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serasvictoria · 2 years

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Title: Pretty Persuasion

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: You are the proud owner of Hawkins Records and have been for some years now, but dwindling sales mean that you might be forced to close the store that you love so much. Help comes in the form of Eddie Munson, former friend and frontman of a very successful band, but since the two of you hadn't parted in the best way 12 years ago there is no telling what will happen when you reunite again.

Word Count: 19.398

Content warning: 18+ mdni. Porn with lots of feelings. I am not joking, there are a lot of feels in this. Two idiots in love. Swearing. Oral (m and f receiving). Unprotected sex (p in v). Alcohol use, but nothing outrageous. Short haired Eddie (hey, if the guys from Metallica got a haircut in the 90s, Eddie can get one too). Please let me know if I missed something!

Notes: This story takes place in 1996 and Eddie and Reader are both 30 years old. Reader character graduated in 1984, the year that Eddie was supposed to have graduated as well, and left Hawkins shortly afterwards.

I made a playlist for this that I played whilst writing and it can be found right here for people that are interested. It's mainly alternative music from the 90s from bands that I love.

Beta read by the lovely Pearl. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

Tagging @adrille88 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @quantumlocked310 @kaybee87 @istorkyou

“Hawkins Records, how can I help you?”

Eddie bit his bottom lip. This was crazy. This was probably the craziest idea that he ever had in his entire life.

“Hello?” He swallowed and before he could answer, the feminine voice on the other end started talking again. “Chase, is that you again? I can hear you breathing down the phone, you fucking perv. I swear to god if you call again I will fucking end you. We’re talking about me taking a pair of garden scissors to your house and cutting off your balls.”

“Wow,” Eddie said with a laugh. “Jesus. Harsh.”

“Oh.“ The surprise in her tone is clearly audible, even in just that one word. “I’m sorry, but we’ve been having some issues.”

“I can tell.” He laughed again and ran his hand through his hair nervously. “Look, I’ll make it quick, because I don’t want that guy to miss out on your furious, and might I add, sexy voice…”

“Fuck you,” the voice on the other end countered with a chuckle of her own. “But what can I do for you then? Want me to hold a copy of the Alice in Chains Unplugged CD for you?”

“Nah, thanks, I already have one,” he replied.

“Lucky you.” Eddie decided not to mention that he was given a copy by Jerry Cantrell himself. He didn’t like to brag. “So? What do you need?”

“Well, it’s not about what I need, but about what you need.” He could hear her groan on the other end so he kept talking before she gave him a lashing with her tongue (which he wouldn’t have minded much to be honest and he hadn’t even seen the girl). “I heard that the store isn’t doing too great…”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounded decidedly smaller then, with a lot less confidence and bravado as before. “We got til the end of the year,” she sighed. “Unless I win the fucking lottery or something.”

“Guess this is your lucky day then, because I can make all your troubles go away,” he snapped his fingers next to the mouthpiece. “Just like that.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I want to make you an offer you can’t refuse...”

That was two weeks ago.

And now Eddie Munson was on his way to Hawkins Records.

Eddie Fucking Munson. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson as almost everyone at school used to call him. Eddie, the singer and lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin, the band that you’d seen play many a time at The Hideout before they’d made it big.

It was insane that you could even say that you once knew the frontman of a band that played at sold out venues all over the world. It had taken them years to get there, but they had made it.

While you had been away at college, Gareth, their drummer, graduated and shortly thereafter all four of them had left Hawkins to record a demo in Indianapolis.

Their self-titled demo was available in the store, still did reasonably well actually, and it got reprinted almost every single year. The first pressings were worth quite a bit of money and you actually had two of them upstairs, something that you had been saving for a “rainy day”. You had been slowly trying to get yourself used to the fact that that day might come a lot sooner than you thought, but then Eddie had called to make his offer, to buy the store and thus taking care of all your financial difficulties.

If he had been serious about it at all that was.

Because there was every chance that he might change his mind when he found out that you were the current owner. There was a history between the two of you that you’d rather not think of, but for all you knew, Eddie could turn on his heel and walk straight out again as soon as he saw your face.

The bell above the door rings and you instantly call out, “He’s not here yet.”

It didn't take a genius to figure out who had come round to check if Eddie had arrived. Again. It was only the ninth time that he had come round since the store had opened almost four hours ago.

Hurried footsteps approached the counter and when he reached it, his fingers started drumming on the old wood nervously. “He said that he’d be here over an hour ago,” Dustin says as he keeps his eyes firmly pointed at the door.

“Maybe he’s stuck in traffic somewhere,” you reply as you turn the page of the current edition of Rolling Stone magazine, something that you were barely reading at all. It had Jenny McCarthy on the cover with a hotdog that she was spraying loads of mustard on in a suggestive manner. “Or you know, it could all be some elaborate joke.”

“He’d never do that.” Dustin looks slightly shocked that you even suggested that at all. His curly hair, which was usually hidden underneath a cap, was slicked back. There was so much wet-look gel in it that it shone like crazy. “Eddie loves this place.”

“I know,” you reply with an annoyed tone in your voice. Looking back down at the page, the words ‘An artist wears his work in place of wounds’ in a Patti Smith article caught your attention. “I used to come here with him, you know.”

Whenever Eddie had money to spare, he’d be in here and looking for new releases. When he was listening to something that he liked, which was often, he’d pull the worn headphones off his head and shove them in your face, while excitedly telling you, “You’ve got to hear this.”

You had been with him when he bought Judas Priests’ Defenders of the Faith for example, which had been proclaimed as the best thing ever by Eddie at the time. The then owner, Rob, had later gifted a poster with the cover art on it to Eddie which he had stuck to his bedroom wall that same afternoon. You also distinctly remembered Eddie making fun of your, sometimes poor, taste in music, like when you had bought R.E.M.’s Murmur, a band that you still loved and whose second album you were playing right now.

Every good memory of your teenage years was tied up to this store.

And to Eddie Munson.

“It’s why you took over, right?”

“What?” Your mouth falls open, completely in shock over his question. “I didn’t buy this store because of Eddie! W-why would I- fuck. That would be so incredibly stupid!” Dustin raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing you. “I didn’t! I love this place and I didn’t want to see it turned into another run of the mill store. And look where that got me.”

“It’s okay,” Dustin replies as his fingernail picks at a loose piece of veneer on the old counter. “Eddie will save the day.”

“Yeah right. I still say that all this is some elaborate pr-“

Before you can finish your sentence, the door suddenly swings open, making the bell ring again. You didn’t look up from your magazine this time either, especially not when you heard that voice.

“Jesus. This place hasn’t changed a bit.”

You gave yourself a quick once over and deemed yourself passable enough. Since you had been half convinced that Eddie was never going to show, you hadn't even attempted to dress up. It was hot as fuck too, the height of summer, and the old AC barely offered enough in terms of cooling the place down, so you had opted for a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top with the name of the record store printed on it.

At least the clothes were clean. Thank god for that.

Despite not wanting to, fearful of a look of disappointment on his face when he saw that you were now working here, you did eventually look in his direction. It was all too easy to picture that same boy that you had hung out with daily all those years ago. The youthful exuberance didn't appear to have left him at all, but he wasn't the same guy that you had once known.

His hair was a lot shorter for starters.

Back then, he had vowed never to cut it, even though he had had a buzzcut in middle school. The long hair was part of his persona, an extension of it if you will, and he had made jokes about how all his strength was in his hair, very much like Samson. It was cut short now, but still long enough to show off his curls, with one curled over his forehead in what was either a deliberate or accidental move.

His clothing hadn’t changed much. His outfit was still predominantly black, with jeans that were so tight that it looked like they had been spray painted on. His shirt, with a faded Metallica print, was sleeveless and showed off all the new tattoos that he had gotten over the years. You briefly wondered whether there was a piece of his skin that hadn’t been inked yet.

Different, but still the same.

“You’re late!” Dustin calls out.

“Traffic was a bitch,” Eddie replies with a chuckle. “Is that you, Henderson?”

"Who else?" Dustin approaches him and is immediately swept up in a big hug. Dustin had told you that he and Eddie had kept in touch before. From the moment that he had found out that both of you knew Eddie, he hadn't shut up about him. In fact, Dustin had been the one that had told Eddie that the store hadn't been doing well. "Hey, man."

"Hey." They release each other and Eddie pats Dustin's back one more time for good measure. "Haven't seen you in a while, big man." It had looked like Eddie had wanted to say more, but you could see his nose crinkle in disgust even from this distance. "The fuck. R.E.M.? I fucking hate those guys."

You scoff loudly from behind the counter and that was when he finally noticed you. "Fuck you, Munson. Pretty Persuasion is the best song ever."

"Is not, loser," he counters like he used to do more than ten years ago as well. "Jesus,” he grins. “Talk about a blast from the past."

"Something like that," you mumble as you finally close your magazine and move it to the side.

You could hear Michael Stipe singing ‘He’s got a pretty persuasion’ through the speakers. It felt very appropriate to you.

Despite Eddie always being very vocal in his dislike of everything R.E.M., you did wonder if he even heard the lyrics and whether he finally realized that whenever you heard that song, you always thought of him. Sadly, he showed no sign of awareness as his eyes swept over the place that he used to know like the back of his hand and your shoulders immediately slumped in defeat.

Too good to be true, eh? Just like old times, you thought to yourself and tried to settle into an air of indifference, the only line of defense that you had left.

Eddie started walking around the store like he used to do back then as well, with Dustin hot on his heels instead of you on this particular occasion. He kept looking up at the walls and the various release posters that you had plastered all over it.

Some of which were old, like the one for Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation which hung next to one for Rage Against The Machine’s Evil Empire which had been up there for about three months now.

You saw Eddie reach out and touch the Kurt Cobain poster, in a sign of respect. Some local kids had turned into some kind of shrine after Kurt had died two years ago, scribbling messages on it about how much he had meant to them. You didn’t have it in you to take it down.

Eddie and Dustin were talking in hushed tones, laughing occasionally, as they slowly made their way to the counter. Seeing Eddie up close for the first time in ages was making you nervous already.

Stop it, you think to yourself. You're being ridiculous. It's just Eddie. No big deal. Maybe he forgot all about what happened and then you can get on with your life.

"Didn't know you worked here," Eddie said when he was a couple of feet away from you.

"I own the place.” You almost sound too casual, which was a miracle seeing how you were a total mess on the inside.

"Really? Since when?"

"Since Rob died, so that's… what?” You start counting on your fingers quickly. “Eight years ago now?"

It was shortly after you graduated from college and you were still in that “What next?” stage of your life. You had merely been visiting Hawkins at the time, on a social call to visit some relatives, when you found out that Rob had died. Buying the record store had been a rather impulsive decision that you had never regretted, not until quite recently anyway.

"So you're the girl that I talked to on the phone?" He was standing on the other side of the counter now, his hands placed flat on the wooden surface, his rings immediately catching your eye. You nod in reply to his question. "You could have told me that that was you."

"Didn't think about it," you reply. You look at Dustin over Eddie's shoulder first, a big grin spread all over his face for some reason, before looking Eddie in the eye. "Why? Are you disappointed?"

"Fuck, did I say that?" He flashes you a wide grin, his dimples appearing like sunshine that was peeking through the clouds. "I know how much you love this place."

"Yeah. It seemed like the right thing to do, you know?” You thought that you were still pulling off this whole casual indifferent act, but from the way that Dustin was looking at you, who was trying very hard not to burst out laughing, you figured that you probably looked like a damn lunatic. “And I inherited some money when my grandmother died so I had the funds to do it."

“I’m sorry about that.” Eddie’s eyes soften considerably and he reaches out to give your hand a comforting squeeze.

“Don’t be. It happened a long time ago.” When you pull your hand away a bit too quickly, Eddie frowns briefly, unsure why you don’t seem to want him to touch you. Your hands are clammy and shaking so you hide them underneath the counter instead, out of his reach. “So. Here you are.”

“Here I am,” he grins, having recovered from your rejection. “And you’re in trouble. Never thought I’d be bailing you out.”

“It was usually the other way around,” you laugh.

Whenever Eddie was in trouble, and he got into trouble a lot (Hopper practically had Eddie’s number on speed dial), you’d usually provide him with an alibi, swearing up and down that you’d been with him all night and that he had never left your sight.

“So it’s high time that I repay the favor.”

“Guess so.” You look away from him, his stare too intense. “You’ll have to tell me how this is going to work though, I’m a bit fuzzy on the details.”

“Sure.” He pushes himself away from the counter, somehow sensing that you didn’t know how to act around him. “Glad that it’s you by the way.”

“Me?” It was true that you had always loved this place, it was the closest thing to a second home that you knew, but actually going as far as buying it in an effort to save it? It had been a hasty purchase driven entirely by love. You hadn't even given yourself time to think about it. It hadn't been until you were actually standing in the store all those years ago, as the owner this time, that you had taken the time to think about what the hell you had done. "I can't help but think that I shouldn't have, you know?"

"Don't say that. This old place is kinda instrumental in getting us back together now, right?" A shiver runs down your spine when Eddie says that and you know that he didn't mean it like that, but you can't stop your mind from wandering in that particular direction. "Besides, I'm here now, ain't I? Your savior."

"Fuck, Eddie," you laughed. "Still with the theatrics."

"Some things never change, babe."

"I guess not."

After a short amount of time spent catching up, you closed the store early and went out for lunch with Eddie and Dustin at a local diner. Everyone stared at Eddie from the moment that he walked in.

Several of the older patrons still looked at him like he was a devil worshiper whereas some of the people that had attended high school with him had looks on their faces that hinted at jealousy and something else, too. Belinda, a former cheerleader, even came up to him with one of the biggest plastic smiles that she could produce and told him how glad she was to see him.

As soon as she left, after realizing that Eddie wasn’t going to give her any attention, the three of you sniggered and talked about how Belinda had never even looked twice at Eddie when he was still in school.

Now that he had made it big, Eddie was suddenly a lot more interesting.

“Fuck, that was so weird,” he says when you head back to the store. It was just the two of you now, because Dustin had already made plans with Suzie. “I think that she was putting the moves on me, too.”

“You think?” You nudge his side with your fist. “She looked ready to drop down to her knees and suck you off in front of everyone.”

“Ew.” Eddie shoves your shoulder and you laugh in reply. “I don’t even want to think- that’s fucking gross, man.”

“Doesn’t that kind of thing happen to you all the time?”

“Sometimes,” he says with a shrug. “But that doesn’t mean that I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Starfuckers,” you counter as you hold open the door that leads to your apartment above the store. “All looking to become the next Mrs Munson.”

Eddie chuckles at that and you want to laugh along with him, but you could feel a sense of dread begin to form in the pit of your stomach.

You didn’t know why you thought this, but maybe he turned down Belinda Foster, former head cheerleader and current very unhappy housewife, because he had a girl waiting for him back home. It was a very distinct possibility at least.

“I wouldn’t have made fucking Belinda my wife even if I had stayed here,” he sneers when you reached the top of the stairs. “She’s the one that gave me that damn 'Freak' nickname.”

“No way,” you reply and you watch Eddie nod to confirm it. “She started that shit?”

“She did! She was a massive bitch.” Eddie tried to open the door at the top of the steps, but it wouldn’t budge. “Locked.”

“Oh shit. Wait.”

You took the remaining steps until you were standing next to him. The hallway was narrow and you were suddenly very much aware of how close Eddie was. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him as you fiddled with the lock.

“There,” you say and when you looked back up at him, you were looking straight into his warm brown eyes. “Open.”

“Hmm?” Eddie didn’t appear to have heard you, his eyes were on your lips the entire time. “What?”

“Open,” you cleared your throat and pushed the door open suddenly. “The door. It’s open.”

“Oh," he shook his head then, the spell broken. "Okay.”

With a gesture from your arm, very much copying the same kind of gestures he'd make all the time at girls back in high school, Eddie stepped into your place. You leaned against the cool wall for a moment to gather yourself before you followed him inside.

You had already been nervous, but your nerve levels had reached epic proportions now that Eddie was standing in your shitty living room with the old carpet flooring and looking at what was on your walls and what was on the shelves.

He had come to a standstill in front of a collection of picture frames and eventually plucked one from the shelf and held it up to you. “What the hell happened to these kids, huh?”

You didn’t have to look at it more closely to know exactly which picture it was.

Eddie was smiling in it, his signature grin on his lips, and you were sticking your tongue out at whoever had been taking the picture. The two of you must have been around sixteen. Both dressed entirely in black, you wearing a Joy Division shirt and him in an Iron Maiden shirt.

You were at some gig, you couldn’t remember who had been playing anymore, but you did remember how Eddie had wrapped his arms around you that night, his chin resting on your shoulder, to sing along with some cover that the band had played.

“God only knows,” you counter. “Bet they never saw any of this coming.”

That was only half true. Back then, Eddie had the same aspirations that he had since made a reality, to make it big with the band. Your dreams were a little bit more basic, but Eddie was involved in every single one of them.

God, you were such a sap.

“Cute.” Eddie had a different picture in his hand now and since you couldn’t see which one it was, you decided to join him. When you were close enough, he held it up for you to see. “I took this one, right?”

It was an old Polaroid. It was taken during another one of Hawkins’ hot summers. You were wearing a crop top and laying in the grass, a pair of Eddie’s sunglasses obscuring your eyes, your cheeks flushed from the heat with a big smile on your face.

It was probably one of the few pictures where you had a genuine smile, teeth on display and all, which was all down to the guy on the other end of the camera.

“Yeah,” you reach out to take it from him and smile at the memories that come flooding back in. “You gave it to me.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

The look in his eyes is softer than you expected it to be and there was something unreadable in there, too. You fumbled with the picture frame and would have dropped it if it hadn’t been for Eddie.

His large hands enclose yours and help you hold the frame more steadily. He opens his mouth, about to speak, when you suddenly tear your hands from his grip and put the frame back down where it belonged.

“Thanks,” you mumble quickly. “Butterfingers.”

You backed away from him slowly, saying something about needing to find the papers of the store. Eddie watches you open a drawer and pull out a couple of folders that were filled with paperwork before taking it to the dining table, which looked more like a dumping ground for various things, and going through them. You’re hunched over the table, every muscle in your body pulled taut as a bowstring from the nerves.

You never used to be this nervous around him, but then again, things had changed. It hadn’t exactly ended well, something that he still regrets and he hopes that he’ll be able to explain it at one point during his stay.

"Who's Chase by the way?"

Eddie had been curious about the guy ever since he had first spoken to you on the phone. He doesn’t miss how your shoulders stiffen at the mere mention of the name and how you release the breath that you’d been holding moments later.

"My ex husband," you reply in a deadpan voice.

"You were married?!”

"As I seem to recall, you’d gotten married, too. My marriage didn't get a mention in the gossip rags though.” It had been fairly big news at the time. Metal guitarist marries a squeaky clean actress. That wasn’t the actual headline of course, just what it had turned into in your head. They had been a very unlikely couple after all. “Mine lasted longer as well."

"Fuck you.” He laughs at his own stupidity. “It was a mistake, alright? I barely knew her. Hope that you knew your guy though."

You look over your shoulder at him. "You know him, too."

"The name doesn't ring a bell."

"Chase Wright?” you ask, but Eddie’s expression doesn’t change. “He was a center on the basketball team?"

"What?” He definitely recognizes the name now. “You married that douche?!"

"Eh," you shrug. "He was cute."

"You hated his guts," he counters with a sneer, still remembering how Chase used to treat others in school.

"People are allowed to change their minds, Eddie." You can’t keep the anger out of your voice, but the anger is mainly aimed at yourself, not at him. “People change.”

"Okay, fair enough." He held his hands up, signaling defeat. "I take it that he's not around anymore."

"Nope. Kicked him out when I caught him fucking a girl that used to work here.” You slam one folder down on the table to get some of the anger out of your system. “In our bed."

"Ouch."

"Ah well. He can go fuck himself,” you say dismissively. You didn’t want to waste any more time thinking about Chase. “Good riddance.”

“You never needed a guy anyway.”

“Huh?” You frown when Eddie says that and while you’re fairly certain that he meant it as a compliment, you’re still left confused by the remark. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were always pretty independent and took shit from no one.” Eddie looks and sounds impressed as he recalls the person that you once used to be. Keywords being 'used to be'. “You were cool.”

“Things were different back then,” you say as you move onto the next folder with papers. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself cool now.”

“I would,” Eddie laughs.

“Shut up.” You laugh along with him and shake your head. “You’re way cooler. You made it, dude. Living the dream and all that bullshit.”

“Not entirely,” he says under his breath as his eyes scan the pictures again, especially the one of you sprawled out on the lawn of his uncle’s old trailer. “Got obligations now. Records to sell, gigs to play… it’s not all fun and games.”

“Yeah well, at least you don’t have to keep this place afloat.”

“I will if you find those papers.”

“Touché.”

“Why’d you really buy this place?” Eddie sees you freeze and can hear the piece of paper that you’re holding shake in your hand. “It couldn't have been doing much better before you took over.”

“Not really,” you say quietly. “I just couldn’t-” He hears you make a little triumphant noise then and sees you reach for the next piece of paper and hold it up. “Found it.”

It takes you a few seconds before you’re standing next to him again, handing him the deed that you’d just found. “This is what you need, right?”

Eddie looks at it and then back up at you again. Whatever you had been about to tell him, it was pretty obvious that he wasn’t going to get the answers that he sought right now.

“Yeah,” he eventually replies. “This is what I need.”

Maybe later.

Eddie called the guy that handled finances for him (he actually had a guy for that) and set things in motion on his end.

It should take a couple of days, but at the end of it Eddie would be the new owner of Hawkins Records and the future of the store would be secure.

Crazy when you thought about it.

It hadn’t been talked about in so many words yet, but you assumed that he would be fine with you staying on to run things and that you’d report to him every once in a while? You had no idea what Eddie wanted, but you knew for certain that he wouldn’t stay and run the store himself.

You celebrated your future joint venture with pizza, cheap beer and music. Owning a record store meant that you had plenty of albums to choose from and you swore that Eddie was like a kid in a candy store. You were more than okay with him picking the music and he had dug several gems out of your collection already.

While Motörhead’s Iron Fist is on the record player, an album that Eddie played so much that he ended up ruining the record when he was a teenager, talk turns to his love life when Sex & Outrage plays.

It was a song about groupies, which is something that Eddie thankfully does not discuss. You didn’t want to know how many girls came up to their tour bus in the hopes of getting lucky with one of the band members and you weren’t going to ask him about it either.

“You have no idea,” he says while you grab two new bottles of beer from the fridge. “It’s insane. I could barely get anyone to look twice at me in high school and now I can’t go anywhere without having girls write their phone numbers on whatever they can find and slipping them to me.” He takes a bottle of beer from your hand and pops the cap with his lighter. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you say with a shrug. He trades his opened bottle for your closed one. “Must be tough, huh? All those models that want to fuck you all the time?”

“For the record, there’s only been one model and she was fucking exhausting.”

“I bet.” When he takes a sip from his beer, you see his nose crinkle, something that you mistake for disgust. “Sorry that it’s not the more expensive stuff, but we don’t really get imports here.”

“Honey, I like Miller. I’m not exactly a fan of that overpriced crap anyway.”

“Huh.” You took a swig of your own bottle and sat down on the lazy chair next to the couch that Eddie was sitting on. “So you’d rather spend your money on keeping a failing record store in business than treating yourself to the finer things in life?”

You reach forward to grab a packet of cigarettes and a lighter off the coffee table so you didn’t see how Eddie’s eyes focused on the collar of your tank top. You had not realized that you had flashed him a more than generous amount of cleavage.

“Like coke and hookers?”

“Call girls,” you correct him right before you lit your cigarette. “Hookers sounds too cheap.”

“And I don’t do cheap?”

“Seeing how you made it enough to buy your way out of Hawkins, why would you?” If you'd been in the same position, you'd be living it up, you knew that much at least.

“I’m still the same guy that I was back then.”

“Only with more money this time round." Corroded Coffin had come back from a very successful world tour only two months ago and there was plenty of talk of them working on a new album so it's not like they were doing badly. "And drowning in pussy, too, I reckon.”

“Pfffff. You keep bringing that up." He put his hands on the back of his head, leaned back and looked at you with raised eyebrows, like he was taking a bit too much satisfaction out of the fact that you seemed to be very much preoccupied with the state of his sex life. "Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of anyone that gets laid regularly," you elaborate. "Not like there are a lot of options round here for an alternative chick that runs a record store.”

The only guy in town who would have potentially been up for a hookup had been Steve Harrington, but a former cheerleader had managed to change Steve's womanizing ways. There was even talk of him buying her a ring to make it official, but who knew if that was actually true.

“There’s someone for everyone," Eddie declares and you're somewhat surprised that he even buys into that shit.

“I got burned one too many times," you counter. "I ain’t looking anymore.”

There’s a silence between you two after that statement. It came out sounding too harsh, too bitter, your words a little bit too scathing.

It was a barefaced lie, too, and you knew it, but the only guy that you ever truly wanted wasn’t exactly available to you. It didn’t matter that he was here right now, because he’d only leave eventually.

They all did.

“We made out once,” Eddie says quietly as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Long time ago.”

“Jesus!” you exclaim. “I can’t believe that you remember that.” Pretending that you barely remembered was the best course of action here. You weren’t going to admit to the fact that you still thought about that night regularly and how you regretted that everything had eventually slipped away from you. “I was high as a fucking kite.”

“And drunk.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you were taking advantage of me?”

“You think I needed to?" Seeing how the two of you went way back, it wasn't that hard for Eddie to see straight through your lies. "Fuck, you were throwing yourself at me before you’d even drank one beer.”

“I was not,” you say indignantly. “Besides, I seem to recall that you kept trying to look down my shirt that evening.”

“Was not!“

“You’re such a bad liar, Munson. Always have been.” You lean forward and try to kick his shin, but he pulls away just in time. “My tits were the first thing that you went for when we started making out.”

“Can you blame me?” He gestures at your rack. “Your tits were fucking amazing.”

“Still are,” you say under your breath, thinking that he hadn’t heard you and completely missing how his eyes drift down as soon as you had said it. “You were groping them as if you had no idea what to do with them.”

“Yeah, well, it was my first time feeling someone up, alright?" He flexes his fingers then, as if he was trying to remember exactly how they felt in his hands and you're briefly mesmerized by the seemingly simple gesture. "And I’d been obsessed with your rack for ages.”

“Really?”

“Fuck yeah, couldn’t get them out of my head.”

That one hookup had never really gone anywhere, though.

You had been teenagers, horny teenagers.

There had been tension between you for ages, that’s what you had thought anyway, and Eddie had been ogling you so blatantly that night, too. His eyes were drifting down whenever he thought that you hadn’t been looking and shooting up to your face whenever he thought that you noticed.

In the end, you had made the first move after a couple of beers and one shared joint. The kiss had been impulsive and while it had taken Eddie’s brain a couple of seconds to catch up to what was happening, he had matched your fervor when he kissed you back and pulled you into his lap.

It was just one night of kissing, groping and grinding on each other. A few hours full of breathless giggles, foreheads pressed together, shared breaths, you gasping into his mouth when he pulled you harder against him, his pupils dilated so far that you could barely see the brown of his irises anymore.

How it hadn’t ended with you in his bed was anybody’s guess, but it hadn’t. You vaguely remember the promises of wanting to do it right, wining and dining you properly, instead of fucking you in the back of his van.

Sadly, it had never gotten the chance to evolve into something more.

When the two of you had seen each other again on Monday, it was like nothing had happened at all.

Eddie had blushed furiously at first, but he had recollected himself fairly quickly, slammed his hand in between your shoulder blades and asked you if you had finished your homework, something that he had never taken much interest in before.

“You acted like it had never happened.”

“I was nervous, alright?” he admits. “I spent most of that Sunday jerking off whilst thinking of you on top of me so I kinda freaked out when I saw you again.”

“I tried to kiss you again the next weekend and you turned your head away.”

It was something that you had never forgotten. Despite the fact that he had acted off with you all week, you had still tried to repeat it the following weekend.

Eddie had not let you however. He turned his head away when you leaned in, your lips connecting with his cheek instead, and then he had excused himself.

It was the lowest that you had ever felt in your entire life. After sitting in stunned silence for a short while, you had headed back home and cried yourself to sleep that same night, because you’d been crushing on Eddie hard for ages and then he just… rejected you.

The Saturday night before you had been soaring high above the clouds and the Saturday night after, you crash landed back to Earth.

“I’m sorry, alright, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”

“I’ll say! We barely talked for the rest of the year!” you exclaim, still hurting over something that had happened a lifetime ago. “And then I graduated, went to college and we never spoke again. By the time I came back, you were long gone.”

“And I still regret that every single fucking day!”

That little outburst silences you for a bit. You got the sense that Eddie was as bothered by his own conduct as much as you had been back then. The way that he had responded to it, something that you had perceived as embarrassment that he had even let it happen at all, had ended a friendship of several years after all.

“Dude, why didn’t you ever just tell me?”

This entire conversation was draining you. When he had called you out of the blue two weeks ago to make his offer, you had wondered what he would do when he would find out that you were the one that ran the store now. You had never once counted on the fact that the two of you would have this long overdue conversation.

Part of you hoped that he had forgotten about it entirely, but it appeared to weigh as heavy on his mind as it did on yours.

“Instead you just tried to carry on as usual at first while I had to overhear stories of you hooking up with drunk chicks that came to watch you guys play at The Hideout. I fucking hated you by the end of the school year.”

Things had been tense between you after he had rejected you. Eddie had made an attempt to remain friends by pretending that he hadn’t utterly humiliated you, completely ignoring the fact that he might have needed to apologize. All the while you kept withdrawing from him.

Offers to come hang out or whatever else Eddie thought up were all met with excuses from your end, even using the famous “I need to wash my hair that night” line.

Eventually, he got the picture and left you alone completely.

“I know,” he sighs.

“You broke my heart, Eddie.”

“I know.”

“Is that all you’re gonna say?” You groan loudly and wipe a hand down your face in frustration. “Fuck, you never should have brought that night up to begin with. Would have been better if it had just remained in the past where it belongs.”

Getting up from the couch, you walked over to the small kitchen area and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the counter. You opened it and took a drink straight from the bottle, not bothering to put it in a glass. The liquid burned as it went down your throat, momentarily taking your mind off things.

“That was my first kiss, you know.” You couldn’t resist, even if the hurt was clearly audible in your voice, you still wanted him to be aware of what he had done to you. “And you basically fucking ruined it.”

“I never meant to-“

“Well, you did. I felt like shit, Eddie. You were my best friend and then I lost you because of something stupid like that.” You took another gulp from the bottle, one so large that you gasped for breath afterwards. “I think that you should leave. Go ask Dustin if you can crash in his spare bedroom or something and then we can forget that this ever happened.”

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! Just go back to whatever fucking mansion you live in right now. Sell your records, fuck your groupies… whatever.”

“You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”

“At least you got out of this shithole of a town,” you bit back. “I’m stuck here with all the fucking memories.”

“What memories?” His voice sounded a lot closer now and when you turned your head, you noticed that he was standing a few feet away from you. He closed the distance and leaned against the counter next to you. “Hey. What memories?” he repeated again.

“This place,” you said as you gestured around you, but really meaning the store down below. “And this dumb fucking town with its dumb fucking people that I can’t shake no matter where the hell I go. I got into Columbia for god’s sake! And look at me now! Running a record store in a town that I hate.”

“So it’s nothing but bad memories then?”

“No,” you replied quietly. “Not all bad.”

“So which ones are the good ones?” He slid in a little closer until his arm made contact with yours. “Wanna tell me?”

“No.”

Because he knew. The bastard fucking knew. He knew that all the good memories involved him. He just wanted to hear you say it out loud for once, for you to stop chickening out for once in your life and to tell him how you really felt.

"Why not?"

"Because."

Too embarrassing to admit to for starters, because how are you even supposed to voice something that you've only ever said in your head? Where would you even start?

"That's not an answer."

"It's all you're getting." You try to move away from him, the need to put distance between the two of you was overwhelming because you couldn't trust yourself around him. "It's late."

"Is it? It’s not even eleven yet." He called you out on your bullshit immediately. His fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulls you back against him. "What are you so scared of, huh?"

"Eddie."

"Come on, just answer the question."

"Don't make me," you say softly. He turned you around until your ass was pressed up against the kitchen drawers. Then he placed his hands on either side of you on the counter, effectively caging you in. His big brown eyes were practically burning a hole through you. "Please don’t make me answer.”

“I’m just curious, is all.”

“Why?”

“Come on.” His smile is warm and inviting, the same one that you remembered, and it was starting to sway you. “We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. I guess,” you shrug halfheartedly.

“You think that I’ll make fun of you or something?”

“I wish you would.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because maybe then I could forget you,” you blurt out. He looks at you curiously, head tilted to the side as he takes you in. His expressive eyes, which usually gave you so much, are unreadable now. Or maybe you just ignored everything that was swirling around in there, still convinced that nothing would come out of this. “If I ever packed up and left, it would be like closing the door completely. And I don’t want to. I can’t.”

“So it’s my fault that you never left?”

“Yes. Because despite everything, I kept hoping that you’d come back one day and seriously, why would you? Everybody hated you.” Almost everyone in town thought that he was some cult leader when all that the Hellfire Club did was offer a safe space for all the rejects. That combined with the fact that Eddie was always so unapologetically himself was a recipe for disaster in a town like Hawkins. “Why would you want to come back to a town that treated you like shit most of the time?”

“Honey, if I had known that you were here, I would have.”

“You mean it?” He nodded in reply. “Don’t lie to me, Eddie.” It sounded too hard to believe, like something made up just because he wanted to get laid, because that was where this was going, wasn’t it? You could feel the electricity crackle in the air between you from the moment that he set foot inside your apartment. “You really mean it?”

“Yes,” he replies and he looked honest enough, his big brown eyes seemed to hold nothing but the truth in them. He still couldn’t lie for shit. Not to you. “I never stopped carrying a torch for you. Kept hoping that you’d come to a gig one night so we could catch up, pick up where we left off, but you never did.”

“I was scared.” Your voice breaks at the last word and you can feel tears begin to well up in your eyes. “I couldn’t-“

“Shhh,” he put his index finger on your lips to silence you. “You’re here now.”

“That’s ‘cause I live here,” you chuckle weakly. “Can’t leave.”

“Lucky me.”

Eddie’s lips ensured that you wouldn’t be able to reply this time. The kiss was desperate and hungry. Your teeth clashed as you came together, but neither of you cared about the clumsiness of it.

This was something that both of you had been looking to repeat for many years now.

Twelve years to be precise.

And while both of you had matured during the years that you had been apart, you were also still very much the same in a way, as if you’d merely been playing at being grownups for all this time. As if time had somehow stopped ever since you parted, only to start again now that you were together again.

“Eddie,” you moan against his lips when he pushes you up against the counter so hard that he was in danger of hurting you. You'd definitely have some bruises to show for this in the morning, as proof that it really happened. “Is this- are we really doing this?”

“I’ve been thinking of nothing else for years, baby.” His hands cup your face desperately, tilting it further back so he can run his teeth down the column of your throat. As soon as they make contact with your skin, you start to make noises as if you are in heat. “Jesus. Keep doing that.”

“I will if you will,” you breathe back.

“Deal.”

His hands grab your waist and he lifts you up onto the counter. You instantly wrap your thighs around his hips and Eddie starts rutting into you a split second later. Every time his pelvis connects with yours, you could feel him growing harder. Whenever his cock presses into the apex of your thighs, you mewl and your eyes practically roll back into your skull every single time.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you dig your nails in his shoulderblades, no doubt leaving little crescent shaped imprints in his skin. “Want you so bad.” His hands slid under the hemline of your tank top, grabbing two handfuls of your tits within seconds. “I need you.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He pulls on the fabric that was covering your torso, almost tearing it in his eagerness to get it off. “Fuck, baby,” he growls when he got an eyeful of your chest. “You were right. They’re still fucking amazing.”

“You heard me?!”

“What do you think?” He buries his face between them and looks up at you. “Most perfect tits I’ve ever seen.” His tongue slides along the scalloped edge of the lace cups. “And you’re not bad either.”

“Shut up,” you lightly smack the back of his head. “You can always leave if you want to.”

“Are you kidding?” Eddie pulls the cups of your bra down, finally uncovering your tits. “I’ve been dreaming about this for years. I’m not gonna leave now.”

He finally stops talking, finally, and puts his mouth to good use. His lips latch on to one of your nipples and you throw your head back so far that the back of your head slams into the cabinets above the counter.

You swear loudly and Eddie pauses for a second, to look up at you and see if you were alright.

“Fine!” you all but shout. “I’m okay. Keep going.”

“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you want.”

Eddie dives straight back in, lavishing your tits in so much attention that you start grinding your hips against his, practically begging for sweet release.

“Goddammit,” he husks against the shell of your ear after his tongue had licked a stripe all the way up to your neck. “Your tits are perfect, sweetheart. Can’t get enough of ‘em.“

“Oh yeah?“

“Yeah.” He moves down again, licking at the pebbled skin around your painfully hard nub. “I want to paint them with my cum.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Not yet, baby.”

Eddie pulls you against him, off the counter. As soon as your feet touch the ground, you kick your flip flops off and he turns you around so he can press his pelvis against the curve of your ass. You press back when you feel his bulge grinding into you.

“Don’t want to come too fast,” he whispers in your ear as his hands start undoing your jeans. “Want to take my time.” He yanks your jean shorts and underwear down roughly, pulls them over your feet and discards them next to him. “But you’ll get my cum eventually, don’t worry about that.”

“I wasn’t. Not worried at all-!” The last word turns into a high pitched yelp when his hand connects with your bare ass. “Jesus, Eddie.”

“Fuckin’ love it when you say my name like that, sweetheart.” He slides his hand between your legs and hums appreciatively when he finds out how wet you are. “You’re so wet.”

“Used to get like that all the time around you,” you admit, moaning loudly when his fingers brush against your clit. “You were a fucking idiot for never noticing it before. Was always worried you’d smell me or somethin’.”

“That bad?”

“Couldn’t go near you without soaking through my panties.” Eddie groans straight into your ear and it sends a flood of warmth straight down to your core. “All the fucking time, Eddie. I had it bad. Real bad.”

“Fuck, I-“ His fingers freeze suddenly and you whine while bucking your hips against his hand in an effort to get him to move again. “I wanna make it up to you.”

“H-How?”

“You’ll see.” He takes a step back and leans against the drawers next to you, leaning back far enough so he can see your face. “Think that you’ll like it.”

You watch him, wide eyed, as he lowers himself and sits on the floor, his back resting against the cabinets behind him. He grins widely, as was usual for him, takes your hand and pulls you to the side. You step over his legs until you’re standing astride him and he looks up at you, his grin bordering on feral now that your pussy is at eye level.

“This how you want me?” You run your hands through his short hair lovingly and he leans into your touch for a moment.

“This is exactly how I want you.” His eyes never once left your cunt and he blows hot air on it, the fucking tease, just to see you squirm. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

His hands grab the back of your thighs, right underneath your ass, and bring you in closer. He presses his lips to your mound, lingering there as he looks up at you. You nod once, giving him permission, not sure if he was even asking for it but giving it all the same.

Eddie hooks your right leg over his shoulder and spreads you open even further. You just know that your foot is going to hurt from the way that it’s wedged between the wooden doors and Eddie’s back, but you could care less.

You had been waiting for this moment for so long that you could deal with some slight discomfort afterwards.

When his tongue finally makes contact with your clit, you swear that you just died and went to heaven. The contact is minimal, a light swirl with the tip of his tongue, but it’s enough to make you shudder and make your lungs constrict.

You moan his name when his tongue dips in deeper, sliding between your folds, pressing against your entrance and it’s enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut so hard that you're seeing stars.

“Stay with me,” he breathes against your sopping folds, the warm air tickling you and making your hips jerk. “Stay with me, princess.”

“Feels so good, Eddie,” you choke out. “I’m not going to last.”

“You’ll have to,” he whispers against you, “Because I’m not gonna stop.”

His tongue works against you like he’s a virtuoso, as if he’d been practicing for this single moment his entire life, hitting you in all the right places with every swipe of his tongue. He played the guitar with the same dexterity, knowing full well that he was good with the instrument, one of the best in fact, and he plays you with the same level of confidence.

A pathetic whine bursts from your lips as he subjects you to this sweet torture, as if you were simply another one of his guitars, adding you to his already extensive repertoire.

You press your hands against the laminate counter hard, your torso bending forward and resting on your forearms, head hanging down as Eddie pulls the most inhuman sounds from your lungs.

The smug bastard smiles against you, enjoying seeing and feeling you come undone by his tongue alone, and then he moans, actually fucking moans, when he pushes his tongue as deep into your pussy as it could go.

It proves to be too much for you. Your entire body tensed up, all your muscles pulled taut, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream as your climax crests and peaks. It’s so intense it almost tears a hole right through you.

Only Eddie doesn’t stop.

Still caught in the aftershocks of your orgasm, breathing so hard that it feels like your lungs are on fire, your hips buck when you feel something probing your entrance.

You sob loudly, tears already pricking your eyes, as Eddie slides two digits into you - slowly, slowly - until they can go no further. He pulls them out completely and then slips them back in.

“P-please,” you cry out. “I c-can’t take any more.”

“You say that,” his voice sounds leisurely and relaxed, his breathing warm on your overworked cunt. “But your body keeps pulling me back in.” You groan in discomfort, but your body betrays you, your hips twitching and moving back and forth in time with his motions. “See? You want more.”

“Eddie-“

“You can do this,” his free hand connects your ass roughly and he laughs when you let out a loud yelp. “One more time. Indulge me.”

“Oh god.” Your voice wavers when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot and making a sudden jolt course through your body. “I really ca-“ Your voice goes up in pitch when his tongue touches your clit again. “D-don’t… s-st-stop…”

Those two words are enough to make him speed up. His fingers thrust up into you harder and faster and his lips practically attach themselves to your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves and flicking at it with his tongue.

Your second climax is a scorcher and you come whilst screaming his name. Your body convulses, wanting to fold in on itself, and you claw at whatever you can simply to keep yourself standing upright when you feel your knee buckle underneath you.

Eddie unhooks your right leg from his shoulder and you can feel the muscles in it scream from soreness. You can feel a trickle of fluid flow down your thigh as his hands settle on your hips and he pulls you down onto his lap.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lean into his chest and Eddie’s hands rub up and down your back gently as you come down from your high.

“You okay?” he finally asks when your breathing has normalized. He listens to you take in a shaky breath before you even say anything and he worries that he may have pushed you too far. “Talk to me.”

“It’s so unfair,” you mumble into his chest.

“Unfair?” Surprise is clearly audible in his voice, but you’re unwilling to move from your very comfortable current position. “What’s unfair?”

“I’m practically naked and you’re still fully dressed.” It makes him burst into laughter and even when he stops, his belly still shakes when he tries to contain himself. “Not funny,” you pout, even though you’re amused yourself.

Sitting back on his thighs, you pull on the collar of his shirt. Eddie hooks a finger underneath the strap of your bra, the only item of clothing that you’re still wearing even if it’s all askew, pulls it back until it snaps against your skin.

“You’re still wearing this.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause it covers up so much.” You roll your eyes, reach around the back to unhook your bra and take it off. “Doesn’t change anything about the fact that you’re not naked.”

“Hmm.” He leans forward a little, his lips ghosting over yours as he grabs the hemline of his shirt, pulls it over his head and tosses it as far as he can. “This better?”

“A little,” you pout, trying to sound disappointed, but who could ever be disappointed when looking at Eddie’s inked chest? It was an amazing sight after all. “You got a lot more since I last saw you.”

“I was eighteen when you last saw me.” Your finger traces the demon head on his chest that you recognize, which has faded a bit over time. “Remember that one?”

“I was with you when you got it, so yeah, I do.” You bring both hands up to his chest, tracing all the new designs that he’s gotten since then, more intricate and colorful. “Do you even have any skin left for more?”

“Well, I have a couple of places…” He trails off, his cheeks coloring and a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “But the most important one is still empty.”

“Oh?” Your eyes go over the parts of his skin that you can see, but there’s barely any space left. “Where?”

Eddie takes your right hand, brings it up to his chest and places it right over where his heart is. “Right there.”

You move your hand away and sure enough, there’s an empty spot that you missed. It’s just about big enough for a name.

“That’s an important one indeed,” you muse as your fingers move back and forth over it. “Any thoughts on what you want there?”

The question was rhetoric, because it was painstakingly obvious what he had reserved that empty spot for.

“A name,” he replies. “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” you grin. “You never know.”

Even though he had been married and had probably been with loads of women, it was still empty. So maybe that meant-

You shook your head. No way. There’s just no way.

“What’s up?” His voice is so low that it makes you shiver involuntarily.

He obviously wants to know what you’re thinking, but this is something that you can’t voice out loud, not yet, so you need to find a way to distract him somehow.

The easiest way to do that was to…

“Fuck,” Eddie groans when you grind your hips against his. You do it slowly, getting the maximum amount of friction out of it, and your breathing hitches when you angle your hips just right. “Distracting me?”

He knows what you’re doing, of course he does, but the way that he’s smiling tells you that he doesn’t mind.

“Wanna suck your dick, Ed,” you tell him. “Need to wrap my lips around it.” He swears under his breath and you look at him through your lashes, biting your bottom lip teasingly. “You gonna let me? You gonna put it in my mouth and fuck my face?”

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “You can't just- fuck. Can’t believe you just fucking said that.”

“Eddie,” you moan, really going in for the kill now. “I want to take all of it. Every. Inch.” You enunciate the last words clearly, emphasizing every syllable, your smile growing when you see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I want you to make me choke on it. You wanna see the tears stream down my face, don't you? From barely being able to fit all of you into my mouth?”

He grabs the back of your neck, pulls you close and slams his lips down on yours. He kisses you so hard that you forget to breathe and when he pulls away, he’s breathing just as hard as you are.

“When did you get so fucking filthy?”

“You don’t know half of it,” you wink. “What about it then? You want to see me on my knees with your cock in my mouth?”

Twisting your head to the side, you can feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he says, “You’re such a dirty little slut.”

His words send a fresh flood of warmth down to your cunt and all that you can reply is, “Uh-huh.”

“On your knees.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You’re off his lap in a flash and on your knees, ready and waiting for him. Eddie gets to his feet and his hands settle on his belt, but you brush them away quickly.

“Allow me.”

There was an overwhelming need to work fast, to unbuckle his belt quickly, yank his trousers down to his knees and stick his cock in your mouth, but it was way more fun to tease him.

Just a little.

Taking his shoes off is what you start with. You quite possibly draw it out a little bit too much, grasping the metal slider of the zippers, pulling them down tooth by tooth, holding onto his black boots as he steps out of them and then putting them side by side next to you.

Starting at his ankles, your hands skim up his jeans slowly, on the outside of his legs until you reach the top. You could have repeated that a couple of times, but decided not to.

That was more down to your own impatience rather than the temptation of pushing the boundaries, because there was nothing but amusement in Eddie’s eyes over your ability to even drag it out this long.

You undo his belt, taking care not to make your fingers brush over his crotch, where he was quite obviously straining away against the fabric in a way that was already making your mouth water. You were so ridiculously careful when you opened his zip too, fingers barely touching, your hands shaking like you were unwrapping the best present that anyone had ever given you.

Which is what he kinda was in a way.

His hand touches the top of your head, so tender that it makes you want to fucking cry, like you’re that same dumb teenager again that just wanted him to notice you and wanted him to pick you so desperately that you were blind to the fact that you’d had him all along.

You can’t even look up, too afraid to see the look in his eyes right now, so you grab at the fabric just above his knees and drag it down his legs. And you can’t even look at his boxer briefs, only catching a flash of the black item of clothing from the corner of your eye, but not focusing on it.

Not yet.

There ought to be something that you should be saying, but your tongue feels thick and your mouth dry as you keep pulling his jeans down, exposing his legs inch by inch until you pull it down his feet and leave it lying there.

When you finally hazard a glance up, Eddie’s expression is gentle, whatever bravado he always put on display was sorely lacking now. His eyes are unbearably soft instead, simply looking at the girl that he once knew, sitting on her knees in front of him and who seemed morbidly afraid to make a move.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s just me.”

As if he had to remind you of that.

But it was also exactly what you needed to hear right now and you lean forward, pressing your lips on his thigh softly, lingering there for a moment, before your hands move up to pull his boxers down.

When his cock finally pops free, proudly standing at attention, hard as a fucking rock, you almost gasp. Almost. You manage to restrain yourself, but he can see it written all over your face. The surprise and yes, the hunger, is all there in your pupils and in the little smile that materializes on your lips.

“Holy shit, Ed,” you whisper, impressed. “I’m definitely going to choke on that.”

“I’m counting on it,” he moans when you wrap your fingers around the base. You move your hand up once, just to feel the velvety shaft against your palm. “You just gonna keep looking at it?”

“Maybe,” you counter with a grin. You lick a stripe up his cock and he hisses through his teeth the second that your tongue makes contact with him. “Will that do?” Eddie raises his eyebrows as he looks down at you, head tilted to the side as if to say ‘are you serious?’ without saying anything at all. You try not to laugh and ask, “No?”

There’s a bead of precum glistening on the tip and you squeeze the base as you lean in closer. Your tongue darts out from between your lips to lick it away. The amount of contact he got out of this was minimal, so his hips press forward, chasing your mouth as you pull back.

“So impatient,” you chide. “That’s your problem. No self control.”

“You started drooling the second you pulled my pants down,” he answers. Unsurprisingly, he has called you out on your bullshit yet again. “Don’t deny it.”

“I’m not,” you reply as your fist gives a lazy stroke upwards. “Pretty damn hard not to considering what you’ve got packed away in your pants.”

With your hand still on his shaft, you keep moving it up and down slowly while also angling his cock out of the way. Eddie notices and was getting ready to ask what you were doing, his mouth already open, when you suddenly move in closer to take one of his balls in your mouth instead.

A low guttural moan bursts from his lips as your tongue moves in circles around the sac and your hand tugs on his cock at the same speed. When he swears under his breath, you start humming contentedly and he reaches down to grasp the back of your head, his fingers spread out, his thumb rubbing circles right behind your ear.

You move on to his other testicle, wanting to give the same amount of attention to both. His digits keep flexing, his fingernails scratching your scalp lightly, a gentle reminder that he could shove you down onto his length whenever he pleases and was merely holding himself back. You pull your head away slowly, tugging gently on his sac with your lips until you release him suddenly.

“Fuck,” he husks out, his voice low and hoarse. “That was insane.”

“You liked that, baby?”

“Thought it was obvious.” He runs a hand through his short hair. The errant curly lock of hair gets brushed back but it pops straight back out again a split second later.

“It was,” you grin. “But I still want to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” His voice is too level, too composed, so you lick up the line between his balls just to feel his cock twitch in your grip and he chokes out the next words. “Ye-yes, I did.”

“Good.”

Your eyes focus on his cock again, especially on the ruddy head this time. You lick your lips and you can’t stop yourself from smiling this time when Eddie whines above you. Your lips make contact with the tip so softly that he barely must have felt it at all, so you do it again, making sure that he feels your kiss this time.

“Still okay?” Your eyes are impossibly wide as you look up at him and Eddie’s pupils are so large that there’s barely any brown of his irises left. “Hm?”

“Great,” he chokes out and his voice goes up in pitch when you kiss his dick again, just below the tip. “Keep doing that.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

How long you even manage to keep this up, you don’t know, but you don’t think that there’s a part of Eddie’s cock that you neglected. You’ve kissed your way up and down his shaft at least twice, sometimes using your tongue as well, and since Eddie never once asks or begs you to take him into your mouth already, you don’t.

It ends up being a natural transition.

You let your tongue circle his tip and Eddie can’t help himself as his hips press forward so you suck it into your mouth, just a couple of inches, nothing more before releasing him with a wet pop.

Eddie laughs breathlessly and swears under his breath. You can see that the fingers of one of his hands have curled around the counter. He’s gripping it so hard that his knuckles have turned white.

“Poor boy,” you say to get his attention, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Want me to put you out of your misery?”

Despite swearing once or twice throughout his ‘ordeal’, Eddie had been unusually silent. He blinks, focuses on you, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Please,” is all that he manages to reply.

You manage to flash him one wicked grin before licking your palm and wrapping your fingers around his shaft once more. Then, without warning, you take him into your mouth and start sucking eagerly.

That seems to make Eddie’s tongue work again.

“Oh fuck,” he groans. “Fuck. Your fucking mouth. Jesus.” His vocabulary is limited and you can’t help but smile around him. “Don’t-don’t you fucking laugh at me.”

If your mouth hadn’t been full, you would have given him a smart ass reply, and the thought to do just that crosses your mind, but you ultimately decide against it. You had tortured the poor guy enough as it was, drawing it out any longer might unleash the beast.

A tempting thought indeed, but maybe later. Tomorrow morning perhaps?

Retaliation soon follows however. Eddie pushes his hips forward, forcing his length further into your mouth, and when he hits the back of your throat, you gag around him.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” He sounds so desperate that you can feel a fresh flood of warmth pulsing from your cunt. “You promised, sweetheart,” he grunts out. “You fucking promised.”

And he was right. You did.

You explicitly told him that you wanted to choke on his dick, that you wanted him to make you cry and that he could fuck your face.

So far, you hadn’t exactly held up to your side of the bargain. But you would. You fucking would. You’d do anything for the guy and what was a little bit of momentary discomfort if it got him off? He could use you as a sex toy for all you cared, you would be anything that he needed.

When you released him, he let out a long groan of disappointment, convinced that you were teasing yet again and just when he thought that you were done doing that, too. It disappears just as quickly when he sees you spread your thighs a little bit wider, hands settled on your knees, in an attempt to get a bit more comfortable.

“You’re right,” you purr at him. “I did promise.”

Eddie swears that he must have ascended to a higher plain when you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, presenting yourself to him, waiting for him.

He’s seen it before of course, similar poses from faceless girls who’d come to him after gigs, crooning in his ear about how amazing he was. Their hands everywhere on the way back to the tour bus, hotel, alleyway, wherever, but they’d all end up on their knees, whining shit about how badly they wanted him and his cum.

It all hits a little bit different when it’s a girl that he’s wanted ever since he hit puberty. The girl that he watched get more beautiful with every passing day until he finally realized that, fuck, he was in love with you, making his peace with how it could never possibly be reciprocated, ignoring all the times that you’d bat your lashes at him, because no way, there was just no fucking way.

No. Never.

And then fucking panicking when it finally happened like a goddamn loser.

Thank fuck for this day.

“You’re serious?” He almost chokes on the words and it definitely doesn’t help when you nod, batting your lashes and looking at him as if he’s the only guy on the planet. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

It barely registers with him that his hand reaches down on instinct, knowing what to do now that his brain is close to short circuiting, moving on autopilot, settling on the back of your head. You whine the second that his fingers make contact, actually fucking whine, and he’s not sure if he can handle this for much longer.

“Keep sitting there, okay.” Despite the fact that you’d already made it clear that you would do just that, he still feels the need to tell you. “Tap my leg if it gets uncomfortable.” One of your hands releases your knee and grips his calf. “Good girl.”

He taps the tip of his cock against your tongue one, two, three times, before he slides inside. It’s purely exploratory at first, just to check if you’d stay in your position, to see if you won’t pull away at the first sign of discomfort when he hits the back of your throat.

Your eyes well up when he keeps his cock there, pressed as deeply inside that warm, wet cavern of your mouth as was possible for a few seconds and when he finally pulls out, you gasp.

“Good girl,” he repeats. “Good fucking girl.” He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he pushes back in. “Relax for me.”

Breathing in deeply through your nose, you relax your throat and he drives himself in deeper than before. When you blink, you can feel the tears start to leak out and slide down your cheeks.

Just as you promised.

“Fuck.” All his feelings of attempting to take it slow for your sake are replaced by this deep animalistic need to climax. He grabs your face, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks as he starts fucking your face in earnest. “Fuck. S-sorry, but- Fuck.”

The sounds that you make, your moans coming out all garbled from having your mouth full, only spur him on. Saliva pools in your mouth, covering his shaft and easing his passage. Every time that he thrusts in, it drips out of the corners of your mouth. Drool soaks your chin, running down the column of your throat which is currently being used for all it’s worth.

You feel his cock jump suddenly and then the first spurt of cum hits the back of your tongue. You swallow it all down obediently, his little words of praise mixed in with his moans working for you in ways that you never thought possible.

There’s almost a sense of disappointment when his hands release you and your mouth feels incredibly empty when he pulls his softening cock out. You rub your jaw, feeling as if you might have dislocated it just to fit all of him inside.

“I think that you sucked my soul out through my dick,” he pants as he sinks down onto the floor. “Shit.”

“My-“ You start talking, but your voice has been reduced to nothing more than a hoarse squeak. The second you hear it, you laugh breathlessly. “My throat is sore.”

“You don’t say,” Eddie replies and then you both laugh. You’re not able to keep it up for long, your throat still sore as it was, and he leans forward to put his finger on your lips. “Wait.”

Pushing his legs under himself, still wobbly, he turns to the counter and grabs the almost entirely forgotten bottle of whisky and hands it to you. You take a sip, coughing when you swallow, but feeling it soothes you a little as well.

“Better?” You nod and hand the bottle back to him. He takes a swig from it as well and sloshes the remaining liquid from side to side. There isn't a lot left so he holds up the bottle and asks, “Finish it with me?”

“Sure.” You settle down on the floor next to him, the vinyl underneath you a little stickier on your bare skin than you would like it to be. You nudge your shoulder into his and say, “You just asked me that because you can’t get up, huh?”

“Shut up.” He pushes back with a laugh. “Maybe if you didn’t give such killer head-“

“You wanted me to do worse?” You take the bottle from his hands and take another swig. “Because, you know, I could try to do badly next time and give you the sloppiest blowjob ever.”

“You’ll fucking kill me if you do that again.” Eddie puts his arm around you and pulls you closer against him. When you start to laugh, he says, “I mean it.”

“Oh, come on. No other girl has given you a good blowjob before?” You hazard a glance in his direction, but his gaze is so intense that you look away after a few seconds. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

“Maybe it’s more down to the girl doing it,” he shrugs. “Yeah. That’s probably it.”

“Big softie,” you reply with a chuckle. “Mister Big Rockstar has a heart after all.”

“Haven’t had possession of it for years,” he counters. “You stole it from me when I was a teenager after all.”

The giggle that escapes your lips makes you clamp a hand over your mouth. It was a full-on teenager with a crush type of laugh, giggling unnecessarily loud over something that the object of her affections had just said and it embarrassed the ever loving crap out of you.

You clear your throat, which is feeling a lot better now, and when you look at him, Eddie’s lips are pressed into a thin line as he tries to not burst out laughing over having elicited such a response from you.

“You want it back?” You sound a little bit angrier than you had intended and that does make him snort. “Fuck’s sake,” you huff without any real conviction. “Why can’t I ever be normal around you?”

“Because I like you this way,” he counters with a chuckle. Eddie turns his head, kisses your temple and then whispers in your ear, “And keep it. It’s always been yours anyway.”

“Lord,” you groan. “That’s so- fuck.”

You want to say that it’s awful or sentimental, cliché even, but you can’t help the way that your heart soars upon hearing his words. It literally feels like your heart has exited your body and is flying up over your head in little circles.

Your stomach is suddenly filled with millions of tiny little butterflies and they’re doing loop-the-loops inside you, running amok through your insides and threatening to burst out like less scary versions of alien chestbursters.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Eddie says with that infuriating grin. “I’m supposed to play it cool, right? Take it slow for a while first before ultimately dragging you on stage during a show and declaring my undying love for you as I reveal to a stunned crowd that you inspired dozens of songs?”

“No,” you snort. “That kind of shit is not for me.” But he would know that, hence why he even said it in the first place. “I don’t want grand, sweeping gestures. I just want you.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Just like you apparently.” You squeal when he pinches your side. “Hey. Stop that.”

“Nope,” he replies as he does it again. “I’m never gonna stop doing that.”

“Guess I just have to-“ You pull away and lean forward, scrambling away from him on your hands and knees. Eddie manages to give you one well aimed smack on your ass before you get to your feet. “Not nice,” you say to him as you rub a hand over where he hit you, on the apple of your ass cheek.

“Thought you liked me that way.” Eddie leans his head back against the cabinet, his eyes sweeping over the naked expanse of your body first. He catches the tilt of your head, your eyes questioning. “What’s up?”

“…Did I?” Your sentence is half formed, the rest of it in your mind ever since a particular something had been said earlier, and his confused look makes you realize that you hadn’t exactly been clear. “I mean, did I inspire some songs?”

“Now that would be telling,” is his ambiguous answer.

“You’re a damn tease,” you tell him. “Anyway, I’m going to bed. You joining me?”

“I might,” he counters infuriatingly.

“Suit yourself.” You sway your hips exaggeratedly as you walk away and call over your shoulder at him, “You decide what you want to do, sleep on the cold floor alone or fall asleep while holding my warm body.”

When you reach the bedroom, you sit down on the edge of the bed, thighs open and pointed at the door and counting on your fingers. You manage to count to eight when Eddie finally appears. He stands in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the frame and taking you in.

His tongue moistens his lips and then he steps forward to take his place next to you in the bed. Your eyes fall on his half hard cock and you catch his smirk right before he starts kissing your neck.

There’s something on your mind that you need to address first however.

"Hey, can I ask you something first?" Eddie pulls back, your change in tone catching him off guard. "D-don't worry. Nothing bad or anything. I was just wondering."

"Think I know," he replies with a sigh. "You want to know why I never let it go any further back in high school."

"Yeah," you reply. "I never got it and you never talked to me about it either. I always thought that it was…” It was remarkable how all your teenage insecurities from back then just came flooding back and you can’t even look at him when you finish your sentence, “Thought that you didn't like me as much as I hoped… or that I wasn’t good enough… for you."

"Ah, Jesus." You feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers brushing up and down, but he doesn’t make you look at him. "No, that wasn't it at all."

"Then what?” You really wanted to know, you deserved to know. “I spent years agonizing over this."

"You probably don't even remember," he starts to say as he reaches out to take your hand in his and lace his fingers through yours. "We got the grades for some test back that week and I’d failed, as usual, and you had aced it. I already knew that I wasn't going to graduate that year and I figured that I'd only hold you back."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"That's how I felt though. You had this big dream of going to Columbia and I had nothing since I knew that I’d be stuck in Hawkins for another year,” he sighs, sounding a little embarrassed. “I was worried that you wouldn't go and yeah, it was really fucking stupid of me, but I did it for you."

"You shouldn't have decided that all on your own.” If only he had talked to you about it, things could have at least ended amicably, not with your heart shattered to pieces all over the floor. “God, you're such a jackass."

“I know. I realize that now. That’s why I was so glad that you were here, that I found you again.” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing the back of it and letting his lips linger there as he continues. “It felt like I got a chance for a do-over, like I was getting a second chance to make things right.”

“I thought that you’d only be disappointed, that you’d just walk out on me again.” A very small part of you still thought that all of this was some elaborate joke. Even if you knew that Eddie would never do that, it was a hard feeling to shake. “I kinda… can’t stop myself from thinking that, even now,” you admit with a shuddering breath.

“I’d never do that,” he gives you a quick kiss. “Never,” he repeats while staring deep into your eyes, so you can see how honest he’s being. “You honestly have no idea how much that dumb decision weighed on me over the years, how much I regretted letting the girl that I loved more than anything slip through my fingers.”

You pull your hand away from him suddenly and for a second there he thinks that that’s it, you’ll never forgive him for what he did to you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why was he even that big of an asshole? How could he ever have treated you like that? He was such a fucking-

His train of thought stops completely when you straddle his thighs from out of nowhere and you tap his forearms, mouthing the word “up” at him.

Eddie doesn’t even question it, lifts his arms instantly and lets you maneuver them the way you wanted, palms held up to you and you press your much smaller palms against his, lace your fingers through his and squeeze.

“There,” you say with some finality in your voice. “Can’t slip away if I do this, huh?”

The smile that you flash at him almost makes him choke and well up with tears, but then the look in your eyes makes him want to laugh until he cries because he can see what you want to say written all over your face.

Mister Big Rockstar. Such a fucking pussy. Practically in tears because we’re holding hands.

But that’s only half of it.

Throughout his time in Hawkins, you’d always been there in some way, ever since you were little kids. One day, you’d simply sat down next to him and gave him half of your strawberry jelly sandwich when his parents had failed to give him lunch that morning (which they usually did).

That was how the friendship had started.

After his mother died and his dad went to jail, his uncle Wayne had taken him in and the two of you became a very permanent fixture in Eddie’s life. Until he had fucked it all up, which he had all done for you as he had kept telling himself.

Still tore his heart in two every time that he saw you in the hallways at school after you had shut him out completely. It constantly made him want to run after you and drag you into an empty classroom, so he could explain why he had done what he did, but if he told you that there was always a chance that things could get worse.

Not like now, when you’re both older and wiser, and there’s no chance of either one of you running off. You could talk about it now, as adults, or some version of it at least, because Eddie still doesn’t feel very ‘adult’ if he’s totally honest.

The unshed tears are for the connection that he had with you for years, one that he threw away thinking that it would be better, but he got you back now. He’s right here, in your house, your bedroom, and yes, he loves you, always has.

You kiss the corners of his eyes and murmur, “What are you thinking about?” against his skin. “Talk to me.”

“Nothing,” he says too quickly and the way that you’re looking at him tells him that you don’t believe him at all. “Okay,” he chuckles instead. “You. I was thinking about you.”

“I’m right here,” you answer with a smile. “So you don’t have to think about me. Not when I’m right in front of you.” You release his hands and loop your arms around his neck. One of your hands moves to the back of his head, your fingers playing with his short hair, pulling on the curls. “I miss the hair.”

“Oh yeah?” You nod. “I could grow it long again. For you.”

“That’ll take ages.” You grab a handful of his locks and yank his head back. “Besides, it’s long enough to pull.”

“Little minx.”

“It was too tempting, I couldn’t help it.” His hands circle around your waist and his impossibly big brown eyes glaze over again. “Stop doing that. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

“You. It’s always been you.” His honesty is making your cheeks burn. That was always the thing about Eddie, he could be brutally honest at times and he wasn’t trying to hide anything from you now. “I’m making you uncomfortable, ain’t I?”

“No, not really.” You press your cheek against his shoulder to avoid his intense gaze. “Just can’t deal with you looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Pulling away, you sat up straight and looked into those impossibly deep brown pools that were his eyes again. “Like that.” You knew that it didn’t explain anything, but you would damn well try. “Like I’m… I don’t know… special.” When the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, you covered it with your hand. “I know that it sounds stupid,” you laugh. “I can’t come up with the words to explain it.”

“You are special,” he mumbled against your hand. When you looked at him quizzically, despite having heard him perfectly, he repeated himself. “You’re very special.”

“Sap,” you giggled. “You’re pretty special yourself. You’re everything.”

It was a spur of the moment confession and not something that meant much of anything, but it still meant the world to Eddie. He kissed your palm and you let it drop away from his mouth, fully expecting him to lick it next.

That hadn’t been on his mind at all.

For most of his life he had been told that he would amount to nothing, just like his dad, and he had proven every naysayer wrong since then. Even when he was getting ready to skip out of town with his friends, with nothing but a crazy dream and some cash that they had saved up, there were still people that tried to talk him out of it.

The only one that believed in him was his uncle. And he was sure that you would have believed in him, too, would have told him to go and to never look back if you had still been around.

So you telling him that he was ‘everything’ had unexpectedly hit a soft spot.

Pressing forward, he kisses you then, hard. As if to somehow confirm that you’re really here, that this is really happening, that you’re not some kind of mirage that his mind had conjured up.

“Calm down.” You place your hand on his chest and gently push him back to put some space in between you two. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’d better not,” he replies. He runs a hand from your shoulder blade down to your ass and he squeezes the pliant flesh hard enough to leave a mark. “Feel that?”

“What kinda question is that?” you laugh. “Yeah, I felt that. Wanna do it again?” He repeats it, squeezing harder this time and digging his short fingernails into your skin until you let out a soft moan. “I swear to god, if you skip town tomorrow morning, I will never fucking forgive you.”

“If I’m leaving, I’m taking you with me.” You stare at him as if he just lied to you, as if this is just sex to him and he just told him what you want to hear. “I’m fucking serious, babe. I need you with me.”

He was offering you a ticket out, which was all that you ever wanted, but now that you have it, you don’t know what to say.

So you kiss him instead.

The kiss turns fiery, into a battle between lips with tongue and teeth thrown in, and you’re left gasping into his mouth as his teeth gently close around your bottom lip and pull. Eddie gasps himself when you reach down to wrap your fingers around his now fully erect cock.

“Need to fuck you,” he pants against your cheek. “Please let me fuck you.”

“Lay down,” you answer. “Scoot back on the bed and lay down for me.”

When you pull away, you do it with reluctance. It would have been far easier to simply sink down on him before, but you want him in a different way.

“Good boy,” you say when he does as he’s told, laying in the middle of your bed with his head pressed back against the pillows. You can tell that he likes being called a good boy so you store that away for later usage.

Moving up the bed, you straddle his waist and you press down against his stomach, making sure that he’s able to feel exactly how wet you still are. Reaching a hand back, you grasp his hardened shaft and give him a few tugs until Eddie bites his bottom lip.

“I’m gonna ride you,” you tell him as you move back a little, your wet cunt hovering over him. “That okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he hiccups. “I want you to.”

“Such a good boy.” You can see him shiver and it makes you snicker. “Don’t worry. Good boys get what they deserve.”

You position his cock in front of your entrance and sink down on him. Just a little at first. You pause when his tip has slid in and you moan exaggeratedly. You take some more, moving down until he’s about halfway in and when you look at Eddie, his expression has a slightly pained quality to it.

“You’re so big, Ed,” you keen out as you wink at him. He slaps your ass and the noise of the impact reverberates through the room.

“Brat.” His hands grab your hips and he pulls you down onto him a little bit more. “Stop teasing.”

“But it’s such fun. Don’t you like it? Not even a little bit?” Before he can say that he does or doesn’t, you shift your weight and his cock slips fully inside you. The two of you moaned in unison. “Fuck.”

For a short while, you don’t move, simply marinating in him, adjusting to his size and how full he made you feel. His fingernails had broken through your skin from how tightly he was gripping you, but you barely even noticed. Not when Eddie was underneath you, his eyes half-lidded and looking up at you with such a lustful gaze that it should have killed you on the spot.

“I’m gonna move now,” you mewl as you rock your hips back and forth experimentally. “Holy shit, Eddie.”

“Good?” You bite your lower lip and rotate your hips as your eyelids flutter shut. “Fuck, you look so good like that.”

“N-not so bad yourself,” you manage to reply with your eyes still closed, the image of him burned into your irises. You happen to angle your clit just right against the trail of hair that ran down from his belly button and gasped out, “My god.”

“Just me,” Eddie chuckled smugly. “But thanks anyway.”

“Bet you get that a lot, huh?” Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to think of now, Eddie with other girls, all of whom probably worshiped him. You open your eyes and lean down over him, your face inches away. “But you should probably be worshiping me instead.”

The boldness of your words almost makes you laugh, but the way that his hands gripped you tighter, stopping you from moving against him altogether, the little moan that escaped his plush lips and the way that his pupils seemed to grow even larger for a millisecond there…

“Oh god.” You couldn’t help the wicked tone that seeped into your voice as you talked. “Are you into that?”

“Y-yes.” His reply is bordering on bashful. “Want you to use me.”

“I will,” you say as you sit upright once more. “I damn well will.”

If that was what he wanted, who were you to deny him this?

Lifting yourself up, you groan as he slides out and before his cock can slip out entirely, you slam your hips back down. His hands shift to your ass, pushing you up when you move, but apart from that Eddie doesn’t offer much assistance.

This is all you.

“This what you want, pretty boy?” you ask while you play with your tits. He didn’t even have to answer your question, because it was written all over his face. “Me using you just to get off?”

“Fuck yeah, sweetheart,” he manages to answer. “That’s why I’m here-“ His sentence is cut off with a harsh gasp when you slam your hips down on his particularly hard, temporarily making him forget to draw another breath when the walls of your cunt grip him particularly hard. “Oh god yeah. Fuck. I’m here… j-just for you.”

“Good.” You place your hands on his stomach, pressing down on his sweat slicked skin. The same glistening sheen stuck to your skin as well, partly from the stifling heat outside that got in through the open windows but mostly from how hard you were exerting yourself. “Such a-fuck!”

Both of you swore loudly as you found an angle that was particularly good for both of you. You worked hard to find it again, angling your hips and grinding down so hard that it should have been intolerable, but your legs quivered every time that you got it just right.

The muscles in your thighs and abdomen flex as you keep up your rough pace, riding him roughly, and chasing the friction that would make your toes curl which was steadily building in your gut. Eddie keeps balancing you with his hands on your ass, rocking you a bit more forcefully.

Your right hand shifts and slides up, to the empty spot, right over his heart. You can’t stop yourself from digging your nails into his pectoral muscle and you feel it jump under your palm. You drag your nails over it, creating red marks, to give him something to fill up the space for a short while.

You want to leave your mark. Desperately.

If Eddie notices what you’re doing, he doesn’t say anything. All he does is lay underneath you, his hands tight on your ass, gripping so hard that the imprint of his hands were going to be on your flesh for days afterwards. Several stray strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead and you swore that you could see beads of sweat slide into his hairline every time that you moved. His blown out pupils are on your face at all times, as if he doesn’t want to miss a thing at all.

You wink at him and he chuckles. “You’re crazy.”

“No doubt about it,” you groan. “Oh fuck, Eddie, you’re in so deep.” You gyrate your hips against his once before leaning back, your hands planted on his thighs and moving your hips up and down. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel so fucking good.”

Your jaw goes slack when Eddie pushes his hips up, pressing himself even deeper inside than before, practically impaling you. Your head falls back, your eyes on the ceiling, and you jump slightly when you feel his thumb pressing against your clit.

His eyes are on the point where your bodies meet, where your cunt is dripping with your slick so much that he can feel it oozing down and coat his balls. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the sickening squelch every time that your pussy slams down on his cock, is like music to his ears.

The change in pitch of your voice, turning your desperate mewls into words that got strung together and mashed into one long continuous string of “ohfuckyessoclose” until it was reduced to nothing but “pleasepleaseplease” over and over again.

The words get more strangled the harder he rubs against the swollen bundle of nerves, your walls bearing down and constricting him, until one loud cry bursts from your lungs, his name, and the coil in your belly finally snaps.

Your orgasm washes over you with all the force of a tidal wave and your arms almost buckle behind you when it hits, but you just about manage to keep yourself upright. Eddie’s hands grip your hips tightly, taking over and fucking you through your blinding climax, chasing his own release as he rams himself up into you.

“Where?” His voice manages to pierce through the deafening rush of blood in your ears. “Where do you-“

“Inside,” you choke out. He doesn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s asking. “Come in-inside m-me.”

The words are barely out of your mouth when you feel his cock twitch, pumping wave after wave of cum inside you. He wouldn’t even have been able to pull out if you had told him to.

Eddie manages a few more tiny thrusts up into you until he’s completely spent. The tension in his muscles eases and his hands move to your lower back in an attempt to pull you forward.

You collapse on top of him a bit harder than you intended, a small “oomph” pulled from his lungs which made you snort out a laugh. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close and you briefly feel his lips connect with the top of your head.

You settle against him, your ear pressed to his chest, and you listen to his racing heartbeat, listening as it calms down and turns into a steady drum inside his ribcage. You can feel your eyes begin to close, seconds away from nodding off, when his hand clutches yours. Your fingers lace together, like they had done many times that night, and you hoped they would do many more times after tonight.

“I meant it, you know,” Eddie says softly, not sure if you’re already asleep or not since you hadn’t moved at all.

“Hm?”

“Everything that I said tonight.” Your mind floods with all kinds of words, there had been a lot of talking in between other things after all. “Every single word.”

“That’s nice,” you murmur, not really in the mood for talking as you drift off to sleep. You’d be kicking yourself for that dumb reply in the morning.

“I love you.” His lips touch the top of your head and they stay there. “Always have.”

“Mm,” you can’t stop yourself from yawning. “I love you too, Eddie.”

“Get some sleep,” he chuckles. “I wore you out.”

You’re too far gone to come up with a smartass reply and barely manage to mumble a “goodnight” to him before you finally doze off.

You didn’t sleep long. Your body had grown an inbuilt clock, ensuring that you woke up at around the same time every day, all because of the store.

Didn’t matter that it was Sunday today, you woke up early regardless.

Despite knowing full well what happened the night before, you’re still kind of surprised to find Eddie next to you when you wake. It takes some time for the realization to set in that it’s still ridiculously early, especially for him. Eddie had never been a morning person and you sincerely doubted that that had changed in your years apart.

When he stirs next to you, which was possibly because he could somehow sense that you were awake, you press your lips against his collarbone. His eyes slowly open, his vision momentarily bleary, and he needs to blink a few times to uncloud his eyesight and focus on you.

“Morning,” he croaks before yawning. “Fuck, it’s too early.”

“For you maybe,” you murmur while leaving a trail of kisses from his shoulder up to his neck. “You can go back to sleep.”

“When you’re kissing me like that?” He still sounds groggy, voice low as he rubs the palm of his hand over his closed eye. “Fat chance.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you grin. When you nip at his jaw, he lazily swats a hand against your arm. “Whaaaat?”

“Tease.” Tilting his head down, your lips finally meet, morning breath be damned. “Morning.”

“Morning, handsome.” His lips freeze and you can actually hear his breathing stall as well so you push yourself up and hover over him. “Did that just elicit a response?” you tease, poking a finger in his side. “Handsome.”

“I-I-“ His cheeks flush pink and a gleeful giggle erupts from your mouth. “I just like it, okay?”

“Aw,” you coo. “Don’t be embarrassed. I think that it’s cute.” Eddie covers his face with his hands and if anything, it just made him look even more adorable. “Alright, alright, I won’t make fun of you.” He spreads his fingers so he can fix one eye on you and then you throw in a quick, “For now.”

He rolls over on his stomach very dramatically with an unnecessarily loud groan and you’re torn between teasing him some more and throwing yourself on top of him.

You do neither, opting instead for getting out of bed completely. You’re only just grabbing a pair of panties out of one of the drawers next to the bed when you hear the bed creak.

“Come back to bed,” Eddie says behind you.

You’re ready to deny his request and you probably could have done it if you hadn’t turned around to face him. The sight of Eddie Munson, butt naked, would be a view that you knew that you would never tire of.

And you already knew that you would be unable to deny him anything.

Without arguing, you joined him again, dropping the underwear on the floor where it would lay completely forgotten for the next few hours.

“No witty replies or smart comebacks?” Eddie asks while you snuggle into his side. “Nothing?” You write the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’ on his stomach and remain silent. “I’ll just enjoy the silence then.”

The silence is pleasant, not uncomfortable like it can be sometimes, instead you lay there and listen to his heartbeat and his steady breathing. He draws patterns into your skin, wherever he can reach, swirls and waves and something that you think are supposed to be leaves and flowers, like he’s painting on you with an invisible brush.

“How quickly can you pack?” His voice is the first thing that cuts through the silence, just as he’s in the process of drawing star after star onto your skin. “Just the essentials so you’ll be good for a couple days.”

“Pack? Pack what?”

“You know, clothes, toothbrush, that kind of thing.”

“I can’t just leave,” you reply as you tilt your head up to look at him. “What about the store?” Even when you had been running nothing but losses for a while now, your first thoughts were of nothing but the store.

“We can get someone to open it up while you’re away?” he offers, his brow furrowed in confusion. “You know that you won’t be able to open the store every morning when you’re living with me, right?”

A half remembered comment from last night pops into your head suddenly, of Eddie saying that you would be coming with him if he left.

“You were serious?” you blurt out suddenly.

“Was I-“ When he shifts underneath you, you move back and sit up. Eddie does the same. “You thought I wasn’t serious?” He actually looks a bit hurt and that in turn makes your heart ache, too. “I’m not the kind of guy that says stuff like that just so I can get laid. You know me.”

“I do, I do.” You start backtracking immediately, not even sure what you want to say when you open your mouth. “It’s just that I’ve been disappointed before, so I don’t know, it sounded too fanciful,” you say apologetically.

“I would never, ever, play with your feelings like that.” He sounds so sincere that you immediately take his word for it. “That Eddie is long gone. I’m so fucking serious right now.”

You avert your eyes, ashamed, feeling awfully foolish right now. You feel his fingers on your jaw and your eyelids flutter shut when he rubs circles against your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you,” he repeats. “You think that I can go back after I got a taste of you? No fucking way. You’re coming home with me and you’re staying right there while I spoil the shit out of you. Fuck, I might even buy a ring to make it official the second I- we get back.”

“Eddie.” You gasp out his name, his sudden declaration enough to make your heart skip several beats. “That sounds good to me, but maybe not make promises that you can’t keep?”

“You doubt me?” He moves so that he’s sitting on his knees on the bed, arms gestured out to you dramatically. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was stark naked, you might even call the pose somewhat chivalrous, but it just looks a bit silly right now. “You doubt the devotion of Eddie the Bard?”

“Oh god!” You smack a hand against his chest and laugh loudly. “You’re such a dork.”

“Milady, I am deadly serious.” And he looked it, too. “Honest.” He reverts back to his normal self, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest, his expression all serious. “You’re mine. I’ve known that since I was thirteen and covered in acne. I was a pussy about it before, but I’ve grown up since.”

“Barely,” you giggle. He tilts his head to the side and tries to give you his best disappointed look. “I couldn’t resist. Sorry, not sorry.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and continues, “As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me…” He presses your joined hands to your sternum and says, “Mine.” Then moves them to his chest. “Yours.”

He has the audacity to look slightly uncertain then, as if the prospect might somehow offend you, as if he was offering you something that could potentially be unwelcome and make you throw it back in his face.

“You know,” he mumbled before looking away. “If you want to, that is.”

As if you would say no.

“I want,” you reply softly, so softly that it’s barely a whisper, that he might not have heard at all, so you say it again. “I want.” And he definitely heard you that time. “Of course I do.”

His face lights back up immediately, as if millions of fireworks just went up into the sky, and he looks like he’s seconds away from screaming “REALLY?” and jumping up and down on your bed, but instead he surges forward and kisses you so hard that the two of you fall back on the mattress.

It feels like he kisses you for ages and your bodies start to move together languidly, with him growing hard against you. When he pulls away to draw in a deep breath, he gives you a dopey smile and your eyes are inexplicably drawn to that single curly lock of hair that’s draped over his forehead.

“Is that deliberate?” you ask as you flick at it with your fingers. “Do you pull that out every single day until it looks just right?”

“That’s what you want to talk about now?!”

“It’s been driving me insane since yesterday!” Eddie starts to laugh and you can feel your cheeks begin to heat up. “I’m sorry alright!”

“I’m not telling,” he chuckles. “So you’ll just have to deal with not knowing.” He sways his head from side to side and your eyes keep following the bouncing curl around as he does it. “Look at me.” You tear your eyes away from his hair with some reluctance and stare into his eyes which are as brown and warm as a mug of hot chocolate. “Mine?”

“What do you-“

“Mine?” He repeats himself a bit more sternly this time.

“Yours,” you answer. “I-I’ve always b-been yours.” You can feel your heart skipping a beat from his scrutinizing gaze. “Y-you said that I’ve had your heart for a long time, but the same thing goes for you.” You reach for one of his hands and place it over your heart like he had done yesterday. “It’s always been yours.”

Eddie looks at you as if you had just told him all the secrets of the universe, something a lot more important than a simple confession of love at least, but then his gaze turns hot and you close your eyes a split second before your lips meet again.

This time you could practically taste it, the promises, the devotion, the love. It was in every single movement of his lips against yours. You were an idiot for doubting his intentions for even one single second. How could you ever doubt him? You blame it on last night’s alcohol. It must have briefly clouded your judgment, muddying your mind and dragging up all your teenage uncertainties.

Those thoughts fade with every kiss. The way that Eddie kisses you makes it easy to forget all about your worries and doubts, tears it all down to its bare bones until it’s nothing but a boy and girl who have been denying themselves this for way too long.

There was no rush this morning, you could take it as slow as you wanted, and Eddie seems to want that as well, his movements slow as molasses in January.

His lips move away from yours, kissing and nipping down your jaw, moving against the shell of your ear where he softly murmurs, “That curl… I pull that one out on purpose every single day.”

“I knew it!”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #mar writes #mar moodboards

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thespiritoflife · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫

fandom: Outer Banks

pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!reader

warnings: no one. just fluff. cute fluff, i think. and grammatical errors! a little bit smutty. but only a little bit

summary: that idiot you are in love with, JJ Maybank, threw you into water. YOU WERE IN DRESS. you were so mad at him and you already thought that you couldn't be more angry, that it couldn't be worse than this, he confidently comes to your room, when you are in the towel.

A/N's note: it's my first time to write for this fandom, so i hope you like this. let me know, please, i will be really happy. sorry for my grammatical errors, my native language is not english and i am still trying to improve my english, so really sorry! feel free to tell me where i made a mistake, i'll appreciate it! thank you :)

"Maybank! I will kill you!" you screamed at him, your face was red.

That idiot instead of helping you just laughed and laughed. And his friends too.

Pissed, you came out of the water IN A WET WHITE DRESS. That idiot just threw you in the water. In white dress. Because you didn't want to go in the water. And he? He simply did this.

"Hey. Y/N! Where are you going?" he yelled at you as you angrily walked off the beach.

"Are you really asking?" you told him back and showed him your middle finger. He laughed again. At the same time, you noticed how his eyes widened when he noticed how your wet clothes were sticking to your body. You rolled your eyes.

When you found yourself in your apartment, you sighed. Maybank was an idiot. And you were in love with that idiot.

It's a shame that he only thought of you as a friend. Although.. sometimes you got the feeling that he liked you. Like now, for example. When he undressed you by looking at you coming out of the water.

JJ was still looking at Y/N's sexy back when John punched him. "When are you going to do it?"

JJ looked innocently. "What?"

“When are you going to stop being an idiot?" Kiara finished.

And she continued. "Man up! Tell her you like her and that's it. Don't act like a little boy," she took a sip of her beer.

John agreed. "Yeah."

JJ felt like he wanted to disagree.. but damn, they were right. He acted like a jerk. He had liked Y/N for a long time, but he didn't know how to let her know. So he did the worst, of course. He acted like a young boy, no wonder she was irritated with him most of the time.

That's why he was surprised when he heard himself: "I'm going to her."

Kiara stood up. "Jeez. Not so fast. She's still showering."

"It's been 10 minutes. She must have finished her shower,"

"But."

JJ cut her off. "Ugh, women. So do you want me to go to her or what?"

John supported him. "Go. Until you change your mind."

JJ smirked and went to Y/N.

You were in the shower for a long time. You thought about everything. About JJ. Why was he such an idiot? You sighed. You turned off the water and wrapped yourself in a towel.

It's time to get dressed...

Except a goddamn JJ was sitting on YOUR bed.

"Maybank!" you screamed for the second time today. You wanted to run away but he stopped you.

"Why did you take so long in the shower? I've been waiting for you here forever!" he shouted.

"Shut up! At least let me change, you jerk!"

“I hate you,” you growled.

"No! I refuse to wait any longer. Sit down!" he grabbed your hand and you sat down on the bed next to him. IN A TOWEL.

He smirked and tucked your hair behind your ear. "But you love me too."

Now you were shocked. "Wha.. what did you say?"

JJ was SO confident. He looked at you, at your body, and licked his lips. He leaned in and kissed you.

You didn't want to kiss him. Seriously. He was an idiot. But.. cute idiot. So you leaned over to him and kissed him back. And it was amazing. You knew JJ was an amazing kisser because you heard almost all the girls bragging about his kisses. They called him the kiss thief. And he was.

He suddenly stopped kissing you. You sighed in disappointment.

“Y/N, princess, I'm sorry for being a jerk.

You smirked. "Yeah, you should be."

You tried not to laugh. He looked like he was sorry. And you already felt sorry for him.

"Look, Maybank, you can undo it."

"With what?"

"With this," and you kissed him yourself, feeling Maybank smile in the kisses. "It will be my pleasure, princess."

#jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank smut #outer banks imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfic #outer banks x reader #outer banks oneshot #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank x you #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader

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belovedblabber · 2 years

Text

Ok time to make my hopefully coherent adjacent post about the whole ‘John made Alecto look like Barbie’ thing. Also this goes out to @opticor and @2impostors for the interest in my semi-coherent thoughts on this topic.

I’ve seen people reading it as like ‘wow John took the soul of the earth and made her look like Barbie what a typical dude thing to do’ and personally I don’t at all vibe with that reading of it so now I am turning some rambly tags I made into a proper post.

I’m going to start by posting a crappily highlighted passage, as is my wont:

I think one aspect of this that people misconstrue is “I wanted to make you the most beautiful body I could think of.” I think a lot of people are taking this as beautiful=sexy=John is super gross and wanted to make the earth a sexy hot Barbie body.

However, I very much read this as John, who loved the earth so much, wanting to make a beautiful vessel for the earth’s soul. I don’t think ‘sexy’ is the right way to interpret this one. There’s a big ol’ gulf between that ‘beautiful’ and the way people seem to be reading it as ‘sexy.’ Now is there a lot to unpack and think about in all of this? Yes. Is it ‘John is gross and made Alecto sexy because he’s gross and gave her the classic sexy lady body of Barbie?’ No.

And also very key here is “Most of what had made me John had gone somewhere else. There were a few little thoughts left...a handful of things that made me me...”

I think it’s really worth keeping in mind here that in this moment John was barely holding onto anything of himself and thus turned to one of the few things he had left to grab at, aka a childhood memory of playing at his grandma’s house. And more specifically of playing with his mom’s old Barbie:

He was eating the soul of the earth and barely holding onto his own identity and personhood and turned to one of the few scraps of himself that remained. His memory of playing with his mom’s old Barbie as a kid was one of the few things he had left in that moment, and that was what his fragmented mind reached out to and grabbed onto as something beautiful. The way he talks about the Hollywood Hair Barbie is also very deeply not in the realm of like, ‘wow Barbie is so sexy and I wanted to make the earth sexy’ sdfghjk. He talks about her “little gold outfit and her long yellow hair.” He thinks she was “the best,” and “got to have all the adventures.” Sorry but this really doesn’t read as ‘ah yes Barbie, the sexiest of women. A doll I lusted over’ asdfghj.

In a moment of almost completely losing his personhood and identity, John reached out to that memory and that very childlike love for something he’d found beautiful, and that was what his mind held onto.

John is also very notably defensive about the fact that this was what he chose for Alecto. He seems to view this as something embarrassing. He’s not bragging about making a sexy body, he’s sort of self-consciously trying to explain why his torn to shreds mind grabbed at that form.

When he made Alecto he wasn’t thinking in any coherent fashion. His broken mind was grabbing at his most basic, simple memories to find something beautiful. He wanted to give her a vessel that could have pretty yellow hair and have all the adventures.

Also ngl I really don’t see ‘I loved playing with my mom’s old Barbie and having her go on adventures and I loved her pretty hair and her golden outfit’ as a typical dude thing.

Like there is certainly a lot to think about vis a vis John’s view of himself as creator, and in how he also compares her to a Christmas tree fairy, a Renaissance angel, Adam and Eve, and Galatea. He evokes all of these when describing her, not just Barbie (and he also calls her “Frankenstein’s monster with long yellow hair.”) I think there is a TON to think over and discuss with all of that. (The relevant passage for those comparisons is on pg. 409 of NtN for the record). But yeah, there is a lot to analyze in the things he evokes in describing his act of creation (for one I find it interesting that not all of them are ‘female,’ so to speak). There’s a lot to think about in terms of how he gave parts of himself to make her ( “I ripped half of my ribs from my body and made you from dirt, my blood, my vomit, my bone.” (pg. 408), and in him choosing to frame himself as creator, and as creator in a distinctly biblical way (the ribs being an obvious call to this). The reference to Galatea is also its own interesting thing. But anyway, John made her body from himself and oh boy is there a lot there but okay this paragraph is threatening to become too long, so I need to leave this topic for now and come back to it later in its own post sdfghj.

ANYWAY, all of this is to say that I really think interpreting John’s creation of Alecto’s physical form as a ‘typical dude thing, he wanted to make her sexy and picked Barbie, the most basic ideal of womanhood’ is a reading that really misses the mark.

Annnnd that’s all from me tonight, time to go to bed.

#the locked tomb #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #john gaius #alecto the ninth #ntn #ntn spoilers #tlt #the locked tomb series #alecto

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coppoladelrey · 1 year

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Cherry

A/N: I took inspiration from Lana Del Rey’s song called Cherry, I hope you guys like it. The fic is a little out there, but I love AUs and I don’t think I’ve seen one of those around. (If you know any, send them my way. I’d love to read other AUs with our favourite momma’s boy.) Please let me know what you think, as I said it’s kinda out there, even if it’s to tell me that it’s sucked lol.

Summary: You were obsessed with your History Professor, what you didn’t know was that he was obsessed with you as well.

Professor!Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: smut, power imbalance (?), dub con (but not really?), unprotected sex (I mean it’s a fic, don’t do this IRL), a bit of angst and fluff, Minors DNI.

Tag List: @aemonds-war-crime.

Masterlist

His voice was angelic, nothing could distract you from him. Professor Aemond was your history professor, Roman history was his field. You didn't need to be here, you were in STEM but you love History so you took it as an elective. It was so wrong, but you were lusting after your History Professor. You remember clear as day the first day you saw him.

You were excited about your history lesson, Roman history fascinated you that’s why you were sitting on the first row you couldn’t wait for this. There was only you and another boy in the class, which was about to start in 20 minutes. You decided to begin to do your homework from one of your classes, it was easy enough, you’d never admit that to anyone else but you were one of the smartest people in the university.

People started coming in but you paid no mind, you were in the zone and your homework was almost finished. You didn't realize that the Professor just came through the door, your pen was in your mouth and your brows were furrowed in concentration. The Professor noticed you, wearing a short skirt, tights and a turtleneck, you looked delicious but Aemond had a reputation to uphold. He was in front of you now but you didn't notice it, everyone was now looking at you.

You heard laughter from the people that shared your class, you looked up and you saw who you assumed was the Professor, he was wearing all black and he had an eye patch and scar which made him look sexy. His face was as if it was carved by God himself, his hands were behind his back and his facial expression was stern, you quickly sat up straight and closed your laptop. He kept looking at you which you only could as contempt for a few more seconds and went back to his desk.

“I am Professor Aemond Targaryen, to simply put any potential rumours at rest,” He pointed at the eye patch. “This was an unfortunate hunting accident with my nephew Luke, and my eye could not be saved.” Aemond preferred to get the story out of the way because he knew how students can get curious. “Now let’s start the class.”

The class went smoothly after that, and you were sure that his voice was going to be ingrained in your mind, it was smooth and sultry. Professor Aemond looked at you every ten minutes, not enough to raise suspicions but enough to make you aware that you were being watched. Aemond was a great professor, he didn't like to brag but it was true.

It was almost time for the class to be finished, everyone was getting their belongings in their bags, including you. That’s when Aemond decided to speak.

“I must speak with you, Miss.” His voice was stern, it left no room for argument. Your classmates were snickering and feeling sorry for you, after everyone else left you went to his table.

“I do not appreciate that kind of dismissive behaviour in my class, miss?” You said your full name and Aemond appreciated the sound of your voice.

“I apologise, Professor. I was twenty minutes early, so I decided to finish one of my assignments but I’ll take this class very seriously.” Aemond simply hummed and dismissed you with his hand, you went back to your seat and he appreciated the sway of your hips, you hurried out of class.

You were roommates with a girl called Ellie, she was a sophomore while you were a junior. It was a bit unsettling how much she knew about everyone’s lives, it was as if she had eyes everywhere. If a professor had issues either with family, or drugs she knew about it. It wasn’t a surprise when you were back to your dorm, she already knew that you had a mishap with professor Aemond.

“What did you do? What did the professor hottie say?” To be completely honest you were surprised that she didn't know what the two of you talked about.

“I got in the zone and didn't see him come in, she got angry and wanted to talk to me.” Ellie knew how you could get when you were concentrated, she never met anyone as dedicated as you to your studies. You didn't drink, you didn't party, your parents were poor, and you were on a scholarship you couldn’t afford a mistake, unlike Ellie.

“Be careful next time, he has a reputation.” Her statement confused you.

“What reputation?”

“He doesn’t forgive mistakes, of any kind. If you mess up in his class you are out, I’m surprised that you’re still allowed.” Ellie was eyeing you suspiciously, she hasn’t known you that long so her opinion of you wasn’t formed yet.

“He didn't say that I could come back.” Now you were worried, even though you didn't need to take this class, you loved Roman History it’d be awful to be kicked out for an innocent mistake.

“HA! Trust me, he would make it clear that you were out of his class. People say that he loves making his students squirm and cry more than anything.” Ellie left you, she needed to go meet with her boyfriend.

You didn't get that impression from the professor, sure he was stern but he wasn’t mean to anyone. You decided to not let Ellie’s words taint professor Aemond in your mind, you were going to make your judgement of him. Looking at the clock you realised that you were late for your next class.

__________________________________________

Your next History class was the next week, and your mind was plagued with thoughts of your mysterious professor, his voice was in your dreams as well as himself.

“Oh, professor.” You moaned, hands tangled in his long silver hair.

“Come for me, kitten.” He whispered, his tongue assaulting your clit most deliciously.

Before you could reach your high, you were jolted awake. Ellie was trying to wake you up, you had a thin layer of sweat, your breathing was ragged and you could tell that you were uncomfortably aroused looking down at your sheets you could see a small spot of your juices.

“I’m not gonna lie, hearing you moan like was hot as fuck.” You rolled your eyes at Ellie, ever since she found out that you weren’t that comfortable talking about sex she made it her mission to embarrass you with lewd comments, which she claimed was for your good. “Were you dreaming about me?” The two of you started laughing, she gave you some hot chocolate from Starbucks.

“You wish.”

“Seriously though, who you were dreaming about?” Ellie loved to know everyone’s secrets, you tried to be as guarded as possible in front of her.

“No one in particular.” You sounded convincing enough, only because Ellie didn't know you well enough.

“Fair enough.” She shrugged, Ellie left you alone for now.

You went to take a shower, and the warm water hitting your breasts made you think about your dream with professor Aemond. Your hands travelled to your nipples, they were extremely sensitive making you whimper. The images of Aemond between your legs came into your mind, his hungry look as if he would devour you. One of your hands went to your clit, you were teasing yourself the same way you believe that Aemond would tease you.

You started to make quick and small circles on your clit, you never got so close to your orgasm so quickly before. You were trying to keep quiet, the familiar tightening of your stomach was the alert that you needed that your orgasm was closer.

“Fuck.” It was one of the most intense orgasms that you ever had, and it was thanks to professor Aemond.

You just masturbated to the thought of your professor, how you we're going to look him in the eye?

________________________________

Back to the class, you were back in the same spot, everyone seemed surprised that you were back. You learned from your mistake so you were simply waiting for professor Aemond to come in class. Aemond entered the class, he stopped to look at you and he simply smirked and kept going.

The class was incredible, he knew how to explain things so well. Hearing his voice was making you aroused again, you were crossing your legs. You were uncomfortably wet, the sound of his voice was making you remember your dream and the orgasm from earlier today. But you were paying attention throughout the whole class.

After the class was over you had too many things to gather, so you were the last one in class. You loved your pleated skirts, and you were wearing one Aemond was ogling you admiring your curves he felt like a pervert like his brother, he had many affairs with his students, and nothing was ever proven but Aemond knew the truth. Not even once he felt lust for any of his students but you were so different, you were sexy yet with an air of innocence.

“Are you enjoying my class, miss?” You were startled, Aemond was incredibly close and you didn't notice him coming closer to you.

“Very much, you are great, Professor.” Your smile was so sincere, Aemond wasn’t used to real compliments only empty platitudes.

“I noticed that you were quite squirmish during my class.” Your breathing was caught in your throat, Aemond was getting even closer to you. “Do I make you uncomfortable, pet?” He whispered the last word so close to your ear, Aemond knew that he could be fired for doing this but he knew how to read people, and you were the easiest one to read.

“No, professor.” His eye was violet, you’ve never seen eyes that colour it was gorgeous.

“Hmmm.” His hand went to your hair, and he moved it out of the way. “Good, I’d hate to make one of my greatest students uncomfortable, pet.” You could feel his breathing on your cheek, and just like that, he was far away from you. “I’ll see you next week, pet.” With that, he leaves the classroom, really aroused and confused.

__________________________________

You were utterly obsessed with your professor, you were dreaming about seeing him all week touching yourself every night at the thought of Aemond Targaryen. The worst part of it was that after the second class, he was completely ignoring you. The professor made you lust after him even more and Aemond knew what he was doing, he loved watching you squirm. He purposefully got closer to you whilst he was reading and also during the lecture, but when he saw that you were too flustered he left you.

Once the class was finished you stayed behind, you wanted to talk to your professor but you had no idea what to say. Aemond knew the effect he had on you, just not the extent of it.

“Hi, professor.” Aemond didn't look up to you, he was grading papers.

“Yes, miss?” He seemed annoyed at you, and it made you feel uneasy.

“I’d like some extra credit, I was wondering if you’d like an assistant?” You were so nervous, maybe being as far as possible from professor Aemond but you couldn’t your body yearned for him.

“I must admit that I’ve never taken an assistant before, but there’s a first time for everything.” He stopped grading the papers and grabbed a piece of paper, he started writing something. “My address, you can help me grade my papers. Since you’re my best student, pet.” Heat spread across your face, you loved when he called you that.

“Your house?” You asked incredulously, you assumed that you’d meet in his office.

“My apartment. You don’t want the job, pet?” He was smirking, taunting you. This was the ultimate proof if you refused Aemond would not pursue you ever again. But if you accept it, it was the point of no return his passion would consume you.

“No, what time should I get there?” You tried not to sound too excited, but you were excited.

“9 PM.” His face held nothing, it was another test but you were ready you wanted him.

“I’ll be there.”

You left his class and Aemond was admiring your ass, unabashedly. Aemond was obsessed with you, he tried to find women that looked like you but something was missing, they didn't have the innocent air that you did. He couldn’t wait to see you without the prying eyes of the people from the university.

________________________________________

You were getting ready to get to Aemond’s apartment, you decided to take Coco Chanel’s advice and went for the little black dress. You put on tights and boots, you decided not to put on makeup it might’ve been too much. Ellie entered the bedroom and gasped when she saw you.

“Damn, you look so fucking, hot babe.” Having Ellie as a roommate was a huge confidence booster, she was always complimenting you.

“You think so?” You looked at yourself again in the mirror, you did feel hot.

“Fuck yeah, look at your ass. This date might make you forget about your huge crush on your hot professor.” You widened your eyes, she was laughing at you. “I have to admit you kept your crush hidden for so long but you slipped up, moaning his name one night.” Ellie was loving every second of it, she wanted to figure you out but it was difficult.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” You didn't want to get ridiculed or even worse, the dean to find out and fire Aemond and expel you.

“Of course not, your secret’s safe with me.” Ellie winked at you and smacked your ass. You laughed at her antics, she was a good friend to you most of the time. “Hope you get fucked good tonight.” You heard the horn from the car outside, it was probably her boyfriend.

“I hope so too.” You whispered to yourself.

You entered your used car and you typed Aemond’s address on your phone, it was half an hour away from campus. You were nervous and super excited, you were lucky that it wasn’t snowing right now. Getting to his apartment complex, there was a security booth before you can get there.

“Good evening, who are you here to see?” The man stated through the speaker.

“I’m here for pro…Aemond Targaryen.” You didn't want people finding out that you were his student, the two of you could get in so much trouble. You assumed the man was calling Aemond to confirm that he was waiting for you.

“Come in.” The gate was opened and you entered the apartment complex, it was simply luxurious. You had an idea that Aemond came from money but you didn't know the extent of it.

You left your car and walked to the reception room, there was a receptionist inside.

“Number, please?” The polite man asked, you gave Aemond’s apartment number and the man guided you to the elevator. He pressed the button and left you in the elevator. When it started you felt your palms getting even more sweaty, you were so nervous being alone with your professor.

The doors opened and you were surprised to see a living room, Aemond was nowhere to be found. You decided to look around, the decor was made by a bachelor. Grey and black were the main colours, there weren’t many photos but you found one. It was him and you guessed his siblings and an older man who you assumed to be his father, he looked amazing in the photo. You moved to another photo, it was him and an older woman she looked too young to be his mother but they had the same eyes even if they weren’t the same colour.

“Aren’t you a curious little thing?” His deep voice startled you, for the first time you saw Aemond in a colour other than black, he was wearing a white shirt and grey sweatpants you felt overdressed.

“I’m sorry, professor.” It was rude what you were doing, but you couldn’t help yourself there was so little that you about him as a person, despite lusting for him for months.

“Do not apologise.” He came closer to you, his chest was touching your back and his cock was touching your ass, it made you gasp.

“This is my mother, her name is Alicent. You’d like her.” Aemond put his hand on your thigh, you didn't stop him. “Those are my siblings and grandfather.” He inhaled your scent, to him it was intoxicating.

“Your father?” You whispered, afraid to move, afraid that if you moved an inch this moment would be over.

“We shouldn’t spoil this moment with such an unpleasant topic, pet.” That was a warning, he didn't like his father, you concluded. “I adore this dress on your form.” Aemond’s hand was close and yet so far from your pussy. Suddenly he gets away from you, it was as if this moment never happened.

“Shall we start grading the papers?” You couldn’t see it but Aemond had the biggest smirk on his face, he was taunting you, gauging your reaction.

You were getting really tired of this game, you wanted him. You took a deep breath and decided to release him as well, two could play this game. You walked towards him, which made Aemond turn around, when he did he could see your perfect tits due to your cleavage. His eye was trained on them, how much he wanted to play with them, to fuck them, to bite them.

“Yes, professor.” You whispered in the sultriest voice you could muster, Aemond was a master of disguising his emotions but you saw his adam’s apple moving, you got him. “I simply want to thank you for this incredible opportunity, I don’t know how to thank you for it.” You started to trace patterns on his chest, and you got even closer to him.

Aemond seemed speechless he didn't think that his little pet could be so forward, he was enjoying playing with food but this was a welcomed change. He put his lips right on the shell of your ear, goosebumps could be felt all over your body.

“You could start by getting on your knees, pet.” Aemond took a step back, he wanted to see what you would do. You obeyed him, you quickly fell on your knees in front of him. His hand went to your face, caressing it. “Good girl.” You basked in his praise, you wanted to hear it all the time to make him happy, and proud of you. “This is where you belong, isn’t it? On your knees for me.” You simply nodded, ever since you saw him for the first time there was a pull you yearned for him, and he yearned for you.

You could see that his cock was hard, and you were hungry for it. You took bold action and decided to pull his sweatpants down, it was a glorious sight to behold. His cock was massive, by far the biggest one you’ve laid eyes upon. It should’ve intimidated you but it only made you hungrier for it, you looked at him and his hand was still caressing your face, his eye held the same lust and hunger yours did. Aemond slapped you, not hard but enough to get you even wetter, you’ve never had this before, no one ever slapped you and it felt amazing.

After you recovered from the shock and arousal from his hand colliding to your face you started licking the head of cock, Aemond’s hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, head falling back. Without warning you put his cock in your mouth, as much as you could, his groans were fuel for you to take him deeper, you started gagging but Aemond kept you there with his hands.

“That’s it, I’m gonna fuck your throat.” Tears were gathering in your eyes but you didn't care, you wanted to please him. Aemond started guiding your head, he was hitting the back of your throat and you’d never thought that being throatfucked would get you so aroused.

Suddenly Aemond removes his cock from your mouth completely, he gets you up with ease you didn't think he’d be so strong. He wiped the tears off your face and he kissed you. It was nothing like you experienced before, he was being incredibly gentle and soft. The kiss held passion, and lust but also tenderness. Aemond grabbed your ass, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed both of your legs and wrapped them around his waist, and he walked towards his bedroom. Once you were inside his bedroom the two of you stopped kissing to get some air, and he looked gorgeous, his lips were red and puffy from kissing you. You removed yourself from his waist, and it seemed as if he was calculating his next move. If he had sex with you, there was no going back from it, and Aemond was okay with that.

“Are you terribly attached to this dress, pet?” When you shook your head, Aemond ripped your dress from your body exposing the black lingerie that you were wearing.

“Aemond!” You gasped in outrage and also shock, how could he rip a dress so effortlessly? “What I’m gonna wear to go home?” You didn't want to leave, but you didn't want to assume anything either.

“Who told you that you are allowed to leave, pet?” You bit your lip at his statement, which made you feel butterflies. It was Friday, you could stay here all weekend if he allowed you to. “I must devour you first.” With that Aemond dropped you on the bed, the way that he was looking at you it seemed that he was going to devour you, a predator stalking its prey.

He removed your panties with ease and brought them to his nose and he took a deep breath. That was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life, Aemond had a smirk on his face.

“I barely touched you and you are drenched, pet.” He put your legs around his neck, you could feel his breathing on your exposed cunt. “Tell me, are you always like this in my classes? Absolutely drenched in your own juices?” Before you could answer him, you felt his tongue on your clit. It felt heavenly, you moaned, maybe louder than you should have. His movements were good but not enough, his teasing was becoming too much. “Answer me, pet.” How could he possibly want you to form a coherent thought in this state that he put you in?

“Yes, you were all that you could think about professor.” Your hands went to his hair, his movements were getting quicker, and you realised what he wanted. “I dreamed about you after your first class, and I touched myself almost every night at the thought of you.” You were proud of yourself for being able to form a coherent thought.

His movements were getting quicker and quicker, his tongue was circling your clit with speed and precision. Aemond brought his fingers and inserted only one of them inside you.

“Such a tight little cunt, pet. You taste like the sweetest cherry.” Aemond felt you squeezing his finger, he started to hit your magic spot inside you. He was looking at the pleasure on your face, you were a sight to behold, eyes rolling at the back of your head, your mouth in the perfect ‘o’ shape, you were a thing of beauty. Aemond had only one goal in his mind at this moment and he was going to get it, he inserted one more finger and picked up the speed. You arched your back, moaning, almost screaming. He started using his other hand to draw quick and tight circles around your clit.

Something was wrong, in the midst of all of the infinite pleasure that you were feeling the urge to pee came in full force, and you were cursing your body for such terrible timing.

“Aemond, stop.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, if Aemond wasn’t so fixed on watching your every move, he wouldn’t have heard it. But he didn't stop, Aemond was going even faster, you didn't know how that was possible. “I’m gonna pee on you.” You didn't want to admit that, but Aemond left you no choice.

“You’re not going to pee, my little pet. Let go for me.” Aemond kissed your inner thigh as if he had the ultimate control of your body you had the most intense orgasm of your life, you were screaming and Aemond loved every second of it. You squirted, hard. Aemond was devouring every single drop, you were out of it for a few minutes he was helping you ride out your orgasm.

That’s when you felt a cold sensation on your ass, you propped yourself on your elbows and you saw the mess that you made. You were mortified, you peed on the bed of your professor when you looked at Aemond you only saw the hungry look in his eye and his chin was glistening with your juices, you had to admit that was so erotic when he saw the panicked look on your face Aemond only smirked.

“You simply squirted, pet. And I loved every second of it.” Before you could process his words, Aemond was on top of you. He was all-consuming and incredibly intense, you’ve never met anyone like him before.

Aemond aligned his cock at your entrance, he was about to claim you as his. He was met with some resistance but he was able to bury himself deep inside your cunt, Aemond gave some time to adjust to his massive size.

“You are even tighter than I could have possibly imagined, pet.” Aemond was looking deep inside your eyes, the moment felt incredibly intimate his eye held softness. His hand was caressing your cheek and you lined into his touch.

Aemond started moving at a slow pace, you could feel his cock hitting your cervix but it was sensual and slow, not what you were expecting from Aemond. He never broke eye contact, you were moaning and he was groaning, your bodies were connected and you felt as if he could see your soul. Aemond kissed you, the same passion and softness that he was thrusting put on the kiss. You felt overwhelmed, and before you could stop yourself you felt tears running down your face to his silk pillow. Aemond wiped your tears with his thumb, no words were exchanged but it wasn’s necessary.

You could feel another orgasm approaching, that’s when Aemond picked up his pace he wanted to cum with you. Again no words were spoken only moans and grunts, you could feel Aemond’s thrusts getting sloppy, he was getting close to his orgasm.

“Cum with me.” You whispered and that was what triggered your simultaneous orgasms, Aemond put his head at the crook of your neck trying to pick up his breath. Your hands were on his back, and suddenly you felt incredibly tired you wanted to stay awake but you body didn't allow you, sleep came like a freight train.

When Aemond removed his head from the crook of your neck, he realised that you were already asleep. With all the care in the world, Aemond removed his softening cock from your pussy that’s when he saw both of your juices on your pussy and a little bit on your inner thighs. He went to his bathroom and grabbed a warm and soft towel, he cleaned you and then himself and he went to sleep right next to you.

_______________________________

You woke up disoriented and very thirsty, and Aemond was nowhere to be found. When you looked at the watch you thought that you were mistaken, was it 2:37 PM? You went to the bathroom and you peed, after you left the bathroom you realised that your dress was torn apart on the floor. You found the shirt that Aemond was wearing last night and you put it on your body, inhaled its scent you left the bedroom.

Aemond was cooking something for you to eat, it smelled divine. He was in the kitchen with only his grey sweatpants, you could see his muscled back and arms, he looked heavenly.

“Good morning.” Aemond turned around to see you, hair messy with his shirt on and still sleepy he has never seen a more beautiful sight.

“How did you sleep?” Aemond left his kitchen and came around to kiss you, his hand went to your face.

“Well.” There an elephant in the room that neither of you wanted to address, but it needed to be discussed so Aemond decided to be the brave one.

“If you couldn’t discern from my actions last night, I want to pursue a relationship with you.” Aemond was holding your hand, he couldn’t bear to look at you and see the rejection or even worse, humour on your face.

“There’s nothing else that I’d like more.” He was stunned by your answer but kissed you, this kiss was deeper more lust than softness.

“That is a relief, I hope you like…” Aemond was interrupted by the ding on the elevator, there was only one person that had permission to enter his house without being announced and he didn't want this meeting to happen in such circumstances.

“Aemond, your father is calling me to let you know that…” Alicent stopped talking once she saw you and her son, holding hands and you wearing his shirt. “I apologise, I should have called but you know how your father is.” She decided to act as if this was a normal occurrence, seeing her son’s girlfriend in nothing but his shirt. “I’m Alicent, Aemond’s mother and what is your name dear?” You told Alicent your name and she smiled brightly at you, Aemond was right you did like her.

“Mother, I am not going to visit him. He has his precious daughter by his side.” Aemond’s tone held nothing but venom, you felt as if you were intruding. When you tried to leave, he held you in place, arms around your waist and kissing your temple. Despite the circumstances, Alicent loved seeing her son so happy the fact that you were the one bringing him happiness made her like you instantly.

“He wants all of his children in his death bed, Haleana is there as well.” Aemond scoffed, his sister was too lovely to reject a dying man’s wish. He was happy that Aegon and Daeron weren’t there either. “Well, I tried. You know where he is in case you change your mind.” Alicent kissed his cheek and looked at him, she then looked at you and caressed your arm. “It was lovely to meet you, love.” With that Alicent left the apartment.

Aemond didn't let go of you, many emotions were running through his head.

“I think you should go.” You spoke after minutes of silence.

“Why?” Aemond wasn’t judging your words, he was curious to know your reasoning.

“When someone hurts us, it’s important to have closure. Even if it’s yell, if he dies without you talking about your trauma it might be worse in the future. Get your closure and that way moving on is easier.” He knew that you were right, it was something that Haleana talked to him about many times. She was a better person, she was able to forgive the years of neglect and abuse but Aemond couldn’t there were things that he needed to say.

“Alright, I’ll go there.” Aemond kissed your cheek. “But you are coming with me, pet.” It was an unconventional way to start a relationship but you wanted this, you wanted Aemond body and soul.

“Okay.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #prince aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #modern au #professor!aemond #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction

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shywritersblog · 6 months

Text

Here are 100 random quotes from Asmodeus!

Sourced from the OM! Wiki, chats, devilgram, screenshots I found, etc. I made this list to help with studying to write the characters in character. (Not really proofread, sorry if there are mistakes. Also, there may be spoilers. If so, they're minor spoilers)

✧༺⚜️༻✧

“Oh, my ♡ MC, you little minx! Are you trying to show off my lovely legs to the entire Devildom?”

“But the question is whether you really mean what you say. Maybe if I reach in, pull out your heart, tear it open, and have a look inside I'd know for sure?”

“Then let's stay like this. Mm... Your neck feels soft, MC…”

“I can't believe you would actually imply I was a pervert! I only wanted to give MC something pleasant to look at.”

“Anyway MC, why don't you go ahead and take off your clothes so the two of us can enjoy a nice bath together.”

“Asmo's special cutie-pie kiss! Mwah ♡”

“But now I feel alive again, sitting in here with you drinking nice, warm cocoa.”

“Yoo-hoo, little ghosties ♡ Go on, feast your eyes upon me..!”

“Ugh, it's so dark in here! I can't take it... It's just so EXCITING!”

“You must be curious to know just how wonderful a punishment can be...”

“I'd have to say I'm most afraid of... me!”

“Since you're so adorable, I'll lock you up in my own little love jail so you'll be all mine ♡ So, don't be shy. Come here, Darling.”

“Oh, be careful around my ankles, would you? Too much pressure will ruin my perfect legs.”

“I'm hopeless at this kind of stuff since I've never lifted anything heavier than a facial massager.”

“To be honest, I was hoping to drive you mad with desire! That was my eventual goal, at least...”

“Hehe. Can't move? Aww, look how good you're being! Now, you stay just like that, okay...”

“In other words, I want you to be my plaything from now on, so I'm never bored ♡”

“Ugh, I'm so dizzy..! MC’s the only one who can save frail little Princess Asmo!”

“Oh, while we're at it why not take a video? For your exclusive viewing pleasure, of course ♡”

“I mean, I suppose I could put on a little show for you...but it won't be cheap.”

“..What? Are you stupid? Is your eyesight just that bad? Do those eyes of yours even work, or are they just there for decoration?”

“You want to do whatever you can to make me happy, because I'm worth it.”

“Hehe, now look what I've done. I got so excited that I pushed you down onto your back! Sorry!”

“Help, MC! There's a demon staring at me like he's gonna eat me!”

“And that means something coming from someone as ridiculously beautiful as me. I don't really say it to anyone other than you, you know?”

“I mean, I'm adorable. Doesn't it just tickle your protective instincts?”

“You're so cute. When I look at you, I can tell what's going through your head, even if you don't actually say it. That's right.”

“I'm sorry for being so beautiful that even confinement suits me! Then again, I always knew I was fated to be the captive damsel in distress...”

“Like, first I imagine a beautiful man and a beautiful woman. And then I picture us doing ALL sorts of naughty things to each other!”

“And then they had to do the walk of shame! ♡”

“Oh, you might be right! The runny makeup look can be kind of sexy!”

“I'll go ahead and watch you. Just in case you have any trouble changing clothes.”

“Hmmm? Like what? Mammon, you'd better get your mind out of the gutter ♡”

“I mean, here I am, right next to you, still wet from my bath. You really don't feel anything?”

“I guess that means I'M GOING TO HAVE TO KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU...!”

“Ugh, I'm ready to die of boredom! So, come on! Dance for me. I can't wait to see what you can do!”

“That's our sexy Solomon ♡ See, I knew you could do it if you tried!”

“Really, you're just flowers. Listen to you bragging about how beautiful you are...it's kind of embarrassing.”

“Ooh, are you trying to figure out where WE should go on a romantic getaway?! Aw, muffin! You don't need to beat around the bush for that kind of thing! You can be honest!”

“Huh? You're my little dove from earlier, aren't you? MC, was it?”

“That's probably my pheromones ♡”

“You're the best, MC! Your dazzling smile has the power to woo every demon in the Devildom ♡”

“Whaaat, you're still alive? Well that's boring...”

“But first, I want you to know exactly what it is that threatens to rend a delicate heart such as mine to ribbons. So be sure to pay attention, love. Nothing makes me angrier than being ignored. Truly.”

“All of the eyes are on me, I charmed all of them! Just look at me! It's a sin to be this perfect!”

“Mmmfm… gonna take everyone prisoner… mm...”

“When I first heard that we'd be shooting each other with squirt guns and getting wet, I found the whole thing kind of stupid. But it also involved coming up with plans to drive your opponents into a corner and anticipating their moves... which I found pretty enjoyable.”

“If I were like Lord Diavolo, I could have any demon or human I wanted.”

“Aaaah, this is where I belong. Sitting on a throne!”

“Surely, tempting humans is what demons are all about?”

“And next time, you're welcome to be even bolder. I want your scent all over my clothes.”

“Oh my gosh! Even from behind, I am such a snack!”

“Ooh, I know exactly what you mean! It's like, you can't help but want to lie down together on a bed or a sofa and do all sorts of naughty things-“

“Butlers, you see...their services extend into the night, as well.”

“Aaah, I've never tried rope play before, but I think I like it ♡”

“That's a rather...traditional approach. I would've just seduced him.”

“There's just something nice about being completely overpowered and brought to submission like that, you know?!”

“Right now, I'm totally hooked on this exercise where I blow up balloons to strengthen my facial muscles. Do you wanna give it a try?”

“Filth? You should know that eroticism is a valid form of art.”

“I mean, I wrapped him in chains like you said, but l've got such soft, beautiful, tender hands. They aren't suited for such a rough job. Really, you should've known that…”

“Hehe. Lies are like accessories, hun.”

“But, I'd sure feel better if you came and comforted me. I mean, I'm aaaaall alone in my room right now. If you don't come over, I'll probably start crying on account of how lonely I am.”

“Let's meet in my room when the party is over. We can have our very own Valentine's Day afterparty, just the two of us ♡”

“I'm in desperate need of stimulation to my senses!”

“To think that even Mister Stiff and Serious Angel here is feeling his heart skip a beat...I love it! ♡”

“What the movie lacks is sexiness! Shall we add more revealing scenes, like me in a swimsuit?”

“...Ummm, is this some sort of joke? You look like a chicken in heat.”

“Oh, but with you it's different, MC! I only want to do your nails as an excuse to flirt ♡”

“Oh, how exciting! Better get back snug under the covers and wait for my impending arousal ♡”

“Yes, I do. I love butts!”

“It would be ideal if we were both au naturel, honestly...”

“Ahh, I feel so graceful when i'm shooting ♡”

“I left a dying message with lipstick, so you better catch the culprit!”

“Guess I'll just have to come over and shake things up for you ♪”

“See, I just knew you'd say that! Because we're obviously an extra-compatible super couple!”

“I'd love to. I'll make you look so good, you'll be drooling over yourself.”

“..No one will know if I take a single muffin, right? I'll just grab one while they're not looking. Yoink! ♡”

“Oh yeah, Satan is totally the type to start with the tongue first!”

“Look out, or I'll tear you to bits with my sharp claws!”

“Apologize? Me? I'm sorry, but I'm not quite sure why you'd want me to do that. I mean, true, I suppose an entire country was destroyed in the end, but how could I have known that would happen, hm?”

“Drastic times call for drastic measures. Step aside, boys my sexy dance is about to begin...!”

“Hehe. Trying to butter me up, are you? Tell me, what are you hoping will happen when you succeed?”

“I'm the life of the party. The eye candy, the one who makes everyone else feel better. I need to work hard, too...for the sake of my brothers!”

“Now, now, I may not be as quick to anger as the Lord of Fools, but still. If you don't do what I say, I might have to punish you…”

“By the way, your costume was really cute, MC. Just thinking about it makes my heart go pitter-patter!”

“And now I'm a demon. Which means I could charm any sorcerer, no matter how evil! I'll have him dancing in the palm of my hand!”

“Oh Solomon, THANK YOU! You're so amazing I think I'm going to swoon! I love you..!”

“A scolding? Ooh, I wouldn't mind being scolded by you, sweetie ♡”

“FYI: It's super obvious what's running through your dirty little mind right now, Mammon…”

“Brother dearest ♡ I'm sooooo thirsty! Could you get me some blood, please and thanks? ♡”

“My charm is the greatest weapon of all! I'll steal your hearts right where you stand ♡”

“Ooh, MC, are you on Devilgram and Fab Snap? Because we totally need to friend each other!”

“I mean, I suppose I could put on a little show for you… but it won't be cheap, you know? Also, I charge extra for pictures and touching.”

“Nuh-uh. I'll be the one to win that right! Prepare to be slain in style, everyone ♡”

“I'm actually quite exhausted. So, I was thinking you could hold me in your arms for a little while so I can recharge ♡”

“If you want to experience this exfoliating paradise with me, don't hesitate to join in ♪ You know I always have an open-door policy in effect for you, love ♡”

“If both of us are charging, there's going to be sparks”

“I need you to put some cream on my back for me ♡ Yes, a backrub and nothing more. If you, on the other hand, are looking for a happy ending, I'm more than ready, my dear ♡”

“Oh, is my little MC scared? Come cling to my bosom, darling. I'll make you feel aaaall better ♡”

“I'm actually going out soon, and this fastener is giving me so much trouble. I can't get it up by myself. It could really use a good tug ♪ I should mention that my back is extremely sensitive. The slightest touch, and...well let's just say it will be hard to hold back. So sorry if I get you too excited ♡”

✧༺⚜️༻✧

Number 100 is my favourite, literally makes me blush

I will be doing a part 2 for Asmo, he is just so chaotic and lovely!

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

𝒮𝒽𝓎 𝒲𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 ༝༚༝༚

#justice for asmodeus #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #self ship #obey me crack #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me asmo x mc #obey me canon #canon #writing prompt

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billford-dump · 3 months

Note

lmao sorry for the confusion

There's this poll on twitter, the tumblr sexyman poll, y'know the jizz. It's in pair now, and Bill is paired with Wheatley. I am asking about your hc on how Fordsy and Bill reaction to this. Idk i just think it's funny if they were to be aware of this fiasco.

Ohhhh, okay! I'm not on Twitter lol, had no idea.

Bill thinks it's great. People are calling him sexy, as they should. He is entirely confident in the fact that he's going to win. Loves the publicity and attention, loves how his most devoted followers get so mad when people vote incorrectly, loves the drama. He definitely brags about it.

Ford on the other hand is mostly confused. To him, Bill is neither sexy nor a man. Attractive, sure, but sexy? And Bill doesn't have a human-relevant gender in the first place, he's a triangle and identifies as such! The whole thing is ridiculous and makes no sense. He still votes for Bill.

#ask #thank you for clarification lol #bill also votes for himself and if he starts falling behind makes a bunch of new accounts to “correct” the number of votes #he gets soooo mad if/when he loses and promptly becomes depressed #nobody likes him. hes not sexy. he lost to [person who won]. how much more of a loser could he possibly be.#ford has to comfort him

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 2 years

Text

The Prince Consort of Denmark

Featuring Henrik, Prince Consort of Denmark

Back in 2011, I was a hotel concierge in Washington, DC when the Queen of Denmark, Margrethe II and her husband, Prince Henrik visited the USA. They were in town for some cultural activities and company visits when her husband pulled a muscle or something and would be staying in their room while the Queen visited the National Museum of American History. And my manager wanted me to only tend to his needs and check on him, just in case he needs anything. I'd only seen Prince Henrik from far away when they first arrived at the hotel. A striking older man with a jovial face framed by understated glasses, charming smile and I guessed him to be not much over six feet tall. Apparently, the 77-year-old prince had a reputation as a bon vivant who enjoyed cooking, art and wine. That's all I could say about him. Too bad he's straight, I thought to myself. I was picturing him as a typical royal doing typical royal things. All of a sudden I wasn't too excited about my assignment as I knocked on his door. "Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness. I'm Jim and brought you your food." I said rather clumsily. Now that the prince was right in front of me, the impact of just how hot this guy was had hit me. I temporarily lost my ability to speak as all of the blood in my brain had traveled south. "Hi, Jim! Welcome. And just call me Henrik, OK?" "OK." I said as he grinned at me. He looked cute and sexy. His eyes were friendly and warm yet enigmatic. Like there was more to him than he was willing to reveal. I was getting interested in him, until I remembered he was straight. That's the story of my life, I thought to myself... all the sexy men are straight. I must have been very, very, very bad in my previous life. "I thought you'd be nursing your injury, but you seem to be doing all right." "Yeah, I just didn't feel like going to that event so I used it as an excuse. I'm not too crazy about these things." He said as we both chuckled. As I set up his food, he bent down to look closer, I leaned in and caught his scent. An old-fashioned cologne I couldn't quite place, mixed with his natural musky, manly scent both soothed and exhilarated me. I inhaled slowly trying to make the moment last. He tilted his face up to me and paused. I wondered if he was reading my thoughts as he smiled, catching me again with those beautiful blue eyes. I wanted to grab him and stick my tongue down his throat. "Easy, boy," I thought to myself. Gesturing to the nearby couch, he said, "Why not have a seat. I could use a little company." "Sure." I said in my desire to make a good impression. Henrik smiled at me and there was an instant electric-like feeling inside me. Suddenly he looked so dreamy I couldn't believe it. Here I am, in the company of royalty. Now I was even more sorry that he was straight. We chatted a bit as Henrik enjoyed his food and sipped his wine. I was running my eyes all over him every time he didn't see it, but it wasn't too often as he would give me looks all the while. It almost felt like he was checking me out, I thought to myself. I tried to keep myself from smiling as I was entertaining that idea. When I told him a funny story, Henrik laughed and reached over and patted me on the leg. And damn if my cock didn’t harden in the blink of an eye. The old man looked between my legs, laughed again and said, "I see you like my company." “Well, your Highness, you're a handsome man." I said thinking that I might as well be up front and honest with him. “Thanks. I don’t think anyone has ever told me that I affected them in that manner before.” He said and damn if he didn’t reach over and pat me on the leg again. We both laughed again. Then I motioned to his crotch and told him that he had a right sizable bulge in the crotch of his pants too. Then damn if he did ask me just how big my cock was. Feeling bold, instead of telling him, I just reached down and unzipped. Not to brag, but I'm a thick 9 inches. Then I told him to show me his and damn if Henrik didn't hesitate and pull out a decent 7 inch, uncut cock. I stood there with my cock out in front of the Prince Consort of Denmark... hoping. "Can I take a closer look at that?" He asked. I was ready to faint! I couldn't believe he was asking this! "Sure." I said as he took me in his hand, gently cupping my balls and then stroking my shaft softly. After a few moments, he asked quietly, "Can I suck you?" "Yes. " I replied softly. Then the next thing I knew, Henrik took me in his mouth and softly and gently massaged me with his tongue. He was wet and warm and amazingly gentle. The Prince was sucking on it with such skill that I realized that mine wasn’t the first dick that Henrik had sucked. Again, I had a thick, 9 inch cock and it is seldom that anyone can swallow even half the length of it, but damn if Henrik didn’t keep swallowing my dick an inch at a time until his lips were pressed against the base. Hell, I grabbed his head and started fucking the Prince's mouth. No matter how hard I shoved my cock down his throat, the Prince took it and pushed his face against my crotch for more. Henrik had me so worked up that I thought it was going to burst before he suddenly pulled away. At first I thought that he had enough, but then he quickly got up, pulled down his pants to his knees, turned his pale ass toward me and told me to fuck him. I took one look at his ass with his set of bull balls hanging down between his legs and spit on my hand and slicked up my cock the best I could. The thought of me fucking a prince had my cock throbbing. Hell, I thought I was going to shoot off before I could get my dick into the Prince Consort. I figured I would have a time getting my huge mushroom head into Henrik’s asshole, but damn if my cock didn't slide right in his willing hole. He sucked in a deep breath, but didn't flinch as I pushed the full length in. I knew then and there that the Prince Consort had been doing more than just sucking cocks. I didn't pull out, but started to gyrate my hips to give him the full sensation of being fucked. And talking about hot! His tight hole was magnificent and hugged my cock tight as he was squeezing my dick with his hot juicy hole. I almost passed out from pleasure as I stuffed my dick into Henrik's ass. It was so tight and wonderful I didn't want to pull back. "Fuck me hard Jim, I need it." Henrik said as he began to rock up and then slammed his butt back on to my dick. So I pulled out slowly and just when the tip was about to come out I rammed it back in as hard as I could. I pulled it out again and again rammed it back in. The slapping of my thighs on the back of his echoed through the room. I began to wildly fuck his hot ass. Every so often he would squeeze my dick with his ass muscles, rocked left and right, spreading his legs a bit wider as my fucking worked up to a solid rhythm. "You OK?" I managed, panting heavily. "Yes, yes I'm fine." He breathed. "I'm getting very close." I said, making it clear that if we didn't change course soon I was going to shoot my load. Pushing back hard into me was my cue to go for it. Then I was holding his ass with both hands and fucking him so hard that the couch was rocking like crazy. Henrik was shaking his head and moaning like a whore. "Oh, shit!" I gasped as my cock began to throb, pumping my load into his ass. Henrik was moaning and rocking, his warm hole was flooded with my cum. I slowly pulled out and stepped back as Henrik stayed kneeling laying his head back down on his arms. I stared at his hole, now visibly open wider than when I'd first gone down on it. I could see traces of my cum as I watched the hole pulsing along with his breathing. When Henrik turned around, I noticed his cock was throbbing, so I put my mouth over it and began to suck this old prince off. Henrik seemed like he hadn't received many blowjobs; at least from his wife and I knew it really turned him on to have me pumping up and down on his dick. It wasn't long before he grabbed me by the hair and with a loud groan, he fired his load down my throat.

#Henrik Prince Consort of Denmark #Prince Henrik #royalty #danish royal family #fan fiction #The Prince Consort of Denmark

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gojous-exbabymama · 3 years

Text

random headcanon about some of the jjk boy’s during sexy time

warning: smut, 18+, mdni, aged up characters, daddy kink, size kink, anal sex, crying, oral(f/m), unprotected sex, fluff, slight angst if you squint, loss of virginity, and injury to reader but nothing serious

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gojou saturo

“that time you sneezed” + “caught a cramp so bad he almost passed out”

- sex with gojou is always fun

- hate to admit it but it’s true

- it’s unpredictable yet super exciting

- don’t tell him that tho or else he’ll never shut up

- your back was arched against the sturdy kitchen table with your legs bent and pushed to your chest

- gojou was thrusting into you just right, hitting that spot deep inside you that had you screaming

- “yes, yes. right there d-dont stop!”

- “right there princess? am i hitting your special spot?”

- “you don’t have to answer that, i know i am~”

- “go on, scream louder for daddy, let em’ know just how good im making you feel”

- if you weren’t too focus on cumming you would of told him to shut the fuck up but he was making you feel good

- and you learned a long time ago that he doesn’t need to hear it from your lips to know, your body spoke for you

- the knot in your belly was growing tighter

- you were so close, your cries letting him know

- gojou glances down at you, watching your tits bounce with each thrust as your face twisted in pleasure

- “aww y/n-chan, i wish you could see the faces you’re making”

- gojou grips a hand to your face, squishing your cheeks together hard

- “soo cute princess~” he coos mockingly, watching as your face scrunched up, eyes going watery and nose twitching

- you felt it right then, the small tickling sensation in your nose that had you breathing picking up

- mustering up all your strength, you pulled your face out of his palm and turned away

- before he could say anything cheeky, you were letting out sneeze, after sneeze, after sneeze, after sneeze-

- if gojou wasn’t so balls deep inside you he would of thought it was cute

- but no, your body tensed and jerked with each sneeze that it had you clenching so tight around his cock he couldn’t even move

- the loud whine and groan pulls you out of your sneezing frenzy as you watch gojou’s body shaking, all movement coming to a halt was he tilts his head back

- that’s when you felt it, rope after rope of his hot cum painting your walls

- followed by a loud, painful yelp coming from him as he pulls out swiftly, gripping the back of his thigh

- you sat up quickly but was forced back down from his body weight alone as you feel him go slack against you

- “saturo?” you tapped him but didn’t get a response for a few moments until he shot his head up

- “oh my god, i just came so hard i got a cramp and almost passed out!”

- you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at that as he pouts a little, hands rubbing up and down your sides

- “it wasn’t my fault you were squeezing my dick so tight I couldn’t stop myself”

- “am I hearing the great gojou saturo has no self control?”

- you were only teasing but he took that as a challenge as he gripped your legs, pulling them up and onto his shoulders, his dripping tip rubbing against your folds

- “gojou wait, i need to-need to clean my nose!!”

- he waste no time and pushes his length back inside you, ready to punish you for thinking he was weak

- “leave it, you look cute with a runny nose anyways princess~”

- your face was covered in tears, snot, and his cum by the time he was down with you

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megumi fushiguro

“cumming way to fast” + “that time he accidentally got it in your eye”

- being a sorcerer was stressful asf

- he was exhausted literally all the time and getting injured left him bed bond for most days

- megumi barely had time to even relax

- but that’s what you were there for

- your weren’t one to brag or anything but you thought you were good at sex

- and megumi always made sure to tell you just how good you felt

- weather it’s your pussy squeezing him or the tight feeling of your throat wrapped around his throbbing length

- so to say that you felt a wee bit cocky the first time he came just seconds after bottoming out of you would be an understatement

- but you made sure to comfort him when you notice the pout and frustrated look on his face

- “that’ll never happen again” he mumbled out before cleaning you up

- but it does happen again

- about three more times actually

- and every time he grew more and more pissed at himself

- he was stressed! you knew that so you didn’t knock him if you didn’t finish

- you would tell him that it was ok

- “these kind of things happen gumi’”

- “you’re working yourself too hard baby :/“

- “let me help you relax, pls”

- expect he was never relaxed after cumming so quick inside you

- honestly, you were surprised that he could still get it up from all the stress he carries around

- finally done with finishing first every time, megumi made it his mission to get you right

- which is why he was kneeling between your legs, skirt lifted up with your panties stretched and pulled to the side as he feast on your cunt

- and you were a mess because it has been awhile since you got off and only megumi could make you see stars

- he had you spread wide for him, licking and sucking on your swollen clit that had you moaning just for him

- “ahh megumi please~” you don’t even know what your begging for but he does

- thick fingers thrusting in and out you had you gripping the sheets while your thighs tremble

- tale tale sign that you’re about to cum so he takes his fingers from out of you

- before you could whine at the loss, he’s soon thrusting his tongue inside your weeping pussy, ready to catch everything you give him

- “gumi i-im gonna cum for you!”

- “do it, cum for me kitten, cum right on my tongue”

- your body shook as you cum around the stiff muscle of his tongue, thigh squeezing around his head as you grip and pull on his hair hard

- he lets you come down, pressing kisses along your thighs before he stands up, stripping himself out of his clothes

- switching spots, you kiss along his stomach before reaching for his throbbing cock

- giving small licks against the tip to catch his precum dripping as he groans

- your mouth waters and you don’t wait a second longer before you took him in your mouth

- bobbing your head up and down, moaning when you feel him thrusting slowly in your mouth to match your rhythm

- you were just getting started when your eyes meet his right as you take him to the back of his throat

- big mistake

- the hand that has a grip your hair grows tight as he cums down your throat with a loud groan

- it caught you off guard and you didn’t have much time to prepare for his large load

- you pull off his length with a cough, he’s cum dripping from your lips as his load finishes on your face

- megumi hearing you gasping loudly brings him back to earth when he sees your head slight bent with one of your eyes squeezed shut

- “y/n?” calls as you hiss, shooting him a small glare is when he sees why

- “your cum got in my eye megumi.”

- “i-im sorry ba-“

- “dont just stare get me a towel!!”

- after cleaning you up and feeding you, megumi laid on top of you as you cuddle him closer

- he apologized more than enough you’re gonna have to give him kisses to settle him down

- “it’s ok honey, i still thought it was hot.”

- megumi could only groan, pouting as he watch you grin

- “you could say that i didn’t see it coming, huh huh?”

- megumi groaned once more as he buries his face into your neck

- yeah he definitely wasn’t going to let that happen again

————————————————————————————————————————itadori yuuji

“that time it was your first time” + “was that a mouth on the side of his cheek?”

- bby boi

- you can’t really say what sex is truly like with yuuji

- since you’ve never had it with him because you were a virgin

- and he was fine with that, he’ll wait for as long as you liked

- the first time it almost happened was back in him dorm during his 3rd year

- you both talked about it and agreed to have your first time be together so a week later, yuuji had the perfect night planned for you

- he really pulled out all the stops

- we’re talking warm scented candles, rose petals, soft music playing in the background and your favorite take out

- it was actually really romantic ngl

- after dessert you found yourself laying back on his bed, making out with such passion it left you feeling buzzed

- everything was slow, both your movements gentle when taking off each other clothes

- giggling and kissing the nerves away

- yuuji reached for you bra, getting it undone with easy

- his eyes in your body from your breast down to your thighs rubbing together, pretty pink panties covering center

- “you’re so beautiful baby” he whispers

- it was moment were you took each other in before you reached for his hand, bringing it up to where you wanted him to touch you first

- your eyes closing shut once you feel his warm hand squeezing and caressing your breast, gasping softly when you feel his thumb brushing over your nipple

- his lips leaving yours before kissing down to your neck had you feel needy

- the room filling with sounds of your pleasing sighs and his heavy breathing

- all of it cut short by the sound of a low rugged voice

- “what are you waiting for? just fuck her already”

- your eyes shot open and you couldn’t stop the loud scream from your lips

- because why the fuck was there a mouth on his cheek and an eye under his eye??!?

- once you pulled the sheets over your naked body did yuuji realize what had happened

- he slaps a hand over his cheek so hard he knocked himself out of bed

- ok so maybe he didn’t tell you everything about why he was at the academy and in hindsight, he probably should of told you everything before he had you naked

- after calming you down and getting a ice pack does he tell you about how he ate an ancient cursed finger and now there is a very powerful curse living inside of him

- it was definitely hard for you to wrap your head around this information because you weren’t a sorcerer, you didnt see demons or cursed things or even knew about those kind of things

- so yeah, you were a bit freaked out, a little upset and needed sometime to think so you left

- yuuji understood and gave you as much time as you needed but he was literally dying on the inside without his baby

- he was mopey, quiet, and just overall sad to be around because he missed you so much

- finally after a few days you reached out and invited him over to your place

- tear was shed and yuuji apologizing profusely

- “im sorry y/n i love you so much, i dont want to lose you”

- “you’re not going to lose me yuuji, i love you to much for that to happen just promise me no more secret mkay?”

- he agreed with a kiss that quickly turned heated and you were back in your room

- “he’s not going to..ya know?”

- yuuji quickly shutting it down because “nope, him and i have a deal, he won’t be coming out when it’s just us, i promise”

- that’s enough to put you at ease and soon enough, clothes were thrown off and you two were finally connected

- yuuji thrust were gentle, making it easier for you to get used to his size

- his fingers rubbing circles on your clit left your body shaking and your pussy clenching around him

- and when you both cum at the same time, you’re gripping and holding each other tight

- yeah he may have shedded a tear or two when he came it was just that good

- aftercare king where he cleans you up and cuddles, whispering ‘i love you’s and soft kisses

- “promise me you won’t die yuuji”

- there’s a pause before you feel his lips kiss your forehead

- “im not going anywhere baby, i love you”

- he promised no more secrets but right now he can’t tell you what will happen the day he finds that last finger

- but for now, he’s content with just holding you until then

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aoi todo

“that time you slapped him” + “he literally blew your back out”

- the time you’ve seen todo first time was shirtless

- you were terrified and turned on because what the fuck?

- no seriously, what the fu ck¿!

- dude is massive

- like was it even legal to be that massive?

- and when he dropped his pants for you the first time, you straight up walked out the room because there ain’t no way in hell

- “that thing is not going anywhere near my pussy”

- “please babygirl, just the tip?”

- it took a very, very long time before you even allowed that

- not even when your mouth watered or your pussy went purr

- his cock was just too big

- but after awhile you kinda got used to him once you realize all your insides were still in tact

- you’ve had some sex mishap, that was much was a given since this is todo we’re speak off

- you slapped the shit out of him one time when you heard him moan some idols name while he had his dick down your throat

- you didn’t let him touch you for almost a month

- he learned his lesson quick tho

- or that time he was fucking you standing up

- legs hanging over his broad shoulders while his hands held a tight grip on your ass bouncing you up and down on his thick cock

- you were three rounds in, body hot and covered in sweat

- the room filled with sounds of your moans, his deep grunts and the sickly wet squishing sound of your pussy

- todo was abusing your whole, having just made you squirt all over his cock had sent him into a frenzy, his pace picking up at a new speed

- until he took a step forward, his foot slipping out from under him, sending him falling back but he was quick enough to reach out to grip the dresser behind him

- but not quick enough to stop the stacks of manga from falling on top of you both

- one word to describe sex with this beefy man: passion

- everything he did in bed was always him trying to show just how much of a man he is and that only he could satisfy you

- whenever he was done with you, your limps were sore and achy

- it felt like you ran a marathon then swam six miles and back

- meanwhile he barely broke a sweat

- todo always made sure you were left spent and satisfied

- no matter when or where

- and he saw you bending over, getting a small peak of the underside of your perfect ass, he had to have you

- so that’s how you found yourself in a small closet, it could fit two people comfortably

- but todo made up at least three on his own so there was barely any room but that doesn’t stop him from fucking your ass

- you held your upper half up by gripping onto the shelve in front of you as his large hands grip and squeeze your plush ass

- “thats it babygirl, doing so good”

- it felt so good taking him like this, his heavy balls slapping against your soaked cunt while he pounds his throbbing length in and out your ass

- hands slapping each cheek before leaving you spread open to watch him fuck you

- “f-fuck so tight!” he thrust harder, pushing your body forward “you love when i fuck you with this big cock don’t you?”

- you move a hand back to try and slow his movement but he only grabs it and keeps his held to your back

- “too much d-daddy..s’ too big!”

- but he keeps going, grinning wildly when he heard that

- todo stretched you out good for him and it was still to much cock for you

- your cries and moans bounce off the walls, your grip on the shelf growing loose the faster he went

- he sends another hard spank against your ass before his fingers found your needy clit

- pinching and rubbing quick circles around the bud had you gushing

- “oh fuck yeah, you filthy girl cumming from getting your ass fucked? so dirty”

- your body shakes as you tongue rolls out your mouth, panting and whining like a bitch in heat

- “fucking needy, perfect girl just for me” he growls, his hips picking up speed as he chases his high

- “t-to..slow..down”

- you could barely get any words out, your brain slowly turning to mush as you become nothing but a toy for him to cum inside

- he was going feral, loving that he can turn you so dumb from just his cock alone

- the sound of wood cracking catches your attention before the shelf you’re gripping breaks, sending the front of your body forward down

- the scream you let out make todo halt all his movements, his big hands and large arms holds your middle to keep you up right as you start to sob

- “w-what’s wrong?”

- “can’t move…it hurts!!”

- white hot pain shoot through your back as you body goes stiff

- five hours later you’re being wheeled out the hospital with strict orders to not leave the bed

- you made todo swear not to tell anyone about this and swore on takada’s life that he wouldn’t tell

- but when yuuji comes to visit and ask what happened, here comes this big guy

- “it was my dick, my dick put her in a wheelchair brother!!”

- please slap him again sis

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faeriescorpio · 2 years

Text

I hope I’m not just a content creator to you guys but also insane

ITS TWO AM AND GUESS WHO WROTE 1400 WORDS ABOUT THE GREATER INVINCIBLE II POLYCULE??? THATS RIGHT BABEEEYYY!!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38223133

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The Greater Invincible II Polycule (a.k.a. Y/N's best idea since sliced bread, except Y/N has been alive longer than sliced bread, because of WKM) (YES THIS IS THE FIC TITLE ON AO3)

theres not really a plot, except Y/N solves everything by kissing everyone and its a happy ending and part 2s not out yet so i close my eyes and this is the canon ending thanks

Chapter 1: The First Loop

In all honesty, and with a lot of hindsight, having the ship wide polycule probably saved your life a hundred times over. Also, you think, staring at Gunther in shock as he points a shaking gun at you, the crew members by his side sharing the same look of doubt and confusion that you could see in your head of defense's eyes, it was probably the only thing saving you right now from getting your head blown off.

"Gunther?"

You were something of a celebrity. It doesn't take much for a good captain's name to spread like wildfire, and the better of a person you were, the more people whispered your name with reverence.

That being said, it was a little disconcerting to see how desperate some of the crew members on the Invincible II were to get even an iota of your attention.

"I can park this shuttle with the blinds down," The Shuttle Pilot brags, slamming the blinds down to prove it. You furrow your eyebrows and take a glance at his Identification Tag.

D8198. You commit it to your memory. It feels important to you that you should know every name of every member of your crew, because it's your duty as captain to take care of them all.

When the shuttle crashes into the side of your ship, you're prepared- a good captain is always prepared, after all- grabbing the Shuttle Pilot and steadying him. He gazes at you in open admiration. Your hands slide down from steadying him by the shoulders to loosely holding his hands.

"Would- would you like to grab a coffee later?" He asks almost desperately. You smile back and with a gentle squeeze of his hands, arrange a time for the pair of you to share a coffee. D8198 lights up with joy.

L5199 is pretty. Almost stunningly so. You're not sure if your breath is knocked out by the impact as she walks into you or from her beauty. She stares up at you in surprise. She hadn't been paying attention, walking along with her face buried in her tablet as you headed toward the bridge of the Invincible II for the first time since the start of the trip. You stare back at her, the moment seemingly suspended in time.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaks, and time moves on again.

You gesture towards her eye makeup and give a thumbs up. She flushes.

"Thank you."

Then she scurries along. As you should too, there's a schedule to be had.

Sexy Crew stares at your interaction with L5199 in open jealousy and rushes forward for his moment of attention.

"Oh no," he says aloud with a dramatic flourish of the hand. "Captain, I'm falling! Catch me!" He sways forward in a trust fall, the kind that promises that despite the dramatics, he'll be hitting the floor hard without any strong arms to catch him.

You reach out almost on autopilot. It's ingrained in you, the instincts of a good captain, the ones that will never let your crew mates fall, even if its very silly and on purpose.

B5147, Sexy Crew's Identification Number reads.

He stares up at you in wordless surprise, like part of him had wondered if you were really going to catch him. You're a busy person after all, and sometimes the rumors describe you as rather no nonsense and straight to the point. Which isn't a fair descriptor- you're just an efficient captain.

You help him back to his feet and his eyes never leave yours. These two crew members are going to stay in your mind for a long time.

It's stupid. It's goofy. Mark is going to laugh his ass off when he hears you say it out loud.

But Theory Crew is cute. You find your eyes meeting his as you give your speech, holding your glass of champagne, and as the warp care countdown begins, you watch in amusement as he downs his glass faster than anyone else around him.

You don't even get a sip of yours; Mark takes it.

"Mmm!" Mark gestures towards your cryo container as he places the empty glasses away, and you roll your eyes, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek before you step towards your cryo tube. Mark looks pleased.

One date. You had one breath-taking date with the man, with the wordless promise of more, of adventures and heart-stopping thrill, and now he was ripped from your grasp. You curls your hands into fists.

Mark was gone.

The Asteroid Defense System is offline. You stand in front of the door, trying not to let yourself succumb to the panic and grief of having watched Mark fly through the glass window in the bridge. You look at the two options in front of you, then back at the door between you and the misbehaving turret guns.

Wear a Disguise, or Wake the Crew.

You saw how Mark built those things. Like hell were you going to think for even a second that a disguise would work on them. You pull out your tablet and use the Wakey-Wakey Protocol to take Gunther out of cyber sleep.

With a bang and a scream, Gunther falls from the ceiling. You take a step forward, concerned, but he straightens up (or as straight as he gets; he slouches a lot) and removes his cigar from his mouth. You frown. He didn't have that in his mouth in his cyber sleep, right?

"The B stands for Bullet," He smirks, and heads toward you and the ADS room. You reach out with both your hands, silently asking for a hug. He accepts it.

"I hear you have a problem," He states, a question lurking in his voice. He takes a glance around. "Hey, where's Mark?"

Your eyes water and Gunther grimaces. "Oh." It doesn't take a genius to know that Mark would only stop following you around if he were dead.

Gunther squeezes you gently, once, before pulling out of the hug. "Come on Captain, don't fall apart now," he half-jokes, half-warns. You straighten up at the title. "You have a job to do."

He looks towards the door. "Don't worry, Captain. I've been through hundreds of battles. A few rogue drones won't get the best of me." He hesitates. "I'll be careful, though."

True to his word, he defeats the ADS with ease. "Give me a challenge next time," He teases, and you give him a kiss out of relief.

It's disappointing when the temperature suddenly drops.

"Do you feel that?" Gunther asks, but gets interrupted by the computer.

"Warning: Coolant leak in cryo."

Gunther backs up. "Sorry darling, but that's not my expertise. I'll keep working on the ADS, see if I can get it working the way it's supposed to, or at the very least, I'll man the turret guns to protect the ship from asteroids. That was supposed to be the drones' jobs, but..." He trails off with a shrug, stepping backward back into the room with a wink as the doors shut in front of him, leaving you alone in the hallway.

It makes sense to just. Keep waking up the crew. They are very capable people, after all.

Celci gives you a quick forehead kiss when she arrives.

"Mark found out the hard way glass windows and space don't mix?" She asks, but it doesn't sound like a question. At least she knows better than to gloat right now. She places the spare winter coat around your shoulders and steps into cryo, closing the door behind her.

Fixing the coolant leak is quick work, but soon she steps out only to pull you in. There's something wrong with reactor. Luckily, she seems to agree with you that waking Burt is the best idea.

Burt confuses Celci sometimes, but when he steps out of reactor with the problem already fixed, she greets him just the same as she did you. You give both of them a relieved hug, thinking all the troubles are over, when the computer announces that the Warp Core is Unreachable.

Even Celci misses Mark right now.

106 notes · View notes

no-droids · 4 years

Text

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee

***

This.

This shit, right here.

If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here. This is like. You remember that one game, Mercy? The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?

You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous. Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares? It’s child’s play. It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

You know those people that… they don’t just rub you the wrong way, but literally every single aspect about their personality is sandpaper against wet skin and your whole entire being feels chafed raw just by existing in their general vicinity for an extended period of time?

You’re… you’re not usually a competitive—much less aggressive person. You never have been. It’s just not part of your nature. If you ever excel at anything in life, it isn’t because of some secret, deep-seated desire to win or be better than anyone else. You just… do you. You do whatever you do, and if it’s good, it’s good. And if it’s bad, it’s good. Because at the end of the day at least it’s still you, and you’re okay with that.

But this?

This shit? Right here?

“This is fucking dumb,” you say, because you know it’s what you both must be thinking so you may as well just get it out in the open. “This is the dumbest fucking thing, Dameron. What are we doing? Why are we doing this?”

The grumpy, orange-jumpsuited figure sitting behind you just sighs heavily and slumps even further down in his bucket seat, as if it isn’t the first time you’ve tried asking this incredibly valid question (it totally is), bringing a palm down to thunk the top of the guidance controls between his legs in a quiet irritation you’re almost certain has everything to do with the very topic you’re trying to bring up.

“Because,” comes that infuriating drawl. You can only see his face from this angle by looking at his reflection in the transparisteel barrier directly in front of you, but even just imagining the way his mouth moves while he rounds out the words makes your jaw clench. “The coordinates we picked up were scrambled and this rendezvous could be going down at any one of thirty-six locat—?”

“No,” you interrupt him with a scowl, “not why I’ve been floating in dead space in this Maker-forsaken ship with you for eight fucking hours a day since… fuck, what’s today? Thursday? Friday? Nope, can’t be Friday, Friday’s our off-day. Thursday, then. …Thursday?” You shake your head. “Ugh, see? Time doesn’t exist when I’m not allowed to cum, life is like one never-ending nightmare.”

“Oh.” He takes a second to think about it in silence, the calloused tips of his fingers scratching the side of his face while he considers. It wouldn’t usually be as loud as it is right now. Maybe it’s the haunting quiet of space surrounding the ancient powered down hunk of metal you’re both stuck in, inadvertently isolating and amplifying the sound—or maybe it’s because your copilot’s jaw is currently covered in a thick, dark beard that you swear barely took his testosterone-overloaded ass a fucking week or two to grow, if that. Regardless, the dark bristles crunch loudly under his short fingernails and it takes you about a grand total of five whole uninterrupted seconds of the scraping sound to realize you’re grinding your teeth along with it. “Well,” he finally says, “that was your stupid idea.”

“Hmmmmmmmno,” you contest firmly, wiggling your elbow back to poke at his shin with your index finger once, twice, thrice, until he finally slaps your hand away in quiet irritation. To the misfortune of you both—and likely the other hundred or so pilots concurrently taking rotating shifts in these tandem x-wings in a glorified mass stakeout, the cockpit of this ship is just way too fucking small. Your arm is squeezed uncomfortably against machinery and electronics to get to him from this angle and a light slap isn’t going to stop you now that you’re here. “You—” (poke) “—have a superiority complex and decided to turn it into a competition, not—” (poke) “—me.”

“Oh, I have a superiority complex, okay,” he scowls and nods in vehement, fake agreement, finally giving up and letting you poke at will, but the appeal is lost as soon as you realize he’s over it and your arm eases back into your lap. You watch his reflection look out of the viewport and scan the empty void of space for the twentieth time in the past five minutes, clearly just as desperate to get back to base as you are. “So what is it you call saying—wait, no no, not even saying, loudly declaring—‘Of course I can go longer without sex than “wham bam thank you ma’am” Dameron, you brainless fucks, it’s a simple fact!’”

“Alright—I don’t sound like that, fuck you very much,” you return, in reference to his shrieking, high-pitched impression of you surrounded by your fellow pilots in the rec room when you’ve had a bit too much to drink. “Also, you don’t have to finger-quote literally every single syllable of my fucking sentence, Dameron. First and last word, that’s all it takes. And if it’s so superiority complex-ey of me to state simple facts, then what is it you call saying ‘betcha two weeks worth of pay you can’t, pretty baby’?”

“Uh, easy credits?” He immediately asks, side-eyeing your reflection through the transparisteel. “ Easy credits. Just begging for it. Two weeks of your slutty, sexy, easy fucking credits just begging to be taken and used— ”

“You need to get laid,” you cut in to tell him bluntly, scrunching your nose in what you hope looks like disgust. As per protocol, the power to the x-wing was cut at the beginning of your shift—what feels like a fucking eternity ago—as a preventative maneuver in case the target falls out of hyperspace unexpectedly. Avoiding the scanners of a fleet that may never actually show means it’s cold and dimly lit in here—just starlight in front of either you, but you’re hoping he can gauge the severity of your revulsion with your back to him. “You just turned my money into a sex object. It was vile. I feel violated on its behalf.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get laid,” he tosses carelessly back at you, and you roll your eyes with as much sass as you can physically muster, so tired of all the dodging. You know this hasn’t been easy for him either, he just has too much pride to admit it. “Besides, you’ve gotta be past the withdrawal stage by now. Is it really all that bad?”

“The fuck you mean, ‘Is it really all that bad’?” You snap at him, shuffling around grumpily in your seat, hating the way the bulky weapons controls sit right between your thighs and prevent you from closing them. Withdrawal stage, ha. “Of course it’s all that bad. It’s horrible. It’s the fucking worst. And more importantly, how are you not having any trouble with this? Oh, wait—that’s right,” you answer yourself before he has a chance to. “Because you cheated.”

“I did not cheat,” Dameron’s reflection immediately challenges with an accusatory finger pointed at you. “I did not. When the fuck did I cheat? I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half—all because you don’t believe in the honor system—just so you could tell me I fucking cheated?”

You scoff, feeling your annoyance spark even more. He’s always been able to get under your skin, but the neglect you’ve been forcing your body to endure is just throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire. “Okay, first of all? Rude. I am a fucking joy to have as a roomie, alright? I put up with your snoring, your 2:00 AM dinners, you blasting your radio while I’m trying to sleep, I barely complain about your body odor—”

“My snoring is adorable, I get snacky at night, only sad people with fucked up lives hate music, I smell amazing,” Dameron casually lists off on his fingers, the self-confidence so easy and unshakeable that you swear he’s almost preening at the compliments he just gave himself by the time he’s finished rebutting everything you can think to throw at him. And, while you’d never admit it, he does smell good. He smells… unbelievably fucking good. Always. Something dark and woodsy, you can never quite put your finger on. It pisses you off, so much that you’ve made a habit of pulling a face of disgust whenever the warm, rich scent noticeably reaches you, hoping it deflates his ego just a little bit. No such luck so far.

“Whatever. The point is I’m a good fucking neighbor, alright, I’m neighborly as fuck,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “And don’t make it sound like I’m putting a chastity lock on your balls every night, because you can fuck anyone you want. In fact, I strongly fucking encourage it—I just want to know about it when it happens.”

Dameron smirks and you groan, already knowing what’s coming. “You wanna hear it?”

Yep, there it is. “Second of all—”

“Feel the whole bunk rock with it?” He goes on, completely ignoring you. “Use the excuse that you’re trapped up top so you can just stay there the whole time and listen? You know you can do a lot more than just—”

“Second of all,” you project over him, “you’re seriously telling me you haven’t had any wet dreams then, hm? No snorgasms? Hmmm? No happy naps? No captain midnights? No mattress fracking? Hmmmmmm???”

His voice very quickly sounds… shocked. “How many fucking euphemisms—?”

“Wait wait, one more—” you quickly interrupt, too much momentum to stop now, “—sleepskeet.”

You watch in immense satisfaction as his expression seems to progress through all five stages of grief, before he exhales a long, unamused sigh and scratches his beard again. You want to pluck each strand of it out of his face one by one. “Anyways. Wet dreams are totally different and don’t count.”

“It’s not different!” You burst out, unable to help yourself, “it’s an orgasm, and rule number three is no orgas—”

“I know what the rules were, Gold-Ten,” he returns calmly, and it infuriates you, how he’s always able to make it seem like you’re the instigator who’s overreacting. And he knows exactly what he’s doing by calling you by your flight designation, and it pisses you off even more because calling him Black-Leader in any other situation besides active warfare just feels like an unnecessary reminder of his skills. Why he’s currently behind you manning the guidance controls and why you’re currently stuck in the front seat with the bulkier weapons systems. “The question is if you’re seriously that bad enough of a sport to automatically disqualify me because of something that happens to any human with a dick indiscriminately when we blueball ourselves.”

“But that’s the entire fucking point, Dameron!” You shrill, throwing your hands in the air in pure exasperation. “There it is! You need it more than I do, you just said it yourself! Not to mention I said I can go longer without sex than you can— sex , not orgasms, but as it turns out I win at both. Now can we please call this shit off so I can finally cum? This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nope,” he says immediately, popping the P with a bit too much hard emphasis to be genuinely amused. He’s frustrated, too—his voice is too pleased, too fake to not be masking irritation underneath. “Sorry. But this was also your stupid idea, so.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, anger flaring equal to his, just way more… verbal. And descriptive. “Wet dreams don’t count, fucking right. Tell that to the oceans of Kamino I got going on down there, huh? I move on this seat wrong and I’ll slide off it—”

A loud slam of a palm against the controls suddenly echoes throughout the small cockpit, causing you to jump slightly.

“Don’t,” Dameron snarls, “... say shit like that to me. Not right now. Not right now, fuck .”

You go quiet for a moment, not expecting that much of an outburst at something you considered to be a throwaway remark, but then… oh. Something occurs to you, something… sinister. Oh, well, now there’s an idea.

Everything inside you immediately surges up and burns at the thought—the mere whisper of a way out of all of this, quickly, without giving in and letting him hold your surrender over you for Maker knows how long. It’s so fucking simple, you don’t know why you didn’t think of it before. You don’t have to wait him out at all; instead, you just need to… entice him into giving in first.

Neither of you say anything for a while, and you don’t know what he’s thinking (nothing, probably—a dry tumbleweed bouncing across an empty desert landscape, you imagine) but you take the dip in conversation to consider a plan. You can’t go at it too outright, it’ll be too big of a turnaround and he’ll see it coming lightyears away. A halfhearted joke about your pussy tossed out without thinking is what catalyzed the most substantial reaction from him you’ve seen, so… maybe you can keep steering the conversation towards the idea.

“How many wet dreams have you had?” You suddenly ask, your heart beginning to pick up in your chest as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?” Dameron grunts from behind you, and you catch his reflection raising a thick eyebrow at you.

You take a deep breath and disguise it by stretching your back out just a little bit, lifting your shoulder blades and arching the sore muscles there, before settling back down in your normal crappy posture once more. “Now many times did you cum in your sleep? Had to at least been once for you to claim they don’t count.”

“Why does it matter?” He asks, completely sidestepping the question for the second time. “It was involuntary.”

You shrug. “Just so I know how many freebies I can get tonight.”

“No,” Dameron instantly counters, his voice dead serious. “Not fucking allowed.”

“Why not?” You ask, and this time, there’s significantly less challenge than you’d typically deliver it with. Instead, your voice is soft, questioning. Not argumentative, but curious, and there’s just enough of your point left unsaid that it’ll seem like he conjured the rest of the image himself.

There’s silence while he considers his response to the perfectly executed bait. You assume you’re both picturing the same thing, because it’s what you’ve pictured almost every single night spent in this celibate hellscape. The cool darkness of your shared quarters, the standard-issue sheets that still feel crispy and rough on your skin no matter how many nights you’ve slept in them, with one of your hands pressed tight over your mouth and two of your fingers circle your clit.

“You only get to do it if I’m in the room,” he poses instead, and you swallow thickly, feeling your body tighten with an unintentional drop of pure heat through your tummy at the thought. Maker, it must be really bad if Poe fucking Dameron is getting to you like this. The bane of your existence shouldn’t make your insides twist in on themselves—at least, not in a good way.

“Not like I’d have much choice,” you eventually respond, keeping it purposefully ambiguous. “It’s your room, too. Unfortunately.”

Stars, it’s been so long since you’ve done this, since you’ve walked the fine line between flirtation and seduction, wanting to turn on the charm slowly—gradually ease it up like a hyperdrive lever under your fingertips so that you’re at maximum by the time he realizes you’re even there. You take a moment to glance at his reflection, watching Dameron look back at you curiously, a flash of interest in his eyes.

“By the way, how does that one girl feel about us doing this?” You ask out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the existence of his pretty little number. You’ve seen her under his arm around base at least a few times, which is more than you can say for the rest of them. “Red-Six. Tall brunette with the tattoos—I don’t bother learning names, they all come and go.”

“Nihla,” Dameron nods with a wistful sigh, tilting his head to rest against his shoulder. “Or, wait… Neah. No—it was… Nalal. Yeah, Nalal, I think that’s right…”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter. “One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is how many people get in line for you, I’ll never fucking understand it.”

“They just want me for my cock,” he tells you without missing a single beat, sounding like he’s not joking in the slightest. “It was starting to get obnoxious. Glad I finally have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, stunned by how truly, mind-blowingly full of himself he is. “You’re… fucking…”

You end up just staring at him and making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, at a complete loss for words, and Dameron eventually shrugs and continues on after you fail to form a coherent thought in the allotted time frame he provides.

“Now I can just tell them I’m in a long-running bet with Gold-Ten over who can sexually deprive themselves the longest and weirdly enough, they don’t seem all that interested anymore,” he remarks, tilting his chin up and rubbing at his beard again, and for some reason… the sound of it bothers you somewhat less now, the way he phrased that resonating deeper inside you than it should. Lower than it should. You blink a few times, almost shocked by your body’s unprecedented response to his admission—Poe Dameron uses you as an excuse to turn down sex with pretty girls? Happily?—and your mind goes blank for a second while he watches you through the transparisteel. “It’s alright,” he eventually goes on, tilting his head. “Sometimes a sabbatical is good. I do really miss pussy, though.”

“Well,” you finally tell him, oddly not having much else to offer at the moment. “I’m sorry? And… you’re welcome. I guess.”

Dameron shrugs once more and makes an apathetic sound without opening his mouth, and you drop your stare down to the machinery between your spread thighs after feeling like you were looking at each other for too long. The position started uncomfortable and seven hours later, it’s still fucking uncomfortable. At first the discomfort twinged at your hips and lower back, but now the sensation seems to be… centering itself a bit more, finding a spot right between your legs, especially when his words echo through your subconscious and make you naturally want to push your thighs together. I do really miss pussy, though.

You try to snap out of it a bit, try to stop hyperfixating on the way your underwear has felt sticky and wet for fucking hours now, but it’s so fucking difficult to chill yourself out when your body already went into this whole situation with a month and a half long stumbling block. He’s not really doing anything at all—he’s leant back in his chair and staring out the window into the black emptiness of space when you steal a look once more, but something about how his casual responses are affecting you makes it seem like he’s the one currently seducing you.

Maker, you have to focus. You have to control yourself. You’re starting to feel a little warm in your thick jumpsuit—a particular shade of orange that does not compliment your complexion but you normally rejoice in wearing regardless. It’s baggy and uniform and hides most of your curves and most importantly, it keeps you toasty on missions like this. Space is cold —especially this far out in the Cauper Void, and there’s no fucking reason this powered down hunk of floating metal should feel as muggy and stifling as it does in here.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you suddenly hear yourself say, spontaneously, no thought put into it whatsoever. One last try, one last attempt to avoid it, a last-ditch go at flight before he gives you no choice and you’re left with this one remaining option. “This isn’t a good idea. It’s… not healthy. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him. “I know you don’t, pretty baby.”

“Then let’s just call the whole thing off,” you propose once again, trying to lighten your tone, make it a… a friendly thing. It sounds so fake, even to your own ears—since when would you be desperate enough to let the dreaded petname slide?—but granted, you know what they say about time and measures and all that shit. “We can call it a tie, just go back to the way things were befo—”

He cuts you off and pins you with his gaze through the reflection. “You realize that you begging me to put an end to your suffering is—ridiculously hot, mostly—but also only an incentive to make me keep pushing until you finally give in?”

You groan and comb some of your hair off your forehead, not liking the way it’s getting just the slightest bit damp. “Fine, we won’t call it off, but can we at least just stop—” You immediately catch yourself, not wanting to unintentionally push this too far too quickly, but your hesitation is clear and compelling enough for him to prompt you.

“At least just stop what?” Dameron asks, and though you don’t think it’s intentional or even noticeable from his perspective, something about the way his voice sounds… husky. Low to the ground.

“Stop dragging it out,” you breathe, your heart pounding. Why is your heart pounding so fucking fast? This is a fucking sting op, a facade, so why are you getting so caught up in the lie you’ve spun for yourself? “Finish it. Sooner, rather than later. Quit being masochists about it, just fucking put it to—”

Maker, your eyes instinctively snap to his at your poor choice of wording, having almost said bed on complete accident. Genuinely, you didn’t mean to phrase it that way, but at the same time, the thought of it almost burns you alive. Fuck. Dameron, and you, in bed. It could be mean. It could be rough. A fight for dominance more than anything. He’s bigger than you and he could make it fucking hurt, especially after going without it for as long as you have, but something about how double-edged that type of relief would be isn’t really sinking in for you right now. Like a person slowly dying of thirst that’s fantasizing about drowning. Regardless, the idea of a night with him and the sudden assortment of vivid imagery it provides is enough to get you to shut up and take a deep breath, just wait with your mouth shut for whatever his response is.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to wait long at all.

“This is cute,” he suddenly tells you, and you jerk back and sputter a bunch of consonants stupidly like he smacked you.

“Fuck you?” Are the first recognizable words that can be heard. “I’m not—this isn’t fucking— cute?”

“It’s cute,” Dameron repeats, hiding a soft smile from you with a few of his fingers pressed to his lips. “You,” he says as he points at your reflection, twirling his finger around in circles, “trying to be all sneaky about it, go about your little performance. It’s like… watching a little kid just blatantly fuck up a magic trick but they’re naive enough to think it’s working. Keep going, I’m enthralled.”

You hold still for just a second as ice suddenly sinks through your tummy and clears away any trace of warmth you may have once felt from before. Of course. Stupid. Stupid, you shouldn’t have even tried something like that, you don’t know why you thought…

Horrifyingly, you go dead silent and the lack of an immediate response from you hangs awkwardly in the still air. You’re usually so quick with him, so fiery, letting the things he throws at you just glide right off you, but for some insane reason, you’re actually fucking… embarrassed? A little bit?

You should say something, but your whole body is just frustratingly blank, almost buzzing in mortification, and it gets worse and worse the longer you stay quiet. You don’t usually put yourself in a position to be compromised, and you certainly didn’t think the place he decided to jab this time had particularly thin skin.

You… you’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone laugh at you when you’re genuinely trying your best to flirt.

Well, it’s too late to say anything now, you think. Now it’s just uncomfortable in here—true discomfort, not the typical angry silences. You’re used to that, you’re used to huffing and crossing your arms and ticking your jaw through the breaks in conversation, refusing to say a word because you’re beyond pissed off. This is different. This quiet sits different in the air, this emotion hits different in your chest, somewhere vulnerable. A crack in your armor he found without even necessarily intending to, but at this point, the stupid way you can’t seem to hide the wound from him is just as much to blame.

“So, uh…” Dameron clears his throat as you shut your eyes tight against the awkwardness, but you can still feel a strange little shift in the air from behind you. There’s something about the enclosed space, the quiet darkness surrounding you both, you feel… too close to him. Sharing his air, feeling the energy when it’s cramped and you’re not able to just get up and storm away from him like normal. You don’t like it. You don’t like that you can immediately tell something has changed without being able to see him, that type of intimacy between you is pushing a boundary you can’t quite pinpoint but know exists.

You snap your eyes open and look over at Dameron’s reflection when he’s quiet for too long, and though you try to glare as fiercely as possible at him while you do it, the look on his face almost stops you dead. The pure intensity raging in his expression, the way he’s got his eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between yours, carefully studying you, wondering if perhaps he may have gotten it all wrong. “I mean, y’know. Theoretically speaking, and all. If I broke, you’d let me fuck you?”

You… aren’t expecting that.

You don’t know why but your heart suddenly starts to race again, but it’s not the same as before. Before it was speeding up and at an angle, like a rocket trying to escape a body’s gravitational pull, to go somewhere, search for something. This time it just feels like it’s ricketing downhill, unsteady and out of control, about to break apart with every single pothole that rattles and slams through you. Shit. You didn’t expect the ultimatum would be presented to you so up front like that—you thought there’d be… some resistance, at least.

Fuck, you take way too fucking long thinking about it, and your face feels warmer and warmer the more you mentally pick apart his specific phrasing, wondering where you should even begin. You still haven’t said anything, but the damage is already done. What should've been a firm, instantaneous go fuck yourself is left suspended, unanswered, open for interpretation. You miss your window of opportunity to shut him down, you overshoot it by a longshot, and then you feel that spark of a what-if flare deep down once more.

No, fucking stop it. Stop it. Maker, your eyes do everything they can to not look at him while you concentrate and work to tap into your anger, stoking the flames of your fire to avoid feeling… temptation. How dare he? How fucking dare he do this to you, especially when there’s no chance to get out of here, to abort mission and cut your losses? You clench your jaw and isolate that fury, magnify it until it’s the only thing you can feel anymore.

“My turn now,” Dameron eventually breaks the silence to clarify, blinking at you, and by this point you’re so fucking pissed off that you don’t recognize that isn’t actually a question.

“No,” you immediately snap, strung far too thin to deal with this new, treacherous territory with him. Defaulting to normal is best, it’s easier. “No, it’s not your turn, and fuck no, you can’t fuck me, not even if it means I win this stupid bet. No to everything that has anything to fucking do with you, alright? Don’t talk to me. You’re lucky if I agree to sleep in the same fucking room as you tonight. And—and?—I think your beard looks dumb.”

Okay, so maybe the last part was just a little bit childish, but you’re in such a bad fucking mood and you want to insult something he’s clearly just trying out for right now, hasn’t yet solidified as part of his usual appearance and unshakeable confidence in it. It’s a downright lie—you think he might look more attractive with it than he ever has. Effortlessly rugged and masculine, framing his face and making his eyes all the more piercing.

You don’t think it works, but regardless, he heeds your sharp words and says nothing for a good few minutes at least. You had hoped the break in interaction would allow you the ability to reset a little bit, give yourself time to work through it, but it’s like the pressure in the air steadily increases regardless of how silent it is in here—or perhaps, because of it.

You can’t help it. You flick your eyes to the transparisteel in front of you once more and catch his reflection staring directly at you, unmoving. It jars you as much as it sparks your anger, and you glare down at your hands and give him a few seconds. A few seconds of grace, of mercy, before you try again.

Sure enough, he’s still got his dark eyes pinned to you when you go to check once more, like he’s actually fucking thinking about something right now, which is just… astounding, for obvious reasons. Mainly, the nerve of him. The fucking nerve of him to be able to look at you like that, like he’s just entitled to study your every feature, searching your eyes for things you’ve never looked deep enough to find within yourself, making incredibly loud assumptions with his mind that he has absolutely no right to be making.

“Shut up,” You snap at him defensively, feeling like you’re sweating buckets even in the freezing emptiness of dead space. You can’t figure out if it’s a cold sweat or if your body is legitimately just malfunctioning under his stare. “Shut up.”

You watch as his reflection suddenly drops his head back against the seat and rolls out the stiffness of his neck, blinking his eyes shut and raising his eyebrows like you’re completely overreacting, like he has absolutely no idea. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re not that dumb,” you challenge. “You’re… plotting. Evil plotting.”

A thick eyebrow drops so that only one is quirked up, and a grin pulls at his lips.

“You’re right,” Dameron admits casually after a moment with his eyes still closed, his voice pitched low in the cramped ship. “I was thinking about what it’s gonna take to get you to lose.”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, starting to unintentionally bounce one of your legs up and down without even realizing it. Fuck, this ship is small, it’s too fucking small in here—you gaze wistfully out at the vast endlessness of space, wanting to grit your teeth at the irony of being surrounded by the one thing you so desperately wish you had.

“I just have to find a weakness,” he shifts forward in his seat and reveals to you, bewilderingly shameless in his honesty. Like all of a sudden you’re an accomplice to this endeavor instead of its target, as if he isn’t spoiling the secret by letting you in on it. “Something that you like, that gets you going. Something that riles you up, gets you all hot and bothered down there—”

“So you can exploit it,” you huff, slouching over a bit and trying not to sound like you’re pouting.

“—so I can exploit it,” he finishes happily, collapsing back into his seat like he’s glad you caught on so quick and he doesn’t have to explain further. “Now we can do the whole routine—the bickering, the tension, the undeniable sexual chemistry we have—or we can skip all that and you can just tell me flat out what it’s gonna take to rev that pretty little engine up, because I want it purring.”

And, it’s so fucking weird, because the specific verbiage that would normally make you cringe just hearing it spoken aloud doesn’t inspire the typical response, even though it feels like it should. It feels like you should be grossed out, it feels like a moment you should screw up your facial expression and act offended, but you’re… not. This is actually fucking working, it’s unbelievable. The undeniable fact infuriates you just as much as it stumps you.

“You do realize that everything you say is a game that two can play at, right?” You point out, not really sure where you’re going with this but feeling heated about it all the same. “What’s stopping me from exploiting something you like?”

“See now that’s a great idea,” Dameron announces, clapping his hands together happily and sending you jumping a few inches in your seat at the sudden sound, your hand automatically shooting up to rest on your thumping heart. “I can tell you what I like, and you can just listen.”

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

“How about I tell you what I don’t like,” you snip breathlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks. Default to normal, default to normal. “Your fucking attitude. Your demeanor. The way you talk down to me. You don’t listen. You walk around like you’re such hot shit just because you’re a good pilot but none of that means anything when you don’t ever fucking listen. You’re terrible at it, doesn’t matter who’s talking—you don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to people who actually like you, you don’t listen to orders, you don’t listen to reason—”

“You think I’m a good pilot?” He suddenly asks, and you have to take a second. This cockpit isn’t designed for anything other than sitting, much less turning all the way around, but you’re sure you can find some way to throttle him from here. He chuckles as you let out the loudest sigh you’ve ever heard yourself make—which, is an incredible feat you think both of you should be congratulated for—before Dameron eventually carries on. “You could tell me that,” he admits with a shrug, a hidden smile on his face that he’s trying to bite back. “Or you could tell me the truth.”

You shouldn’t encourage him, but you just can’t fucking help it. There’s something inside you, something you can only compare to a morbid sort of curiosity. Maybe you’re just a glutton for punishment, even more so than agreeing to this bet has already confirmed. “And that would be—?”

“That you use anger as a defense mechanism because I touch a nerve you didn’t realize you had,” Dameron replies breezily. “Have since the moment we met. And that you maybe want me to touch something else, but you’re too stubborn and proud and committed to hating me to ever admit it. You can admit it, it’s okay, I can touch whatever you need me to tou—”

“How about the emergency eject button?” You hiss, finally feeling your frustration peak. “Pop the top on this bitch. Put me out of my fucking misery, right now. You’ve got such a big head that the blood flow will probably keep your tiny little brain warm enough as long as you strap yourself down beforehand, I’ll wait. And then you can go back to base, alone , and find another poor girl to emotionally torture since you probably don’t get enough of it from the ones you work your way through but can never remember the most basic things about.”

Remarkably, that actually shuts him up. You’re doubtful the jab really hurts him, but you’re not going to feel bad about it either way. He deserved that. You cross your arms over your chest and don’t even bother looking at him, huffing and flushed with the climax of your ferocity, now left feeling strangely exhausted in its wake. Eventually your breathing evens out and disappears into the silence, until nothing at all can be heard.

It’s like that for a moment—only a moment, before the loud tearing of velcro suddenly shreds through the quiet in the cockpit, completely rattling you. Automatically your eyes shoot over to his reflection, watching large hands pull the orange jumpsuit apart at his chest and then shrug it over broad shoulders. It’s not sexual. It can’t be sexual, because there’s just no fucking room to allow it—it takes him forever to pull the long sleeves down his arms, but the way he drags it out somehow just increases your anticipation for an event you should have absolutely no interest in spectating. He’s wearing a white sleeveless undershirt underneath and the jumpsuit bunches at his waist, making him look all the longer and more defined as he finally collapses back into his seat and reclines in it, the distant constellations bathing his lean torso in dim speckles of starlight.

Your gaze catches on every good part of him—it falls down the muscular lines of his neck and follows the thin gold chain wrapped around it, disappearing into the white of his scooping neckline. His toned body finds a place to rest and stretch out without looking awkward or uncomfortable, coarse hair darkening his jaw and dusting the strong lines of his forearms—but it’s his eyes that make your heart stutter. They’re endlessly deep and dark and knowing , and you can’t seem to look away from him, not even when he opens his mouth to address you.

“You’re always so fucking mean to me,” Dameron remarks, and for just a split second—just a split second, you feel a stab of regret. “I should eat you out tonight.”

Fuck, he hits the nail right on the head on his very first try, and just hearing the words come out of his mouth so effortlessly makes your pussy clench in on itself in need. Nothing about his inflection changed from one sentence to the next, nothing in his voice made it seem like he just flipped the fucking galaxy upside down with just a few words. To an onlooker who doesn’t speak Basic, they’d have absolutely no hint as to why your face is suddenly radiating heat at an industrial capacity, blazing hot enough to warm the whole cockpit. You feel like you’re literally burning up with it. You have to put a palm to your cheek to make sure it’s not actually on fucking fire. “What— what did you just say to me?”

“That’s what you need,” he drawls, unbothered by the sharpness of your tone. “What you’ve needed, ever since I can remember. Should’ve done it a long fucking time ago, now that I’m thinking about it. How long’s it been? Tell me the truth, I know it’s been awhile.”

You feel like you’re being roasted alive like one of those hairy little Kowakian monkey-lizards that you’re pretty sure have sentient designation but are the first to be skewered and cooked over the firepit regardless. Your heart is slamming against your sternum and you scramble to come up with an even slightly clever response after such an ambush.

“This is your plan?” You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your temple and onto the corner of your lashes. Oh fuck, be cool, be cool. “You think this is gonna work? Ask me if I want a weak orgasm and rugburn on my thighs?”

“I can shave,” Dameron proposes quietly, lifting his chin and gently scrubbing the side of his cheek. The sound of the thick bristles against his fingers makes you swallow thickly and push back very vivid thoughts of how his face would feel between your legs. How soft and wet his mouth would feel at the center of that thick, coarse beard. “Tonight, I’ll shave it off. Make it nice and smooth for you.”

Something inside you surges up to assure him he absolutely should not shave, and you actually have to bite your tongue to keep it buried at the last second. Stars, that was a close one, what the fuck prompted that?

“I don’t give a shit what you do,” you quickly return, resisting the urge to wipe your brow. “Beard or no beard, makes no difference. Foreplay is overrated, I’m not big on wasting time.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he immediately laments—so quick , and the worst part is that the sympathy in his voice actually sounds sincere. You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes right now, hearing the genuine pity come through in his tone. “Who… who did this to you?”

“You said you want to figure out what I like, what turns me on,” you return, tucking your hair behind your ear once more and trying not to sound self-conscious. Maker, how long until your shift is over? You need to get out of here, this shit is… way out of your league. “I’m not into it, so try again.”

“Really?” Dameron takes a moment to look at you, furrow his thick eyebrows at you in barely concealed curiosity, before his head tilts sideways and drops to his shoulder. “Normally I’d respect that, but I meant it when I said you need it.”

“We fucking hate each other, Dameron,” you hiss, a reminder to him as much as it is to yourself. Fuck, you really don’t like where this is going. “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what the I n—”

“I bet you think we’d fuck hard,” he murmurs, low enough that you have to take an unsteady breath and physically brace yourself for whatever is going to come from that dirty mouth next. “You think that maybe I’d throw you around a little, give it to you from behind, teach you a fucking lesson for always talking back to me. But that’s primitive shit, Gold-Ten, that’s not for you.”

Resist. Resist . You’re part of the fucking Resistance, for Maker’s sake, you’re taught to hold out until death in torture scenarios. Since when did this tin can suddenly become a new POW camp simulation you have to train for?

“I want to take you apart so slow that you can’t talk at all,” Dameron continues quietly, and you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting. “We don’t even have to fuck—I mean, I want to, but mostly I just want to taste you. Go nice and slow. I want you on your back, so I can look in your eyes and see all that anger just… fade away. I want to watch you try to fight how fucking good I’ll make it. How hot it’s gonna be when you can’t glare at me anymore, when your pretty doll eyes go all soft and sweet and you finally realize that I’ve never hated you at all.”

Maker. This is a trick. It’s not a question, it shouldn’t be presented like one—this is a dirty rotten trick , and you’re not gonna fall for it. You can’t fucking fall for it. It’s a low blow, and you refuse to even acknowledge he said anything at all. He’s lying to get your guard down. He laughed at your flirting. He’s a shit person, he’s using you, this isn’t real.

Real or not, you still gulp loud enough for him to hear it.

“We could go back to our room after our shift is over,” he offers out of the blue, and you have no clue why, but when he pauses and lets it hang in the air for a second, you don’t interrupt him. You stay completely silent while he waits for you, waits for your typical snarky comeback. You have it in your head instantly, you know what you’d normally say. Your room. It’s not ‘our’ room, it’s fucking your room that you’re generous enough to let him bunk in, a privilege he’s this fucking close to losing—but you can’t find it in yourself to say it right now. Your anger is gradually losing the war to your arousal and you’re forced to watch every single small defeat inside you happen from the sidelines.

His reflection blinks at you through the transparisteel, his eyebrows raising just slightly at your prolonged silence, before he suddenly sits up a little and leans forward.

“And I could lock the door,” Dameron continues, lowering his voice, both in volume and register. “The lights in there are way too fucking bright but I don’t want to be in complete darkness, so maybe we can turn them off and open the port shade, let just enough light come through to see. I could turn on the radio, find something quiet, easy to listen to. Something you like, I’ll let you pick it out. And then… Wait, hang on, which bed?”

You clench your jaw and purposefully say nothing even as your pussy squeezes, glaring right through his reflection into the black void of space.

“Mmm. Your bed,” he eventually decides. “I want you comfortable. You shower at night. Your hair will be wet and you’ll be in those baggy pajamas that you think I can’t see your nipples through, the ones that I know you take off under your covers and then put on in the morning when you think I’m still asleep. That’s good, I want you relaxed, so that maybe… maybe you’d let me take your panties off at some point. And you could lay back and open your legs, and I could go down on you for a little while. However long you need.”

Fuck.

No, this isn’t fucking happening. Your lower muscles aren’t twisting in so hard that it actually fucking hurts, your pussy isn’t leaking through two layers of fabric under your jumpsuit, your body isn’t outright revolting against the sheer neglect you’ve put it through. Maker, it’s fucking painful. You have to clench your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your palms before you can open your mouth.

“You want to know what I need?” You nearly wheeze, a drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck this time. Your body feels like it’s three sizes too big for this cockpit and your skin feels like it’s three sizes too small for your body. “I need you to shut the fuck u—”

“What you need,” Dameron purrs, sliding up closer behind your seat and sighing soft against the worn material of your headrest, “is a warm mouth to cum in. Don’t be shy, pretty baby, you can tell me.”

You growl out his last name as threateningly as you possibly can before he purrs yours right back in your ear, and fuck, you’ve never heard it sound so sexual before. Last names allow pilots to maintain a respectful distance from each other. Flight designations are Resistance-wide, but last names are just… allies. Not friends, not companions, but a vast network of people brought together by a common enemy. It hurts to lose a first name. But the way yours sounds rolling off of Dameron’s tongue is just too sinful, too intimate when calling you that is meant to sever intimacy by design. He says it slow and makes it dirty, muddies it in the back of his throat as he slides up even closer to you, until his face is right next to yours as you stare at each other through the transparisteel.

“I’m really…” he pauses, before exhaling through his nose and swallowing thick enough to make his Adam’s apple drop and bounce up again, his tongue coming out to wet his plush lips as he blinks slowly at you with a heavy gaze, “… really good at it. Call me Poe and I’ll do it for you all night.”

Shit, your pussy is just a fucking mess right now. It feels like it’s melting sweet and syrupy all over your thighs, throbbing and pounding and clamping up and screaming at you to do something, at least press your hand down there to alleviate some of the aching tensi—

No— stars, no touching yourself is rule number two. You drop your hands to your thighs and squeeze them, trying to reign yourself back in.

“I think you’re—just projecting,” you try, but turns out responding in general is just an all-around bad idea. Nothing about it comes out right. The ‘just’ sounds like your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and your voice cracks on the word ‘projecting,’ but you don’t even have time to be self-conscious or embarrassed at how much you’re giving yourself away—all your energy has to go towards fighting the tightness between your open legs, how you’re so fucking turned on that you’re worried you’ll cum without even touching yourself. Oh Maker, can you imagine? How fucking proud of himself he’d be? You can’t let that happen, but fuck, holding back something so appealing is so much harder than it sounds.

Tap into that anger, tap into that anger—only, you can’t suddenly find it. Where’d it go? Fuck, doesn’t matter, conjure it. Quick, before it’s too late, get mad —don’t let him lure you into a… a false…

Dameron tilts his chin down towards the line of your shoulder and then slowly turns his head towards your neck, breathing you in gently.

A false sense of…

His soft exhale makes goosebumps break out all the way down your arms.

… What?

“Maybe you’re right,” Dameron acknowledges, talking just under your ear. You watch his eyelids dip and the dark beard brushes against your skin and you catch just a hint of that woodsy, spicy scent engulfing you. Like… teakwood, maybe? Stars, you don’t know, you think you’re starting to lose your mind. What the fuck does teakwood even smell like? “Maybe it’s just what I need. You should exploit it, chances are I’ll still cum first.”

That rockets another painful spasm down low. It hurts so fucking bad—fuck, maybe you could… rub yourself up against these weapons controls? Just a little bit? That joystick, right there, just ease yourself up against it just to nurse this wound a little bit…?

No, fucking— bad. That’s bad, you have to stop—

“This isn’t real, this isn’t—y-you just…” You flutter your eyelashes shut, digging your fingernails into your thighs like it’ll help break through the fog of his lulling voice, how fucking amazing he smells right now. “You just want to win th-the b—”

“ Fuck the bet,” he tells you quietly, his head dipped low enough now that his lips brush against your neck, and you shudder so hard at the sensation that your shoulder almost knocks into his chin with it. “You really think I’m doing all this for a fucking bet?”

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t—

Your deep breath is so stuttery and uneven that it’s technically just a series of shallow inhales all anxiously strung together, too desperate for oxygen to go about it legato. It’s painfully obvious to him by now, it has to be, but you very quickly miss the shaky breathing as soon as he takes away your ability to do it all together.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with how gentle it is, how it sounds like it flips in and out of his register when he speaks this low. “Right now, let’s make it real, let m—I know you have to be soaking fucking wet, baby, just let me try a little bit of it, please—I’m… holy shit, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“You c-can’t,” you stammer, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. At him, at the situation, at the painful throb of emptiness between your legs. “Fuck, it’s not allowed, it’s against the rules—”

“It won’t be,” he assures you, and you hiccup when you suddenly feel his hand brush against your side, strong fingers branching out to curve against your ribcage. “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay just like this. Just a few seconds and then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Oh, Maker, it’s on the very top of your tongue, so unbelievably close to telling him something—but you don’t know what it should be. You’re right at the tipping point, on a tightrope right between what you want and what you should want. And, knowing you’re this close to giving in, Dameron slowly eases his hand down your side and starts to trail it inwards, and just the lightest brush of his warm tongue against your neck shatters any composure you have left.

You whimper and instinctively try to close your legs, but you fucking can’t— your knees are forced wide apart by controls and your whole body freezes when his hand slides down and folds gently along the curve of your pussy through the thick fabric of your jumpsuit.

The feeling of being held like this by him is just too good , cradled so perfectly in his palm as he opens his mouth and flutters his tongue out to taste your skin again, giving you a little more of it this time and letting you feel the roughness of his beard with the way his lips move. Your breath catches, then he hooks his fingertips up just the slightest bit and pulls back, and you suddenly have to smack your whole hand over your face in a terrible attempt to stifle your loud gasp.

“Oh, Maker, I c-can’t,” you stammer against your fingers, not being able to trust him or your own body. You continue to protest even after he moves back up, resting his palm low on your abdomen, letting the heat bleed through the fabric and transfer directly to your floor muscles as he lifts his head up from your shoulder. “I can’t, we can’t, I…”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s looking at you. He’s staring right at you through the reflection, studying the way you’re hiding your face from him, how you’re still melting, still losing your composure just from the warm palm pressed tight your tummy.

His touch leaves you for a second. But then the deafening sound of velcro ripping at the crotch of your jumpsuit has you dragging your hand down your mouth and your eyelids dipping.

“Dameron,” you breathe into your fingers, just as his carefully slip into the small opening and begin to work at the button to your pants. “Dameron, this isn’t—you don’t want—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I don’t want,” he grunts at you, and you try not to bite yourself at the sound of him unzipping things and yanking fabric to the side. “What I really fucking want is the real thing, but I guess this’ll have to do for now.”

“I—” Your mind whirs desperately, trying to process when his fingers wedge under your panties and down. But he doesn’t give you a single fucking second. As soon as the tip of his middle finger reaches your slit, he’s dropping it and sliding it through your slick, hot, unbearably neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” he spits, and you feel like you might be about to break your own fucking jaw with how hard you’re clutching it, trying so desperately not to make a noise. The pad of his finger is rough and calloused as it drags against your clit in slow, tight circles, and you clamp your eyes shut and try to breathe normally, but it’s no use. Fuck , it’s been so long . You’ve been aching for it for a full fucking month and a half now and you know that even if he couldn’t feel it, he can hear how drenched you are right now. It’s making an obscene sound as he steadily masturbates you with one heavenly finger, giving your body what it’s desperately craved for so many weeks. “Fuck, baby’s pussy got fucking wet hearing me talk about how good I’d lick it, huh?”

That sends a bright flare launching through you and you gasp raggedly, both hands whipping out to snatch at his forearm where it disappears between your legs. “No, shit, wait, stopstopstopstop stop , I—”

His hand slips out immediately and yet you continue to tremble like his finger is still right there, like your clit is just imagining it so vividly that it’s successfully convincing itself of the illusion. The aching bit of flesh is burning, that good burn, the one that’s searing and bright that makes your muscles continue to chase the sensation long after the stimulation is gone. Fuck, he almost made you cum. He barely touched you for a few seconds and yet your fingers have to tighten into claws to slow your body down the fuck down, flexing against your thighs and trying your best to halt the impending climax.

By the time you’re able to wrangle yourself back from the edge and look at his reflection, his middle finger is already in his mouth and he’s blinking slowly at you, his pupils blown wide. You’re breathing hard at him, staring open-mouthed at the way his lips are closed below his second knuckle, how he takes forever dragging it back out again. You have to close your eyes. You have to clamp them shut and keep them that way, knowing you won’t be able to look at him through whatever he’s going to say next.

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping his mouth to your neck once more. “Shhhit. I…”

Your eyes snap open in sudden, blind panic when he doesn’t continue, horrified at the possibility that he doesn’t like it. Dameron always has something to say, he doesn’t go speechless. “Oh—Maker, is it not—?”

“Mmmfuck, just—” he grits, panting hot air against your skin, “—fuck. Give me a second.”

You can only see the crown of his head with the way he’s angled, but you can see his shoulders a little further back. They start… moving slightly. Just the littlest bit, a smooth motion, like his whole body is slowly easing back and forth—

The nav controls are between his legs, you immediately realize. He’s grinding up against them with how close he is to you and your seat.

And suddenly, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. A ray of sunshine that breaks through the raging storm. Dameron might cum in his pants like this. Which means you’ll win, and arguably more importantly, you’ll finally be able to cum. You don’t even take a moment to consider the potential consequences—how you’re going to have to withstand the stimulation until he succumbs to it, how you’ll have to outlast—but you’re not thinking straight. You’re not really thinking at all.

“You can…” you suddenly hear yourself whisper, and your heart pounds in your throat when he instantly stops moving. “One… one more. If you want. You can put your finger inside this time, it’s where I’m the… w-wettest.”

“Fuck,” Dameron croaks into the crook of your neck, his voice scraping low and rough and sending a tremor through you. “Fuck, okay, yeah—”

His hand slides across your hip and down, but you catch him just in time.

“But don’t touch my clit.” You try to sound as firm as possible through the breathlessness, still trying to put your foot down even when you’re giving in, and Dameron’s teeth come out as he stifles a soft groan into your neck in response.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs obediently as his hand sinks down once more, and so diligently, he avoids it altogether. His fingers slide under your panties and fall straight down to your entrance, down to where you know you’re the hottest, where your pussy is flexing and pushing wetness out with a steady, wicked throb. The pad of his middle finger presses gently against the tight muscles there, rubs just the slightest bit to feel that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you so slowly that your knees rattle against bulky metal.

“Fucking Maker , ” he hisses as he slides it in, his body making a sudden jerk against the controls.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of something inside you after so long, after such a torturous buildup, and you grasp at his forearm again when it curls naturally up against searing pleasure. Oh, it’s so good, it’s so good, your hands shake while he very carefully moves it in and out, the raw sparks of heat threatening to incinerate you as your muscles cling to every ridge of his finger. He gets it sopping wet, bathes it so completely in your slick that you’re almost certain it’ll come out pruny and drenched.

“Shit, okay,” you pant, squeezing desperately around his finger, “o-okay, fuck, that’s enough.”

His hand pulls out… slower this time. He slips his finger out of you quick enough, but he drags the tip of it through your folds as he retreats, just barely grazing your clit and making you jolt in your seat. Shit, you don’t know if it felt intentional enough to fault him for it—mostly it just excites you, thrills you to have him edge you like this without really needing to put any effort at all into it.

Dameron lifts his head to sink his finger deep into his mouth once more, and you tremble as you watch him enjoy it, staring at the way his shoulders seem to relax as soon as your taste is on his tongue, how his face goes soft with it and he almost slumps.

Relief. Genuine, not embellished. He still doesn’t say anything after he slowly slides it out and blinks at you, no sugar sweet drawl telling you how amazing you taste, no candied words to make you give in and let him have another go. You’re both breathing hard at each other, staring, waiting to see who will break first.

Stars, you… fucking like this. You want him to keep going, but you can’t offer it again. It’s just too exposing, too revealing to let him you’re actually really fucking enjoying this, you can’t—

“Do you w—?” Your voice automatically comes out through the silence without your permission, sounding just absolutely fucking wrecked by this point, but his palm is already slithering back down as soon as you speak, and you make the softest little submissive noise in your throat at him taking immediate initiative like that. He’s not as careful about it this time—his hand finds its target with less frill, his finger slides in quicker, sinking deep into your heat with little hesitation, lighting you on fire from the inside out, and you bite the meat of your thumb to stay quiet.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he suddenly breathes next to your ear while your legs spasm and you gasp brokenly. “This is so—fuck, pretty baby letting me do this to her, I can’t fucking believe—”

Dameron eases a second finger inside you this time, letting you feel that delicious stretch from this angle, unable to lift your legs or shuffle around to help and subsequently resigned to simply experience it the way he gives it to you. Your teeth have probably permanently indented your bottom lip from how hard you’re clamped down, a testament to how much you’re trying to hold back the loud moan you miraculously haven’t released yet. Somehow it makes it sexier, not letting him hear you, not having your own noises to drown out the spark of urgency in his voice beginning to peek through.

Shit, it’s too much. You can only let him touch you a few seconds at a time before you feel that familiar tug towards mind-numbing bliss, and the more he does it, the more appealing that feeling then becomes. It’s teasing you, floating right in front of you and calling into question what could possibly be so bad about just reaching out to meet it? You could. You could cum right now. What’s two weeks of pay? You could cum all night long if you want, that is a thing you can do—

Quickly snapping out of your hypnotic downfall, your trembling hands snatch at his forearm once more, and Dameron, the fucker, drags his fingers slowly over your clit on the way out— so not accidental, not even close to it this time, but the sensation makes your hips stutter upwards and chase it nonetheless.

“Fuck you,” you groan at his audacity, your chest arching as you drop your head back, “I said don’t touch my—” but two wet fingers slipping past your lips and onto your tongue muffle the rest of your sentence. Your heart does half a somersault before slamming down early, the taste of your pussy filling your mouth as you automatically start sucking on them.

“None of that,” Dameron tells you softly, massaging his fingers along your tongue before pressing a sweet kiss under your ear. “Be nice. I’m being nice.”

You should bite him. Instead, you just close your eyes and mphh weakly around his fingers, your body sagging as you give into it and let him explore your mouth with them, your lower muscles cramping up in painful desperation even when he’s not anywhere near that part of your body right now. Your tongue even comes up to lick between them, swirl around them so soft compared to how hard you’re puffing through your nose.

Dameron slowly inches his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest against your bottom lip for just a brief moment, before his hand is moving again. Not down, but back and around, so he can open his mouth and taste you another way this time.

Shit, you feel like you’re dying. You need air. Your hands clench into fists and you use the back of one to wipe the sweat from the bridge of your nose while he takes his time sampling you like this. If anything, he looks just as blissed out as before, continuing to rub his crotch up against the solid metal between his legs and teasing you with it as much as he’s teasing himself.

“Maker, let me do this for real tonight, okay,” Dameron pants after dropping his fingers from his mouth, sounding like he’s fighting for his breath while you can’t find yours at all. Your eyes flick down to watch the way his hand disappears behind the chair to grab the controls and push his cock up against them even harder, how he drops his forehead to your neck like he just can’t fucking handle it anymore. “Fuck, I’ll shave, I’ll do anything you want, just let me—”

“Cum,” you gasp out before you can stop yourself, and there’s a moment after it where his hips suddenly stutter against the controls, and you both freeze.

Shit. Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

No, you very quickly realize, his body isn’t spasming like it would if he finally emptied his load after a month and a half. He’s just… holding there, his head buried in your neck, completely still.

You didn’t mean it like that. Well… fuck, you did, but you didn’t realize you’d be that reckless about it, that upfront about reissuing the challenge.

Dameron pulls back to look at you from the side this time, but it’s too cramped—he keeps his head turned facing you even as his eyes flick up to the transparisteel to take in the finer details of your features, the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, and the slightly alarmed way you’re blinking back at him, worried you just shot your blaster at him in the midst of a mutual ceasefire and you fucking missed.

You see the understanding in his eyes instantly fall into place, and it’s not fucking good. Ohhhhhh no, it’s not good. Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, suddenly registering the position you just put yourself in. Fuck, you didn’t think—you saw your opening, so clearly, you didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

“D-Dameron…” you try your best to placate.

“Don’t touch your clit?” He asks quietly, the raspiness of his voice ripping a hole through you while his hand suddenly shoves its way back down your body once more.

“Dameron,” you whimper, your heart stuttering in panic as you grasp weakly at his arm reaching between your spread thighs, “Dameron, this is—this is against the r-rules—”

“You keep saying that,” he comments, his fingers easily finding the opening in your jumpsuit no matter how hard you flex your thighs against bulky mechanics to try and close them. “How clearly do you remember the rules? What were the rules again?

You open your mouth to respond but his hand sliding under your panties and down just obliterates any chance you were going to attempt. No words, nothing comes out but a shaky whine as his finger sinks into your soaking heat, going right for the kill.

“Come on, baby, the rules,” Dameron reminds you when you never give him an answer. “Tell me. No fucking, no jerking off, and…?”

You suddenly struggle forwards in a last-ditch attempt at preventing the inevitable, hoping you can scoot up enough in your seat to escape his reach from behind. But fuck, your thighs have been shoved wide open for nearly eight hours—none of the muscles are working the way they should be anymore. There’s just enough room in front of you to get there and you probably would’ve been able to do it at the beginning of the shift, even with his hand between your legs like this, but you’re sluggish and your thighs pull sharp and urgent with the movement. The frantic maneuver enough to veer his fingers off course just slightly, moving one of your lips to the side at an angle, and you keep pushing against the pain no matter how useless it is.

“—No cumming,” he finishes for you, and his other hand is slithering up under your arm and groping one of your breasts through the jumpsuit before shoving you back tight up against your seat once more, totally helpless against it. “Probably have another fifteen minutes or so before our shift ends. Better hold it in, pretty baby, because this one is all you.”

“This—this isn’t fair, this is—” The second the slippery pad of his finger presses hard against your clit, you’re biting your lip to cut off a breathless whimper that slips out. “This is… is sab— sabotage— ”

“Oh, I know,” he moans next to your ear, mocking your high plea of distress with a fake, overly sympathetic whine. “Feels so fucking good though, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, it does. The build feels like an orgasm in itself, just working your way to it. You’re already so unbelievably close after just a few seconds of direct stimulation, an obvious consequence of originally agreeing to such a hardcore edging workout. You’re pouring sweat, so swollen and tight between your legs as you do everything you can to revolt against your body’s needs.

“Oh fuck, stop touching my clit—” you gasp raggedly, heart thundering in panic while your lower muscles start to immediately seize up, “oh—fuckfuckfuck— Poe, take your finger off m—”

Instead of doing it, his hand just slows down until the tip of his finger comes to a halt, maybe less than an inch over top of it. You still can’t catch your breath though, not when you feel yourself throbbing against absolutely nothing, the calloused pad holding perfectly still over the bundle of nerves. The swollen bud still arcs and flares at a steady frequency, building and building, and you choke out a wordless garble, absolutely fucking furious that this is what’s gonna make you cum.

“Don’t make me cum,” you switch up your sentence but not the terrified plead in your voice, the way it’s pitching up and out of control in the dead quiet of space. He doesn’t even acknowledge it. “Don’t make me cum, don—”

“Say it again,” he prompts instead, and lightning arcs up your spine.

“Poe,” you wheeze, the words coming from you without thought, your fingernails digging into his forearm even as your hips jerk up into his touch, “fuck, don’t make me cum, Poe—please don’t make me c—”

“But it’ll be so good,” he counters lowly, and your clit throbs in desperation at the richness of his voice when he speaks like this, saying things from deep in his chest. “It’ll be so fucking good when it happens. Stars, you’ll feel so much better, won’t you? Cum right now and I’ll give you as many as I can until we have to go home.”

“N-No,” you whine, feeling his teeth scrape at the crook of your neck. “No, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” Dameron raises his voice, sharpening it into a direct order. “Right now. Come on— fucking make yourself lose.”

“But I—I—” you sob, starting to feel your body curl inwards, nearly about to succumb to the burning, the tightening, right on its last breath, “I-I don’t want to cum—”

“And I don’t fucking care,“ he hisses while your hands start flexing unintentionally, grasping helplessly at his immovable forearm where it disappears between your legs, the dark hair sliding under your fingertips as you claw desperately at it. “You’ll fucking cum when I tell you to cum and you’ll like it, you disrespectful, cock-deprived, bratty little—”

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally. The stars disappear.

The cockpit is suddenly shrouded in pitch blackness, and you’re almost certain it’s because you pass out, except then Dameron is all but ripping his hand out of your jumpsuit and cursing repeatedly in alarm. You crumple in on yourself, eyes clamped shut and not hearing anything, right at the peak of your ecstasy and ready to soar into the light completely unassisted, your muscles doing all the work on their own—

“—shit, they’re way too close—” you hear his voice shout, “—we have to turn the engines on—Gold-Ten, baby, turn the fucking eng—”

You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna fucking—

Your first name, roared out in startling, blinding panic.

You don’t often hear it. Just during roll calls mostly, but only if you’re flying with a different squadron and need a new temporary flight designation for the day. First names hurt. You can’t remember a time you’ve ever willingly told anybody yours.

Your head jerks up to look at his reflection but something else beyond the transparisteel takes immediate precedence. Your brain takes about two seconds to catch up before thundering terror slams through you and halts your previously inevitable orgasm in its fucking tracks. A runaway train about to launch off its tracks suddenly slamming directly into a megaton force-field of cold, hard fight or flight instincts.

A staggering fleet of First Order ships silently plunging out of hyperspace on all sides—your powered-down x-wing stationed right in the middle of the drop location.

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

#poe x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #SMUTTTT #reader insert #star wars #fanfic #the formatting on this one is downright horrendous but im so mad that i cant even fix it right now so thatll have to come later im sorry

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