Steve brought a freak to Winter Formal and that freak looked hot.

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy mutters to Billy who is also staring at you. He’s about to mirror Tommy’s thirst but catches himself.

“Whatever,” Billy mutters, slinging an arm over Molly’s shoulder.

Cutting Crew’s “(I Just) Died In Your Arms” starts playing and you grab Steve’s hand, pulling him to the punch bowl. When you get your drink, you feel the alcohol burn your throat. Thank God it’s been spiked. This would be a long night without it.

Billy’s watching across the gym, a little taken aback but the jealousy he feels in the pit of his stomach. But it’s your fault, right? He told you to go with Steve but he didn’t tell you to enjoy it. He seethes, watching after you both down a glass of punch before strutting to the dance floor. He hates how romantic this song is, seeing you drape arms around Steve as you sway together. He’d give anything to hear what you two were whispering back and forth. He’d really love to go up and sock Steve right in the face, but that’d be to obvious. No, he’d have to play dirty. Molly’s blabbering in his ear and he regretted the entire game, seeing how carefree and fun you seemed around his arch nemesis. He grabs Molly’s clutch, digging through it for the flask he’d stashed inside, though the whiskey inside isn’t much help.

When Sweet Dreams bubbles out of the speakers, he’s dragging Molly to the dance floor making sure he’s in your eyesight. He turns her around, hands on her hips and he grinds against her bottom with his eyes trained on you. Steve’s blissfully unaware of the competition at hand, gasping in your ear when you mimic Billy and Molly. You swing your hand up to lace through the bottom of Steve’s mullet. You think about kissing Steve but it’s too early. You’d fuck with Billy later, this is what he wanted after all.

After a few songs, you excuse yourself from Steve, explaining you need a cigarette badly. You let him think it’s from arousal but truly, you need a breath of air. It’s also an invitation for Billy that he takes, stalking out after you.

“Having fun?” he sneers as he catches you lighting your smoke.

You guffaw, hearing as the song before bleeds into Don’t Dream It’s Over by Crowded House. “I’m at a school dance watching the man I love grind against some whore,” your voice is venomous.

“I’m having the time of my life too,” Billy’s heart skips when you inadvertently admit you love him but hey, time and place. “It’s not fun watching heart eyes and grabby hands.”

“You told me to go with him, motherfucker,” you seethe, but internally feigning over the jealousy he exudes.

Billy scoffs, taking a deep drag from his own smoke.

“And Molly?” you laugh, “I should’ve guessed. Oh, Billy is just so cute! He’s just so kissable. Fucking gag me with a spoon.”

Billy greets his teeth, “I have something else I’d rather gag you with.”

You laugh harshly, the alcohol really showing itself when you comeback with, “Oh please Billy! I want nothing else than for you to get off in my throat where no one can see! Our little secret.”

“Cut the sarcasm, bitch,” Billy spits, pushing you against the wall.

“The fuck is wrong with you? You have to get drunk to spend the night with Harrington?”

“Had to get drunk to deal with you tonight. Steve’s a breeze to be around,” you quip and Billy’s got his hand on your throat as a reaction.

“You like getting a rise out of me,” he reasons, frowning around the words, “You’re not a filthy slut but you sure like acting like one to get my attention.”

You look him dead in the eye, “Let go of me or I’ll scream.”

Billy gives a laugh full of discredit, pushing you further.

“Oh my god, what are you doing? Billy, stop! You’re hurting me!” You claim and when you open wide to scream his hand is forcing your mouth shut.

“I don’t like the game you’re playing,” he says, eyes wary.

You bite his hand and he pulls away.

“Tell me you love me,” you appeal, eyes trained on his. “Tell me you love me and fucking mean it, Billy.”

He closes his eyes and blows air out of his nose, like he’s dejected. “You’re such a bitch,” he mutters, eyes fluttering open again but you’re serious.

“Tell me,” you shrill, “Tell me or I’m done. I’ll go home with Ste-“

“I love you, okay!” he drops his hand from his hands from your shoulders.

You pull him close, feeling his breath against your lips, “Again.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Billy Hargrove,” you say breathlessly before pulling him into a bruising kiss.

You could feel he meant it, especially with the way he kisses you back. You leave in two days for Florida and you really couldn’t leave without the admission. You melt into him and the two of you share a beautiful moment but it’s cut short by a girl neither of you know, storming out in tears. You both retract, as if you weren’t just sharing the most important stage of your relationship.

“You should get back to Steve,” Billy says dejectedly.

“One more time,” you plead.

“I love you,” he indulges, a quick kiss.

“I love you too,” you mutter, pulling back to stumble back into the dance. Everything seems different. You don’t want to go back to Steve, you want to follow Billy to his Camaro and get a motel somewhere far.

Take my breath away you hear through the fogginess of the smoke machines, seeing Steve fiddling with his fingers at a table. This isn’t fair, you think as you collapse into the chair next to him. Steve saw Billy follow you and the flush on your face but he doesn’t tell you.

“You want me to take you home?” he asks and you nod.

“Please…”

#billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction

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laguezze · 2 years

Text

Since my first PAC was quite a success I'm here for more!

PAC Reading: Random messages from your soulmate

I'm doing this thinking of a romantic soulmate, the one and only definitive one. You know who lol.

W A R N I N G ⚠️

It's honest, it's blunt, it's me 💅

Cussing

Also, might get a bit non PG. I'm gonna try keep it PG 16+ so if you're under that age pls leave and focus on school and your dreams because that's what's important right now. Don't rush love, sweetie. It will come to you when it's meant to come to you.

Are we ready? Stacy gworls, it's going 👇

(if you get that reference you're an MVP)

Let's go!

Pile 1

Pile 2

Pile 3

PILE 1

Hey girl (that's what I channeled, don't come at me). What you doin' (imitating that one F.R.I.E.N.D.S character i don't remember the name of)

Let's listen to Bruno Mars together and dance under the moonlight on our living room.

I guess there isn't much moonlight on our living room, though.

Oh well, whatever. You get what I mean.

Listen, our life may be simple but we're not. We're complicated. You more than me, though, I'm a little dumb sometimes.

Can we get a dog? A big intimidating one, not a Chihuahua pls you know i can't stand those little freaks. They freak me out, i don't get the hype around them.

I wanna grow old with you, but stay young at the same time. I am afraid of stopping with age. I wanna do things with you forever, I want nothing to stop me. Lol that has connotations if you know what i mean *wink wink*

Anyways, babe. I love everything about you. Even when you're a grumpy h*e and cuss me out for not throwing expired cheese away.

I still believe cheese doesn't expire but i throw it away for you. Because i love you and i respect you and your weird ass stomach that can't handle expired cheese that's not actually expires because cheese overall does not expire ever.

AnywAYS i will stop trying to pick a fight over cheese.

I love you. 3000, 3001, 3002, 3003...

Ok I'll stop

I'll see you soon when i get home.

Your one and only local dumbass.

I love your person skdjdjdjjd they are hilarious I'm ded.

PILE 2

Wassup, bestie. One word: YoLo

(what is wrong with your person, they seem to like teasing you with weird slang skdjdjjd love that)

Moving on, can we like... Talk? You've been so distant lately and it hurts me to realize how far away we are from each other both psychically and mentally.

I don't get why we can't just love each other, it's so unfair.

I love you too much to handle, and I will be there every step of the way. I don't care if you're not successful right now, you will be soon and I'll be there with a sign that says: YOU DID IT! screaming your name.

You are my best friend and my lover simultaneously but you also are my family.

I simply can't live without you.

Please don't give up on me, or your dreams, or anything. Just do not give up.

I love you, ok?

Thanks for being in my life.

Random but i got: spicy tamale, spicy chicken, chicken tenders, 22, LGBTQ community, church

PILE 3

Hey love,

I don't have much to say, you know who i am. Even if you don't know me yet, i am there in your subconscious, letting you know that i exist, letting you know that i acknowledge your existence and can't bare this time in separation.

But worry not, as our souls will find each other. Maybe not soon, but trust that they will. We are meant to be together, always and forever.

You say i remind you of your childhood crush, you say I'm like Edward Cullen and i act like i hate it but i don't. The fact that i resemble something you love so dearly makes me feel important, as if I've been there with you forever.

Plus, vampires are sexy creatures.

I'm glad we don't know each other yet here in the real world. I cannot believe what a mess i am right now. But I'll straighten up for you, dear. I always do.

Stop overthinking and worrying. You'll do great at that function. You always do great and it pains me to see you so nervous. I'll be there in spirit sending you flowers and love. Always with you, no matter what.

I love you, sweetheart. You and your small, little hands.

DANG Y'ALL, WE GETTIN THAT BELLA SWAN ERA WITH THIS PERSON. (I picked this one)

THE END

Hope it resonated!!

#tarot readings #free readings #tarot #tarot blog #free tarot reading #pick a card #tarot pick a pile #free tarot readings #tarot pick a card #pac #tarot pac #soulmate pac #soulmates #soulmate #soulmate pick a card #soulmate tarot #soulmate pick a pile

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justasupportunit · 3 months

Text

Not Just Yet (Ryoji Mochizuki x Oc)

OC KISS WEEK!!! I missed two days so I kinda combined three.

Day 1) Almost (with a hint of Day 2 and 3 (Rain and Sunrise set))

TW: Attempted/Implied Su1c1de, mentions of death throughout. (If there's any more please let me know so I can add them!

Notes: The OC isn't named here, but their name is Lucian, this is kinda for a fic I'm writing about them!

This is it, you thought to yourself. Your feet staggered on the edge as you looked to the sky. You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. Why now.. Why now were you afraid of death’s kiss?

You had no answer for yourself as you watched the sun begin to dim behind the horizon. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to go now.’ were the very words you wrote and left for someone to find. But where was it you wanted to go? You didn’t know. You swear you could feel someone watching you as you painfully let out a laugh. “W-why don’t I know…?” you stuttered. You haven’t even taken your shoes off yet, just the act of doing so scared you. It would push you further to something you were now doubting. You looked down at the ground, almost feeling faint looking at it. How did you not realize until now how high up you were? It felt like the whole world's eyes were on you, like death itself was waiting for you to do something– anything.

You pictured your friends' faces. Mitsuru and Akihiko would definitely stop you right now, and maybe that was for the best. But.. they have their whole lives ahead of them… I.. I barely even know if I’ll have tomorrow. When all your days blur together… when time seems to drag on for eternity as well as all too fast, is that living? You didn’t know. Maybe there was something you could do to change it, maybe you could trust Akihiko and Mitsuru to help? Maybe… maybe you shouldn’t do this now..

You clenched your fists and hit your thigh with one. You couldn’t stand this hesitation you were now facing. But, you might be right, maybe now's not the time, maybe you can give it another day, see how things go. You wanted to scream. You were here again with no clue what to do, the feeling you dreaded the most, the feeling that made you want death's embrace in the first place.

You don’t know why you even fell.

You didn’t scream as you did, you just looked at the sky. The sunset… Has never looked so beautiful… You wished you could be there to see every beautiful sunset, every sunrise that would now never come, every starry sky that fascinated you to no end. Falling… really doesn’t feel fast… huh..

You saw something yellow appear in your vision, something that looked like a scarf. Weird. Then a ghostly hand grabbed your own. Before you knew it, you were falling with another. They smiled at you, their black hair flowing in the wind. For some reason, you felt relief in seeing them. Was this death?

Your whole world began to dissipate, being swallowed by a void of rain. You watched as the sky disappeared, leaving you alone with death. You looked down, the ground hadn’t disappeared yet, and you were steadily approaching it. You felt your muscles tense as you prepared for impact, until you felt a hand redirect your gaze. Death forced you to look at it, before closing it’s eyes, bringing it’s lips close to yours. You felt your eyes grow heavy, shutting them shortly after.

Yet, you weren’t falling when you re-opened them.

“Hey sleepyhead~ Gonna get up?” you heard a voice call out to you. You looked around the unfamiliar terrain until you spotted a lanky guy with a yellow scarf, black hair and piercing blue eyes looking back at you.

“W-who’re… who’re you?” you asked, your voice feeling almost foreign to yourself.

“Oh me? I’m… Ryoji.. Do you not remember me?” he asked. You shook your head causing him to pout. “Daw… well it’s okay! I’ve been watching you for quite some time now.. So let’s get up, yeah? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

My… my life? Y-yeah… yeah. That’s right… my whole life…

You reached for Ryoji, only for him to partially disappear when you tried. “H-huh?”

“Oh.. sorry.. I’m kinda.. Not fully here. But don’t worry! I can still help you! Just.. picture me as your imaginary companion! Here to always protect you.” Ryoji flashed a smile towards you. “Now, let’s find a way out of here… so we can see that sunset again, yeah?”

#oc kiss week #ryoji mochizuki #persona 3 ryoji #persona 3 ryoji x reader #fanfiction #oc x canon #persona 3 fanfic #ockiss24

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lunagojo · 2 years

Text

Anime Boys When They Get Jealous / Protective (Part 2)

a/n: since everyone loved the first one I figured I might as well do another one! With more boys! Hope you all enjoy <3

Featuring: Mondo Oowada, Kento Nanami, Shoto Todoroki, Eijirou Kirishima, Sanemi Shinazugawa

notes: fem!reader, all characters aged up, some swearing

Mondo Oowada

So...um...

Mondo's like, FIERCELY protective of you

Even if someone looks at you a certain way he's going to get mad and make sure that someone knows

He's similar to Katsuki in the sense that he'll rapidly approach whoever's talking to you and tell them off, especially if he sees them getting flirty / touchy

If they're being inappropriate he'll knock their lights out

He tries his best not to lose his temper around you (he doesn't wanna scare you) but he has a hard time when it comes to situations like this

He constantly worries about you leaving, he always has felt that you could do better than a 'delinquent' like him

It's why he gets so protective of you ;u;

Nanami Kento

Nanami's a civilized, mature gentleman, we all know this

10000/10 boyfriend, trusts you fully and utterly, is not typically one to get jealous of anyone you're talking to

You're in a committed relationship with him, why should he worry?

However.

If you're clearly uncomfortable with the person you're speaking to (they just don't get the not-so-subtle hints you've been giving that you're taken), Kento will definitely come to your rescue

"I believe Y/N just said she wasn't interested in you."

"Who're you?"

"I'm her partner. Now please leave her alone."

Since he's so straight to the point and deadpan about it, the person immediately leaves, Nanami doesn't have to ask twice

He'll ask you afterward if you're okay and then won't leave your side for a while <3

Shoto Todoroki

(;n; i love him he deserves to smile all the time)

He probably won't get it at first, tbh

He'll just assume you're having a friendly conversation with someone and leave it at that

But, he feels something weird growing in his chest, and he can't help but wish it was him you were talking to instead

He asks Midoriya about it and when he's told that he's jealous, he feels bad

He trusts you, of course. But he hates that he feels this way

Later on he'll kinda be sulky around you until you ask him what's wrong

He'll admit to how he felt and apologize deeply for it, begging for you to forgive him (umm, of course you do? Shoto there's nothing wrong with it)

If you wrap your arms around him and hold him, he'll feel much better (pls do so)

Eijirou Kirishima

(screaming crying i love this gif he's so precious im--)

Another one who kind of refuses to get jealous

He doesn't think it's manly to do so, you should have utmost faith in your relationship

Which he does, of course

BUT

Kinda like Shoto, he can't help but feel a little pang every time he sees you talking with someone

Especially if that someone is being flirty (*cough cough* MONOMA)

He doesn't wanna get involved usually because what if he's overreacting? He doesn't wanna embarrass you or make a scene

He will get involved if you're clearly uncomfortable, though, and tell the person to back off

He will cling to you a bit tighter when you're alone later, though

If you ask him what's bugging him he'll admit it, straight up

Please reassure him that you don't want anyone but him <3 He trusts you completely but he does like to hear it ;w;

Sanemi Shinazugawa

SO.

Him. Yeah.

Pray for whoever tries to flirt with you because they are gonna get their ass BEAT

Sanemi doesn't fuck around when it comes to the person he loves

He's lost so goddamn much in his life and he'll die before he loses you

Does he overreact sometimes? Maybe, but he does have good intentions

"That asshole was clearly flirting with you, Y/N!"

"...He was asking me for directions, Nemi."

"Yeah, okay. Sure."

It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just constantly worries (like Mondo) that you could do so much better than him

Though he would never ever admit it

He is so, so protective of you, no matter what

#thank you for all the love on the first one! hope you enjoy!#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #mondo oowada x reader #mondo oowada #bnha x reader #bnha #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #eijirou kirishima #eijirou kirishima x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #kny #kny x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 10 months

Note

Helloool!! I reeeeallyyy love your work <3

Here’s a request I’d love to read,

Marilyn and student!reader are super close, r had some mh issues at the beginning and relied on Marilyn and Marilyn loved that r trusted her. After reader’s mh got better, a few years later, they’re still as close as ever. Reader’s friends think it’s really weird and not ok but every teacher and adult thinks that they’re so cute, like a mother and daughter. But it’s much more than that. R secretly has the smallest crush on Marilyn, and Marilyn is, secretly, obsessed and in love with r. R obviously thinks the feelings aren’t reciprocated, but she doesn’t understand why Marilyn gets so mad when r talks more with other people i.e. with Larissa. How Marilyn tells r she shouldn’t hang out w her friends, how she shows the smallest and subtlest signs of being in love with r.

And how the story could continue and how their relationship could get more intimate, I trust you completely to decide that!!!

I’m sorry if this was confusing, I tried to make it as clear as possible.

Take your time <3!

Yesss!!! Here it is!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes :))))

Make a wish, just for me

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem, Student! Reader

Warnings: mental heath issues, hurt & comfort, possessive Marilyn, manipulative Marilyn, fluff

Word count: 4,394

Summary: You have a very close relationship with Marilyn, of course you don’t want it to be jus a friendship…

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

“Come on, guys, don't disperse, everyone to the bus…” One of the teachers said, gesturing for you to get on.

You looked at the school bus and started to shake, shaking your head. It wasn't normal to react like this to something as simple as a bus, but you had reasons for it. When you were 14 years old, your parents took you to a friend's birthday party. It was night and there was fog.

As soon as you got out of the car, the blaring sound of a horn preceded a horrible noise of bending metal and breaking glass. The police said that the bus had problems with the brakes, that they could not do anything. That was no comfort to you. Your parents died and you saw it all.

Such a trauma was not good for you. You had an enormous amount of problems after that terrible event. Your lonely and violent behavior in high school forced your aunt, who cared for you without much enthusiasm, to take you to a different school, to Nevermore. You think she sent you there to get rid of you

It wasn't a bad change, although the visions and night terrors and panic attacks kept you from leading a completely normal life.

Students your age already had permission to spend Saturdays at Jericho, but what you didn't know was that you would have to go by bus.

“Miss (Y/N), we are waiting for you,” your fencing teacher said, making an impatient gesture with his hands.

“I… I…” You stammered, backing up when you heard the engine start. Another teacher got out of the vehicle, looking at you strangely.

It was Marilyn Thornhill, she had just joined Nevermore and mysteriously, she was the one who always had to take care of you. She seemed like she was some kind of hazing. She was beautiful, kind, understanding, the best of all the teachers you had. Even thanks to her, you began to be interested in botany.

“(Y/N)?” She asked. “Are you ok?”

“N…No…. I…”

Before you could finish your awkward babbling, the vehicle's horn blared, making you relive that traumatic experience. You screamed in fright, noticing how your hands trembled and you began to see blurry things.

“Oh dammit, can't we just leave you guys alone?” The coach asked, angrily getting on the bus.

“(Y/N), you're pale,” the redhead said, placing a hand on your forehead. “My God, you're freezing...”

You shook your head, looking everywhere, looking for the killer bus that would appear somewhere to finish what started 4 years ago.

“No! No! No!” You screamed, fleeing the place, terrified, completely out of control.

You ran to the main school building and took cover in a corner, your eyes almost bulging. Realizing that it had only been a panic attack, you leaned against the stone wall, letting yourself fall to the ground, bursting into tears and drawing your knees to your chest.

You heard footsteps approaching, but you ignored them.

“(Y/N)… You're here…” Marilyn said, panting. She surely she had followed you. “Honey, what's going on?” She said softly, crouching down in front of you.

You looked up, embarrassed. In the background you saw the bus leave the school and you began to feel better.

“I, I didn't want to get on the bus…” You whispered, wiping away your tears. Marilyn looked at you surprised, but with a tender smile she sat next to you against the wall.

“Why? Oh, of course you don't have to tell me if you don't want to,” she asked you, gently rubbing your back.

You sighed and stretched out your legs, going blank for a moment. There was no one with whom you trusted enough to talk about your past, but that tone of voice, that empathetic attitude made you rethink many things.

“My… My parents died…” You whispered, with an almost inaudible tone. Marilyn nodded for you to continue without interrupting. “A bus collided with their car... I was in front and... And...” You stammered, crying again, inconsolable.

The redhead hugged you immediately, letting your head rest on her chest. You clung to her clothes, desperate, crying like you never did, letting off steam completely.

“Calm down, honey... It's okay... Everything is fine... Calm down... Everything's over... The bus has already left...” She whispered to you with a reassuring, almost sedative voice.

“Don't you think I'm crazy?” You asked, feeling very comfortable in her arms.

“Of course not, honey,” she told you, moving away a bit and cupping your face with her hands. “I'm very sorry for what happened to you, you had to suffer a lot, right?”

You nodded, unable to stop the tears from bubbling out of your eyes.

“Shh… Don't cry anymore…” She said, passing her finger over your cheeks, wiping away your tears. “I'm so sorry you had to go through something so terrible...”

You didn't respond, as if it were a reflex, you returned to rest your head on her chest, praying for her arms to surround you again and to be able to feel safe as just two minutes ago.

“I couldn't forget it, I'm not able to get on a bus... I have nightmares... That bus haunts me in my dreams...” You opened up about your problems. She let you talk while still cradling you in her arms. “Please, no, don't force me to get on that bus, please…” You asked desperately.

Marilyn shook her head, thoughtful.

“Calm down, (Y/N), I'm not going to do it…” She told you, kissing your hair affectionately. “I have an idea,” she said, moving away a bit so you could look into her eyes. “Can you get in a car?”

You thought about it for a moment, but you agreed. You could bear that.

“Great, I'll take you to Jericho in my car, what do you think? You sure don't want to miss spending the day with your friends, right?”

It was a good idea, the best idea. Marilyn helped you up and she calmly led you across the schoolyard to her little beetle.

“Ms. Thornhill…” You said, now calmer, looking out the window.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for… For helping me…” You sighed.

“There is no need to, (Y/N). Thank you for trusting me,” she answered you while she was driving. “Oh, by the way, call me Marilyn.”

After that day, things in Nevermore changed a lot for you. Your relationship with the teacher became much closer, much more like a tender, sincere friendship. Little by little you began to stay in the conservatory, helping Marilyn to water the plants and talking to her about your problems.

As a curious fluke, the nightmares and the seizure lessened over time. Psychiatrists always told you that you had to talk about it, that you had to face it, but it seemed to you that no one would want to listen to the complaints and traumas of an adolescent. Nobody until Marilyn arrived. She always attended to all your worries, she always gave you advice, she understood you. She told you that she also lost her family. A very deep connection between you began to form, finding that you both had things in common, a traumatic past and the desire to overcome it.

“Let's see…” The redhead told you, picking up a small pot on the table. You looked at her expectantly. You had planted that seed a few days ago and it was time to check that it was growing, that it could become a beautiful flower.

Marilyn carefully stirred the moist soil in the pot, watching closely. A wide smile warned you that there was good news.

“Look, (Y/N), the seed has germinated,” she told you happily, indicating that you should come closer. You did it excited, seeing how a small green stem was distinguishable among the soil. You smiled happy for having managed to make a life to live thanks to you. It was wonderful, but it wasn't the only thing that made your heart beat faster and faster.

As the days, weeks, and months passed, that admiration and gratitude for the redhead dangerously transformed into something you wished you didn't feel. The nightmares had ended, but not by themselves, little by little they were replaced by recurring dreams, dreams in which Marilyn was the protagonist. You didn't want to feel it, you wanted to ignore the love you felt. You imagined that it was only about affection, some kind of affective lack that you had to fill with her. No, you couldn't fool yourself. You were crazy about her.

Naturally the idea of your dreams coming true was unthinkable, completely impossible. You didn't even tell your friends, they would laugh at you, you were sure.

“It's incredible…” You sighed, looking askance at the woman you loved without limits, who would be your downfall, and from whom you didn't want to separate. “I didn't think I could do it.”

“It seems you were wrong, (Y/N), it's going to be a beautiful lily, the most beautiful of all,”she told you, smiling tenderly.

You both stared at each other, as if you had suddenly gone completely blank. Her gloved hand brushed over yours gently and it looked like she was going to tell you something, something important, but she couldn't.

“Hey, (Y/N), we've been looking for you all afternoon,” one of your friends said, entering the conservatory without knocking. “Hello, Miss Thornhill.”

“Hi Becca. Excuse (Y/N), I have entertained her, my fault,” she said, amused, taking her hand away from yours immediately. The girl nodded, smiling politely.

“We are waiting for you to come to the lake, Michael has finally brought the board,” your friend explained to you.

You looked at the redhead, as if you were asking her permission to leave, although you really didn't feel like doing it.

“Go, (Y/N), have fun,” she told you, nodding. Her face was kind, calm, but her eyes had a strange, melancholic, sad shine.

“Well… I'm coming, I'm coming,” you said, taking off your gloves. “See you tomorrow Miss... Marilyn.” You said timidly, being grabbed by your partner's arm.

“Do you call Miss Thornhill by her first name?” Becca asked, as you walked towards the lake. You looked at her, a little blushed, and nodded.

“Well, yes…”

“And why is that?” She kept asking, with a slightly mocking tone.

“Well... We... We get along well, I guess,” you said in a whisper, finding yourself a little uncomfortable with that conversation. Your friend frowned and laughed in amusement.

“You've been spending a lot of time with her lately, you didn't even come to Roger's birthday party,” she told you, with a certain reproachful tone. You freaked out a bit. You didn't want anyone to suspect how you felt about Marilyn.

“What do you mean?” You asked, slowing down.

“What do you think I mean?” She teased, winking at you.

“Um…. I…” You stammered, seriously thinking about running out of there.

“It was a joke, (Y/N)…” She told you, frowning even more. “I'm not suggesting anything weird, I'm just asking why Miss Thornhill is suddenly more important than us.”

“It's not more important, Becca,” you answered, not wanting to leave room for doubts. “I just feel good with her, she's nice.”

“Whatever you say, (Y/N), but it's still weird and not only I believe it, we all think so. You two are very… close.”

“I still don't see the problem,” you said, crossing your arms, a little annoyed. Becca looked at you and shrugged.

“Well, then you're blind, (Y/N), stop and think about it for a moment and you'll see how right I am.”

You didn't want to talk about it anymore. You didn't see anything unusual. It was all a normal, affective teacher-student relationship. You didn't know exactly why she was saying it. You doubted that she thought there could be something between you and her, that's the last thing anyone with common sense would think. Maybe it was because Marilyn was a normie, someone some of your friends say shouldn't be there.

The days went by. Your friend's words were still in your mind, and you thought about it every time you went to see Marilyn and the precious lily that grew day after day. As much as you thought about what might seem strange to your friends, you couldn't find it. You couldn't understand those words, you didn't see anything weird, nothing wrong. You were happy with her and she smiled whenever she saw you appear. You weren't going to give it up.

The day of your 18th birthday has arrived. That same night you found a surprise party in your room. You were happy for having managed to make so many friends, but at the same time you looked at them with resentment for daring to judge your healthy and friendly relationship with Marilyn. You couldn't help but hate them a little for speaking without knowing, for thinking that it was something strange, that it wasn't normal, that there was something dark or hidden in the innocent afternoons you spent with her.

In the morning, still exhausted from that night of partying, you went for a walk around the school. You needed to clear your head, stop spinning your head around Becca's comments and the subtle innuendos from the rest of your classmates.

You leaned against the stone railing, peering out into the quad, where life went on as usual. You rested your head on your hand and sighed.

“Weird…” You whispered to yourself.

You almost had a heart attack when you noticed two gentle hands gently grabbing your waist. You turned in fright to see Marilyn behind you.

“You weren't thinking of telling me, (Y/N)?” She asked ironically.

You blinked scared that she might mean your friends' disgusting comments.

“Um… I…” You said, running a hand over the back of your neck.

“I had to look at your file to see that today is your birthday, happy birthday!” She told you happily, giving you a tender hug.

“Tha, thanks,” you said blushing from the contact. She smiled and caressed your cheek. It was a brief gesture, she immediately removed her hand.

“Come with me, I have a surprise for you,” she told you, grabbing your wrist.

You were excited, expectant. You walked the corridors of Nevermore with her, until you reached a corridor you had never been in, the corridor where the teachers lived.

“Come in, please,” she told you kindly, opening the door.

Timidly you entered the small and old room. It was full of flowers, just as you expected.

“Sit down,” she told you, pointing to her bed. You obeyed and noticed how your legs began to shake.

She went to her desk and lit a candle that was stuck in a piece of cake. It was amazing, you didn't know how she could know, but it was your favorite cake.

“Here, (Y/N), make a wish,” she told you, offering you the plate.

You closed your eyes. You were very clear about what you wanted more than anything "I want a kiss from you." You blew out the candle and the redhead clapped excitedly, going back to her desk and picking up a box.

“Take it, this is for you. I didn't know what to get you, but I saw this in a shop window and thought you'd look gorgeous on it.”

You left the plate on the bed and you took that surprise gift. You were so excited you didn't even bother to hide your fledgling blush. You undid the red ribbons that covered the package and opened the box, taking out a beautiful dress. It wasn't very elegant, but it was pretty, the prettiest you'd ever seen. It would look great with the Converse you used to wear, it was like she read your mind.

“Do you like it?” She asked, looking at your surprised and with a stunned face.

“I love it, it's beautiful… I, I don't know what to say,” you said, touching the soft fabric.

“Try it on, I want to see how it looks on you,” she told you, pointing to the bathroom door.

You nodded profusely and ran off with the token in hand.

You looked in the mirror already with the dress on. It fit you perfectly. It was the first time that you saw yourself as a pretty girl, without complexes. You left the bathroom and Marilyn was waiting for you expectantly, sitting on the bed.

“Look at you, (Y/N), you look beautiful, impressive,” she told you while you turned around, wearing your new clothes in a fun way. “You are the most beautiful girl of Nevermore.”

You were so red you didn't know how she didn't notice. She looked at you with an admiration that made you think many things, that made you turn on a light in your head, that made you feel very close to your dreams.

“Thank you… It looks great on me… thank you very much Marilyn,” you said, a little excited. You leaned down and hugged her tight as she laughed at your reaction. You separated and again you stayed looking into each other's eyes. She cleared her throat and shifted a bit, pointing to the bed for you to sit next to her.

Suddenly, as if some evil entity landed in your brain, Becca's words came back to your mind, the taunts of your classmates. You bit your lip, a little nervous and played with your feet. Marilyn noticed your change in attitude.

“Honey, what's wrong? Don't you like it?” She asked, putting an arm around your shoulders. You shook your head, with a lost look.

“It's not that… It's just…” You said timidly.

“What, sweetie?”

“My friends… My friends think it's weird that I spend so much time with you,” you said bluntly, causing her to raise her eyebrows, confused.

“What? Why?”

“I don't know, they say it's rare for us to get along... Calling you by your name...” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Do you think so?” She asked, somehow worried. You immediately shook your head.

“Of course not.”

“I don't understand why they say that. Sometimes she had the impression that they don't like you being with me. I just confirmed it,” she told you sighing.

“But why?” You asked the air.

“I don't know honey. It seems that they want you to not be happy... You are happy by my side, right?”

-“Of, of course I am,” you said, without thinking carefully about those words. If you had listened to them correctly you would be crying with joy.

“So they don't want you to be happy, (Y/N)… You should spend less time with them. They don't do you good, honey,” she told you, rubbing your back.

“But they are my friends,” you said surprised.

“I doubt they think the same, (Y/N). They don't understand you like I do... I want you to be happy...”

After that curious conversation, things continued as usual, except for one small detail. You no longer spent time with your friends, you ignored them. You preferred spending entire afternoons with Marilyn, even a few nights. Gradually your friends started ignoring you and looking at you strangely. You didn't care at all. The gestures of affection and caresses increased a lot since that day.

It was another Saturday. The only day that you did spend with your friends. No one told you anything, they just accepted your decisions. You didn't even want to spend the day with them.

You waited for a long time by Marilyn's car, but she didn't show up. You waited 5, 10, 20, 40 minutes, but there was no sign of the redhead. You were going to ask her to spend the day with her, and you started to get nervous. Some heels behind you startled you.

“(Y/N)…” Principal Weems said, with her usual elegant smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for Miss Thornhill to take me to Jericho, have you seen her?” You asked politely.

“Marilyn? Yes, I think she was in the conservatory, she seemed very busy,” she answered you smiling.

“Oh, fine, I'll wait,” you said, nodding.

“Oh, it's not necessary, (Y/N). I'm going to Jericho right now, let me take you,” she offered, taking the minivan keys out of her bag.

“Thanks but…” You said. Of course you didn't want to.

“I insist,” she told you, without giving you a chance to reply.

You got into her car, resigned, looking back in case you spotted the redhead somewhere. The sadness was present on your face.

“You are wearing a beautiful dress, (Y/N),” Larissa told you, breaking the tense silence. You looked at yourself and sighed.

“Thank you, Principal Weems.”

“I'm glad you get along so well with Marilyn, (Y/N). She is a good woman, and she is not valued enough in Nevermore,” she commented, causing more blush on your cheeks.

“Well… She has helped me a lot with my… problems…�� You whispered, embarrassed.

“You two are very close. I love the relationship you have, like mother and daughter, right?”

You swallowed an expletive, but nodded smiling as best you could. That wasn't the kind of relationship you wanted, far from it.

Upon reaching the town, the sky unloaded its anger, causing large raindrops to fall to the ground. Larissa clumsily pulled out an umbrella and covered you with it, pointing at the Weathervane.

“Come on, (Y/N), to the cafeteria,” she told you, putting a hand on your back. The two of you entered the bar agitated.

“Have you gotten wet a lot?” She asked in a maternal tone. You shook your head. You weren't there. You were wondering where Marilyn was. “Come, I'm going to buy you a hot chocolate.”

Unable to escape from that situation, you sat at a table next to her. Of course she must feel sorry for you, since she was aware of all your horrible experiences.

“Thank you,” You said when they served you the chocolate. It was hot and it comforted you a bit. Through the window you only saw the raindrops that fell furiously on the ground. The chances of Marilyn showing up were getting slimmer.

You were about to pick up your phone to ask your friends where they were, when a drenched Marilyn burst into the cafeteria.

Larissa turned and waved politely at the redhead, who moved closer to her, looking at you with strange eyes.

“Marilyn, you've been caught in the rain from what I see,” Larissa said with her amused courtesy. Marilyn faked a smile, pointing to herself.

“I could hardly see the road,” she said, breathing hard.

Larissa glanced at her watch and slapped her hands on the table.

“You suit me very well, do you mind staying with (Y/N)? I don't want her to fool around by going out with that terrible rain.”

She nodded as Larissa rose, waving goodbye to you. When she left the cafeteria, her face hardened, sitting up almost angrily.

“Hi… Marilyn,” you said, your cheeks red again.

“Hello, (Y/N),” she said dryly, almost without looking directly at you. You knew right away that something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, leaving the cup of chocolate on the table. She sighed mockingly…she was upset, very upset about something.

“I've been waiting for you, (Y/N). You were not by the car,” she told you. There was not an ounce of sympathy in her eyes. You started to get even more nervous.

“I was waiting for you, but, but you didn't come and Larissa...”

“Of course, I should have imagined it, you preferred to come here with her,” she told you, accusing you of something you didn't know. You had to clear it up anyway.

“No, is not that. She saw me waiting for you and offered to take me,” you explained, feeling a familiar sting in your throat and an incipient moisture in your eyes.

“She offered to take you…” She repeated, indignant. “Tell me, (Y/N), what am I to you?”

You shook your head, not understanding anything.

“No, I don't understand…” You sobbed.

“Yes, you understand. I thought you liked being with me, spending time with me. I thought you had fun listening to songs and singing them with me in the car.”

“I, I like to do that…” You said nervously, unable to hold back your tears.

“Well, it doesn't seem like it. One day I take longer than usual and you change me for the first one that pass by,” she told you, harshly.

“No, that's not it... Really...” You said desperately. “I… I…”

“You what?” She asked mercilessly.

“I love you!” You screamed. Fortunately there were no people in the cafeteria. Marilyn's eyes widened but she didn't say anything, just opened her mouth, confused, blinking rapidly.

You didn't know where to go. The rain was intense but it was much better than explaining the meaning of your words, it was much better than accepting the truth. You took off running, feeling the familiar sensation of an incipient panic attack.

The rain soaked that dress, but so did your tears. You didn't know where you were going, but you knew you didn't have to stop running. You almost got hit by a car, you collided with several people, but you didn't stop in your cowardly escape.

You couldn't take it anymore, your forces failed you. You didn't know where you were, but you no longer saw houses or paved streets. You screamed heartbreakingly seeing your world collapse in a second.

“(Y/N)!” A voice shouted through the rain. Marilyn. You tried to run away again but she was faster, grabbing your wrist hard.

“Please, leave me alone, I want to be alone,” You said pulling your arm, trying to get out of her grip.

She pulled even harder, drawing you into her quickly. You couldn't react and you didn't want to. Marilyn kissed you on the lips. She kissed you passionately, desperately. The rain fell on you while your arms ran around her back, bringing her even closer to your body while the kisses did not stop.

“I'm crazy about you, (Y/N), and I haven't been nice to you… I just, I was just jealous and…”

You shut her up with more wild kisses. You could hardly breathe thinking that your wish was finally coming true. You would never underestimate a birthday wish again.

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #wednesday #ms thornhill #oneshot

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