bleh

23🇮🇱 mdni

[daenysthedreamersblog]

JUNO

i know you want my touch for life

if you love me right, then who knows?

summary: you're sweeter than hard sucked strawberry candy and eddie wants you stuck between his teeth forever

pairing: eddie munson x henderson!reader

warnings: MDNI!! swearing, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, p in v sex, HEAVY breeding kink (eddie wants r pregnant bad, borderline baby trapping behavior but in a nice way (don't worry i h8 pregnancy trope it won't happen on my watch))

notes: i was ovulating when I wrote this if you couldn't tell

SUMMER OF '85

Your calves strained, toes overextended, arms reaching far beyond their ability for the last bag of brown sugar tucked so far back on shelf you figured you'd have better luck yanking the whole thing forward to knock it off. You glanced down, planted one food on the bottom shelf and climbed up fingers just grazing the plastic corner of it.

"Come on." Your tongue sat on the corner of your mouth, teeth chewing on it in concentration. Then it's slipping off of sweaty fingers, and you stumble backwards into the aisle. You groaned looking up and down the empty aisle before stalking off towards the other end in search of an employee. You cross over three empty aisles before you see someone you recognize enough to ask for help. "Eddie...Munson?"

He turned slowly, confused his name was coming from your mouth. He has always been a few grades above you, lately you had been creeping your way into his grade every year he failed. You didn't know him well, but enough to borrow his height. "Yes?" He always tried to come off intimidating, you had seen his menacing, degrading gaze to most people. For some reason, every time you had met his eyes, they had seemed soft, inviting. Even now, his brown eyes melted like molding chocolate taking you in.

"Do you have a second? I can't seem to reach something." You say pointing a few aisles over. He eyes you up and down before setting the box of cereal down and motioning for you to lead him. "Thanks." You sigh relieved walking him over the three aisles and down to the empty shelf besides that singular bag of brown sugar tucked away in back. "It's the brown sugar back there."

Theres no over stretching, or climbing just a side reach of his arm and the troublesome bag comes sliding forward. He grabs it with one hand, but holds it in his palm staring down at you. "Whatcha making?"

"A cake." You say hand going for the bag, but he moved it slightly out of reach. He raises a brow, "My little brother is coming home from summer camp."

"How fun." He lets your fingers wrap around it and tug it into your arms. "What kind?"

The tip of your shoe kisses the front of his own, neither of you shuffle them away from each other. "German chocolate."

"Sweet." He nods the corner of his lips tugging up. "Do I know him? Your brother?"

You shake your head, "No he'll be a freshman this year." You can't remember if Eddie graduated or not this past spring and you're unsure how to ask because you suddenly remember his club, the club for a game you're pretty sure your brother plays. "Hey, do you still have that club, for that game?"

His smile grows. "Hellfire yeah." He leans against the shelf, "Unfortunately I will be president of it once more." Oh, so he did fail again.

"Actually," Your eyes brightened. "Dustin might really be into that. He's been playing that with all his friends for years."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, "And you're sure you want him associated with someone like me?" A solid point, you knew what they said about Eddie Munson, that he was a freak, a weirdo. You were well acquainted with most outcast, you fit in enough but mostly kept to yourself to focus on your studies.

"Dustin and I try to focus on facts more than rumors." You pointed an accusing finger, "But if I get a whiff of drugs from his mouth I will find a way to poison you."

He kicks the heel of his foot against the linoleum the corners of his mouth curled up. "I shall consider it." HE waved around his head, "Do you need anymore...help with..." His eyes roam down your figure again catching on the bottom of the bag dangling below your ribcage. "Anything."

"No. I don't think so." You hug the bag of brown sugar to your chest. "Thanks again." He meets your eyes, a warm cup of freshly brewed espresso looking back at you, "See you around Eddie."

"Yeah." He glances again at the tan sugar clutched between fingers. "See ya sweet girl."

FALL OF '85

You push the double paned door open with a shoulder and took in the sight of an empty office beside two people sitting at a rounded wooden table. You take slow, hesitant steps as they seemed engrossed in a conversation over what seemed to be a schedule. You tried not to listen, but you three were the only ones in the office.

"You have enough credits in physical education, so you don't need to retake that. You will need to average at least a C+ in your math and science courses to get those credits. We're still behind in English." Mrs. Kelley points to the paper.

It's Eddie Munson sitting beside her with an annoyed hand in his hair. "Do I need to take math?"

She laughs, "Yes." He groaned placing his head on the table. "Doesn't that game of yours involve math?"

"That's different." He mumbled you bite down on the smile forming. "It's actually fun."

Ms. Kelley sighs, "This is your last chance Mr. Munson." You suddenly feel like you're intruding on something, so you clear your throat. Ms. Kelley turns to take you in. "Ms. Henderson. You're here early." She glances at Eddie, "Have you two met before?"

Eddie picks his head up to glance at you with soft recognition. "Sweet girl, how was the cake?"

"Good." You smile making your way over to the empty chair next to Ms. Kelley. "My brother enjoyed it very much."

"Dustin." He points out and you nodded.

Ms. Kelley grins, "Good I'm glad you two are well acquainted. She folded her hands, "Eddie I've taken the liberty of requesting Ms. Henderson be on standby for any academic needs you may have throughout the year. Think of her as a tutor if you should require any help."

Instead of looking embarrassed, ashamed he seems pleased it was you. "What do I get out of it?"

"A diploma." You chuckle. "If it motivates you, I will bring treats every session."

Eddie holds out his hand, "The deal is the deal." You beam as you shake his warm hand, cool rings a relief against hot skin. Neither of you pull away, unable to break away from the contact, eyes caught on your own reflection in his swirling brown eyes.

"Okay." Ms. Kelley claps her hands as you snatch back your own finally. "We'll meet every two weeks Mr. Munson to make sure you're on track." She gathers her papers and stands up leaving the two of you alone at the table.

He leans across the table, closer to you, "Wish you had let me try some of your goods that day." You glance at his fingers, his mouth, his eyes feeling your teeth tug your lip between them. The cake, he's talking about-! "Is your brother here?"

You shake your head, "His orientation is tomorrow."

He nods along to your words. "I'll find him once school starts."

"Don't tell him I put in a word about it." You grimace. "Make it seem natural, like you sought him out on your own."

He puts a hand to his chest, "Your secret is safe with me sweet girl. If he's anything like you, I'm sure I'll like him."

You smile down at the table.

Every Tuesday after school you met with Eddie in the library going over his homework with him, helping him studying for any upcoming exams. He was riding a high D throughout the first quarter of school, but by midterms he had quickly pushed up to a C. You kept true to your word always baking something new to bring with you as motivation for focusing on his academic work.

Once the food was done, well it was hard to keep him on track after that as he would divulge into conversation with you, picking apart your life to get to know you better. "AP Chem and AP English? How do you have time for anything?"

"Lots of late nights." You chuckle closing the textbook realizing he was done applying himself for the day.

He leans against his fist on the table studying you better than he ever studied your notes. "Shouldn't you fill you nights with something more...fun?"

"Like what?" You raise a brow fighting the pre-heating warmth in your stomach. Eddie liked to flirt, liked to flirt with you too much to not enjoy it. You figured it was just a way to distract you off of making him do work, and unfortunately you always had a tendency to gorge yourself with it.

His other hand lands near you own arm, fingers drawing circles into your skin. "Whatever young ladies do in the dark of the night." You know exactly what he is talking about finding that you were doing it too much lately when you tossed and turned replaying every feather-light touch he seemed to hand over to you.

You pull your arm back. "How is my brother?"

He sighs, discontent at the sudden shift away from him. "Oh, my little bard. He's good, really all in on Hellfire. He doesn't talk of you much." Well, why would he, you figured you weren't nearly relevant to any conversation beyond the fact you were giving him a ride. "Every time I ask about you, if you're picking him up, he changes the subject." Eddie gives a menacing wag of his finger. "Lies to me about it."

"Well, you're easily distracted so I could get why he wants to keep you focused on the game." You begin to gather your books.

His hand stills your wrist. "You're awfully distracting sweet girl."

The weeks move mundanely, a passing of time to get from one point to the next, the only joy you find is brown eyes meeting yours out in crowded space. You'd see him at the other end of the hall, and you'd slowly gather your things trudging along the white tiled floor towards your class. Then he'd finally push off the wall walking the opposite direction of you.

He'd walk past you, knuckle grazing the back of your own and you would both continue on a winded path. And that would be it, you wouldn't see him until he waited at your usual table with shared hungry eyes. You weren't sure if it was for what was tucked safely in a Tupperware bowl, or you.

Then suddenly it's a wintery Friday, and you're baking in your kitchen. "There you go Tews." You pet the cat behind his ears as his head dips to lick at his food before you stand up to wash your hands. You glance at the oven still having four minutes left. Then you're left staring out of the kitchen window with nothing else to do but wait.

"Sweetie." Your mother calls from the living room. "Do you mind picking up Dustin from his club?"

You try to sound uninterested, "Hmm?"

"Dustin. He's at his club." She reiterates for you.

"He's still there?" You look at the stove again now saying three minutes, then quickly to the clock on the wall. "It's so late."

She sighs, "Yeah it goes until 7:30. You can head there now I can take your banana bread out."

"It's almost done anyways." You run upstairs quickly shucking off your pajama pants to put on a pair of jeans then throwing a jacket over your shoulders. You bound down the stairs, sifting through the key dish to find the car keys. By the time you make it back to the kitchen the timer is beeping in tune with your heart, and the smile grows on your face as you pull out the loaf tin. You set it in the stove to cool down and sadly leave it there. "Wrap it once it cools please." You kiss the top of your mother's head.

"Drive safe please!"

Ever since Will Byers had gone missing your brother was never allowed to bike anywhere anymore, unless you accompanied him, even though Will had come back. You knew your mother had become overbearing, but it had come from a good place, and anyways you liked an excuse to drive around and listen to music. You also liked having more excuses to see Dustin's club president.

You pull into a mostly empty parking lot searching around for your little brother when eventually you got too impatient to sit there. You check yourself in the little mirror before turning the car off and making your way towards the building searching for your brother. "Dustin?" You called mostly hearing your own feet against linoleum. You take a right, voices finally cutting through the silence, a loud babble of laughter. You follow it, "Dustin?" You push the door open warm light welcoming you into the drama room.

Your little brother calls your name. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom asked me to come get you." You walk further into the room, taking in the large table, Mike and Lucas, other classmates, and... Eddie who watches you with famished eyes. "She said you were done at 7:30."

Dustin sighs, agitated. "I told her so many times before on Fridays it goes until 8:00."

You shuffled your feet unsure what you're supposed to do. Eddie's chair scrapes the floor as he begins to move towards you. "I can drive him home if you don't want to wait around."

You glance between Dustin and Eddie. "Can't you just leave early?"

Eddie gasped a hand falling on your shoulder with a squeeze, "This is Hellfire baby, you can't just leave early."

You're blushing furiously and fumbling over thoughts that all you can say is, "But I was making banana bread." You peer up at him whispering out, "For you." Ms. Kelley had told you he had gotten a B- on his latest English test.

"You two know each other?"

"Hey, speaking of that," Mike interjects. "My dad keeps begging me to ask you to make those blueberry lemon muffins again." You look at Mike, for some reason the request grounds you, and you nod. "He likes them with his coffee."

Eddie gives Dustin a light glare, "Your wonderful sister is going to be the reason I graduate this year Henderson." He looks back at you, "And why my jeans are getting tighter." Dustin makes a disgusted sound to which Eddie shouts at him. "Not that way! Get your head out of the gutter."

Dustin puts his head in his hands. "Just head home, Eddie said he'll drive me home." He doesn't say it meanly, just giving you an out instead of waiting in the car for him.

"Mom will kill me if I walk back in the house without you." You have him there and so he's grumbling as he stands up packing up his belongings following you to the door.

"You owe me Henderson." Both you and your brother turned back to Eddie. He points at you, "You." He smirks, "I might just have to collect a favor from you for stealing away my Bard."

Your cheeks burn, but it's Dustin who's shoving you through the door. "Stop flirting with my sister."

"Oi! I can do whatever I want!" Eddie cackles after you as Dustin continues to usher you out.

The following Monday at school you come baring an apology/celebration gift. You probably didn't need to do it, but Dustin wore you down all weekend that you should feel bad about dragging him away from the "awesome" campaign Eddie had created. You usually only bring small portions, but it was an act of goodwill. You have the wrapped dish tucked under your arm as you make your way down the hall to catch him before he went into lunch.

"Eddie." You say loud enough to make him stop walking, to turn and look at you.

"Sweet girl." He coos eyeing you up and down.

Your lips part and close as your face burns. "I uh was going to give this to you later, but I don't want to carry it around all day." You pull the tin from its spot in your arms holding it out for him. "Dustin said you worked hard on the campaign thing and I-I felt bad. Also, I heard about your English grade. You've been working really hard on that too, so you get the whole loaf.

"Oh." He peers at the platter you've handed him. He peels back the cover. Then looks back at you, "You don't need an olive branch with me sweet girl." He points at you, "Just don't do it again; there's only so much forgiveness pretty can buy you."

You tuck hair behind your ear and point down the hallway, "Well uh got to run, but I'll make sure to be a good girl next time." His head reels back in shock and you're swerving around him. You slap yourself as you walk off down the hall because what the fuck just came out of your mouth.

It's hard to focus the rest of school as you run over your words every other minute dissecting every embarrassing moment it leaves your mouth. You should have swallowed it all down, never brought it up. He got to you in a way you didn't understand, it ignites some pooling desire you had never felt for anyone before. You had always thought he was cute, in a mysterious, intimidating way you would never reach. Then he failed multiple years in a row, you saw him more, you tutored him, you let him devour you with milk chocolate eyes, and you realized he wasn't all that dark and foreboding. He was sweet, tad irresponsible, but kind, funny, and it turned you into a tenderhearted fool.

You basically let your head droop into your locker hoping it would swallow you whole as you released a hopeless sigh too embarrassed to ever pick up Dustin again from his club.

A hand slides across your lower back every vertebra stiffening at the touch barely pulling your head out of the locker before his words pour out, "You know I thought all those little sweets you bring me were good, but this truly takes the cake."

You peer sideways at the voice, at Eddie, face so near yours that the sharp breath you exhale blows strands of his hair away from his face. "W-What?"

Brown eyes study you. "I thoroughly adore your skills." Eddie's fingers come up twirling your hair between his own, letting strands entwine around his rings.

"You like it?" You breathe. The bread, the...bread.

"I must have more."

Your eyes widen, "More you-you..."

He shook his head letting your hair fall back around your face. "I overindulged my friends and am terribly distraught it is all gone."

"I can make you some other version of it." His eyes drink you in, like hot chocolate on a snowy day, and you wonder if this was what it means to drown in someone's gaze.

His hand slides off of your back, the empty touch leaving you frigid. "Hmm anything I want you say?"

You nodded, "Yeah just-uh let me know or-or Dustin."

"Okay sweet girl." He pinches your chin between his thumb and finger tilting your face up to him. He breaths out his nose, eyes roaming your face, "Then I'm calling in my favor."

Your cheeks are aflame as you feel yourself melting within his grip; your brows crease in surrender, at the mercy of any of his attention. "What did you want?"

He smirks, "What are you offering?"

Before you can respond with a question of clarity, you hear your name. "This is why I tell Mom to not let you pick me up." Dustin is shooing Eddie's hands away from your face.

"Now, now I happen to think that is rather cruel of you Henderson." Eddie is quick to tug you by the wrist and wrap an arm around your shoulder to hoard you close to him. "You've been awfully selfish."

Dustin's eyes flicker between you and him, to the arm possessively curling around you. "I had good reason." You suppose so; if he hurt you, Dustin loses Eddie. If Eddie hurts you, Dustin loses Eddie. It was a lose, lose situation in your little brother's eyes.

You wrangle away from Eddie. "I was just...celebrating hard work." You tell Dustin. "Eddie just was asking for something else."

Dustin has the audacity to glare at Eddie, "You didn't like it?"

You laugh tugging your brother's face back towards you, "Quite the opposite. I owe him a favor, so he's calling it in. No more bad blood for my poor time management."

"Henderson." Both you and your brother looked, "Not you sweet girl." Dustin scoffed, "You're hosting Hellfire at your house on Friday. That is the favor I ask for."

"What?"

Eddie only gave Dustin a light shove, "Don't make you sister drive that late at night." Then he brushed past you, down the hall, and out of view.

"Mom won't be happy." Dustin reminded you.

You winced. "Power struggle of the century."

Sweat beads at your hairline as you mix the dough, heat from the oven boiling the small kitchen you were working in. You eye the timer, went back to your mixing, and wondered if Eddie would like the taste of your sweat inside these cookies you were making.

Your cheeks burned at the ghost of his touch along your back, the way his fingers fit your chin between them. You rolled your neck trying to fight the yearning for more from boiling you in this stifling room. Cool air hits you suddenly breaking the memory, or the fantasy and your eyes blink up to find your mother pushing the small curtains aside, "You're going to set the house on fire."

"I'm almost done." You set aside the mixing bowl and try to swipe stray flour into the sink.

"Dustin will be happy you've done this for his friends." An absentminded comment.

"This is-yeah yeah, he said the games ran long." The timer begins to go off on the stove the same time the door flies open. Your heart rate speeds up, and surly it's the excessive heat making you dizzy as you tug the tray from the oven. You keep moving to prevent your mind from getting away from you. You find a focal point on the little chocolate pieces you begin to measure out as familiar voices flood in from behind you.

It's the loud noise of teenage boys clambering around before descending into the basement with thumping footfalls. It recedes, silences embracing you once more, until you register your mother again. "Thank you, it's good to finally have you over. Dustin never stops talking about you."

"I'm sure all good things?" You're chewing on your lip as Eddie's voice floats in the air.

"He really looks up to you." Your mother oblivious to all the darker rumors you heard about him; triple senior, drug dealer, everything that should have made you look the other way.

You were just as starry-eyes as your brother. "Well I am taller." Your mother laughs so loudly it drowns out the sound of him walking into the kitchen, towards you. "Sweet girl." He says and half the cup of morsels go flying across the counter. "Jeez is the heat getting to you."

"No! No..." Probably, but most likely him. "You just...startled me." You grab a napkin and sweep the spilled pieces onto it to toss in the trash before going to your empty measuring cup. "Shoot."

He's beside you and it's hard to tell if the oven is burning your shoulder or him. "What's up?"

You eye the bowl of dough, of half the required amount of chocolate chips, then his face. "I...I..." You can't think straight, as he stares down at you, as he consumes your features with eyes the same color as the chocolate chips you had dropped. "My measurements might be wrong."

He shrugs, "Just eyeball it."

"Well no," You correct him. "It's a strict recipe."

He smirks reaching beyond you, cheeks brushing, as he grabbed the bag of chocolate chips. "I'm sure it will be just fine." Then he proceeds to pour freely from the bag until he's content as you watch in horror knowing it would throw off the consistency, the baking time, the ratio you had perfected. He takes the spoon, mixing them all in until you're sure the dough is more chocolate than cookie. Then to even further horror, he takes two fingers through the dough letting it gather and plopping them into his mouth. "Mhm," He moans, closed eyes toying with your ruined masterpiece. "See? Still so good."

"I guess we'll just have to see how they bake." You clear your throat.

"Well you could try it now, make sure it's up to your...liking." He suggest but before you could stammer out some sort of response he's guiding two fingers through the dough again, using his other hands to cup your jaw. Yes, it's the heat from the oven making you loopy, making your face burn as your lips part giving him enough opening to shove his fingers into your mouth. You stare up at him, he stares down at you as the pads of his fingers lay politely on your tongue. "Come on, taste my hard work, be a good girl hmm?"

Your tongue rolls back between the spread of his fingers letting unbaked dough melt along your warm mouth. You flatten it to swallow realizing it taste find, albeit a tad to chocolaty, but you found you didn't care anymore what the fucking cookies tasted like. Your tongue swirls around his fingers, teeth grazing his knuckles tasting nicotine he held between fingers, lead from pencils, the little morsels of chocolate held back by your eagerness to swallow him down. You feel every groove of his skin, the cuts along his phalanges, calluses along the pads of his fingertips.

"You like that?" He breaths down at you, fingers stretching your mouth, gliding along the outsides of your teeth. You hum a response that could have only been dredged up from some deep pleasurable part of your body. You lay a hand on his wrist and suck his fingers in deeper. It's some instinctive need to glide your mouth along his two fingers until the tip of your nose brushes the outer metal of his ring, swirling your tongue back around until his nails dig into the back of your throat. You need to stop; something is going to burn but you can't help drinking down his skin like the water you desperately had needed all night.

Spit is pooling out of your mouth, down your chin, onto his other hand gripping your face too firmly. His body presses into yours, slotting a knee between his own as something harsh digs into you. "I bet you taste even better." You blink up at him watching you with eyes that now looked too dark to be brown. Need pools, the air too thick with the desire coursing through you, the orange glow of the oven engulfing you in a broiled flame. You wanted him, well of course you always had, but an ache had formed only he could fill, and now he sat right on your tongue willing to take you against your kitchen counter if you asked.

"Eddie!" Your brother's voice shouts from downstairs. "Leave my sister alone!"

He doesn't shoot away, you don't push; his fingers simply retreat from your mouth. Spit follows in its wake as he lets them drag over your lip, your chin, jaw staring down at the glistening sight in the kitchen light. "You should go down there." You voice is barely a whisper; words jumbled in a horny haze. "Campaign and all."

Eddie chuckles taking his own fingers back into his mouth to taste your saliva, the sight alone makes wetness pool between your legs. "We both know why I arranged the game here tonight." He slides a wet thumb across your cheek bone then over your lips one last time and you taste the hint of flour that had messily coated your exposed skin, "I'm coming in you soon sweet girl."

He saunters away, down the stairs and your rush to the sink to splash cold water over your neck. Whether it a threat or promise you didn't know how long you could handle the pressure building within you until Eddie Munson made true to his word.

An hour-and-half later you're sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of cool water and strands of sweaty hair sticking to your face trays upon trays of cookies sitting perfectly wrapped for the taking. You should go shower, lay down, your task was complete, and yet you waited for someone to come upstairs to bother you.

It was your mother instead, "Why don't you go take some down there for them?" She asked sneaking one out from beneath the opaque wrapping. You glared at her, "I can't help it my daughter is just so talented."

"Okay I guess." Like you would ever pass up the opportunity to go down there despite the smell of teenage boys.

"Tell Dusty maybe another hour." You glanced at the clock.

You chuckled, "Not sure how well that will go over. You're cutting them off thirty minutes early."

"Well it's getting late and I don't want Mrs. Wheeler to worry and the other-!"

"I'll let them know Mom." You waved her off standing to your feet to grab a tray of assorted treats before padding over plush carpet to the stairs. The noise hits you all at once when you're five steps down; they're so loud, so unruly, so boisterously enthralled in their game. It all comes to a screeching halt as your feet hit the basement floor as your brother groans at the sentence you had cut off from Eddie. "I've finished."

The corner of Eddie's mouth ticks up, "Have you?"

Your cheeks tinge with pink as you chew your bottom lip motioning to the tray in your hand. "Figured you all can get the fresh batch." You set it down on the table careful to knock any game pieces off before stepping around towards your brother, towards Eddie who sat so near him. "Mom said one more hour." You whispered.

A hand landed on your back, "You cutting me off again sweet girl?" You ignore him, ignore the flame edging up your spine as his thumb slips beneath the hem of your shirt to land on bare skin.

"Think we could push it?" Dustin suggested.

You weighed it unable to map it out with Eddie's full hand now beneath your shirt laying against your back. "She had four of the crème brûlée cookies so her blood sugar will probably crash and she'll lay down soon. She'll head back out for some water though so it could buy you an extra fifteen minutes."

Dustin taps his fingers, strategizing, Claudia another boss to defeat in his game. "Could you distract her?"

"She'll peek her head in your bedroom." You remind him.

Dustin swears. "I'll take the fifteen minutes."

You both turn to Eddie who's too distracted at his own touch on your skin. "Hmm? Sounds good."

You shake away from him back towards the stairs. "Do try to listen Dusty, I can give you her warning, but I can't protect you from her wrath." Your eyes meet Eddie's and you wonder if you stayed longer in his touch if he'd end the game right there for you.

You hurry up the stairs, up to your room to close and lock the door. It was up to him what they did next, your job was done. In the quiet of your room, your skin branded with the touch he had left behind, the lingering push into your skin that no amount of cool air could stifle. You took three deep breaths before yanking your door open and charging into the bathroom.

You take one glance in the mirror and wonder if it was obvious how hot and bothered you had grown, wide pupils, cherry red cheeks, parted lips wanting to run a tongue down his skin. Your mother would kill you; your brother would kill you if he knew the sick thoughts you were having about that man in your basement. You turn the shower on and jump in too quickly cold water steaming against your blazed skin. It takes your breath away, your thoughts, as your body shook with a shiver. The water warms as you stand there, letting it pelt you into submission as you fall into motion with a normal shower.

You're lathered and washed when you finally dig into your fingernails for stray dough as any residue it scraped away. His fingers in your mouth. Your hand shoots out to steady yourself against the shower wall the memory so vivid, so stark that your mouth opens letting droplets hit your wide jaw. It's insatiable, for every cuticle he'd give you, you'd gnaw at it, no better than a dog in heat. You knew it would happen; you figured a cold shower would help, but knees are bending, sliding you down until your sitting against the bath floor hand slithering between your legs.

The minute your fingers lightly touch your throbbing clit, you bite down on your knuckle to suppress the moan that chews your throat instantaneously. It's crude, it's all primal as you rub into that needy bundle of nerves feeling your body warm to a degree your oven would never reach. You angle your elbow to try and push fingers inside of yourself as your cunt pulsates with need, an urge to be filled. You only whine unable to reach the deeper parts of yourself while working your clit. You glance up at your shower head cursing at its stagnant head, your eyes dart around the shower looking for something, anything to shove inside of yourself. Shampoo bottles, soap bars, your mother's loofa, then you're just cringing at your desperateness.

You could do this, you needed to do this, or else you'd be salivating after him until you did something stupid like sucked his fingers in a scalding kitchen like it was some perverted candy. You groaned pressing in harder on your clit. You had made yourself cum like this before, you could do it again. Focus...focus...You thought of his hand on your jaw, his fingers in your mouth, you pictured it, pictured it as he pushed his other hand inside of you, worked you from the inside out. You finally feel the burning desire pooling in your stomach making you whimper out more, stifling the noise with a palm between teeth. You chase it hard, you're unrelenting, trying to stay in an awkward position to finish this job once and for all. Your toes curl and slip on the tub, knee jerking out to knock bottles down onto the ceramic floor the soft noise coming from the base of your throat. In your mind's eye, you see him in an alternate kitchen, eating your baked goods with closed eyes, moaning as he chews, tongue darting out over lips as he nods along tell you how good you are.

Someone knocks at the door the same time your orgasm washes over you; the shock from both sending a strange high pitch squeal out of you. You're breathing is heavy, staggered and you blink around your shower to chase the floaters away, letting the sins swirl down the drain. "I'm in here!" You call too quickly turning off the shower and clambering to your feet to find a towel all the while shaking far too much.

You don't feel better. If anything, you feel worse, empty. You wrap the towel around yourself and turn the door handle to go back into the seclusion of your room.

Eddie is staring back at you. "W-What are-!"

"I couldn't find the bathroom." He answers not moving, not averting his eyes, just standing there staring at you.

"Okay." You reply going to move around him when he shifts to stand back in front of you.

You peer up at him, drops of water sliding down from your wet hair. "You take very loud showers." Your brows crease, "I heard the strangest little noises coming from in there." Your face pales at the implication; there's no way he heard you. His hand comes up, fingernails grazing your slick collarbone, "If you needed something you could have asked for it."

Your lids flutter at the touch. "I-I don't know what-what you mean?"

He smirks, fingers trailing up your neck feeling the rapid thump of your pulse. "Don't be shy on me now sweet girl as if you weren't sucking off my whole hand earlier." He rested his hand there, on the nape of your naked neck. "Is that what you thought about when you came? Did you think about me?"

At that you bite your lower lip and avert your gaze trying to root in some logic when the sudden insecurity rushes to the surface. "You just want more cookies."

Instead of laughing, of bantering back he takes a step closer tilting your face up towards him. "No." He leans down, his face coming inches to your own, lips brushing your own. "I want you." You exhale feeling it circle against his mouth back towards the faintest hint of vanilla extract within it. "There's something about you I just...adore."

You shoot away from him with a gasp remembering you're standing naked in your hallway about to kiss him. "No... No." You're not sure what you're denying your brain is a mush of desire. You run your hands over your face realizing all the steam had gone from the mirror. "I have to brush my hair." Is all you say pushing past him and into your room. You sit down at your vanity, still clutching your towel to your chest as you hunt down a hairbrush.

He's still there, standing in your doorway watching you brush your hair. You meet his dark molasse eyes in the vanity's mirror, "You didn't answer my question." Did you think of me? With a quiver in your eyes, you gave him a curt nod. He beams, drumming against your doorframe. "Goodnight sweet girl."

The phone rings Saturday morning. Your mother answers, "Henderson residence." Her eyes dart to Dustin the minute the voice beyond the phone greets her. "One second."

Dustin stands up, walking over to take the phone from her. "Hello?" His face falls as his eyes meet yours, "It's for you." Your brows furrow as you take a small sip of your coffee. "Eddie."

You nearly choke on the hot drink setting it down with a clatter to make your way to the phone. Dustin basically slams it to your palm, "Hello?"

"Why do you two answer the phone like that?" You turn to hide the smile crawling onto your face.

"Like what?" You gather the cord and move away from the table hiding behind the other wall to stray from prying eyes.

"Confused, like whoever is calling shouldn't be on the other end."

You twirl your fingers around the cord, "Well I didn't know who was calling, and we all seemed to believe it was for Dustin." You wait a few beats, "What uh...what are you calling about?"

"I fear I didn't make myself clear yesterday." He speaks with purpose. "So can I see you today?"

"Why?"

He laughs, "Can't I want to see you?"

"No, well yes, but I just...We don't...Is this about school?" You stammer out some strange string of words to make sense of him wanting to see you.

"No."

You wrap the cord around your wrist, undo it, then do it again the silly grin plastered on your face. "Is this some play to sell me drugs?"

He shushes you, "Now don't let mommy dearest find that out, or else she'll never allow me around you."

Your arms cross over your chest, "Okay so why do you want to see me? Do you need me to be bait while you rob a bank?"

"How'd you know?" The giggle slips out embarrassingly. "Just ugh," He groans. "Just come over."

"To do what?" You still, laughter hard to find as your heart pounds too loudly in your ears.

He sighs heavenly, "To see me. Teach me to make something you like. I may normally be a bad learner, but for you I shall make an exception."

"Do you even own flour?"

An hour later Eddie is bounding down his front porch stairs to help you carry a few grocery bags into his home. He eyes you suspiciously as you take in the sight of it; it isn't clean, but it isn't dirty. It's simply lived in and had a quaint warmness to it by every indication of life. "Do you live here alone?"

"No," He answers studying the contents of the bag confused. "I live with my uncle." You eye the line of hats along the wall and smile a little. "He's at work right now." You nodded walking back over to him taking in all the ingredients trying to not focus on the fact the pair of you were alone. "So, what am I attempting to ruin for you?"

You link your own fingers and hold them to your chest, "Well I love an almond croissant, but that may be out of your skill level." He playfully glares at you. "So, I figured we could start with something easy." You tug out the box of sponge cake mix, "Do you have eggs?" You take over from there, quickly familiarizing with the mismatched set of mixing bowls they seemed to have scattered along the cabinets. There was no rhyme nor reason to their version of storage, but you find your way.

"Do you prefer easy?" He asked, the sincere genuine question finding you in in the midst of whisking.

"Truth be told, it may take longer but making it by scratch always turns out better. You have more room to adjust for errors, or tweaking things to your liking." You nudge his shoulder, "Add too many chocolate chips."

He smirks down at you, "I like sweet things."

You chuckle, "I can tell." You move around the kitchen, "Do you have a cake tin or something?"

He points to some tall cabinet, "Maybe at the top."

"There's a science to it all, add too much of one thing, too little of another and it won't turn out right." You go up onto your toes to pull down the muffin tin. "I guess we'll make this work." You set it on the oven, preheating it while you can. "Suppose that's why I am so good at chemistry." You show him how to pour them out evenly into the tins to avoid overflowing, "It's probably okay this time since we're cutting them in half anyways."

He follows instructions beautifully and finally you let him slide them into the warm oven. He wipes his hands off on his shirt, long lines of powder down the black fabric, and turns back to you. "Where did you learn all this?"

Your smile falters, and quickly you busy yourself with cleaning up everything. "Oh, uh just enjoyed making Sunday pancakes too much with my mom, picked it up as a hobby." You knew you both had shitty dads from shallow small talk while you packed up textbooks and notebooks after your Tuesday meetings. "It was a good distraction during the...louder days."

"Dustin doesn't talk about him often either." He says walking up next to you as you rinse the cake mix off the sides of the bowl.

You shrug, "It's nothing noteworthy. We're better off for it."

"Your mom doesn't know you tutor me?"

You turn the water off smirking up at him, "And tear down that perfect image Dustin created for her? No way."

He smiles down at you, "Well you can tell her I know how to bake really well."

"I wouldn't go that far." You correct him. "Still have a while before we can put that to the test."

He toys with the end of your hair, "I am merely a student, so everything that goes wrong will be your fault." You eye the movement before glancing back up at him. "Will you let me kiss you if they're good?"

"You want to...kiss me?" You're breathless as you ask it.

"No, I want to fuck you, but..." He drops his hand to his side letting a deep breath out. "I'm being respectful."

You can't find air; your throat is closing up. "What if I don't want respectful?"

He seems taken aback, "Dustin said-!"

You whack his arm, "You asked Dustin about me?"

"I just asked if you were seeing someone." He puts his hands up in defense. "He told me no and you never have, never would, but now that I think about it, I think he just wants me to stop pining after you."

You laugh to yourself. "I haven't...I'm not well versed in that aspect, but that wasn't of my own choosing." You blush picking at the cake mix on your nail beds. "No one has really caught my eye, well, except for you." He's silent, so silent you peek up at him embarrassed, but he's staring at you in a new light.

Then he's grabbing your face and kissing you.

Your world explodes in technicolor flavors, the electric shock of his kiss sending a current down to your toes as your body curls into him. He forces your mouth open, slides his tongue in through the gap and swirls against your own. You moan into his mouth letting him lick every space between your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the sides of your cheek until finally he's sucking your own tongue back into his mouth. Your knees feel full of jelly as you taste along his tongue, the cigarette smoke, toothpaste, and scoops of cake mix he had stolen when you weren't looking.

"You shouldn't eat raw dough," You gasp out as his mouth trails down your jaw, your neck sucking along every inch of skin like melted ice cream off a cone.

"I'll survive a raw egg." He murmurs into your skin biting down into your flesh like you were the cake he wanted to eat.

You shake your head, hands raking through his hair. "It's not the...egg...It's the flour that's...bad."

He comes off of you, stares down at you with a bemused expression. "Shut up." He hoists you up onto the counter. Your body scatters groceries across the counter, onto the floor, and you pray the container of strawberries held. He's kissing you again, harsher, teeth gnashing with your own as his hand kneads into your breast through your shirt. You arch into the touch hitching your hips up around his body trying to rub that aching part of yourself against him. He tries to enter through the top of your shirt, gives up, and pushes it up your stomach to get a hand on bare flesh. Your mouth parts, breathing into his open mouth as his fingers roll your nipple between them, passing over it with the pad of his thumb the sensation making you dizzy.

His eyes dart around your face, the debate in his brown gaze, then he decides and he darts down to your hitched up clothing letting his tongue loll along the same nipples he had pinched taut. You moan louder, back arching off the counter as he's sucks harshly on the bud, learning the shape of it by the muscles in his mouth. Teeth dig in, nipping at your nipple, his bottom front row indenting into the supple flesh of your breast.

"I'm gunna touch you now." You're sure there's a question in there, but you don't answer, only jump at the sound of the button coming loose of your jeans. You think of your shower, think of begging the universe to send you anything to put inside of you, and now his fingers were clawing a path beneath your underwear. "Fuck." He hisses fingers slipping along your soaked pussy. "You're so fucking wet."

You know, you were cursed with this wretched need, and it oozed out of you like a poison he had the cure for. "Please." You beg eyes squeezed shut his fingers passing over you once more.

"Sweet girl." He coos against your chest before slipping two fingers inside of you. Your chest caves in, the gasp second nature at the feel of his long fingers pushing into you. You feel dingy countertop paint peeling beneath fingernails, biting your inner cheek as he pulses his hand in and out of you with a steady pace. Eddie lifts his head up, dark hair hovering against your chest as he pushes into you deeper, the groan echoing off of your teeth. "Good?"

You nod, "Yes."

"Better than when you do it?" He smirks at you, moving his hand faster, harder. You're fervently nodding again, his knuckles curling up inside of you, your hands now suddenly twisting into his shirt as your hips tilt up to chase it. He shifts slightly other hand snaking around your thigh to wrap around and land his middle finger right on your throbbing clit.

At that your head falls back against the counter. Your eyes catch on sheer drapes, the breaks in the curtains that allow in golden sunlight. It felt so warm, burning up through his little kitchen, and then something else moves along your cunt. Something warm, something golden, fluid and intimate and when you look back down Eddie's head is between your legs.

He hums against you, the sound vibrating through you, his hand thrusting in and out of you, his tongue drawing circles into your clit. He glances up at you between thighs, dark eyes ripping a hole through you as his face burrowed inside of you. You feel the little movements of his tongue, every delicious stroke of his fingers and all at once it's too much. You grip the edge of the counter, you grip your own thigh, nails tearing through skin as your foot nearly kicks him off of you. "Eddie." You moan, head falling back in ecstasy, body clamping down around his hand as your cum. It's blinding, it's the sunlight between gaps, it's the timer screaming at you. He swallows it down like sweet nectar, lapping every sugary piece you'll give him through your orgasm. He continues, runs his tongue along you, uses it to push into your clenched cunt to run smoothly along the walls of it, letting it flutter around him. "The..." You try. "The...Eddie." You pant.

"What's that?" He mutters into you, his nose brushing your clit.

You shake your head to clear it. "The cakes." You exhale breathlessly.

"Fuck the cakes." He lazily licks at you, body blazing with the feel of it and you almost agree with him, but again the noise of the timer blares down at you. He groans and pulls away from you finally shutting it off. You watch him in silence pull them from the oven as you catch your breath before sliding off the counter to pull your pants back up. He turns back to you with a smug expression, "I knew you'd taste better."

He comes up to you, hands on either side of you, chin still glistening with your pleasure. The warm scent of cake engulfs you, grounds you enough to bring your fingers up his jaw to tug him back towards you. You hesitantly inch your face upward until your top lip grazes his bottom, and then you kiss him. It's gentle where the first had been hasty, it's sweet where the first had been tooth-achingly rotten. You meld your lips to his own, sliding your tongue along his bottom lip tasting the tangy remnants of you. His hand comes up to your jaw, tilting you backwards, allowing you the part in his lips to glide your tongue inside his mouth swallowing the bittersweet taste of his spit. "Agree to disagree." You smile into his mouth. "We must go to the next step in this process."

"My bedroom is that way." He points over his shoulder.

You shove him away playfully. "The recipe you pervert."

"Fine." He grumbles.

You walk around his counter where the groceries had spilling in the throes of passion. "This part is fairly easy." You sigh relieved as you pick up the closed container of strawberries and can of whip cream. "Just need to chop these up." You push the container across the counter towards him. "You may do the honors my dear sous-chef." You go back around towards the tins of sponge cake poking them gently with a finger; they seemed done enough, you did worry when you popped them out the bottoms were slightly burned in your distraction.

You hear the quiet slice of a knife. "How do you picture your life?" He asked, he's cutting them too thick, but you find it doesn't quite matter all that much. "Nice home, nice husband, nice kids?"

"I suppose so." You weigh it in your head. "Maybe after college."

"How many kids?" He continues before you can answer, "Four sounds like a good number."

You laugh preposterously, "Four! Why stop there? Give me eight, we'll have a whole sports team at our disposal." He glances up at you a little more hopeful that amused. "Why don't you focus on graduating before expanding your roster."

He grumbles, "Fine."

You tilt your head to the side studying him in an untroubled air. "And is my husband some covert drug dealer?"

"Do you want him to be?" He peers up at you. You only give him an easy smile, "So college, what did you plan on majoring in? For something culinary?" You move to grab the tins of cake, popping them individually out of their holes onto a larger plate. Your backs are to each other as a plan for the future is formed in a secret language.

You search for a small knife to slice them in half, 'No this is a fun space, I wouldn't like to mix work and pleasure." You carry the tray of sliced up sponge cake to slot next to all of his sliced-up strawberries. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "Hoping the ole band will take off. Dunno hard to plan for something I don't know if I'll ever get to."

You nodded knowing he'd get there, 'That's right, you play...guitar? Right?" You take his plate of strawberries motioning to his room, "Go play me something. I'll finish this up it's not too difficult to grasp spraying whip cream." He gives you a toothy smile and rushes off to the back of his home returning later with a guitar. You're staging the ingredients, popping the whip cream cap off as he returns.

"Any request?" He asked setting up shop on his coffee table as you spray out the whip cream on half of the cut-up sponge cakes. You shake your head, and as you set the can down, he begins to play. You don't recognize the song at all, a strange quick melody but knowing him it had to be some form of metal. You have a soft smile on your face as you arrange the strawberries on the bed of cream between sponge cake.

His series of hypothetical thoughts begins to seep into the seams as easily as cream on cake, sopping up the mushy inside of it until reality blurred and you begin to form a delusion. Of a life with him, of children running underfoot, of him playing gentle music as an oven roared behind you. A little sweet life with an imperfect boy. You thought of your absent father, of his inconsiderate one, and figured you two could meet in the middle to find some version of normal.

The room comes back into focus, Eddie is still strumming along to some tune, and you blame the orgasm for your dreamy heart filling your head with false fantasies. "They're done." You say and he glances up at you with a calm expression. He sets his guitar down and bounds towards the awaiting treats prettily sitting on the plate. You pick one up as he does, take a bite as he does with eyes locked. It's fine, nothing special, you've made better.

"These are great." He exclaims shoving half of it in mouth.

You chuckle, "You need to expand your palate." You set it back down on the plate.

"I thought you tasted just fine." Your cheeks burn at the feel of his tongue lapping you up watching his tongue dart across those very same lips. His hand reaches out, thumb sliding along the corner of your mouth, and when he pulls back a residue of whipped cream sits on the pad of his thumb.

He sucks it into his mouth, "I uh..." You're unable to avert your eyes. "I just meant I make the whip cream myself, and the can just doesn't compare."

He is lost in you, a serene smile on his face, content to look at you forever. "Sweet girl, have I told you how much I adore you."

"You mentioned it once or twice." You chew on your lip to hide the smirk, the fluttering echoing in your stomach, your chest beneath his intense gaze.

He kisses you again, two hands cupping your face, mouth pressed against yours relishing in the simple feel of your mouth on his, the flavor of strawberry shortcake shared between two lovers.

When you close the front door of your house, you can't wipe the grin off of your face, can't hide the dazed eyes of overwhelming affection. You barely notice your younger brother until he yanks the cord to turn the lamp on. "Dustin!" You nearly drop the tray of half of today's baking efforts, begging Eddie to keep most, especially for his uncle.

"You've been gone a while." He tells you.

"We," You close your eyes finding an excuse, "lost track of time."

Dustin steps closer, examining your face beneath light, the tray in your hands. Then he sighs, defeated hands hanging limp at his side, "Don't take my friend away from me." You want to make it clear he had been yours first, that Dustin wouldn't even know Eddie if not for you. But at the end of the day, you were a big sister, you hadn't been a full person until you became a big sister. So, who else if not him.

"Dusty," Your heart sinks as you hurry to set the tray down and take his hands in your own. "I would never."

Dustin scoffs, "You already have, he never stops asking about you, even last night, I knew he was only coming here to see you."

You weren't dating, you probably should slap some label on it since the intimate part of a relationship had begun, but he didn't ask, neither did you. The harsh marks hidden on your neck felt claiming enough, and you move forward with that knowledge. "That isn't true." You lie. "He loves that game as much as you, look how upset he got when I took you early that one night." His eyes perk up a bit, "Who knows?" You rub a soothing hand down his arm, "Maybe you'll get to see him more now."

"That's all find and dandy, but what about when it's not." He was too smart for his own good. You only frown in response, at the logical reason your brother had. "If I lose him because of you, I will never forgive you, and if he hurts you, I may have to send Nancy Wheeler after him."

You try to chuckle, "Okay, I will take that into consideration...for his safety." The corner of his mouth twitches up, and you pull him into your arms, "He made me strawberry shortcakes."

Dustin pulled back, "He baked for you? Were they laced?"

"No," You actually laugh that time. "They were okay, could have used less time in the oven if you ask me."

Against Dustin's logical observation he is glad Eddie lingers more often, finding excuse to hang around your locker at the end of the day which always just ended up with you inviting him over for an early dinner. He always helps you make desert, sneaking in spoonfuls behind your back. Your mother enjoys him enough, not digging too much into his past to judge him. She trusted Dustin and your choice in company, and you had a strange feeling being around the pair of you was invoking a change in Eddie Munson.

You had heard through the grape vine he was no longer selling drugs, at least to anyone you knew of. You're not sure what brought on the sudden shift in priorities, but a strange sapping feeling splotched along your skin feeling it was because of you.

When you walk into your usual spot in the library he sitting there sketching some strange design for his club. His head perks up when he hears you coming, "Sweet girl." He smiles patting the chair next to him.

"Ms. Kelley thinks we don't need to meet anymore." You tell him sliding into the chair. "I told her I'd leave that up to you."

"Smart girl because I decline." He sits up straighter. "Actually, I accept and let's move these study dates to my house."

You roll your eyes, "No. That is a recipe for disaster."

"The only recipe I am more well versed in than you." His hand rubs up and down your thigh. "Come on eight kids takes a lot of time, we should get started now."

You grab his hands, "Eddie, I will kill you if you make me have eight of your wild haired freak babies."

He smirks yanking your chair closer to him to brush his nose against yours. "I love it when you say make babies."

"You're sick in the head," You grin against his teeth. He kisses you then, a gentle push of his mouth against yours, a hand stroking up your thigh. "Eddie," You whisper the warning.

"Shush." You glance beyond him at the empty library. "I can't even get to you." He pokes at the button on your jeans. "How rude of you."

You relax, running hands through his hair, "Sorry, not everyone can plan out their sexual escapades in advance."

"Oh." He reaches forwards with two hands grabbing you by the hips and tugging you forward until your stumbling onto his lap. "Just wait until the weather warms up and you'll be forced to wear little skirts and dress. I'll be living inside of you then sweet girl." He kisses your mouth again, and in the moment, you would let him lay you on the table and take you here. He knows it too, as your thighs rub together, as you whine into his mouth. "I'll see you tonight."

It is only 7:25 PM and you're driven up the wall with boredom. You try to watch whatever your mother is watching on the television, it's so dull you feel every tick of the seconds hand on the clock. You try to read but are unable to comprehend the words.

Tried and true, you find yourself in the kitchen measuring out cocoa powder for brownies. You find peace in baking, find it distracting while you wait for whatever is to greet you later tonight. Time passes fluidly like water in an hourglass as you shove the glass dish into the orange glow of the oven. "Don't you need to go pick up Dusty?" Your mother asked from the sofa the T.V. light mesmerizing her.

"Eddie said he'd drive him home." Your elbows slide against the counter.

She nodded, "Oh that is nice of him. I like that he's been coming around here a lot." You trace the speckles in the countertop waiting for her to continue. "He's cute."

You feign shock. "Claudia Henderson are you a cougar?"

"Hush." She laughs to herself. The room fills with a comfortable silence, her show some lull of background noise. You knew she was slightly prodding to get some dirty little secret out of you, but it didn't need to be all that serious. You push off the counter and take a seat on the sofa next to her trying to watch the sitcom she was watching. "I just mean...it's been nice getting to know him better if he's gunna be...around more."

You roll your eyes, "Spit it out woman."

"He's close with Dustin is all..." She side-eyes you. "And you."

"And me." You agree. That's all you give her, and she stops prying. You don't even try to attempt to pay attention as the front door flies open and it's Dustin.

Your mother smiles at him, "There's a plate for you in the microwave." He beams and saunters off as you shoot up to follow him.

"H-How uh...How was club?" You're unsure where to stand so you awkwardly lean against the fridge. Dustin raises his eyebrow at you, the tension deflates, "Did he ask for me at all when he dropped you off?"

"No." Dustin scoffed fishing out a fork. You peered out the front windows seeing no headlights and then look back at your brother grabbing his dinner plate out of the microwave taking it to the kitchen table. "Not everything is about you"

You nodded, "True, sorry." You sit in the chair across from him. "But really how was your club?"

He beams divulging into all the nitty gritty details of the campaign, the epic highs and lows, the crazy rolls and spells, every funny moment that even brings a laugh from your lungs. Before you know it he had finished eating, and the timer was beeping at you. "What did you make?"

"Brownies." You hiss as the oven mitt slips slightly singeing the tip of a finger. It clatters on the stove as you stick the digit in your mouth. "Mom probably has ice cream stashed somewhere." You're moving for the sifter pouring out that white powdered sugar through it to shake out onto the brownie. "It probably tastes so good while they're hot."

He's yanking open the freezer, "Oo when it gets all melty." You set aside the sifter and are already moving to find a knife to cut him a piece. "Thank you." He says as you slide it onto a new smaller plate for him. You watch him take up his seat again, small plate in one hand, carton of ice cream in the other and smile at him. His eyes go off onto the television to study whatever your mother was watching as you peel away heading back upstairs to your room.

The minute you close the door behind you a hand clamps over your mouth to stifle the scream you let out, "I've been up here for thirty minutes sweet girl."

Your body relaxes as you tug his hand off of your mouth to turn to him. "I was talking to Dustin." He doesn't care. "I made brownies." You offer, but he only wants one thing.

He brings your mouth to his walking you back into your room. You collapse onto your bed, his body hovering atop of yours tongue still managing to worm its way into your mouth, "You didn't eat any." He points out as it scoops at the deep set of molars searching for evidence. You open wider for him, let his mouth consume your own, let him steal air from your lungs as he roamed willingly around. Your right arm was wedged beneath him; your left was digging into his arm as he kept your face sealed to his own.

Your lungs seize as he licks into your mouth, refusing to come off of you two hands now clutching your face so hard a small breathless noise leaves you. You try to speak his name, but it's swallowed with your spit down his throat. Finally, you pinch him feeling his bottom lip slide upward, air finally slipping in. "Eddie." You gasp. He grinds his hips against your leg, his cock digging into the muscle of your thigh. With a dizzy head, you're thankful he finally takes his mouth off of yours if only to suck on the skin beneath your jaw. "Sorry for making you wait." Your hand goes to the back of his head.

"S'right." He mutters into your skin. "You're here now."

"Was the window..." A shutter as his tongue glides down your neck. "Window. Was it hard?"

He chuckles, the sound vibrating along your esophagus. "No. It was so easy to get to you." A shiver tip-toes down your spine. "I'm gunna touch you now." He repeats as his body shifts freeing your arm as he lays slightly beside you hand crawling under your shirt to cup a naked breast.

You bite your lip. He rolls your nipple between fingers, pinching it taut. "Ca-Can I touch you?"

"I need to get you wet first." Your brows crease but he's now the one crawling under your shirt the fabric stretched over his head as his mouth attaches to your nipple. He lays his head flat along your chest, and then he just stays there, tongue lazily licking the peaked bud. He sucks it into his mouth, lolling it against the bed of it, your fingers fisting into the sheets. His other hand is repeating the same action to your other breast, and every small movement of his tongue sends waves up heat between your legs. You tighten your thighs around him, trying to press yourself against him.

He comes off of you the hot air of his breath warming the soaked nipple beneath your shirt, but he only moves to the other one. He flicks his tongue against it, small little movements that makes your lids flutter close, then he snakes an arm around your back, pulling you tight, sucking it into his mouth. His mouth widens, teeth digging in, his body suddenly hitching up so high it nearly lifts you off the bed.

The noise of it stills him. There's a loud smack of spit as he breaks the suction. "Oh, this isn't going to work."

Your heart sinks, "What? What do you mean?" He pushes your shirt off of his head to stare down at you.

"Your bed is too loud." He whispers. A little flutter of relief. "Can we sneak over to my place?"

"No, my mom will kill me if she finds out." You glance down, the wetness from his mouth soaking through your shirt, his arm still gripping you and you wonder if he'll just steal you out the window regardless.

Eddie shakes his head, "I can't fuck you in this loud ass bed."

Blood drains from your head and pulses somewhere too far south. A torch between legs, "You..."

"I want to fuck you." His arm slides gently out from under you laying you flat on the bed. He leans over you, "I want to be inside of you." Your cheeks heat, he kisses the warmth. "I want to fill you with so much cum."

You swallow, "Oh." Your eyes dart beyond him, "We can um...do it on the floor."

"Is that what you want sweet girl?" His knuckle traces your hard nipple through the moist fabric of your shirt. "Would that be comfortable for you?" It was nice of him to ask, to consider you in this mundane decision. You did want this, him, you had since his long arms reached for brown sugar, since his fingers had fucked your mouth. It was a feverish need when it came to him, and you so badly needed this. "You gotta answer me before I take you on this springy bed so loudly Mrs. Henderson will surly never let me see you again."

You nodded.

He nipped at your ear, "Words, sweet girl."

"Yes, just...have sex with me on the floor."

His smile was wicked as he yanked you off the bed to deposit you on the carpet. "One sec." He ripped your blanket off of the bed and flung it outward spreading it over the length of where you would lay. He tapped his finger to his mouth, then grabbed a small throw pillow and chucked it onto the floor as well. He kneeled, setting it near the top of the blanket and motioned for you to lay down. "Okay?"

"Okay." You smiled. He helped you tug off your shirt revealing bruising breasts, then he dragged your pants and underwear off until you lay bare beneath him.

"So sweet." He kissed swollen lips before sitting up to remove his own shirt.

You shot up covering your breasts. "I forgot to lock the door!"

He climbs to his feet laughing to himself as he locked the door shucking off his own underclothes to toss in a pile near yours. He pushes your shoulder slightly to make you lay down again. You brace for something, instead his mouth gently caresses your own, instead you feel fingers trailing up your burning thigh. Two fingers graze along your soaked pussy, working you open until they slide into you letting your gaping mouth rest against Eddie's. He gives you little time to adjust to the intrusion as his fingers spread within you, stretching you, curling into you at an already quick pace. "I'm gunna make you cum once before, okay?"

You nodded, "O...kay." You bit your lip to stifle the moan.

His head moves down your neck, teeth grazing damp skin. "Do you want me to do it like this?" He thrust his hand along a soft spot you had never been able to reach, and the desire unravels at the idea of his cock doing the same thing. "Or with my mouth." He licks along your collarbone, sucking so hard to leave a mark.

"M-Mouth." You pant out letting his tongue lick at the heaving gap of muscle within your collarbone.

He smiled into your skin descending your body. His fingers stayed rooted deep inside of you as his mouth wrapped around your clit. It was heady, quick, to reach the goal he set for himself, but he wanted you to find your orgasm fast and you would. He drew circles into you with his tongue, quick flicks that made your hips buck into his face nails digging into his hair. You shoved your forearm into your mouth to stifle the noises threatening to fly out of you as he abuses your clit with his mouth. The heat is an inferno behind your naval, between your legs, and you peer down at the fire engulfing you in his molten brown eyes. He's focused on you, barely blinking besides the small twitch of his left eye. Your legs widen for him; he swallows you down fingers carving out a home for himself inside you, the all-consuming feeling speeding inward towards his touch.

You cum with a slacked jaw, parted lips, and his face cemented between your legs. It gushes out of you with clawed fingers and nail indents into the supple flesh of your ass. You feel the body of his tongue flattened over your cunt, his face burrowing further into you. In his haste, he had seemed in a rush, and now it appeared he refused to come off of you, his moan reverberating through your body. His hand pulls out of you to wrap under your thighs and tilt you up for him more, prodding your oversensitive clit with the apex of his tongue.

You whine into your radial bone giving his head a small shove and you suddenly feel teeth. He nips and you thrash beneath him biting so hard you feel the rush of blood. "Sorry." He plants a wet kiss to your bruised clit, your inner thigh. "You're too delectable." And even there he can't help taking a small bite out of you. He sets your hips right and pushes your knees apart coming to hover about you. "I'm gunna fuck you now."

You're not sure if the heat in your face is from the receding orgasm or the way his dark eyes take in your heaving chest while preparing you to take him. He waits a beat, waits for you to change your mind if you so choose. You chew on your bottom lip and nod with permission finally remembering he wished for the vocalization. "Okay." He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, cock nudging at your entrance. "Shouldn't we..." You blush trying to find the right way to phrase it. "Use something?"

"You're wet enough I think."

You still him. "No like a condom."

He scoffs, "No."

"Won't I...ya know..." You're pretty sure it takes more than one time, but every sex-ed class taught you it was every time.

"Oh yeah." He begins to push into you groaning out the rest of the sentence. "I'm hoping for it." You don't think, you can't, as he splits you open inside out. You feel every slow inch of him sliding further into you until there's nowhere else for him to go besides being nestled so deep. Your bedroom in dark, besides the small lamp sitting on at your bedside and yet that is even too bright. You squeeze your eyes, tense, fingernails tattooing Eddie's back. "Shh shh shh," He whispers into your neck. "Gotta be quiet for me sweet girl."

You chew on your cheek not realizing the little whimpers coming from you in the heat of the night. He stilled for a moment, letting your body relax around him, learning his fit and warping around it. It didn't hurt, not exactly, you supposed you had been wet enough, it was just an odd sensation of fullness that instead of words a moan comes out. "Sorry." You moan out again.

His deep laugh is muffled by every rise and fall of your chest. "Feel good?"

"Yes. I-!" You squirm beneath it. "Can't you move like-!" He answers with movement, with a slight pull backwards and a rocking forward motion with his hips. You open your mouth, the noise so involuntarily lingering up your throat his hand flies upward to clamp over your mouth.

"Bite down if you have to." His own words are a pant as each thrust grows quicker, harder. "I'm not stopping until you're full of cum."

You shook your head not risking to speak, he met your eyes hoping he could understand the message you were trying to convey. Please don't stop. You do bite down, as his cock slides against something so delicious it makes your vision blurry, your hips tilting to take him more.

"Fucking christ you're so-!"

"Shush." You hiss out into his warm hand tongue tasting your arousal still dripping down his fingers.

He slams into you hard, full force, a breath heaves from you and then he is relentless. You should have been more weary of the lewd slapping of drenched skin, but it feels too good to care. He licks his lips fighting more vulgar sentences knowing it would drive both of you crazy with every dirty utterances of your shared perversion.

He fits in every groove of you, fills you to the brim with every hard stroke of his cock. He straightens up, hand still secure over your mouth, watching the way your cunt swallows him in. "Take me so good, sweet girl." He can't help it, can't help reminding you where you belonged. His other hand goes to your clit pressing in so lightly, but even that has your back arching for him as you grit your teeth. "Gunna cum so deep, fill you up so much."

Your eyes roll back as you fingers grasp for purchase on your blanket. You probably shouldn't let him, but that was an after problem as your orgasm slammed into you. His name is strained on your lips, your body clenching around him the world dark as you squeeze your eyes tight. You squeeze him between your thighs, his hips smacking against your own with quick uncontrollable movement.

His palms comes off, but his fingers hook onto your bottom teeth unhinging your jaw as he spills inside of you with a strangled sound. He lands atop of you, elbow braced to keep most of his weight off of you. Your pussy throbs around him slightly in the aftershock causing his cock to twitch and spurt further into you making him hiss.

You run a hand down his frizzy hair, he kisses your cheek, sweat is a syrup, coating both of your skin. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You answer.

"Did it feel good?" He still won't pull out of you.

You don't mind. "Yes." You can't help the smile, "Really good."

He breaths you in. "You smell like sugar." He kisses the side of your mouth, your lips. "Don't have sex with anyone else."

You chuckle. "Wasn't planning on it."

He stares down at you. "Don't be with anyone else." He brushes damp hair away from your honey sweet sticky forehead. "You're with me now."

"Okay." You whisper and he finally pulls out of you.

He sits back on his heels between your legs, and you go to sit up, he puts a hand on your hip to stop you. "Hold on. I just wanna..." He doesn't finish the sentence, eyes transfixed on your cunt fluttering in the emptiness he had left you in. His head tilts, you cook under his intense eyes watching his cum slowly trail out of you. His mouth parts, two fingers reaching forward like a moth to flame, before he pushes whatever had come out back inside of you.

"Eddie." You gasp, but he pushes in, shoving it deeper until you wince. His hand retreats, eyes never leaving the substance he pulls back with his fingers.

His eyes flicker back up to yours. "So pretty." He clambers over you again, pulling you against him in an earnest kiss. Then he falls beside you on the blanket with a small peck pressed into your naked shoulder.

You sigh, "Sneak out in the morning."

"Why? I'll just come down for breakfast."

You huff a laugh. "Oh sure Claudia would simply love that, and to think she was starting to like you."

He perches onto an elbow, "She was?" You chew on your lip nodding. "Well then I must stay on her good side."

Eventually you climb to your feet to go clean yourself off in the bathroom. You don't bother with the light, not wanting to take in the damage you had let him indulge in as the worst of it slide down your thigh. You pad down the stairs quietly, the house silent beyond the loud pound of your heart rate.

Dustin had foiled your brownies for you. You smile for the kindness of your brother then rip it off to plop a hearty piece on a plate with two forks. You don't bother with ice cream not wanting to make the trek downstairs again to put it away. You scurry up back to you room just in time to see Eddie trying to ignite his lighter near the cigarette dangling between his lips.

"Eddie Munson!" You hiss in a whisper rushing over to him to smack it out of the open window. He watches it fall to the dark grass below before turning back to you, "My mother would smell it you...you..." You thwap him on the forehead with a finger. "Scoundrel."

He gives you a sarcastic look, "Clever." He pockets the lighter though taking in the brownie sitting on the small plate. He sighs but comes off your sill to slide onto the window seat below. You sit down across from him as he uses the second fork to pick at the desert. You watch him take a bite, watch his eyes close as he chews, as he swallows. "I need to know how to make these. You know how much money I could make if I put weed in them."

"I thought you stopped doing all that?" You hand him the plate to eat however much he wanted.

He sighed, "I slowed down." He picks at the brownies. "It's a process. Sometimes I forget."

"Why the sudden change?" You watch him push pieces around, the soft scrap of metal and glass until he glances up at you the answer in the same chocolate brown eyes. "Oh."

He shrugged it off, "I don't want you or Dustin getting mixed up in all of that."

You waved him off trying to fight the feeling of it all choking the air from the base of your throat. "Don't worry about us, we take care of our own."

His hand lands on your wrist. "No." He sets the plate aside and comes closer hand coming to cup your face. "I want to be your own." A stroke of his thumb, "There will be no one else for either of us." Your hand came up to cover his, the small smirk on his lips, "Well I guess we can keep Dustin too."

"He'd be rather hard to get rid of."

Eddie spends the night. You keep your door locked all night and set an early alarm to usher him back out of the window with the dawn. He sits on the pane awaiting a kiss even though he'd be seeing you once more in an hour or two. "Should I park in the driveway?"

"Yes." You nodded not even sure where he had tucked his van away when he snuck in. "I'm gunna take a shower." He glanced down at your bare neck emphasizing the problem; you nearly shoved him out of the window. "Cover myself, then start breakfast." He's tracing one of the larger marks he left. "You can come then, maybe like in an hour-and-a-half."

He sighs, "Can I cum in you again really quick?"

You scoff, "No." You do lightly shove him, but he stares at you with seriousness. "No, now go."

He grumbles but throws his legs over the window sill and begins to climb down. It did look rather easy when he did it. You hurry across the hall to shower the scent of sex off of your body. In the heat of the shower, as you cleanse last nights sins off it's hard to keep your hands from touching yourself again. With every trace of an affectionate bruise or claiming mark, your skin felt charged in areas that sent heat to your core. You were slipping your hand between your legs when a soft knock sounded.

"O-One sec!" You shouted and shut the water off. It was for the best, time was not on your side. You dry off quickly, wrapping yourself in a bath robe before flinging the door open.

Dustin is on the other side groggily rubbing his eyes. "Move." He stares at you before his eyes narrow in on your neck. "What is that?"

Your hand covers it, "Oh itching. Think something in the brownies set off an allergy."

"You don't have allergies." He pointed out.

You rush past him, "Exactly." You close your door softly behind you to not wake your mother yet and hurried to your closet to find something. How incredibly irresponsible to engage in such guilty pleasure that would surely get you in trouble. The worst of it was beneath your neckline thankfully; you find something, a sort of mock turtleneck shirt and jeans using makeup to cover the rest.

Dustin isn't in the kitchen when you get down there and maybe it's adrenaline but you are quick to pull everything out you needed to make food. It feels easy to fall into that routine, safe, a way to busy idle hands. You almost forget the events of last night as you mash up bananas for the pancake batter, you barely remember the way his cock slid into you as you crack eggs. You definitely don't remember how warm it felt to sleep within his arms, how his chest settled so nicely into your back, how his light snores of deep sleep lulled you into your own.

You were falling so hard for the boy, and for some reason, the way he looked at you last night as the reason for his change in behavior, well it certainly felt reciprocated.

You glance at the clock on the stove knowing it was well past time enough for him to knock or call or whatever his plan was, but it was silence, and now that surety was festering into insecurity. Dustin bounds down the stairs already trying to fish out a stray piece of bacon. You slapped his hand away, "Hey I have blackmail."

"Oh yeah?" You roll your eyes. There was no way-!

"Eddie was here last night, wasn't he?" You whip your head on him so fast, the muscle pulls and you have given yourself away. "Hah! I knew it." He steals a piece of bacon and leans against the counter watching you glare at him rubbing out the kink in your neck.

Then, you sigh putting your head in your hands. "What gave me away?"

He laughs at you, "Just now. It was a theory, but you have guilty written all over you." He takes a crunchy bite, "Also you have a dirty plate in your room with two forks."

"Shit." You hiss. At least he didn't say you were loud because that would have been mortifying. There was no point in lying, "He was supposed to come by this morning."

Dustin takes in the situation, takes in your stooped posture over the stove flipping pancakes. "He could have fell asleep waiting. Eddie's not good with time." He holds back the fact that the past few weeks Eddie had been great with time unless it was deliberate.

Your mother comes down the stairs before you could wallow in self-pity any longer. "I made coffee." You point to the fragrant pot as she rubs an affectionate arm down your back.

"So sweet." She goes to the cabinet to pull down a mug. "Want a cup?" You nodded and she pulls down a second, a souvenir from Dustin's summer camp that was decorated as a beaker. She makes it how you like it, splash of cream and a spoonful of sugar.

The doorbell rings and with it your heart pounds too fast in your chest. "I'll get it." Dustin says all too giddy, your mother watching him with furrowed brow handing you a filled coffee cup. You listen too intensely to Dustin's footfalls towards the front door, the sound of the lock turning, the doorknob rotating, the hinges swinging open. "Eddie! What are you doing here?"

He'd make a horrible actor. "To see you little Henderson." Eddie replies and you hear the sweet rustling of his hand on your brother's hair, "Also my girlfriend." You nearly drop the mug to the ground at that word and stare at your mother bewildered, she just smirks at you over the rim of her own cup like a smug cat.

"Take your shoes off." Dustin instructs then making his way back into the kitchen where he stares at you expectantly.

Eddie rounds the wall into the kitchen the next second holding a small bouquet of snapdragons. "Hi sweet girl." You give him a sheepish smile before he turns to your mother. "These are for you Mrs. Henderson." She sets down her mug and takes them from him sniffing the soft petals. "Made sure it's safe for your cat."

"How considerate of you Eddie." She pats him twice on the chest then goes off to find a vase.

"Girlfriend?" You mouthed loudly at him.

He shrugged, "I thought I was pretty obvious last night."

"Yes, let's talk about last night." Dustin cuts in.

Eddie looks at you, then to your brother, then back to you. "I knew I should have smothered you with that pillow." You cringe.

"Disgusting." Dustin covered his ears and walked off. "Don't swindle me again Eddie Munson, I don't like being used."

Eddie rolled his eyes taking steps towards you until his hands slid around your waist. "He got a free ride from a long uninterrupted campaign, he should enjoy being swindled more often." He peered behind you, "It always smells so good in here." He takes in your face then shifts mouth going to the apple of your cheek before sucking the skin into his mouth, tongue licking along heating flesh until you hear him swallow. "You had batter on your cheek."

"Thanks." You breathe up at him.

"I get so fucking hard when I watch you bake." He kisses your mouth.

You smile against his lips, "So domesticating."

He pulls you tighter to him. "Let me fuck you please I need to cum inside you." You giggle and shake your head peeling yourself from him to plate the rest of the pancakes and turn off the stove.

"Sit." You snap your fingers at the table. He follows along, sitting next to Dustin as you set the food on the table. Your mother comes up from the basement with a pretty green vase to set at the center of the table. You take a sip of your coffee as you watch her take her normal spot.

She smiles at everyone, "I love when the table is this full."

Dating Eddie Munson was nothing short of intense. You barely remember what alone time was as he consumes every moment with you. It was a well of need he knew all too well how to satiate. You took it any chance he'd give it to you; in every intimate way your brains could conjure. It was sitting at your kitchen table watching you bake only to be in your room via the window by the time you finished cleaning up to fuck you senseless, his cum coating the inside of you.

That would be fine, you enjoyed it more than you probably should every time his spend warmed the walls of your cunt. It would be fine, except Dustin had weaseled his way into your relationship, and you didn't have the heart to force him away from his friend. Every car ride, he joined. Every impromptu trip to the store for another bag of sugar, he climbed into the back seat. He found ways to steal Eddie away from you in the form of campaign plans and nerdy endeavors you encouraged because your brother's smile was so genuine. You figured with time the thrill of this new relationship would simmer into something comfortable, but time passes and you still burned in a way no freezer would chill.

So, you hatched a plan to prevent your brother from interrupting your time in a way no feelings would be hurt. "I'm spending the night at Natalie's house." A horrid lie, your mother is none the wiser.

"Do you want me to drop you off?" She ask. She didn't like you having the car overnight.

"No uh-I'll walk." She eyes you suspiciously. "It's light out still I'll make it there okay." You knew where he lived but weren't quite sure how far it was by walking. She didn't need to know that. "I'll call when I get there."

She smiles, Dustin narrows his eyes at you as you exit the living room. You picked up your small bag by the door and left before the nerve got the better of you. You walk for ten minutes watching the rows of houses disappear, another seven minutes and the sign for Forest Hills is in sight under yellow lights. The grin grows, your pace picking up slightly as you enter searching for the familiar sight of his van to guide you towards him. You walk along the gravel path with purpose, with excitement.

You step up on the small stoop and knock on the door. A minute later the door is unlocking and Eddie stands there with a confused expression, then his eyes light up. "Sweet girl." He tugs you inside, into him kissing your mouth, your cheek, your temple. "What are you doing here?"

"Spending the night at Natalie's." You chuckle. "Can I borrow your phone?" He leads you to it, lets you dial the familiar number to let your mother know you were safe and sound and would see her in the morning. The minute you hang it up his hands are on your hips tugging you backwards, burying his face into your hair, hands roaming up your body.

"You smell like raspberries." He mutters as his thumb grazes the underside of your breast. "What's in the bag?"

Your breath stutters, "I don't know. I threw random stuff in to look convincing."

He smiles against your temple. "So you knew you'd be here naked."

"It may have crossed my mind." You tilt your head back against his shoulder exposing your neck to him which he dives down to attack with soft lips. "You gunna take me to your bedroom now?"

"Not even an attempt at small talk? Are you using me for sex?" He's leading you anyways, down the hall, towards his mess of a room. You don't even bother to take in the details, simply spin around to attach your mouth to his own.

You run hands around the back of his neck, interlocking fingers at the base of his skull. "You're right we should absta-!" Your body is flying backwards until it falls into a bed of sheets and blankets and stray pillows. You're laughing as he climbs over you, and you think that that was the biggest perk of this long-winded acquaintanceship. It left little room for the unknown; all it took was a small kiss, maybe a few fingers in your mouth to push it into something new.

Before his mouth descends on your own you grab him by the sides and flip him over. He raises a brow at you watching you shift down his body, "Don't." His hand shoots out to your shoulder but you're slipping out of his grasp to unbutton his pants.

"You never let me." You pout pulling his half hard cock out of his jeans and running a soft hand down it.

"It's a waste of cum if you swallow it." His head falls back though growing firmer with every stroke of your palms. You scoff at his logic and wrap your mouth around the tip. The precum makes the taste of him salty, you're humming along anyways taking him to the back of your throat. "Fuck." He hisses, the tip of him brushing a part so deep you nearly gag.

You pop off, "Then don't cum."

He glares at you, then with a large hand to your skull he pushes you back down onto him. You smirk against his cock, sucking him in tighter tongue flatten along the base of him. "Take it so good, don't you?" He keeps moving your head to suck him faster, your hand going around his shaft to stoke what your mouth cannot. "Want my cum so bad huh?" You moan against him tongue swirling around the head as you take him deeper to the point you do gag. Tears burn at the corner of your eyes, spit traveling down towards your wrist. He tries to buck his hips up, to do it again, and you let him. You'd let him flip you onto you back and use your mouth if he so pleases, the wetness was soaking through you, nonetheless. "I"m..." He grits his teeth at you. "Okay you have to stop I don't want to cum in your mouth."

You want to tell him you have all night, you have your whole lives really to fuck, you wanted to give this to him. Instead, you suck in your cheeks sealing him into your warm mouth. Your hand swirls around him spit and precum helping him glide so easily in your palm. You tighten your grip, teeth grazing gently and he twist his hands in your hair pulling you harshly off of him. Spit pulls in a string, dribbling from your mouth, and he almost looks sad to have pushed you off of him, "Did I..."

"No," He pleads. "No, you're so hot ugh so good, too good." He sits up. "I want to be inside of you." In the quiet of his room, you peel off your pants and underwear and climb over him. His hands go to your hips to help you slide down too easily onto his weeping cock. "Does sucking my cock get you that wet?" He groans out burying himself to the hilt inside of you.

You sigh blissfully, "You get me that wet." You roll your hips along his, letting his cock hit every groove within you. With a claw inside his heart, you rock against him, deft fingers finding your clit between bodies. It makes your movements stutter and stumble forcing you to steady yourself with two hands on top of him.

"Bend down." He demands and you're quick to lean over him. He nudges your face gently to the side sucking on the exposed skin of the base of your neck using his other hand to hike up your shirt. You pull up on him, leaning more forward for him letting him thrust himself back into you, his mouth attaching to your breast. You bury your face into his hair as his tongue swirls around the bud, fingers pressing circle into your clit.

You slam a hand into his back wall to work yourself up and down along his cock as he lavishes your breast, your clit. You whimper for him; you squeeze his shoulder blade, the pressure building behind your gut. His teeth nip at your nipple; he licks a path across your sternum to the other breast bobbing along his mouth with every quicken movement of your hips. You're so close and in your haste to cum you shift back letting his whine echo around the room. You don't care as your chase your pleasure, as you grind him against something soft and delicious inside of you. With two hands resting on his thighs, and his thumb working your clit, you cum around his cock, movement so uncoordinated he's moving your body, rolling you onto your back. Your eyes are closed, but you feel the room spinning until a mattress is under you.

He doesn't give you a moment, just shoves your leg upward and against his shoulder to drive his cock in deep. You're still reeling, breathless disorientated, your hip bones groaning while he pushes your other leg perpendicular to your body, your pussy greedily sucking him in tightly. "That's my girl." He looks down to where his cock disappears inside of you. "Look how good you take me." He's slow, methodical, purposeful with his movements letting ever sick wet glide of his cock squelch with every soft gasp past parted lips. "Pussy was made for me, made to take my cum."

You mumble out gibberish, incoherent, the pleasure shooting up through you again. "Eddie." You whine.

"Shh, shh I know." He coos a hand going to your clit. "Gunna fill you up so soon sweet girl. That's what you want right? For me to cum so deep you'll feel me dripping out of you for weeks." You can't find the words to responds as your mouth falls open fingers grasping at his shirt, hips tilting to feel him fuck that spongey part inside your cunt as he presses in on your clit. "Cum for me first sweet girl, love how tight you get when you cum, milks it right out for me."

He leans down then to kiss you finally, stealing the breath from your airless lungs. You're gasping out into his mouth, panting his name like some mantra, your naval gives a tug, toes curling inward. Your throw your head back, lips parted against his sweaty forehead clamping down around him when you cum. It squeezes and gushes around his cock slipping him against your cervix with every quick thrust. It's brutal and unforgiving and soon with one last flutter of your pussy he's pounding in deep spilling inside of you.

His body slacks slightly as he continues to push it in, faint shoves of his twitching cock until there's nothing left. He's kissing the side of your head in sloppy wet movements of his mouth as you rasp against his skin. "You need to stop cumming inside of me Eddie." You tell him.

"You like it." He huffs at you finally pulling out. He takes his place between your thighs hand cupping your cunt to keep his spend safe inside. "Like being claimed."

"It's messy." You remind him. "It's troublesome and risky." He rolls his eyes at you and takes his fingers to shove it in deeper. You slap at his bicep with a laugh. "You need to stop, you freak."

He smirks down at your cunt sucking in his cum coated fingers. "You like it." He takes them out and is quick to shove them past your parted lips. "Come on, taste my hard work, be a good girl." You taste your own pleasure; you taste his too and the sultry broil burns deep in your stomach for the sick act. Your tongue darts out, swirling around his digits as the careless moans exits your throat. "My sick and twisted sweet girl." He slowly removes his fingers wiping the spit off on the bottom of his shirt.

"It's messing up my periods Eddie."

His head whips around at you so fast a strange triumphant gleam in his brown eyes. "Really?" He loses focus seeming to be doing his version of math in his head, he's surprisingly good when he wanted to be. "You're late?" You nodded with a furrow in your brows. "Should we..."

You shove him away laughing too hard at the concern on his face. "I'm not pregnant you lunatic." You gather up your underwear and climb off his bed to waddle to the bathroom.

He scrambles after you. "Well, you don't know for sure." He watches you with sad eyes cleaning up the cum trickling out of you, disappointed he can't keep it all inside. Wasted. He would say.

"I do know for sure." You shake your head unable to stop laughing at this ridiculous notion of letting him actually knock you up. When he doesn't respond you glance up at him, "I was able to get birth control from a clinic without Claudia knowing. I got on it after we had sex the first time." You pull your underwear back up your thighs thankful they had given you an emergency contraceptive after that accident. "But they said it could make me irregular as my body adjust to it."

Eddie frowns, hand coming up to splay along your ribcage the blind intent swirling as he stares down at where his hand touches you in the adoration. "Eddie." You breathe tilting your head to the side.

His fingers trace your empty womb. "I want to be with you forever." He peeks up at you, "I want our little football team."

You smile and cup his cheeks, "You hate sports."

"I don't hate you." He sighs, resigned to your logic. "Figured I would have to marry you if I knocked you up, ya know, honor and all." He chuckles then lets his hands come around your head. "You, and your mom, and Dustin it's so normal. I want normal. I want that pretty little life you sell me on every day." Your brows furrow, "My sweet girl making me cookies, coming home from work, trying to kiss you over a growing belly. Since meeting you, I remember what it is to dream, to want more for myself, for you."

It was a pretty picture. "Is that why you've been..."

"Actually, applying myself? Yes." He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Should have never helped you with that goddamn brown sugar, been lovesick ever since."

You edge forward, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Oh, you beautiful fool."

He breathes out of his nose, nudges it against your own. "I know. I'm ...impatient." He pulls back to stare down at you, "So you're saying if I did get you pregnant, you'd marry me?"

You just laugh again and brush past him. "You're ridiculous Eddie Munson." You head towards his kitchen. "I'll consider your unromantic offer once you actually quit smoking. It's bad for the babies."

"I did quit." He leans against the fridge watching you pull out a bottle of water.

You glare at him playfully, "I can taste it on you, smell it on you." You close the fridge and point at his coffee table. "Also, might want to clean up the ashtrays before your girlfriend comes over."

"Those aren't mine." He says quickly then stomps his feet like the child he so badly wanted to have. "Fine ugh, I'll quit for you." He follows you over to his couch, sitting beside you, tucking you under his arm, taking a drink of your, well his, water bottle.

You can't help but smile at him, remember that strange string of question he had asked in this very same house. "I know one more person who might be happier than you if you stuck around forever." He waits for you to keep going. "Dustin."

Eddie gave a joyous gasp. "Our actual first child."

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes.

notes: s'cute. honestly the softest thing I've ever written. first time i think no one was rly that morally grey lmao let me know what ya'll think!!

cake divider by: @whor3ing bow divider by: @cursed-carmine

[entrenoussir]

Back to Friends - Johnny Storm x Reader - One Shot

College is a time for freedom & experimentation, but one evening you admit to your best friend Johnny Storm that you have not actually taken advantage of any of that. In fact, you’ve never even had sex. Desperate to rip off the bandaid with someone you completely trust & feel safe around - you ask Johnny if he’ll have sex with you.

a/n - long time no post, team !! life has been crazy but this has been in my drafts for a hot minute & I finallyyy got around to editing it !! I hope you enjoy. haven’t written Johnny in a hot minute & so this was semi-self indulgent. also I originally had this titled something different but I do love me some sombr so that felt appropriate.

tw/cw - discussion of loss of virginity, actual losing of virginity, oral (f! Receiving), fingering, actual sex, no use of y/n

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The flickering light of a street lamp outside your dorm window cast long, intermittent shadows across Johnny’s face as he lounged on your floor. He was sprawled out, balancing a textbook on his stomach while tossing a tennis ball up toward the ceiling, catching it with a rhythmic thwump that was usually soothing - but tonight was driving you up the wall.

"So," he started, breaking the silence, eyes tracking the ball's ascent. "Physics final, huh? That shit was brutal.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Destroy or be destroyed?"

"Destroyed," you groaned, burying your face in the pillow you clutched against your chest. "I’m pretty sure I just blacked out for the entire second half of the exam.”

“Oh come on.”

“I’m serious. If I don't pass, I’m moving to a remote island. No people, no physics, just coconuts.” You flopped back dramatically. “Remember me fondly when you’re the world’s greatest astronaut.”

Johnny chuckled, a warm sound that always pleasantly filled whatever room he was in. He sat up, tossing the book towards his backpack and jacket where they sat on the floor nearby before crawling over and kneeling by the edge of your bed where you’d planted yourself.

"You’ll be fine. You’re smarter than half the professors here - easy. And besides," he grinned, that knee-weakening, lopsided grin that had gotten him out of trouble - and into girls' beds - more times than either of you could count, "who else is going to keep me grounded when I’m floating in zero-G?"

You rolled onto your side, propping your head up on your hand to look at him in the dim light. Most of the time you tried not to think about it, but he truly was infuriatingly handsome. Even in a faded NASA t-shirt and grey sweatpants. It was unfair, really. You’d been best friends since you were kids - from neighborhood antics to being practically attached at the hip through elementary, high school, and now college. You’d watched him grow from a scrappy kid into a young man who could charm the pants off anyone. Usually literally.

“You’ll find someone else to help with all that.” You replied, shrugging his words off. “Pretty sure you could put out applications for your future person-in-the-chair role and have the position filled by eight am tomorrow.”

Johnny gave you a deeply dramatic frown. “Find someone else?”

“Pretty sure that’s what I said.”

“But you’re the only one I trust to help me out in the deep recesses of space,” he sat back on his heels, cocking his head slightly.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Surely other people would be way better suited to that sort of position.”

“If I had to guess, I’d say you’re probably well-suited to a lot of positions.” He grinned cheekily, eyes sparkling with mischief. “More than you’d give yourself credit for.”

The heat of a blush crept up your neck at what he was implying, and you glanced away to focus on a loose thread on your comforter. “Sure, Johnny.”

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, sweetheart.” He laughed, apparently semi-oblivious to your discomfort. “I’ve seen how guys look at you.”

“They don’t look at me.”

“Yeah, they do. I’ve seen it. And from what I’ve overheard, they’d like to do a lot more than just look.”

Frustration bubbled inside your chest, creating an uncomfortable pressure just beneath your ribcage. If any guys want to sleep with you, they hadn’t really made a move in the several years you’d been at college. Or if they had, you’d been quick to shut them down and avoid speaking to them further. At first, it was because none of their advances felt right - or like something that would be a long-term arrangement. Not that there was anything wrong with hookups or one-night-stands - in fact, you were a bit jealous of people like Johnny who could enjoy them with ease - but they just weren’t what you were looking for.

Plus, if you were physically involved with someone - even if it was just making out and some light groping - you’d already come to realize that the only way you were able to fully relax and enjoy it was if you trusted the other person. The handful of drunken make out sessions you’d had in the last few years only felt okay if you’d actually built up a rapport with the guy. If you hadn’t, the whole exchange just felt… Empty. Unsatisfying.

“Well, I’m not really looking for the same things they are.”

“Then what are you looking for? Maybe I can help. I know a lot of -“

“Most of them are just looking for a casual fling, Johnny.” You interrupted. “And that’s not really what I want.”

“Yeah, and that’s okay,” he thought for a moment. “I know a few guys that aren’t total commitment-phobes. I could set you up.”

“Thanks, Johnny. But I’m not a charity case.”

“It’s not charity - I just want you to be happy and have some fun. Safely and consensually, of course.”

“Hey, I have fun.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. When was the last time you had fun with someone? And how much fun did you actually have?”

“I don’t see how my sex life affects you.”

“I’m just trying to make sure my best friend has a good time during her wild and carefree years.” Johnny grinned, but the action made more heat rise to your face. It felt as though your entire body was on fire under his gaze, and that you’d do something stupid if he didn’t get out of your dorm immediately. “So when was it? Bonus points if you tell me who.”

Silence engulfed the room as he waited for your answer. You could lie to him - something you never did - and say you’d had a few random flings just so he’d shut up about it. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth, and a small part of you was deathly afraid that he’d judge you. After all, he’d been with plenty of women and - if your inadvertent eavesdropping was to be believed - was very good at what he did.

You exhaled, still avoiding his stare. "Can I tell you something without you making it a whole thing?"

Johnny’s expression softened instantly. The playfulness slid out of his posture, replaced by a focused intensity. He climbed up next to you on the bed, making the room feel far smaller. "Of course. Always. You know that."

You took a deep breath, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest from how fast it was beating against your ribcage. Breathe. This was Johnny, for goodness sake. The one person who knew everything from your fears and dreams to your coffee order by heart. But this felt different. This conversation felt like exposing a raw nerve.

"I..." You paused, licking your suddenly-dry lips. "I’ve never… I haven’t done that yet. Had sex."

The silence that followed wasn't the comfortable, companionable quiet you were used to. It was heavy. Johnny stared at you, his eyebrows drawing together slightly as he processed your words. His eyes had widened, and for a terrifying second, you thought he might laugh. Or worse, look at you with pity.

Then, he let out a breath, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Wow. Okay. I honestly... I didn't really expect that."

"It’s not like, a religious thing or whatever," you rushed to explain, feeling the need to justify your actions. "It just never… The guys I dated never felt right. Or the timing was off or something -“

“Hey, breathe -“

But you were rambling, and there was no amount of soothing words Johnny could say to stop you. “And now suddenly I’m a senior and it’s like I’m carrying around a giant neon sign that says 'inexperienced loser', and -“

"Hey," Johnny snapped gently, shifting closer so his knee knocking lightly against yours. "Stop right there. You’re not a loser. You’re selective. There’s a difference. You just decided you respect yourself enough not to just hand it over to the first frat guy who buys you a beer. That’s cool. And even if you did do stuff like that, it’d still be good because it’s your choice.”

His reassurance helped a tiny bit, but it didn't quell the knot of anxiety in your stomach. You looked at him, and for a moment it felt like you were truly seeing him. Johnny Storm was your best friend. Always had been. He was safe, understanding, and the two of you knew one another better than anyone else. In that moment, you realized that he was the only person in the world you trusted implicitly.

"You’ve been with a lot of women.” It wasn’t a question or an accusation, but a statement of fact.

Johnny hesitated, a little flustered. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze for a split second before looking back at you with a resigned sigh. "Yeah. I mean... I'm not keeping a tally or anything, but... Yeah. A fair number, I guess.”

"Right," you whispered, dropping your eyes to your duvet again. The confirmation of your differing levels of experience hit you like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t as though he’d make fun of you for it or anything, but something about the conversation made you feel foolish. "Of course."

"Hey," he said again, softer this time. He reached out, his fingers hovering near your knee before he seemed to think better of it and pulled back. "The fact that you haven’t done that yet doesn't say anything about you, you know that, right? Everyone moves at their own pace."

"I know," you said, your voice sounding small. "But it just makes the whole thing feel bigger. I’m so terrified, Johnny. I’ve built sex up so much in my head that I feel… I dunno, paralyzed? I guess? Like what if I finally do it and it’s awful? What if it’s weird and uncomfortable and I’m terrible at it because I waited way too long?"

The panic was rising, bubbling up in your chest, and you were unable to stomp it down. You looked at him, desperate for him to understand your deep-seated fears. Even if he didn’t fully get it - he was still the one constant in your life. The singular person who made you feel safe even when the world was spinning out of control.

“It’s -“

"I don't think I can do it with a stranger," you blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“Huh?”

“I-I think I need it to be someone I trust. Someone who knows me. Someone safe, who..." You trailed off, eyes finally locking with his. "Someone like you."

Johnny froze. The playfulness and calm demeanor evaporated, replaced by an unreadable intensity. He didn't move, didn't blink. Fuck.

"Johnny?" you whispered, heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.

“Y-yeah?” The word came out rough and raspy, as if he’d been in the desert for a week.

"Would you... Would you have sex with me?"

Johnny blinked, the silence stretching thin and taut between you. Whatever strange expression he’d been sporting the moment before was replaced by a look of genuine bewilderment. He sat a bit, running a hand through his hair again - a nervous tic you’d seen a hundred times, but usually only before a huge test. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable.

“Shit, Johnny.” You scooted backwards, putting a bit of space between the two of you. “This is so stupid. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Forget I said anything, I -“

"Wait," he said, his voice pitching up slightly. "So you’re asking me to... Sleep with you? As in, right now?"

"I mean, no, not right this second.” You frowned. “But it’s fine, don’t worry about it -“

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t.” He stared at you, brow furrowing so deeply it created a shadow across his eyes. “But I need a bit to process this. Because I love you, you know that. You’re my best friend. But we’re... We’re us. We get pizza at 3 AM and argue over Mario Kart till the neighbors complain. We don’t... We don’t do..."

"I know," you said, guilt twisting your stomach. The heat in your face was unbearable now. Your own worries and insecurities had just ruined the one good, steady thing in your life. "God, Johnny, I’m sorry. Please just forget it. It was a stupid ask anyway -“

"No, stop," he interrupted, leaning forward. His expression softened, the concern overriding the confusion. "Don't apologize. I’m not saying no - I’m just trying to wrap my head around the logistics. If we do this... If we cross that line... We can't, like, uncross it, you know? And I don't want to screw up the dynamic we have. I’d rather die than make things weird between us."

"It wouldn't be weird," you lied, though you weren't sure if you believed it. "It would just be... A favor. Getting it over with. With someone I trust instead of fumbling around with someone who doesn’t give a shit.”

Johnny let out a long exhale, his gaze drifting over your face as if he was searching for the right answer in your features. "It’s not just about 'getting it over with,' though. Your first time is supposed to be... I don't know, special? Or at least not, like, traumatizing and terrible."

“Was yours?”

“We’re not talking about me right now.”

“I’m baring my soul - the least you can do is tell me if you had a good first time.”

He sighed, stubbing a hand over his jaw thoughtfully. “Fine. It was good. Over a bit too fast, but I was… Eager to please.”

A light laugh escaped your lips, though it did nothing to ease the tension. "I’m just… Scared, I guess. And at least I know you won't laugh at me, or keep going even if I beg you to stop. Which is my concern with other guys.”

That seemed to break through his hesitation. He reached out, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist to calm your fidgeting. "I would never laugh at you. And I would absolutely never ever make you do anything you didn't want to do. If you said stop - that’s the end of it.”

You looked up, meeting his eyes. There was no mockery or judgment. Just a fierce, protective warmth that made your throat tight.

"So?" you whispered. "Will you?"

Johnny studied you for a long moment. Then, a slow, small smile touched his lips. Not the cocky grin he flashed at the world, but something smaller, more private. "Yeah," he said softly. "I will."

"Really?"

"Really." He squeezed your wrist. "I’m sorry for kinda freaking out. You caught me off guard, that’s all. But if this is what you need... If you’re sure want me to be the one... Then yeah. I’m more than willing. I want to make it good for you. When do you want me?”

"Uh, Saturday night?" You suggested, heart skipping a beat.

"Saturday night," he agreed. "I’ll come over around eight. We can order dinner, hang out... Ease into it. And if you change your mind, we just eat pizza and play video games like normal. Deal?"

"Deal."

Johnny walked back to his dormitory later that night with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, the cool night air doing nothing to cool the heat in his cheeks. The city hummed around him - distant sirens, the thrum of traffic - but his mind was a chaotic swirl of thoughts.

She’s a virgin.

Even though he logically knew virginity was a social construct, the words echoed in his head, heavy and daunting. He’d been with plenty of women and absolutely knew his way around a bedroom - how to read cues, instances to be gentle or rough depending on what the moment called for. But this? This was uncharted territory. He wouldn’t just sleeping with any girl; he was sleeping with you. His best friend. The person who knew him better than anyone else on the planet and who he loved and cared about deeply.

And he had the potential to screw it up. Spectacularly.

He didn't want to be the guy who gave you a mediocre, boring first time. Or someone who made it awkward, painful, or - God forbid - traumatizing. If he fucked this up, it wouldn't just be as simple as a bad hookup; it would be a shift in the tectonic plates of your friendship. He could lose you. Not all at once, but slowly, as the awkwardness piled up until you were nothing but strangers. And that was something he simply couldn’t allow to happen.

By the time he unlocked his front door, he was already reaching for his phone and scrolling through his contacts, his thumb hovering over a name he both loved and occasionally feared in equal measure.

“Hello?” The voice was crisp and efficient, as always.

"Sue," Johnny said, collapsing onto his couch. "I need your help. And before you say anything, no, I didn't blow up another lab."

”I should hope not,” she said, though he could hear the smile in her voice. “What’s going on?”

"I have... A situation," Johnny began, pacing the length of his small dorm room. "With a girl. I mean, a friend. A friend who’s a girl. Fuck. Woman. A grown woman. Not a girl. She’s not underage or anything -“

“Tell me you didn’t get someone pregnant, Johnny.”

“Fucking hell, Sue. What kind of a question is that?”

“Probably a valid one, given your current state.”

“Okay, well it’s not like that. She’s definitely not pregnant. But she’s really important to me.”

“Oh?” Sue’s interest was piqued. “Go on.”

"She wants to... You know. With me. But she’s never... Uh..."

“Never what, Johnny? Use your words.”

"She’s never been with anyone," he blurted out. "She’s a virgin. And she asked me to be her first.”

“Virginity is a social construct, you know that right? It’s important to me that you know that.”

“Of course I know that, Sue. But like, your first time is still stressful and important.”

“So what did you tell her?”

“I mean, I said yes, obviously, because I’d do anything for her. But now I’m terrified I’m going to scar her for life or make things weird forever, and I have no fucking idea how to handle this.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Johnny held his breath, wondering if he’d made a mistake calling his older sister - his brilliant, emotionally mature, terrifyingly perceptive older sister - about this.

“First of all,” Sue said, her voice dropping to a more serious register, “I’m proud of you for not saying no just because it’s complicated. That’s a big step for you.”

"Gee, thanks," he muttered. "But seriously, Sue. What do I do?"

“You listen,” she said firmly. “This isn't about performance. It’s not about showing off or trying to be the best she’s ever had. It’s about making her feel safe. If she’s asking you, it’s because she trusts you implicitly. That’s a gift, Johnny. Don't treat it like a challenge.”

"I know," he said, raking a hand through his hair. "I just don't want to disappoint her."

“Then don't make it about you,” Sue said simply. “Ask her what she wants. What she likes. Take it slow. Foreplay isn't a suggestion; it’s a requirement. Make sure she’s comfortable and feels emotionally ready. And if she says stop, you stop. No questions asked.”

“Obviously. I’d never… I’d never be the type of guy who… Yeah. Okay.”

“And don’t forget - it’s not about the destination; it’s about the journey.”

Johnny exhaled. “Right. Of course.”

“And Johnny?”

"Yeah?"

“Be gentle with her heart,” Sue said softly. “That’s the part that’s easily broken.”

The mere thought of hurting your heart nearly broke his.

"I will," he promised. "Thanks, Sue."

“Anytime, little brother,” she said. “And try not to panic. You’re a good man. You’ll figure it out.”

She hung up, leaving Johnny alone in the quiet of his apartment. He stared up at the ceiling, the knot in his chest loosening just a fraction. He could do this. He would do this. Because you asked him to. And because, deep down, he knew there was no one else in the world he’d have wanted you to ask.

By the time Saturday evening rolled around, you had spent the last three hours in the bathroom - scrubbing, shaving, and exfoliating every inch of your skin until you felt raw. You had blow-dried your hair until your arms ached and applied makeup with a precision probably reserved for surgical procedures. While you recognized that Johnny likely didn’t care, there was a part of you that desperately wanted him to at least find you a little bit attractive. Surely that would make this whole weird situation feel better, right?

Now, you stood in front of your full-length mirror, staring at your reflection. Underneath a knee-length, pale blue satin robe, you wore the matching set of black lace that you’d bought months ago on a whim and never had the courage to wear. The bra was balconette-style lifting and shaping your breasts, the lace scalloped edges framing them perfectly. The underwear was high-cut and cheeky, leaving very little to the imagination while still managing to feel elegant.

You looked good. You knew you did. But beneath the hopefully sexy exterior, your nerves were a tangled mess of jagged wire, and you spent hours pacing the dorm.

The clock ticked to 8:00 PM, and a sharp knock echoed through your room. You took a deep breath and opened the creaking door to see Johnny standing there, smiling gently.

"Pizza delivery for the incredibly anxious," he held up the boxes in his hands. "I come bearing pepperoni and garlic knots."

Your heart skipping a beat as he stepped inside and nudged the door closed with his hip. He looked... Good. Unfairly good, as usual. He’d swapped his usual t-shirt for a dark gray henley that hugged his broad shoulders and tapered nicely at his waist, paired with dark sweats that were somehow worn in all the right places. His hair was slightly damp, like he’d just showered, and the scent of his soap - something woodsy and clean - wafted over you, its familiarity instantly calming your racing heart just a fraction.

"Hey," you said, voice coming out a little breathless. You suddenly felt a little underdressed and exposed, crossing your arms around your torso.

"Hey there,” he replied softly, setting the pizza box on the table. He turned to look at you, his gaze sweeping over you from your bare feet up to your face. He didn't leer or look weirded out by the fact that you’d greeted him in lingerie. He just looked... Sweet. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," you managed, your fingers knotting in the tie of your robe. "You too."

He smiled, that familiar, easy grin that made your stomach flip. "So. Pizza. Movie. Zero pressure, remember?"

"Right," you exhaled, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. "Zero pressure."

You spent the next hour curled up on your bed together, the pizza box open between you like a peace offering. You watched some mindless action movie you’d both seen a dozen times, the explosions and car chases providing a welcome distraction from the elephant in the room. Johnny was the picture of relaxation. He ate his pizza, laughed at the stupid jokes, and kept up a steady stream of commentary that had you giggling despite your nerves.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the knot in your chest began to loosen. This was still Johnny. He wasn't a stranger. On the contrary. He was your safe place.

By the time the credits rolled, you were leaning back against your ample pile of pillows, legs stretched out in front of you. The pizza was gone, the box discarded on the floor, and the room was bathed in the soft glow of your desk lamp. Johnny sat toward the end of the bed, back against the wall and your legs pulled over his lap casually.

"You're tense," Johnny observed, turning to look at you. He reached out, his fingers grazing your ankle.

"Sorry," you mumbled. "It's just... I’m stressed."

"I get that.” After a moment of silent, you felt his warm hands wrap around your left ankle, thumbs pressing firmly into the arch of your foot.

"Oh," you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Good?"

"So good."

He worked in silence for a long time, alternating between your apparently very tense feet, fingers digging into the tension in your soles, slowly moving up to your calves with a firm, rhythmic pressure. It was intimate, but not sexual. It was just… Johnny taking care of you, just like he always did - but in a different way. You felt yourself melting into the mattress, the knots in your stomach slowly unraveling under his touch.

After a little while, you began to feel guilty for allowing him to massage you while you did nothing in return. You’d asked Johnny for sex. Surely he’d rather be doing that. "You don't have to -“

"I want to," he interrupted. "Just breathe, okay?"

You did as he asked, letting out a long, shuddering breath. By the time he finished with your feet, you were a puddle of relaxed goo, your eyes heavy and your limbs loose.

"How’s the back?" he asked, his voice low and rumbling.

“Fine.”

“Tell me the truth, please?”

"Uh. Kinda tense," you admitted.

"Turn over.”

You hesitated.

"It's okay," he said, reading your facial expression. "I'm just gonna rub your shoulders for now. I promise. Taking things slow, remember?”

You took a deep breath and rolled over, settling onto your stomach. The mattress shifted as he moved and straddled your thighs. He sat back on his heels, his weight settling heavily on your legs, grounding you. After a moment, Johnny’s hands landed on your shoulders, warm and strong. He started with a firm pressure, thumbs digging into the knots on either side of your spine. You groaned quietly, pressing your face into the pillow.

"Tell me if I'm too rough, okay?” He murmured, leaning forward slightly.

"You're… Really good at this.”

“So you’re saying I have a good fallback career if world-famous astronaut doesn’t work out?” You could hear the cheeky smile he was no doubt sporting in his voice.

“Oh for sure.”

Johnny laughed, continuing to work his way down and then up your back. His fingers tracing the curve of your spine, pressing into the muscles on either side. He moved with agonizing slowness, his touch deliberate and tender. He wasn't rushing or even trying to get you out of your clothes. He was just... Learning you. And that felt good.

"God, you're tight," he mumbled, his thumbs digging into a particularly stubborn knot just below your shoulder blade. A small cry caught in your throat and the pressure immediately softened. "Breathe through it for me, okay?”

You did, your eyes fluttering shut as the pain slowly morphed into a dull, throbbing pleasure. He spent a long time on your shoulders, then moved down to your mid-back, his fingers splayed wide, his palms hot against your skin through the satin.

"Can I..." he started, his voice dropping an octave. "Can I undo the robe? It's kinda in the way."

Your heart skipped a beat, eyes flying open. You were already incredibly turned on, your body humming with a low, steady heat that had nothing to do with the massage and everything to do with the man currently straddling your thighs.

"Yes," you whispered.

He didn't rip it open or yank it down. He reached around your waist, his fingers finding the loose knot and tugging gently, the satin slithering open, exposing your back to the cool air and his gaze. He didn't comment on the set underneath - and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or offended. But he didn't make a sound. He just rested his hands on your bare skin, his palms hot and slightly calloused.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," you breathed, your face burning as you felt the cool air hit your skin, followed immediately by the heat of his hands.

He resumed the massage, his hands gliding over your bare skin with a slow, deliberate reverence. He worked his way down your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine, dipping into the hollows beside your vertebrae. He took his time, exploring the landscape of your back, steadily easing the tension in your muscles. Eventually he reached the small of your back, thumbs pressing into the dimples just above your waistband. He hesitated there, his hands resting heavily on your hips.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, the words barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning.

You felt yourself blush. “Don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better, Storm.”

“When have I ever done that? I only say what I mean.” He dragged his index finger slowly down your spine, and your hips shifted instinctively under his touch.

“Johnny -“

"Shh," he soothed, his hands stilling. "Just feel."

He leaned forward, chest brushing against your back, and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. It was chaste, innocent almost, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight through you.

"Can I keep going?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

"Please," you whimpered.

His hands slid down, fingers hooking under the lace waistband of your panties. He didn't pull them down. He just stroked the skin there, his touch light and teasing.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, his voice rough.

"I don't want you to," you breathed, turning your head so you could look at him.

His eyes were dark, locked on yours. He looked torn, a war warring behind his gaze - a mix of desire and a fierce, protective need to make sure you were okay.

"Then let me know what you like," he said, his thumbs tracing the curve of your hips. "Or don't like. This is about you, remember?"

You nodded, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it through your back. "I know. I just... I don't know what I like. I've never... you know."

"It’s okay," he soothed, leaning down to press another kiss to your shoulder, this one lingering. It felt far more like the kiss of a lover than a friend doing another friend a favor. "We'll figure it out together. Just tell me if something feels good. Or especially if it doesn't. Promise?”

"Okay," you whispered.

Johnny’s large hands continued their exploration, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine again, dipping into the hollows of your lower back. He was taking his sweet time to warm you up to his touch. It was evident that he wanted you to be comfortable and hopefully turned on.

And God help you, you were. The anxiety was still there, a low hum in the back of your mind, but it was being drowned out by the heat of his hands and the feel of his weight on your thighs. This was Johnny. Your best friend. The one person in the world you trusted implicitly.

And he was touching you like you were something precious.

"Wanna turn over?" He asked, voice low. "I want to see your face."

You hesitated for a split second, but then you nodded, rolling onto your back beneath him. He sat back to give you room, his gaze sweeping over you.

The robe had fallen completely open now, exposing the matching set beneath. The lace was delicate against your skin. But Johnny didn't say a word. He just looked, his eyes darkening as they traced the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips.

"You're stunning," he breathed finally reaching out to trace the edge of the bra cup with his thumb. "Absolutely stunning."

You shivered under his touch, nipples hardening under the lace. Even in the dim light, he noticed, and a small smile played on his lips.

"Sensitive?"

"A little," you admitted.

"Good," he murmured, his thumb brushing over the lace again. "That's good."

He didn't immediately make a move to unhook the bra or even try to slide your panties down. He just sat there, looking at you, eyes filled with a warmth that made your chest tight. You wondered if he looked at all his hookups like that, or if you were the outlier. Or if he was just putting on a show to make you more comfortable. Either way, in all likelihood, you were only going to see that look in his eyes once. May as well enjoy it.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly.

"Yes," you whispered. "More than okay."

"Good," he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Then we're doing this right."

Johnny didn't dive in immediately. He shifted his weight, moving to straddle your hips again, but he kept his upper body raised, caging you in without crushing you. He looked down at you, his expression open and searching, waiting for a final confirmation.

You reached up, threading your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, and tugged him gently down toward you.

“Do you… Would you kiss me? Please?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

Johnny lowered his head, but instead of crashing his lips against yours, he hovered for a moment, taking in your face with appreciation. He tilted his head, slanting his lips over yours in a slow, deliberate press. It wasn't aggressive. It was a gentle testing of the waters.

His lips were softer than you’d imagined, warm and firm. He moved them against yours with a maddening patience, tracing the seam of your mouth with his tongue before sliding it inside. You sighed, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. He somehow tasted like peppermint and something inherently Johnny - warmth and safety and barely restrained energy.

He kissed you for a long time, exploring your mouth with a thoroughness that left you breathless. It wasn’t like he was trying to prove a point or dominate you; he was still seemingly learning you. He was a quick study too - figuring out that you liked it when he nipped gently at your bottom lip, or that you sighed into his mouth when he deepened the angle. He learned that your hands instinctively went to his shoulders when you were a bit overwhelmed, anchoring yourself to him. In return, you figure out that he liked when you tugged on his hair a bit.

When he finally pulled back, you were dazed, lips tingling.

"Okay?" He whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your forehead.

"Very okay," your voice was raspy.

"Perfect." Johnny pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw. You shivered, and felt him smile against your flushed skin. "Now, I'm going to kiss you everywhere else. And I want you to talk to me. Use your words, and tell me what feels good. Or if you want me to stop. Okay?"

"Okay."

“Good girl.” The words sent a confusing ripple through your body, and he grinned as he shifted, trailing his lips down the column of your throat. He found the sensitive spot just below your ear and lingered there, sucking gently until you gasped.

"There?" he murmured against your skin.

"Y-yes," you breathed.

"Excellent." Johnny moved lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the hollow of your throat. He took his time, mapping the terrain of your collarbones with his tongue and searing kisses, tracing the delicate lines of your shoulders with his teeth.

Steadily, he moved down the center of your chest, his lips grazing the swell of your breasts above the lace of your bra. He didn't try to pull the fabric down or rip the bra off just yet. Instead, he simply kissed skin you’d allowed him to see so far, his hands resting on your ribs, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin underneath your breasts.

"Fuck, you’re so soft," he whispered, half to himself, half to you, his breath hot against your skin. "So beautiful."

Johnny then continued his descent, bypassing your breasts for the moment to press kisses to your stomach. He dipped his tongue into your navel, making you squirm, his hands settling on your waist to hold you steady.

"Ooh. Ticklish?"

"A little," you admitted.

He grinned deviously against your skin, pressing a kiss to your hip bone. "Good to know."

Johnny kissed the inside of your elbow, the palm of your hand, the sensitive skin of your wrist. You weren’t quite sure what you’d been expecting from him - but it certainly wasn’t this. He was worshipping you, treating every inch of you like you were precious. The anxiety was still there, a low hum in the back of your mind, but it was quickly being drowned out by the overwhelming sensation of being seen and cherished by someone you cared about so deeply.

Eventually, Johnny made his way back to your chest. He hovered over the lace of your bra, his eyes locking with yours.

"Can I?" he asked.

You nodded, and he smiled encouragingly as he unhooked it with an easy flick of his wrist, the fabric going slack against your skin. He reached up, sliding the straps down your arms, pulling the bra away and tossing it carefully onto your nightstand.

The air hit your skin, cool and shocking. You instinctively moved to cover yourself, arms crossing over your chest, but Johnny caught your wrists gently.

"No," he said firmly but softly. "Don't hide from me. You're beautiful."

After a little bit of coaxing, he managed to pry your arms away, pinning them gently to your sides. He looked his fill, his gaze sweeping over your naked breasts with an appreciation that made your entire being burn from the inside out. Then he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the hollow between them.

"God," he breathed, his voice rough. "You're perfect."

Johnny didn't grab or maul, like some of the guys you’d made out with. He cupped one breast in his hand, testing the heft of it in his palm. He brushed his thumb over your nipple, watching in fascination as it hardened under his touch.

"I like how responsive you are," he murmured, leaning down to take the nipple into his mouth.

You cried out, fingers flying to his hair as he swirled his tongue around the bud, teasing it with his teeth before sucking it gently into the heat of his mouth. He switched to the other one, giving it the same attention, his hand coming up to carefully toy with the breast he wasn't currently attending to. Your brain didn’t quite know what to do with itself as he lavished attention on your chest, alternating between soft, teasing licks and firm, suctioning pulls that left you gasping. He paid attention to the sensitive underside, the curve where they met your ribs, the skin in the center. He was learning what made you gasp, moan, and writhe beneath him.

"J-Johnny," you breathed, your head falling back against the pillows.

"Yeah?" he mumbled against your skin, not lifting his head.

"It's... You feel good."

He lifted his head, a proud smirk playing on his lips. "Oh really?"

"Y-yeah." You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. You're making me feel things I've never felt before. And now I’m worried that I’ll want to feel them again with you.

"I was hoping you’d say so," he said, leaning up to kiss you again, tasting you with a newfound hunger. "That's the idea."

He settled back slightly, his weight comforting rather than crushing. He looked down at you, his expression soft and open.

"How are you doing?" he asked. "Still okay?"

Your heart felt like it might burst. "Oh, so much better than okay."

"Atta girl," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Because we're just getting started."

Johnny reached down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. He didn't pull them down yet. He just stroked the skin there, his touch light and teasing.

"Can I take these off?" He asked. "Please? I want to see all of you."

You hesitated for a split second, but then you nodded, lifting your hips slightly to help him. He made no move to pull them down, and you shot him a questioning look. Was he backing out now?

“Use your words.”

"I- Yes," you whispered. “You can take them off.”

“Thank you.” He hooked his fingers under the lace and at an agonizingly slow pace, he slid the underwear down your legs, tossing them elsewhere with the bra. Now you were completely naked beneath him.

It was odd. He didn't stare or ogle you. Like he had before, he simply took you in, his gaze sweeping over you with reverence. His blue eyes roamed along the curve of your hips, the flare of your thighs, and finally between your legs.

"Fuck, you’re stunning," he breathed, reaching out to trace a finger down the center of your chest, over your stomach and stopping at the apex of your thighs. "Absolutely stunning."

You shivered under his touch, body flushing with heat. You were exposed and vulnerable in a way you'd never been before, but you didn't feel scared. You felt... Cherished. Like he was taking this all extremely seriously - or unwrapping a gift he'd been waiting a lifetime to open.

"Johnny," you whispered, reaching for him.

He leaned down, kissing you deeply, tongue tangling with yours as he ground his hips against yours, the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your sensitive skin, making you gasp into his mouth.

"Is this okay?" he asked, pulling back slightly. "Is this too much?"

"No," you breathed, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "It's perfect."

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue sweeping through your mouth with a mastery that left you breathless. His hips ground against yours again, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. You were utterly lost in him. All your senses competed for your attention, and you were overwhelmed trying to focus. The feel of his hands on your skin, the weight of his body on yours, the taste of his mouth and smell of his cologne. The anxiety was quieter now, rapidly being replaced by a burning need for more.

"J-Johnny," you gasped, breaking the kiss. "Please."

"Please what?" he asked, his blue eyes darkening in a way that sent shivers through your body.

"Touch me.”

“Where do you want me to touch you, baby?” His thumb traced light, tempting circles over your bare hip.

"Anywhere. E-everywhere."

He groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Fuck: You're killing me."

"Good," you retorted, a small smile playing on your lips. He held most of the cards, but you could infuse the situation with a little humor.

Johnny laughed against your skin, the vibrations rumbling through your chest. "Brat."

Kissing his way down your body again, his lips trailed a path of pure fire across your skin. He bypassed your breasts this time, heading straight for the apex of your thighs.

"Spread your legs for me," his voice was soft.

You did, heart pounding so hard you could hear the blood rushing in your ears. He settled between your thighs, his hands resting on your knees.

"You're sure?" Johnny asked, looking up at you. “We can stop anytime you want to, okay? Just say the word and we’ll -“

"I'm sure," you interrupted, before your nerves could get the better of you.

"Good," he said, leaning down to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, okay?”

He started kissing across your thighs, his lips and tongue tracing a path of fire. He took his time, alternating between soft, teasing licks and firm bites that left you gasping. He paid attention to the sensitive skin behind your knee, the curve of your hip, the area where your thigh met your pelvis. One of his hands wandered up your body to your breast, fingertip ghosting over your now-hard nipple. He was driving you insane - you were certain of it. You were writhing on the bed, hands fisting in the sheets and breath coming in ragged gasps with every touch.

"Johnny," you begged, your hips bucking off the bed. "Come on -“

"Soon," he promised, his breath hot against your skin. "But not yet."

“You’re not being fair.”

“Awe, that’s too bad.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

He continued his torture, his lips and tongue mapping every inch of your inner thighs. So close and yet so far. He was meticulous, thorough, and utterly devastating. You were a puddle of need, your body humming with a low, steady heat that was threatening to consume your entire being.

Finally, finally, he leaned up, his face level with your core. His strong hands pressed your thighs apart, and you almost shook with excitement.

"Ready?" he asked.

You nodded.

“Use your words for me, sweet girl.”

“I-I -“

“I need to hear you say it, or this stops right now.”

You were surprised at how attentive he was being. Of course you’d know he valued consent, but the lengths he was going to in order to ensure your comfort was touching. “I’m r-ready.”

To your surprise, Johnny didn't dive in immediately. He took his time, tracing the shape of your sex with his fingers, exploring the landscape of your body with a gentle curiosity and fascination. He’d spread you open, his gaze intently focused on your most intimate place. Maybe you should’ve been self-conscious, being looked at so closely. But something about it felt… Right.

"God," he breathed, his voice rough with desire as he looked up, eyes locking with yours. “You’re amazing.”

Without another word, Johnny leaned down, pressing a kiss to your clit. You cried out, your hips bucking off the bed.

"That's it," he encouraged, his hands resting on your hips and pressing you down to hold you steady. "Lemme hear you, baby. You make the sexiest sounds.”

Johnny swirled his tongue around the tight bundle of nerves, tasting you with a fervor that made you want to grind yourself against him . He started slow, with light, teasing licks that had you gasping for air. He paid attention to your reactions, learning what made you moan, what pace made you whimper, and the amount of pressure that made you cry out.

He took his sweet time, building you up slowly. Agonizingly slowly. He varied the pressure, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud, then sucking it gently into his mouth. He inserted a finger, sliding it deep inside you, crooking it to find a spot that made your vision blur at the edges. Your back arched off the bed as you tried to muffle a needy moan.

"Right there, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice more than a little smug.

"Y-yes - don’t stop -“

"I won't," he promised, increasing the pressure of his tongue, his fingers pumping in and out of you in a steady rhythm. "I've got you."

He worked you over with a single-minded focus, driving you higher. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter, sparks of pleasure that were almost painful. Your entire body felt hot and close to snapping entirely.

"Johnny, please," you begged, your hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer. "I need... I-I need..."

"Let go," he commanded gently. "I've got you."

With a final, firm suck on your clit, he pushed you over the edge. You came with a cry, your body convulsing, your vision whiting out. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, threatening to consume you entirely. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Certainly nowhere near as good as the rare occasions when you’d explored yourself. You rode through the aftershocks, hips bucking against his face and fingers still tangling in his hair.

Johnny didn't fully stop until you collapsed back against the pillows, gasping for air, your body limp and satiated. He lifted his head, a satisfied grin on his lips as he crawled up your body. Tenderly, he pushed a lock of hair off of your sweaty forehead.

"You okay?"

"I… Yeah. But okay doesn't cover it," you breathed, reaching up to cup his face in your hands instinctively. "That was... Incredible."

"Good," he said, leaning down to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips, a flavor that was surprisingly intimate. "Because if you want, we aren’t done yet."

"Show me," you challenged, pulling him down for another kiss.

He groaned, deepening the gesture, his tongue tangling with yours, making you gasp.

Eventually Johnny begrudgingly broke the kiss, sitting back on his heels to look at you. His gaze was dark, hungry, but there was a tenderness there too that made your chest feel oddly tight. That wasn’t how friends looked at one another. But then again, asking your best friend to take your virginity also wasn’t entirely normal.

"You sure you're ready for more?" he asked. "We can stop here if you want."

"I-I don't want to stop," you said firmly, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb. "I want this. All of you."

He closed his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath and pressing a kiss to your palm. "You have no idea how much I want that too.”

"Then show me," you repeated, reaching for the hem of his shirt. "Wanna take this off?”

Johnny didn't hesitate to acquiesce. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your breath hitched in your throat. Fuck, he was beautiful. Broad shoulders, a solid chest, a stomach that was flat and rippled with muscle. He was a work of art, and just for tonight - he was all yours.

You reached up, running your hands reverently over his skin, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs. He shivered under your touch, muscles twitching as he let out a small groan.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

"Hopefully not before you finish what you started, Storm,” you retorted. “You made me a promise.”

He laughed, a low, rough sound as he slid his sweats and boxers off. "Oh, I intend to finish this. Thoroughly."

Your eyes swept over him once more, dropped to below his waist to take in the sheer magnitude of him. He was hard, and far bigger than you expected, thick and imposing, and a fresh wave of nerves spiked in your stomach. Johnny saw the flicker of hesitation in your eyes and immediately reached for you, taking your hands in his.

"Hey," he said softly. "We don't have to rush. We can stop right now. Just hang out. I'm perfectly happy just -“

"No," you said, shaking your head, squeezing his hands. "I want this. I just... This is so stupid, but uh, I'm not sure it'll fit."

He smiled, a genuine, warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "You’re gonna give me a complex, baby. But we'll go slow, I promise. And if it hurts, we stop. No questions asked."

"Okay," you breathed, still not entirely convinced that he would be able to fit fully inside of you without breaking you in half. “I trust you.”

"That’s what I like to hear," he leaned down to kiss you. "Just relax, okay baby? Lemme take care of you."

Snatching up his discarded sweatpants, he fumbled around and pulled out a condom. You were grateful for his foresight. Somehow amidst your thinking (and extensive overthinking), you hadn’t acquired one. He ripped it open with his teeth, rolling it down his length with practiced ease before settling back between your legs. He leaned down, kissing you deeply once more, his tongue sweeping through your mouth as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

"Relax," he murmured against your lips. He rubbed a light hand up and down your torso, lightly massaging your tensed muscles. “You’re safe, okay? Just breathe. Relax for me.”

You did as he asked. You trusted him - of course. But this was… A lot. It was a big moment, and you were terrified of messing it up somehow. With. Deep breath, he lined himself up with your entrance, gaze locked with yours.

"Look at me, baby,” your attention focused on him.

The intimacy of the moment was nearly overwhelming. His eyes remained on you as he pushed forward, the broad head of his cock stretching you open.

It burned.

It was a sharp, stinging stretch that made you gasp, and your hands flew to his shoulders. Your eyes squeezed closed as you tried to make your body adjust. A warm hand pressed gently against your face, wiping away a tear that had leaked from the corner of your eye.

"Don’t cry, baby. Breathe," he soothed, stilling immediately. "Just breathe, okay? You're doing so good."

"It's j-just... A lot."

"I know," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Just tell me when to move. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You took a few shallow breaths, willing your muscles to relax. The burning sensation faded a bit into a dull ache - overwhelming and new, but not entirely unpleasant.

"Okay," you breathed, opening your eyes to look at him. "You can k-keep going."

Johnny pushed forward, inch by inch, slowly burying himself deep inside you. He stretched you open, filling you up in a way you'd never experienced before. It was intense, still bordering on painful, but beneath it was a simmering heat that made your toes curl. His steady stream of praise cut through the foggy haze of half-pain.

You feel amazing.

Such a good girl for me.

I’ve wanted this for so long.

You didn’t have time to register the last comment because he was suddenly fully seated inside you. The ache radiated through your pelvis as he let you adjust to his size. He leaned down, kissing you deeply, distracting you from the temporary discomfort.

"You okay?" Johnny asked, pulling back slightly to look closely at your face.

"Yeah," you breathed. "Just... Full."

"Good full or bad full?"

"Uh, good full," you admitted. "I think."

He chuckled, but he held still for a long time, kissing you, touching you, letting you get used to the feel of him inside you. At some point, he reached between your bodies, finding your clit with his thumb, rubbing it in slow circles. You gasped, hips arching into his talented fingers. The pleasure spiked, overriding the residual discomfort.

"Johnny," you moaned.

"Yeah, baby?”

"Move. P-please."

The young man above you didn't need to be asked twice. He pulled out carefully, then pushed back in, setting a slow, steady rhythm that set your entire body alight. He moved with a deliberate precision, watching your face for any sign of further pain or discomfort. The earlier sharp feeling slowly disappeared, replaced with the pleasure that Johnny had introduced you to with his tongue just a little while ago.

"Is this okay?" he asked, voice rough.

All you could do was moan in response. He picked up the pace slightly, his strokes becoming longer, deeper. He angled his hips, hitting a spot deep inside you that made you see a galaxy of stars.

"Oh god, right there -“

"Right there?" He asked, a deviously satisfied grin appearing on his face.

"Johnny -“

The pressure of his thumb on your clit increased, his hips snapping against yours. "I've got you, sweet girl."

He fucked you with a single-minded focus, driving you higher and higher. The tension in your pelvis coiled tighter and tighter, a knot of pleasure that was demanding release.

"Please," you begged, your hands fisting in his sheets. "I can’t -“

"Let go," he commanded softly. "I've got you."

He thrust into you, hitting so deep inside of you that you were certain the two of you were becoming one person, and you shattered for the second time that night. You came with a body-wracking gasp, convulsing as your vision blurred. You felt him stiffen above you, his rhythm faltering as he found his own release, spilling into the condom with a groan.

Johnny nearly collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy and comforting. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both came down from your high. Your hearts were hammering against each other's chests, a frantic, uneven rhythm that slowly began to sync.

The two of you lay there for a long time, just breathing. The air was heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, but beneath it was the familiar scent of Johnny - woodsy and clean.

After a while, he propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at you. His expression was soft, open, and filled with a warmth that made your chest tight once more. Don’t look at me like that.

"How’re you feeling?" He asked, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your forehead.

"I - uh… Great," you breathed, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw with your index finger. "That was... Incredible."

"Yeah?" he asked, a pleased grin spreading across his face.

"Oh yeah," you confirmed. "You made it amazing."

"You were pretty amazing yourself," he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "For a first time, you were pretty damn perfect."

Perfect? "I don't think anyone has ever called me that before."

"Well, they should," he said, rolling off you to dispose of the condom. You expected him to get dressed and leave, but to your surprise he quickly settled back on the bed, pulling you into his arms. You curled into his side, head resting on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart.

"Hey, Johnny?" Your voice came out as a shaking whisper.

"Mhm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For making it special."

He tightened his arm around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Anytime. Honestly. I mean that. Anytime at all."

You lay there in the quiet, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The anxiety was gone, replaced by a warm, glowing contentment.

You had done it. You’d finally crossed the bridge that has seemed so utterly impossible just days before. And to top it all off, you had crossed it with the only person in the world you truly trusted enough to catch you when you fell.

Johnny was lying on his back beside you, one arm thrown over his eyes, his breathing a deep, rhythmic cadence. You stared up at the ceiling, body humming in the aftermath, your still-flushed skin sensitive where the dorm room air hit it.

The physical pleasure was fading, receding like a tide, leaving behind the jagged rocks of your overactive mind. You turned your head, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the relaxed line of his jaw.

He looked satisfied.

But was he actually satisfied with you?

The thought that he wasn’t actually too thrilled with your performance was a fast-acting drop of poison in your veins. After all, you’d seen him leave parties with girls who had tons of experience. Women who knew exactly what they were doing, who were confident and sophisticated and worldly. You were just... You. A fumbling novice who had needed him to talk you through every step and check in constantly. What if he hated it?

"Hey," Johnny said softly, lowering his arm to look at you. His eyes were still warm, roaming your face with a gentle concern. Similar to how he’d looked at you after he’d picked you up from the dentist when you’d gotten your wisdom teeth out. "You went all quiet on me. Everything okay?"

You bit your lip, pulling the sheet up to cover your chest instinctively. "I'm okay. Just... Thinking."

"About?" He prompted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was so gentle, so familiar.

"Was I..." You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. You hated how vulnerable you felt, how small. "Was I, uh, okay?"

Johnny frowned. "Okay? Baby, you were incredible. You were -“

“I mean," you interrupted, your voice tightening. "Adequate. You know... For you. Did it - did I - feel good?”

"Adequate?" He looked genuinely confused. "What’re you talking about?"

You took a shaky breath, deciding to just rip the bandage off. "I know you've been with a lot of women, Johnny. And they probably knew what they were doing, and were a lot of fun. And I'm just...” I didn't know what I was doing. I probably didn't do anything right. You’re probably thinking of excuses to leave my dorm right this second.

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression nearly unreadable. Then he let out a long sigh, shifting closer so he could wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him, skin to skin.

"First of all," Johnny said, his voice low and serious. "Don't ever compare yourself to anyone else. For anything. There’s no one else like you. And secondly? You were perfect.”

“But I-“

“You were responsive and honest and you trusted me. That's the sexiest thing in the world."

"You're just saying that," you mumbled, burrowing your face into his shoulder. What was it about sex that made you suddenly self conscious? Normally you’d never be this self-conscious about anything.

"I'm not," he insisted, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I mean it. I've honestly never had an experience like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn't just... It didn’t feel like a hookup or helping you rip a metaphorical bandaid off. We’ve been friends for so long, and… I dunno. That sort of connection and trust just made it a million times better than other… Trysts."

His words soothed the jagged edges of your anxiety, but they couldn't quiet the fear entirely. Because the sex was just one part of the equation. The other part - the friendship portion - was the thing you were most terrified of losing.

Maybe this was all a horrible idea. How could you have been so stupid and selfish as to think sex with Johnny would solve any problem other than the fact that you no longer had zero sexual experience.

You pulled back slightly to look at him, searching his handsome face. "How are you feeling? About... Us?"

"Us?" He repeated the word slowly, like he was testing its weight.

"Yeah. I mean, we just... We crossed a huge line. And I know we said it wouldn't be weird, but..." You trailed off, throat tight. "I'm scared.”

A crease appeared between Johnny’s brows. “Scared?”

“That I messed everything up. That I shouldn’t have asked you at all, and you don't want to be my friend after all this. That I made things weird and you're going to realize it's too complicated and you'll drift away.”

Johnny went very still. The warmth in his eyes cooled, replaced by an intensity that made your stomach drop. He didn't answer immediately, instead he just looked at you, gaze searching your face, and you felt your heart begin to shatter. Of course. God you’re so stupid.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, tears pricking your eyes. "I shouldn't have asked. You can leave if you want to. I shouldn't have put this on you. It was selfish of me to ask you -“

"No," Johnny interrupted, his voice firm. He reached out, cupping your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But you're not saying anything," you said, your voice trembling. "And that scares me."

"I'm trying to find the right words," he admitted, his thumb stroking your cheek. "Because I don't want to lie to you. Not about this."

Your heart stuttered in your chest. "Lie?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "You asked if I still want to be your friend."

You nodded, unable to speak.

"The truth is," he said slowly, voice dropping to a rough whisper. "I don't think I want to be just your friend anymore. Don’t know if I can to be. I -“

The air left your lungs in a rush. It felt like he’d punched you in the chest. The tears that had been pricking your eyes spilled over, tracking hot paths down your cheeks.

"Oh," you choked out, trying to pull away from his hands, but he held you firm. "I... Okay. I understand.” I ruined it. I ruin everything.

“Hey," he said, grip tightening. "Will you listen to me? Just for a second? You're spiraling."

"It's hard not to spiral when you just said -“

"I said I didn't want to be your friend. I never said I didn't want you.”

You froze. "What?"

Johnny voice was soft and tender. "I want to be more than your friend, baby. I’ve wanted more than that for a while. But I wasn’t going to push for anything you couldn’t reciprocate.”

You stared at him, your brain refusing to process the words. He let out a frustrated huff, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Shit, I'm sorry I’m messing this up. I'm terrible at this."

"Johnny," you breathed. "W-what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that tonight wasn't just about helping you cross a line," he said, pulling back to look you directly in the eye. "I've been in love with you for… I dunno. Ages. Years, probably. And I was too chickenshit to do anything about it until you asked me to help you.”

"Years?"

"Years," he confirmed. "Since we were kids, honestly. But especially since college started. Watching you go on dates with random losers, knowing I could treat you better... It was kinda killing me. But I didn't want to mess up our friendship, so I stayed in my lane. I was your best friend, and that was enough."

Johnny paused, his thumb stroking your cheek, wiping away your tears.

"But tonight?" He continued. "Tonight changed everything. Being with you like that... It wasn't just sex. It was... It was everything. And I realized that I can't go back to being friends. I can't pretend that I don't want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

"You... You want me?" Your voice was trembling pitifully, but you couldn’t help it. The emotions clamoring for purchase inside your chest were overwhelming.

“Of course. I want to be the one who makes you laugh. The one who holds you at night. Who takes you on dates and gets to introduce you to people as my girlfriend." It was Johnny’s turn to look nervous. “I want all of you. And I want you to have all of me too. Though I think you always have, if I’m being honest.”

You stared at him, mind racing. You thought about all the years of friendship, the late-night study sessions, the shared secrets, the way he always knew exactly what you needed. You thought about the way he looked at you tonight, the way he touched you, the way he made you feel safe, cherished, and loved.

It didn’t come as a shock when the feeling of realization settled over you like a blanket. You had been in love with him for years too. You just hadn't let yourself admit it.

"I want that," you breathed, the tears falling faster now. "All of it.”

Johnny let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, his shoulders slumping in relief. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose, your lips.

"Thank god," he whispered against your mouth. "Because honestly I was terrified I was about to lose you."

"You're not gonna lose me," you promised, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close. "You never could. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," he said, settling you carefully against his chest. "Because I'm never letting you go now."

You curled into his side, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. The fear was gone, replaced by a warm, glowing certainty.

And as you drifted off to sleep in Johnny's arms, you knew that whatever came next, you would face it together.

[teaboot]

Can I be honest with yall I don't want to hear SHIT against cishets at pride this year

[teaboot]

"But it's not FOR them!!!" The biggest military power in the world belongs to a christofascist nation overseen by a felon found guilty of 34 federal crimes and has greenlit a gestapo with more direct funding than the entire military of Canada for the purpose of ethnic cleansing. Let Hetero Jessica throw some biodegradable glitter at a municipal parade

[teaboot]

At this point if anyone is trying to exclude anyone benignly pro-queer from a pro-queer space I'm just going to assume you're a fed or something idk like something something destabilize the movement from within or whatever

[goth-queen]

[gaybuttfuckzone]

[anarchohannibalism]

this video sends me every time. the lip syncing. the source material. iconic

[runby2]

I reblogged this one time and someone else who reblogged it from me tagged it with #violence

[gaybuttfuckzone]

[anarchohannibalism]

this video sends me every time. the lip syncing. the source material. iconic

[runby2]

I reblogged this one time and someone else who reblogged it from me tagged it with #violence

[oohyuck]

Oh, right. The poison. The poison for Kuzco, the poison chosen especially to kill Kuzco, Kuzco's poison. That poison?

[project-catgirlpiller]

[tiny-space-whale]

Reblog if you are a human rights extremist who believes that all humans are equal and has no sense of loyalty to nation states.

[rylandsgrace]

#An icon with taste

[genderkoolaid]

we need more stories about high femme prom queen types who become weird faggy guys. you haven't seen Behaviors until you've seen a repressed closeted tboy holding on to socially acceptable heterosexual femininity by the skin of his teeth

[thatflutefaggot456]

Me before I came out, when I did pageants and modeling.

Me after I came out, cut off my hair, bought comfortable clothes, and decided to actually wear my glasses because fuck contacts.

[crematedequally]

This was me the day of my junior prom. The dress weighed around 20 lbs, was the first one I tried on, and my makeup was done by someone who still thought brown lip liner looked good on white people. I spent the entire day being photographed and generally hating how I looked and wishing I could figure out why, when everything was technically perfect.

And this was me about eleven years later- two weeks after I started T in the first photo, and at around 5 months on T in the second. Much happier, married to the love of my life, and finally looking like myself!

[sisceal]

Such girl, very wow (pro ballet, modeling, and my first wedding)

Came out in 2016, here's nine years of transformation (in reverse order, sorry)

Turns out I'm neither a Normal Guy nor a woman, but a much weirder type of faggy masc thing.

And that's pretty great.

[antisocial-transfag]

In my lifestyle lolita egg era. Somehow getting to dress like a princess gave me the will to get up in the morning

1 year and 5 months on T

[romanticfatale]

[hauntedchronicler]

granted being a big ol goth doesn't really fit the bill of "socially acceptable heterosexual femininity" but i was HYPER feminine when i was closeted, especially in the years between when i FIRST tried to come out (age 16 - around the time of those first photos) and when i actually made the jump (age 19 - about a year after the last photo)

you can tell in that second to last photo i literally got a tattoo that said "MAD GIRL" which was an exercise in many things, including abstract self-harm, a visual reminder that i had given up on myself, and wildly underestimating the number of dudes who would misread it as BAD GIRL and take that as a cue to say gross shit to me while i was at work

anyway never kill yourself

[toyourliking]

haha yeah 🫣

consciously dipped my toes into the gender fuckery pool at around 15/16 but I was pentecostal at the time and well. took them out real quick

i tried very very hard to be “femme” for a LONG time but during covid lockdowns I didn’t have to perform for anyone and I slowly started to let it all go and now I’m a silly little man 😌

[mj-theskywitch]

ahem

these are about 10 years apart, 7 years on t and 5 years post op. it gets better guys

[genderkoolaid]

this too is a poem. these are my favorite kind of tags to see on this post btw. you will be in one of these posts someday <3

[not-actually-mature-content]

Verdict: false positive! This post does not actually contain mature content.

[jewish-rock]

there are certain versions of this post that you can remove the mature content label from even though tumblr automatically applies it.. unfortunately this one does not appear to be one of those :(

[procrastinationstationnn]

gives u a lil kiss on the forehead

[procrastinationstationnn]

reblog to give prev a lil kiss on the forehead

[sleep-tight-pupper]

reblog if your blog is actually unbelievably boring

[wholeheartedsuggestions]

i’ve decided things will start to feel easier on april 16th. i just chose a date. i don’t know anyone with this birthday. i just have a hunch, and it gives me something to hope for until then.

[wholeheartedsuggestions]

queue this post to check up on april you

[aquilacalvitium]

Write it badly or it'll never be written

Write it badly or it'll never be written

Write it badly or it'll never be written

Write it badly or it'll never be written

Write it badly or it'll never be written

[aquilacalvitium]

Please keep interacting with this post because when I come to tumblr to procrastinate, this shows up again in my notifications and guilts me into writing again

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

"nobody likes a complainer" you say, like an idiot, as if thriving ecosystems of friendships aren't blossoming every day based solely on people vocally disliking the same things in similar ways

[milo-melon]

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

*reaches out my hand in love & friendship* come be a Hater with me

[jakeperalta]

not using AI genuinely feels like the rest of the world is experiencing some kind of mass amnesia. if someone says they never use it, the immediate response is that can't be true because "everyone" uses it to write their emails or answer their questions. saw a comment suggesting that not using chatgpt to write an essay is "like the 90s". girl I graduated in 2021 and we weren't doing that! how is it that everyone has suddenly forgotten that they were entirely capable of doing these things all by themselves for their entire lives up until the past few years!! am I going crazy!!!

[vexheart]

[loubis-and-champagne]

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