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#just gotta wait a week :'D
buff-muffin · 4 months
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Post Marineford spoilers nerds
You guys ever think about how in that small recovery arc after marineford that Luffy was still wearing the same shorts from the battle? Like, Law and the others could have lent him some clothes. Or idfk an old jump suit. Like. I know the pants were red but they would probably be black with the amount of blood that must of soaked those fuckers. His blood, Ace’s, Jimbe’s and the amount of corpses that must have been on the floor.
Do you think they still smelled of smoke, gun powder and blood? Do you think they made Luffy’s flashbacks worse? Do you think seeing his blood soaked yellow vest triggered him? What do you think happened to that outfit? He wasn’t wearing it when he returned to marineford. Maybe he burned it. Like stripping himself of that layer of himself or shedding his skin. Maybe it’s at the bottom of the ocean. A scar he could never rid of not forgotten but buried.
Idk man I’m just snowballing :)
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triona-tribblescore · 5 months
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TRIONA TRIONA TRIONA…..how are you?
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HIII ADDI :D
Im okay, so so incredibly busy at the minute, its the last week of college finals at the minute and im struggling a liiiittleee bit to juggle all the projects with work and stuff so art and tumblr has taken a wee back burner at the minute
Hopefully ill be able to get back to the usual shenanigans later this week uvu 🤍✨
How are you??
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IM STARTING TESTOSTERONE YIPPEE YIPPEE
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vanibear · 11 months
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HOLY COW I JUST GOT MY IPAD TO WORK QUESTION MARK ?? AMD ITS CHARGING NORMALLY NOW ???
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helianskies · 2 years
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app. translation coursework - ✅
spanish writing exam - ✅
italian translation exam - ✅
latam. movements coursework - ✅
italian writing/grammar exam - ✅
spanish translation exam - ✅
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starseers · 2 years
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Me just trying to finish up work:
The 30+ new followers out of nowhere: 👁️👄👁️
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sanchoyo · 2 years
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general lil life update!! trying to refill my queue the past 2 or 3 days so it actually seems like I'm Online, despite still kinda bein on an Internet Hiatus in general lately. but! I felt very productive today out of nowhere and was able to clean, journal, work out and cook a bit after like 2 weeks of not being able to do much bc Sick (which, I need to go to the dr about, but have been piddling on for a few reasons...) so that random burst of energy felt super nice! also its rainy out so that def is a mood booster. my dog and I sat on the porch and just enjoyed the rain together this morning and that was super sweet 🥺 I just took him and my journal and a blanket and we cuddled and I wrote down a couple recipes and stuff <3 I ended up starting a new journal thats different from my regular one that I treat as a diary and. I realize carrying 3-4 notebooks everywhere is EXCESSIVE probably, but also, it's SO FUN. I'm really grateful to be able to have journaling as my low-effort creative outlet lately while I haven't been able to draw or write much ;w;
hope u guys are doin okay too!
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orcelito · 2 years
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sooooo Fang got to see the Oracle. and uh. he sure did learn a lot!
honestly my mind is still Reeling. it was so fucking cool lmfao. short version, his dad was the leader of this group that got cast out from the feywilds for uh stealing this magic feather thing?? which these have been mentioned before, belonging to Old God(s?). anyways they were all cursed & have been working to master the void magic they were cursed with (at least i think that’s the curse? lmao who knows) to uh destroy the feywilds i guess?? his dad in the vision told the fey queen he wanted to destroy her land at least so uh That’s smth lmao 
THE KICKER of this all. is that What Do You Know his dad is STILL ALIVE hundreds of years later (when shifters are only supposed to live until like 70!!!). and how does he do this?? by fucking Destroying His Heirs to i guess suck their life force back into him or some shit. some real sketchy dark magic here lmao. and What Do You Know! Fang is the current heir! Whoops! his mom knew what his fate was gonna be and decided to run, even knowing it’d mean her death. and so now here Fang is with the knowledge that this group Definitely wants him back, but they dont want him for assimilation, they want him to Keep Their Leader Alive. bc APPARENTLY. if Fang Lives, His Father Dies. 
"I've never met him" "You will. And when that time comes, you will have either mastered the void or it will consume you." SO he’s gotta master his void magic or else he’s gonna go kapoot when he finally meets his dad so like THAT’S some fun shit lmfao. very much answered his original question of ‘is it safe for me to use my magic?’ turns out it’s a REQUIREMENT if he doesnt wanna super die lmao. love that for him. 
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breadbrobin · 1 year
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GOD i want to listen to christmas music SO BAD but i CANT bc it’s not DECEMBER YET and that’s a CRIME FUCK—
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whaddayadothatfor · 11 months
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Ctenizidae
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…
Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel
WC: ~1k
AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.
MDNI
“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.
Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.
Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.
This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:
“Miguel, I think I should—“
“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“
“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”
“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”
You see how frustrating this man is?
So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.
“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”
“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.
You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”
He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.
“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”
You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.
Later
“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.
“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”
“Seriously—“
“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”
“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.
“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”
You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.
“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“
The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.
First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.
With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.
It is you.
And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.
Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.
He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.
His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.
“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”
His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.
“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.
“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.
He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.
He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
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hoshigray · 1 year
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Now look here, it's sugardaddy! x sugar baby! reader time >>:3 So here's the rundown: the reader is a college senior who works part-time in a diner and finds out that their favorite customer, Toji, is a sugar daddy and wants to initiate courtship. Although it is a proposition you fail to see yourself saying no to, is this something you can see yourself being in the long run?
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A/n: This prompt was picked on a poll to celebrate getting over 50 followers, only for me to get to 100 right after!!?? Y'all...can I give you a hug? ;w; No, oh okay. Anyways, I won't make another poll, BUT I'll be opening thirsts/requests soon!! >:D I just gotta make myself a disclaimer list before we let those lil fantasies of yours fly, lol. But yeah, this is my first time posting a fic over 1k+, so I hope y'all like it. Also, bonus: there's art drawn by Moi (@hoshigaby)?? You'll have to scroll down to find it tho :33 Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead and read!!!
Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - implied age gap (the reader is in their early 20s, Toji's around early or mid-30s) - mating press - cervix fucking - oral (fem! receiving) - pussy drunk Toji - breeding - daddy kink - overstimulation (fem! receiving) - pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin', good girl, honey, kid/kiddo, mama, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit) - reader isn't a virgin but, it's the first time you and Toji have sex.
Wc: 4.9k
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"Oh look, your favorite is here."
10 o'clock, it's closing time. All the servers and bussers are ready to buss down tables and sweep the floors, hosts at the front split up tips and head straight home, and the cooks clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. All there's left is the silence of the dining area, where not a single customer is in sight.
Well, minus the one Utahime points out to you.
You turn to the bar area, where almost all the tables are empty, and all the high-rise televisions are turned off. All but for one, which was showing a football game.
A man is watching the screen, sitting in a booth at the far end with a glass of beer on the table. He's wearing a black turtleneck covered with a denim jacket, white fur on the collar, and a silver chain contrasting the black clothing. You gaze downwards to his black jeans pants, where his left foot seems to be tapping the ground. He's waiting for someone.
Once his eyes catch your approaching figure, his deadpanned face shows a smile in recognition. He was waiting for you.
And you smile back as you walk towards him.
The familiarity with this man comes from a year working at the diner. His name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's been a regular even before you started working here. And to make things funnier, he was the first customer you served after a week and a half of training. You can recall when you accidentally put milk and sugar in his specifically requested black coffee, to which you apologized profusely ("Heh, it's alright, darlin'" He flashed a smile that was meant to reassure you. "The first time that's ever happened to me.").
It was there that you found yourself being the only person that's served him. At first, you thought of it as some sort of joke after the coffee mishap, but now, unless you're there to take his order, he'll only have a beer or black coffee with all the other servers. The crew often pokes fun at you, stating you're the older man's favorite. And you gotta admit, it makes your heart swoon knowing this is true.
"There she is," Toji watches you approach him with his foot finally stopped tapping the checkered floor beneath him. "My adorable lil' server."
You giggle as you sit on the cushioned booth seat across from him. "It's good to see you, Mr. Fushiguro. I hope life's been good for you." You wave goodbye to the guy behind the bar counter, who turns off the TV still on as Toji focuses on something else. You promised to be the last person to turn off the lights and lock the doors before leaving, so now it's just you and Toji.
"I thought I told you to drop the Mr. Fushiguro, kid." He reprimands you with his playful smile, the right corner of his lip quirking his scar upward. "And I could ask you the same thing. How's college goin', darlin'?"
An exaggerated sigh leaves your system. "It's going alright. Can't believe I'm about to be done after the next semester, but the senioritis hasn't hit me too strong yet, thank God. And I can't wait to graduate with all this debt on my back~!" You flash the fakest beaming smile with two thumbs up.
Toji chuckles at your fraud enthusiasm. "Mmmm, I bet. But I know you're smarter than me and most people who work for me, so I'm sure you'll do just fine."
"Yeah, I'd like to think so, too." Your chipper attitude dwindles, and Toji notices the change in tone.
"What's up? You don't think you'll get yourself a job?"
"Umm, well," You cough to clear your throat from awkwardness. "I tried signing up for plenty of internships. Some of them shut me down, others just haven't replied back. And I guess it's just me overthinking, but I worry that I won't get a job in something I like..."
"Aww, princess," Toji rises from his cushioned spot to move to your side, sitting close to you with his big jean-covered thigh brushing yours. He places a hand on your back to rub comforting circles. "That's just the thoughts in your head."
You groan into your hands. "I know, that's why I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it so much... But it's okay! I know I'll be fine because I still have this job keeping me going for a year."
Toji raises a brow. "You wanna be a server all your life? Wanna serve me my black coffee and BLT sandwich til my last breath?"
You hit his chest in amusement. "Well, no, but if it comes down to it, I don't mind. I'll just take up more jobs or maybe make a side hustle. Either way, I know Mei Mei will help me out. I'm sure everyone here will if they have the chance."
"I could also help you."
Your hands instantly go up defensively. "No, Mr. Fushiguro, I wouldn't want that! I'm sure you're pretty busy, and I don't want my troubles to burden you."
Toji's eyebrows knit together, his sharp eyes surveying your defensive stance. "It wouldn't be trouble if I'm the one offerin' to help you, honey."
"Yes, but even so..." You look at your lap as your fingers dance with each other to ease your anxiousness. "It would feel unbefitting to have a customer — a valuable one such as you — to help me with my financial problems. Seeing you smile at me when I serve you your coffee...I'm perfectly content with just."
Your gaze locks into your fidgety fingers, saying the last part was probably unnecessary. Yet it was true; Toji had always been patient with you whenever he stopped by, even going the extra mile by giving you a seriously generous tip after his meals. You know you didn't deserve it, but he's already at the door before you can argue with him. If his gracious action was just a mere small percent of what he could do, then he's done plenty for you than needed.
Toji, however, didn't see it that way. He hums as he leans back onto the booth seat, his hand now snaking to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the nook of your neck and trapezius.
"Well," He breaks the silence, you're listening. "What if we take this outside of customer service?"
The brows are pulled together as you turn to him in slight confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
"I've been thinking for quite a while," with his hand maneuvering to rest on your shoulder, he sighs and straightens himself up. "Your manager, Mei Mei, right? I talked with her not too long ago, telling her how much of a hard worker you are and how even while still in school and suffering with assignments, you still smile and make sure the customers enjoy their time here."
You give him a thanks, and he continues on. "Which is why I told her about what I wanna do. So here's my proposition: I'll pay for everything for you. Your debt, bills, clothes, whatever it is your pretty lil' head is worryin' 'bout."
Toji's promise does sound comforting to the ears, but you think about your part in all this. "So, do I have to work for you?"
He chuckles. "No, baby, not working fr' me. But there is something I want you to do."
"Yes?"
Toji doesn't give you a clear answer, staring at your face with a soft smile. You wonder why he's being odd until his face leans forward, and the hand on your shoulder pushes you into a kiss. You let out a yelp into his mouth, but the shock diminishes once you succumb to his warm, intoxicating lips. He tastes like beer, definitely from his drink.
He removes his lips from you, and you faintly exhale in an unsteady breath. "Mmmm, yer too much fr' me, sweetie." Toji groans and kisses down your neck while you place a hand on his chest to grip his turtleneck for support before you dissolve into his arms. And although you shouldn't be at your work at this time of night doing this, it felt too good to end.
"I want you to be with me," Toji says in-between smooches on your neck, moving to paint the other side with his pecks. "You're so good to me, darlin', always being such a good girl." He nibbles on your clavicle, and a soft gasp rewards his eardrums. "Lemme take care of you, y/n."
All that's going through your head is the feeling of his lips on your body and the arousing throbbing sense happening in your nether core.
"Hmm, whaddya say, baby?" His lips are too close to your ear as he playfully bites the lobe. Your thighs rub against one another, and you know there's a wet spot in your panties. "Gonna be my perfect girl?"
If you don't give him an answer quick, you're bound to melt right on this seat, and being a whimpering mess to his touch is embarrassing enough.
"Haaaah...Y-yes," You finally answer in weak whispers, mind spinning and eyes glossy. "I wanna—Ahaaa...I wanna be yours."
You can feel Toji's lips curl into a smile. He lifts his head to look at you, and a hand comes up to cup your face before he gives you a soft kiss on your quivering lips.
"My good girl."
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
A few months have passed since you and Toji formed this new relationship. And getting used to certain things is still a challenge.
For one: covering up your new lifestyle is never easy when you're out with people you know. During winter break, you went to dinner with your friends and offered to pay for the whole table. They looked at you as if you were talking nonsense ("Girl, where the hell you get that kind of money to be covering for all of us?" "For real, is this the same diner you've been working at? Are they hiring?").
Another thing that wasn't easy to get accustomed to was Toji spoiling you. Since you're a college student, Toji only sees you every other weekend when he has time. During those days, Toji doesn't hold back in showering you with gifts and affection. Between the fancy dates in expensive restaurants, riding rides at fun amusement parks, or the bags of new clothes you bring back to your dorm, it was something you didn't expect to happen so quickly. Your roommates constantly tease you about this "mystery man" who makes it known you're his special lady.
But outside of that, the most significant change was you and Toji. To say you two got closer was too easy to put into words. Sure, the money was there, so you could finally get a good night's rest without worrying too much about your school debt or bills. However, you knew this went beyond the dollar bills and the fancy clothes.
Come to find out, Toji knows and remembers things that amaze you. There was a time he bought you a whole wardrobe worth of dresses because he remembered you had to cancel dates with your friends since you had nothing cute to wear. Or the time he got you a box of your favorite teas, even though you briefly mentioned them to him during a talk way back from recollection.
And even away from the materialistic things, you can feel how much Toji loves you. You can feel it in his eyes whenever he's looking at you. You can feel it when you try to argue yourself out of trying an outfit you don't think will be good on you, but Toji coaxes you into it because he knows — not thinks, knows you'll look good wearing it. You can feel it in his hands when they hold yours, when he places a hand on your thigh and rubs it in loving warmth, or when he caresses your cheek when he kisses you goodbye when you two have to return to your own lives.
It's a type of love you didn't see yourself being on the other end of. The more immersed you are, the harder it is to imagine yourself out of it.
Spring break is now upon us, and Toji has invited you to join him overseas for a business trip. You tried to decline, saying it's his trip and you don't want to intrude on his business. That argument was immediately shut down ("Tch, believe me, sweetheart, you're saving me from bashing someone's head in if you're close to me than not. Plus, I wanna see you wear that cute swimsuit I got you."), so he dragged you on his private jet, and now we're here.
During the day is when he's away for work, so you spend the morning either in the penthouse suite you two are staying in, outside taking pictures to show Toji later or looking around at the little shops nearby. Toji is done with work around the early afternoon, so you two spend time together exploring the country, trying new foods, and taking walks around the area while talking about how your day went until the sun goes down.
Everything goes well until Thursday when Toji texts you saying something happened at work and that he'd be at the suite later than usual. Well, it's 7:45, the sun is starting to go down, and Toji is still nowhere in sight. I hope everything is alright on his end.
You're unsure about going outside for a walk on the off-chance you stay out too late. And if something happens to you while Toji isn't close by, that'll give him more to worry about on his plate, and you definitely don't want that for him.
So, you look around the penthouse to see if there's anything to keep you occupied until Toji's return, and then what catches your eye is the swimming pool outside on the terrace which you haven't tried yet. That'll do!
You go to change into a swimsuit, a cute two-piece that Toji bought for you when you two went shopping together. After a quick shower, you enter the pool and enjoy the calm waters while watching the sunset, leaving a beautiful array of colors painting the sky over you.
Tomorrow is your last day here while Toji will do business, and then you're back to school on Monday. The fact that you'll be graduating debt free still blows your mind. Toji really fulfilled his promise and took care of your worries.
Is that to say that your relationship ends once you touch that diploma?
You lift your feet and lay on your back to allow the water to hold you up, ears covered in the water and face looking into the sky as you're lost in your thoughts.
It wouldn't be too far off if Toji wanted to close this whole thing off when you graduate, as the point was for you to not worry about debt and such. That much you understood from the very beginning. But what happens after that? Do you two just go back to being acquaintances that only meet at the diner? And what about the stuff he got you? Do they stay with you forever? And do you have to fight memories of him every time you see them?
What about all the touches, all the hand-holding, all the cuddles, and all the kisses? Are they supposed to mean nothing to you the next time you see his face?
You're thankful for the water keeping you afloat in the pool, but having these thoughts attack your brain just makes you want to sink in loathing.
Until you feel something tickle your feet, having your body react in a state of panic. No longer floating on your back, you search for whatever is torturing your feet. Only to find Toji in front of you wearing black trunks, he chuckles lowly, and your heart sinks in embarrassment.
"T-Toji," You swim up to greet him. "How long were you back from work?"
"For about 10 minutes," He watches you move through the water, following you to sit in the shallow part of the pool for you two to talk. "I saw you in the pool and thought I'd join. I tried callin' out to ya, but the water was blocking your ears."
"Hehe, sorry about that. I was thinking about something. How was work?"
His face went into a deep scowl with rolled eyes, and you giggle at his nonverbal response. "Had I not known I was comin' back here to see you, I'd probably fucked that rookie up."
"That bad?"
He hums and brings you closer to him with his hand on your shoulder. "But don't worry 'bout it. And you? What were you thinking about?"
"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing," your encouraging response is fictitious.
Toji lowers a brow. "Try again."
"No, honest! It was nothing, Toji."
"Don't make me tickle you again, kiddo." You freeze and look at his face. His sharp gaze and slight grin speak for themselves about his seriousness.
A sigh is withdraw from your lips. "I was just thinking about how I'd be leaving on Saturday and being halfway done with my senior year of college."
"And?"
"And, uhh," You gulp and avert your eyes to your lap, your fingers swaying with the pool water. "I was also thinking about me... and you?"
There's silence, the lack of response eating you alive. Then you feel Toji's hand grip your shoulder.
"Are you scared I won't be with you after you graduate?"
He hit the nail because you don't answer for a few seconds. Your eyes still avoid him.
But Toji still persists. "Do you not want to be with me?"
Your head turns to face him in haste, taking you aback at how fast you were. "No! I don't want this to end. I'm grateful for how close you and I have become. I want... I want..." You fall silent once more as your head moves back to your lap as if you'd find the words you want to express lying there.
Using his free hand, Toji grabs your chin to look his way again. "What do you want, baby? Use your words fr' me."
The intense gaze of his jade-green eyes captures your attention, practically daring you to look away from him. The warmth of your cheeks spreads around your face, and you gulp before answering.
"I really appreciate all that you've done for me. And I...I really like you, Toji. I want to be with you." His face doesn't change as you ramble on, causing you to move your eyes to avoid the awkward stare. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to stop with where we—"
Your sentence was interrupted by Toji's kiss, and a squeak was suppressed between the two lips. You exhale in bliss as your hands find purchase on his solid chest. He deepens the kiss when his hand is posted at the back of your neck.
You break the kiss to breathe, Toji's gruff chuckles fills the warm air.
"You're too adorable, princess. Do you really think I'd want to let my precious girl away from my sight?" You open your mouth to interject, but Toji lifts your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Listen here, darlin'. I didn't offer to take care of your debt on a whim. I adore the fuckin' shit out of you, and I was gonna wait til your graduation to ask if you'd still want this thing to be official."
"But now that I hear you're interested," his big hand holds yours, fingers intertwined as his thumb brushes your forefinger. "Are ya up for it?"
You breathe slowly to ease your heart, beating at an irregular tempo. You grip his hand in return and offer a sheepish smile.
"Yes. I'd like that very much, Toji."
He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good girl." Toji has his arms placed behind your back and under your legs. Then he stands up while picking up your figure bridal style. He grins hard when you squeal in surprise as your arms sling around his neck.
"Let's shower," he walks out of the pool and into the suite. "And then afterward, I'll show you how much I've been itchin' to make you be my girl for real."
The heat on your face grows tenfold, and Toji barks a laugh when you hide your face. You can only mentally pray for yourself for what's to come.
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
That little prayer did absolutely nothing!
Now you're lying on the bed nude and wet from the shower as the water droplets on your body slide down to the satin sheets beneath you. Your hands cover your mouth, trying to suppress the moans and sobs from exiting your lips.
And the cause of this is the man currently nestled between your legs. You can see the raven hair between your inner thighs, but you feel a wet muscle lapping around your vulva. The lewd noises of Toji eating you out fill the room and has you writhing in discomfort, and you try to slowly move your lower region away from his ravaging mouth.
"Aht aht, you're not goin' anywhere, mama." Toji's rough hands grip your waist and pull you back down, his nose brushing your clit as you jerk upwards. He lifts his head to look at you, and the image of your slick smeared all over his mouth and chin almost makes you faint.
"Put those hands down, baby. Let Daddy hear that sweet voice of yours." He uses one hand to play with your pussy, middle and forefinger abuse your inner lips as his thumb grinds down on your sweet bud. Your eyes shoot up for the stars, and you're forced to do what he says, hands gripping the sheets while your cries are out for him to hear.
"Aahhhh!! Haaah, T-Toji!! 'S too much, too—Ooohh!" His tongue returns between your cunt, licking and tasting the sticky fluid coating your pussy. Your eyes are watering, your mind starts to feel dizzy, and your legs can't stay still to save your life. He's been doing this for 15 minutes!!
You clutch his hair and wail out his name in pleasure, earning a moan from Toji as his grip on your thighs gets tighter.
He can tell you're close to finishing, so he helps you. His tongue slides from your wet center to your clitoris, licking and sucking on the extremely sensitive bud, his teeth lightly pressing down on the pearl.
Your release comes instantly, and your walls spasm as you cry in pure euphoria. Your head pushed deep into the pillow below you, letting your body finish reacting to the climax. However, Toji doesn't wait for you when his mouth drinks your essence. His tongue attacked your sore velvety walls, having you gasp for air.
When he's done, he finally withdraws from between your legs and kneels before you, taking in your disheveled figure. Your tear-stricken face and hooded eyes peer up at him as he wipes his face of your excess come, licking the rest from the back of his hand.
Toji snickers hoarsely. "Sorry, sweetheart, you tasted so fuckin' good I couldn't help myself. Besides," you watch his hands trail down to his dick as he places himself on your messy vagina. "Gotta get you prepped up fr' me."
He puts a pillow under your lower back to raise your hips more. Seeing his dick for the first time has you in mental turmoil. Toji notices you looking and sneers, pulling your hips to him so his balls practically kiss your opening, his dick on full display on your lower abdomen. The girth alone has your cunt pulsating in anticipation, and good God, the length of that thing. It's not the first dick you've seen in your life, but it's definitely the biggest challenge you've come across.
I hope those 15 minutes of prep were enough.
You come back to your senses when you feel the tip of his hefty member circling the corners of your folds, and your slick aids him as a lubricant.
"Ready, babygirl?" You exhale a nervous breath and nod for confirmation. "Okay, we're gonna start real slow."
Toji began to push the tip in, your folds being spread open to accommodate the foreign object intruding into your tight hole. You close your eyes and hold your breath, the pain worsening by the second. You take one breath, and Toji pushes further. With another breath, he goes further. Another-
A giant gasp takes over you as the tip of Toji's cock enters you. And Toji takes his time pushing himself further into you, using every fiber of his being not to rut into your tight walls off the jump.
"Haaah, hmmm, oh fuck," That's easier said than done with you gripping onto him like your life depended on it. Once he's pushed his whole cock into you, your words come out as a babbling mess, gripping his arms for support. He looks down at your disarranged self, chuckling at such a wonderful sight. "You look really fuckin' sexy layin' under me, baby."
"God...Toji," Tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the pain down south. "'S too muuu-ch, too big for—Hnnngh!!" A sudden thrust of the hips has you biting down on your bottom lip.
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"C'mon now, I thought I told you about that. I already let it slide once or twice." Toji places your legs on his shoulders and leans close to you, his body weight adding onto yours as the base of his cock grinds into your sex. "What's my new name, mama?"
"Ah!! I'm sorry, Daddy." The title comes through sobs.
Toji grins from ear to ear, wiping your tears with his calloused fingers. "Good girl," he kisses your forehead as you adjust to his girthy length. "So fuckin' pretty fr' Daddy." He takes your lips with his soft ones before moving his hips in a slow yet rough rhythm.
The mating press has your body submit to him, taking in his cock as it sinks deep into your swollen core. And it only gets worse when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spots accurately. At this rate, you're bound to cum earlier than necessary.
Then you feel his tip abruptly touch your cervix, and the wail you let out is picked up by Toji's ears. "Oh? Think I found what I was lookin' for." His hips grind deep in you, his tip abusing your poor cervix to the point you speak in tongues. "Feelin' good, princess?"
"Fuck, Daddyyyy, please, I'm-Ahaaah, Ohhh!" His irrational pace has your brain turning to mush, his cock bullying your insides. The sound of his balls slapping against your squelching folds has you squeezing him harder. "I'm gonna cu-cumm!!"
Toji hisses into your ear, the tone of his voice dominating your senses. "Oooooh, don't grip on me like that, sweetie. Gonna end up — Mmmph! Shit, shit, shit, shit...Gonna give you a baby."
You reach to cup his face through watery eyes glazed in a haze. "Please, Daddy, I want it," You know you're talking nonsense, but why care when you're feeling this fucking good. "Inside, I want it, inside!"
"Heh, be careful with what you wish for, mama." He kisses you again as his hips become erratic, and he moves a hand to your clit and pinches it, whining into your mouth when you're cunt clutches onto him one final time.
You cum around his cock and push your head back on the pillows, your gushy walls spasming around his length, prompting Toji to cum inside you after a few more thrusts. You two moan into each other's mouths, riding each other's high until your bodies calm down.
The two of you pant heavily once the kiss is broken apart, and his deep emerald orbs take in your dazed expression. He smiles when he notices drool on the side of your mouth, using a thumb to wipe it off for you.
"My sweet darlin'," Toji kisses your cheek and sighs deeply into your embrace. "You're too good fr' me, baby."
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
"Did I say that I want your babies?"
You're resting with Toji, your head relaxed on his chest as you sit between his legs. The television in the bedroom plays an episode of a sitcom, anything for you two to look at and enjoy a moment of peace together.
He snickers at your question, his chest rising and falling as you lay on him feels nice. "Yeah, you kinda did."
"Wow, that sex must've screwed something up in my head."
"Yeah, my dick had you wanting to risk it all." He snorts when you playfully hit his arm. "Don't worry, we can find some plan b in the morning."
Turning to face Toji, still watching TV, you furrow your brows. "We? What about work?"
"I have tomorrow off. It's your last day, and I don't feel like going back to work, or else I'll be sour all fuckin day. Much rather spend it with you than with some morons."
You look at Toji for a little longer before you smile and kiss his cheek, catching the older man off guard as you nestle into his warm body. "Thank you, Toji. For everything."
The thanks carry a deeper meaning. Not a single ounce of doubt clouds your mind now that you've gotten the closure you wanted. Thinking about how your life brought you to this moment, you're happy with your decision to pursue this relationship and more. And it's thanks to this man for making it possible.
Toji still stares at you before he scoffs and kisses your temple.
"No problem, kiddo."
4K notes · View notes
writingstoraes · 10 months
Text
the other side 🥡
pairing: charles leclerc/fem!horner!reader
type: instagram imagine, social media au
notes: this was actually a request but it somehow got lost in my inbox so im so sorry to whoever requested this 😭 i hope you still see this though and i hope u like it! lmk what u guys think hehehe
about: fans adore your support for ferrari, given your dad is literally their rival's team principal.
ynhorner
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liked by therealgerihalliwell, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 1,201,294 others
ynhorner had the best view at monaco 🏎️
(ps. i hope my dad isn't using his instagram right now)
christianhorner I have no words....
ynhorner see u at home 😘
redgirlz LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY
maxverstappen ??? Hello
ynhorner hi, max :)
daylightcharles if years ago you told me christian horner's own daughter would be openly supporting ferrari i would have laughed in your face
hamilecs not charles liking this 😭
sainzlines QUEEN DO U PLAN ON WATCHING SOMEDAY AT FERRARI'S GARAGE 🎤🎤
ynhorner i would if i'd still be my dad's daughter afterwards
ynhorner
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liked by christianhorner, landonorris, pierregasly, and 1,028,248 others
ynhorner i may scream "forza ferrari sempre" during race weekends, but i am my dad's daughter still 🫡
therealgerihalliwell There we go, Dad was waiting for you to wear that 😊
ilpredestinato she is me and i am her (i too, would support ferrari to hell and back)
lovesgasly my ferrari queen ❤️
britcedesbros LOVE THE JACKET drop the link pls 🙏
ynhorner dad brought it home after seeing me check out another ferrari cap 😆
ynhorner recently added to her instagram story!
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ynhorner
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liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, therealgerihalliwell, and 1,019,294 others
ynhorner clearing my gallery so enjoy this race week’s dump! life's good when i'm not torn between two teams; i can bust my lungs out to "super max" and forza ferrari my way every sunday ❤️
queensland mother pls tell me that man is just an uber driver
charlierari That's literally Charles 😭 loverslane reaching we can't even see the face???
paddockgirlie MAM IS THAT CHARLES PLS SPEAK INTO THE MIC
ynhorner i think my lawyer says i'd rather not say anything 😅
maxverstappen Glad to know "Super Max" is on your playlist
ynhorner are you kidding? i play that when i drive so i can get to where i'm going faster christianhorner Your karting races are not an excuse for you to overtake whenever you want, Y/N ynhorner it's okay i'm driving a ferrari anyway :D
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ynhorner
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liked by therealgerihalliwell, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 1,503,994 others
ynhorner okay maybe there's another reason why i love ferrari, but it's really not my fault they signed someone so breathtaking and loveable to be their driver 🤷‍♀️
merchamilton someone check up on christian quick
sainzzzzham Y/N IS UR DAD OKAY 😭
ynhorner oh don't worry about him, i'm sure he'll be fine!
charles_leclerc Saw the sign today, apparently that's why you sent me out to buy red poster board?
ynhorner yes, gotta stick to my ferrari girl agenda
paddocklovez MY NEW PARENTS ❤️
maxverstappen Finally, growing tired of hiding Charles when he visits the garage 😐
christianhorner So you were in on this? maxverstappen For legal reasons, I will be blocking you.
------------
tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant (lmk if anyone else wants to be part of my taglist!)
notes: tysm for reading <3
2K notes · View notes
m00nh1gh · 3 months
Text
CALL D
Felix x reader
He can't even bother looking at you because of those stupid video games.
Contains: Thigh riding, degradation, reader is desperate and Felix doesn't give her attention, fingering.
Word count: 1.1k.
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It had been at least a week since you'd been intimate with Felix and it frustrated you.
He was always sitting in front of his computer, playing some random game with Seungmin and Jeongin because there was this "championship" going on and they had to participate, of course.
At first, it was alright with you. You liked watching him play and his reactions when something happened in the game never failed to make you laugh in adoration. But, now you were just excited for him to stop playing and to give you the attention you craved.
You had just come out of the bathroom to try and satisfy yourself alone, but it hadn't worked, so now you were even more frustrated than before. That's why you stormed into your shared bedroom with only his shirt on and you silently walked over to him.
"Lixie," you called his name in a teasing manner as you placed your hands on his shoulders which immediately relaxed to your touch.
"Need anything?" He asked, not taking his eyes off his game. He was fighting some monsters and you did not want to understand what was going on inside the screen.
"Need you," you pouted as if he could see you, your hands sliding down his biceps and he told his friends he would mute his mic a few seconds, making you smile in victory. However, he didn't turn to look at you even once.
"Can it wait after my game? It's pretty important.
- It's been important since last week," you complained, clearly not agreeing to his request.
Felix sighed and tapped his thigh, an invitation for you to sit on it. You happily took the opportunity and sat comfortably on one of his thighs, moving a little to make sure he knew you weren't wearing anything under the shirt you had thrown on.
"Use my thigh if you're that desperate, but don't disturb me," he warned and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before he turned his mic back on.
It disappointed you how unfazed he seemed by you, but you still knew it was because he was way too concentrated on his championship. At least, now you had him with you and only knowing he let you have his thigh to use for your own pleasure made you roll your hips against him.
Now that you were sitting on him and riding his thigh, you realized how good it felt when he would flex his thigh because of something sudden that would happen in his game. Whenever he was surprised, all of his body would tense up and it provided more pleasure to your pussy that started leaving a wet spot on Felix's gray sweatpants.
"Lix," you whined against his neck before nibbling on the skin. He grunted as he spammed a button on his keyboard and you whined a little more when you grinded up his thigh and it felt just right against your clit
"Wait, no, I gotta help you guys," Felix seemed to be insisting on something with his friends and you felt his throat vibrating against your lips. Even when he wasn't talking to you, his voice turned you on even more and you put your hands on his shoulder, lightly squeezing as you picked up your pace.
"You sure?" Silence. "Alright, alright. I'Il come back later,” Felix turned his mic off as well as he took his headphones off. He seemed to have paused his game because he finally rolled the chair back a little, making you look back at him and stop in your movements.
"Go on, I never told you to stop. Do what you wanted to do," his stare was hard on you, but now that you had him looking at you, you didn't hesitate to rub yourself on him even harder than before, moaning his name out as his hands slid up your shirt to pinch your nipples. You whined in pleasurable pain, squeezing your own thighs against him and feeling something familiar when you'd be close to orgasming.
“You were in too much need to wait for me, huh? Can't control yourself for a few more hours like a good girl," he commented, watching as your eyes squeezed shut. His hands trailed down your waist and stopped at your hips, forcing you to stop grinding on him.
"You got two choices, baby. Either I let you come on my thigh or you do it on my dick. Sluts like you don't get to come twice," his voice was way deeper than usual, it made you feel warm.
"You better hurry up and choose, or I'll do it for you," he harshly guided your hips against his thigh as he flexed it, making you whimper and squeeze him again.
"Wait, no, I'll cum," you said, already feeling you were close and you needed his dick so badly.
“Yeah? You'll cum just like the needy bitch you are? With my thigh? What would happen if I did this?" He gently pushed your back against his desk and waited for a reaction from you as he brought his fingers to your clit and lightly rubbed circles on it. His fingers were like feathers against your sensitive skin, but it was enough to make you shake and almost go over the edge.
"Please, no, need your dick," you were on the verge of crying out of frustration, Felix was the best at overly teasing you and as much as you usually loved it, you hated him for it right now.
“And if I did that, then?" It was easy for his fingers to enter you. You were so wet that a bit of the inside of your thighs were covered in it too. He only had to curl his fingers up to find your g-spot and that's when you clenched around him, moaning excessively loud as your orgasm hit you hard.
"Fuck, no," you sobbed as he kept fingering you through your orgasm, a shit-eating smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“That's what you deserve for interrupting my game with my friends.
- Please, 'm sorry," your thighs closed around his hand and he pulled his fingers out of you before picking you up and throwing you on the bed.
He was fast at taking your and his shirt off, as well as taking one of your boobs in his mouth. Your back arched and he softly bit on your nipple, his hand finding its way back to your pussy and brushing against your clit again, making your body shake in overstimulation.
“You're lucky you got me horny as fuck,” pulling away from your boob made a popping sound and he took the rest of his clothes off.
456 notes · View notes
leahwllmsn · 6 months
Text
16,904 | leah williamson x reader
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so this was something I wrote a few years ago and I decided to change it into a leah fic cause I've been so obsessed :-)
hope you like it!
--
Melbourne
October, 2023
You finally tell your friends that you’ve been talking to someone you met online on a Friday night. The response you got is that they all think you're crazy, and you can’t blame them—saying that you have a tiny crush on this blonde who’s almost twice your height and likes football and country music without actually knowing if this said blonde exists is kind of crazy.
But you really do like talking to Leah and you could only hope that Leah is Leah and not some fifty-year-old man. 
“You don’t even know what she looks like,” one of your friends snorts. 
“It’s not always about the looks,” you argue.
“That’s true,” another one of your friends chimed in. “But you gotta admit, the looks matter a lot.”
You were about to correct her and say no, they do not, because yeah, sure, Leah is so freaking gorgeous based on the pictures on her profile, but what matters the most is that she’s so kind, and funny, and just overall amazing.
Instead you kept your mouth shut. A part of you don’t want to share Leah with anyone just yet. 
(And another part of you still needs the confirmation that that is actually Leah because god damn it Leah is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and you wish that it’s really her.)
6 Oct, 9:02 pm
y/n: I told my friends about you. they think it’s weird that I’m starting something with you when we’ve never met  
y/n: it’s not weird, is it? 
leahw6: starting something huh? ;) 
y/n: shut up 
y/n: we met on tinder. what were you expecting to find? a math tutor? 
leahw6: ...  
leahw6: you’re really funny, love
leahw6: and no, it’s not weird 
y/n: good 
y/n: and for the record, even if they think it’s weird I couldn’t care less 
6 Oct, 9:25 pm
leahw6: just to be clear 
leahw6: ‘starting something’ that means you want to date me right 
y/n: how else could I mean that 
leahw6: idk maybe you were the one looking for a math tutor 
— 
London
October, 2023
“Where did you meet her again?”
“Tinder.”
“Tinder,” Lia repeats.
“Yes,” Leah nods. “When we were in Australia for the World Cup… I got bored one night and decided to go on Tinder.”
“And you found her there,” Lia muses, sipping on her cup of coffee. “Wait, so she lives in Australia?”
“Melbourne, yes.”
“And does she know you’re all the way here in London?”
Leah hesitates before answering. “No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Oh boy,” Lia gives her a sympathetic look. “Does she know who you are?”
“Me… as in Leah?” Leah gives her teammate a confused look. “Yeah?”
“You as in you’re Leah Williamson.”
“Oh,” realization sunk in Leah’s face. “Then no. I mentioned I like football and she said she hates it. So, I doubt she knows who I am.”
“Oh boy.”
“I know,” Leah drops her head on the table. “I’ll tell her soon but what if it’s a deal breaker?” 
“Which part? The part where you’re a famous footballer or you live thousands of kilometers away?”
Leah grimaces “Distance problem. She already said she hates football and wouldn’t dare step foot in a football game, but it’s fine! That’s not a problem because I can and will convince her to watch one of my games.”
Lia laughs. “Sure, buddy.”
“I really like her,” Leah continues. “She’s funny and witty and passive aggressive sometimes but it’s so endearing. She has great taste in music, great taste in movies and books, and just great taste overall—”
Leah’s words get cut off with Lia’s hand on her mouth. “You’ve known her for a few weeks and this is already how you act?” Lia chuckles, taking her hand away. “You got it bad, Williamson.”
Leah groans. “I know.”
“Just tell her now. If she likes you the same way, I have a feeling that she wouldn’t mind either.”
24 Oct, 4:13 pm
leahw6: can we talk ?
y/n: sounds serious 
leahw6: kind of 
y/n: are you getting tired of me already :( 
leahw6: ofc not 
y/n: oh okay :D 
leahw6: idk how to say this 
y/n: do you want me to call you? 
leahw6: oh god no 
leahw6: omg wait 
leahw6: I didn’t mean that in a bad way I swear  
leahw6: it’s just that if you call me I’ll be hearing your voice for the first time and I’ll be even more nervous  
leahw6: and I don’t think I’ll be able to put out a coherent sentence bc I’ve been imagining so much what your voice would sound like with that face and all my guesses are that you have an extremely hot voice, raspy maybe?  
leahw6: but actually no I don’t think you have a raspy voice 
leahw6: a deep one maybe and holy shit a deep voice with an australian accent? I’ll faint on the spot I’m afraid  
leahw6: no you can’t call me 
y/n: okay...? 
leahw6: I’m really sorry please ignore all that 
y/n: I won’t ignore it, it’s adorable  
leahw6: you think I’m weird don’t you 
y/n: absolutely 
leahw6: great 
y/n: it just makes me like you even more
leahw6: I live in london 
y/n: as in the one in england … ? 
leahw6: is there another london I don’t know about 
[incoming call from y/n]
leahw6: why are you calling me ?! 
leahw6: I told you I’m too nervous rn 
y/n: I don’t get it. it says that you were 2km away? 
leahw6: yeah… I was on vacation… kind of...
y/n: kind of?
y/n: so you don’t actually live here? 
leahw6: y/n if I was only 2 km away from you I would make up excuses just so I can see you everyday 
y/n: how many km is it instead 
leahw6: between us?
leahw6: google says it’s 16,904 km
y/n: ??! holy shit 
leahw6: I know 
leahw6: look, I get it if you want to stop this. not everyone is cut out for long distance
y/n: we’re like
y/n: on opposite sides of the world
leahw6: I know
y/n: do you want to stop this? 
leahw6: I don’t 
y/n: then we won’t 
leahw6: are you sure 
y/n: let me call you 
leahw6: NO 
y/n: leah
leahw6: give me a day to prepare 
y/n: you’re so dumb
y/n: but fine 
y/n: do I at least get a facetime
leahw6: FACETIME? 
leahw6: no. you get a phone call. voice only
y/n: r u catfishing 
y/n: I knew it you’re too beautiful to be real 
leahw6: ha ha 
y/n: call me tomorrow okay lee? 
leahw6: okay
leahw6: and y/n
leahw6:  thank you
y/n: what for
leahw6: for giving us a chance
y/n: leah I’d be stupid not to 
Melbourne
November, 2023
You're in the middle of a meeting with boring, old men in suits when your phone rings—very loudly at that. You curse yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, quickly pressing the red circle on the screen, but not before smiling at the caller ID.
When the meeting finishes an hour later, you immediately pick up your phone and dial Leah’s number.
“Hey you.” 
You smile at the voice on the other end. “Sorry I couldn’t pick up. I was in a meeting.”
“Oh sorry, bad timing. Thought you were finished for the day”
“Bad timing indeed,” you chuckle. “It rang really loudly.”
“Y/n,” you could hear Leah’s soft giggles. “The silent feature exists for a reason.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you take a seat in your office chair and sigh contently. “I’m glad it rang though.”
“How so?” 
“I saw your name and my mood instantly picked up.”
Leah snorts. “You’re such a sweet talker, mate.” 
You throw her head back in laughter. “But it’s true!”
Leah doesn’t say anything after that, all you could hear is the sound of chatter and honking of cars. “Where are you?”
“I just had breakfast, I’m walking to the… office.”
“You called me when you were having breakfast? Am I that much more interesting than whoever you were with?” you ask, your tone teasing.
“Of course you are,” is Leah’s reply and you could feel your stomach flipping upside down.
“Now who’s the sweet talker?”
“Still you.”
“Says the person who couldn’t stop telling me I’m pretty when we facetimed for the first time.”
Leah laughs and you really, really love the sound. “But you are pretty.”
“But I don’t think I need to hear it every five minutes.”
“Just accept the compliments, love.”
“Okay,” you relent, a grin spreading across your face. “Who did you have breakfast with?”
“Just my team– colleagues. My colleagues, Beth, Viv and Lia.”
You go silent for a few seconds, the last name ringing a bell in your head. “Lia as in your ex?”
“The one and only.”
“Oh.”
Leah must’ve sensed the jealousy in your voice (but honestly, you aren't jealous, you’re really not), because the next thing you know Leah is laughing and telling you that it didn’t work out between her and Lia because they were better off as friends.
“You see her everyday though,” you say, your voice less confident than before.
“And what about it?”
“You don’t see me everyday,” you pout, staring at a polaroid picture of Leah smiling at the camera that is stuck to the wall of your cubicle. Leah sent you a handwritten letter along with that picture a few days ago. Your roommate was the one who received it and it went something like this:
“Oh my god, there’s no way this is your Leah.”
“What?” 
“This! Is this really her?” 
“Is that Lee’s mail for me? Did you open it?!” 
“I got curious!” 
“Give me that!” 
“You never mentioned that she looks like this!” 
“I just haven’t shown you what she looks like ‘cause everyone kept on teasing me!” 
“Because she could be a fake for all we know! But holy shit, she’s soo stunning. Does she have a twin sister?”
“No.”
“A twin brother?” 
“No.” 
“Can I have her instead then?” 
“What the—no?!” 
“Fine, be stingy like that.” 
“...I’m really fine with us like this.”
You blink away images of your roommate in your head and focus your attention back to Leah’s voice. “What did you say?”
“I said I’m okay with not being able to see you everyday,” Leah repeats. “Talking to you over the phone is enough.”
You smile. “It’s enough for me too. It’d be great to have you next to me but this is good too.”
People would think otherwise but for you, having Leah a phone call away really is enough; you'd take hearing Leah's laughter through the phone than not hearing it at all.
10 Nov, 1:11 pm
y/n: I got a dog
leahw6: ???!! 
leahw6: Y/N CALL ME OMG 
leahw6: I WANT TO SEE 
y/n: you’re more excited to see him than me :// 
leahw6: YES 
y/n: excuse me 
leahw6: WHAT’S HIS NAME 
y/n: robert 
leahw6: ROBERT? 
y/n: yes, robert 
leahw6: he's now my favourite
leahw6: SEND PICS
y/n: :/ 
y/n:
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leahw6: you know you're my favourite too  
y/n: :D 
leahw6: but I think I like robert more than you OMG HE'S ADORABLE!!!!
y/n: bye 
London
December, 2023
leahw6:  want to hear a funny story
y/n:  what is it
leahw6:  a guy tried to hit on me tonight
y/n:  excuse me???
[incoming call from y/n] 
“That’s not funny,” is the first thing Leah hears once she accepts the call.
“Hello to you too,” Leah stifles a laugh. You sound tense and Leah can just picture the frown on your face.
“Leah.”
“Yes, babe?” Leah learnt that the quickest way to melt away your anger is to use pet names and so for any argument (even if Leah is in the wrong), Leah would always win.
This time it doesn’t seem to work. “How is that funny again?” 
“Darling, I’m just teasing you.”
“Did a guy really hit on you?”
“Yes,” Leah answers honestly. “He bought me a drink.”
“I see.”
Leah doesn’t like how dejected you sound. So she presses the button for facetime and the first thing she sees when you accept is her girlfriend pouting at the screen.
“What are you doing?” Leah giggles.
“Is all of this funny to you?” you pout even more, your phone screen illuminating your face in the dark room.
“Did I wake you up?” Leah asks instead. She knows you like to sleep in on weekends.
“Yes, but that’s fine. You know I want to talk to you any chance I get,” you answer, shifting so that you’re now lying on your side.
“You’re the best,” Leah says as she climbs in bed, tucking herself under the covers.
“Obviously,” you scoff. “Unlike that stupid guy who doesn’t know you’re off-limits.”
Leah grins at the annoyed look you’re giving her. “Baby?”
“Hm?”
“It’s so cute when you’re jealous.”
You roll your eyes. “Of course I’m jealous. He gets to be within your presence while I’m stuck here, freaking sixteen thousand kilometres away from you. It’s unfair.”
Leah sends her a soft smile. “But you’re the one I’m talking to every day, so who’s the real winner here?” The frown is still present on your face and Leah wants nothing more than to kiss it away—so that’s what she did.
“Leah, what the hell are you doing?”
“Kissing you,” Leah answers simply, kissing her screen again.
And when Leah hears laughter from the other end, her heart feels much lighter.
“Lee, have you cleaned your phone? That’s gross.”
“Shut up. I’m trying to be romantic.”
“Cute, but maybe clean your phone first.”
Leah rolls her eyes at you, her smile never leaving her face. “At least I made you laugh.”
“You always make me laugh,” you say, your face so close to her camera that the entirety of Leah’s screen is just a close up of your face. Leah’s heart swells in adoration at the sight.
“Did you have a good night's sleep?” Leah asks.
You hum in answer. “Now it’s your turn to get a good night’s sleep.”
You could see how hard Leah is trying to keep her eyes open.
“This sucks, time difference sucks” Leah pouts. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Baby,” you give her a sad smile. “It is how it is. We’ll talk more when you wake up.”
“Yes, captain,” Leah gives you grin, her eyes fully closed.
“Good night, Leah. Sweet dreams.”
You watch Leah go to sleep for a few minutes, the sound of her soft snores making it seem like she’s right next to you. 
That night Leah dreams that you're right next to her, holding her close and keeping her warm on the cold winter night.
1K notes · View notes
carolmunson · 1 year
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let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)
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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. :) 
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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.’” 
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“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.” 
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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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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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.” 
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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.  
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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. 
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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. 
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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.” 
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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. 
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hyukalyptus · 7 months
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anything for you — beomgyu x reader w pierced nipples | established relationship. NSFW/MDNI!!!
cw. afab!chubby!reader has pierced nipples obvi, mentions of sexting/sending nudes, lots of nipple play, reader wears lingerie, unprotected sex, cumming on the tummy, a teeny bit of a voice kink for both, not proof-read too well. notes. happy kinktober! apparently i've been in a beomgyu mood recently?? i blame @agustdiv1ne for clouding my brain w beomgyu thoughts ever since telepathy tbh. honestly i don't rly love this, but lmk what y'all think <3 smut under cut. wc. 2.3K
“You look so sexy in all those pictures you’ve been sending me,” he says, his voice low and smokey, you can practically feel his breath on your neck. Not seeing each other in a few weeks often leads to desperate, longing texts to each other and the frequent nude photo from you. 
“I knew you’d like them,” you giggle. “I know you miss me.”
“I do.” Plopping down in his hotel chair, he sighs, exhausted from the day he’s had. “I miss you so fucking much, babe.” Oh, what would he be doing to you if you were there? Not just sitting in this stupid chair, that’s for sure. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m at work, babe,” you say matter-of-factly. Damn. God, he’s been dreaming of having phone sex with you for weeks. Your voice in real life gets him going enough on its own, but the thought of getting off to just your voice…sounds magical. But between rehearsals, your job, and interviews, there’s never been a good time. “I was actually about to say I gotta go. I’m sorry.” You slouch over in your hand, longing for his touch just as much as him. “I did wanna tell you,” you start. “I have a  surprise for you when you get home.”
-
“You’re here.” Finally, after weeks apart, he’s standing in your doorway—it’s surreal. The way he smiles down at you, eyes already mentally undressing you while he kicks his shoes off, letting you grab his hand to drag him to your living room. 
Pushing him to the couch, you hover between his legs, knees pressed into the couch cushions as his hands rest on the small of your waist. 
“Ready for your surprise?” A smile appears on his lips. It’s all he’s been thinking about. 
“I dunno…am I?” 
“Yeah, I think so.” Tilting your chin down, you look at his eyes sensually, like you’re about to scream. Reaching for his hands, you ask, “Why don’t you unbutton my shirt for me?” You wore that shirt just for this, just to watch him slowly undress you so you can see the absolutely delicious expression on his face. Nodding gently, he takes forever. You think you may burst. 
As your shirt falls to the floor, he looks over your body—every beautiful inch of it—your full tits spilling over the top of your bra, your tummy rolls looking so delicious and warm, your waist that holds his hands so perfectly. 
His expression drops, “Wait…what’s the surprise? I mean, your body’s enough of a surprise, but am I missing something?”
Shooting him a knowing look, you suggest, “Maybe you should take my bra off.” Reaching behind you, your heart pounds waiting for the snap. It always feels so good to take your bra off, but the look on his face when he sees—
“Oh my god…” he exhales, his eyes darting between both of your nipples with new barbell piercings through them. Your chest heaves with nervousness as you wait for his reaction. You expected an attack of lips and tongue, to be picked up and dragged to bed, maybe even to be fucked right on the couch.
But none of that happens. His eyes are wide, just staring at your tits. 
“D-do you like them?” You ask, eyes awkwardly diverting to the couch. 
“Are you kidding?” He sighs, sitting up straight, reaching for one of your tits, opening his mouth.
“Nope,” you giggle, pulling away from him. “You can’t lick them until they heal.”
“When will that be?”
“I got it done a few days ago…” you look up, biting the inside of your cheek. “So about a month left.”
“A month?” Collapsing back on the couch, his eyebrows stitch together, rubbing his temple before he whines, “But babe…”
“You’ll be alright,” you say, tussling his hair. 
SIghing, he says, “I guess so…” Eyes floating across your body, he can’t take them off you, god this is gonna be hard. “Stand back a second? I just wanna look at you.” How can he not put your nipples in his mouth for a whole month? Can he even touch you? How is he gonna get through a whole month without squeezing your gorgeous tits? You can tell some kind of internal conflict—almost existential crisis level—is going through his head. 
“Babe, calm down,” you giggle. “You can still squeeze my tits. You just can’t—” Yanking you forward by your fingertips, he hands urgently squeeze you. “Babe, babe,” you giggle. “Just avoid the nipples, okay?” Nodding rapidly, he buries his face between your cleavage, kneading them gently. “You really like them though, right?”
“Oh, fuck yes.” Coming up for some air, he looks up at you through his lashes, breath heavy. “They’re sexy and…really pretty if I’m honest,” he says. Returning his mouth to you, he sucks and licks everywhere but your nipples and frankly, this might be tough for you too. 
-
A month later, you’d planned a dinner date and with your piercing finally healed, you can’t wait to get through it to get home. It’s been just as hard on you…make out sessions that would naturally move to his lips wrapped around your nipples ending in groans of realization, gasps at the sting of a squeeze that was a little too rough, you’re ready for them to be healed already.
It’ll all be worth it, though, you keep telling yourself. A month of suffering in order to look super fucking cool and hot the rest of your life? Definitely worth it. 
Sitting on the same side of the booth, you show enough PDA to make the whole restaurant cringe if you weren’t in a private dining room. Whispers of what he wants to do to you later make it more and more difficult to keep the fact your piercings are healed a secret. 
Back at your apartment door, your heartbeat races faster and faster as you unlock your door. Both of you know where this is going—it’s where almost all dates lead to—but only you know his lips will once again be on your—pierced—nipples.
As soon as your shoes are kicked off, he slyly leads you to your bed, hands already following the curves of your body as he rips clothes off your body until there’s nothing left but your cute lingerie. 
Reaching behind you, he unclasps your bra as he lets out a sigh, eyebrows stitching together at the sight of you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen your body. 
“Babe…your body,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “It’s just,” he exhales, running his hands all over you. “Perfect.”
“I know,” you giggle to yourself proudly, loving when he’s so desperate to touch you. Lips attached to your neck, fingertips trace random shapes on your thigh. He’s wanting to take his time tonight, you think to yourself. 
“You know…” you sing and he hums in response, still covering your body with kisses. “It’s been about a month since I got my piercings.” 
Backing off quickly, he asks, “Are you saying…?” Eyes wide with anticipation, you bite your lip and nod. Practically giddy, he sits up to ask, “They’re healed?”
“Not completely, so you still need to be careful.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so excited to lick you—almost in a pant as he squeezes you experimentally. He’s so cute. 
“Are you sure? It’s not gonna hurt?”
“I’m sure.” You nod. “Go ahead.” Kissing around your nipple, his lips barely miss the most sensitive part of you. Blowing it gently, he watches it pucker even more than it was with the jewelry through it, a gleam in his eye at your body reacting without him even touching you. Finally pressing his lips to it, you flinch at the tenderness. 
“Good?”
“Yeah.” You nod. “They’re still a little sensitive, but I’m okay,” you say, your chest heaving. Flicking his tongue over it, he groans in relief, eyes snapping shut. Feeling you relax, he’s not playing around anymore. Squeezing you harder, licking you more furiously, he gently sucks you into his mouth, experimenting a bit, carefully listening for your moans of approval. 
Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you shove his face down just to have a little bit more. You’d forgotten just how fucking good it felt to have his mouth on your nipples. It’s magical. You’re flooded with anticipation. You need him. Bad. But you want him to take his time too. 
“Fuck, you’re hot,” he says, repositioning to straddle your hips. After sucking enough to leave marks that’ll show up tomorrow morning, you pull him closer by the nape of his neck to press your lips to his. “Get on top of me for a bit.”
Flipping on his back, he pulls you over his hips, forcing you to lean against the headboard with your forearms, giving him easy access to your tits that fall right in front of his face. You're losing patience. His tongue feels so good, but your nipples are tired. It’s starting to get a bit overwhelming. You need him somewhere else.
“Babe, babe,” you say breathlessly. “I think that’s enough—” Shaking his head, he mumbles a nuh-uh into your chest. “Yeah-huh.”
“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. Gliding his hands down your back, he squeezes your ass harshly before gliding across your clit with his thumb. Gasping, your patience starts to run thinner and thinner. 
Lifting your body up, you say, “Sit criss-cross. Following your instructions, your legs wrap around his hips and you kiss him again, his hands exploring your body. Fuck, you need him. 
“Baby,” you sigh between kisses. “Please. I need your cock so bad.”
“Already?”
“You’ve been licking my nipples for an hour,” you giggle. “I’m getting impatient.” Grinding down on him, he’s painfully hard underneath you and god, you just want him inside already. Reaching for his cock, your eyebrows raise, silently asking permission. After earning a nod from him, you slowly sink down, a groan leaving your throat. 
Arching your back, his mouth finds your tits again while his hips thrust into you as if they have a mind of their own. Almost instantaneously, he finds a sensitive spot inside you. 
“You look so sexy in my lap like this,” he whispers, his voice muffled by your chest. Moaning, your head falls back while he grabs your thighs, giving you a good spank. “Your tits are gorgeous,” he says, making you chuckle. “What a great fucking view.” 
The sudden feeling of his mouth on your nipple makes you yelp—you’re still so sensitive. He halts, looking up at you worriedly, asking if you’re alright. . 
“Yes, yes—” you say breathlessly. “It just feels amazing.” He smirks, returning his mouth to you, his tongue never leaving your skin. Stretching his hand over your tummy, his thumb rubs circles over your clit, adding even more sensitivity. 
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so fast.” You gasp. You’re so fucking close. 
“That’s it, baby.” That fucking sentence. That sentence on it’s own is enough to send shivers down your spine, but the way he says it with that deep fucking voice is incredible. It makes your stomach tie itself in knots, it turns your cheeks red, and makes your head light. “Cum on me,” he says, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips. “Cum all over my fucking cock, babe.” 
With a few final bounces, you let yourself go, cumming hard around him. The feeling you’ve been waiting for crashes over you. Sure, you’d had sex while your piercings were healing, but not having his tongue on your nipples simply wasn’t the same. This new heightened sensitivity has your head reeling. Your shuddering legs can hardly hold your own body up. You’re damp with sweat. 
And fuck does he look good, smirking up at you with that cocky smile, watching you ride out your high. He loves having you cum like this. You look so helpless trying to hold yourself up. 
He doesn’t waste much more time though. Once you catch your breath, he flips you on your back, pinning your hands over your head to kiss you harshly. Thrusting into you again, he stares down at your bouncing tits, gripping one with his left hand, his thumb carefully pressing into your nipple. 
As you moan through gritted teeth, he digs into you, beads of sweat forming at his forehead as he focuses on his movements and making himself feel you. You already had your turn. 
And fuck do you feel good. He’s simply using you as a cocksleeve at this point and you can’t get enough of it. Neither can he. The image of your bouncing tits with pierced nipples is too fucking good. But combine that with your absolutely soaking pussy, he’s in heaven. 
As his thrusts get uneven, he groans, pulling out to pump himself a few times to finish on your tummy. He’s never done this before. He’s always finished inside you or he’s finished on your back and you’ve never seen him touch himself like this. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. You’d be happy if that was the last image you ever saw. 
Leaving a sloppy kiss on your forehead, he sluggishly stands, leaving you and your heaving chest on your back with your tummy covered in his cum. You’d recovered from your own orgasm, but you’re still short circuiting over seeing him jerk off in front of you. 
“What?” He chuckles at your blank face as he returns with a damp towel. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he snaps you out of your trance. “I gotta say,” you start. “I really liked watching you touch yourself there at the end. I don’t think you’ve ever done that in front of me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah…will you do that more often for me?” You ask, running your fingers through his hair.
“Anything for you, babe.”
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