Hi Girlies

I just needed another sideblog so I can reblog good writing :)

[ameliora-j]

That makes me think of him, or any of them, rubbing your back as he's waking you up before he leaves and saying "give daddy a kiss before he leaves for work" to get a slow and sleepy kiss before he spends all day at the studio.......God they're all so daddy but in such different ways too -calum girlie (also I'm so sorry for the spam, pls lmk if I send in too much)

there is literally no such thing as “too much” when it comes to my ask box

but yeah… yeah it gives me cal vibes 🥹 he wasn’t supposed to be going in today but there was something messed up with the vocals, and so he wakes up real real early — like 5am — and he’s careful and quiet getting ready so that u don’t wake up

untill a large, warm hand is running up the expanse of your back, over the soft green hoodie that belongs to the man in question (you know the one). your humming quietly, still very much in dreamland, but cognizant enough to hear all that he’s saying

“give daddy a kiss baby… gotta go to work” cal whispers. you let out a quiet whine, keeping your eyes closed as you slowly roll over and lazily pucker your lips. he chuckles softly and kisses you softly, slow and lazy as he knows you’re still practically asleep. “i love you” he whispers.

you hum an answer, but calum knows you love him too. he smiles, kissing your head gently before heading for the studio.

[youreirrelevant]

Skyglow

pairing: kendall roy/reader

summary: “I want you to take care of me.” That makes him ache. Fills him with that heavy, hot feeling- the one you get when something’s a little wrong.

words: 1787

tags: explicit, sickfic, daddy kink, praise kink, but also a little degradation kink, pwp, established relationship, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, playful sex, like the tiniest bit of fluff, implied age gap, there's really nothing that establishes when this is so

a/n: I started writing this when I was sick a few weeks ago and I thought I'd finish it. It's just for fun. It's a little silly. It doesn't all have to be serious or good.

It always felt like a waste, to stay in bed all day. Somehow scrolling through your phone in the living room seemed more productive than if you did it in bed. You barely even had the energy to do that. Left thinking. Wanting. Always find your mind wandering to him and what he can do for you. A warm, soft place to rest your hands. Press your lips against.

A deep voice to coax you through what his cock brings out of you— 

But the exhaustion was bone-deep. Bending a finger, lifting an eyelid- both felt nearly impossible. Even while lying down you felt weak, like you couldn’t get deep enough into the pillow, into the mattress. You needed to pool and bubble out; water spilled on the counter. 

The door opening wakes you from what must’ve been the fifth nap of the day. You were in a guest room- you didn’t want to get Kendall sick. He had shit to do, things that were “unmissable.” 

It’s dark. You can see out of the window from the bed; the sky is blue-black, a yellow edge on the horizon that fades up into it. Planes blink red and white across it. Only some of the windows in the other buildings are lit, and you wonder how late it really is. It's quiet; you can hear the AC running. The apartment is thrumming with a sleepy energy, like the way voices sound when you’re dozing off- blurred and smoothed at the edges.

“Can I, uh, can I sleep with you?”

You mumble that he can, voice croaky and gone. Scooting further in on the bed to make room for him- every joint aching so badly you almost whimper. He wraps his arm around you, kisses the back of your neck, and breathes. The heat on your skin makes you melt. 

“I couldn’t sleep without you in there with me.”

He brings you a little closer, for emphasis.

“I’d like to say the same, but I’m exhausted.”

A little huff of air from him, an affectionate smile you can’t see. Another kiss, right along your hairline. 

You both lay there for a while, but you don’t fall back asleep. The thoughts are much worse when he’s flush against you, firm thighs and a softer chest. His arms around you- you want him to use them to pull you down over him. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping? You said you’re tired.” He sounds groggy, as if maybe he’d fallen asleep, for just a second. 

“I know I was just- I was thinking of this,” you giggle a little, “of this tweet. Where this guy said that pussy, when someone has a fever, is crazy because it’s so hot.”

He grins so wide it hurts his face.

“Is this your way of, uh, telling me you want me to fuck you?”

“I mean- we gotta at least find out for ourselves.”

Kendall slips his hand beneath the waistband of your pajamas, uses the pads of his fingers to guide your leg up, to drape over his leg. He’s surprised to find you so wet, skin scorching against his. Wonders how long you were thinking about it. Rubs your clit slowly, and you’re practically boneless already. But then fingertips work down, towards your cunt, and you tense in anticipation. He knows you’re sick; he should be nice. But he can’t help but tease, doing it a few times until you whine his name. 

“You need it that bad?”

“Please- ” you sound kind of annoyed, as if his denial doesn’t warm you.

His clothes are moved just enough, but he grips the waistband of your pants to yank them down as far as he can from his position- he wants to get at you fully. They get stuck above your knees, and you huff and whine as you kick them free clumsily. Kendall’s undeterred, puts you back where you were. Presses in easily, and maybe they were right. Your groan is distant in his ears. When he’s seated fully, he rests his forehead against your shoulder.

“Well?”

“It- it is hotter. It could be, uh-,” he makes a muffled sound, like he’s steadying himself, “be in my head, though. Placebo effect, or something.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, the noise scraping out of you so badly he almost couldn’t tell what it was.

“You’re ridiculous. You’ve been asleep all day, I come in to sleep with you and you want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to take care of me.”

That makes him fucking ache. Fills him with that heavy, hot feeling- the one you get when something’s a little wrong. He places a big hand on the back of your thigh, slides it up to lift your ass cheek, spread you open. 

“Like, a daddy thing, or-?”

Oh… man.

“I don’t know if we- if we have to be so- if we need to go quite that far.”

As soon as you say it you’re prepared to recant. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies and warmth but it seems so much more taboo than other things that people would actually consider worse. So heavily stigmatized, something everyone knew about and mocked. His teeth press into your shoulder, like he’s squeezing it out of you. 

“Well- it does sound… kind of hot. Maybe we ease into it? Maybe ‘daddy’ doesn’t have to be said, but implied?”

His hand slips over your hip to rest on your lower stomach, a slow pull and push of his hips as his fingers find your clit again. Not wasting any time.

“You want me to ‘take care’ of you?”

Plush lips slide beneath your ear as he speaks, and every inflection and hard consonant fills you with heat. It’s your words, but from his mouth, it sounds good and perfect and right. His voice is soothing in this condescending way and it makes your lashes flutter.

“Yes, Kendall.”

He uses his palm against your pubic bone to pull you close, allow him to get deeper, fuck a little rougher. Insistent. You reach behind you to grab at his waist, fingers fisting in the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Your voice is fucked- every moan and whimper is broken and raspy and quiet. He kind of likes it, drags his lips over your neck, laughing affectionately when his finger presses harder, rubs at just the right angle, against just the right side and you cry out hoarsely. Barely able to keep your eyes open before but you want him so fucking bad. 

It’s like you’re next to a fire; you can practically see a red glow coming from your skin, penetrating your closed eyelids. You’re limp, melted into the smooth sheets, rolling weakly against him when you really need it. His brows pinch and his jaw falls open with a desperate noise before his lip is tucked beneath his teeth. Kendall props himself up on his elbow, fingers slipping into your hair, damp from sweat, turns your head enough to kiss you. So slack and pliant. You don't even think to stop him. 

“Does that feel better? Is this what you needed?” 

Jesus. It’s as if your brain is already fried- you’re already gone. Making some noise that’s probably the saddest attempt at an ‘mhmm,’ ever been done. Trembling, pulled tighter, breathing ragged and uneven and burning in your chest and throat. He brushes the tip of his nose over your temple- his own breath puffs rapid and hot against you.  Grunting when you grip even tighter. 

When you cum, it's so good it hurts. Like massaging a sore muscle, or fingers into your cheeks when your sinuses ache. It seeps into your hips and belly and back and you lean into it, into him. He shushes you and you can’t help but let out this startled ‘ god .’ You want to tell him he feels perfect, fucking perfect, but the words don’t come out. His pace doesn’t falter -no matter how snug and plush and slick you are around him- and it makes it seem like it’s lasting forever. 

Kendall thinks it’s lasting forever; you’re over a cliffside, on the other end of a rope, trying to pull him down when he has to keep you up. He makes sounds like he’s struggling; when you finally relax, he sounds relieved. 

Part of him wants to keep it up, and he can’t help, for a second, seeing the new ease with which his fingers slip over you, pressing three flat against your labia to make you squirm from the sensitivity. But that doesn’t last long, arm moving to wrap around your waist to hold you in place. Insistent. 

You’re awash with fatigue, fingers curling around the edge of your pillow, lids low over your eyes. Each time his hips meet your ass you make these pathetic little noises from the impact, sometimes barely even audible. He grabs your face again to turn you toward him- you feel hot, cheeks flushed to show it. Skin around your eyes, shiny, blueish, almost cartoonish. But you look up at him dutifully.

“You’re so pretty when you take it for me.”

That reignites something in you, makes you moan and grab at him.

“Such a pretty, perfect little girl deserves to feel good. Always desperate to cum on my cock- thinking about it when you can barely fucking think.”

You let out something between a gasp and a laugh, stunned. Thrown against the ledge but you can’t go over until you get that little bit more. 

“I- Ken, can you- would you-?”

This is how it always goes- just one more. Kendall gives it to you and goes to get his, but it always puts you right there, and he can’t help but oblige. He wants to tell you to do it yourself, because you’re tired, and maybe you won’t get off and you’ll get frustrated and whine. That makes him feel orange-hot and tingly, makes his hips stutter at the thought. But that’s not what this was tonight. The wide pad of his middle finger is tight against you -swollen, slick- and even with how fast you cum, he cums faster, hips so rough against yours that you whimper and wince.

He’s almost as light-headed as you are, almost as lax, weak. Every inch of you is unbearably heavy; it's like your skin could slough off your face. It’s so good.

“I might bring a whole new, literal level to sleeping like the dead.”

Your voice cracks and you slump forward onto your stomach, keeping your face turned from him.

“At least you’ll feel better.” Smiling softly, rubbing your back.

“You’ll join me shortly, since you fucking kissed me.”

[from-the-clouds]

giving kendall roy a blowjob pls

i have a fic about this here buuuttt i've been so down bad for ken lately and am embarrassed to say i literally dropped all my WIPs to also write this. inspired by this gif from @technicolourtelevision. also please follow my succ sideblog if u are a kendall girlie like myself @kendollroyco!

warnings: smut under the cut (18+ only, oral sex m receiving, degradation, dom!kendall - sorry but i want him to be mean to me) not proofread, and potentially just bad -- i wrote this in like a 30 minute fugue state.

first off, where you do this is kind of important because there are sooooo many good opportunities. maybe you work for him and he's making you suck him off under your desk, his hand down the front of your blouse. you have to go to the bathroom after to clean yourself up because your mascara is smudged and he's ruined your hair. or maybe you're on your knees for him in the back of a car, and he's refusing to roll up the partition. the straps of the gown you've got on are falling off your shoulders, and you're worried about getting caught but he's shoving your head down and he's whispering shit like 'but you're taking it anyways, aren't you?' and you can't help but moan as he shifts his hips so you take him even deeper.

but REALLY what i think about is like, in the most recent episode when he talks about not sleeping well. you're his girlfriend who lives with him, but you hardly see him. and one night when he comes home late you can just tell he's tense, like, ready to snap at anyone who gets in his way. you're curled up wearing one of his old harvard sweatshirts maybe watching tv or looking at your phone and he looks so fucking good in one of those suits that fits him like a glove.

when you ask him how he's doing, he's short and snippy. 'fine.'

'you stressed or something?' you ask, rather than start an argument.

'fuckin', uh, i don't know, what does it look like?'

you're sort of taken aback by how rude his response it, standing over you with his hands on his hips. 'don't tell me you waited up this late for me....' he's trying to chastise you, but you can see right through him.

'you're working too much' you sit up.

'uh-huh, right. i don't want to hear your shit right now, i'm fuckin' exhausted-' and he's trying to be mean, to push you away.

'i bet. all you do is toss and turn at night,' you agree.

you reach out, hook your fingers around the cool silver of his belt buckle and yank. he steps forward, even if his eyebrows are still pinched together, his lips curled down into a frown.

'i could give you something that might help.'

by the time you've pulled his briefs down to his ankles, his face has neutralized, even though his hands are still on his hips. you drop to your knees, ignoring the chill of the italian marble. he smiles a little, then, puts a hand on top of your head.

you don't go slow, you don't want to, and he doesn't let you. he pulls your hair and jerks his hips into your mouth. you take him all, using your hands to spread the slick from gagging on him several times around. of course, he talks you through it, tells you exactly what to do and how he wants it in that deep, raspy voice, which only gets deeper when he's turned on.

'god, you're such a fucking slut.'

and you don't care about looking pretty while you blow him. no, you might normally try to be cute about it, but when he's mean it only makes you more feral. you choke and gasp until tears run from the corner of your eyes and you're drooling, straddling his foot and grinding yourself against his black prada oxford's.

you whine and mewl around him, mouth so full the noises are unintelligible. 'you're so pathetic,' he groans, looking down at you, and you can tell he's getting close because his voice doesn't have the same conviction as before. 'that's it, atta girl, just take it.'

the more you allow yourself to get into it, the more turned on you get. the more turned on you are, the more desperate and filthy you want to feel. it just keeps building, compounding. until you take him just a little too far and retch. 'easy, easy.' kendall pulls back, his voice stern.

glancing up, he almost looks concerned. he scolds you. 'control yourself.'

you're pissed that it nearly sobers you up. 'shhh,' you hiss, swat his hand away from where it's landed on your cheek.

'okay, fine, if you fuckin' want it that bad.' his fingers fist the back of your head again.

immediately, you wrap your lips back around his cock. you use both hands to jerk him while you suck on his tip, bobbing your head and humming around him.

he gets quiet, and that's your cue. he's not great at using his words when he's about to come, but it's a good indication to keep up the rhythm you've built and not stop under any circumstances.

'uh-huh, that's-fuck!' ken makes sure he's buried in the back of your throat when he comes, hard, his hips stilling their movements, but he keeps your head in place with both his hands until he's sure you've swallowed everything he has to give you.

at some point, you pull away and slump against the back of the couch. your eyes are watering, your face feels impossibly hot, and your jaw aches. it's hard to see straight, so you cover your eyes with your hand.

'jesus,' kendall mutters your name.

you peek at him between your fingers to see him squat down. now he's on the same level as you. he moves your hand away from your face, a look of genuine curiosity etched in his features. you'd never blown him like that before. 'where'd that come from, sweetheart?'

'it's dumb,' you shake your head, a little embarrassed. 'i listened to this podcast...'

the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, hand under your chin so you are forced to look at him. 'uh-huh?' he asks. 'at home all day fuckin' uh....taking notes on how to give me good head?'

'shut up,' you go to smack his head away, feeling a new warmth rise to your cheeks, but he grabs your wrist and hauls you against his chest, nose poking into your hair, lips on your cheek.

'is there, uh, anything else they had to say on there i might be interested in learning about?'

'potentially,' you answer. 'if you have all night...'

he laughs, a comforting rumble right into your ear. 'i do.'

[ddejavvu]

Hi, could i make a request for Eddie Munson, ab angst/comfort one where he cries the first time reader kisses him? Because he's never ever been loved like that, and he didn't realize how touch starved he was until the gesture overwhelmed him? 🥺❤️ Love your writing

i love love love touch starved!eddie/lovesick eddie who has never been loved on like that before :(( <33

--

Tears are the absolute last reaction anyone wants to their kiss. Yet here they are, wetting your boyfriend's lashes and streaking down his cheeks. You feel one slide against your lip, you feel the taste of salt invade the kiss, and you pull back.

"Eddie-" You start, but he's already hunched over, facing away from you as he rubs furiously at his eyes.

"Shit," He breathes, his voice creaky, "Sorry, sweetheart. Just gimme a second, okay?"

He's trying to placate you, he's trying to make you think it's not as bad as it is. But you know better, and you set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Eddie," You try again, keeping your voice low and soothing, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," He croaks, a strand of his hair caught in his mouth, "I.. I swear honey, nothing's wrong, jus' gotta-"

"Eddie," You repeat one final time, "Please don't lie to me."

He sighs shakily, a shudder wracking his shoulders that you can feel in your hand.

"It's dumb." He attempts to stave off your worry but you're not having it.

"It's making you cry," You remind him, "If it's making you cry it's not dumb."

"No, it is, though." He insists, finally sitting up straight and letting his hands fall into his lap, "It's stupid. Listen, when I was a kid," He starts, his eyes still red-rimmed and teary, "My mom.. she died when I was real young."

"I'm sorry to hear that," You let your hand fall from his shoulder to one of his own, his rings cool against your skin.

"And- and my dad," He presses on, "He was not nice. My uncle's great and all, but we don't really touch. He hugs me on my birthday and stuff, sometimes he, I dunno, pats my shoulder? I just.." He hesitates, avoiding your eyes, "I don't get loved, not like that. And I guess-" He squeezes your hand, his voice shaking, "I guess I like being loved."

You don't mean to fall silent after his confession, but you do. You're so overwhelmed with endearment for the crying boy in front of you that you take your time admiring him, the soft blush on his cheeks and the scrunch of his nose as he sniffles.

Then you speak, "Well, I'm glad you like being loved. Because I like loving you, Eddie. I love loving you."

His face tugs up into a teary grin, a sob lingering in his throat that he has to fight to contain. He digs his teeth into his lower lip, nodding softly and sending his hair bouncing, "Yeah?"

There's so much hope in his voice, so much desperation that it nearly brings tears to your eyes.

"Yeah." You confirm. You cup his cheeks, giving him time to process the movement before you plant a firm kiss against his nose, "I'll always love you, Eddie, for as long as you'll let me."

[familyvideostevie]

hi honey!! found ur master list for stevie tonight and read literally every single one and i am obsessed!! absolutely love your work so much. two questions. 1. could i be added to ur tag list? and 2. could u write a steve fic? one where u have nightmares and he comforts you?? thanks a million in advance <333

i threw in a nod to my own fic "i've got you" about comforting steve when he has nightmares hehe, enjoy! | 0.9k, fem!reader, fluff after a nightmare

The actual nightmare always has the same basic things: you're watching, sometimes from above and sometimes in your body, but it always happens right in front of you like you're meant to see it. Like it's your fault. You've seen it happen hundreds of times, each just as horrific as the last, and every time he takes his last breath with your name on his lips. Every time, Steve dies.

You've told him as much, though you can never choke out exactly what you see. That part mostly fades if you let it. But that doesn't stop you waking with the feeling that there's a hole in your chest, the sensation that something vital is missing and you'll never be able to get it back. When Steve isn't with you, you have to call him though you hate to bother him. It makes you feel needy, but he tells you to do it. Begs you to call him rather than stare at the ceiling all night and spiral. He always answers, sleepy but ready to talk to you for however long you want or even come over at a moment's notice.

But tonight is a lucky night -- well, not lucky. Ideally you'd stop having these horrible nightmares, but at least tonight he's here. It's easier when he's next to you.

You wake like you've trained yourself to: quietly and without much fuss. You used to scream a lot. But now you're used to how you can just open your eyes and you're out of the worst thing you've ever seen and back to reality. There's a cold sheen of sweat on your brow and tear tracks on your cheeks. You take a few deep breaths, fisting your hands in the sheets as you calm down. The images are already fading but the ache pulses in your chest like a jagged wound. You turn to look at Steve.

He breathes softly in the dark, face smushes against the pillow and angled towards you and you try to match his inhales. He looks younger this way, untroubled and soft. You know his back betrays the violence he's seen, scars that'll never fade on the outside, nevermind the ones on the inside. But his face is boyish and ever so pretty. You could look at him forever. He scrunches his nose as if he can feel your staring and your mouth turns up at one end. It is impossible to look at him and feel anything other than love.

"You okay?" he says, startling you. His eyes blink open slowly, squinting to see you in the dark even though you're so close.

"Nightmare," you whisper. Your throat is dry. "Sorry baby. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Y'didn't," he says. "No sorrys." He yawns in your face and doesn't look at all bothered about it when you tut at him.

"Same one?" he asks. You nod. "Baby," he frowns. His voice is thick with sleep but it curls around the word and holds it like something precious, like something loved. "C'mere." You scoot into him, his arm circling your back as he turns you both with a little grunt so you're fully on his chest. Your legs tangle, one thigh bracketed with his as he buries a hand in your hair. You press your ear to his bare chest, seeking out his heartbeat until you find it. Steady, solid, there. Steve.

"Still breathing fast, sweetheart," he says. "Match me." He takes an exaggerated inhale that makes your body rise before exhaling slowly. You work to calm down until you're in sync.

"Easier when you're here," you tell him. "Can tell myself right away that it wasn't real. That you're not --" your voice breaks. Steve gently shushes you.

"M'okay," he says sleepily. "Do you want to talk for a bit? 'Bout something else?" When Steve has nightmares he likes to hear your voice, likes you to tell him about things that make you happy. Sometimes you want the same, need to hear his rasp in your ear until you fall asleep. But tonight you're content to hold him.

"Nah," you reply. "This is enough."

"How 'bout a kiss? I could use one," he says. "Real lonely up here." You part from his heartbeat to look up at him. He's smiling down at you lazily, eyes clouded with the late hour. It's an impossible angle to look good from but Steve manages. You shift up so you're nose to nose and you take an extra second to just look at him, hovering in the dark.

"There you are," he says. "Pretty." You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and he whines. One hand comes up to your face to guide your lips to his properly. It's sloppy, sleepy, and perfect. He kisses you once, twice, three times before releasing you, thumb trailing over your bottom lip to your cheekbone.

"Think you can sleep again, bub?" he asks before yawning again, making you yawn too.

"Let's try." You tuck your face into his neck and rest a hand back on his heart. "I love you, Steve."

"M'here," he says, hand stroking up and down your back. "Love you, too. Not going anywhere."

tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete

want to be added to my tag list? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both! reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

[chicagocal]

[mypoisonedvine]

hey my love, forever obsessed with everything u write x

u said something about potential tom ideas, it’s probs a short one, but i would LUV for u to write something similar to his first scene, where he comes in and greets (😦) ruth, but potentially an extended ahem version with y/n.

feel free to ignore if it’s not doing anything for u x

have a good day!

warnings: smut (18+ only), housewife kink, slight pain kink, some biting, touch of cornish, mostly just wholesomeness

"Can't believe you're really 'ere," he beamed, jumping on you in a tight hug. You giggled and managed to get your arms out to hug him back. "Stole me jumper?" he noticed with a grin as he lifted the hood behind your head.

"S'my favorite," you reminded him. "Smells like you."

"Well, yeah," he laughed, "so do I! So show me some love, eh?"

Grinning, you pulled back and gave him a kiss-- just one, a chaste peck at first, until you went in again and he held onto your face, keeping you close and kissing you harder. You hummed into it, moving your lips in time with his-- it was still just a sweet kiss, but deeper and slower, and you hold onto his shoulders a little tighter.

"Missed ya so much," he mumbled against you, and you hummed back again. "Y'miss me too?"

You just nodded, not nearly as coherent as him as you drank in the feeling-- it was almost surreal, after being apart for months, to have him pressed up to you now, to hear his voice not through the phone, to see his face in person and not just in silly pictures or facetime calls.

"How much?" he wondered, and you could feel that sly grin on his lips. You smiled, too.

"A lot," you replied cryptically.

"That's it? Just a lot?" he teased, moving his hands down to your sides-- you giggled harder, feeling a little ticklish suddenly. "'Cause I missed you so much I thought I might lose my mind. You're not allowed to live that far away anymore."

"What?" you laughed.

"I decided it, just now," he announced, sticking his chin out, and you pushed him on the chest.

"Shut up, I have to live that far away for school."

"School? Psh," he dismissed, "don't need it. You can just stay with me here and I'll take care'a you."

He was just joking, but you found yourself biting your lip. And he saw it, too, and smirked as he looked down at your face.

"Y'like the sound of that, eh?" he noticed.

"A little bit," you admitted, shivering as you felt his fingers creep around your waist to your back, pulling you into him as he pressed against you.

"Me too," he mumbled. "You can stay here and just do whatever you like all day while I'm workin', wait for me to come home. Sounds kinda nice, yeah? Y'can do whatever you want... as long as you take care of me when I get back."

"Take care of you?" you repeated, sighing softly as he kissed beside your ear.

"Yeah," he said, and something so simple shouldn't have had an effect on you, but he breathed right against your skin and fuck, it just felt nice-- it made a pleasant chill jump up your spine, which in turn made your back in his arms. "Like a good li'l wifey."

You whimpered, and he grinned as he pushed you back onto the bed-- it was just one step from the door, one of the benefits of a trailer-- climbing on top of you with a mischievous grin.

"Wanna cook and clean for me, don't you?" he laughed, dipping down to kiss your neck, even biting you gently once. "Didn't know you were so traditional."

"Sh-shit, Tom, neither did I," you whimpered, spreading your legs to wrap them around his hips.

"Don't worry, m'gonna be so good to ya, love," he groaned, and you felt his hips rock forward-- you could feel that he was hard already, and you whined. "What kind of husband would I be if I didn't please my wife properly?"

Arching your back up off the bed, you felt his hands slide up under the borrowed hoodie-- his hands felt so damn good on you, and you sighed happily as he reached your tits and groped at them.

"Mm, pretty thing," he mumbled under his breath. "C'mon, let's get this off-- don't need to wear that anymore, m'here to take care of you now."

You lifted your arms and let him take it off over your head-- until it got stuck on your nose, and you whined as he kept tugging. "Hey-- hey!" you protested, slightly muffled by the fabric, and he stopped with a laugh.

"Sorry, love," he offered quietly, and though you couldn't see anything while trapped in the navy blue abyss of cotton-wool blend, you felt his lips against yours just under where the neckline had snagged on your face.

"Mm!" you hummed against him, one hand slipping around the back of his neck, "need to help me get outta this, Tom..."

"Fine," he relented, breaking away and gently lifting the neckline up off your face so you could get out-- and then you were topless, you hadn't even been wearing a bra anyways, and you felt sort of chilly but in a way you oddly enjoyed. "So pretty, love, lookat ya-- mm," he growled playfully.

He kissed you once, not nearly long enough, before sitting up and peeling his shirt off, giving you a proud smile as he descended again; he must've seen the way your eyes trailed over his toned, but lean, body, lingering for just a second on his necklace and the little trail of blonde hair that led from his bellybutton down into his shorts.

When he was on you again, his hands hooked into shorts and started to tug at them; you lifted your hips to make it easier to slide them down your thighs, and you shuddered with delight as you felt him take your panties down with them.

He moaned lowly as he looked at you, naked under him, waiting impatiently for more. "Your turn," you requested as you reached for his shorts, trying to push them down, but he helped you out and stayed propped up with one hand as he did his best to tug them down.

You bit your lip when his cock bounced out proudly, curling up against his abdomen, flushed at the thick head that you already needed inside you now. "Shouldn't I warm you up a little first, love?" he reminded you as you grabbed at his hips, trying to pull him closer.

You shook your head. "C'mon, jus' need you, please?"

"Okay, okay," he laughed, laying himself on top of you and kissing you again-- you whimpered as you felt him pressing his erection right up to you, daring to go inside, but still hesitating.

"Fuck, please!" you whined again, and he finally did it.

And, yeah, he was right, he probably should've warmed you up first-- you forgot that it had been a while since you'd been with him, and without owning a dildo or even a vibrator the biggest thing you'd had inside yourself for the past four months was two of your fingers. Those were nothing compared to him, he was so hard and thick, stretching you more than you expected; you whined, a sharp sting coupled with the pleasure of being filled, and he stopped. "Y'okay?" he panted, obviously affected by being inside you again after so long.

You nodded. "Yeah, just-- stings a little. You can keep going," you offered.

"I don't wanna hurt you," he explained, voice just louder than a whisper.

"You're not, I just have to get used to you again," you replied gently. "Please, don't stop..."

He pushed forward, giving you a few more inches of him, but it still wasn't everything-- and you were groaning through your teeth at the feeling. "Christ, you're so..." he sighed. "So fuckin' tight, god, swear m'not tryin' to hurt you... y'feel so good, please-- just a little more, you can take it, right? You've almost got it, love..."

You nodded, letting out a loud whine-- half pleasure, half pain-- as he filled you to the brim, and his hands held onto your hips tight as he tried to control himself.

"Missed you," he said again, "missed you, baby-- missed this so bad. You're so good for me, love, m'good wifey, huh?"

You whimpered and nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Y-yours, Tom," you choked.

"Please," he breathed, "can I move? Fuck, jus' need to move a little, need to fuck you, angel--"

You nodded again, and gasped as he slowly pulled his hips back and pushed back in. Already the discomfort was fading, it helped that you were so wet for him and that he was still being rather patient-- but you knew it was taking all the self control he had to be this gentle with you.

"So perfect," he mumbled against your skin as he kissed your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. "Perfect for me, all mine-- love you so much... m'little wife, yeah?"

"God, Tom," you whined, "you're so-- we never even talked about that before..."

"You know I wanna marry you," he whispered, moaning as he found his pace-- still not too fast, but gaining speed with each movement. "I know I told you that before."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you were serious," you replied, digging your fingers into his shoulders as his cock slid right over that spot every time. "We're too young, aren't we?"

"Who cares?" he mumbled, biting on your shoulder until you moaned louder. "If it's what we want. You want it, right?"

You nodded, and he purred.

"You wanna be my wifey, then? Wait for me here and help me... wind down, after a long day at work?" he prompted with a smirk that you felt as he kept sucking on your neck.

"Yes," you sighed.

"Good girl," he grunted, and you felt yourself clench on him.

You reached down between your body and his, finding your clit that was throbbing for attention and rubbing it quickly with two fingers.

"Mm," he hummed, "gonna play with yourself while I fuck you? S'cute, but you know it's my job to take care of you, love..."

He guided your hand away and moved your hips, holding your legs open with a tight grip on your thighs. You weren't sure what he was manhandling you around for (not that you minded), until he moved his hips again and the hard pressure of his pubic bone hit right on your clit and-- "Oh!" you gasped. "Fuck, Tom..."

"Mhm," he smiled, "I remember. Didn't forget how my girl likes it in just a few months apart. God, you're all I've been thinkin' about, really, trying to remember exactly how you come for me. Why don't you remind me, angel?"

He kept encouraging you until you did, which was not immediately after that of course-- but so soon that you were a little embarrassed at how easily you finished. Then again, it was Tom; he never made you feel embarrassed or self-conscious about anything, even when he was making fun of you, because he just had that sweet way about him and you were so comfortable.

"Fuck, love," he grunted, "so tight when you come on me-- shit, see what you did? Creamed on my cock, love, look..."

You couldn't actually see it, but you believed him, you could feel how wet you were-- it was dripping down onto his sheets, which would be annoying later, but you didn't even care.

"Don't think I can last," he admitted with a low grunt, "m'sorry, you just-- feels too good, been way too fuckin' long..."

"It's okay," you promised, "just come, Tom, I wan' you to."

"Fuck," he moaned, "say that again."

"I want you to come," you repeated.

He fucked you hard and fast, every ounce of rowdy, raunchy teenage hunger forced on you as he chased his release. You watched his face tilt back for a second, eyes shut and mouth slack and cheeks tinting a bit pink-- and that fucking necklace dangling over your face.

He whimpered a bit as he pulled out, instantly painting your stomach before he'd even gotten his hand around himself to finish off the job; you smiled and bit your lip as you felt his hot, sticky come land on your belly.

"Fuck," he sighed, dropping his head as he squeezed the last drop out. "Hold on, lemme clean you up--"

But you didn't let him leave, you grabbed him by the back of the neck and sat up to meet him halfway for a lazy, slow kiss; he smiled into it and held your face gently, tongue dancing on your lips as you moaned sleepily. "Mkay," you finally offered as you fell back onto the bed, "now you can get me a rag."

"Dreckly," he winked at you as he pulled his shorts back up and went searching for a washcloth for his wifey.

[eddies-ashtray]

eddie is practically hanging off of you, his arms wrapped around you from behind, dangling over your shoulders. one of your hands is being held by both of his near the centre of your chest.

it wasn’t a big get-together: just you and eddie, most of the hellfire guys, steve, nancy, and robin. though you’re sure a larger crowd of people wouldn’t have deterred eddie from any PDA when he had alcohol in his system.

though you’re in the middle of a conversation with robin, eddie begins to smack loud, ardent kisses against your cheek until robin feels she has no choice but to cut herself off to acknowledge it.

“-totally disregard the closed sign on the door and bang on it until steve gives in and let’s them in! sometimes they’re just so-okay, i can’t pretend that’s not happening right now, what the hell is he doing?”

eddie didn’t drink like this often; he liked a beer or two, but weed was more his speed. it seemed to slow him down, whereas alcohol tended to speed him up. which, considering eddie’s typical excitable pace, he really didn’t need the alcohol to become more sociable or friendly.

but tonight he’d probably had one too many; having far too much fun challenging steve and gareth to shotgunning contests. you weren’t sure how he kept it down if you’re honest.

you smush your hand over eddie’s face to push him away gently, his nose squishing against your palm. he whines lightly against your hand, disgruntled that you’d interrupted his kisses.

“he’s just-”

eddie redirects his kisses to your hand now.

“-just a bit tipsy, is all.”

Keep reading

[familyvideostevie]

crystal clear

Steve has been keeping something from you but it's not what you expect | 1.2k, fluff, fem!reader, thank you to ace for encouraging me on this one! one of my fave headcanons is steve needing glasses, so here we are.

"Christ," Steve mutters, pacing around his room. He keeps picking up things and putting them down, running his hands through his hair. "Shit." You sit on his bed, waiting for him to tell you what's wrong.

"Baby," he says, reluctantly, "have you seen my glasses?" He's not looking at you as he says it, so he can't see your eyebrows shoot up.

"I'm sorry, your what?"

"Are your ears clogged or something?" he says lightly. As if he could stop you from asking questions.

"Steve," you say, getting off the bed and walking to where he stands searching his desk. "Your what?" He sighs and finally looks at you, wrinkling his nose.

"Don't be mean," he groans. "My glasses. I'm getting a headache, should put 'em on." He rubs a hand down his face and you can see the tension in his jaw.

"You are impossible," you chide. You brush your fingers over his temple as if you could take whatever pain he's feeling from him. "Let me help look. But you have to tell me what I'm looking for since I've never seen them before." You flick his nose gently. He rolls his eyes at you but smiles and leans down to press a quick kiss to your mouth.

"Brown leather case," he says. "Check the car, maybe? Keys are in my pocket." You dip your fingers into the back of his jeans, palm unnecessarily spread as you maintain eye contact. His cheek twitches and he fights a smirk as you make a show of digging for the keys before pulling them out and twirling them around your thumb.

"Handsy," Steve says. "Eyes on the prize, baby. Get it?"

"You're hilarious, Harrington," you deadpan before heading downstairs to his car. His pain can't be that bad if he's still making horrible puns, but you want to keep it that way. The BMW sits in the drive and you pull open the driver's side door and look around the interior. Scuff marks from your shoes, a soda stain from Dustin that you took the blame for, one of Robin's hair clips. You bend a little to get closer to the mats and that's when you see it: a brown leather case trapped under the passenger seat. You fish it out and pop it open to find a simple pair of silver wire frames, one lens thicker than the other. Steve often tells you that his brains have been so scrambled he could be on a diner menu, but you really didn't know it had affected his vision. Sometimes he gets headaches, sure, but usually he just calls you and you lie in the dark with him, stroking his hair.

"Found 'em!" you call as you go back into the house. "They were under the seat." Steve is leaning against the kitchen counter, clearly having decided you'd be successful.

"Should've known. I've been wearing them when I drive at night." He reaches for the case but you swat his hand away and step into his space. You remove the frames from the case carefully and reach up to perch them on his face. He holds very still, mouth turned up at the corner.

"Oh god," you say once they're on. Your palms rest on his chest. "Christ." Steve looks worried for a second, hands coming to rest on your hips, fingers a little tight over your shirt.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You are unbelievable," you scold, making sure to keep it light and teasing. "It's so unfair how glasses only make you look hotter."

Steve groans, throwing his head back and shaking it a little before laughing. His hands loosen and his thumbs sneak under your hem to rub warm circles on your bare skin.

"You think so?"

"Don't be modest, Steve. You have to know that this whole thing --" you wave your hand over him -- "is just..it's...I'm blushing just looking at you!"

"Okay, okay, I get it," he says. Despite his reputation and his history, Steve takes compliments like a kid taking cold medicine. He pulls one hand off of you to run it through his hair and you have to fight to keep an embarrassing noise in your throat, moving your fingers to his belt loops instead.

"What didn't you tell me about them?" you wonder out loud. You're not mad, you just want to understand.

"Honestly, I forgot," he shrugs, cheeks pink. "I swear. I've only had them a week and I keep losing them."

"Do you need to wear them all the time?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. His free hand comes back to toy with a strand of your hair. "I should. When I'm driving or at work or reading...not that I do much of that. But if I do it without them I'll get a headache." He sighs. "Been knocked around one time too many, I guess."

You frown at the reminder of Steve's pain, of all the things he's suffered through because he's brave and kind and good.

"We should get another pair so you have two, just in case. I'll carry one around." The pretty flush spreads down his cheeks to his neck.

"Really? You'd want to?"

"Course, Steve. Gotta keep that pretty head of yours good and healthy." You poke him on the forehead. The glasses make his eyes impossibly big, and they are warmer than usual, so mesmerizing you don't know how you're going to deal with this every day. He blows a raspberry at your staring before taking the frames off and setting them on the counter.

"Hey, you just said you need to wear those --" He presses one hand into the small of your back to bring you even closer before hovering his lips over yours. You always keep your eyes open as long as you can before Steve kisses you because every second you get to look at him feels special, feels like you have to savor it. But your lids flutter close as he slots his mouth over yours and that sound you tampered down before finally escapes. He smiles when he hears it, nose brushing yours as he makes sure to kiss you thoroughly. Perhaps too thoroughly for his parent's kitchen in the middle of the day, but you'd never complain. He releases you and you're a little dazed as he puts his glasses back on, looking entirely too pleased.

"Do things look different?" you ask before wincing at how stupid it sounds. It's his fault anyway -- your brain is fuzzy from his closeness, even still.

"A little," he replies. His smile is soft, lips pink and pupils blown. He brings his thumb up to brush across your own swollen lower lip. "Helps with this eye." He gestures to the one that's been blackened almost too many times to count.

"Do I look different?" This question is softer, a little more serious. He studies you for a second, tilting your head left then right, pretending to think on it. His gaze travels across your brow and down your cheeks, documenting every hair and freckle and mark as if he didn't already have them memorized.

"Nope," he says finally. "Always been able to see you clearly, baby." You flush to the tips of your ears, your chest a warm mess of fondness and love.

"Still pretty as ever, too," he adds. "Seriously, every day I look at you and think, how is this even allowed?" You wrinkle your nose at him before resting your head on his chest, his arms coming around you. He laughs, just happy to have this moment with you, and you can feel it, his heartbeat strong in your ear. I am so lucky, you think. Steve is thinking the same thing.

tags: @spideyboipete @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee

want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both!

reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

[fairyverse-deactivated20230711]

!! thinking about visiting steve at family video !!

he’s behind the counter and robin is a few feet away rearranging tapes, steve’s smile is so big and bright when you first walk in and whenever he sees you really and he waits while you say hi to robin, kisses your hand once you stop across from him at the counter. you catch up for a few minutes but he can tell something is on your mind.

now, you’re always too shy for pda, but you keep staring at his lips with this glassy look and you can’t help it, okay? steve’s pretty. his lips are pretty.

after he rings a customer’s tapes you can’t help it, “stevie?” / “uhm?” he looks up as you don’t reply and notice you looking around to make sure no one is watching and “hey, eyes on me, pretty.” he grips your chin softly to keep your eyes on his and you pout “wanna kiss 🥺” and this motherfucker just grins widely, grips your hand, and starts walking to the back room. “where you think you’re going?” / “gonna give my girl some kisses, robs. watch the desk.” i—

[luveline]

shy reader x eddie smut, maybe not their first time? like eddie telling reader "you're always so shy, baby, lemme see you", or maybe eddie convincing reader to be a little more talkative in bed + inadvertently making eddie realise he has a praise kink hehe

tysm for ur request CW WEED MENT + SMUT 18+ ONLY ♡ shy!fem!reader | 0.6k

Even home alone you whisper in bed like everything is a secret. Eddie's lucky if your voice passes a meagre thirty decibels, and lucky is the right word. You make this little gasping sound and it's enough to have him squirming, but when you moan? 

Fuck, Eddie's a total goner. 

"Talk to me, sweetheart," he murmurs pleadingly. 

And it's brilliant – you're in his lap, his lap, and your hands are trembling but deliberate as you run them over his chest. You stop with your fingers poised at his waist. 

"Hi," you say. 

"Hi," he says back, grinning.

He rolls his hips and your panties brush over his naked dick, the dampened silk a sick sweet torture. "Where'd you go just now?" 

"Nowhere. Nowhere," you repeat, leaning in.

He hits under your chin with his knuckle to lift your head high. There's a glassy quality to your eyes. Your mascara is smudged. 

"You're always so shy, baby. Lemme see you." 

You keep your head high but close your eyes, overwhelmed by his soft chiding. Eddie takes in your every feature, every fine hair and tiny pore, every little wrinkle. 

"You look… so fucking pretty." 

"Stop," you murmur, smiling. 

Eddie runs his hands up to your chest and under your t-shirt, catching your nipple between his index and middle finger as he squeezes your breast. Your breath catches and your hips stutter and he thinks, Fuck, if I could play that back. 

He brings both of his hands to the small of your back and feels the naked flesh there greedily. Your hands search for something to grab in turn, your arms crushing his dark curls against his neck as you move in and hug him. 

Friction everywhere. He looks up at you with his chin digging into your chest, eyes wide and waiting for you to look down. 

"You know we're alone, don't you?" 

Your poorly constrained bliss turns to confusion. "Yeah, Eds." 

"Nobody here. Just me and you. Make some sounds for me, yeah?" He grinds up into you and you sigh happily. "Just like that. Just like that." His voice goes weak. 

You duck your face into the side of his, your cheek to his cheek, your breathing amplified so close to his ear. Every intake of breath, every quiver sets his nerves on fire. 

"You're fucking perfect. Fucking perfect. Need you to make some pretty sounds just like that, okay?" he asks, hand moving down to where your cunt warms his cock. 

"Yeah, okay," you pant. 

He pulls your panties to the side and takes his aching cock into his hand, smearing precum over the soft bead of your clit. You smother a moan and he raises his eyebrows. 

"Please?" he asks. 

You nod very slowly. When he rubs up against your clit again, you moan. 

"Fuck." He drags out the word. His heart is racing in his chest and his cock is practically sobbing precum. He can't help but tug at the shaft erratically. A rivulet of sweat drips down the back of his neck. 

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have me fucking creaming in my hand." 

You giggle and spread your thighs wide over his. He takes it for what it is and grabs your hip cruelly. "Ready?" he asks. 

You nibble your lip and nod shyly. 

Eddie gives it one last stab, massaging your flesh where it burns under his hands. 

"You know, you have such a nice voice. When you're sitting in the passenger seat all toked up and pretty, and you sing along, shy and sweet…" He brings a hand to your cheek and squeezes, your eyes creased with insecurity slowly waning. "You think you can do that for me now? Sing me something pretty?" 

You inhale hard, your chest moving erotically. "Yeah." 

"Good girl." 

[indouloureux]

ok but soft and slow i care abt u so fucking much sex in a cozy cabin u and eddie rented for ur honeymoon idk :ugly crying:

no bc

the cabin's far from the town. where everything was peaceful and quiet with the soft rustling of the trees and the enthusiastic chirping of birds in the early morning — something that you and eddie have always wanted your whole lives, after all that monster slaying and near death experiences.

there's a feeling of unfathomable incredulity swarming your heart that you're in this reposeful state with the man that you love the most, despite staying temporarily in this haven with matching rings and equanimities of your shared futures.

and now you get to rest in that serenity with him; but even in this cursed world, that silence didn't last.

not when you're beneath him, clothes thrown to the ground. back arched against the clean sheets of the rented cabin you and eddie found for your honeymoon. the scent of residue bacon and cigarettes commix with your shared sweat and dripping arousals. the silence broken by your soft moans and eddie's deep grunts as he's thrusting into you.

his thick cock splits your tight hole open, navels so close to each other, the dark tush of curls below brushing your swollen clit that's sensitive from all his rubbing. your arms link around his back, painting his opalescent back with reddish stripes from your scratching.

"i- fuck," your head throws back when eddie nudges your jawline with his nose, his greedy lips kissing and biting at your neck. "baby,"

"i know, honey," eddie whispers against you, his huffs leaving hot breaths against your skin. "feels good, hm?"

"yes, oh- yes," lifting your head, you nestle your nose to his cheek, pushing his hair back and tangling your fingers in his curls. "feels so amazing, eds."

eddie sighs against you, feeling himself float into the clouds with the way your walls squeeze around his shaft. and fuck, when he leans back up to look at you, he does feel like he's in heaven itself — having the most beautiful angel beneath him, being corrupted by his sinful deed, taking him in all his freakish glory.

his eyes trace the slope of your nose and the deep creases of pleasure on your forehead, the way your lips part into a soft 'o' as sweat coats the skin above your cupid's bow. lips so soft and pretty and nefariously debauched that it lures him in to place his own onto yours, open mouthed and hot as he consumes you.

you moan against him, heels digging on his back to drive him deeper. eddie kisses your nose, the bridge of it, your cheeks and your dried tears, before he lets them dwell in your forehead.

"god, i can't believe you're mine," his eyes glint. "like, legally mine."

"i've always been yours, eddie," you take his face into your hands, thumbs rubbing his flushed cheeks.

your hearts beat against each other. chests close and bound into a forever promise. eddie looks at you like you're the sun appearing behind his eclipse, giving his dull life the ultraviolet shine your smile bequeaths; he sees you like you're the angel that saves him from the slaughtering fires that have been burning him since he was young.

because like the first time, you see him. eddie munson. not the freak, not the banished, not the cult leader. eddie munson. who has nothing to offer but his heart to build you up and to keep you safe.

(and his cum too. because, he's close)

"i'm close, sweetheart," his hand slithers between you two, rubbing your clit. his cock drives deeper, till you felt like he's in your throat. eddie gives you one hard thrust, one that makes you mewl and startles the birds away. "cum for me honey, come on— s-shit. i love you."

"i love you," you repeat. not too, not more, not most. i love you, and you do.

i made it into a blurb im sorry :D

[indouloureux]

alright, that's fair. so angst with a happy ending, they're good friends, she likes him, there's rumours about him with another woman, she's upset and keeping distance, him trying to figure out what's wrong, something like this if possible?

you know, i was actually thinking about this! thank you for requesting <3

— hurt/comfort, very very slight angst (i'm sorry), two idiots in love, unknown mutual pining, cliche confession while in an argument

it hurts you to ignore him this way.

he's your friend.

best friend. for god knows how long.

and best friends are supposed to be there for each other. to help, and support, and care for one another when no one does. it's the principle — and you shouldn't want for more.

(you shouldn't want to hold his hand when you'd walk side by side. you shouldn't want to push the stranded curls off his forehead and stare deep into the umber of his eyes until everything dissipates and you're both left floating into this void; you shouldn't want to kiss him suddenly when he smiles. and you definitely shouldn't want to wake up beside him every morning and tell him that you love him.)

the thing is, they're normalized now. everyone does it when they know everything remains platonic. but you don't want to hurt yourself that way knowing he didn't feel the same. you couldn't bear the heartbreak.

so when you dawned upon that realization, or maybe when you've come to terms with the fact that the devil on your shoulder was right—that you're in love with him—you'd gone insane. your mind filled to the brim with possibilities of what might happen if you told him the truth. and each one increased the anxiety in your chest even more.

you tried to act like everything was okay. you acted normal around him. you talked like you used to. hung out like you used to. joseph would hang an arm around your shoulders, rub his knuckle on your hair and laugh with you like i used to.

up until last week.

the picture of him with some girl on brainrot social media and articles. joseph with a smile so bright it's familiar, and you realize that he'd only smile that way when he's with you. and god, he's laughing with a girl. a pretty girl; it's mind fucking to be hurt this way by just staring at an un consented image.

you drowned in unreasonable jealousy. because why should you be jealous if he's not yours? why should you be jealous in the first place? you fool yourself. you're only jealous because he didn't spend time with you, not because he was with some girl.

some girl.

some pretty girl.

and while you wallow in self-pity, you ignore him. for both your sakes. before you do something that could ruin everything.

joseph does his nightly texts — hey! how are you? and you'd respond curtly than go on a long rant. obviously he'd wonder what's wrong, but he'd let it go on the first night.

hey, what's up?

hey can we talk?

hey i miss you :(

until three nights later when you flat out ignored him and it had gotten to the point he started texting your friends. and the same reason was used: you're busy. you're asleep. your phone died. you're out of town for work.

you're in love with him and got stupidly jealous at the sight of him with another woman.

so it brings him here.

a week later, outside your door with nothing but questions formed from his confusion and frustration. joseph knows you're by the door looking through the peephole by your shadow beneath the minuscule gap beneath the door. you see him sigh heavily, holding back an eyeroll.

"i know you're there, (y/n),"

"fuck," you whisper, standing back on your heels and let your hands fall and raise between your side and the doorknob.

"just— let me in, please? i just want to talk." you hear him sigh faintly. "please?"

you take a huge deep of breath, hand shaking as you twist the doorknob. you're first greeted by the cold air from the hallways, before your eyes land on joseph's hunched figure. covered solely in a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt, his chain hung on his neck.

"hey," he exhales, relieved. "thank god you're alive. thought someone might have kidnapped you and pushed you off a cliff."

you frown. "well, that's specific."

joseph comes in when you step aside to make way. he removes his shoes, placing it beside the door as he wipes his feet on the mat. "i was worried." he says. "until i saw you hanging out with our friends while you were ignoring my texts."

it's amusing how quick his tone changed, almost as if he hadn't been worried in the first place as he quickly returns to being irritated by your ignorance. you shrug. "i- i was busy."

"busy with what?" despite the irritation, his voice remains soft, his patience speaking for him.

"work," you laugh a little, tone pitched as you hand waves in the air. "i was busy with work. and- and catching up with others. that's all." joseph furrows his eyebrows. "sorry if i ignored your texts. i'm...i'm sorry."

"that's okay," he murmurs. "just wished you would have told me. i thought that i might have done something to make you hate me. i was worried. felt like i was going to explode."

he's only saying that because he's my friend. best friend.

"sorry," you say again. "just got caught up with things,"

"yeah with partying," it's obvious that he's bitter. and somehow, it pisses you off that he's pissed off for being ghosted. "didn't even bother to invite me,"

you scoff, turning around. "why would i invite you if you're with some girl?"

it was a sarcastic remark, your mouth speaking before you could think. your voice meant to fool him into thinking that it meant nothing. but joseph knows what's up—especially with the strain in your voice as you said the last word that was followed by a sardonic chuckle. his face falls, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

"what are you talking about?"

you clear your throat, scratching your forehead. "i dunno. it's social media, jo. one day you're in a famous show and the next people with cameras follow you around."

joseph frowns. "what?"

"come on," you spin around to face him again, laughing incredulously at him. "people saw you with a girl. who you've been with for the past week. so why would i invite you?"

"because i'm your friend!"

"you were with some girl!"

"that doesn't even make any sense!"

his voice raises, but not loud enough that it hurts your ears. your face wrinkles, throat swallowing your words that the only thing that leaves your mouth are defensive scoffs as your hand drops to your side, turning back around to walk somewhere. "you- you were busy."

"bullshit—hey! oi," joseph pivots his way in front of you, blocking your way to your bedroom, hands on either side of the doorframe as he hovers over you. "don't lie to me, (y/n). look- if i did something that hurt you, or made you pull away from me, just tell me. please?"

he's desperate now, affliction in his plea. a heavy rock rises to your throat, hands to a fist on your sides. joseph's eyebrows raise, leaning down slightly as if to encourage you to speak. confined with the difficulty to choose between the truth or not, and you sigh heavily.

"you did nothing, okay?" you shrug his hands off, your index finger picking at the skin beside your thumbnail. "everything's fine. it's my fault. "

"then talk to me," he adjures, his hands clueless as to where it should be. "please? if—if you want some space for whatever it is that happened, fine. just tell me, and i'll give you that space."

his patience makes your heart ache, because you feel guilty for lying to the man so tolerant and understanding — has been since you were teens. and you hear the desperation in his voice. loud and sad as it yearns for your truth to feed his clueless mind, worried of the wrong he didn't do. you look away from joseph, at the wall where you trace its small bumps, and you huff.

"it was because of the girl,"

joseph's back straightens, his bottom lip jutting out slightly as his eyebrows return to its place. and suddenly he's perplexed. "oh. why?"

"i—"

"do you not want me to hang around her?" he asks. "are you jealous that i spent the week with her...?"

"no! no, i don't want to be telling you who you should hang out with. and no, why would i be jealous?" the white face paint's beneath the sink, and there's a red wig in your closet, 'cause you look like a fucking clown.

joseph scoffs. "then what is it?"

"god, okay, maybe i was a little jealous," you quip, throwing your hands in the air. "maybe- maybe i got upset that my best friend's with another girl. but not because she's taking up his time, but because she's pretty! pretty enough that i'm jealous of you? no, but could be 'cause she is hot. but yes, i could be if i didn't like—"

you pause, your brain telling you you've been talking too much, because joseph's got his head ducked and eyebrows raised to listen. and if you looked closely, he's lips are twitched up slightly in bemusement. you close your mouth, glaring at him.

"if you didn't like?" he smirks. "you like someone."

"no i don't."

"yes you do."

"what makes you say that?"

"you said it."

"like can mean anything. i mean, i like your mom because she's nice. i like you because you're my friend. like doesn't mean like like, because i like anyone. and liking anyone doesn't mean i like like them."

"what?"

"fuck!" there's a boulder in your throat, hard and prevents the air from slipping through. you don't find his amusement entertaining, and you're trying to swallow that rock down your throat while he's looking at you like that.

— all innocent and happy, eyes wide as they stare at you like, like you're important.

like he's in love with you.

he's not.

joseph's smile falls, noticing the tears at your waterline that makes your eyes all glossy. "hey. what's wrong? is it something i said?"

"no," you push him aside, stepping into your room and sitting on the bed right in the middle. "it's not your fault. it's never been your fault," the heel of your palms are pressed against your eyes. you hear him shuffle until you feel him kneeling in front of you, gentle hands wrapping around your wrists.

"then what is it?"

you whimper. and when he tugs your hands off your eyes and replaces it with his own thumbs, letting your fat tears wet his calloused skin, it makes your heart hurt even more, with the fact that he's so gentle and caring.

"i like you,"

three words. something he's heard before but not in the way that he thinks. "yeah, i know, bub. i like you too."

"no, jo," you close your eyes, nails lightly scratching at the bracelet on his left wrist. "i like you."

there's a soft sigh that leaves him that begins the silence between the two of you. the way his hand stays on your face but weakens in the slightest; the way his eyes narrow in anxiousness as they waited for your confession. you mistake this his silence as disgust — that you'd liked your best friend as something more. and you wonder what would have happened if you told him that you loved him.

you didn't have to. because you spoke again. "i...love you."

it's what makes him fully remove his hands on your face, feeling the burn his touch left behind (or maybe it was just the sudden sweat on his palms). he sits down on the carpet, cross legged, a soft thump of denim to wool. joseph breaks his eyes away from you to look at your knees in a quiet state of shock. his lips parted in the slightest.

"oh..."

"you know what," you sniffle, licking your lips as you stand up, wiping your tears with the side of your hand. "i'm just gonna go."

joseph, who's still processing everything, looks up at you. "you live here."

"i didn't say i was gonna leave for good, dumbass—"

you're startled with the sudden feeling of his lips on yours, befuddled with his speed from sitting to standing. joseph holds your face in his hands, flesh rough but touch gentle as he keeps you close to him. and your eyes are open, sense of touch heightened that you can feel every fibre of him as he presses his mouth harder against yours that it renders your eyes shut and your hands on the softness of his hair.

his mouth opens to part yours, his breath fanning on your face and some into your mouth, his forehead resting against yours. joseph's thumbs drag across the dark circles beneath your eyes, his eyebrows furrowing before he lets out a chuckle.

"i'm sorry," he murmurs. "i just kissed you,"

you open your eyes. "it's alright,"

your hand drags from his shoulder to his chest, watching as he slowly looks at you. honey eyes bright with glee, a ring of doting arousal on the corner of his irises. joseph angles your face back, neck straining slightly so he'd get a better view of you. "i like, well, i love you too."

he chuckles when a slow smile comes to your face. "really?"

"fuck yeah, bubs," he wrinkles his nose. "i've loved you since you kicked that asshole's bum for breaking my glasses when we were twelve. how could i not love you?"

before you answer, he kisses you again, a deep inhalation of your scent as his nose dig on your face. his lips are soft, cherry; cigarettes, hot and feverish when they move with yours and break in a soft click.

"you're amazing," he murmurs. "beautiful," a kiss, "smart," another, "unfathomably lovely," and a last. "i love you. that girl you saw? she's just a friend, lovie. she's nothing compared to you."

you shake your head, laughing. "christ in hell, jo."

"i love you," he repeats. "yeah? i'd post it on instagram or whatever. i love you."

"i get it, babe—"

"i love you."

"i know," you kiss his nose. "i love you too."

something i'm a smidge proud of bc im jealous

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

[indouloureux]

Heyy

Can you write a joe quinn x reader where they just got married and are like still in their honeymoon phase by making alot of love? :)

aaaa okay okay thank you for requesting! &lt;3

18+ mdni — unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), overstimulation,

the entire room is trashed — bed frame broken, its leg from the upper right taped back into place. the sheets unmade and half of it draped to the ground. your clothes, with the suitcase left open, can be seen everywhere; there's even a shirt at the balcony that's almost ripped in half had he not grabbed your hands.

the faucet in the shower's leaking now. the glass door foggy with the faint touch of handprints seen. there's picture frames along the walls tilted and some thrown to the ground. the feathers on the pillows scattered across the living room, and there's an unfinished bottle of champagne in the kitchen island that's toppled over with a small puddle right at its lips.

but that's not what you care about right now.

no, it's the way your back's splayed out the couch, a leg on the floor and a leg resting on the back of the sofa, spread widely by your husband's large hands. you can feel the coldness of the gold ring on his finger sinking deep onto your thigh as he delves his head between your legs, licking a stripe up from your hole to your clit with this loud and lewd noise.

you moan, hands darting through his hair that's barely been combed, having been tugged and pulled for the last five days. his lips are wrapped loosely around your clit, fingers wasting no time to fuck your gaping hole. "fuck," he groans against you. "how are you still so wet?"

whimpering, you buck your cunt against his face. bottom half slick with streaks of your cum from earlier that coats the early morning shadow of his chin. there's an addicting squelching sound that emits from your sopping hole when he fucks his fingers in knuckle deep, curling and tracing your gummy walls to memorize it.

"i don't know," you pant absentmindedly, your neck craned back as your eyes slam shut. "i don't fucking know. i'm always wet when i'm—fuck!"

he's suckling at your swelling clit like he's starving, like it's his coffee in the mornings or tea in the rainstorms. you can see joseph humping the couch's side, the sole of your foot pushing into his back to entice him further.

you adore the sensation of a tortuous coil curling beneath your stomach. he slips three fingers, swift and unfettered, until your insides sensitively ache from the way his skin rubs and rubs against your walls, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He's grunting, muffled, against you. You push him away with your hand on his forehead, arching your back to grab his arms.

"stop, stop," you pant, scratching on his back. "inside, please. i'm really hungry."

joseph smirks. "oh i know you're hungry—"

"for food," you kick his thigh. "it's seven in the morning. get on with it."

he does—a quick push and he's filled you to the brim like the previous nights. he's fast, almost unforgiving, with the way your skin slaps against each other like a standing ovation, despite him being as hungry as you are. it takes less than five minutes for him to be cumming inside you again; so profound, flooding you to the fullest, that as he pulls away in a wet slosh, it's leaking out.

the bottom half of his body is slick, a glint on his happy trail as the sun creeps up the balcony to give him this amber glow; in that sybaritic hunger, he's leaning down to press a kiss or two on your lips. hands on the exposed flesh of your waist, his ring cold and singing against your skin as he kisses you, your own ring dragging across the slope of his back to press him close against you.

in the soft clicking sound of severance between your plump lips, he smiles down at you, hands caressing your slick hair. "what do you want for breakfast?"

he helps you sit up, your rings aligned as he laces your hands together and sits you up on his lap, bending down on the ground to pick up your underwear and your shorts. "sausages," you mutter, hands on his shoulders.

joseph snorts. "you just had one,"

when he lifts your foot to slip your panties in, you playfully knee his chin. "i meant the real ones. yours doesn't even taste as good."

incredulous at your supposed insult, he gawps at you as he slowly slips your underwear up. "you ungrateful vixen."

"i'm kidding, hun," you kiss his cheek, feeling his fingertips caress your waistline.

(he does end up cooking you sausages anyway. four of them, and another one in your mouth that's slightly bigger with a salty twang. but you don't mind.)

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated <3

[indouloureux]

i’ve never seen any works or blurbs about drunk or high eddie :(( he’d be so clingy and worked up mghhfhdhdfff begging you to take care of the rock hard boner he just popped in the middle of the party

shkshsks okay okay

18+ mdni — handjob bc drunk eddie (consented but reader is still wary since, yknow, he's drunk), minimal sex talk lol, slight mommy kink bc eddie only says "mama" twice, cum eating

"babe,"

drawled vowels said into a drunken slur, eddie slumps his entire body on your back. you yelp, drink almost spilling on your shirt, turning around to see his face all crimson from the alcohol and hair all slick from the heat between the bodies of horny teens. you place the cup aside, taking his face into your hands.

"eddie," you yell a little, lifting his head up. "what happened, baby?"

"look," he takes your hand off his head, shoving it down his crotch. your face widens, cheeks flaring because he's basically letting you fondle him in public. eddie's pressing your palm right on the bulge on his trousers, his gaze on yours half-lidded and glossy. "i've got a boner."

"i can feel it," you snort. "want some help? you're drunk, eddie."

"i consent!" he shouts. "i always consent to you. sober eddie says yes. drunk eddie," his voice lowers, leaning to whisper in your ear. "always says yes."

you take his hand. "alright. but it's gonna be quick honey, okay?"

you know he doesn't care, especially when all he does is grumble as a smirk comes up to his face, stumbling between the suffocating crowd as you pull him to the nearest (and vacant) bathroom nearby.

the door closes loudly, music muffled and your ears relaxing from the blaring sounds of tone-deaf people. eddie rests his hip on the sink, watching you lock the door before you rest your back to the wall beside him.

"alright, eds," you straighten your back, shaking your hands. "pants off."

eddie giggles. "yes ma'am,"

you watch as he fumbles with the handcuffs on his belt, his hands swatting yours away when you try to help. and when he's done, he's pulling it down until it's pooled around his ankles, and he's spared himself the painful tightness when eddie brought his briefs with his jeans on the ground.

the swollen mushroom tip of his cock slaps on his clothed stomach, a bit of precum staining his shirt. you feel your mouth water, his shaft all veiny and hard, and eddie's smirking at your stupefied reaction.

"go crazy, mama," he juts his hips.

you do. with a quick lick to your palm, your hand wrapping around from the bottom of his base until it swipes up to gyrate around his head. eddie grunts, loud, but still unheard from the party outside. "fuck, eddie. what's got you so hard?"

eddie reaches his arms out to pull you close to him, hands squeezing your ass as he throws his head back to the cupboard mirror. "this ass." he growls. "you know i'm always horny, honey."

his chuckle swiftly turns into a moan when your hand moves fast, the slick sounds of your saliva and his precum echoing around the small bathroom. there's a hot pool between your legs, clit throbbing at the way his veins press against the heating flesh of your palm as your other hand comes to fondle with the heavy sack beneath, balls full of cum.

"god, if you weren't drunk right now, would've given you a blowie," you bite your lip, thumb swiping over the slit on his helmet. "maybe you could have fucked me from behind too."

"but i consent!"

you squeeze his shaft, making him whimper. "and you're drunk. 'drunk eddie' gets a handjob." you move your hand faster, smirking when he keeps on letting out low gasps and grunts. "don't tell me what to do, alright,"

"alright, babe," his eyes roll to the back of his head, and you can see how red the tip of his cock's turning. you twist and fuck fist into his length. "fuck. i'm close, mama. ngh— i'm gonna cum!"

you don't stop until white ropes of cum shoot out to his shirt, some to yours and most of it onto your hand. eddie mewls as it spurts out, hand unstopping until nothing comes out and all you've left to do is lick the cum off your hand.

eddie moans quietly when you take each finger into your mouth, sucking longer when you're cleaning your thumb. needy, he pries your hands away and kisses you, his tongue right in your open mouth.

alcohol, weed, and pizza (you think), mingling with the taste of his cum on your tongue. eddie sighs against you, nose deep beside yours as he cups your face into his mouth, drinking you like you've got what he needs inside his mouth.

he breaks away, panting, chuckling softly. "think i just got sober, honey."

eddie wraps his arm around you, the other massaging your waist as you reach behind to pull on the tissue paper and wipe your shirts. "still not giving you a blowjob, babe," you wipe on his shirt, him pressing a kiss to your temple. "now help me remove this, please? you've got jizz all over you."

[judeswhore]

Request - Steve jerks off to a photo of you 🫢😏

this is kinda hot ngl

18+, minors dni

steve's fist tightened around his cock, squeezed the tip with a soft grunt as his hips rose from the bed, meeting his hand on each slow stroke. his stomach clenched, chest heaving just slightly and it was becoming increasingly more difficult for him to keep his moans to himself. glazed over eyes met the polaroid picture gripped between the fingers of his free hand, just a seconds glance at it pulling a whimper deep from his throat, cock twitching in his palm.

the photo of you was down right filthy, dirty but oh so perfect and the sole reason that steve was fucking his own hand at three in the morning. the picture in question was probably one of the best he’d ever taken of you, sprawled completely naked on his bed, fingers twisted into the white sheets, legs up and wide so only your knees were really visible. your face was contorted in pleasure, plump lips parted and he swore he could hear your moans, his hips bucking pathetically towards his fist. your boobs were on full display, littered slightly with marks from his mouth, nipples hard and begging for attention. steve’s hand was pressed into your lower stomach, something that always drove you over the edge but his favourite part was the bottom of the photo. he’d just managed to capture his cock half inside of you, your pussy wrapped tight around his thick length, stretched to take him in and he glistened with your wetness, the area between your thighs already a sticky mess.

he’d taken it on the new camera you’d bought him during one of your not so innocent nights together and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since, the image burned into the backs of his eyelids. he wanted to keep it in his wallet so he could see the pleasure on your face whenever he wanted but the fear of someone seeing you like that had him keeping it tucked into the pages of a book on his nightstand.

“fuck, baby, not even here and you’re driving me insane.” his hand jerked a little faster, thumb swiping over the leaking tip as he brought himself closer to his release. he stared a little longer at the polaroid, at the grip of your pussy around his cock and the fucked out look in your eyes he’d caught so well. he let his mind wander, let himself think about that night, about the way you felt and tasted, the sounds you’d let out, the way you’d whimpered and begged him for more.

as he twisted his wrist and fucked his hand quicker he imagined it was your walls wrapped wet and snug around him, clenching and squeezing every time he hit that special spot. he thought about taking you from behind, fucking you hard until you were collapsing into his sheets, face buried in his pillow to muffle your moans and whimpers. he’d have one hand gripping your ass, already marked up and real pretty, his other would pull at your hair, force your head up so he could hear you, hear you cry his name when he finally rubbed his fingers over your clit.

he dropped the picture and cupped his balls, rolled and massaged them the way you did, his own head tipping back into the pillow, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, his chest heaving. he jerked himself at a fast pace, made sure to pay extra attention to the weeping tip as pleasure licked up his spine, made his stomach tense and his cock twitch. he was so close, wished he could be buried in your pussy or your mouth, wished he could stuff you full of his cum and hear you beg him not to stop.

steve thought about the way you always squeezed around him when he praised you, the way your pussy gripped him so tight he went a little light headed, all because he’d called you a good girl or told you how well you were taking him. he imagined that as he squeezed himself tighter, let his hips chase his fist as his orgasm crashed into him. your moans were loud in his ears, your whimpered cries of his name playing on a loop as his head conjured up image after image, his mind replaying what you looked like when he fucked his cock into your tight hole.

“fuck, baby just like that.” steve’s moans were more whines and whimpers, high pitched and desperate, a little cracked in the middle because his thumb had teased over the sensitive tip. he came over his hand and stomach, the sticky substance pooling beneath his belly button, dripping over his fingers as he slowed his pumps and rode himself through it. he milked himself until he had nothing to give, shudders wracking his body, hips jerking away from his loosened fist. his body felt light, cock softening in his palm as he stroked himself a few more times, once again imagined you between his legs, licking up his length to clean him, swallowing his load with a grateful hum.

steve gave a breathless laugh, one that sounded more like a moan and let his arms collapse at his sides, his chest flushed and heaving, body slicked with sweat and sticky with cum. despite his orgasm he still couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t get your doe eyes and pouted lips out of his mind. he tucked the polaroid back inside the book but the image printed on it followed him into sleep.

[moonlightsolo]

okay hear me out eddie being in a relationship with chrissy BUT he’s actually in love with reader (his best friend) but he doesn’t even realize it until chrissy points it out? says something like eddie you read her lord of the rings every night on the phone you’re obviously in love with her ??

summary: a clueless eddie munson doesn't realize his best friend his jealous and pulling herself away from him.

warnings: heavy cursing bc duh, angst, sad reader, also mean reader, eddie being dumb, chrissy being a g, & unedited!

note: this was so fun to write i love shit like this.

the freak and the cheerleader- hawkins most peculiar couple.

seeing them walk down the hallways of the high school makes your stomach churn. you couldn’t take your eyes off his leather cladded arm slung around her petite shoulders, and the happy smile on both their dumb faces.

two shaky fists are clenched by your side, jaw tense and teeth gritted tightly together. your eyes focus in on them walking down the hall right past you, noticing how other students turn their heads to stare at the odd couple.

usually, eddie walks to class with you since you both picked your senior year schedule together. he’s your best friend, and he didn’t even acknowledge your presence on the sidelines.

hm, that’s why he didn’t pick you up for school this morning.

being the freaks sidekick automatically makes you one too. you’re a nerd, a freak, a loser… you’ve heard it all, but you couldn’t care less about the names being thrown at you- especially when you had eddie to keep your attention off of them.

honestly, him not telling you that he has suddenly started dating chrissy fucking cunningham pissed you off. you always knew he had a little crush on her, but you didn’t think he had the balls to do anything about it. the boy tells you every single aspect about his life, personal and even grotesque things that make you cringe, and gag too. you still love him even with his lack of a filter, but him being so secretive isn’t like him.

you slam your locker shut with an grumbly sigh, making a speedy dart straight towards class. your feet turn down the hallway, spotting the classroom door that’s blocked by the one and only, eddie and chrissy.

fucking great!

you stop in your tracks, watching at how he looks down at her with that stupid, stupid smirk on those perfect fucking lips. how she bats her eyelashes, and hooks her fingers in his belt loops to pull him closer. you suck in a deep shaky breath before chugging onwards toward them.

“uhm, if you don’t mind, could you move-” your body slithers between eddie and the doorframe, pressing your back against his as you attempt to squeeze past him, “-please!” you huff out as you roughly push your butt back against his so he stumbles forward into the girl.

his unruly head of hair whips to face you, his anger filled eyes soften at the sight of you, “hey, why’d you have to push me so hard?”

“because you’re in the way, dumbass.” you scoff, rolling your eyes before turning your back on him to shuffle to your desk. chrissy and eddie finally part, making their way to their assigned seats.

somehow in the beginning of the year, you and eddie convinced the teacher to let you sit by each other since you both work ‘best’ together, but it’s really just you giving him all the answers.

he slides into the desk beside to you, his eyes burning into your skin as you unpack your supplies. “hey, you.” he whisper-yells at you, leg stretching across the aisle to kick your shin with the toe of his boot.

“can you stop?” you bite back, face stone cold with annoyance written across your features. you roll your eyes at him once again, before moving your attention to the whiteboard. his hands go up in surrender, eyebrows raising in surprise at your attitude.

“did you eat today?” he questions, “i know how you get when you’re hungry.” he rummages through his backpack, trying to find a candy bar he left for you in there.

“yes, eddie.” you hiss out, “i actually did eat. if you actually paid attention at lunch, then you would have known.” your eyes don’t dare to glance over at him.

“jesus christ.” he almost laughs, “did someone piss in your cheerios this morning?” he mumbles under his breath.

“shut up.” you grumble, scribbling down stuff in your notes as you attempt to pay attention to the lesson.

eddie mumbles something under his breath, slamming a heavy textbook down on the surface of his desk. some heads then around to look at him, making him glare right back at them.

he continues to stay silent throughout the class, but you can’t help but notice the loving glances him and chrissy share. your heart aches at the sight, wishing eddie was looking at you like that instead.

you imagine that he walks her to every single one of her classes, not caring if he’s late to his own. he’ll kiss her goodbye, letting his hands roam her tiny body before the teachers break them up. she’ll giggle at his jokes that she doesn’t understand, and force him to go to football games to cheer for her instead of hellfire club with you.

the bell rings, making you snap back into reality. you jump to your feet, shoveling the items on your desk in your arms. “wait!” eddie calls out to you as you dodge the swarm of students to get away from him.

eddie munson has never felt more conflicted in his life. you’ve never acted like this towards him, unless you were on your monthly friend. maybe that’s why you have such an attitude.

as he goes to push through the crowd of students to follow you, someone tugs on his arm. he sighs quietly as he turns around and looks down to find chrissy with a big grin on her face, “you ready?”

a small reluctant smile forms on his face, slightly glancing behind him to look for you. he cranes his neck to look over everyone’s heads, but you’re long gone. “yeah… let’s go.” he mutters, tugging her out of the classroom to make his way outside.

you’re sitting in the blistering summer heat on the pavement, the sun blaring down on your skin. you can feel the sweat soaking the back of your shirt, eyes darting over the parking lot to look for your moms car.

since you don’t have your own car to drive to school, eddie always gives you a ride, but today you couldn’t be bothered. during lunch, you called your mom to let her know you need her to pick you up. she blindly agreed and hung up on you since she was busy at work, so hopefully she remembered.

“hey, sweets.” eddie’s familiar voice sounds from behind you, making you whip your head around to look up at him. you bring your hand above your eyes to shade your vision, his face finally focusing into view.

“ready?”

“oh- i thought- since you- cancelled on me this morning? i didn’t think you’d want to.. drive me home.” you softly stutter, your quiet words make his face screw up in confusion. he plops down on the sidewalk next to you, his face screwing up from the bright sunlight.

“i would never not drive, my girl home. i only cancelled ‘cause i had the bubble guts.” he shrugs nonchalantly with a smug grin.

“ew, i didn’t need to know that.” you swat at his arm, letting out a giggle.

“there it is!” he jumps toward you with a crazy grin, eyes wild and face mere centimeters away from crashing into yours.

“what?! what is it?” you shift away from him slightly in surprise, eyes looking around for what he was talking about.

“your smile! you big idiot… i missed it.” he chuckles, pushing his hand through his hair as he shakes his head.

you can feel your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping up on your already heated skin. “today just hasn’t been a good day…” you breath out, dropping your head to your knees to slightly hide your smiling face.

“why so? did i do something?” eddie’s chocolatey eyes look over your face for any sort of reaction.

“no, of course you didn’t.” you lie through your teeth, giving him a small reassuring smile.

eddie grins, his arm instinctively wrapping around your frame to pull you into his side, “good. i was worried you were pissed at me for something. i don’t like when you’re mad at me.”

all you can do is chuckle as you snuggle your face into the warm leather of his jacket, taking in his familiar scent.

“hey eddie?” a tiny voice sounds from behind you both, making your head lift up to look back at where it came from.

“oh hey, chris.” eddie jumps to his feet, eyes slightly glancing at you before his attention was taken away by her- once again…

“can you give me a ride home? my friends left without me already.” she twirls her ponytail between her fingers, batting her long dark eyelashes and chewing on that obscenely loud gum. her blue eyes look down at you, then back at eddie.

eddie gulps, then smiles. “yeah, babe. of course.”

the nickname sends a shiver down your spine, your breathing stops in your throat. the next few turn of events makes you want to projectile vomit everywhere.

chrissy stands on her tippy toes to reach his lips, pressing her shiny glossed ones to his. you watch how his hands find their place on her hips, like he’s done this numerous times. his fingertips slightly press into her skin, pulling her close to his body. your blood runs cold, and anger sizzles in your chest.

your brain takes over, subconsciously making you stand to your feet and speed walk away from them. tears burn in the corner of your eyes as you wrap your arms around yourself, trying your hardest to get away as fast as possible.

“hey- wait!” eddie’s voice is muffled by the kiss, “where are you going?” his voice calls out from behind you.

“i’m just… gonna walk home! i need to clear my head.” you muster up a strong voice to yell back at him, taking a sharp turn to disappear behind the building of the school.

eddie groans loudly, throwing his head back to look up at the sky in exasperation. “god, this girl is going to kill me! jesus christ, i need to go get her.”

chrissy’s grip tightens on his jacket when he goes to follow you, “maybe… she just needs to think! to clear her head, like she said.”

eddie’s eyes zone out on where you were once walking away from him. a defeated sigh tumbles past his lips before his eyes glance down at the girl in his arms,“there’s something up with her. she’s been acting weird all day.”

“maybe she’s jealous?” chrissy suggests, making eddie’s head pull away from her slightly with a confused look on his face.

“jealous? why would she be jealous?”

“jealous… maybe... of us?” her eyes drop to look at their feet nervously.

“of us? no, no… she doesn’t get jealous. if she had a problem with us, she would definitely let me know.” he laughs in disbelief, knowing how outspoken you are with him. you have no filter when it comes to eddie, you can say just about anything and not feel judged.

“okay…” chrissy drops the subject, but obviously she doesn’t believe him.

“soooo, you- uh… wanna go back to mine?”

chrissy’s eyes perk up at the sound of that. she tugs him to his van to quickly usher him inside to drive.

on the walk home, you silently weep to yourself the whole time. your arms are wrapped tightly around you, knuckles white from the pressure. the tears on your cheeks dry up as your brain scrambles to think about something else, but it was all just chrissy and eddie; every time you close your damn eyes.

you don’t know how he never noticed you fell for him. maybe, he’s really just that clueless, or just refused to look at you in the same way you look at him.

maybe it’s because you don’t have perfect strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, that your nails aren’t perfectly painted all the time, and you never wear girly clothes.

you hurl your body through the front door of your house, immediately scurrying up the steps to your room.

the bedroom door slams shut behind you, the items on your wall tremble from the force. you crash on your mattress, dropping your backpack to the ground with a loud thud that reverberates throughout your room.

you let out the loudest, guttural groan into your comforter- all the frustration pent up in your body pouring into the fabric. “god, this fucking sucks! fuck you, heart! fuck you for these stupid feelings!” your scream is muffled by the mattress.

you lay there, face down until you can’t breathe. you reluctantly roll onto your back, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air. you wish that your bed would pull you in, suffocate you with a heavy hug that leads to your demise.

as your ears focus back into reality, you realize your room is eerily quiet, other than the sounds of crickets kicking up as the sun sets in the sky.

brrrrrriiiiing.

the phone on your bedside table rings to life, making you fly up from your comfortable spot on your bed. a slightly pressure forms in your head from getting up too quickly, but you push through the sensation. your hand grips the handle of the light blue receiver, swiftly bringing it up to your face to answer. “hello?” you hoarse voice speaks to the caller.

“hey, you. ready for lord of the rings? we’re on uh… chapter three…” he trails off as he flips loudly through the pages of the book, “page…?” he hums.

“ed, i can’t tonight.” you cut him off before he could say anything else.

“oh…” his voice is quiet, almost sounding like he is truly upset, “but- we- every night?” he stumbles over his words.

“not tonight.” you simply state, biting back the lump growing in your throat. your heart aches, it truly feels as if someone is wringing it out like a wet towel.

“alright… can we talk then?” he suggests softly, desperate to hear your voice.

“eddie…” your voice croaks unwillingly, swallowing back your emotions.

“what is up with you? seriously. what the fuck did i do?”

“i’m not getting into this right now. i need to sleep.”

you can hear the bed creak in the background as he moves, “are you sick? do i need to drive my ass over there right now?”

“no! i’m not sick! and no, you definitely don’t need to come over! my mom will kill me and you!”

“fuck that. i don’t care about your mom. i care about you, and you’ve been acting dodgy all day today and i can’t stand it-”

“eddie! just- leave me alone!” your voice raises at him, cutting him off.

the other side goes silent, waiting for him to respond to your outburst. for a moment, you think he hung up on you.

“fine.” his voice is cold, too cold for your liking, “have a good night.”

the line clicks in your ear and hums, indicating that he hung up.

the phone in your hand burns your palm, causing you to throw it at the floor in anguish. tears are freely streaming out of your eyes as you mourn for the friendship you might have just fucked up royally.

your heart shatters into a million pieces in your chest, cutting you open from the inside out, “fuck!” you frustratingly slam your fists down on the bed, before bringing your hands to your eyes to cup your face.

the next day, you don’t show up to school. you refuse to leave the safe haven of your bed, and most definitely refuse to face eddie munson and his girlfriend.

surprisingly, he actually shows up in the morning to pick you up for school, but you ignore his insistent knocks. he calls you a few times throughout the day, but you don’t answer. he calls you when he gets home, and receives no answer.

“fuck!” he slams the phone back on the wall, his forehead rests on the cool surface beside it. “eddie, why don’t we just go over there and see if her mom answers the door?” chrissy asks from her spot on his kitchen counter.

“no! if i go over there when her mom is home, she’ll hate me even more.” his voice is quiet and shaky, almost as if he’s holding back his tears.

“…are you in love with her?”

“what?” his head spins around to face her, eyes red and slightly glossy.

“i mean, you literally read her lord of the rings on the phone every night, don’t you?” she laughs at her own sentence, shaking her head, “and you’re crying because she’s just ignoring you.”

eddie’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, his brain scrambling to find a response.

“eddie. you and i both know the truth, deep down. you’re meant for each other.” she hops down from the counter to walk towards him, “you’re best friends. you can’t let her ruin your friendship because of me.”

“it’s not because of-.” he goes to talk, but chrissy hushes him.

“i’m a girl. i know it’s because of me.” she chucklss again, her hand coming up to pat his bicep. “it was fun while it lasted, munson.” she raises herself on her tippy toes, pecking his cheek. just before she swipes her keys off the counter and walks out of his trailer.

eddie stays in the same position, listening her engine igniting and the gravelly sound of her tires pulling away.

his mind replays every moment with you. how you play dungeons and dragons so good, that it makes his collar hot. how you were the first supporter of the hellfire club, and maybe he felt relieved that he failed a few grades just so you could catch up and help him.

he thinks about how your hair blows in the wind, and whenever he catches the smell of you and that obsecene perfume you wear, it makes his belly do somersaults. he thinks about how you can jam out to the music he loves with him, and how lovely it feels when your arms wrap around him. his heart grows heavy with need from how badly he wants to kiss you right now.

“holy fucking shit. i am in love with her.”

his heart drops to his feet when he realizes how distraught you must be from suddenly seeing him dating chrissy. everything clicks into place, and now he realizes why your mood has been so shitty. chrissy was right, you were jealous!

“oh my god. i’m so fucking stuuupid!” he spits out angrily at himself, his fingers grip his hair at the roots as he starts to pace. “this whole fucking time. this whole fucking time!” he booms out the last sentence.

his heart races as he grabs his keys to his van and sprints out his door, not even locking it behind him. he hops in the driver side of his van, not bothering to buckle since it’ll take too much time.

the tires squeak out of the driveway, pulling away fast and making a beeline towards your house. he curses under his breath, hoping that he didn’t fuck up your friendship by being an ignorant asshole.

eddie drifts onto your street, pulling up to your house and slamming on his breaks. his head flies forward as he pants, not caring about the whiplash he just gave himself. eddie climbs out of his car, slamming the door shut and sprinting to your front door.

his fist comes up to slam three hard knocks against the surface, his other arm resting on the doorframe for support.

when you heard the loud knocks, your head instantly picks up from your pillow. it sounded as if the police was at your door.

you carefully listen to the noise in your house, the hum of the tv and the footsteps of your mother running to the door. you can slightly hear a muffled conversation start once the door opens,

“hi ma’am. i’m here to see your daughter.”

“my daughter?“

“look- she’s my best friend. tell her that eddie the banished is here.”

“um, alright. one sec.”

you listen to her steps come close to the staircase, before her loud voice yells up them, “honey! you have a friend here to see you!”

you instantly perk up, blinking away the sleep in your eyes as you roll out of bed. you glance at yourself in the mirror, thankful you decided to finally shower today.

you swing your bedroom door open, making your way down the steps sleepily. “who is it?” your voice is quiet as your knuckles gently rub at your eye.

“it’s me.” eddie’s familiar voice sounds.

your eyes look up from the steps, halting your motion on the last few. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m here to see you.”

your worried eyes dart between your mom, who’s looking at you very confused, and eddie, who is very out of breath.

“what? why?” you trot down the last few to get closer to him, your eyes wide as you feel the panic sinking deep in your chest.

“honey? do i need to call someone?”

“no! mom, just give us a second… please.”

she lets out a frustrated sigh and saunters back into the living room to the tv. once she’s far enough away, your hands rise to his chest to push him outside with you following. you quietly click the door shut, before turning your attention to him.

“eddie, you really shouldn’t be here.”

“why not? you haven’t talked to me in days. i miss you, i miss reading lord of the rings with you every goddamn night. i miss seeing you at hellfire meetings.”

“eddie. please… i just can’t do that stuff with you anymore.”

“why not?” he almost stomps his foot like a toddler, his fists in balls by his side.

“because.” you exasperate for the millionth time, throwing your hands up into the air like he should know.

“because why? you need to tell me.”

every nerve in your body wants you to reach out and strangle the persistent boy. heat settles on your chest, as your dormant emotions bubble at the surface.

“because- because of chrissy!” you blurt out, chest heaving wildly.

eddie doesn’t even look phased by your suddenly outburst, “chrissy doesn’t even matter anymore. she broke with me.”

your heart sinks for him, but your stomach erupts in butterflies, “what-?”

“no, you be quiet, missy.” he points his index finger at you like a lecturing teacher, “she broke up with me. wanna know why? it’s she was right all-fucking-long.” he chuckles manically, shaking his head.

“and you know what, that girl helped me realize that i’m in love with you; that i’ve been in love with you!” his head falls back to look at the sky, “this whole entire time!” he shouts out to the clouds. he seems just as shocked as you are right now.

“that whenever i see you, those butterflies in my stomach aren’t from the gas station burrito i ate, it’s from you. because i love you. i always have. everything i did with chrissy, you were on my mind, but i’m such an ignorant douchebag i never even realized my own feelings for you.”

“oh my god.”

“look, i know you feel the same way right? you were hurt because i never told you about me and her because i was in a trance that fuckingpompomwielder had me in.”

you giggle at his words, eyelashes batting in attempt to hold back your tears, “eddie. i love you so much. i always have, from day one in that stupid gym class.” you wipe up the dampness under your eyes with your fingers, sniffling loudly.

before you can say anything else, eddie’s hands are cupping your cheeks roughly to pull you in for a much needed kiss. his lips feel mystical against yours, as if he’s other-worldly. sparks ignite across your skin, heating you up more than the summer night air ever could.

your arms drape around his slender waist, pulling his front flush against yours. his heavy breathing is evident as he pulls back from you, big brown eyes staring right into yours. “god dammit, that was even better than i imagined.” he slyly smirks down at you, one his hands sliding back into your hair as the other drops to your waist.

“you’re so smooth with that.” you compliment, making one of his eyebrows raise. “with what?” he hums out, his eyes stare at the sheen of your lips.

eddie brings his bottom lip between his teeth as he admires you, hoping he gets another chance to kiss you before he has to leave.

“with everything.” you brush a stray curl out of his eyes, letting your knuckles gently caress his cheekbone. he nuzzles into your advances, smiling softly at you.

“i just know what you like.” his fingertips tap your side with each word.

“hm, you do, huh?” you purr out provocatively, trying to egg him on to see how far he will go.

“i do. wanna test that theory?” a suggestive look in his eyes glance into yours, before motioning his head towards his van.

“let’s get out of here, munson.”