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yeonzzzn · 25 days

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I'm in a spooky vibe rn and I've been thinking about one of the enha members (hyung line) with a scream mask ( y'know from the movie sjshsj) about to m*rder reader but idk they get turned on and both got freaky 🫦

fffuuuuccccckkkk anon your brain is 😍 love this idea so much (fun fact scream is my favorite slasher movie and I even have a ghost face tattoo) I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for🤭 it’s funny because I also main ghost face in dead by daylight so when I saw this request I got SOOOO happy ~ I also made this a lot longer than I expected to but oops🤭🤭

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chill & kill: sim jaeyun

part one of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 6.4k

You sit up on the couch, eyes widening as you grab the TV remote and turn up the volume.

“The mysterious ghost face kill strikes again, killing two more college students in the library this morning. The bodies were discovered by…”

You quickly shot to your feet, grabbing your jacket and camera and slipping your feet into your boots tying them quickly as you slipped out your dorm door.

You never were so happy to live on campus as you ran from the dorm building and across campus to the library. Students surrounded the main entrance and you pushed your way through finally seeing the inside of the library.

“Hey!” a police officer yelled at you when you slipped under the caution tape, “You can’t be back here!”

You eyed him, pulling out your student journaling ID, “I have every right to be here.”

The officer tried to protest, but you kept your stride, making your way to the bodies ignoring the yelling officer behind you.

The closer you got, the more the smell of blood filled your senses, making your skin crawl. Your journaling partner was already on the scene, standing at the edge of the other caution tape marking off the two bodies.

You stood beside him, your heart sinking as you took in the bodies of the two females lying dead in front of you. They were just freshmen. Barely made it into college and fully started their lives.

From what you could see, they were stabbed multiple times in the chest and abdomen. One of their necks was slit, and the other looked like they were stabbed through their throat. They suffered, for sure.

“Who found them?” you asked him, taking your eyes off the dead bodies and turning to your partner. He had one arm crossed over his chest and gripped his elbow as his other arm was reached up and fingers gripping his chin.

He slowly tilted his head to look at you, streaks of his black hair fell into his eyes, “Funny enough,” he sighs, “Sunghoon and myself.”

You completely turned your whole body to him, “That’s why you’re here before me?! Jake, what happened?!”

Jake chucked, “You're more worried that I was here before you?” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he sighed again, completely wrapping his arms over his chest, looking back at the bodies. You could have sworn you saw a sparkle glint in his eyes. Jake has always been excited to be on the scene, same as you. But he enjoyed it a little bit more than you. He’ll make one damn good detective one day for sure, “Wanted to check out a book and saw the door already unlocked for the campus not even fully being opened yet. And that's when we found the bodies.”

“Where is Sunghoon now?” you asked, looking around the library, spotting him with the librarian and being questioned by a detective.

You went to walk over, to ask him questions, but Jake stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you towards him, his arm wrapping around over your chest, “Don’t question him, he’s really shaken up,” You wanted to protest, only for Jake to squeeze you tightly against him, your back pressing further into his chest, “Please, YN, he’s my best friend. I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

You sigh and nod. Letting Jake take the lead with this one.

But you still had a job to do. So you pulled out your camera, taking a few photos. Once you finished with the photos, you pulled your journal from your back pocket, asked Jake a few questions, and took his account down then turned back to the bodies and took your own notes.

You circled the area, taking in every inch and piece of information you could. Jotting down everything in your little notebook.

Jake kept his eyes on you, watching you do your thing. His eyes sparkled more the longer his eyes lingered on you. He eventually dropped his gaze and went back to looking at his best friend, watching as he sat at one of the tables, knees pressed to his chest and hands curled into his hair. The small smile Jake had fell at the sight of his best friend and—

“Jake!” You called for him, bringing his attention back to you, “I think I found something.”

“Oh?” He walks over to you and kneels down on the floor beside you, your camera resting on your knees as you point your finger toward one of the dead girls, “What am I looking at honey?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, “Under her body, there’s a black glove,” you looked at Jake. His jaw clenched tightly, “The killer must have accidentally lost it, dropped it, or whatever. Maybe she fought them or something. I don’t know. But I want to figure it out.”

You took a few close-up photos of the glove and turned back around to show Jake, noticing a scratch mark sliding down the left side of his neck. You hadn’t seen it before since you were standing on his right side, but it looked deep and irritated, “What happened there?” You reached up to touch it, but he grabbed your hand quickly and set it down at your side.

“Hoon and I were wrestling earlier at our apartment and I hit the side of our entertainment center, I am fine.”

You thinned your lips into a line, boys will be boys you guess. Their apartment was a lot smaller than the dorms on campus, they must have been fucking around at a good spot to have knocked Jake into their entertainment center.

Eventually, the police shooed you and Jake off the scene. Forcing you two to head to the journaling office. You printed off the photos you took and made copies of your notes, passing them to Jake.

You glanced at the clock, it was now ten thirty am and classes would be resuming like normal, so you and Jake went your separate ways.

Jake was still new to being a journalist. You were a club of two, consisting of just you and another girl who helped write the articles for you while you took care of the rest. She wrote her own things, mostly on the sports or other small crimes that happen on campus, but with the ghost face killer making his rounds, you took up the role of this case with her helping on the side. At first, you took it all on yourself, but as the body count started piling up, you needed the help. So you let her help and put out an application for an extra set of hands, which Jake answered.

You’ve seen him around campus before he joined you. Was born and raised in this town. Being the town's sweetheart and golden puppy boy. You did some research on him before allowing him into your club, can’t have the killer join you, right?

He was the captain of his soccer team in middle and high school. Has taken his school’s team to the championships multiple times and was the heartthrob of the school. He donated to charity when he could and volunteered at the police station on the weekends in hopes of landing a good detective job there after graduation. He was the whole definition of a straight-A good boy student. Perfect for your team. He became your partner and you taught him everything you knew. When Jake joined, the body count from this ghost face killer was only three. But with the two bodies that were found today, it was now at fifteen.

In between your classes, you found yourself back at the club office, pinning the new photos to the corkboard in the back of the room, wrapping red string between the pushpins and possible suspects. After staring at the corkboard for what felt like hours, the other female club member came in and you helped her write the article. Give her your notes and advising as she writes.

Jake popped in and out of the office as well, brainstorming with you about the suspects and the time of events that happened. You both spun in circles that led to nowhere. You ask Jake again about speaking to Sunghoon, and he shoots you down, “Give him some time. I’ll get the police report soon and it’ll help, I am sure.”

A week has gone by since the murder in the library. You ended up shifting the corkboard from the office and into the corner of your kitchen, using the fluorescent light of the kitchen bulbs to light the board more. You leaned against the back of your couch, it being the furthest you could step away from the board. Biting at your nails as your eyes scanned every murder case. Every newspaper article and police report on the board.

Nothing made sense. Nothing connected. Whoever this killer was, they were good. Covered their tracks without so much as a piece of hair at any scene of their crimes. Until the glove.

You ran your hands into your long hair, scratching at the back of your head. You needed that police report that Jake still has yet to give you. Needed to speak to Sunghoon. There were missing pieces and those two things were important. You looked over to the clock above the kitchen sink. It was almost one thirty in the morning. But you still got up and slid into your sneakers, pulled your jacket on, and bounced out the door.

Finding yourself in front of Jake and Sunghoon’s front door, knocking loudly. There was no answer. So you did the next best thing and called Jake’s cell phone.

There was some shuffling on the other end of the door and a groan. The door opened and you find a half-awake Jake before you, his hair a mess and spreading in every direction, wearing a plain white tee shirt and a pair of black and blue checkered boxers, “YN,” he sleepily growled and then yawned, “It’s almost two am, what is it?”

“Can I have the police report?”

Jake blinked at you, “Huh?”

You crossed your arms, “The police report. Can I have it?”

Jake let out another yawn, “It’s at the school, in the office.”

Of course, it was. And the campus is closed and if you get caught sneaking in just to get a piece of paper…You sigh, “Thanks anyway,” you softly say, and turn around to walk down the stairs but stop, “Can I talk to Sunghoon?”

Jake scoffs, leaning against the doorframe, “It’s almost two am,” he repeats, “Why are you out here so late? There’s a literal killer running around here.”

You knew that. And still took that risk to come out here. The killer had to be a student at your college. Every murder had been college kids. It had to be another student. That’s what made being out here so dangerous.

“I know,” you shrugged, “But I can’t stand by and do nothing.”

Jake frowned, “You know you’re allowed to actually be a college student right? Live a normal life too?” you shrugged again, and he just scoffed again, “YN, go home and rest. Let the detectives with actual badges handle it. We can only do so much.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Let me speak to Sunghoon.”

Jake stands his ground, “No. Go. Home. Before you get yourself killed.”

You roll your eyes, “See you tomorrow then.”

Jake mimicked your words and watched as you walked down the steps before walking back inside and going back to sleep.

You didn’t understand why Jake was so against you speaking to Sunghoon. Maybe he was being protective? Sunghoon didn’t look the best after finding the bodies. He was probably so shaken up. But it only made you want to speak to him more. And that need only grew more when you noticed Sunghoon’s car wasn’t in its normal parking spot beside Jake’s.

Meaning he wasn’t home.

You’ve respected Jake’s wishes on not to talk to Sunghoon, but this matter was getting serious and Sunghoon just might be the big break you needed. So you quickly walked off the apartment complex, glancing back to make sure Jake was outside, and pulled your phone from your pocket as you kept walking and dialed a number.

“Hello?”

“Sunghoon, where are you right now?”

—

You found him atop the bleachers of the soccer field just like he said he would be. A soccer ball sat between his feet, grass scuff marks were at the ends of his jeans, and sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows and sweat dripped down the side of his face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he came here to kick the ball around. Probably as a distraction.

You sat down beside him, “How are you holding up?”

Sunghoon scoffs, “Holding up as in a week ago I found two dead bodies in the middle of the library or holding up because I’ve been questioned left and right by everyone or my best friend/roommate has smothered me to stay home and take time.”

You felt bad for him, mostly for what you’re about to ask him. He wanted to obviously forget what he saw, who could blame him? It takes special people to see a dead body and not be fazed by it.

“I’m sorry for asking you to do this again…”

Sunghoon just shrugs, “If I am being honest, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.”

You raised your brow, “Yeah?”

He nodded, “Jake was against it,” he took a deep breath, “Something was off that day…with him.”

“What do you mean?” You placed a hand on his knee, “You can tell me anything. Start with the beginning.”

Sunghoon looked you in your eyes, then looked off into the distance at the field, “He told me that morning he was meeting our coach, for a one-on-one coaching session. At first, I didn’t think anything about it, being he was a soccer prodigy or whatever.” You nodded, remembering how much of the soccer star Jake was back in high school, “So you could probably understand my surprise when I got a call from our coach saying he tried to get ahold of Jake and then he confirmed with me that they did in fact not have a meeting that day.”

You sat back against the bleacher seat behind you, staring off onto the field, letting the gears in your brain slowly turn, waiting for Sunghoon to continue.

“I got scared, rushing out of the apartment and searching everywhere for him. Scared and thinking I was going to find my best friend murdered somewhere, ya know?” You understood, with this killer on the loose everyone was watching their backs and afraid. Who would be next? Who is next? “But I found him, lingering around the library building, digging through his soccer duffle bag. My heart almost stopped when I saw him…alive,” he took a deep breath, “So I confronted him, and he played it off that he did have a practice, but was with his coach from high school.”

You looked back at him, to read his face. Seeing how pale his skin was becoming, “I believed him at first, thinking maybe I misheard that morning. So we started walking back, but he kept digging through the duffle bag, looking frantic. He wasn’t acting himself. Said something about needing to go to the library, about finding a book or something, and then took off. But I followed after him. I didn’t want to leave him alone, not with ghost face running around. But when I got to the library, I…couldn’t find him. I saw him go through the back door instead of the front. But once I walked in and noticed all the doors were already unlocked…then I found the bodies.”

You squeezed his knee, “It’s okay.”

He nodded, swallowing and looking down at the soccer ball, “I smelt the blood first and then noticed their bodies. And then…then there were footsteps behind me and I knew that I was next. But the library walked in through the front entrance and started screaming, her eyes darting to me, saying we did it. I turned around to see Jake standing behind me. His skin was pale and sweaty. Eyes wide as he stared back at me and then at the bodies and the librarian. He’s never been surprised to see the bodies. He’s been working with you for over half a year. So when I saw the look on his face…the surprise that was there.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sunghoon kept going, “The weirdest thing is his duffle bag was missing from his shoulder,” Sunghoon scoffs, “How did it just disappear.” It was a good question. A very good one. “He hasn’t been the same since then.”

You tried to lighten the mood, “Maybe you knocked something loose in his head when the two of you wrestled the other day.” Sunghoon gave you a confused look, “You know? He said you two got too close to your TV stand and he got scuffed up by the edge of it. Making a scratch on his neck,” you pointed to the right side, tracing a finger down the side of your neck to mimic where Jake has his slowly fading scar now, “It’s right here.”

Sunghoon raised a brow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t wrestled inside the apartment.” Your smile faded. Sunghoon’s phone started vibrating and he pulled it from his pocket, seeing Jake’s caller ID on the screen, “Guess he noticed I wasn’t home.” Sunghoon locked his phone, ignoring the call, “I haven’t been telling him when I’ve left the apartment. So I better prepare myself with a talk when I get back.” He stood up and started walking down the bleachers, “Thank you for listening to me, I don’t want to suspect my best friend, and it probably isn’t even him. He’s just weird, I guess.”

You watched as he disappeared before standing up and finally finding yourself back at your dorm and in bed. Replaying Sunghoon’s story over and over, trying to piece it all together. It still didn’t make sense. None of it did. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from texting Jake, asking him to meet you at your dorm as soon as he could tomorrow, and him responding he had soccer practice but would be here right after.

—

“You should really keep your front door locked, YN, there’s a killer out there.” Jake teased you as he made himself at home, dropping his duffle bag into a chair at your kitchen table, his eyes going to the corkboard, “Make any progress yet?”

You stared down at the duffle bag quickly before looking up at him, then back to the board, “No I haven’t. I left my door unlocked on purpose. Knew you’d be coming here.”

Jake smiled at you and stood beside you at the back of your couch, looking at the board, “We’ll catch him, don’t worry honey.”

You glanced at him slightly, your heart winced at the nickname he’d given you. You looked to his neck, seeing the scratch still healing but faded, being nothing more than a pink line.

Jake looked down at you, giving a smile, “Can I freshen up in your bathroom? I bet I don’t smell the greatest from practice.”

You scrunch your nose, “Yes, please. You smell.”

Jake just rolls his eyes playfully and slides his hand up and down your back quickly before leaving your side, “I’m stealing your deodorant.”

You waited until you saw him turn the corner and heard the bathroom door close and lock before slowly walking to his duffle bag.

You didn’t want to suspect Jake anymore than Sunghoon did. But his story last night didn’t add up. No part of it did. Jake’s actions didn’t add up. Jake’s story he gave you didn’t match Sunghoon’s or the librarian's. None of the pieces were adding up no matter how much you tried to force the pieces together.

You looked down the hallway, then back at the bag, and slowly unzipped it, your hand flying to your mouth quickly to stop any noise from coming out. You took a couple of deep breaths and continued looking into the bag.

The police report you asked for along with the glove from the scene of the crime was in the bag in a ziplock bag. Along with the other matching glove and the ghost face mask and the black suit. You pulled the mask out of the bag with shaky hands. Why did Jake have these items? You knew. You knew why and still tried to find another explanation. But after seeing the contents of his bag…the pieces of the puzzle fit. Everything clicked and made sense.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to go through people’s things, honey?” before you could move, a knife was pressed to your neck and his other arm was wrapped around your waist, “I expected better from you than to snoop around.”

Jake’s hot breath was hitting your ear, sending chills down your spine. Any doubts you had were now out the window. Jake is ghost face. Jake is the killer.

“Keeping secrets is very rude too,” you retorted back, dropping the mask back into his bag, “But I figured you already knew that I found out, hint why you leave your bag so easily for me to look through.”

Jake chuckles, squeezing his arm around you and pressing the knife further against your skin, “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head at the movement of him brushing the side of his face to yours.

“Why did I do it?” he nuzzled his nose on the shell of your ear, “You’ll need to be specific, honey.”

You swallowed, “Everything.”

Jake chuckles again, “Because it’s fun.” It was such a simple yet spine-chilling answer, “You think I played this fucking good boy persona because I actually wanted to? No, no. I had to play that persona. To hide my secret. This is all a game to me, YN.”

“It’s why you joined our club,” you swallowed again, “To make it harder for us to figure you out.”

Jake shrugs, gently biting at the shell of your ear then rubbing his nose against it again, “I thought it would add to the fun, honestly. Yeah having an inside made it so much easier. It covered my tracks well. Until you started picking up on every. Fucking. Thing.” he hissed, tightening his grip, “You made it harder to cover up my tracks. Picking apart every smallest thing with each murder. I was lucky you didn’t suspect me, that was until you started poking your nose more into my business, you don’t think I didn’t know you tore the office apart looking for the police report before coming to my apartment? That you talked to Sunghoon even after I told you not to?”

“You have our phones and the office bugged,” this should surprise you, but it doesn’t. It made sense.

He pressed his lips to your ear, “Smart girl. Think I wouldn’t bug your phone? Or my best friends?”

“Jake, you were going to kill him, weren’t you.”

Another low chuckle, “Yes,” your body stilled, feeling cold, “It would have been a pity, really, to kill off my best friend all because he also stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.”

You looked down at his bag, seeing the bag gloved, “You went back to the library for the glove, you fucked up.”

He growled in your ear, “Shut up! That bitch fought me instead of taking it. I didn’t even realize my glove was gone until after I murdered them both and fled the scene. That’s when Sunghoon showed up. I knew I had to go back and find where the fuck my glove went before someone else did. I didn’t know he was following me until I went to go back and check the bodies after tearing apart the other side of the library and saw him standing there. I quietly set my bag in one of the reading rooms and locked the door, slipping my knife into the back of my jeans. Preparing myself to kill my best friend.”

“All to keep your fucking secret,” you snapped at him, his hands on your body getting tighter.

“Watch it, honey,” he hissed, “You do have a knife to your throat right now.”

“She fought you right? Probably knocked off your mask too. She saw your face, and you acted quickly and sliced her throat. Not before she left her own scratch on your neck.”

Jake nodded, a wide smile on his face, “Nothing gets past you. You’d make a great detective someday, honey.”

You needed to turn him in. Needed to get out of here and turn him in before he could kill anyone else. Fifteen. He’s murdered fifteen people. Probably more before he took up the ghost face mantle.

Jake pressed his chest to your back, “You know,” he whispers, “I’ve dreamed about doing this with you, my knife to your throat,” he rocked his hips against your ass, “It’s so fucking hot.”

It was now or never. You tilted your head to the side, taking the skin of his forearm between your teeth and biting hard.

“Fuck!” he shouted, his hand flexing and dropping the knife to the floor and his grip on you loosening.

You pushed him back with your back and sent him falling to his ass. You barely made it two steps away from him before both of his hands were on your ankles, tripping you to the floor and pulling you towards him.

You kicked your legs but not getting out of his strong grip. Jake worked fast to flip you over onto your back, his hands now at your wrists and holding them up and above your hand, pinning them to the floor. He straddled you, locking his legs around yours to keep you from wiggling them.

“Stop fighting me!” he growled, using all his weight to pin you to the floor.

You stopped, chest rising and falling as you stared up at his beautiful killing face.

He held your wrists down with one hand and reached for his knife with the other, chuckling as he once again held the knife to your throat, “You look so pretty like this baby, all underneath me like this.”

Jake was so turned on by this. He’s only dreamed of having you pinned underneath him with his favorite weapon against your skin. Dreamed what you’d sound and look like. This passed his expectations. It went even further than that. His cock twitched in his pants seeing the look of anger all over your face.

“You get horny every time you kill someone?” you spat out at him, the fire in your eyes burning.

Jake cocked his head, “You’re not afraid of me?”

“Why would I be afraid of a horn dog who likes killing people?”

Jake laughs, adjusting his legs from yours, using his knees to spread your legs apart, sliding himself between them, “Baby, you’re the only one I’ve ever got horny over. The others were just killings to kill. But you? You do something to me.”

From the moment Jake first saw you on campus he wanted to be buried balls deep in your cunt. Wanted to fuck you so hard as he softly made cuts on your arms to watch you bleed as your moans of pain and pleasure filled his ear holes. Wanted to cum so deep within you and make you his.

He had more than just joined the club to hide his killings as his reason. He wanted to get closer to you, get to know you. Then kill you after he got his dick wet. But what he didn’t expect was you figuring him out so soon. His plans got pushed up. He wanted you afraid of him as he killed you. He didn’t expect you to look at him with fury, so unafraid.

Jake leaned down, being inches away from your face, the knife pressing harder against your neck, “You get me so hard,” he rocked his hips between you, his hard cock rubbing against your clothed cunt. You tried to not whimper, to keep your firm face, but the effect he was having on you down south was obvious. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been crushing on Jake since he walked into the club for the first time. How couldn’t you? He was perfect. Still was as he sat atop you with a knife to your neck.

You relaxed your body, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it.”

Jake smiled, “Want me to?” He released your hands from his grip and slid the knife from your neck and down to your shirt, his free hand looping his fingers at the collar, using the knife to cut a line, tearing the fabric and exposing your laced bra and skin. Jake tucked his lip between his teeth. Fuck you looked so much better than what you did in his dreams. So much better than he imagined. He slid the tip of the knife down your chest, rounding it around your breast and down your sternum, “Where should I start?” He placed both hands at the sides of your head and bent down, lips brushing against yours, “Tell me, baby.”

You lifted your head, connecting your lips to his. Taking in the taste of his cherry chapstick and the softness of his lips. He rocked his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth, “Start by taking the rest of my clothes off.”

He laughs against your lips and then pulls away, setting the knife down at your side to pull his famous white tee shirt off his body, “Yeah?” you nodded, eyes darting to his bare chest and abs, “So fucking dirty,” he cooed, “Should have known you were into killers.”

You sat up on your elbows, ready to reach for the button of his jeans, but found the knife back in his hand and the tip pointing at your chest, “Lay back down, baby, no need to be so impatient.”

His free hand touched your shoulder and gently pressed you back to the floor. You kept your eyes on him as he unbuttoned his jeans, the knife still in hand as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him bare to you.

You watched as he took his length between his fingers, slowly pumping himself, him biting his lips. You were growing too impatient. Needing to feel him against you, in you, “Jake,”

“Shhh, honey,” he whispers, dropping his hands to your shorts, “I know.”

The cool metal of the knife brushed your skin as he pulled your shorts and panties down your thighs. Goosebumps formed on your skin and making Jake chuckle, enjoying this more than he’d thought, “You love the way my knife feels against you?” He tossed your clothing somewhere off into the void of the room, settling himself back between your legs, his tip prodding your entrance, “love the way it feels to glide against your skin?” He sent the knife sliding up your tummy, his hips pushing his cock in your pussy, slowly stretching you.

Jake bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He hissed out in pure pleasure of finally being buried so deep inside you, the pleasure of how fucking good you felt wrapped around him, “fuck baby,” he smiles, sliding the knife to your waist, wanting to cut open your skin and see how pretty your blood would look pooling out, “feel so good and I’m not even moving.”

You bucked your hips up against him, wanting to feel any kind of friction. Jake drops the knife to the floor, his hands pinning your arms above your head again, “I told you to stop being so impatient.”

“Jae, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I need you.”

Hearing you beg for him had him gone and all he cared about now was fucking you. To make you feel so good until you’re cumming around his dick.

Jake started out slow, burying his face in your neck, “Why aren’t you afraid, hmm? I could kill you right now.”

You leaned into him, squeezing your legs tighter on him to push him even further into you, “Because I have secrets of my own.”

Jake chuckled, bucking his hips harder and faster into yours, his lips pressing to yours. Tongue sliding down your throat and exploring your mouth. One hand leaving yours to cup your breast, his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple, “Tell me your secrets.”

“You already seem to know them all, stalker,” you hissed, throwing your head back against the floor at him pinching your nipple harder in the same movement of him pushing his dick hard against your cervix, pressing so hard to break whatever barrier that was stopping him from completely filling you whole as his hip bones knocked against yours.

“Tell me anyway,” he whispers between kisses, now sliding his mouth down to your ear, licking the shell of it, “I don’t know what you haven’t texted or physically talked about.”

“I have feelings for you,” you felt insane saying it out loud. Felt crazy that you even admitted it to him. To the person who was fucking you into pure bliss. To a murderer, “I’m obsessed with you, Jake.”

Jake bit down into your neck, both of his hands sliding underneath you to wrap at your shoulders, fucking his hips against you faster. His teeth sank into your skin tearing it slightly, a small sprinkle of blood escaping.

“Fuckkkk,” he moans, tasting the brassy liquid on his tongue, “Even your blood tastes good.”

He was fucking crazy. You knew he was. But everything about him drew you to him. Made you want him more.

And him hearing how obsessed you were with him made him even crazier about you.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed, “Letting me fuck you like this, looking so pretty for me this way.” He bucked his hips faster, adjusting his legs on the floor to spread yours even wider, giving him more access to hit your weak spots and to hit them just right.

You pulled at his hair, “Jake!” you moaned out his name, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, “I’m going…fuck…I’m going to cum.”

“Please,” he groaned, “Cum for me baby,” he sticks his tongue out, flattening it against the bite he left on your shoulder, licking up the new blood that pooled out, “fucking cum around my cock for me, honey.”

A few more thrusts and you came around him. Tingles spread throughout your body at the feeling of your release. Jake moans at feeling the mess you’ve made on his cock, him working his dick faster in your cunt to chase out the release he wants. The one he’s dreamed about having with you. His hand only did so much for him with his thoughts while back at his apartment. But now he was balls deep in your sweet pussy, having you right where he wanted you.

“Gonna cum soon,” he panted, hands squeezing your shoulders, “fuck I want to cum in this cunt so bad.”

You pulled at his hair harder, the overstimulation hitting you hard, “Jae, I can’t—“

“I know, baby,” he pressed his forehead against yours, his brows furrowing and eyes shut tightly, “Going to fill this pussy to the brim, understand? This pussy is mine.”

Jake pressed a kiss to your lips and lifted up, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest, pistoning into you faster but sloppy, “Shit,” he hissed, “Fixing to cum—fuck—I’m cumming, honey, I’m cum—“ one final thrust, and his white ropes spilled into you. He pressed his hips against you and held them there, making sure every last drop of his cum made it deep within, none to be wasted.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly lifting himself back up and dropping your legs back to the floor, “Sex with you was so much better than in my head. I only dreamt how good this pussy would feel. How good it’d feel to cum in you.”

Jake was definitely more obsessed with you than you were with him. And he honestly didn’t care how obvious it was.

“Fuck I am in love with you.” he chuckles, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs.

You tilted your head to the side, seeing the knife sitting there idle. Jake clocked where your eyes landed, but he wasn’t fast enough as you quickly grabbed it, being the one who now held the knife to his throat, the fire in your eyes back.

Jake might have just came, but his dick twitched and hardened again between the walls of your fuck hole. His crazy smile is so wide and his eyes so lustful. Seeing you so ready to end him right here and now made him crazier. Made him crave you even more.

He wouldn’t kill you now. No, no. How could he kill the love of his life? How could he slide that knife into your skin and cut you open? You were precious to him, more than what he thought before. Maybe the sex drew him in, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily.

“Awe, babe,” he cooed, taking your wrist in his hand and slowly removing the knife from your hand, “This is how this will go now,” he tossed the knife across the room and out of reach, pinning your arms back to the floor, slowly rocking his hips, “You will keep your fucking mouth shut, got it? Close this ghost face case and if anyone asks you don’t know anything about it. Give it up. All for me, okay baby?”

You nodded, not being able to say no to those brown eyes. It was toxic, whatever relationship you just found yourself in. You became that girl in books and movies who fell for the killer. It surprises you at how fast you were willing to drop everything for him. To keep his secret.

He kisses you gently and fucked you on the floor until you both came again and again and again.

What did you get yourself into?

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

#yeonzzzn asks #— 🔪 anon #jake bby #jake sim #sim jake #sim jaeyun #sim jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #ghostface au #enhypen hard hours #yeonzzzn writing #ghostface!jake

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reiderwriter · 3 months

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♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡

Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡

Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)

A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence.

“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried.

“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly.

“But I'm not a woman.”

“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again.

“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.”

“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter.

It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.

The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down.

Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again.

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter.

“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise.

“And your name is?”

“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.”

You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body.

“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?”

Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up.

With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub.

He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason.

“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest.

“Good observation, Spencer.”

“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head.

“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor.

His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again.

Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him.

A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that.

When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours.

You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election.

You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace.

“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.”

Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you.

He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together.

You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet.

So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway.

“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him.

“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin.

He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him.

“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-”

“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?”

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape.

“I-I'm not a student, and-”

“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.”

His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist.

His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex.

Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you, desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you.

Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper.

He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him.

His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley.

“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?”

“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him.

“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.”

His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin.

You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched.

You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him.

He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust.

You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin.

“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock.

“Did it hurt?”

“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.”

He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving.

He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for.

With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to.

“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him.

“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure.

“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.”

“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier.

He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you.

You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there.

You weren't.

“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?”

You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today.

There was always tomorrow.

He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed.

“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder.

He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there.

Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up.

He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.

“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.”

You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words.

The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs.

It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.

“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?”

He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely.

Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened.

“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.

“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs.

He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head.

Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch.

“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out.

“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug.

“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.”

“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer.

“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.”

You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him.

“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.”

The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal.

Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake.

“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.”

He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts.

“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?”

“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be.

“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?”

Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there.

“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?”

His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct.

You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer.

“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again.

His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning.

“You knew the entire time? Who I was?”

“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.”

You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest.

“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled.

“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.”

He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again.

“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his.

“Y/N, please let's be sensible.”

“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?”

“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans.

“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.”

His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit.

“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut.

He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly.

“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.”

He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him.

“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue.

“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?”

He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them.

“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth.

“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.”

But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry.

“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again.

This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock.

You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock.

It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so.

“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time.

Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair.

“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.”

His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

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kakujis · 1 year

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do you love me? 3;

synopsis: they wake you up at 3am and ask if you love them. 1 + 2 + 4

ft: hanma, ran, and rindou.

warnings: gn!reader, insecurities, clingy bfs, jealous!rindou, swearing, mentions of drinking, not proofread, reader is a lil mean in hanma's ): and thaat should be it!

a/n: is it me or are these getting longer?! anyways, here's part 3! the last one will be mitsuya, draken, and chifuyu! i’m running out of steam thinkin’ of scenarios uh oh. anyway, writing ran's bit was so much fun, since i feel like he's a goofy loverboy. i kind of struggled w rindou’s but i hope it still falls together nicely! ALSO WHY IS HIS SO LONG WTF and here's a special lil tag for @fuyuluvr ♡

the city is quiet as the hum of a motorcycle comes to a stop. hanma’s not sure how he ended up here, well actually he is, subconsciously driving straight to the one place that always riles him up, setting his veins on fire faster than the rush of a zipline.

he hums to himself, taking off his helmet, and nudging down his kick stand. he looks upwards, toward your bedroom window, his heart already starting to flutter in his chest. stuffing his hands into his jacket, he walks up, getting ready to scale up towards your window. he glances around, although no one’s around in this dead of night, he would rather not have anyone calling the cops on him.

they’re probably asleep, he thinks, as he peers back up, nails digging into the stone as he uses his leg to boost himself up. he hoists himself until he’s up to the sil, laughing a little to himself when he notices you left it open like you were expecting him.

he tumbles in, knocking over your lamp in the process. “oops.” he says. meanwhile, the crash has you bolting awake, screaming, no, screeching as you grab your alarm clock, holding it up, ready to throw or swing.

he throws his hands up defensively as he approaches, “it’s me!” and in your sleep deprived state you scramble back, the grip on your device tightening.

hanma barks out a laugh, before he switches on your bedside lamp. “hi baby. ♡” he chirps, seeing your shoulders slump as you settle, a particularly loud sigh escaping you as you place one hand over your chest. he kicks his shoes off as he jumps onto your bed, diving straight into your comforter, laying on his stomach.

“you scared the shit out of me!” you yell, “besides, what time is it?” you look at the device in your hand before you realize it’s off, ripped straight out the socket. frowning, you toss it onto the floor, before crossing your arms and facing him.

“you were really gonna fuck me up, huh?” he muses, honey eyes twinkling at the idea of you actually swinging on him. he would’ve dodged of course, but it would’ve given him an excuse to grab you and have you underneath him.

you sigh again, “shuji, i don’t have time for this. i’ve got a work meeting tomorrow morning.” you grab your blankets, shimmying underneath them and pulling them up, “we can hang out this weekend or something,” you yawn.

“eh?” is all you hear as you turn over, shutting your eyes in hopes of getting some sleep. maybe he’d fall asleep with you or maybe he’d leave, but the only thing that’s really on your mind is this stupid meeting. just a few more days until the weekend, has been your new mantra, if you can just tough it out, you’ll be golden.

it’s quiet for a few minutes, but the dip in your bed is still there and soon enough he’s asking, “do you love me?”

“no, shuji, of course i don’t…” you start, sarcasm tinting your voice as you roll back over, but you stop when you see his defeated expression. it’s different from the shuji you know, his solemn eyes studying you, as he nervously plays with your sheets in one hand.

hanma shuji has been so damn bored. it’s been like this ever since you got a job, constant “i can’t”s, and “maybe next time, shu.” he wants so badly to go on late night rides with you again, the sound of your laughter ripping over the roar of his motorcycle.

he wants to stay up with you until sunrise, at the top of your favorite hill, hands intertwined and shoulders brushing. he wants to snap pictures of you at the top of this hill, thinking you're prettier than any sunrise. you make him feel like he’s invincible and that everything’s okay.

shuji has been so bored, but more so than that, he’s been lonely, unsteady. he misses you so fucking much, nothing’s as fun without you, everything’s dull like the world’s covered in sepia.

“c’mere,” you say, opening your arms and he crawls forward, collapsing into you. “i love you, shuji, i do.. and i’m sorry.”

you realize now how distant you’ve been. unbeknownst to the two of you, just how stressful a new job could be, you were just trying to jumble a new set schedule but you had been snappier, neglectful, and even downright mean at times.

shuji tried his best to accomodate you, going off on night rides by himself, always saying, “it’s alright.” when you’d turn him down again. he tried to busy himself more with his friends, but his mind always wandered to what you’d be doing - did you miss him too? - checking his texts every now and then in hopes there’d be a new message.

“shuji?” you whisper when he doesn’t respond and you think he has every right to be upset with you. but instead he says, “yeah?” his face suddenly dangerously close to yours, the tip of his nose lingers by yours and your face heats up at the proximity.

“um,” you stutter and soon there’s a smirk dancing on his face, “d-did you hear me?”

“i heard you. loud and clear, ♡” he says, lips ghosting over yours, “i was just replayin’ it in my head.”

shuji always has you melting and tonight is no different, so you close your eyes and let him kiss you. deep, sweet, and full of all the things the two of you don’t know how to say. you pout when he pulls away and he grins, “so cute.”

an idea strikes you then as you gaze at the love of your life. “hey… wanna go for a ride?” besides, what's the harm in losing a little sleep?

the way he perks up has you giggling, you’re sure if he had a tail it’d be wagging a mile a minute. he’s practically beaming, as he starts to pull you up and off the bed. he stops for a second, head tilted and finger on his chin, “wait, don’t you have a meeting at in a couple hours?”

you nod, “yeah, so bring me home by 5?” you smile at him as you reach for a jacket.

“i can do that.”

ran:

for the first time in his life, ran haitani cannot fall asleep. he lays there, one arm resting above his head, the only noise being the sound of your soft snores as his mind continues to wander. he thinks about the dinner you two had earlier. it was dumb, the entire situation, your friends were clearly too drunk to be saying reasonable things. ran knew this, he’s been the same way countless times before.

but when she hiccuped, arm slung around you, “maann, can’t believe you ended up with ran! you used to only talk about rindou in high school ehe.” ran felt his stomach drop.

you froze at that, quickly glancing at ran whose face was otherwise unreadable. she continued, incessantly giggling, “seriously seriously! everyday was ‘man rindou looked sooo cu’-“

“thats enough!” you had said, placing a palm over her mouth to muffle her. “lets get you home, okay?” desperately glancing at the rest of your friends, who took the hint and helped her out of there.

ran remembered how after everyone left, you had tried to talk to him, “listen..” your hand reaching towards his.

but for some reason, he had stopped you. “it’s fine, people say dumb shit when they’re drunk,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “don’t worry about it.”

and maybe the reason was that he was scared, scared to hear you admit that yeah, you did like his brother. and when that didn’t work out, you settled on him.

he shakes his head, getting up from the bed and padding over to the bathroom. turning the faucet, he douses cold water on his face. don’t be stupid, ran.

when he walks out, he stops when he sees you sitting up, sleepily rubbing your eyes. “ran?” you mumble, “are you okay?”

he settles back into an easy grin, walking over and climbing back in. “yeah, i’m alright.”

“liar.”

he blinks. “what’d you just say?”

“i said, you’re a liar.” you huff, placing your hands on his cheeks, swiveling his head towards yours. “you’re upset.”

“and why do you think that?” he says, but there’s a red tint dusting on his cheeks, and his eyes flicker from you to various objects around the room.

“first of all, you’re awake,” you emphasize, “when is ran ‘if i don't get enough sleep i’ll kill you and your family’ haitani awake at 3am? hm?” you dart your head every time he tries to look away trying to stay in his vision.

he sighs, “okay, you got me.” he stills, looking at you with a crease in his brow. “do you love me? and.. was what your friend said right? that you used to like my brother?”

you soften at his question, “of course i do. i love you and only you. let me explain?”

he nods and you drop your hands, opting to intertwine them with his. sighing, you begin, “okay so, in high school there was this… friend- okay no i hated that bitch-“

you give ran a look as he whistles, caught off guard by your vitriol, as he motions you to continue on with a little grin, “don’t mind me.”

“there was this acquaintance,” you continue and ran nods, “and every single guy i was into she would try to take them from me, so i pretended to like rindou because.. i was scared.. she would actually get together with you.”

its your turn to burn with embarrassment, looking down at your interlocked hands as you reveal the secret you kept for so long. you glance up at ran and groan out a “what?!” when you notice his shit-eating grin.

“i’m really a catch, eh?” he teases and you scrunch your nose. “don’t make that face,” he points, “you’re the one who tried to gatekeep me.”

“ugh fine,” you pout, your face on fire, “this is so embarrassing… ah!” ran pulls you down, hugging you tightly. “ran?”

“man, i feel like a million bucks! who would’ve thought the person i’d been chasin’ all throughout highschool felt the same way. i should’ve asked you out sooner.” he pinches your cheek, cooing, “my baby.”

you can’t even focus on the fact that he casually mentioned the two of you were mutual crushing for so long. if you could die from embarrassment you would. on the flipside, if ran could die from love, he would. he’s never admitted it before, but he’s always felt a little insecure, so he hides it behind a mask that only you get to uncover.

“did i ever meet her?” he asks, face to face with you. he can’t stop smiling, instead continuing to poke your cheek as you pout.

“hmm, maybe. i dunno, i tried to avoid her a lot of the time.” you answer, “why?”

“cause if i did, you wouldn’t even have to worry about it.” he says, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “i’ve only had eyes for you after all.”

was he always this cheesy? seriously, you might die. “i’m gonna die,” you profess, your face and body on fire, moving your hands up to hide your expression behind them. “if you continue, i’ll seriously die.”

“dying in my arms is super romantic though.” he muses, “i bet it’d be a dream come true for you.”

“shut up!” you groan, burying your face into the pillow.

“babe, seriously, it’s a dream of mine. romeo and juliet, who?”

“ran haitani, shut up!”

rindou:

rindou haitani was seething. on the outside, he had it all. a club that he owned with his brother, able to play his music to an excited crowd, and to top it all off, a loving partner who did their best to support him. but on the inside, he was someone who hid from his emotions, snuffing them out before they had their chance to reach the surface and maybe that’s why, in rare moments, when he couldn’t snuff them out he waited until you fell asleep to think about them.

maybe it was his fault for inviting you out, but it’s always been a dream of his to watch you dance to his music. at first you refused, something about how crowds aren’t really your thing. but he persisted, noting how you always dance for him when he plays his music so why not do it at his club?

“besides, you always get along with everyone you meet, just try it.” he insisted, beaming when you said “okay, just this once.”

he wasn’t usually jealous, something he prided himself on, that you could hang out with whoever you wanted whenever you wanted and he’d have no issue. but tonight things were different. you looked amazing under the neon, pulsing lights, feeling the beat down to your bones as you swayed and moved on the dance floor.

ran was supposed to stay close to you, but the two of you got separated by the mass of bodies. from his view up top though, rindou could see you clearly, and when someone came up to you to dance, he was sure you would deny them. but perhaps it was the slight buzz of alcohol running through your veins or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you that caused you to say yes.

you didn’t grind on them, thankfully, but still, the way you laughed and cheered, eyes fully on them was like a kick to rindou’s gut. at one point, they leaned in to say something to you and rindou almost stopped his set, wanting to take you home immediately. but instead, he grit his teeth and kept playing.

he didn’t have the heart to tell you anything on the way home either, the way you excitedly bounced up and down detailing to him about how much fun you had and how you’d love to go again. he shut those emotions down again, instead laying a hand over yours, smiling and saying, “i’m glad you had fun, love.”

but now as he lay there in your shared bed, one arm around you as you slept on his chest, he was steaming. he has a continuous fight with himself in his head over it, how he isn’t the type to dance anyway, so it’s fine if you have fun dancing with someone else. but also, have you ever had that much fun with him before? like you did tonight with some stranger? he’s so pissed off he can’t remember, especially when he thinks about how close they were to his baby.

when rindou is lost in his head, he never notices the things he does outwardly to keep himself calm. like the tapping on your arm or the shake of his leg, but you do, rousing out of sleep, peeking one eye up at him.

“rinnie?” you croak, voice hoarse from the amount of shouting and laughing you did tonight. “you okay?”

he looks down at you, unable to control the frustration clearly etched across his face. “i’m fine. go back to sleep.”

“no.” you say, even in your half-asleep state you can tell that something’s up, “what’s wrong.”

“nothing.” he huffs, trying his best to not let his emotions get the best of him. but if there’s one thing rindou hates, it’s talking about his feelings.

you pause, trying to think your words over carefully. “did i do something wrong?” he doesn’t respond, and you mull it over again, when an answer comes to you. “oh… i won’t go to the club anymore, if that’s what you want, i bet i looked pretty lame dancing out there-“

“no!” he interrupts, “no… you looked amazing…besides, i love watching you dance.”

“then what is it, rindou? i can’t read your mind, y’know?” you remind him and his face softens.

“i know…” he replies, and you wait for him to continue. that’s something that he’s grateful for, that when he does talk, you never rush him, letting him go at his own pace. “it’s just… did you have to dance with that guy tonight?” he mumbles, voice trailing off so that it’s barely audible.

“hm? i didn’t hear you, did i have to..?” you ask, tilting your head.

“did you have to dance with that stupid dude tonight?!” he nearly yells, rushing out his words and you blink, a little taken aback.

“oh…” you realize, he’s jealous. you realize now that from where he was looking it probably did look bad, his partner, dancing and laughing it up with a stranger. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know that bothered you so much…”

for some reason, that sets rindou off and he scoffs, pissed off once again. of course he’d be annoyed, of course he’d be jealous. you’re his partner. “do you love me?”

his question comes out more like an accusation and you hate it because it stings. in turn you say, “i do. do you trust me?”

he wants to bite back, but when he looks at you, he can’t. you look so hurt, he sighs, rubbing his temple with his free hand, “… sorry. i do trust you. i’m bad at this.”

“i know,” you say and he glances at you, surprised, which makes you smile. “you’re awful at telling me how you feel, so you act all cool and tough instead.”

“aren’t you mad at me?” he asks, your sudden smile catching him off guard.

“hmm… not really mad, just a little hurt is all.” you say, because even though he was the one who told you that you get along with everyone you meet, you know rindou inside and out, culminating from the many years the two of you have shared together.

rindou doesn’t want to seem controlling, but because of that he neglects to establish his boundaries, too focused on how comfortable you feel. it’s his own weird way of control, if he doesn’t push you, let’s you do your thing, then you’ll stay. you won’t leave him like he’s scared you’ll do if he ever says no.

he apologizes again, his frustration turning to shame. you're so patient, even when he snaps at you or can't find the words. but you shake your head, “thanks for telling me. let me know what bothers you, please?”

“i’ll try,” he mumbles, glancing away, and you know that means that next time he probably won’t. he’ll most likely bury those feelings deep inside until you catch wind, but it’s the fact that he’ll at least try that makes you happy. it’s okay, you’ll always be there when he needs it.

you settle back into your original position, closing your eyes and within a few minutes, you’re dozing off asleep.

tonight really did a number on you, he thinks, while playing with your hair, maybe i should be more honest with you… i love you.

but there's a few things that rindou doesn’t realize. like how he’s talking out loud, or that you’re still just barely awake, his “i love you,” warming you up like the morning sun. as much as you wanna mention it when you wake up, you also don’t wanna embarrass him. for now, you’ll keep this a secret.♡

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuji x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #hanma shuji #ran haitani #rindou haitani #pibby writing #RANS WAS MY FAVORITE JSYK !!!!

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physalian · 30 days

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What No One Tells you about Writing #3

Opening this up to writing as a whole, because it turns out I have a lot more to say!

Part 1

Part 2

1. You don’t fall in love with your characters immediately

But when you do, it’s a hit of serotonin like no other. I’d been writing a tight cast of characters for my sci-fi series since 2016 and switched over in a bout of writer’s block this year to my new fantasy book. I made it about ⅓ through writing the book going through the motions, unable to visualize what these new characters look like, sound like, or would behave like without a ‘camera’ on them.

Then, all of a sudden, I opened my document to keep on chugging with the first draft, and it clicked. They were no longer faceless elements of my plot, they were my characters and I was excited to see what they could accomplish, rooting for them to succeed. Sometimes, it takes a while, but it does come.

2. Sometimes a smaller edit is better than a massive rewrite

Unless you’re changing the trajectory of your entire plot, or a character’s arc really is unrecoverable, sometimes even a single line of dialogue, a single paragraph of introspection, or a quick exchange between two characters can change everything. If something isn’t working, or your beta readers consistently aren’t jiving with a character you yourself love, try taking a step back, looking at who they are as a person, and boil down what your feedback is telling you and it might demand a simpler fix than you expect.

Tiny details inserted at the right moment can move mountains. Fan theories stand on the backs of these minutiae. One sentence can turn a platonic relationship romantic. One sentence can unravel a fair and just argument. One sentence can fill or open a massive plot hole.

3. Outline? What outline?

Not every book demands weeks upon weeks of prep and worldbuilding. I would argue that jumping right in with only a vague direction in mind gives you a massive advantage: You can’t infodump research you haven’t done. Exposition is forced to come as the plot demands it, because you haven’t designed it yet.

Not every story is simple and straightforward, but even penning the first draft with your vague plan, *then* going back and adding in deeper worldbuilding elements, more thematic details, richer character development, can get you over the writer’s block hurdle and make it far less intimidating to just shut up and write the book.

4. It’s okay to let your characters take the wheel

I’ve seen writing advice that chastises authors who let their characters run wild, off the plan the story has for them. Yeah, doing this can harm your pacing and muddy a strong and consistent arc, but refusing to leave the box of your outline greatly limits your creativity. I do this particularly when writing romantic relationships (and end up like Captain Crunch going Oops! All Gays!).

Did I plan for these two to get together? No, it just happened organically as I wrote them talking, getting closer, getting to know each other better in the circumstances they find themselves in. Was this character meant to be gay? Well, he wasn’t meant to be straight, but you know what, he’d work really well with this other boy over here. None of that would have happened if I was bound and determined to follow my original plan, because my original plan didn’t account for how the story that I want to tell evolves. You aren’t clairvoyant—it’s okay if it didn’t end up where you thought it would.

5. Fight. Scenes. Suck.

Which is crazy because I love fantasy and sci-fi, the actiony-est genres. Some authors love battle scenes and fistfights. It comes naturally to them and I will forever be jealous. I hate fight scenes. I hate blocking and choreographing them. I hate how it doesn’t read like I’m watching a movie. I hate how it could take me hours to write a scene I can read in 5 minutes. I hate that there’s no way around it except to just not write them, or put in the elbow grease and practice.

Whatever your writing kryptonite is, don’t be too hard on yourself. It won’t ever replicate the movie in your head, but our audience isn’t privy to that movie and will be none the wiser of how this didn’t fit your expectations, because it’s probably awesome on its own. It could be a fight scene, sex scene, epic battle, cavalry charge, courtroom argument, car chase—whatever. Be patient, and kind to yourself and it will all come together.

6. Write the scenes you want to write first

And then be prepared to never use them. It can be mighty difficult working backwards from a climax and figuring out how to write the story around it, but if you’re sitting at your laptop staring at your cursor and watching it blink, stuck on a tedious moment that’s necessary but frustrating, go write something exciting. Even if that amazing scene ends up no longer working in the book your story becomes, you still get practice by writing it. Particularly if you hate beginnings or the pressure of a perfect first page is too high, you’re allowed to write any other moment in the book first.

And with that, be prepared to kill your darlings. Not your characters, I mean that one badass line of dialogue living rent free in your head. That epic monologue. That whump scenario for your favorite character. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out anymore, but even if it ends up in the trash, you can always salvage something from it, even if that’s only the knowledge of what not to do in the future.

7. “This is clearly an author insert.” … Yes. It is. Point?

No one likes Mary Sues, because a character who doesn’t struggle or learn to get everything they want in life is uncompelling. The most flagrant author inserts I see aren’t Mary Sues, they’re nerdy, awkward, boring white guys whose world changes to fit their perspective, instead of the other way around—they don’t have anything to say. I’m not the intended audience to relate to these characters and I accept that, but I don’t empathize with the so-called “strong female character” who also doesn’t have flaws or an arc either.

A good author insert? When the author gives their characters pieces of themselves. When the “author insert” struggles and learns and grows and it’s a therapeutic experience just writing these characters thrown into such horrible situations. They feel human when they’re given pieces of a human’s soul. They have real human flaws and idiosyncrasies. I don’t care if the author wrote themselves as the protagonist. I care that this protagonist is entertaining. So if you want to make yourself the hero of your book, go for it! But make sure you look in the mirror and write in your flaws, as much as your strengths.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fantasy #scifi

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sherlockscumslut · 4 months

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☆Genshin men and how they behave under the mistletoe ☆

Ft. Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Childe, Itto, Thoma, Ayato, Alhaitham, Cyno, Neuvillette and Wriothesley.

18+ only. Contains smut, sexual innuendos, fluff & crack. Kisses duh, sweet talk, praise, fingering, oral(f&m.receiving), facial, creampies, bad jokes, possible grammar mistakes.

A/n: Have you been naughty or nice this year? 😏 As for me, I guess it's hard to tell bc Wriothesley came home. Did he come to punish me for breaking the law or perhaps, to teach me some...wrestling techniques? 🤭

My AO3

Follow my backup @itsdebby

°☆•☆°•☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•☆•

Finds the opportunity to give you a passionate kiss and whisper something naughty in your ear

The mistletoe hangs on your bedroom's door and every once in a while, even when you're on the phone with friends and family, he sneaks out of nowhere and hugs you from behind. His puts his strong arms around your waist and his head nest on your shoulder. "Oops! I think you walked under the mistletoe again, sweetheart." He says in the sweetest tone and gives you soft neck kisses that never fail to make you melt. "I can't wait until I'm all over you tonight~" He murmurs.

KAEYA, Ayato, Childe, Wriothesley

Tells you something random about his current hyperfixation and turns it into a never ending session of him talking about it.

"Nice to see you here, again. I know we live in the same house but you just happened to walk under the mistletoe...What do you mean it's the 20th time today? Listen, I found out MORE information about [x] and I just wanna share it with you...Don't worry, dinner's one me!"

CYNO, Neuvillette, ITTO, Zhongli

Puts some music on and invites you to dance.

"Sweetheart, can I have this dance?" He offers his hand and you cling on him. He spins you around and kisses you softly on the lips. "You are the best gift I could ever ask for" He says smiling. His pretty eyes stare into your soul as he holds your hand and leans for another kiss.

KAEYA, Diluc, Thoma, Zhongli, Neuvillette

Is up for a quicky right here, right now.

You could be baking some cookies for the holidays but he doesn't care that you're busy. Since you walked under the mistletoe to get to the kitchen, he walks in there too and gives you a naughty grin. "You know...I also walked under the mistletoe on my way here...what do I mean? Well, how about I show you instead?" He lifts you up at the counter and starts teasing your clit with his hard cock. Soft moans escape his mouth and fights the urge to come right away. No, he won't let himself come so quickly. Not until he feels your tight pussy sucking him in and hear you beg him to fill you up. He never leaves you empty handed and after a few rough thrusts, he squeezes your hips as he comes inside. He's proud of lasting longer than he expected and had you to beg for his seed.

Childe, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Kaeya

Praises you while you're gagging on his cock.

"Fuck, this is so good...keep going..." He whispers as you worship his cock with your mouth, licking every inch of him. You like to make him think that he's in control but little does he know about your secret technique that can make him burst at any moment. "You're always so good for me" He moans and holds a mistletoe over your head. "Hehe, this adds a little fun, doesn't it?" He starts twitching inside your throat and you pull his cock out of your mouth and tease his tip with your thumb. He groans as he comes on your face and his upper body goes limp."I could do this everyday" He murmurs.

ITTO, Kaeya, Childe, Cyno

Eats your pussy while you're reading a book or watching a Christmas movie in your bedroom.

Turns out it wasn't a bad idea to hang a mistletoe over the headboard. It was his idea but oh well, it benefits you too. You can barely concentrate on your book or movie. How could you when he's licking your clit back and forth and keeps adding one more finger inside you? He drinks your juices like water and his lips vibrate on your flesh as another moan escapes his mouth. Your hole clench on his fingers as you cream all over them. Your toes curl as a wave of satisfaction washes over your body. He looks at you with pure lust, panting while watching you come back to your senses.

Ayato, Wriothesley, Diluc, Cyno, Neuvillette

He still believes in Santa and stays up late to meet him so they can have a quick round of Genius Invocation TCG or beetle fight💀

Thoma, Itto, Cyno.

Cyno joke moment: You wanna know how we know Santa is a man? He shows up late, eats your cookie, empties his sack, comes only once, calls you a ho and leaves while you're sleeping.

《THE END》

! DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁) || eddie munson x preppy!reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 || when your best friend (who just so happens to also be your ex) steve helps you get together with his new friend eddie, things go a little slower than you expected.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 || almost 12k lol oops

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 || SMUT (18+ only, unprotected sex and oral f receiving), fluff, some pining, very slight angst, somewhat inexperienced eddie, ex-bf!steve but also bff!steve,🍂🍁 fall vibes 🍁🍂, alcohol consumption/mild drunkenness, 'princess' petname

September 1986

“Dude, if you like her, you should just go for it,” Steve insisted.

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek for a second, staring out at the empty football field before turning to Steve on the bleachers dramatically. “And you’re sure it’s okay? I mean, with you two having gone out—”

“Of course!” Steve shrugged. “She and I have been friends a lot longer than we dated. I mean, that was, what, seven or eight months in sophomore year? It’s been years since then.”

“But you’re still so close,” Eddie noticed.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “and actually— it’s perfect! I can help you ask her out!”

“Wait, you mean like, I have a friend who likes you or something?” Eddie wondered, seeming a little suspicious as he turned his head away slightly.

“No, a little smoother than that,” Steve assured, “like a wingman! Like Top Gun!”

Eddie sighed; he almost wished Steve had never seen that movie, now he wouldn’t shut up about it.

“Actually, she already kinda told me she’s into you,” he grinned, and Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we were hanging out a few weeks ago and we played that game Fuck Marry Kill?” Steve began, and Eddie nodded. “It was you, John Stamos and Val Kilmer— she said she’d fuck you.”

Eddie gave a sideways frown.

"Dude. Seriously." Steve glared at Eddie's unenthusiastic reaction. "In that line up I was sure she'd kill you. But poor Stamos got the chop instead."

Eddie shrugged.

"Did you miss the part of the story where she said she wants to fuck you?"

But Eddie knew that wasn't what that actually meant. “I guess that’s good, but honestly, I was kind of going for ‘marry’," he admitted.

Steve laughed joyfully as he shoved Eddie’s shoulder. “Didn’t know you were such a romantic!”

“I-I mean, I’ve never had a real girlfriend before,” Eddie replied, “so I hope she wants more than to just, like, fool around. Not that I would say no to that!”

“Of course,” Steve nodded, “totally get you— I’m the same way, you know, tired of all the one-night stands.”

Yeah, except you have an endless supply and I’ve had four, Eddie thought.

“If you want, I could talk to her for you,” Steve suggested, “and get the scoop— see if she’d be interested. That way you know before you go through all the trouble of actually asking her.”

“Okay— but keep it subtle! I don’t want her to know I’ve got a crush unless it’s reciprocated.”

Steve nodded confidently. “You got it, Munson. I can be stealthy. Like a ninja.”

You were sitting on the floor throwing Sour Patch Kids, watching Steve open his mouth wide and lean to try to catch them. He got five in a row, before you threw one too much to the side and he had to dive so far that he fell on his side onto the carpet; you both laughed with your mouths full, and he kicked you by sliding his foot out over the carpet. You groaned and kicked him back, until you two were having a shoe war on the rug: his sneakers versus your loafers.

After the fight and giggles died down, a quick silence fell before it was broken. “So,” Steve said suddenly, “it’s time for me to ask my favorite question…”

“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes. “Time for the third degree.”

“Seeing anybody lately?” he grinned.

“I mean… I dunno,” you shrugged. “A few dates here and there, but nobody interesting.”

“Interesting?” he pressed. “You want an interesting guy to go out with, then?”

“What’s with all the sudden interest, Harrington?” you returned with a smirk; you only called him that when you were teasing him.

“I’m always asking about your dates,” he corrected.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re nosy,” you scoffed.

“I just thought maybe we could figure out who you should be going out with."

“Maybe I should be single for a while,” you offered instead— not because you actually thought so, but because you wanted to figure out why he was so insistent on getting you a date.

“No, see, ‘cause this is the perfect time for a new squeeze,” he assured, “you know— fall’s just started, it’s getting chilly out, leaves are turning…”

You sighed dreamily, glancing out his bedroom window at the orange and brown leaves, rustling with the breeze that you just knew was blowing in a cold front from out East.

“Don’t you just wanna cuddle up with somebody this time of year?” Steve hummed, tensing up his shoulders under his soft Lacoste sweater.

“Yeah, alright,” you agreed, “I was thinking I should get a new boyfriend for the fall. I’m guessing based on your general shiftiness that you have someone in mind?”

Steve coughed and looked away. “I mean— I just had a couple ideas.”

“Such as…?”

He thought for a second, biting his lip. “Uh, there’s Joey Shelley?”

You frowned. “He’s cute, I guess, but he’s sorta… dull?”

“Okay, then— Keith Bowen’s fun,” Steve noticed.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed, “but didn’t you go out with his sister for a while?”

“So?” he shrugged.

“Isn’t that, like, incest?” you shuddered.

Steve wrinkled his eyebrows together. “Um… no?”

“Whatever, it’s weird,” you decided. “And I dunno… he’s not really my type.”

“He’s exactly your type!” Steve scoffed. “If not him then that Ryan guy you were checking out at the theater last week.”

“I wasn’t checking him out, I was trying to figure out where he got his jeans,” you explained.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you hummed, hoping to avoid explaining further since the real answer was that you were already planning Steve’s Christmas present.

“You don’t like any of my suggestions,” he noticed.

“It’s not that! I just— all those guys are just like the guys I always go out with,” you clarified with a sigh.

“What kind of guys do you always go out with?” Steve wondered.

“You know— preppy guys! Guys like— well, guys like you, actually,” you snorted. “I mean, you old money boys are fun for a while, but…”

“But you want something new,” he suggested, surprisingly unoffended by your diss on his fellow preps (though it couldn’t be that hard of a critique coming from a preppy girl yourself), “I get it. Wanna mix it up.”

You shrugged. “I mean, maybe I should.”

“Did you talk to her?” Eddie asked excitedly as he leaned in closer to Steve, who leaned back— Eddie wasn’t so good with the ‘personal space’ thing sometimes.

“Yeah,” Steve promised.

“Will she go out with me?”

“Woah, slow down,” Steve frowned, “I thought you wanted subtle— was I supposed to ask her out for you?”

“No,” Eddie sighed, “that would’ve made it easier but— no, it’s tacky. But did she say if she would go out with me? If I asked?”

“You didn’t come up,” Steve explained, reacting to Eddie’s disappointed expression by adding: “by name! But I think she’d be into it if you asked her.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, half-frowning. “You think? So, what, she might turn me down and then I look like an idiot?”

“Munson, to be honest,” Steve sighed, “I didn’t think looking like an idiot bothered you that much.”

Eddie gave Steve a look; Steve returned by motioning his head towards Eddie’s Hellfire shirt. Eddie, staring down at his outfit, wore an offended grimace when he met Steve’s gaze again. “Hey!” he yelped sharply. “I made this myself!”

“Exactly,” Steve nodded.

“Whatever,” Eddie scoffed, crossing his arms defensively, “this is different than clothes, anyway. I don’t want her to think that all I want is a date— like, I’m cool just being friends, too. But there’s that thing where, if you ask a girl out, you can’t really be friends after that.”

“Uh, I’m her friend,” Steve reminded Eddie, “and I asked her out.”

“In tenth grade!” Eddie added. “You’re smoother than me, anyways, I don’t even know what to say—”

“Just be honest, man,” Steve instructed, “just… tell her you think she’s pretty and you wanna go to a movie or something.” Steve shrugged, as if that required no effort at all, but Eddie was terrified just imagining saying that to you.

“When?” Eddie asked— his first of many issues with that idea. “I don’t have the excuse of seeing her at school anymore, and when school’s over she’s always hanging out with you.”

Steve smiled excitedly, finally finding a part of this plan he knew he could orchestrate. “We’ll find a way,” he promised cryptically.

It was Steve’s idea to go to the record store— he said he wanted the new(ish) Human League album and frankly, you never needed too much of a reason to kill time there. It wasn’t just the music or the respite from the increasing chill outside on your bare legs (maybe the plaid skirt you chose to wear today was a bit out of season, but it was cute), it was the atmosphere itself, it was the smell: old books, new records, paper album sleeves, and whatever rosemary-and-spice candle the owner was burning somewhere.

You flipped through the stacks and scoffed at the cover of The Queen Is Dead. “You should get your own copy of this instead of continuing to indefinitely borrow mine,” you suggested to Steve flatly.

“Is the new Talking Heads album any good?” he asked as he flipped the record around and presented True Stories to you, ignoring what you’d said entirely. Steve Harrington had some of the most impressive selective hearing you’d ever encountered.

Your search wandered out of rock and indie towards pop and synth, where Steve went on a rant you’d heard before about Cyndi Lauper and you pondered trying out Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. Someone coming up to you got your attention, and you heard Steve greet him before you actually recognized him: “Munson, funny seeing you here,” he nodded.

Turning and looking up at him, you found a friendly smile under a nose tinted red from the cold wind outside— even if the leather-jacket-and-denim-vest fusion looked like it would keep him pretty warm out there. He had the latest Alice Cooper album tucked under his arm, and the flamboyant cover caught your attention for a moment before you looked at his face again.

“Oh! Hey Eddie,” you greeted joyfully. “Didn’t expect to find you in the pop section…”

You shot Steve a look as he suddenly stepped backwards and walked further away— leaving you and Eddie essentially by yourselves. Eddie was more Steve’s friend than your own, wouldn’t he want to talk with you? But you couldn’t pay that much attention when you were trying to listen to Eddie’s reply: “Oh, I listen to all kinds of stuff, actually.”

“Well, your merch isn’t so diverse,” you noticed, pointing at his shirt; he looked down at it, like he forgot what he was wearing, and smiled.

“Yeah, this is one of my favorites,” he admitted. “The band and the shirt. My uncle got me this one for my birthday last year, actually.”

“Well, it’s cool,” you decided.

“Oh, thanks,” he hummed. “I-I like your necklace. Definitely classier than a worn-out old shirt.”

“Thank you, I—” you began, though you almost lost your breath when he reached up and touched the jewelry gently. “I… got it on a trip, with my parents? To Australia…”

You felt that shivery butterfly feeling as he toyed with the pearls around your neck. Was he flirting? You hoped so. Truth be told, you never really noticed Eddie when you went to school together; well, actually, a guy like Eddie was sort of impossible not to notice, but really you didn’t do anything past noticing him. Metalhead, D&D geek, flunker— you didn’t know much beyond that, though you didn’t take issue with him like most of the other kids in your social group did. A jock flipped his lunch tray on purpose once and you helped him clean it up, but that was the extent of your interaction.

You didn’t really notice that he was cute until Steve re-introduced you a few months back. It started with thinking that he was funny— in much more of a laughing with than a laughing at way for a guy like him— and then being flattered by his chivalry. It was little things, like opening doors and pulling out chairs, but you admired it. Despite a distinctly modern look, Eddie himself was sort of a classic guy, and that charming smile was timeless.

“Australia? That’s so cool,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never even been south of Kansas.”

“It's beautiful," you agreed. “We swam in the Great Barrier Reef.”

“I, uh, watched something on the Discovery channel about that one time,” he mumbled nervously, obviously aware of how much less interesting of a story that was. “I think they said, like, ten thousand different species live there…”

“That sounds about right,” you smiled, “but I didn’t see them all, obviously.”

The conversation stalled and Eddie rocked nervously on his heels; you examined him for a moment, expecting him to break the silence any second, but he never did.

“Since when are you so shy?” you tilted your head. “You’re normally so… boisterous.”

“Well, honestly?” he breathed. “I get really shy when I, uh, when I’m trying to ask somebody out.”

It still took you a second to get what he meant— you were actually about to ask him who he was going to ask out! Then it clicked, and you smiled. “Oh,” you blinked quickly, “you mean me, right? That’s sweet. What did you have in mind?”

“I-I just figured I’d ask if you wanted to go out sometime,” he decided, “with me.”

You giggled. “I meant for the date.”

“O-oh, yeah,” he sighed, blushing slightly; you liked this version of Eddie, even if you’d been crushing on the one that was so loud and crazy. “There’s a drive-in not too far from here, and I’ve got the van… do you like scary movies?”

“No,” you admitted, stepping up closer to drag your finger over his chest, tracing the letters of his Metallica t-shirt, “but maybe when the scary parts come on, you could protect me?”

You batted your eyelashes up at him, watching his eyes dart all over your face wildly. “Y-yeah, of course,” he promised quickly. “Not to brag or anything, but I’ve watched a lot of scary movies and I’ve survived them all. So you’re safe with me.”

“Good,” you hummed, stepping back and holding onto the strap of your bag that crossed over your chest. “So you can pick me up at seven, then?”

His shock turned quickly into glee. “Yeah! I’ll see you then.”

“S-sorry, I cleaned up as best I could,” Eddie promised nervously as you hopped into the van’s passenger seat.

“Oh, it’s fine!” you dismissed quickly. “Steve’s car is always a mess— not, like, dirty, but messy for sure. Random clothes everywhere.”

“Is Harrington stripping in his car that often?” Eddie wondered, curling his lips slightly.

You shrugged. “Guess so.”

Shuddering, Eddie started the van and began the familiar route to the drive-in. The sun was already setting, and it would be dark enough for the movie soon.

It was a short, but pleasant, ride; you took the time to catch up with Eddie and get to know him a little better, since you didn’t know a lot about him past the obvious.

“I’ve got everything we’ll need tonight,” he promised, “blankets, pillows— you know, to make the back all cozy— candy, snacks— do you like Sour Patch Kids?”

“Only the yellow ones,” you admitted, and he looked at you like you were crazy— but also, like he was into it. “I know!” you yelped. “Steve says it’s proof I’m a monster.”

“Monster? No, you’re perfect,” he said, so casually, like it didn’t make your heart skip, “and those are the only ones I won’t eat, so… guess we’re a perfect match, too.”

Biting your lip, you looked back at the road ahead— Eddie had just flipped on the headlights— and felt the warm, giddy flush crawling up your face. He was a flirt, that’s for sure, even when he had this nervous energy radiating off of him.

After finding the best available spot to park for the movie, Eddie asked you to wait in the passenger while he set up the back; for a few minutes as he unfolded blankets and arranged everything, you toyed with the pearls around your neck (after he complimented them, you kept them on despite changing most of the rest of your outfit, and he noticed, saying they made you look regal, ‘like a princess or something’) and waited.

“Ta-da!” he announced with an excited flourish of his arms and a wide grin when you were finally allowed to look: the back seats had been folded down, the back hatch doors were swung open, and the whole floor was padded with a pallet of blankets and pillows. And, right in the middle, a nice big stash of movie candy classics; including, of course, Sour Patch Kids. “Comfy, right?”

“Only one way to find out,” you smiled as you climbed in. He even held his hand out for you to lift yourself up with to get in the back, even though you definitely didn’t need it.

Once you were comfortable, he laid back on the blanket with you, letting you lean in close even though the movie hadn’t started yet— you could blame it on the chill in the air, but he’d see right through that.

“You really know how to show a girl a good time, huh?” you noticed as you relaxed on the soft padding beneath you.

“I-I try,” he stammered. “It’s been a while since I’ve— m’kinda out of practice, to be honest…”

“Me too,” you admitted.

“What?” he laughed. “Getting taken out doesn’t take any practice! All you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

You batted your eyelashes at him; “How am I doing so far?”

He grinned as he tossed a blue Sour Patch Kid into his mouth. “You’re a natural, princess.”

When the movie finally did start, you were already getting that lovely jittery feeling from being so close to him, wondering if he would touch you: hoping he would, actually. Was he the kind of guy who waited until the end to kiss you? Or was he just waiting until everyone else in the surrounding cars was focused enough on the movie above for none of them to look back and see you making out?

But, you actually watched the movie for about the first act, occasionally whispering something to each other or laughing at a campy moment— and, of course, when you jumped at a scare and leaned in to him, he carefully wrapped an arm around you. Even with a relatively conservative touch, he nervously hesitated for a moment, but you found it endearing.

“Thanks for taking me out,” you whispered to him about halfway through the movie, making him look down at you.

“Y-yeah,” he agreed, looking like he was struggling a bit to focus on conversation with your face so close. “Thanks for, um, agreeing to go out with me. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

You grinned, biting your lip. “Actually, I was hoping you’d ask me soon.”

“Really?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think I was your type.”

“You’re not,” you admitted, “that’s the fun part. Something different.”

“This is different for me, too,” he agreed.

“I’m not like the girls you usually take out?” you assumed.

“In the sense that you exist? Yes,” he nodded, making you laugh almost a bit too loud. “Yes, very different.”

“C’mon, you can’t be that hopeless,” you rolled your eyes.

“This whole town thinks I’m a freak, remember?” he smirked. “Even the women— uh, especially the women.”

“Guess I don’t mind it,” you shrugged. “Maybe I’m a freak, too… once you get to know me.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The tension of the moment lingered for a few moments of silence, neither you nor Eddie looking back at the big screen above you, keeping your eyes trained on each other. For a comment as sexually-charged as what you’d said, you didn’t expect him to follow it up with something so… wholesome. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Way too tender, way too sweet for how flirty and heated the conversation that led up to it had become. But it still made your stomach flip, and you nodded, and Eddie carefully cradled your jaw in his hand as he closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours.

It was chaste and patient, at first— gentle movements in time with each other, finding the rhythm, getting familiar with the faint taste of cigarettes under the sweetness of the sour candy you’d shared.

The moment seemed like it could go on forever, like the kiss never needed to end and never needed to progress; the movie played on in the background, but you hardly paid attention, focused instead on the sounds of his breathing picking up, of the blankets shifting beneath you when he moved, of the slightest sigh that fell against your face when you ran a hand up his chest over his shirt.

You opened your mouth wider, tilting your head back, not just allowing but inviting him to kiss you deeper— and he accepted gladly, one hand cradling the back of your head delicately.

His other hand ran down your back, settling at your waist; for a second you thought he might drift even lower and grab your butt. If he did, it would be sort of tacky, but you also wouldn’t mind that much for some reason.

He brushed his fingers over your jaw and tilted his face further, suddenly gaining a little speed and intensity as he tasted you, and you had to resist the urge to moan around his tongue carefully exploring your mouth. Fuck. Heat was already gathering between your legs from a kiss like this. Maybe it was due in part to how long it had been since you’d been taken out properly, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to control yourself if he wanted more.

You gasped softly when his hand slid up your leg. He’s gonna do it— he’s gonna reach up under my skirt and touch me. And I’m gonna let him.

It was impulsive and a little irresponsible, the way you were about to let Eddie Munson finger you right here in the drive-in, but it only turned you on more to think about how naughty it was. You actually wanted him to, you were so needy—

But he stopped moving his hand when he reached your upper thigh. Instead of moving in to carefully toy with the edge of your panties and eventually slip inside, he just started rubbing your thigh with his thumb, occasionally squeezing it as he kissed you.

He broke away from your lips, making you worry it was over, but then he dipped under your face and kissed under your ear. “Oh,” you gasped softly, and you felt him smile— cocky bastard.

Your hips rocked forward a bit, but he didn’t seem to notice: you barely noticed it, since it wasn’t exactly voluntary. Your fingers clutched his shirt, tightening even more when he bit your earlobe lightly just beside the pearl studs.

He was kissing a line down your neck when you shivered briefly. “Are you cold?” he asked.

You didn’t know how to say I was just trying not to rub my pussy on your thigh, sorry, so you simply mumbled, “kinda.”

“Do you want to get under a blanket?” he offered, and that sounded like a great idea and you nodded quickly. He nabbed another folded lump of fabric from behind the driver’s seat, laying it out over the top of you, and you cuddled up closer to him as the weight draped you both. “Do you wanna, uh, kiss some more?”

You giggled a little as you nodded again, reaching up to hold the back of his neck as he kissed you— harder, faster, deeper, getting right to the good stuff. You had to really fight the urge to lift your leg and rest it on his waist, it would feel so good and so… natural, but it would also be, you know, a little slutty. But that was becoming less and less of a concern for you as your need grew stronger and stronger. “Eddie,” you let yourself sigh against his lips, and he tightened his grip on your waist to pull you closer.

“What’s that, princess?” he whispered, egging you on, and you smiled.

“Eddie,” you said again, hearing him growl briefly in pride. He must’ve known that a kiss had never done you in quite like this, never tempted you to do things you didn’t like to do on the first date let alone in a car… in public!

You were so desperate, you could just picture it: him rolling you onto your back, settling himself between your legs and forcing them to part with the width of his hips. Kissing you harder, rutting against you, letting you feel how hard he’d become from holding you. But as much as you tried to encourage him to go a little further— tangling your fingers into his hair, moaning ever-so-softly into the kiss, arching your back (okay, that part wasn’t intentional, but you couldn’t help it)— he never bit the bait. He did literally bite you a few times, once gently on your swollen bottom lip and then twice on your neck later on, but that was as far as he went that night. When the movie ended he watched you climb back up in the front seat and drove you home— he even had the audacity to ask what your favorite part was even though he knew damn well you hadn’t been watching it.

“I liked the part where you licked my ear,” you answered, pretending to be so full of confidence, even though your heart was starting to race again as his own cheeks tinted pink.

“Y-yeah? Good to know,” he nodded as he steered the van around a corner.

There was a longer pause in the conversation as you waited for him to bring up your next date. You made it a whole twenty seconds. “Are you gonna ask me out on another date?” you finally blurted out.

“Now?” he wondered.

“I mean, that’s what you’re supposed to do, I think,” you shrugged. “I guess you could call me tomorrow morning instead, but, you could always get it over with now.”

“You know how this works a little better than I do,” he laughed. “If you’re so eager why don’t you ask me out?”

Your face got warm as he (accurately) called you out for your impatience. “I thought it was supposed to be the other way around,” you mumbled.

“I thought you were a feminist,” he retorted proudly, grinning at you.

“Okay,” you relented, unable to fight down a smile in response to his, “Steve’s throwing a party next weekend. Come with me.”

“I can do that,” he decided with a nod, “as long as I don’t have to dress up like a trust fund kid.”

You snorted. “Definitely not. I like the idea of you sticking out like a sore thumb, actually.”

“Happy to,” he grinned. “When should I pick you up?”

“I have to help Steve set the whole thing up, actually,” you replied, “so I’ll already be there— but show up at eight and I’ll have a drink ready for you.”

He got there at seven fifty-seven. He wasn’t usually so punctual, but the promise of seeing you again was a strong motivator.

You knew he’d arrived when Steve called your name from the foyer, loud enough for you to hear where you were scooping ice into cups in the kitchen. “Your boyfriend’s here!” Steve added, making your face flush— the other guests definitely heard that.

“Steve,” you whined as you dashed past him to the open door, seeing Eddie beaming at you from the welcome mat. “H-he’s not my boyfriend…”

“I’m not?” Eddie grinned with an inquisitive eyebrow as he stepped inside, kissing you on the cheek politely while Steve shut the door.

“You wanna be?” you realized.

“Duh,” Eddie laughed.

“When we’re only on our second date?”

“Princess, I wanted to be your boyfriend before we even went on one,” he replied, and your heart fluttered.

Smiling proudly, you pulled Eddie into a kiss, as Steve kept leaning on the door with one hand and resting the other on his hips; a proud grin was on his face. “I’ll be awaiting my Wingman Of The Year Award in the mail any day now,” he announced, making you break away and look at him suspiciously.

“Wingman?” you repeated.

“Y-yeah, uh,” Eddie choked, moving his hands to your waist carefully, “Steve sorta… helped me out, when I didn’t know how to ask you— it’s not important now.”

“Yeah it is,” Steve corrected, a little offended, “I just got her to make you her boyfriend— you’re welcome.”

“Oh, you’ve done it now,” you warned Eddie playfully. “Once Steve starts meddling, he can’t stop.”

“Whatever,” Steve rolled his eyes, taking his hand off the door and starting to walk backwards towards the rest of the party. “If you’ll excuse me, there are some more star-crossed lovers in need of Cupid’s assistance, so…”

He mimed the shooting of a tiny bow and arrow before he disappeared, making you and Eddie laugh. “He’s already a little tipsy, apparently,” you noticed, but Eddie’s mind had already forgotten Steve entirely as he stared at you.

“You look amazing, by the way,” he informed you, drinking in the sight of your tight dress.

“I thought we might match if I wore something black,” you explained with a grin, “I was right.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Eddie cooed, “you wanna match with your boyfriend…”

He put extra emphasis on the last word by kissing your neck gently, and you laughed as you held onto him tighter. “You really talked to Steve about asking me out?” you remembered, and you felt Eddie nod against your neck. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me— he’s not much of a secret-keeper.”

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” he worried for a moment, pulling back.

“Of course not!” you promised. “It’s sweet… really sweet, actually, imagining you telling Steve how you’re, like, totally obsessed with me—”

“Well, it wasn’t quite like that—” Eddie began to deny.

“Shh!” you stopped him quickly. “I’m imagining it, I can imagine it however I want.”

Eddie laughed. “Fair enough. Now where’s that drink I was promised?”

Over the course of the next two hours and five drinks, you and Eddie mingled with the rest of that upper crust crowd you were used to hanging with— and, yes, they were all somewhere between confused and irritated that Eddie was here. He’s with me, you kept saying, like his arm around you wasn’t obvious enough.

He even danced with you to some music you knew he didn’t actively enjoy, but that was partly the alcohol and not just his acquiescence.

As the night seemed to get louder and rowdier, you kept trying to find somewhere that you and Eddie could be, if not alone, a little less crowded. You went outside first, but it was chilly even with his arms holding you close. All the many bedrooms of the house were, uh, occupied by this point in the evening… and so, with a devilish grin, you grabbed him by the wrist and guided him to the upstairs guest bathroom— tugging him into it and shutting the door behind you.

Before he could ask why you were in the bathroom together, you stood up on your toes to get closer to him. “I’ve been thinking about you,” you whispered in his ear.

“Yeah?” he breathed, smiling. “What were you thinking about?”

“Our date,” you remembered, “how you kissed me in your van. There were all those people around… but now we’re alone…”

“O-oh,” he choked, “yeah, we are…”

“Can you kiss me like that again?” you pleaded coyly, and he gave you a slightly dumbstruck look as he nodded.

“I can try,” he whispered, pulling you into him for a kiss that made your knees falter for a half-second— though that was partly the liquor, too.

It heated up quickly, his body pressing yours back against the sink, your moans slipping in between the movements of his lips and tongue. You hopped back and sat yourself on the counter, wrapping your legs around his hips and grinning when you felt him shiver.

“Y-you’re so sexy,” he mumbled against your skin, kissing his way to your neck, making your back arch even more. When you tightened your legs around him, it forced him to press against where your dress had ridden up— and you could feel how hard he was, through his jeans and right on your dampening panties.

“Oh, fuck,” you sighed, desperate for him to rock against you, drunk on the way it felt to make his cock all stiff and throbbing like that. And also just a little bit actually-drunk, but that was only part of it.

He kept his focus on your neck, though he pulled your dress’ single strap out of the way to kiss your shoulder, too, and his fingers on your bare skin felt fucking electric; you wanted to just fall back and lay your head against the mirror, let him do whatever he wanted to you, but you hugged him tighter instead and carded your fingers through his curly hair.

“Need you so bad,” you admitted in a hushed moan by his ear, making him grunt and hold onto your hips tightly.

“You— fuck, you know we can’t go all the way in Harrington’s bathroom, right?” he whispered harshly, pulling away from your neck to look at you with dilated eyes and bitten lips.

“Why not?” you shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve done it in here anyways…”

His eyes went wide before he cleared his throat. “I— I think we should save it for someplace a little more special, don’t you?”

You smirked at him. “Okay,” you agreed, “but we can still mess around, right?”

He grinned mischievously as he answered, “Yeah.”

“Good,” you beamed, hopping up off the counter and spinning him around suddenly to pin him back against it, “cause I wanna blow you.”

“Blow—! Blow me?!” he blurted out. “Oh, I—”

You started to drop down on your knees, but you felt his hands hold tightly onto your arms to keep you up; and you tilted your head as you looked up at him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded quickly, “it’s just— I don’t want you to think you have to do that.”

“Oh, Eddie— I don’t think I have to,” you assured, “b-but if you want me to, I’d like to…”

He surprised you by pulling you into another kiss— not rough, but definitely a little hard as he pressed his lips to yours. Never one to question a kiss, you submitted to it and slipped your arms around his shoulders. It went on for a while, almost too long, and you started to wonder if he was ever going to let you get back on your knees for him; why was he stalling?

When he broke away, he pulled you into a tight hug. “Is everything okay?” you finally asked him.

“I don’t wanna take things too fast,” he whispered, and your heart swelled. Oh my god, I’ve found the world’s best man, you thought, knowing how rare it was for a guy to think with the head on his shoulders.

You pulled back and smiled up at him. “That’s sweet,” you decided, and he smiled back at you as he brushed his hand over your hair to softly pet your head.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “We’ve got something special, I think— and the last thing I wanna do is mess it all up by rushing this.”

You leaned forward to kiss him quickly, and he smiled against you before you pulled back. “You’re so wonderful,” you hummed at him, feeling your chest warm even more as you realized you finally found a guy who liked you for you, and not just what you could do for him.

“I’m wonderful?” Eddie repeated incredulously. “Every guy out there wishes he’d been the one that brought you here tonight, you know— and none of them can believe it’s me instead. You do realize that?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a shy giggle, taking his hand quickly. “Let’s go back out there so you can rub it in a little more, okay?”

“Okay,” he laughed as he followed you back into the hallway and through the crowd, shutting the guest bathroom��s door behind you.

You tried not to bring it up again after that, not to initiate anymore— because the way you’d left things it felt like Eddie would let you know when the time was right. Him being such a gentleman wasn’t what you’d expected— not that you thought he’d be rude and pushy or anything— but it was a pleasant surprise. Even better was imagining how wild he’d be once he finally caved and just couldn’t wait to have you any longer.

October 1986

“So, what did you wanna talk about?” Steve finally prompted as you walked side by side on the trail, leaves in every warm-toned shade decorated the earth around you. He knew you were going to keep stalling, even though you’d called him and asked if you could walk to the coffee shop together and ‘talk about something important’, unless he brought it up first. You sighed— you’d wanted to stall just a bit longer, but maybe you might as well get it over with.

“Well, I feel kinda weird talking to you about this…” you trailed off.

“Me? You tell me everything,” Steve explained.

“But Eddie’s your friend,” you sighed, and Steve stopped walking— so you did, too.

“Wait,” Steve got stern quickly, “is everything okay? He’s not hurting you is he? Do you think he’s cheating? ‘Cause I—”

“Nonono,” you interrupted quickly, “it’s fine— he’s great. He’s… amazing.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, “you just let me know if he’s doing anything messed up to you, okay?”

“That’s the thing,” you frowned, crossing your arms tightly, “it’s more of what he’s not doing to me…”

“Huh?”

“Well, we’ve been going out a while now,” you began, “and I guess I thought— well, usually, by this point— you know I’m not a slut!”

He blinked rapidly at the sudden change in topic. “W-well, yeah! What’s that got to do with it?”

“I don’t like to put out on the first date,” you explained, “not even the second or third— I like to take things a little slower, it pisses some guys off but it pisses off the right guys so they can dump me if that’s all they want.”

“Right,” Steve agreed. “I should try that…”

“Yeah, right,” you rolled your eyes, knowing Steve wasn’t going to be able to keep up with a no-sex-on-the-first-date rule for long. “Anyways, my point is, with Eddie… I was actually gonna go all the way with him on our first date."

"Woah!" Steve laughed, but he raised his hands up when you glared at him. "No judgment! Seems like it worked out, anyways."

"N-no, I was going to, but then we didn't."

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Then at your party…"

"Oh god," he shuddered, "just tell me you didn't use any of my mom's nice hand towels…"

"No! Steve, we didn't do it there," you groaned, "he actually told me that he wants to take things slow."

"Oh," Steve relaxed, "cool— I guess he's pretty serious about you."

You nodded, remembering when you thought of it the same way, but that logic was less comforting now.

"So, how long did he wait before you…?"

You looked at Steve, eventually raising your eyebrows to try to signal him wordlessly, but it took him a couple seconds to put it together. "Oh, shit!" he yelped. "You haven't, still?!"

"He must think I'm hideous," you assumed immediately, hiding your face in your hands.

"I'm sure it's not that," Steve tried to assure you.

"What would it take for you to not sleep with your girlfriend after a month and a half?" you pressed.

"Uh…" Steve stalled, biting his lip.

You crossed your arms, waiting impatiently. "Let me guess: an apocalyptic event of Biblical proportions?"

"Yeah, something like that," he admitted.

"See! He's not into me at all," you whimpered.

"No way," Steve insisted, "he was crushing on you hard way before he asked you out. He told me! He only waited as long as he did 'cause he thought I'd have a problem with it, for whatever reason."

"So what changed?"

Steve pondered that. "Uh," he realized suddenly, "you don't think he's got, uh…"

Steve whistled as he held up his pinky finger, and you choked on your own throat. "We've done stuff, you know," you informed him, "and from what I can tell, that's… not the issue. At all."

"Okay, okay," Steve waved his hands, “spare me the gory details.”

“I don’t have gory details, I haven’t even seen it,” you whined.

“But it feels normal?” he prompted.

You shrugged. “Through jeans.”

“Huh,” Steve considered, “maybe he’s worried about how it looks, then. Maybe it’s all… weird-looking.”

You grimaced. “I mean, maybe…”

“Maybe it’s like, a zombie dick!” Steve exclaimed.

“You’ve been watching too many scary movies,” you rolled your eyes— this is what happens when you watch horror movies every day in anticipation of Halloween, apparently.

“Or maybe it’s an alien that controls his mind!” Steve continued regardless.

“Pretty sure all guys’ minds are controlled by their dicks, Steve,” you sighed. Except my boyfriend, the metalhead prude.

You and Eddie had been watching horror movies to get in the spooky spirit as well… you just hadn’t been watching them as effectively.

“Eddie,” you giggled as he kissed up your neck, tickling you with the tip of his tongue. He traced the shape of your ear and you groaned, pushing on his shoulders slightly as your back arched.

“I thought you liked that,” he teased.

“I-I do,” you admitted.

“Then say it,” he prompted; your thighs clenched.

“I… I like that,” you whimpered, “fuck, Eddie, s’good…”

He hummed proudly and latched his teeth onto your neck again, pressing his chest up against yours. It reminded you how hard your nipples had become, and you found yourself reaching to find one of Eddie’s hands on your lower back, guiding it up up up until he was grabbing at you through your shirt. “Fuck,” he grunted by your ear, “wanted me to feel your tits, coulda just asked, princess.”

He was definitely an auditory kind of person, liked to hear you say it all: feels good, right there, touch me, kiss me— only thing he didn’t like to hear was do we have to stop now?

Because it always stopped too soon for your tastes; you’d been camping out at second base for ages, and not that you didn’t love the way Eddie’s fingers teased your little buds at the same time that his thick hands groped your whole chest appreciatively— not that you didn’t love the way he swore you were perfect, voice low and rough as he showered you in compliments and oh-so-politely asked permission to put his mouth on them. But god, if that was the way he teased you here, you could only imagine how it would feel on your clit, those expert fingers rubbing you as he watched your face fall into ecstasy, as he told you he would put a few inside to warm you up for his cock…

Literally, you could only imagine it. It was driving you actually fucking crazy.

He hummed as he pushed your shirt up, latching onto your nipple the second one was exposed to him, and you cried out loudly— probably loud enough for one of the neighboring trailers to hear, honestly. Not that you had the energy to care about that now.

“So sensitive,” he mocked lightly, flicking the bud over and over with the end of his tongue for a second. “Are they always like this?”

No, only when you’ve been edging me for seven weeks. “J-just for you,” you stammered out, and he hummed quickly before moving on to the other, tilting his head— he looked damn good like that, eyes shut with his lashes resting on his cheeks, mouth open just enough to fit your nipple inside, full lips suckling at you. “You’re pretty,” you blurted out, and he blinked those big eyes open to smile up at you.

“Me?” he chuckled. “Nah, no way.”

“Yeah you are,” you insisted with a laugh, sitting up slightly. “You’re hot, actually.”

You reached for his shoulders and guided him back, until he was sitting properly on the couch again (which he hadn’t been since ten minutes into the movie when he descended on you) and you were the one leaning over him. “Oh,” he gasped a bit when you straddled his lap; the energy changed a bit.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly.

“U-uh, yeah,” he nodded, and you smiled as you rested your hands on his shoulders before you kissed him again. It was a little different this time, it felt less like fooling around and more like… something important. His hands didn’t stay glued to your chest this time, they wandered carefully to your exposed back, holding you delicately like you were breakable; his kiss was delicate, too, everything felt more patient. You thought it couldn’t get any better than that heat-of-the-moment feeling, that playful energy you had before, but the sensuality of this was newer and even more addictive.

You sighed as you moved in his lap— not of your own accord, just your body surrendering to instinct. Your hips sought any friction they could find and your hands searched his chest for a good place to latch on to; they ended up sliding over his neck and into his hair, which made him softly moan as you tugged on the messy locks.

“Princess,” he choked, “fuck— you’re so… fuck.”

You rocked your hips a little slower, but pressed down harder into his lap, and both of you groaned as you rubbed right on the firm bulge under his fly. “Eddie,” you whimpered, feeling his fingers tighten at your waist, “I— I want you…”

Your heart sank as he gasped and pushed you back. “M-maybe we should slow down a bit,” he decided suddenly. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you stared down, sitting on his knees.

“Um… okay…” you mumbled quietly. You hadn’t really tried to get things going since Steve’s party, but you didn’t really suspect that if you did, you’d be outright rejected. It wasn’t something you were used to in a time like this. “Do you… still wanna kiss?”

“Yeah!” he said quickly. “I just… I don’t wanna take things too fast.”

That excuse was cute a month ago. Your shoulders slumped defeatedly and you pulled your shirt down again— but you still felt uncomfortably exposed, somehow, and you wrapped your arms around yourself to try to distract from the empty feeling inside.

“Oh god, princessl, what’s wrong?” he cooed quietly. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know… but can you tell me what’s going on?” you pleaded. “Is it me? You are attracted to me, right?”

“What?! Of course I am,” he shook his head, bewildered by your insecurity. As if that was something you should’ve figured out by, what, clairvoyance?

“I’m just not sure what to think,” you mumbled. “I wanna go further— and I don’t wanna, you know, force you or pressure you or anything, but to be totally honest… I’ve never had to talk a guy into sex before. And I can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong.”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he promised, “at least not with you. I do wanna, you know, take the next step with you. It’s been driving me crazy to keep stopping you when you offer… all that stuff…”

“So why turn me down?” you pouted. “If we both want it, what else is there to worry about?”

He sighed slightly as he glanced away.

“C’mon, Eddie, is something going on?” you pleaded. “Just talk to me. Whatever it is, I wanna know.”

“Well, yeah,” he relented, “it’s… it’s me, it’s this thought I have every time I try to take things past just making out.”

You waited patiently for his explanation, wringing your hands nervously.

“You and Steve went out for… a while,” he recalled. “And, you know, he’s— got a reputation. A very good one.”

“Oh,” you sighed.

“And he’s, uh… been with a lot of girls,” Eddie continued nervously. “I-I’m not a virgin or anything, but I’ve never actually had a girlfriend before, so…”

“So?” you encouraged.

“I guess I just… I’m worried that I won’t be as good as him,” he finally admitted. “Actually, I’m about ninety-five percent confident I won’t be as good as him— and if I’m not, maybe you… won’t wanna go out anymore.”

“Eddie,” you sighed, equal parts relieved and heartbroken and bewildered. You reached up and held his face in both your hands, making him look at you. “I wanna be with you. Not Steve, or anybody else.”

“And when you say be with…” he trailed off.

“I mean that in every sense,” you clarified. “I like going out with you, I love being your girlfriend. And I want us to do what boyfriends and girlfriends do— I want us to, you know… touch each other, and pleasure each other…”

You lowered your voice, moving in a little closer on his lap, and his gaze seemed to get a little heavier.

“Feel each other,” you continued, “and explore, you know? ‘Cause yeah, it will be different than it was with Steve. But Steve and I had to get to know each other before it was really great. I think once we get a chance to practice, we’ll be even better.”

“Practice?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you grinned, “that’s the fun part.”

Eddie blinked at you quickly. “I— I guess it’s different when you’re dating, huh? Because I’ve never had a chance to, uh, improve for next time. I’ve never had a next time before.”

You smiled. “Well, if things go my way,” you explained, leaning in closer beside his face, “there’s gonna be a next time—” you kissed his cheek, “and a next time—” you moved around and kissed the other— “and a next time…”

He shuddered when you placed a quick peck on his jaw. “Okay,” he breathed, “I like the sound of that. But… I want our first time to be… you know, really amazing and stuff.”

You laughed. “After all this damn anticipation, I’m sure it will be. You drove me crazy making me wait so long, Eddie.”

He coughed; “S-sorry,” he offered, “I wasn’t trying to, I swear. And it drove me crazy, too. I honestly wanted to make it with you right then and there in my van at the drive-in on our very first date— but I figured I’d get slapped if I tried that.”

You bit your lip as you leaned in a little closer. “Eddie, I would’ve let you,” you whispered. “I was so hot for you, I wanted you so bad…”

He swallowed as he blinked up at you. “I-I didn’t think you were that kind of girl,” he admitted, and you giggled.

“I’m not,” you promised, “I just couldn’t help it when you kissed me like that. I was totally yours, Eddie, from the first kiss.”

His fingers squeezed your hips and you purred. “God, that’s— you’re so perfect,” he sighed. “I-I was honestly afraid I would bust in my jeans that night,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “and then at Harrington’s party, when you said you wanted to…? I was toast.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You know, that offer still stands if you want me to—”

“Oh, fuck no,” he laughed, “I’m already gonna be fighting to last once I get inside you, don’t need you getting me all worked up with that pretty mouth you’ve got.”

His finger traced your lips and you opened them to suckle on the end of it; his lip twitched and you felt his hips rock up against you.

“Fuck,” he grunted, “let’s go to bed, angel, I think we’ve waited long e-fucking-nough.”

Of course, ‘let’s go to bed’ makes it sound more cooperative— really he all but carried and dragged you across the trailer to his bed, tossing you onto it and peeling his shirt off in a second before he descended onto you. Giggling, you held the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss you sweetly.

Your shirt didn’t last long, either, but he was more interested in getting your skirt and stockings off; and thank god for that, because you didn’t need any more foreplay after getting teased for the past… sixteen, maybe seventeen dates? You lost count a while ago.

He propped himself up on one arm above you, looking down with his bottom lip between his teeth as he saw your panties. You bit your lip, too, at the sight of his expression— of his eyes darkening a bit and his chest filling with a deep breath.

“Oh, princess,” he cooed, making you shiver joyfully. “Look at these…”

His fingers traced the lacy edge of your underwear, toying quickly with the little bow at the front. “That tickles,” you mumbled, and he met your gaze again with a grin.

“These all for me?” he assumed, and you nodded. “Wanted to get all dressed up for me, in case I finally took you to bed?”

“Something like that,” you admitted. You hadn’t worn nice panties to every date, as your hope for more than back-of-the-bus level touching faded, but thankfully something told you to wear them to this one. That ‘something’ being Steve.

“They’re cute,” he decided, “all… girly, and delicate, like you.” He lifted your legs slightly, and his playful attitude shifted to something a bit more intense. “And they’re— fuck, baby— they’re soaked.”

You wiggled your hips, slightly self-conscious about him staring at the wet patch on your blush lace. “Th-that’s just what you do to me,” you replied, just before he shut you up with another bruising kiss, pressing his body down on yours. Even just his bare chest against your own was soothing and warm.

He rocked his hips against yours, pressing the bulge under his fly right up to that wet spot on your panties; you could feel the ridge of his head, the way his cock throbbed, even his balls pressing up to your ass through the denim. “That,” he whispered into your lips, “is what you do to me.”

“Fuck,” you whined, “I wanna— lemme feel you, Eddie, please, I w-wanna… wanna touch you there.”

“Where?” he prompted teasingly.

“Your cock,” you groaned, and he sat up to start working on his belt.

“Coulda just said so,” he insisted with a wink, admiring the way you looked all wide-eyed and needy as you watched him open his jeans.

If only it had been that easy; but you were sure the wait would be worth it, especially when you saw the thick outline of his cock through the checkered boxers. It looked even bigger than it felt before— actually, you were a little light-headed looking at it all of a sudden.

You were reaching up for the waistband already but he stopped you, grabbing your hands and grinning mischievously as he pinned them at your sides. "Ah ah, not yet," he corrected teasingly, "I wanna see you first. You wrapped your pussy up like a little present for me, don't I get to open it?"

You wouldn't have minded if he opened that present the way he actually opened presents: tearing at the paper ferally. But instead he removed your panties slowly and delicately, like one of those people who unsticks the tape and saves the paper. Except instead of that he was sliding his fingers down your thighs, watching the lace unstick from your damp folds, groaning low in his chest as you were revealed to him.

It wasn't until the panties were past your ankles and tossed aside that you could open your legs— or, more accurately, that he could carefully guide your legs to spread for him— and he stared down with his lip between his teeth at your pussy. You felt a little awkward being examined like that, but it was all worth it for the way his nostrils flared, the way he brought his thumb to the point where your lower lips met and pulled your sex taut for a better look at your swollen button, the way he sighed and tilted his head back for a moment with his eyes shut— like it was too much to look at it for that long, like he needed a break to cope with the perfection before him. "Baby," he all but moaned as he stared down at it again— and then at you, at your shy face waiting for him to say something. "So fuckin' pretty. Shit, gotta be the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

You bit down on your smile as he laid down over you again, kissing you hungrily. You felt him start to push his own boxers down and you weren't about to let him do it all by himself, so you reached down between your body and his to grab his erection— and you both groaned as you held it.

"Mm," he hummed, kissing your neck for a moment, "your hands are soft…"

But his sweet tone shifted a bit as you wrapped your legs around his hips, making him press forward enough for you to guide his squishy head right over your folds.

"Fuck," he whispered harshly, "y'wanna put it in for me, princess?" He seemed amused by your eagerness, after spending the last month and a half making you this desperate. "Just can't wait anymore, need me too bad?"

You whimpered, but nodded. He pulled his face back from where it had nestled by your neck and looked down at you with a smile. His gaze had softened a bit, something sweet and gentle in his stare. "Need you, Eddie," you agreed before he could even ask you to just say it, princess.

He kissed you again, a little more patiently, and let you move his cock right up to your hole that had been flexing helplessly since this all started. He kept kissing you even as he pushed inside, both of you gasping together at the feeling.

“Oh, Eddie,” you sighed into his mouth fallen slack, holding tightly onto his shoulder blades. “Is that— are you all the way in?”

“Just a little more,” he whispered, “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

You shook your head, and he gave you the rest with a gentle thrust into the end of you; you arched your back, but it wasn’t too difficult to take. He was thick enough that maybe it should’ve stung, but after this much anticipation you were beyond prepared.

“Wow,” he panted, right into your slack-open mouth, “you feel like fucking heaven.”

His pace was gentle and slow at first, each of his breaths hot puffs across your face before he had to hug you tighter, hold you closer, bury his face just above your shoulder. Your walls hugged onto him tight, just like your legs wrapped around his hips, and he breathed in the scent of your heated skin by the crook of your neck.

With each stroke you dragged your nails lightly across the back of his neck, tangling your fingers into his mess of curls.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the sound of it, the wet noises that filled the trailer each time Eddie's hips collided with your own.

"Fuck," he sighed right by your ear, "princess— you're so… so fucking wet…"

That much was obvious, but hearing the way it made Eddie practically melt was amazing. His voice broke with each moan beside your ear, every slide against your dripping walls, every plunge into your warmth. He picked up the pace quickly, struggling to hold himself back anymore.

He whined out your name a few times, his clammy hands slipping under your back and keeping you hugged tightly against him. "S-so good," he grunted, "you're so good, princess, feel so good for me�� fuck."

Turns out, Eddie was just as talkative during sex as he was at all other times. And thank god for that, because hearing him talk made you shiver all over, even inside. "Eddie," you whimpered, feeling the curve of his cock stroke right on that place inside— at just the same time that his hips were rubbing on your clit from the gyrating motion of his thrusts. "Fuck— right there, right there—"

"Like that?" he noticed. "This how you like it, baby?"

"Yes," you promised. "Yes, yes, yes…"

He kept his motions the same but moved a little faster, skin slapping on yours and your whole body rocking up and down— or maybe it was the mattress under you… or maybe it was the trailer itself. Possibly all of the above.

His mouth was wide open just by your neck, every soft grunt and panted breath falling out for you— and they were getting louder the longer he went on, his grip on your back was tightening. You knew he was close already from all of that plus the way you felt his cock jump inside you, and it turned you on like nothing else.

"Princess," he whined, "you— god, you… fuck."

You giggled a bit at the way he had failed completely to finish whatever sentence he'd started.

"Aw, don't laugh at me," he pouted slightly, though the way he had to talk through his teeth made it sound almost like a threat— and you really liked that. "Can't help it, I can't fucking think straight when I'm inside you— Christ I still can't believe it, you know. That you want me. You could have anybody— fuck— and you feel fucking perfect and— god I dunno how much more of this I can take."

As good as it felt, you weren't quite there yet— you weren't even close, really. It always took you a while to finish, but Eddie clearly didn't have a while: he was already all red in the face and moaning weakly into your neck, fucking you with needy and erratic thrusts. But you didn't even care; it was so sweet, seeing him lose his cool so quickly, you didn't mind if you weren't left quite as satisfied at the end of this. It was worth it to watch him fall apart and know you were the cause.

“Fuck, fuck!” he whined. “Oh— fuck, I don’t wanna come yet, I shouldn’t come yet—”

But you could see it was killing him; his face was tightened up so hard and he couldn’t seem to force himself to slow down. “It’s okay,” you promised, “it’s okay, you can come, Eddie…”

“Oh my god oh my god,” he rushed in a split second, “I-I’m gonna come. Fuck, I can come inside, right?”

You laughed lightly. “Yeah,” you assured.

“Good, ‘cause, I dunno if I can pull out,” he admitted.

In a second he was slamming his hips into yours, desperately chasing release— and your moans got louder and sharper at the feeling.

"Fuck, baby, fuckfuckfuck—!" he whimpered, moving his hands to your hips to keep you as still as possible; and suddenly, he sunk down and deflated with a long sigh, and knowing he was coming inside you made a tingle crawl up your back.

He only took a half second to catch his breath and blink his eyes open before he was looking at you apologetically.

“I’m so sorry,” he panted right away, “you didn’t—”

“Hey, it’s fine,” you promised, “like I said, there’s always next time—”

“No,” he said firmly, surprising you. “This time. You need to come this time, too.”

"W-well, I—" you started, cut off when his thumb found your slick and throbbing nub and stroked it in careful circles. Instantly your hips jumped and your walls seized up, a shaky breath slipping out of your lips. "Oh…"

"S'that better, princess?" he cooed, still breathing heavily— he hadn't even lost his boner yet, and the feeling of your pussy bearing down on him from pleasure was surely helping to keep it alive. "Tell me how it feels."

"Good," you choked, feeling him press harder on it, "fuck, I— I like it when you touch me there…"

"Mhm?" he encouraged. "Like when I rub your clit?"

You sighed; "Yeah, fuck, Eddie— I like it—"

He pulled out suddenly and climbed down, kissing and biting hungrily at your inner thighs before you'd even processed what was happening. It made your hips lift off the bed, the way his teeth teased your sensitive skin, and the pressure of that forced a thick drop of his come out of your cunt.

When he saw it, his eyebrows knitted and his chest sunk— he almost looked heartbroken just from the sight of it.

"God, that's too perfect," he groaned, "I got you so full, princess, you can't even fit it all inside— it's dripping, baby, fuck, that's my come dripping out of you right now…"

He held your thighs and stared right at it, watched that creamy white drop run down the seam of your ass, your little hole flexing right in front of his face— and he couldn't help it, he had to dive in and lick it up.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he latched onto you, hot and hungry mouth tasting every inch of your cunt that his tongue could reach.

"Eddie!" you yelped, shocked but overwhelmingly aroused that he was doing something so… well, filthy. Eating his own come from you after pumping it so deep into you; and he seemed to be just as pleased, shutting his eyes tight and moaning as his plunged his tongue inside you and lapped up the mix of his come and your wetness.

He broke away for just a second, panting, looking up at you with glassy eyes. “We taste so good together,” he said, like he didn’t even notice how sexy that was to say. He went in again to lap at you, taking more time over your clit this go-round— and making your legs shake a little when he did. His eyes darted to the side as he noticed it, a grin breaking out around his extended tongue which he slipped back into his mouth. “Oh… I like when you do that. Think I’ll have to see if I can make you do it again.”

He gave another wide lap of his tongue over your bud, pressing down hard until your legs shook again. He kept his tongue still and nodded his head up and down slightly, and it just happened over and over until your back was arching up off the bed and were clutching at his hair in hopes of mercy. “F-fuck, Eddie, feels really good,” you managed to choke out.

But it was just the beginning, and a second later he wrapped his lips around your bud and suckled at it— almost too hard, but just the right amount of too hard.

“Oh god!” you shouted before you could stop yourself. “Fuck!”

He hummed proudly and kept going, swirling his tongue over the delicate skin as you whimpered and sobbed. It was intense and sharp, hot shocks of pleasure jumping up through your body.

"I'm gonna come!" you shouted— too loud, too whiny, too beautifully pathetic. "Eddie, baby, please—"

You had no idea what you were asking for, but he hummed and nodded without breaking away, and you were sure that whatever it was, he would give it to you.

Both your hands held onto his head and you started to just writhe, there wasn't much else you could do. Paradoxically, as you started to reach the peak, your body fought to get away from the sensation— like it was too much, like you were scared to come this hard. But Eddie held you to your promise to come, fighting to stay latched onto you even as you bucked and almost screamed; and then, once it hit you, it was over in a flash. The white-hot pleasure burned you up in a moment and you had to actually push his head away before it hurt too much.

"Fuck, fuck," you panted, sighing with relief as he let go and grinned up at you with a smile soaked in your cream.

"Did you come?" he asked excitedly, as you collapsed back limply onto the mattress.

"Are you kidding?" you wheezed, and he laughed softly as he climbed back up to lay down next to you, draping an arm over your waist. “I— fuck, Eddie,” you laughed breathlessly, “nobody’s ever made me come that way before.”

“Not even Steve?” he beamed.

“Not even Steve,” you agreed.

"So… that means I'm… better than him?" Eddie prompted hopefully.

"Eddie, it's not about that," you frowned, "it's— you're totally different, it's apples and oranges."

"Okay but, between apples and oranges, which one is better at sex?"

You shoved him on the shoulder but he pulled you into a tight hug, keeping you close even when you wanted to squirm away and leave him alone as punishment for bringing this up.

"Just tell me so I can rub it in Harrington's smug little face tomorrow," Eddie pleaded, and you laughed a bit.

"I'm gonna be too busy rubbing it in your smug little face tomorrow," you warned him with a raised eyebrow, and he grinned excitedly. "I— actually, can I sit on your face sometime? I've always wanted to try that."

"O-okay, yeah, we can do that instead," he nodded eagerly. "Whatever you want, princess."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction

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