[thetabbybadger]

I love you pre-Autumn. I love you first chilly night after a hot day. I love you first crunchy leaves on the ground while the trees are still green. I love you cicadas. I love you crickets. I love you dusk sneaking in earlier for the first time. I love you deep sigh of relief after summer.

[meownotgood]

arrival in tokyo / hayakawa aki

Aki has found you insufferable from the moment you were paired up together. It's bad enough that they're forcing him to work with a damn devil, but you happen to be the most disobedient, irritating devil he's ever met. You seem to have quite the attitude, and brats like you ought to be put in their place.

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 23.2k

tags: 18+, smut, exhibitionism (aki fucks you in an alleyway), light degradation, praise, pain play (aki puts his cigarette out on you), begging & teasing, face-fucking, thigh-fucking, spit kink, fingering, choking, 1 (one) spanking, pet names (good girl, baby, etc.), aki is a bit of an ass, he punches you in the face once

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

I want you two patrolling the south district all afternoon. I know you're not thrilled about this, but please, try to get along. I better not see you two fighting, understand? 

Oh, and Hayakawa, take a back seat today. If anything happens, just let them handle it, alright? Don't worry, I know they are more than capable. 

Those words seem to echo inside Aki's head, resounding with every heavy step he takes, with every loud clack of his shoes against the pavement. 

Just let them handle it? Why? Is he not fit to do his own job? He isn't helpless or weak, far from it. The squad he leads is one of the strongest in the prefecture, dammit. There's no way a brand new recruit, someone so irresponsible, bothersome, mindless — There's no way someone like you is stronger or more capable than him. That's ridiculous. 

You should be listening to his instruction, stepping back and allowing him to handle things, like a subordinate ought to do. Honestly, it's best you just quit right now, because if you're not going to do that, there will definitely be some serious problems. 

Speak of the devil, your voice stirs Aki from his thoughts: "Sir? Can you slow down? You're walking really fast." 

"No. Keep up or I'll leave you behind." Aki snaps back. 

The city is rather bustling today. People walk about, cars on the street inch forwards in the afternoon traffic, and the whistles of trains can be heard in the distance. There's a light breeze that wafts through the air, tickling the hair on the back of your neck. The sun beams down, warm heat radiating off of the concrete sidewalk. 

You've never been to Tokyo before — or any big city, for that matter — so the atmosphere is totally unfamiliar to you. Various storefronts are busy with shoppers. The walkway is crowded as tons of people commute from place to place. Skyscrapers stretch into the clouds, to the point where you have to crane your neck to look up at them. Wow, and you thought Public Safety's headquarters were huge.

With the way the man in front of you is rushing though, there's no time to enjoy the nice weather, nor take in any of the sights. You have to keep your eyes glued to his back if you want to stay at his heels and avoid getting lost in the crowd. You definitely didn't expect to spend your first devil hunting patrol sightseeing, but still, it would have been nice not to rush around everywhere. 

Aki Hayakawa is who you've been assigned to work alongside today, and he seems… interesting. Besides the woman you talked to earlier, he's the only devil hunter you've met so far, and he doesn't exactly give the best first impression. Respectfully, he's impolite. And to put it bluntly, he's kind of a stuck-up ass. 

When you first met him, he didn't even say hello to you, nor bother to introduce himself. He just looked down on you with an annoyed expression on his face that only seemed to worsen the longer you met his gaze. When he spoke, he acted as if you weren't even there, talking to the woman in front of you like he couldn't care less that you're standing right next to him. I'll work with them for now, but after today, I'm done. I'm tired of getting paired up with trouble-makers. 

Trouble-maker? You? Oh, come on. You're not that much of a nuisance… Probably. 

He's awfully up-tight, too. As you were both walking out of the Public Safety building, you were asking him questions: Hey, sir, what's it like working at Public Safety? Do you like it here? What devils do you have contracts with? There's a sword strapped to your back, is that what you use to fight? Hey, which do you prefer, ramen or udon? 

And he gives you straight to the point answers: It's fine. Yes. That's classified. Yes… And can you stop asking me stupid questions like that? 

Interesting, inscrutable, and cold: those are the best words you can think of to describe him. Cold like a sharp breath of winter. The type of cold that makes trying to get closer to him feel like trekking through the flurry of a heavy snowstorm. He's kept his eyes forward the whole time you've been walking, refusing to spare you any kind of glance. If you try to talk to him, all you receive in return are dry responses. 

You know he's your senior, and from what you've heard, he's supposedly an avid devil hater. It's not difficult to assume why. With these dark and brooding types, it always tends to be the same story. Some kind of complicated revenge plot, or something like that. 

The woman from before — Makima, was that what she said her name was? — told you that you were a special type of person, one who isn't human, nor devil. Hybrids, they're calling it. Supposedly, it's a rare sort of phenomenon. Hardly anyone has seen it before, and most people don't even believe it's true. 

Before Makima found you, you spent your whole life living out in the country. There's not many devils there, so subsequently, not many devil hunters. Besides what you heard in rumors and passing stories from the city, you were oblivious to the topic. Makima had to explain everything to you, and even then, your powers were still a total mystery. 

You still don't fully understand how to use them. Makima told you it'll take some practice, so stick with Hayakawa for now until you're able to get the hang of things. 

You might find him difficult to get along with, She said, But he's one of the most talented devil hunters I have working with me. I think you two could learn from each other. 

You didn't exactly want to become a devil hunter either, but Makima was the one who convinced you. Actually… she says the only way you'll be given any rights is if you're under her protection. Otherwise, it's fair game for you to be hunted as a devil. So you wouldn't exactly say you had a choice. 

Well, it's pretty safe to assume that's why Hayakawa doesn't like you. If people are willing to hunt you as a devil, then you're sure they must see you as one, too. Out in the country, nobody seemed to bat an eye, but the city seems to be full of lots of die-hard devil haters. Unfortunately, you doubt you'll be able to change his mind on that; people from the city are always set in their ways.  

Maybe he feels annoyed about being forced to work with a devil, especially one his boss implies is stronger than himself. You can bet he's still thinking about it, fussing over what Makima said, and if it's actually true. To be honest, even though you're sure he hates you, he doesn't seem like the type who's always a dick to everyone, just to those who happen to tick him off. There might even be a sweeter side to him in there… somewhere. Who knows. 

Either way, he's definitely interesting, and although he can be annoying, he's fun to observe. You want to find out more about him, if you're able. Besides, if you're going to be working with him, for however long it might be, you figure it's a good idea to try to understand him. As best you can, anyways. 

You've noticed that everything about him, from the way he looks to the way he talks screams professionalism. 

You threw on your uniform haphazardly, but Hayakawa has his suit buttoned perfectly, tie tucked in neatly, collar of his dress shirt straightened exactly. His hair is tied up nice and tidy, showing off a pair of simple earrings. With every word he says, he sounds sure of himself. His voice has a certain deep, smooth vibrato that makes you feel commanded to listen to it. You haven't seen him fight, but you can imagine how precise he'd be with the sword that's strapped to his back. 

He's handsome. He'd totally be your type, if he wasn't so pretentious. He's a smoker. You saw him smoking a cigarette outside the Public Safety building when Makima first led you in. The way he carries himself implies he's decently strong, probably more so than he appears. And he's also — 

"Listen up," Your attention is pulled back to Aki when you suddenly hear him open his mouth, "If we see a devil, step back and watch me handle it the right way, got it? I don't need you making a mess for the cleaning crew when your powers end up going haywire…. Are you even listening right now?" 

"Mmmmm… Nope," You reply, "You're gonna have to repeat all that." 

Aki sighs in annoyance, "When I say something, I'm not saying it because I want to hear myself speak. Listen when I'm talking to you. Can you not even do that much?" 

"Geez, I heard you the first time, calm down. I was just playing around." 

"Then repeat what I said." Aki commands. 

"Don't fight the devils, don't make a mess, blah blah cleaning crew." 

There's a few seconds of silence. It's almost like you can hear his eye twitching in irritation, the bridge of his nose knotting up as his temper rises. Finally, he says, "Just… Stay out of my way." 

He also happens to be pretty fun to mess with. 

You chime from behind him, "Whatever you say, Lieutenant." 

There's something about Aki that makes it both extremely easy to get on his nerves and very entertaining to do so. Your existence alone seems to be enough to get under his skin. When you make a joke or poke fun at him, he falls for it every time. If he really wanted to shut you down, he could easily ignore you, but he has this sort of complex about him that makes it impossible. 

It's a constant struggle, where he feels like he has to have the upper hand, the authority over you. Where he feels like in every situation, he has to be correct, and you have to be the one proven wrong. 

If you say go left, he'll say go right. If you say go slow, he'll say go faster. Someone like him, who's cold, diligent, and sensible should be totally incompatible with somebody like you, and in many ways, you are. But that just makes you want to get closer to him, to shatter the expectation and have him come to understand you just as much as you want to understand him. 

Aki Hayakawa is clearly the type of man who strives to achieve his goals by any means necessary. He's determined, but doesn't seem egotistical, which makes him intriguing. You think he seems like the type of person who has his own sense of justice, his own tightly-knit morals. He follows the orders that are given to him and sticks to his principle. In short, he's the type of person who doesn't understand how to have any fun. 

It'd be amusing to chip away at that, you figure. To get him to go against those values, to see him choose the immoral route instead. Being forced to work alongside those he swore to kill, to get revenge on, a devil, would probably be the first step. 

So as much as he is difficult, and as much as he is a total hard-ass, he's also fun, you conclude. It's fun to wear down his serious exterior, to see him when he strays away from his usual poker-faced expression. It makes you wonder just how far you can push him, what else you can manage to get out of him. At what point would he finally break? When would that stern, rule-following demeanor finally snap, and what would happen when it did? 

You've quickly found yourself trying to do anything to create sparks, to bring some sort of heat to that unshakeable cold. Aki makes it almost too easy, because whatever you say or do seems to immediately put him in a bad mood. That's why as you've been walking behind him, you haven't just been sightseeing. You've been formulating a plan. 

You overheard Makima when she was giving him orders; Aki was given specific instructions not to kill you, not to fight you, and to let you handle any problems that occur. You're sure he's got to be dying to defy those, to put an annoying brat like you in your place. 

You're going to figure out just what makes him tick. You'll find something that'll really piss him off, and then, once he snaps, you'll have won. Even if he thinks he's the one with the upper hand, if you can get him to defy the rules, to live a little, everything will have gone according to your plan. You thought being a devil hunter would be nothing but boring nonsense, but maybe now, things will start becoming entertaining. 

He thinks you're some sort of trouble-maker? Then a trouble-maker is exactly what he's going to get. 

"Hey, sir, I wanna know something," You ask him, speeding up a little so you're walking closer behind him, "Why do you hate devils so much?"

Aki's reply comes quickly and point-blank. "None of your business." 

"Oh, come on. Just tell me." 

"No," Aki says firmly, "Stop asking." 

Your lips form into a subtle pout. "If we're gonna be working together, we should try to get to know each other, right? Why won't you just say it?"

"I have no intentions of getting to know you." 

You pause for a moment, realizing you've hit a dead end. It seems like trying to get him to open up about anything is a no-go. You need something you can work with, something that's gonna give you a bit of leverage over him. If he doesn't want to play nice, that's fine. You have to change your approach, and there's one thing you think will work perfectly. 

"Hm, well," You muse, "I want to get to know you. Tell me, would you say you're a strong devil hunter? Or a weak one?"

Aki scoffs, "What's it to you?" 

"I just wanna make sure I'm working with someone who's on my level, not someone who's gonna hold me back." 

There's a slight pause, before he replies, "The civilian sector is where weak devil hunters operate, not here." 

He's avoiding the question. Are you touching a nerve, is he insecure? You might just have him with this. 

"I don't think that's true, and you know why?" 

Aki doesn't respond, waiting for your answer. You give him a moment to simmer, to try and figure out what you're going to say next. His arms are held uniformly behind his back, and you can see his hands start to tighten, his knuckles start to tense. You're glad he's not facing you, because if he was, he'd see the shit-eating grin plastered all over your face right now. 

"I think Public Safety is filled with nothing but weak, useless devil hunters. I know 'cause… I'm looking right at one." 

Aki abruptly stops in his tracks, and you nearly bump into his back when he does. He turns around on his heels, and for the first time since you left, you're looking right at him. His eyebrows are furrowed tightly, the bridge of his nose is crinkled up, and he's eyeing you up and down with this look of utter disgust and contempt. 

Yeah, you've really done it now, but you can't shrink away just yet. You have to keep pushing, 'til you get him right where you want him. 

"What the hell do you know about me?" Aki says, and the tone of his voice is much angrier than before, much harsher. You're aware that you're making a scene now, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, with people walking around you, giving the both of you dirty looks. 

You can't pay any attention to them, you have to keep focused on Aki. Don't look away from him, don't show that you're at all affected, otherwise this won't work. 

You reply, "You seem pretty weak to me, and what that lady said before confirms it, does it not?" 

"I'm not weaker than you. You don't know the first thing about what makes a person strong or weak." Aki's eyes narrow as he examines you, his posture rigid. 

"You sure about that?" You counter, straight-faced. "I heard what that lady said, she told you to let me handle things. So why did you tell me to let you handle it instead? You don't strike me as the type who'd disobey orders." 

Aki steps in a little bit closer to you. With the way you have to look up at him to continue meeting his gaze, you're suddenly aware of how tall he is compared to you, his body casting a harsh shadow over your figure. He just about towers over you, in fact. It gives you the feeling that to him, you must be small and meager. 

He utters his next words a little quieter than before, through gritted teeth, "Shut up. I'm your superior for a damn reason. If I tell you something, you listen and you don't question it." 

"Oh, whatever," You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, "Superior doesn't mean anything if you're a weakling." 

"You've got quite the attitude, don't you?" Aki leans over you, his voice sounding much closer to your ear, "I suggest you start watching your mouth, unless you want to have problems with me." 

"Why don't you watch yours?" You keep your gaze locked on his, despite how difficult it is to meet his sharp stare. "You've done nothing but be rude to me since we've met, you know. I didn't do anything, I don't think it's justified." 

"And you've done nothing but get on my last nerve." 

You shrug, seemingly unaffected by his mood, but you feel the smallest tinge of regret, the slightest feeling of nervousness. For a second, you wonder if pissing him off this much is a good idea, but before you can contemplate it much further, you're already saying, "Not my fault you've got such a short fuse." 

Aki brings his hand to your shoulder. He grips you hard, dragging you in. He's so close, mere inches away from your face; you can smell his fancy cologne, see the glimmers of spite that linger in his gaze. 

When he speaks again, his voice is a low, strict murmur, "This is the last time I'm going to say this to you. I am your superior, and you're going to treat me as such. Start taking this job seriously and stop acting stupid before it gets you in trouble. Do you think I wanted to deal with your bullshit, to be forced to work with scum like you?" 

The way he's scolding you, the deep and resentful tone of his voice: something about it makes heat rise to your cheeks, makes your heart pound impossibly faster. You feel embarrassed. There's a tight cord of anxiety forming in your chest — You feel like shrinking away from him, like you're suddenly the weak one in the situation. You were so confident earlier, but all it took was him reprimanding you like this for you to instantly regret what you just did. 

You feel like telling him, I'm sorry, please, forgive me sir, because everything from him telling you off to the way he stands over you, expression unyielding, hand tightening on your shoulder — You feel overpowered, in every sense of the word. At his mercy. The pressure is building, but before you can look away, Aki tilts your chin up a little with his finger, coaxing you to keep meeting his gaze. 

He leans forward just slightly more, and you notice now how he's speaking with his mouth mere inches away from yours. His lips look soft, they're parted a little, and although his tall frame in your vision is the only thing you can see, you know there's still people shuffling past. All these passerby, watching you get scolded like a child who's been naughty. 

Aki continues, "The only thing I want you to do from now on is sit back, keep your damn mouth shut, and listen when I give you an order. It's not that hard to do, so quit acting like a brat and show me some respect, got it?" 

You could do that, you really could step away right now. You could say you're sorry, and that would be that. But as much as the pressure is on right now, you still feel a lingering sense of satisfaction. He thinks he's the one in the driver's seat, but you can see it in his expression — His eye is twitching, his lips are pursed, his fingers are trembling ever-so slightly in frustration — He's going to snap. And you're the one who pushed him this far, who managed to get him this way. 

Honestly, being pinned under his thumb like this, treated like you're lesser, getting him really, truly pissed — It gives you a sort of thrill. A certain kind of high feeling, like even though he's in control, he's the one scolding you, it still feels like you've won. You accomplished what you set out to do, did you not? You got under his skin enough to make professional, no-nonsense Aki stop working just to reprimand you and cause a huge scene. 

This predicament of yours causes you to ponder the same thing you were dwelling on earlier, that same train of thought. How far would Aki go just to get the upper hand over you? What would he do to prove that he's right and you're wrong? 

You know you shouldn't enjoy pushing his buttons like this. You're sure the logical option here would be to fall back in line. Go back to work, follow orders like you're supposed to. But where's the fun in that? You can push him further than this. He's nowhere near close to breaking yet, and you want to find out what happens when he does. 

So, you say something you probably shouldn't — No, definitely should not say. Two little words that you know will piss him off more than anything. 

"Or what?" 

There's a pause. His hand is on you, his grip flexes, his body is so, so close. A brief stare-down, a deadlock that leaves you listening to the sound of your own heartbeat drumming hard in your chest, your mind spinning as you wonder what he's going to do, and what he's even capable of doing. And then —

"How about I show you, hm?" Aki stands up straight, peering down at you with an unreadable expression. He tilts his head, gesturing to the side, towards an alleyway that rests in between the tall buildings and crowded street corners. It's dark, and despite how much you squint your eyes, it's impossible to tell where it leads. 

"C'mere." 

Before you know it, before you even understand why, you're following him as he leads you deep into the alley. It's quiet, sort of dingy, cast in a dim, cool shadow. Far enough away from people that you can't hear them, but still close enough that you can see their shapes as they pass by the entryway. 

You're walking into the alley deeper, further, and you're about to ask, "Hey, sir-" But before you can get out, What are we doing here? He cuts you off by turning around and grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, slamming your back against the brick wall. 

Aki quickly has you caged in here, one hand tightly gripping your collar, the other placed firm on the wall beside your head. His knee slots into the empty space between your legs to trap you further, and he pulls you off the wall, dragging you forwards roughly by your collar until you're closer to his face. All you can do is sit there, limp, unable to move as he has you cornered. The impact of your back hitting the wall made your eyes shut involuntary, but you slowly open them now. 

You can look at him a lot closer than before; you study his earrings, black and shiny, glinting in the low light. His jawline is sharp, his nose is pointy and defined. He smells like cigarette smoke and cedar, completely intoxicating. Pinned this close against him, with his eyes never leaving yours, you feel like you could drown in his gaze. He's looking at you in a certain way that makes you feel trapped, like he's looking at something inferior, something he owns. 

Aki manages to somehow sound even more pissed when he speaks this time. "I don't know why you think it's acceptable to talk back to me, but you need to be taught something about respect, because clearly, you don't get what it means." 

You retaliate, "I don't need to be taught shit from you." 

"Apparently, you do. You fail to understand something as simple as respecting authority. If I was in your situation, I wouldn't be acting like this, I'd understand my place. But I guess you just don't get it." Aki's eyes narrow and his fist tightens on your collar. He keeps a resolute, level tone. "Miss Makima should have never taken you in, I think you're a lost cause."

It's difficult to speak with your collar choking you, Aki practically holding you up by it, but you still manage to spit out, "Huh? My situation? What's that supposed to mean?" 

"You really don't get it, do you? I guess I have to spell it out," Aki scoffs, "You're a fucking devil, and devils are less than human. As long as you're a devil, you'll be my subordinate, that's just the way it is. You should appreciate that I'm kind enough to give you this much." 

That word in particular, devil — The way he says it is laced with so much animosity, chewed up and spat out from his lips, like he hates even having to say the word. Like it's something about you, about this world, he absolutely, wholeheartedly despises. 

Your hands reach for his, grabbing at his knuckles, at where he grips your shirt, but to no avail; he refuses to let up. His thigh slides further upwards until you're sat between it, and you can start to feel the slightest amount of friction between your legs. 

You counter, "Well, aren't you nice. This is what you call kind? Treating me like shit, talking down to me like I'm some kind of animal?" 

"The way I'm treating you is all you deserve. I could kill you right now, but I'm generous enough to let you live. If you knew what's good for you, if you were at all smart, you'd ditch the attitude and be on the ground, licking the dirt off my shoes."

"Nah," You shake your head, and despite your situation, even though it would seem like he has the advantage here, you still have a playful smirk growing on your face. This is it, you're winning. "That lady told you not to kill me, and dogs like you always do as they're told." 

"Makima told me I can put you down if you try to run or disobey my orders. If you think your insignificant life means anything to her, you'd be dead wrong." 

"Put me down, eh?" You cock an eyebrow, a dry laugh escaping your mouth, "Like you even have the balls to do that." 

Aki taunts, "Yeah? You think so?" 

"I know so." 

After you say those words, everything happens in a matter of seconds. 

You notice his grip on your collar flex before he twists, still holding onto you. He roughly flings you away from the wall, with enough force that you stumble and fall on your ass. You manage to push yourself up, Aki standing over you and watching, allowing you to shakily stand to your feet. You don't have time to prepare to fight, though, because the second you've got your bearings, the last thing you see is him cracking his knuckles before his fist connects with your face. 

Fuck, he hit you hard. So hard you fall back again, all the way until you're on the ground. You can feel blood welling at your split lip, and you taste it on your tongue, where you accidentally bit down. The concrete pavement is icy cold against your skin; it feels good, almost, helping to soothe the stinging in your cheek. 

You really didn't expect him to hit you like that… Although, in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. Slowly, your senses start to return, the pain beginning to fade, but your daze is completely shattered when you feel Aki's foot come down on your face. 

He steps on your head with what feels like his full weight, grinding your cheek under his foot like you're a doormat, shoving your face further into the floor. It's filthy: the way you're pinned between the bottom of his shoe and the dirty ground of the alleyway. There's the sound of steel scraping metal, his sword being drawn from the sheath, the low hum of his voice — Don't move. — and then, you feel the sharp edge of his blade on your neck. So close, one misstep or tiny movement from slicing into your skin. 

Although your state doesn't make it easy, you're still able to see him in the corner of your vision; his expression deadpan, as if he's looking down at something far lesser, an insect. 

"You didn't put up much of a fight, did you?" Aki taunts, his eyes examining you, "Only one hit to take you out? If you weren't a devil yourself, I'd say there wasn't a good likelihood of you surviving past your first mission." 

You ignore him. "Get your foot off my fucking face." 

Aki leans his head down a little. He's silent, and in the corner of your eye, you can see the way his jaw flexes, the way he gathers saliva in his mouth. Then, before you have a chance to react, a glob of his spit lands on the front of your shirt. 

"Filth stays on the ground, where it belongs." 

You wiggle a little under him, trying to see if there's a way to get up, but Aki responds by pressing the blade of his sword firmer to your neck. Now, if you move even a centimeter, it's sure to cut you. Aki addresses it: "Didn't I tell you not to move? You're going to end up hurting yourself." 

Hurting yourself. Like he isn't the one holding the sword that's pressed to your throat right now. Like you're the one who caused this to happen, not him. 

You sigh defeatedly, "This is pointless. We both know you're not gonna kill me, so just let up already." 

"Of course I'm not. It isn't worth my damn time. Wouldn't be worth it to have to clean up the mess afterwards, either." 

With his foot still pressed to your head and his sword on your neck, Aki uses his free hand to rustle through the pocket of his suit jacket. He pulls a thin cigarette from the pack, sticking it between his teeth. He finds his lighter next, and you can hear him strike the wheel with his thumb. One, two, three times, before there's a flame to bring the cigarette to life. 

You're still slightly dazed, but the adrenaline is starting to overpower the hazy feeling. Your cheek is sore from where he keeps stepping on it. There's a slight, dull sting coming from your lip, and you can feel the blood starting to dry. 

Now this, this is the most pathetic you've felt in a long, long time. Your lip split from where he hit you, his foot shoving your face into the ground, his sword on your neck, all while he nonchalantly lights his cigarette. 

This is what it's like to lose against him, to genuinely find yourself beneath him, obedient. However, the most pitiful position you've been in since you met him also happens to be the most exciting. 

That thrill from before: you can feel it now, even stronger. In reality, it never truly went away. You're annoyed, but your heart pounds in your ribcage, you feel fire under your skin. Your head feels fuzzy and light, like you're floating in fluffy white clouds, fogging up and obscuring your vision, making it harder to think clearly or rationally. 

You should be done, you really should be done with this. The attitude, the quarreling. A sword to your neck should be the final straw. But should means nothing to you. Since when have you done what's correct, what you should be doing? 

You said it yourself. Aki isn't going to kill you. The heart-racing thrill: you want it more, you can take more from him. This is the most entertained you've felt all damn day. The exhilaration is so fun to chase, and Aki is so, so easily toyed with. 

There's a little smile tugging at your lips when you speak again, and you hope Aki can't hear it in your voice. "That lady told you not to fight me, did she not? I wonder what she's gonna say when she finds out you went directly against your orders." 

Aki speaks in between the cigarette in his teeth, grinding his heel a little harder into your cheek, making you wince. "Do you want me to give you another thrashing, or are you gonna shut up now?" 

"Tch. You're an asshole."  

"Yeah, sure." Aki shoves his lighter back in his pocket, taking a long, drawn-out drag from his cigarette. The smoke spills from his lips as he tilts his head back and slowly exhales. Finally, he says, "What's your point?" 

Your point? Your point is he's infuriating, impossible to get along with, and the most insufferable person you've ever had the misfortune of working with. Your point is that Aki is utterly difficult, and yet, he's the most captivating person you've ever encountered. 

No-one has put you in your place quite like this before. Nobody has ever made you feel this overpowered, this pathetic. There's something exciting about Aki being the first. 

There's elation, a thrill, in the feeling of being conquered by him, of having the power shifted away. And there's euphoria in the feeling of getting closer to him, when his hands were on you, when his mouth was just inches away from yours. There's a certain dizziness to the way he smells, to the way he effortlessly towers over you, to how physically strong you know he is, even though he holds himself back. The low, sultry lull of his voice goes right between your legs every single time he talks. 

Perhaps you want to break him just as much as you want to be broken. The idea of getting closer to him, closer than ever before, beating all the odds stacked against you, is absolutely alluring. 

Aki is a sworn devil hater, a model for professionalism, dignified and principled in every way. How amazing would it be to see him defy that, to make him want you, even though it contradicts all of his supposed values? He's been putting on this front, acting like he stand you, but the way he touches you even though he doesn't have to, the look of clear want in the back of his eyes that he's been trying to hide — Those things say differently. 

So maybe there's something else, something more you can gain from this struggle. Maybe, just maybe, there's another way to go about this. There's a different approach you can take, one much, much more satisfying. It's high risk, high reward. You're really not sure if Aki — straight-laced, goody two-shoes Aki — would ever do something so indecent. Aki, who hates devils, who always follows the rules, and who has no idea how to enjoy himself. A part of you is sure this won't work, but if it does, if this pays off… 

"You wanna know what my point is? Do you?" You taunt, finally breaking the silence between the two of you. 

Aki fiddles with the hilt of his sword, causing the blade to tap gently against your skin. He replies simply, without any elaboration: "No." 

"My point is I think you're compensating for something." 

Aki snorts, "Really? You were silent for so long, and that's the best insult you can come up with? You can do better." 

"I'm not saying it 'cause it's an insult, I'm saying it 'cause it's fucking true," You argue, speaking through gritted teeth. You're looking right up at him now, your gaze shooting daggers. Aki stares back with nonchalance, but also with a hint of curiosity, taking another lazy hit from his cigarette. 

You continue, "Guys like you only act this way because they're compensating for whatever they don't have. Did it make you feel good to take your frustrations out on me? Why don't you toss me around a little more, it might make you feel even better." 

"I wouldn't have needed to do this if you just followed my orders in the first place."

"Nope, this isn't about that for you," You wiggle a little bit under his weight, "This is about you wanting to take your anger out on a poor, defenseless devil." 

"This is about me teaching you a lesson on discipline. Seems I was unsuccessful. You haven't learned a thing." 

The blade of his sword, cool and sharp, presses further against your skin, shutting you right up. Your breath catches in your throat and you stare back at him, wide-eyed.

Aki holds his cigarette idly between his fingers, smoke rising up from the end. "You run your mouth way too much for your own good. For a 'poor, defenseless devil' you were acting real cocky earlier. What happened to that? You're the one who called me weak and useless. Now look at you." 

Then, Aki leans over, resting his weight on his bent knee, on the foot still pressing your face into the ground. In a tone much quieter than before, he says, "So, are you going to be quiet, or should I shut you up myself?" 

You eye him up and down. It's hard to breathe, hard to speak or even think, but you're just barely able to keep your guard up. You ask, "Are you going to answer any of my questions?" 

"I don't think they warrant answers." 

"Tell me, are you compensating for something? Or not?" 

Aki scoffs, "Are we really still on this subject?" 

"The fact that you won't tell me just means I'm right. You're probably a virgin, getting all pissy with me 'cause you're mad no girls will give you any attention." 

You can see the way Aki's jaw flexes, partially gritting his teeth as he sternly commands, "Watch your damn mouth." 

But you don't: "Is it fun to be Public Safety's measly little dog? I'm sure they keep you on a tight leash, never allowing you to have any fun. I bet you spend all your time running around, doing errands for that bitch, hoping someday she's gonna give you a chance. I'm sure that-"

You cut yourself off with a sharp intake of breath when you feel Aki press his blade into your neck. The pressure is only slight, but it's just enough to prick your skin. A thin rivulet of blood trickles down your neck, pooling onto the sidewalk under you, spilling from the small cut his sword created. Thump thump thump — Your heart beats faster, so hard you can hear it loud in your ears and feel it pounding in your chest. 

Sword to your throat, his foot stepping on your head, your own blood spilled; your body is frozen, but your head feels high. And when you peer up at him through blurry vision slowly beginning to focus, Aki looks like he's about to fucking lose it. 

Where his hand clasps the hilt of his sword, his grip tightens, his knuckles clenching. His lips curl into a scowl, his eyebrows furrow into a knot. He glares down at you with frustration, with a look like he wants you dead. This time, all he can manage is a choked, restrained, "Shut up." 

Your breathing comes out much harsher than before, and your eyes nervously flicker across his form. There's pressure building in the air, in between the two of you, so tense it feels like it's weighing down on you. With a voice that comes out weaker than you intend, you mutter, "Am I right?" 

"You're disgusting," Aki flicks his dying cigarette, scattering ash down, where it lands all over your clothes. "That's what you are." 

"And you have a small dick." 

In a single moment, with those few words, the cord of tension snaps — Aki swings his sword away from your neck and brings his foot off of your head. He takes a few steps back from you, then commands, "Get up, and don't make me tell you twice." 

You're a bit weak when you move, your limbs numb from laying on the hard concrete for so long. Hesitantly, you sit up, brushing the ash from the front of your shirt with your palm, the fabric still a bit wet from where he spit on it. 

Aki drops his cigarette butt on the ground, stamping it out with his shoe. You catch him sliding his sword back in the sheath strapped around his shoulder, muttering something to himself so quietly you hardly hear it. Something like, Can't believe I got your filthy blood all over it. Then, he grabs your elbow to yank you up the rest of the way, to your feet. 

Aki holds onto you tightly, guiding you up against the wall, putting you in the same position he had you in earlier: his height dwarfing yours, his knee caging you in. One of his hands presses flat to the brick, beside your head, while the other moves to grab your chin, forcefully tilting your head up so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes. 

There is it again — That sort of possessive look present in his gaze, framed by his messy bangs and heavy eyelids. He's close, so close, even more than last time, it seems like. If he were any closer, you're sure he'd be able to hear how much your heart is pounding right now. 

Aki exhales a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back to relieve some of the tension there, before he finally speaks. 

"Why don't you say what you said again? To my face this time." 

The frustration and anger you felt from him earlier have all but disappeared from his voice, replaced by the smooth, scolding tone you've become plenty familiar with by now. You can hear his breathing, soft and controlled. You can see the subtle rise and fall of his chest. There's that intense pressure again, combined with heat, with the closeness between the two of you. With the warmth radiating off your body and his, made stronger by the animosity. 

Once again, the balance has shifted, but not in the way either of you expect, not in the way it would seem. In reality, by bringing the two of you closer, Aki just did you a huge favor. 

You answer, "I said you're Public Safety's mutt, and not a very good one, at that." 

"And? What else?" 

"And that you have a small dick." 

Aki taunts, voice deadpan, "Wouldn't you like to know." 

"Oh?" You huff a dry laugh, "Is that an offer to show me?" 

"Tch," Aki scoffs, his eyes narrowing in contempt, "Don't be ridiculous. Do you think I don't understand what you're getting at? Do you think I'm stupid?" 

He's caught onto you, hasn't he? 

A grin tugs at the corners of your cheeks. "Of course not, sir. I think you're quite smart, actually. I just think you could stand to live a little, and if you understand what I'm getting at, then you should know what I mean." 

Aki keeps his hold on your chin, gripping a little tighter. The pad of his thumb brushes ever-so slightly over your bottom lip, where the blood has nearly dried. You're hot all over, and his hand is cold; his touch causes you to shiver. 

Aki continues, his voice low and quiet, "How do you imagine all of this playing out, hm? Acting like a brat isn't going to get you what you want. You seem to believe you're doing something here, but look where your antics have gotten you." 

His eyes flicker down, to the shallow wound on your neck. A dried stream of blood still lingers on your skin, and a tiny pebble of fresh blood wells from the cut, threatening to drip down. Then, his gaze flicks back to your face, resting on your lips. "All you did was end up getting yourself hurt." 

"Hm…" You muse, tone exaggerated as you feign thinking. His thumb continues to toy with your bottom lip as you talk. "No, I don't think it's what I want. It's what you want, actually." 

"You're projecting." 

You can't help but chuckle at that. There's a slight, teasing lilt in your voice when you speak again, the words dripping like honey, sweet and saccharine, "Isn't it hard, sir? It has to be so difficult, always following someone else's orders, never having the opportunity to take what you want. Why don't you be selfish for a change? Don't you want to have some fun?" 

Aki feels your lips quiver under his thumb. Your pupils are blown, gaze pooling with something he knows, but can't even begin to fathom. And when he moves his hand, faintly cupping your cheek, he feels the warmth radiating from your skin, the fire quickly spreading from you to him, filling his own body with a steady burn.  

His touch, delicate and light, is a perfect juxtaposition to his next words: harsh and strict. He replies, "What's difficult is having to deal with you. I'm sick of it." 

You feel his fingertips as they start to trail your jawline, tracing the shape, all the way until his hand is able to firmly hold the back of your neck. Your breath hitches, your eyes widen. Aki can see it in your face, in your reaction — The way his intimate touch intoxicates you, instantly sending blood rushing to your head. 

"I… I think…" You manage, gnawing on your bottom lip in an attempt to maintain your composure, "I think you wanna have fun, you just don't want to admit it. You don't have to hold back with me, you know. I'm sure you wanna enjoy yourself." 

"No, I don't. What gives you the impression that I do?" Aki replies, but he offers a tender squeeze to the back of your neck, and when he exhales, his breath comes out the slightest bit shaky. His eyes narrow, and it's like you can see the way his gears are turning, thought process reflected in his gaze. As if he's wondering, debating back and forth with himself… Does he? Does he want to enjoy himself? 

You've been keeping your arms at your sides since he first pinned you here, but with his eyes never wavering from your face, Aki can see your hand start to move in the corners of his vision. You wedge an arm between yourself and him, hesitantly pressing your palm to his chest, over the folds of his suit jacket. The fabric is soft to the touch, smooth. Clearly well-kept, dry cleaned and ironed to make it so. 

You can feel the way his heart drums under your palm to a quick, eager rhythm, how his chest swells with every deep breath. The bridge of his nose scrunches ever-so slightly — the only sign that he noticed — but Aki doesn't move, nor does he make any attempt to stop you. He's frozen in place, tentatively waiting for you to take the next action. Entertaining you, to the slightest degree. 

And you do just that: with a faint smile on your face, you slowly drag your palm down. Over his chest, fingertips ghosting across the crisp folds in his jacket, over the neatly done buttons. Then, down further, to cup the shape of his hip, to rub circles on his thigh, your hand just barely squeezing. 

"You say that you don't, but," Your voice is quiet, your fingers rub teasingly close to his inner thigh, and Aki bunches the hand that rests on the brick wall into a tight fist. "You're here, aren't you? You could get off of me any minute now and leave me here in this alley, but you haven't. You wanna tell me why that is, hm, Hayakawa? You wanna tell me what you're doing right now, why you have me pinned here?" 

No, you know why, and you want it just as badly as he does. You want to find out what he looks like with his crisp suit out of place, his tie loose, his shirt unbuttoned. You want to hear his voice when he can no longer maintain his level tone, what it sounds like when he breaks. 

You take a deep, trembling breath in. Aki exhales a slow, steady, controlled breath out. Here in this moment, it feels as though time only exists between the two of you. It passes in fractions, in every flicker of Aki's eyes over you, and in every faint beat of your heart. 

You can hear a plane as it flies overhead, a distant car horn honk — A subtle reminder that you're still in public, that what you're about to do is incredibly risky, but honestly, you can't bring yourself to care. The risk will make this all the more exciting. 

You speak to fill the growing silence, voice barely more than a whisper, staring up at Aki through your eyelashes. "You're so quiet. I bet you're thinking about it." 

Aki swallows, his voice lowered to match your volume when he replies, "Thinking about what?" 

You smile. "About bending me over and taking me in this alleyway, right here, right now." 

Aki sucks in a harsh, sharp breath. You lean in further, and his head dips in a little lower — Perhaps by accident, perhaps by choice. You stand up straighter to bring yourself closer to him, practically on your tiptoes; Aki can feel your warm breath fan out over the shell of his ear when you speak. 

"Well?" You ask. The heat from your breath and your soft voice in his ear causes Aki's whole body to shiver. "You're the one who said you didn't want to deal with bullshit or messing around. How about we get to the point, and you go on and tell me what you want to do to me." 

"I… I don't…" 

Aki trails off; the words are stuck in his throat, unable to form, and he cuts his sentence short with a loud gasp when your lips suddenly press to his ear. Your hand grabs the diamond of his tie, yanking him in even closer. You trail kisses down his cheek, his jaw, so light they can hardly be felt, so teasing they send sparks of electricity through his veins. 

You whisper against his skin, "Tell me how badly you wanna fuck me right now." 

"I think… I think that's just what you want." Aki tries to keep his voice unshaken, but you can tell how it's beginning to waver, his resolve faltering. There's a warm flush blooming on his cheeks, and he leans his head further into your shoulder, hoping you won't be able to see it. "You're awfully desperate. As if you even have the privilege to be." 

"No, you definitely want this, just as much as me. You're the desperate one here, I'm sure." 

Aki grits his teeth and chokes out, "I don't fuck devils." 

You grip his tie tighter, pulling him in until you're able to press your lips to his neck; Aki's body curls over you, obedient. His heart is pounding — You can feel it, the way his pulse thrums steadily beneath your lips. Your teeth connect, nipping faint love bites, mouth hot on his skin, and he's practically melting at the sensation, his weight starting to slide down the wall. I don't fuck devils, he claims, but when your hand trails from his thigh to between his legs, you can feel where the stiff outline of his cock strains his slacks. 

"Ah, s-shit," Aki stammers, "You…" 

Whatever he was hoping to say dies out when you squeeze him. Aki sighs deeply, his thigh sliding down from the wall, his hips subtly shifting back to give you better access. 

You palm his dick; he's so warm here, throbbing and aching under your touch, so much that you can feel his cock pulse even through the fabric. When you squeeze again, harder this time, Aki can feel precum dribble out, getting his dick messy, his boxers filthy. 

You press a long, lingering kiss to his collar. Then, you pull away to admire your work; red smears cover his skin, up and down his neck, and the crisp, white collar of his dress shirt is marked with a vivid lipstick stain. 

"Wow, you're so hard," You tease, trying your best to hold back a snicker, "Is this just from me kissing you? I knew you wanted me, but I had no idea you wanted me this badly." 

The only thing Aki can manage to mutter into your ear is a quiet, forceless, "Stop." 

You retort, "Why should I?" 

Aki swallows hard to clear some of the dryness in his throat, then murmurs, "We can't do this, not here." 

Yeah, he says that, but his words carry no bite, and his actions betray them; even while he speaks, even while he says we can't, he's rutting his hips into your touch, desperately seeking out more friction. A hushed whine leaves his lips when he grinds himself hard against your palm. 

"Oh?" You smirk, "So that's what you want, you want me to stop, huh?" 

Abruptly, you take your hand away from him. Aki's breath hitches from the lack of contact. His cock aches even more, suddenly feeling terribly confined in his slacks. So desperate to come free, to feel something. 

Aki stutters, "No, I'm-" 

You cut him off, "You're so needy, poor thing. All you have to do is admit you want me to touch you and I will. You think you can do that, sir?" 

"Fucking," Aki growls, his hand squeezing the back of your neck, "What I want right now is to shut you the hell up." 

"Hah, is that so?" You laugh, "And how are you gonna do that? Are you gonna shut my mouth with-" Your hand returns to grab him, palm stroking the shape of his cock through his pants, and Aki can't hold back a groan. "-this?" 

The moment you said that, the second your hand began palming him again, it's almost like you flipped a switch. The last of his resolve was finally chipped away, his need for you reached a boiling point, and now, there's no turning back. You can sense it in the way his breath starts to quicken, in how his hand grabs your side with a tight grip, wrinkling up your dress shirt. You know he isn't holding himself back anymore when his lips hover over your neck, his breath warm, and he finally says what you've been waiting to hear. 

"Yeah, you'd fucking like that, wouldn't you?" Aki's voice is low and sultry, laced with a hint of annoyance; his tone makes you feel weak, your heart flipping, the breath punched from your lungs. "Bet you're dying to have my cock down your throat. As if you even deserve it, considering the way you've acted." 

A soft whimper escapes your mouth before you have the opportunity to stop it, and you swear you can hear Aki huff the faintest chuckle. He runs his hand down your lower back, all the way 'til he finds the curve of your ass, and you gasp when he gives it a firm squeeze. 

Your eyelids flutter, and his tongue swipes over your neck — You're like putty in his hands then, instantly yielding. His tongue, warm and wet, licks up the stream of dried blood from your skin, the taste metallic in his mouth. You hastily rub his dick with your palm, and his lips latch to your wound; he sucks fresh blood from it, his teeth nibbling faint impressions, your taste fogging up his head. Somehow, you swear you feel him get even harder. 

Aki mutters into your neck, "You're awfully quiet now." 

It's difficult to formulate a sentence with his mouth all over you, but you manage to hesitantly ask, "And… And if I say that I do? If I say I would like that?" 

Aki presses his lips to cut, placing a kiss so unexpectedly soft and tender it makes your head spin, your thoughts teetering. His fingers thread up through the base of your scalp, sending tingles down your spine. He answers, "I'm not sure you've earned it, honestly. You'd be lucky if I gave you my fingers — No, you don't even deserve that much. The most you deserve is my shoe to grind down on." 

You're not even thinking before you babble, "I deserve it, I do. I… I really want you, please." 

"Oh, you're so greedy," Aki hums, muttering breathlessly between his lips peppering teasing kisses on your neck, "I know you'd be happy with anything I give you, but you still want more." 

You nod, squeezing the stiff tent in his slacks, and Aki sighs into your skin, quickly pulling back so he can look at you. He grabs your chin with his fingers, tilting your face towards him; his gaze meets yours, and his eyes are pooled with lust, pupils blown out wide, swallowing the blue of his iris. 

In a low tone, voice smooth, Aki says, "I like it when you beg for me, it's fitting for a pathetic little brat like you. Why don't you beg a bit more, then maybe I'll consider giving you what you want." 

This may be the first time you've listened to his orders, but the second you've realized that, pleas are already falling from your mouth and you can't do anything to stop them. 

"Aki, please." You whine, and it's the first time you've said his name like this, too. The way you say it so desperately, like you really do need him — Aki feels his heart skip a beat in his chest, and his dick pulses under your hand. You plead, "I really want it, don't be mean to me." 

"No," Aki scolds, his eyes narrowing, and he leans in a little further, speaking softly, his lips mere centimeters away from yours, "If you want it that bad, then ask me properly. Tell me what you want, and speak with some respect, otherwise you're not getting it." 

You hesitate for a moment, listening to the heavy breaths — yours, and his — as they echo around the alley. Only for a moment, though, because you know exactly what he wants to hear, and that happens to be the only motivation you need. 

Finally, you stammer, "I want your cock, Hayakawa, sir," You gulp, Aki's breath hitches, and then, you continue, "I want it in my mouth, want you down my throat." 

"Fuck, you think you can take it?" Aki mutters breathlessly, and when you nod your head, he takes one step back from you. He briefly eyes you up and down, and his hand tremors slightly as he brings it to your shoulder. 

"Then get on your knees." 

You don't need to be told twice. 

With his hand on your shoulder, Aki guides you to switch places with him, so that his back is to the wall and you're positioned in front of him, at his feet. He hurriedly pulls his sword strap off his body to make himself more comfortable, tossing it to the ground with a clatter. Then, he holds the back of your head, gently coaxing you to your knees. 

His heart thrums hard in his chest, a wave of anxiety rising in his nerves. If he's being honest with himself, Aki still isn't sure if he should be doing this. No, he definitely shouldn't. He should get back to work, stop acting stupid, quit messing around, but he just can't. 

Honestly, when did he get this way? Was it when you first laid your hands on him, or was it when he figured out that you wanted him, when you gazed at him with that hazy look in your eyes like you're just begging for him to take you? He isn't sure, he doesn't know when or why or how he became unable to resist you, but right now, he really doesn't care. 

He wants this way too damn bad. He needs you so much that all he can do is sit back and let this happen, even if his brain is telling him he shouldn't be. 

And when he sees the way you obediently sink down to your knees in front of him, hands promptly fiddling with his belt to get it undone: it makes his head feel hazy, clouded with a certain sense of adoration, and all of his hesitations are quickly tossed away. 

You stare up at him expectantly for a second, and Aki chides, "What are you waiting for? You're not chickening out, are you? You're the one who said you wanted this right here, right now." 

You're not, definitely not. You hesitated for a moment only because you suddenly realized the gravity of your situation, and you can hardly believe it's even happening. 

This is it, you did it, you won. You've got rule-following, devil-hating Aki Hayakawa pushing your head towards him, exhaling a heavy sigh of relief when your hand cups his bulge through the fabric of his slacks, his dick throbbing and stiffening beneath your touch. When you look up at him, you can see he's practically panting, his lips parted as he reaches up and grasps his tie to work it loose. His eyes never leave your figure as he watches you, anticipating your next move with bated breath. 

This is really happening, you're going to do this right here, down a dingy alleyway in broad daylight and… Honestly, you want him so badly you can't even begin to question things. 

So, you shake your head and reply, "I'm not. I'd never. And I won't change my mind."

"Good. That's what I like to hear." 

The metal buckle of his belt clangs as you unfasten it. In this moment, everything starts to seem louder in your ears, more surreal. You can hear the sound of his breathing, shaky exhales quickened with nervousness and excitement. The smell of him fills your lungs: his rich cologne and cigarette smoke. 

With his belt undone, hanging in the loops, you pop the button on his slacks next. Your fingers clasp around his zipper, pulling it down slowly, and as you do, Aki shoves his hand in his jacket pocket. He finds a cigarette, placing it between his lips, then his lighter, and he uses his palm to shield it from the breeze. You're edging his pants down his hips when you hear him strike the wheel, flame bringing his cigarette to life. 

The outline of his cock is even more noticeable through his boxers, thick and heavy where it sits on his thigh. There's a bit of wetness seeping through the fabric, from where his precum has dribbled out and dirtied it. Aki shoves his lighter back in his pocket, holding his cigarette between two fingers; he brings it to his lips, inhales from it deeply, lazily, and when your palm cups his dick, he groans, puffs of smoke falling from his mouth. 

He's so fucking hard, so needy — You can't help but tease, "See, I knew you wanted to have some fun with me, Mister 'I don't fuck devils.'"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Aki snaps, flicking the ash from his cigarette, his eyebrows furrowing up, "God, always such a pain in my ass — Why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to use, show me it's good for more than just giving me lip." 

"Oh? You think it's pretty?" 

Aki seems to falter for a moment. "It's-"

He interrupts himself with a shuddery gasp when you press your tongue to his clothed cock, breathing hot air that he can feel even through the fabric. You swirl your tongue around him, getting the fabric of his boxers even wetter. His whole body shivers, and he leans back further against the wall to support himself. 

You place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his stiff bulge; Aki whines softly, and through his heavy breaths, he's just barely able to choke out, "I can't… Don't tease me." 

As much as you want to oppose those words, you can't deny that you want this just as badly as he does, and you're getting a bit impatient yourself. So, you simply flash a playful smile in response before hooking your fingers around the waistband of his briefs, gently tugging them down, pressing one last delicate kiss to his clothed cockhead as you do so. You yank his boxers past where his hip bones jut out, then to his thighs, just enough to take his cock out. 

It's thick, pale, with a slight curve to it — So damn pretty that you nearly start drooling at the sight. Aki holds his cigarette deft between two of his fingers, reaching down to grab your face with his free hand, just as you wrap your hand around the base of his dick, stroking him to a lazy rhythm. 

He mouths something so quietly you almost miss it: Hold still. Then, he shifts his hips until he can lay the length of his cock over your cheek. For a moment, he holds you there, admiring the way it dwarfs your face, a little half-hearted chuckle escaping his lips. 

He brings his thumb to the tip of his cock while your loose palm continues to pump him. A faint, wet sound echoes in your ears as he rubs circles over the slit, gathering the sticky precum that leaks from there. He presses his thumb to your mouth, and when your lips part, he shoves it in, smearing his precum over your tongue. 

"There we go," Aki praises, exhaling a long, unsteady breath. Your lips close around his finger and you give it a gentle suck. Aki groans, "Yeah, want you to suck on me just like that," He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks. "Got it?" 

You nod, "Mhmmm. Yes, sir." 

Sir. His cock throbs just at that. You've been so damn difficult, always arguing with him, always trying to get on his nerves, but now that he's finally figured out what you wanted from him, you're unusually well-behaved. He could get used to seeing you like this, he thinks. Your obedience just makes him want to ruin you. 

Aki presses the tip of his cock to your lips, and you feel it throb hard when you kiss it. He pulls on your chin, coaxing you to open your mouth. Smoke wisps up from the end of his unattended cigarette. Punctuated by his harsh breathing, he slurs a string of instructions: Open wide. Stick out your tongue. C'mon, you're gonna have to open wider than that. 

Once you take him into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head down on him, your throat adjusting to his size, Aki gulps and praises, Atta girl. Keep taking it just like that. Watch those teeth for me. 

God, if being scolded by him makes you feel high, then being praised by him takes you even higher. Your head feels fluffy, and you whimper weakly around his cock. Aki presses down on the back of your head with one hand, bringing his cigarette to his mouth with the other. 

He takes a deep inhale before he's mumbling around the smoke, "Oh, that's it, baby." The pet name slips from his lips before he even realizes. His words make you even dizzier, and he tosses his head back, Adam's apple prominent in his throat, "Fuck, don't stop until it's all the way in, yeah?" 

Aki groans when your tongue swirls around his length, pushing your head down more, encouraging you to take all of him. It's so much, he's too much, his cock filling every part of your mouth and your throat, to the point where it's difficult to breathe, let alone keep your composure. The only thing you can think about, the only thing filling all of your senses is him, and all you can do is stare up at him, doe-eyed, as he shifts his hips forwards and crams his cock all the way down your throat. 

The tip of your nose nudges at his pelvis. Aki holds you in place, his palm rubbing the back of your head, fingers toying with your hair. He can see the way you're struggling to take him, muffled gags sending weak vibrations down his length, but he doesn't let up — He makes you watch as he takes a long, drawn-out drag from his cigarette, smoke falling from his lips as he exhales slow and steady. 

With your warm and wet mouth around him, swallowing him up, the nicotine seems to hit his system harder than before — Aki feels his whole body relax, his eyelashes heavy and fluttering, his shoulders slumping. 

"You're finally quiet now… I knew you could be good for me." He mumbles breathlessly, and he holds his cigarette between his teeth so he can reach down, wiping the tears welling at the corners of your eyes with his thumb. He feels the heat radiating off of your cheeks, and he carefully brushes messy strands of hair from your face so he can get a better look at you, tucking them carefully behind your ears. 

The cock-drunk expression already present on your face, the pleading look in your eyes, the way your mouth feels around him — Aki's breath starts to come out sharp and fast, his heart pounding in his chest, and he knows, he knows he can't restrain himself anymore, even if he wanted to. Not when it's this good, not when you look so needy for him, not when he's this desperate for you. 

It doesn't matter if he shouldn't be doing this, he doesn't fucking care if someone turns and walks right down this alleyway. He's going to be selfish, he's going to take what he wants from you. This is what you wanted him to do, isn't it? 

Finally, he drags your head back, giving you a second to breathe and your jaw some relief, but the moment is short lived when his hips abruptly rut forward, shoving his cock back in. Aki takes control then, gripping your hair tightly as he starts up a rhythm, fucking himself into your mouth. 

The alley quickly becomes filled with the wet sounds of you slurping and choking on his dick. He reaches so deep into your throat, and as his pace gets rougher, more and more greedy, your throat starts to ache, and your mind is a muddled blur, thoughts consumed by the feeling of his dick in every corner of your throat. 

His cigarette is nearly spent, and Aki takes one last drag, sighing as the smoke leaves his lungs. He taps the cigarette with his finger, flicking the ash to the ground below, before he asks, "Where do you want this?"

You're confused, at first, but Aki shows you what he's getting at when he hovers his cigarette over the nape of your neck, where exposed skin peeks out from the collar of your shirt. His expression is unreadable, but when you look up at him through your eyelashes, you notice how his pupils are blown out wide, how his face is dusted a warm shade of pink. 

"Shit… Should I put it out right here?" 

You mumble around him, the vibrations on his cock causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth, and Aki seems to take it as a yes. 

He presses the end of the cigarette down, putting it out right on your skin, just above your collarbone. He grinds it in deep, using your neck as his ashtray, and it burns. You whine as an enveloping heat blooms over your skin, across your neck and your shoulders. There's a bit of pain, cold and warm at the same time; it mixes with pleasure, with the ache between your legs, and then, it goes numb. Aki flicks the cigarette away once it's completely out, a slight, satisfied smile forming on his face. 

"You're so amazing, God," He praises, exhaling a shaky sigh, "Such a good girl." 

The sounds coming from the both of you grow louder and louder, more and more obscene. You're choking on him, and he's panting, his chest heaving with every breath, low whines of pleasure falling from his lips between every gasp. What if someone hears you? Someone could turn down this alley, they'd hear your gags and whimpers, and they'd see you on your knees, your superior's dick in your mouth, Hayakawa's dick — While the two of you are supposed to be working, no less. 

What would his co-workers, what would his boss say, if they went looking for him and saw this? Utterly square, professional Aki, getting off instead of doing his job. In a dingy alleyway, his cock down the throat of a fucking devil. He's always so calm and composed, poker-faced, but here, his face is flushed red, his lips are parted, quivering slightly, and his expression is contorted in pleasure as he falls apart at the seams. If anyone saw, he'd never live it down, surely. 

Your eyes flicker over to the entrance of the alley. Shadowy figures of people can be seen walking past, faraway and tiny, but still there. You're sure the darkness of the alleyway is enough to conceal the two of you, but if any of them come this way, if anyone walks back here… 

"Hey." 

Aki's voice interrupts your thoughts, his hand grabbing you firmly by your cheeks, and your gaze immediately darts back to him. There's a slight look of annoyance on his face, and in a resolute tone, his hips stalling, he sternly commands, "Look at me. Don't look anywhere else, I want you to focus on me." 

You offer him a shallow nod. Aki starts up his rhythm again, his hand returning to hold the back of your head, shoving you down onto him, and his hips shifting forwards, inching his cock further into your mouth. You force yourself to keep your eyes on him, on his face. 

Even though it's difficult to breathe, difficult to take him, it feels good, he tastes good. You begin to match his pace, bobbing your head in tune with his movements, swallowing him up as best you can manage. It's messy, wet tears coating your cheeks, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth. 

His dick leaks warm precum down your throat. The shaft glistens from your drool each time you pull back, smeared a diluted red from what remains of your lipstick. 

Aki brushes his fingertips over the cigarette-sized burn mark on your neck, rubbing it with his thumb, making it sting. You whimper, tears streaming down your face, and Aki cups your cheek in his palm, his thumb wiping them from your eyes. He sighs, and with his gaze still locked onto yours, you can see how his eyes become filled with adoration, his expression softening. In a voice barely more than a whisper, he mutters, "So pretty when you cry for me." 

His breathing gets a little faster, his pace grows a little rougher, until he's fucking your mouth relentlessly, rolling his hips in an attempt to get himself even deeper inside. Your tongue swirls around his length — Aki whines, his body tensing; the stimulation on his dick is too much to handle, too perfect, too good, and when you force your head down, sucking hard, Aki can't take it, suddenly gasping, "F-Fuck, I'm gonna-" 

He cuts himself off with a loud moan, his grip tightening in your hair, his head tossed back. For a moment, he considers pulling out, but when you shut your eyes and take him as far as you can, your lips wrapped around his base, he gives up; he buries his cock in your mouth as far as he can manage. 

The pleasure builds, builds, builds, until with one last harsh suck on his dick, Aki feels it all boil over. Beads of sweat form on his forehead. His voice is strained, breaking, words slurred and nearly incoherent as he mumbles, "Oh God, cumming, I'm cumming — Swallow it, pretty baby." 

And then, he's moaning through desperate gasps, his cock twitching as he spills into your throat. You swallow nearly all of his cum, reaching up to grip his thighs, your fingers digging into the fabric of his pants. When he's finally spent, sure that he's given you every last spurt of his cum, he relaxes, his body slumping against the wall. His hand softly strokes the back of your head: a subtle form of praise. 

When you pull back, you wipe the drool from your chin and the tears from your face with the back of your hand. Aki catches his breath. His bangs stick to his forehead from his sweat, and he reaches up to hastily push them out of the way. 

Slowly, he comes down, his eyes fluttering open; his gaze immediately darts to the entrance of the alleyway, lingering for a moment as the stars fade and his vision comes back into focus. No-one, that's good. He blinks away the rest of the haze before his eyes return to you. 

You look like a mess, your cheeks tear-stained, your hair ruffled, trying your best to stifle little coughs. Well, he's sure he isn't faring much better. He's got to look pretty disheveled, too, with his tie loose, his face covered in sweat, and his cheeks red hot. And he's still hard, his dick starting to ache again, just at the sight of you. 

Fuck, you could barely take him. You were choking on him so much, but still staring up at him with an eager, lust-filled look, like you were enjoying yourself just by pleasing him.

Yet, even though you could barely take him, even though you're still struggling to breathe, you're looking up at him with a wild, excited expression, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Aki has his gaze locked onto you, and he watches as you open wide, stick out your tongue, and let him see the bead of white — his cum — that lingers there. 

Half in disbelief, half in pure ecstasy, Aki slurs, "Oh, God…" 

You giggle, putting your tongue back in your mouth, and Aki swears he feels blood rushing to his dick when you swallow. When you speak, your voice is sickeningly sweet, enough to make Aki's heart leap when you ask, "You gonna fuck me now, sir?" 

"Shit," Aki pushes himself off the wall, stumbling a little when he stands up straight. He finds his footing, then he crooks a finger at you, mumbling, "Up." 

Your legs are a little shaky when you rise to your feet. Aki yanks his boxers up, not bothering to re-button his pants or fix his ajar belt. His hands fist your shirt collar, and before you can say anything more, he's yanking you towards him; his eyes flutter shut, and his lips come crashing onto yours. 

The kiss is messy and desperate — You're wrapping your arms around his neck, and he's gripping your sides, dragging your body as close to his as he can get you. His lips feel just as soft and perfect as they look, and when they part, he's licking into your mouth, sucking eagerly on your tongue. You grip his tie to yank him in even more, and he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, bringing a hand to your jaw. His touch is delicate, a perfect contrast to how greedy his kisses are. 

He tastes like fresh mint and the rich flavor of his cigarettes. You taste like himself, and the sensation has him reeling. His head goes foggy and light as he melts in the feeling of your lips on his, and just from this, he's already getting hard in his briefs again. You just taste too good, kissing you feels too amazing, too addicting. God, he's going to want to have you again, isn't he? 

With his palm still holding your side, Aki carefully twists, switching your position with his. Before he presses you up against the wall, he places his hand over the small of your back, providing a buffer between you and the hard brick. Then, his hand is fumbling to pull your dress shirt out from where it's tucked into your pants. As soon as he's got it, he slips his hand up your shirt. Your whole body shivers at his touch, his hand cool on your warm skin. 

Trailing his fingertips over your soft, bare skin, Aki feels the curve of your waist, traces the shape of your spine; he feels you melt into his touch, your body slumping, your back arching into him. 

His fingertips are nimble, and his palm is calloused, but his touch feels absolutely heavenly. As his lips press harder against yours, he gropes and squeezes your breast through your bra, and you groan into his mouth. 

When he pulls apart from you, you're both struggling to catch your breath, panting heavily, but he gives you little time to rest. You catch a glimpse of his face before he dips down — Pupils blown out wide, his face flushed, eyelids heavy — and then, his lips press softly to your neck. 

You sigh out his name quietly, your fingers tangling through his hair, his topknot starting to come a little loose. His head feels fuzzy, his thoughts cloudy, but in a brief moment of clarity, between his gentle kisses and love bites, Aki whispers to you, "You wanna get out of here?" 

Your response comes quicker than he expected. "No," You shake your head, gripping his hair tighter, "I can't wait, I want you right here." 

Aki laughs dryly, burying his face into the nape of your neck. He should have known you would say that. His soft bangs brush over your skin, and his fingers absently toy with the hem of your bra, threatening to slip under. 

"God, that's…" He pauses, exhaling a shuddery sigh, "That's dangerous, you know?"  

"We've already taken plenty of risks, haven't we? What's one more?" 

A bird chirps from somewhere above. A train whistles from someplace far away. Aki's hand slides down, feeling out the ridges of your ribcage. He rubs slow circles into your side with his palm, lost in thought. After a steady, deep breath, he softly replies, "If we… If I do this, then I'm not gonna be able to stop." 

The way he says those words, his tone deep, his voice wavering — It implies exactly what he means. I won't be able to stop myself, I won't be able to hold back, even if someone walks down this alley. 

You smirk. "Then don't." 

Aki steadies himself with one last shaky breath in through his nose, out through his mouth. Then, he takes a few steps back from you. You see him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He reaches up, adjusting his askew tie, his eyes giving you a quick once over. He allows himself one last chance, one more moment of contemplation, of considering if he should actually go through with this. If he should really fuck you, you, a damn devil, right here, right now. 

Well, should he? He's pretty sure he already established that he shouldn't, he just can't find it in himself to care. Right now, he's listening to his dick instead of his brain, but honestly, who can blame him? The way you're looking at him — It's like you're begging for him to let go, like you need for him to take you right now, in whichever way he pleases. It's absolutely intoxicating. 

Still, you can see the hesitation in his gaze, the way he bites his bottom lip, how his fingers around his tie tremble more than they should. His tone seems genuine, softened at the edges when he asks you, "Are you sure, are you certain you want to do this?" 

You huff, "Yeah, I'm sure." 

"Because I'm- I mean, you can say if you want me to stop, y'know, if you…" 

"Aki." 

The firmness to how you say his name causes Aki to freeze. He eyes you up and down expectantly. 

You continue, voice low, steady, "I'm sure, I've been sure. I told you, didn't I? You don't have to hold back with me." You breathe in, breathe out. A deep, heavy sigh. And then — "Do your worst." 

Aki gulps. Do your worst. He wonders what his worst might be. What, exactly, you'd let him do to you. How much you'd be able to take. He supposes he'll find out. 

In a strict, level tone, he commands, "Face against the wall." 

You follow his instruction immediately, spinning around, and Aki continues, "Bend over. Spread your legs for me. Place your hands on the wall, like-" He steps forwards, grabbing your wrists in each hand and guiding you to press your palms flat on the brick. "This." 

One of his hands settles on your waist, while he places the other on the small of your back. Aki guides you carefully until you're arched to fit perfectly under him: his tall frame is leant almost completely over yours, his hips are pressed up flush to your ass. Your arms are bent, your cheek nearly touching the brick wall, your legs spread a bit. 

In this position, he's so close, and it's so obscene, your body arched, your legs open. Aki takes a deep breath, and with his chest fitting into the curve of your back, you can feel the way his chest expands, then contracts. 

His body is large enough to dwarf your own, casting you in his cool, dim shadow. He wraps his arm under your stomach to pull you closer to himself, and when he does, you can feel the stiff outline of his cock in his briefs rub up against your ass — Already so hard, straining the fabric uncomfortably, dribbling precum out over his thigh.  

Aki leans down, his deep voice close to your ear, breathless: "How bad do you want this?" 

"Just as badly as you." 

Aki chuckles. His palm travels down your back, all the way to caress the swell of your ass. "So, very, very badly then, huh?" 

Your response comes in the form of a half-sigh, half-whimper as you shift to grind your ass on him, but to your surprise, Aki grabs your waist with an iron grip. He holds you still, stopping you. "Hey," You huff in frustration, "What's up, did you change your mind? Is someone coming?" 

"No. I'll keep going, but there's something I want you to do for me first." Aki replies; his voice is suddenly stern, resolute, and it throws you off a little. 

The gears in your head start to turn, and timidly, you ask, "And… What might that be?" 

His hips shove towards you firmer as he drags you in, even closer. You can clearly feel his hard cock pressed up against you, but with him holding you still, you're provided no movement, no friction. It's fucking agonizing. His lips ghost over the shell of your ear, and he speaks at barely more than a whisper when he mutters, "I want you to apologize." 

Aki nips at your ear; his warm breath and the intense closeness of his body on yours spread a wave of enveloping heat over your back. It's difficult for you to speak, your voice sounding feeble, but you still manage to ask, "...For what?" 

Aki replies matter-of-factly, "For acting like a brat, and for your blatant disrespect." 

"You… You can't be serious," You huff, rolling your eyes, "There's no way I'm doing that."  

Aki's lips graze over your jaw, soft, but barely there. "Then you're not getting fucked. It's a pretty simple request — I'm not sure why you'd decide to throw a fit now, when you're so close to getting what you wanted. I thought you were more desperate than this." His voice is low, the slightest bit condescending, "You're still my subordinate, so be good and apologize like one." 

Without a second thought, you snap, "Oh, bite me, you prick." 

"I will if you ask nicely." 

Aki grabs both of your hips, holding you still. Hesitantly, he grinds his clothed cock against your ass, a small gasp escaping his lips. Even through the layers of clothing: his boxers and your slacks, you can feel him. So thick, so close to giving you what you're desiring, but not quite. 

As he slowly humps your ass, searching for whatever bit of friction he can receive, your mind begins to wander. His breath in your ear is heavy, shaky. 

You think of when his cock was in your mouth, and imagine what it would feel like filling you up, his dick stretching you out. You imagine his precise fingers on your clit, long digits shoved in your aching pussy. A lump grows in your throat, a knot tightens in your chest. You want him so badly, so much it aches, and judging by the way he grinds on you, starting to rub his dick up against you with a desperate fervor, you're certain he wants you just as much. 

Your lips quiver, words on the tip of your tongue, until finally, you blurt out, "Aki, fuck- I can't wait anymore. I really want you, please." 

The desperate, syrupy tone to your voice causes Aki to briefly falter, if only for a second. His heart flutters in his chest, blood rushing to his cock, but his daze is shaken when you try to move your hips. He holds you firm, gripping even tighter: A silent command to hold still. 

"You're so needy," He teases, his voice cold, but the slightest bit strained. When you yield, going slack under him, his hand slides around to your front, fingers toying idly with the button on your slacks. "We're supposed to be working, you know. But here you are, begging for me, and you couldn't even wait for us to go somewhere more private. You want my cock that badly? Tch, dirty girl." 

Growing impatient, you counter, "And you were supposed to show me around the city, yet you're in some dingy alley getting your dick wet instead. I wonder what that says about you." 

Aki wraps his arm around your stomach, dragging your body closer to his, making certain you feel the outline of his cock, how hard he is, how much he's throbbing. He mutters, "C'mon. That's no way to get what you want." 

Even though he has his dick pressed up to your ass, even though he's grinding against you lazily, each of his sentences punctuated by his ragged breathing, Aki's voice assumes that same familiar, scolding tone. The tone that quickly puts you in the same overpowered, weak state you shifted in and out of when you first began this struggle. You're losing, again. But your head couldn't feel any higher. 

Aki continues, his breath hot on your ear, "Talking back to me is going to get you nowhere. I'm sure I told you this before, I thought you understood. Were you not listening again?" 

"I know," You slur, and there's heat rising to your cheeks from the embarrassment, from the pressure, "I was listening, I swear." 

"I don't think you were. If you had been paying attention, you'd be busy apologizing to me right about now." 

"Aki-"

"Be quiet." Aki snaps, "I don't want to hear anything else out of your mouth unless you're doing what I asked." 

Slowly, teasingly, he glides his hand down, his palm caressing your inner thigh; when he hears the immediate hitch in your breath, he drags his hand away, further from what you want. You can't help but whine in disappointment. 

Aki grinds a little harder against you. His cock is sitting thick and heavy on his thigh, the fabric of his boxers soaked from his dribbles of precum. He's aching, dying to be inside you, to feel your tight walls around his cock, to fuck you stupid. But still, he doesn't let up, refusing to give in. He won't, not until you're compliant. Not until he wins. 

Your breathing comes out faster, more uneven, and Aki is panting just as hard. He slips his hand under your shirt, fingertips tracing circles on your stomach, his touch so light and delicate it makes your whole body shiver. The shape of his dick on your ass, his touch on your skin, his large figure caging you in, his warm breath on your neck — Everything reaches a fever pitch, and with your mind in a haze, you finally crack. 

"I'm sorry!" You shout. Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes as you continue to babble, stumbling over your words, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sir, please, forgive me. I really need you, I can't…" 

Aki taunts, voice low, "Are you? What are you sorry for?" 

You hear the button on your pants pop. 

"For…" You gulp, "For acting like a brat, and for being disrespectful to you." 

Then, you hear the zipper: drug down agonizingly slowly, the sound and the anticipation that comes with it seeming to cut through the echo of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

You start to speak again — Sir, please, I'm — but before you can finish your sentence, Aki's fingers slip under your slacks. You cut yourself off with a sharp intake of breath. 

"There we go." Aki praises, and he rewards you by pressing his fingertips to your clit through the fabric of your panties. He rubs faint, barely-there circles, but it's still enough to give you some of the pleasure you had been oh-so desperately searching for. Your legs tense up, a quiet whine escaping your lips. Your hands, still pressed to the brick wall, tighten into fists. 

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Aki takes his hand away to grab your pants, gently pulling them down to your thighs. Then, he cups your pussy in his hand. He can feel the warmth there with his palm, and when he speaks, his tone returns to the certain deep, resonating vibrato that always sends a pang between your legs. "Do you think you've been good enough to have me touch you? You think you've earned it?" 

"Yes, yes," You reply quickly, but can hardly speak, nodding your head hurriedly. You're so wet, you're practically dripping, and you're certain he must be able to feel it through the damp fabric of your underwear. "I deserve it, I can be good. Just please-" 

Aki interrupts, "You wanna be good for me?" 

"Mhmm, yessir." 

Leaning his body over you all the way, Aki hikes your dress shirt up to your chest, until his hand is able to grip your bare side. He gives you a gentle squeeze, then brings his other hand to hold under your chin. Carefully, he tilts your head upwards, guiding you to look up at him, his face situated directly above yours. 

"Open your mouth." 

You're following the command as soon as you hear it. You open your mouth slowly, staring up at him through a half-lidded gaze. It's difficult to see from this angle, but you're sure he looks composed, his messy bangs falling to frame his face. His expression serious, but his pupils blown out wide. 

Aki taps his finger gently on your cheek. "You need to open wider than that. Stick out your tongue some, too. There we go." 

He grips your chin tightly, his jaw flexes. A red-hot fire rises to your cheeks — You're embarrassed, sitting here with your mouth open wide and your tongue out, eagerly waiting for what you know he's going to do. This should be such a pathetic position for you to be in, this should be totally humiliating. 

Shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself, of how desperate you're acting? And yet, all you can manage to think of, the one sensation that dominates everything, making your thoughts feel flowery, your limbs feel weak — All you feel is that utter, all-encompassing thrill. 

And when he gathers saliva, spitting a glob of it directly onto your tongue, you whine, your thighs shake, your head feels dizzy and fluffy; Aki commands, "Swallow." And you're listening to those instructions to a tee, instantly feeling a rush of adrenaline and an ache between your legs the second you've swallowed down his spit. 

Aki sighs deeply. His dick throbs once he sees you swallow, sending precum oozing down his thigh. His forehead falls to press to yours, his bangs brushed over your face. "Oh, fuck… Good girl." 

He swiftly hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, hurrying to pull them down. His palms stroke your bare thighs, the stiff outline of his cock shoves against your ass — Even less friction than before, and you can feel it pulse with need, the fabric of his boxers a soaked mess. 

"Where should I touch you?" Aki asks breathlessly, "Right here?" 

Before you even have the chance to answer, he rubs his fingers through your soaked folds, gathering your slick on the digits. You're dripping out all over his knuckles, his hand quickly becoming a glossy, wet mess. Aki chuckles quietly, and he places a quick kiss to your forehead before leaning his head back over your shoulder, speaking close to your ear once more. 

"God, you're wet… Did that turn you on, baby? Shit," His dick throbs, he exhales a half-sigh, half-moan, "You like it when I spit in your mouth? You're filthier than I thought you'd be. I love it." 

You can't manage a response to that, just a feverish nod. Your eyes screw up tight, and you hear Aki spitting again — This time, into his hand. He brings his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit with the base of his spit-soaked palm, firm and rough. 

If you're filthy for this: for wanting him to fuck you right here, in public, for getting wet when he scolds you, when he spit into your mouth — You're filthy, sure, but he's no better than you, is he? His dick is so hard it's aching, and you can feel his heart pounding like a drum where his chest presses to your back. He's the one who has you bent over here, who's getting off on teasing you perhaps even more than you are. 

The heel of his palm rubs slow, deep circles on your clit. Aki taunts, "Feel good? I want you to tell me how it feels." 

"Aki- S-Shit," The words barely come out, and you're speaking through tiny gasps when you mutter, "It's really good, please-"

You're not sure what you're begging for at this point, but Aki seems to get the hint. He brushes his fingers over your pussy, fingertips teasing at your entrance. "You want them inside?" He doesn't wait for an answer before he's easing two of his fingers inside you. 

"That's it," Aki coos, his voice a little shaky. His fingers stretch you out, slowly and carefully. "Can you take them all the way?" 

You manage to reply, "Mhmm.." 

Your heart pounds incessantly in your ears, your legs threaten to buckle. You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, and briefly, Aki stops. His voice in your ear is quiet, calm, seeming to resonate deep in your skull, deep within your chest. 

I'm right here. Focus on me. Got it? 

You're pinned beneath him here: Aki resting his body weight on top of you, his fingers inside your cunt, holding you up by your tummy with his other arm. You press your thighs together, the inside of them slick and wet, his arm right between them. You can feel the smooth fabric of his suit jacket sleeve rubbing your skin. If his sleeve isn't filthy already, it's going to be ruined after this, surely. 

Aki presses his fingers in knuckle-deep: his ring and his middle, the two longest. And they're so long, reaching so deeply inside you, stretching you out perfectly. Gently, he curls them, pressing them right up to your sweet spot, eliciting a needy whine from your lips. 

I know it feels good, but don't make too much noise. We wouldn't want anybody to hear us. 

You offer him a shallow nod and try to stifle your noises as best you can, but you're unable to hold back a few weak whimpers. His fingers are already soaked, glistening with your slick when he drags them out, echoing a lewd, wet sound when he pushes them back in. 

With a soft groan, he shoves his cock firmer against your ass; he can feel it throbbing, aching with need. You're so wet, and he knows if he were to sink his cock into you, it'd slide in so easy — The thought alone is enough to make him feel delirious.

Shit… You want me to go faster? 

Aki fucks you with his fingers until your legs are starting to shake. Your walls are so tight around the digits, squeezing them each time he drags them out, sucking them in greedily when he presses them inside — God, you're so desperate for him. Aki wants to give you more, needs to give you more. You've been so good, you deserve it. You deserve to have him give you everything. 

He hears your breath start to pick up, sharp and desperate. The pace of his fingers stays steady, controlled, Aki determined to make you cum. His lips press faintly to the shell of your ear. 

That's it, keep going, just like this. You're doing so well. 

A tight knot coils in your stomach, your edge coming closer, closer — Aki holds you tight, and he pulls his fingers out to briefly rub precise halos over your clit, his fingertips soaked with your slick. You're shaking, gasping, up on your tiptoes as your back arches into him. 

I want you to cum for me. You think you can do that, pretty girl? 

His words are all it takes to make you fall apart. Your whole body trembles, your moans growing louder and louder; His free hand quickly comes to cover your mouth, his palm muffling your noise. He coos, Shh, shh. That's it. Oh, baby… 

You cum hard for him, your whole body trembling, and Aki shoves his fingers back inside; he fingers you through your orgasm, blood rushing to his cock when he feels the way your cunt pulses around the digits. He draws out as much pleasure from you as he possibly can, only slowing when he notices you beginning to come down, and only dragging his fingers out of you when he's sure you're completely spent. 

As you catch your breath, your muscles relaxed, the exhilaration in your head starting to fade, Aki removes his palm from your mouth to hold you up, close to himself, your weight supported on his arm. "You alright?" He murmurs, and you offer him a quick nod and a slurred, Yes. 

You still want me, don't you? 

You laugh. Come on, is that even a question you have to ask? 

You're right. With the way you're already shifting your hips to grind your ass on him, a desperate look in your eyes as he grabs your chin, tilting your head up and to the side so he can look at you — It's clear you're nowhere near close to satisfied, and there's no way in hell Aki's quitting now. Not until he's given you all he has, not until you've finally had enough. 

With his hand holding your chin, Aki runs his thumb along your bottom lip, bringing his other hand in front of your face. His fingers are soaked, glistening in the low light, and he slowly spreads them apart, letting you see the way your slick and cum sticks between them. "Look at that. You made such a mess, you gonna clean it up?" 

His thumb pulls down gently on your lip, and you take the hint, parting your mouth obediently. Aki presses his fingers in slowly, careful not to push you too far, so you won't gag. Your tongue swirls around the digits, licking them clean, tasting yourself. 

And once again, just like all the times before, the praise he utters into your ear sends your heart fluttering: That's my girl. You think you can take my cock now? 

As soon as he's pulled his fingers from your mouth, still wet from your saliva, Aki makes quick work of yanking down his boxers. He grabs your hips to drag you towards him, his cock sliding in between your thighs. He's so hard, fucking aching, precum dribbling out from the sensitive tip, and it's so wet, messy with the slick that coats your thighs, your cunt practically dripping out onto him. 

Aki, please. 

The way you say his name so sweetly, so perfectly — He wants to fuck you so badly he's starting to get dizzy, to hear you say it over and over again, to make you say his name. His, because he's the one you're so desperate to have, he's the one you're bent over in a dirty alleyway for. You belong to him and you know it. 

So desperate for me. Be patient. 

Without even thinking, you counter, stammering, "I'm… I'm not desperate." 

"If you're not, then," Aki rubs circles into your skin with his thumbs, holding your hips tightly. He ruts forwards to a lazy rhythm, fucking into your plush thighs, the shaft warm and wet, throbbing incessantly, the friction delicious on his aching cock. "You're fine if I keep doing this?" 

He could spend an eternity here, teasing you as much as you can take, making you beg for him again and again, his dick buried between your thighs. But he knows what you want, knows what you need. You need more. 

You can hardly speak: "No, I… I'm…" 

"C'mon. Spit it out." Aki demands, "If you want it, tell me." 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribcage. Your words come out as barely more than a whisper. 

Aki, fuck me. 

Aki scoffs. Tsk. Try again. Ask properly. 

God, he's fucking difficult, even up until the very end, but you'd be a liar if you said you didn't enjoy it. You'd be lying if you tried to claim you didn't love this: the way he forces you into obedience, time and time again. 

I want… I want your cock. Hayakawa, sir. 

You hear a quiet whine, a hitched breath, as Aki presses his cockhead to your entrance. His dick throbs hard, and his voice trembles ever so slightly. 

Ask nicely. Say please for me. 

Then, a deep sigh of relief when he eases inside, pushing past the initial tight ring of your cunt, stretching you out just barely, around the fat tip of his cock. 

God, it feels so good — You want him to sink all the way in, to fill you up with the entire length of his cock, to feel him as deep inside as he can possibly get. Without a second thought, desperate pleas continuously fall from your lips: Please, please, please. 

Aki sees the way your legs begin to buckle, his arms around your middle holding you up tighter, closer to himself. You're under him, with his body leant over yours, his large frame dwarfing your own — You feel overpowered, owned, and the feeling only seems to multiply when one of his arms snakes under you, his large hand carefully wrapping around your throat. He squeezes, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to make you melt, your head floaty and high, your nerves going numb. 

In a tone that's deep, smooth, intense, Aki mutters into your ear, "That's a good girl." 

Then, he rewards you, easing himself into you slowly, stretching you out around his fat cock. His knuckles tense, fingers tightening around your neck, his touch sending tingles throughout your head, your shoulders, your spine. Through heavy eyelids, his gaze flickers down; Aki watches, vision hazy and blurred at the edges as the shaft of his cock is buried deeper and deeper inside you. He's so wrapped up in the sight that he almost doesn't catch when you weakly mutter, More. 

God, I'm gonna give you all of it. 

And he does: he groans when he's sheathed himself all the way in, down to the hilt, gently rocking his hips, burying himself into you as much as he can manage. He's so deep; you can feel his cock in your stomach, all the way inside you, throbbing to a dull rhythm. His hips are shoved deft to your ass, his warm, bare, sweat-soaked skin pressed against yours. 

Aki takes a moment to catch his breath. You take him perfectly, just as well as he imagined — No, even better. You feel so damn good around his cock, squeezing him tightly when he nestles in deeper, sucking him back in greedily when he tries to pull out. Perhaps if he knew from the start that you would feel this fucking amazing, he wouldn't have wasted so much time; he'd have you bent over for him from the minute you got here. 

You feel his warm breath on your ear, his quiet voice, genuine and strained: You feel so, so good. 

Starting up a gentle rhythm, Aki fucks into you with shallow thrusts, each movement careful and hesitant as he tries to give you a chance to get used to the feeling of him stretching you. He rests his weight on your back — You can feel his heartbeat drumming wildly in his chest, even through the layers of his shirt and suit jacket. If it wasn't for him holding you up, you're sure you would have fallen by now. 

He gives your neck one more faint squeeze as he shoves his cock in, sending blood rushing to your head, before he drags his hand over to your stomach. With the heel of his palm, he presses down, adding more pressure, and you can't help but whine out his name. 

"Aki," You manage, voice threatening to break at the end. 

"You want more? Shit, you want me to fuck you harder, yeah?" Aki interrupts, saying exactly what was on your mind. "You gonna keep your voice down?" 

In any other circumstance, or if Aki wasn't busy fucking your brains out, rendering coherent thoughts unable to form, maybe you would have considered yourself pathetic. Maybe you would have thought this, what's happening right now, was utterly embarrassing for you. Here you are, in a dirty back alley, with your superior's dick inside you, his hands all over you, and all you can think about is how badly you want more. 

Your superior, fucking Hayakawa, who's a total ass, utterly insufferable, and here you are, begging like a little bitch for him to fuck you harder. 

Without even considering whether or not you'll be able to fulfill his request, you're babbling, "Uh-huh, yessir, yessir." 

Aki's lips graze over the shell of your ear. If you get too loud, I'm going to stop. Show me how well you can take it. 

Whispered, slurred, you mutter a promise to him: I will.

After that, once he hears you say those few words, Aki stops trying to hold himself back. 

His hands grip your bare sides, his fingers trembling, his palms warm. He starts fucking you like he really means it, burying his cock in over and over. The buckle of his belt jingles, still hanging loosely in the loops of his slacks, and the soft sound of skin hitting skin — his hips hitting your ass — begins to bounce off the enclosed walls of the alley. You can hear him in your ear: his gasps for air, hushed curses, little moans of ecstacy that he's unable to hold back, and you're practically biting on your tongue to shut yourself up. 

Aki fucks you like he needs you, like he needs this, like he's needed someone to fuck like this for far, far too long. It's like he's taking out his frustrations on you, all of his resentment, and all of that pent up desperation he's had for so long now, everything building and building until it explodes — Until he fucks you like he's unable to quit. 

One of his hands presses to the back of your head, shoving your face into the wall, the brick rough on your cheek. The other glides over your bare ass, where he grabs and squeezes, and when you promptly whimper, he's not sure what overtakes him, but he gives your ass a firm slap — Immediately soothing the sting by caressing your skin with his palm. 

Fuck, I can't- You're squeezing my cock so much. 

Your hands tighten, grabbing uselessly at the wall, fingertips scraping the surface. Aki suddenly grabs your chin, roughly jerking your head upwards, and you hear him mumble something that sounds like, Open. 

You take the hint, opening your mouth wide, and while he's still fucking you, rutting his hips to a desperate fervor, Aki messily spits — The glob drips from his tongue, a string of drool, a total mess of his saliva. When it falls to your mouth, you gulp, and Aki groans, his dick throbbing at the sight, at the way you eagerly swallow down his spit. 

He leans back, then, spitting another messy glob of saliva — It drips down your ass, all the way to the shaft of his dick, getting it slicker, wetter when he shoves it back inside and God, it's so damn wet, so soaked, so easy for him to fuck himself into you. 

You're both getting louder, despite your attempts to keep quiet, and Aki hastily brings his hand to your mouth, covering it firmly with his palm. He leans in, his voice low and strict when he scolds, "I told you to be quiet. Do you want someone to hear us, or what?" 

… Actually, he knows he shouldn't get excited by that thought — He knows he shouldn't feel his dick get harder, his breath come out quicker, and his heart hammer faster when he imagines someone walking down this alley and seeing him fucking you senseless, but he just can't help it. He can't help but feel like he wants someone to see, to know just how desperate and needy you are for him. 

But, even if he enjoys the idea, he's still a man of his word, and when you're acting disobediently, something needs to be done. 

So, Aki begins to slow his pace. His thrusts are deep, but restrained, agonizingly teasing as he drags his cock out lazily, feeling the way your walls tighten, gripping the shaft. You mumble something incoherent into his palm; perhaps a protest, or possibly a plea for more. 

Nevertheless, Aki ignores it, and asks, "Can you hear that?" 

You promptly shake your head. Honestly, it's hard for you to even hear anything. His voice sounds like it's been plunged underwater, your head fuzzy with clouds and fluff, your brain practically unable to think. All you're focused on is the intense pleasure you're feeling: warmth that spreads across your entire body, pooling in your gut, causing your legs to shake and your toes to curl. You try your best to pay attention, and you don't notice it at first, but then —

When he thrusts in again, that's when you hear it — A disgustingly wet noise, so loud, the echo seeming to fill the entire alley. 

Heat rises in your cheeks, and a low chuckle falls from Aki's mouth. "So fucking wet…" He taunts, "You're still so loud. God, what am I going to do with you?" 

Aki keeps his palm deft to your mouth as he begins rutting into you harder again, burying his face into your neck to stifle his noise. He fucks you faster, harder, putting his full weight into every thrust. His pace grows ragged as he chases his own pleasure, his hand shifting, his thumb pressing to your lips, urging you to part them. And when you do, he's shoving his thumb into your mouth, pressing it to your tongue, mumbling the command: Suck on it. 

You do as you're told, lips closing around his thumb as you suck gently, your moans muffled, quiet. Aki feels himself start to lose control, his edge growing closer. 

He groans, "Shit, I can't- I'm close-" He thinks he can hold out, but when you start whimpering around his finger, shifting your weight on your heels to press your ass into him, urging him to fuck you even deeper, he's pressing his lips to your throat, muttering into your skin, "You want my cum?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I want it-" 

"F-Fuck… You gonna ask for it nicely?" 

Aki thinks, Of course you are. 

"Uh-huh," You're stammering, nodding your head feverishly, Aki fucking you to a desperate pace, "Please, I want your cum, Hayakawa, sir, please." 

Hayakawa, sir. God. 

Aki yanks your dress shirt up to your chest as he pulls out, and he wraps his hand around his cock, jerking it with a tight grip. The tension snaps, and Aki gasps — His cum shoots from his cock, ropes of sticky white covering your back, your ass, dripping down to your thighs, getting you utterly filthy. He lets his cock lay over your ass, squeezing the sensitive tip of his cockhead, making sure everything he has to give you drips out onto your skin. 

"H-hah, shit," Aki mumbles, his voice hoarse, breathless, "So messy… Such a good girl. Such a good girl for me." 

He comes down slowly, catching his breath, his arm coming to wrap around your stomach when he sees you starting to slip. With a shudder he can feel across his entire body, Aki drags his half-hard cock over your ass, over his cum, and although he's trying to calm down, when he looks at you like this, as you eagerly grind your ass up against him, he just can't. 

He's swiftly filled with the imperative to fuck you again, to get more, because he isn't done. There's more he can give to you, more he can take. 

Still, the prickle of nervousness welling in his chest causes him to turn and look towards the entrance of the alley. There's more people than ever. He can see their small, shadowy forms as they walk past. If any of them walk just a little bit closer, then… 

For a very brief moment, Aki considers stopping. He contemplates whether or not he should ask you if this is too much, if you two should get out of here like he initially suggested. But, all of those hesitations are cast away, all of his nervousness is replaced by a wave of desire the moment he hears you speak. 

You beg, "Aki, please. I want more, want you to make me cum- Please, can you?" 

It's risky, and only getting riskier. But when you ask him like that, when you beg for him to make you cum, how is he supposed to resist you? You always win in the end. 

So, Aki slurs, "Okay, okay, yeah." He places his hands gently on your waist, instructing, "Turn around for me, baby."

As you shakily stand to your feet, he holds you up by your waist so you won't fall. Then, he guides you to twist until your back is pressed to the wall, your weight leant on it, and your arms around his shoulders to keep yourself steady. 

Aki reaches up, grasping the diamond of his tie, carefully loosening it until it hangs undone around his collar. You clasp your hands around his neck, and he pops the buttons on his suit jacket next, taking it off and tossing it to the ground — It's filthy already, anyway — leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt. 

He hikes his sleeves up to his forearms, exposing his biceps, skin covered in scars from various contracts, and you're reaching down to jerk him as he does it, your palm around his cock quickly getting him hard again. 

Aki's eyes meet yours. Gently, he places his arms under your ass, lifting you up until you can wrap your legs around his waist. The metal of his earrings glint in the dim light, the tips of his ears a faint shade of pink. 

He looks so different from what you're used to, from the way he normally looks: so serious and poker-faced. Right now, his gaze is deep, filled with longing, his pupils blown wide. His messy bangs stick to his forehead from sweat, his eyelashes flutter, and his cheeks are flushed a light tinge of pink, warm to the touch when you cup his face in your free hand. 

He's pretty like this, you think. He's pretty when his bangs frame his face, when his hair is loose and unkempt, close to falling out of his topknot. He's pretty with his soft lips parted, when he's only in his dress shirt, with his slacks pooling at his ankles, when he's so goddamn needy for you. His voice sounds pretty and deep when he slurs a quick, You ready? And when you nod, he's easing back into you — The expression on his face then is the prettiest. 

It's warm, wet, tight, especially from this angle. Aki's breath hitches the second he's pressed in, and as his cock slowly fills you, the pleasure starting to build up again, he clumsily grabs your chin, pulling you in until your lips come crashing onto his. 

He moans into your mouth as he kisses you, his tongue swirling around yours, your hands fisted in his collar to drag him in even closer. He buries his cock in deeper, all the way, and it's so much, too much — His dick is so sensitive he can hardly stand it, and it's so damn messy when he thrusts in, the shaft smeared with his cum, your pussy dripping with your own arousal. He pulls his lips away from yours to gasp for breath, starting to fuck you to a steady rhythm, as best he can handle. 

His head is cloudy, all his limbs feel light, and when he buries himself in the tight warmth of your cunt, he finds himself drowning in the feeling. You feel so good, so amazing — You're so warm, so close, and there's so much pleasure. So much, so much, so much, and, God, he's going to lose his fucking mind. 

Your hand holds the back of his head, fingers threading through his soft hair. When he suddenly thrusts into you hard, you whimper, gripping close to the scalp, sending tingles down his neck and over his shoulders. Aki presses feverish kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your nose, and when he pulls back, his forehead falls to press against yours. His words are mumbled softly from his throat, barely more than a whisper. 

You take me so well, you know that? 

He's forehead to forehead with you then, his topknot coming looser and looser as your hands tug at his hair with every rough thrust. Aki can feel sweat dripping from his brow, can hear the wet squelch of his cock fucking into your soaked cunt. 

You want me to fuck you harder, baby? Tell me what you want, I wanna make you cum. 

You nod and babble without a second thought, Yeah, Aki, please. 

Aki gasps — Oh my God… — His pace growing faster, less contained. It's hard for him to breathe, even harder for him to think, but the way you say his name is so amazing, so perfect, all he knows is that he needs to hear you say it again. He doesn't care who hears anymore, he doesn't care that you're both getting louder and louder, your moans turning into screams. All he cares about is you, you, you. 

Aki grips your waist tighter, tight enough you're sure his grip will bruise. He commands breathlessly, "Want you to say my name again. Tell me who's fucking you so good right now." 

His voice is all it takes to have you oblige: You chant his name, over and over again, tell him, You are, you are, Aki. Each time it falls from your lips, his heart skips a beat, his dick throbs and holy shit — He needs to give you his cum, he needs to finish with you, more than he thinks he's needed anything in this goddamn world. 

With each thrust in, he's hitting that perfect sweet spot deep in your core, pushing you to the edge. You feel it coming, your breath starting to quicken, your muscles starting to tense, the pleasure boiling and boiling and —

"Aki!" You cry out his name, your eyes screwing shut, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum…" 

"Yeah, h-hah, I'm close too," Aki presses a quick, faint kiss to your forehead, his lips soft, his touch tender. Your high approaches with a rush of adrenaline and waves of pleasure, and just before you fall to pieces, just as you're reaching your peak, Aki's deep and smooth voice mutters instructions that push you right over the edge. 

Cum for me. Get my dick nice and wet, pretty girl. 

You're falling apart for him then, your whole body tensing, your hands clamoring at his back, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt, your cunt throbbing around his dick; you bury your head in his shoulder to stifle your noise, but Aki can still hear your moans, your wobbly chants of his name. Aki, Aki, Aki — Over and over again, so fucking desperate, so pretty, and all for him. 

Aki presses a firm hand to the back of your head, holding you there, close to himself. He fucks you clumsily, his hips beginning to stutter, and when he feels you cum on him, squeezing like a vice around his cock, he can't hold himself back from riding the same high. 

He shoves himself in deep, fucking you shallowly through his orgasm, his cock spilling inside, filling you with the last of his cum. He gasps out your name as he finishes, incoherent strings of curses and gasps alongside it — Fuck, fuck, feels so- Oh God, babygirl… — his voice high-pitched, strained. His vision goes white, his hands tremble as he holds onto your sides, and his whole body shudders before his muscles relax. 

Time appears frozen in place for a few short moments. You begin to catch your breath, your heart rate slowing down, the high you were feeling starting to fade. Once exhaustion hits your limbs, your body slumps, and Aki holds you up, muttering quietly into your ear, "I've got you."

His breath feels warm on your cheek as he exhales shallow gasps. Your eyelids feel heavy, sleepy, the warmth of his body held close to yours just amplifying the feeling. Aki whispers, "You okay?" And when you nod your head, he softly instructs, "Here. I'm gonna set you down. Put your arms around me." 

You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders, and very carefully, Aki puts you down, making sure you've regained your stability before he fully lets go. 

Everything starts to become clearer as Aki helps you get dressed, one of his hands kept on your waist to steady you. He pulls up your pants, buttons them, tucks your shirt in so it looks orderly. He brushes messy strands of hair from your face, his fingertips brushing over the marks on your skin, over your neck — Undeniable proof that he was there, that this was real. Even now, he still finds it hard to believe. 

Perhaps he should be angry with you, perhaps he should scold you for what happened. But… Honestly, after taking out his stresses on you, he feels too calm to make a big deal out of it. 

He fixes himself next: he pulls up his slacks and re-clasps his belt buckle. He bends down to snatch his suit jacket from the ground, pulling it back over his shoulders and buttoning it up. He grasps his tie, straightening it, pulling to make it tight. 

His gaze meets yours as he's reaching up into his hair, grasping the loose hair tie to pull it out, dark, messy locks falling around his face. "You're not talking," He says, crooking an eyebrow, "You must be tired." 

You groggily reply, "Mhmm… I am. Really tired." You pause, nearly losing your train of thought when you look at him, admiring the way he looks with his hair down, so pretty — But once you find it again, you ask, "Do you think anyone saw us?" 

Aki takes a quick glance at the entrance to the alley. The traffic seems to have cleared, with much less people walking by than before. Nothing seems suspicious, nothing seems out of the ordinary, and when he looks towards the other side of the alleyway, he concludes that the two of you are still very much alone. 

He shakes his head and replies, "No, no. I don't think so." 

Although your brain still feels hazy and muddled, and your body feels weak and weary, you've begun to come to your senses. The reality of the situation, of what happened, hits you all at once, and as if he can read your mind, Aki tells you, "We don't have to talk about any of this, if you don't want to." 

With his hair tie around his wrist, he grabs his hair, tying it up neatly into his signature topknot, nice and tight. He shoves his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket once he's done. 

"No, it's fine, it's…" You avert your eyes for a moment, trying to think, "It's okay. To talk about it, I mean. I don't regret anything." 

Aki hums, "That's good to know." 

He finds his cigarettes, pulling one out and sticking it between his teeth. Then, his lighter, and he tilts his head away from you to strike the wheel, a small flame bringing his cigarette to life. 

To break the silence, you ask him, "You gonna make me go back to work now?" 

Aki shrugs his shoulders. "C'mon," He replies, putting his lighter back in his pocket, smoke wisping up from the end of his cig, "I'm not that mean. You live around here? I'll walk you home, I'll tell Makima you got sick or something." 

"No, I don't. They had me staying at Public Safety for now." 

Aki takes a long drag in from his cigarette. The nicotine soothes his lungs, relaxing his body and his mind. He feels calmer, more composed, his worries melting away. Perhaps that's why, after he's exhaled the smoke from his lungs, when he opens his mouth next, he's saying to you, "I'll take you back to my place, then." 

"What?" You exclaim, "No way, that's not necessary." 

"I won't be there, I still have work I need to get done today. I'll give you my keys, you can leave whenever you're ready. Or stay until I get back, it's up to you." 

"But-" You're about to protest, but instead, you sigh in defeat. "Alright, fine. You missed a spot, by the way." 

"Huh?" 

You grab his shirt collar, still smeared with a bright red lipstick stain, and tuck it into his jacket. In the dim light, it's difficult to tell, but you swear you can see the slightest tinge of pink dawn on Aki's cheeks. He says nonchalantly, "Oh, thanks." 

Tapping his cigarette with his finger to scatter the ash, Aki brings his free hand to your waist, holding it hesitantly, his eyes scanning your face as if he's waiting for some kind of objection. When there is none, he brings his cigarette back to his lips, taking another drag before abruptly asking, "Did Makima assign you a buddy yet?" 

"...What's that?" 

"Everyone at Public Safety has a partner for going on patrols and such. It's safer that way, to work in pairs," Aki explains, "You should be mine." 

"Huh? Really?" You huff a dry laugh and lean back further against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're joking, right?" 

"Nope." When he answers, his voice sounds stern and serious as ever, true to his words. "My last buddy quit, so now I don't have one." 

"That's not what I meant. I mean like… Why would you ask me? I thought you hated my guts." You scoff, "You really wanna be buddies with a devil?" 

Aki eyes you up and down, his expression poker-faced. "Considering what I just did with said devil, I don't think it's so crazy." He tilts his head upwards, exhaling smoke into the afternoon sky. "I'll take back my proposal if you're not interested." 

"No, I'm…" You blurt out, looking away sheepishly, "I'm interested." 

"Good. I'll give the paperwork to Miss Makima. You'll have to sign some things tomorrow." 

As seconds bleed into minutes, puffy white clouds passing idly in the sky, Aki finishes his cigarette, dropping it to the ground and stamping it out with the heel of his shoe. He takes a step back from you, looking down, checking to make sure he looks in order. 

There's still one more thing lingering in your mind, and so, you ask him, "Hey, Aki." 

Aki looks up, "Yeah?" 

"Do you think I'm pretty?" 

Aki chuckles. He reaches down, grabbing his sword sheath from off the floor. "Yeah, I do. I thought so when I first saw you." 

You huff, "Wish you'd have just admitted to that from the start."

"Well," Aki stands up straight, tossing the strap of his sheath over his shoulder. A soft, ever-so slight smile forms on his face. "If I had done that, we wouldn't have had as much fun, now would we?" 

He rustles around in his pockets, finding his keys. The keyring jingles when he places them in your open hands. You examine them: there's a couple of silver keys, a metal tag with his last name, and a small label of a three digit number. His apartment number, you assume. 

"So…" You start, looking up at him, "I guess this means we'll be working together from now on, yeah? You better not argue with me the whole time. I'd like to do my job in peace, you know." 

Aki smiles a little bit wider. "Don't worry. I think we'll get along just fine." 

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. 

The endless lull of the clock on the wall would be enough to make Aki fall asleep, if he wasn't busy finishing up paperwork. 

He sighs, learning back further in his office chair, rubbing some of the tiredness from his eyes with his hands. Even though he rushed to the Public Safety building the second he was finished with his assignments, it still feels like he's been here forever. Thankfully, he's nearly done filling out papers. Soon, he'll be able to head home. 

As he stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, counting each speckle of popcorn in the drywall, he wonders if you're still at his place, or if you've left already. He told you to make yourself at home, so perhaps you're still there, watching late-night television. Maybe you raided his fridge and ate all his leftovers. 

A small part of him hopes you'll be there when he arrives, greeting him at the door as he walks in. Or maybe curled up asleep on the couch, because you couldn't stay awake any longer. He definitely wouldn't blame you. 

A gentle knock at the door stirs him from his thoughts. Aki sits up straight, and a voice from behind it quietly asks, "Can I come in?" 

"Yes." Aki answers, and he swivels his chair towards the door just as it opens. A woman with long, braided red hair steps in, and she greets him with a soft smile and a wave. 

"How was today?" Makima asks, closing the door, then crossing her arms behind her back. "What do you think of our new recruit? Did you two get along?" 

"They're…" Aki narrows his eyes. He taps the tip of his pen idly against the desk. "...Interesting." 

"Do you think they'll be useful?" 

Aki scoffs, "They like to mess around more than they like to work, but it's nothing we can't whip back into shape, so, yes. I would say so." 

"Hm, alright," Makima places a hand to her chin, cocking her head slightly. "I saw the paperwork you left on my desk. You made a request to change your buddy, didn't you?" 

"Oh, yes ma'am. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I'm just surprised is all. I thought for sure you two would end up hating each other. I suppose I was wrong." 

Aki stays silent for a moment. Yeah, that's what he thought too, wasn't it? When this day started, all he could do was count down the minutes until it was over in his head, until he wouldn't have to deal with you anymore. But now, he can't even focus on his paperwork because he's too busy thinking about you, too busy wondering when he'll get to see you again. 

Damn, when did he get so obsessed? Was it by your doing, or was it his? 

He doesn't know, so he just shakes his head and replies, "I thought so too. But I guess… I don't." 

Makima eyes him up and down for a moment. "Well, as long as you fill out all the necessary paperwork, and make sure you get our new recruit to fill it out as well, I can approve your request." 

Aki nods. "Okay, thank you." 

Makima turns to leave. Aki turns back to his paperwork. The clock continues to tick, and his pen scratches the desk as he checks a box, then messily signs his name in cursive. The door opens with a creak, Makima takes one step out, but then she abruptly turns around. 

"Oh, and Hayakawa?" 

Aki looks up. "Yeah?" 

"The next time I have you two patrol together, make sure you actually get some work done. I'm enlisting you two to hunt devils, not fuck on the job." 

And with that, Makima steps out of the office, leaving Aki to stare wide-eyed and red-faced at the door as it swings shut. 

[zonnesproetje]

im just a normal girl . i sit near a body of water and immediately experience the entire range of human emotions

[winedark-maverick]

i love you green. i love you forests. i love you smell of damp earth. i love you feeling before the storm breaks. i love you moss. i love you rivers. i love you streams. i love you thunderstorms. i love you sunlight shining through leaves.

[qurbatpdf-deactivated20230316]

i love you purple i love you lavender i love you lilac i love you wisteria i love you violet i love you mauve i love you periwinkle i love you amethyst i love you

[eddiesweetiee]

ok based on this gif i reblogged — pervert!bestfriend!eddie + innocent!reader below <33

minors dni i will scream so loud

also i wanted him to wear the bandana + green jacket outfit from s4 bc i like it a lot ok ! also this is like ? kind of dark ? if you squint ? read with caution idk eddies a real perv with dark thoughts #imacreepimaweirdo

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧

eddie loved your bedroom.

now, it was clearly not to his tastes— but it was so distinctly you. it was always the perfect temperature, no matter the weather outside. it was always clean and tidy, no empty beer bottles hanging around or smoke lingering in the air much alike his own room. your girly interior was always blanketed in a warm glow from your bedside lamp and the candles you had lit. everything was so delicate and pretty, and he stuck out like a sore thumb — but he’ll get into that more later.

eddie munson had a thing for turning up unannounced. truthfully, it was because he was hoping to catch you changing or better, fresh out the shower. often when he’d be climbing the wooden grid littered with flowers along side your house that he used as a ladder up to your room, he’d fantasise. his cock would bloat in his jeans as he imagines what it would be like to show up to your window, hiding himself as he realises you’re just exiting your shower— hair dripping, towel long discarded, steam still emanating off your hot, damp, naked body. he’d let the fantasy play out, imagining you become aroused in the safety and privacy (so you think) of your room and straddle a pillow, grinding into it as he watches— hopefully thinking about him. but perhaps that was a step too far— from what he had gathered he wasn’t even too convinced you knew how to get yourself off, or that it was even an option.

besides this, he really did like hanging out. you were best friends after all, an unlikely pair — and perhaps he did take great advantage over the fact you were so accepting towards him and gentle in nature, not bothered by your differences. he simply preferred your company the most — and eddie had lots of good friends, whether it be from band or his hellfire club minions. you were just his best friend. his best friend who he was totally besotted with.

 

 on this day, when he popped up at your window hopefully he was met with the serene sight of you laying on your stomach on your pink bed. the bed was made as usual, pillows and seemingly unnecessary decorative cushions stacked high— stuffed animals of all variety practically taking up half of the bed. you were wearing the tiniest white pyjamas he’d even seen, and from this angle he could even see how your ass was practically swallowing the material, tits pushed together as you leant on your elbows invested in a book.

he enjoyed the sight for a second longer before wrapping his knuckles twice on the window, glancing around incase someone might be watching him— a neighbour perhaps. he looked back at you to see you smiling fondly at him, calm as ever. you were never alarmed when he’d turn up, always welcoming him in with no skittishness or fast movement, only adding to how dreamlike it felt being in your room. perhaps he made you feel safe, and that thought warmed his heart (and crotch.)

you gestured with your hands to simply lift the window, mouthing a happy “its open!” and he did so, palms turning white against the glass as he pushed it up, panting a little as he stumbled through the window, adjusting the khaki coloured jacket and tightening the black bandana wrapped around his head.

“hi.” you smiled softly, turning back to your book, skipping back a few words having lost where you were, tracing your manicured finger along the lines to find an appropriate sentence to backtrack to. your voice was quiet, sleepy almost and he assumed that could be the case— white antique bedside clock reading 9:01PM, the sky outside bruised with a inky violet tint to further provide evidence and to his knowledge, you went to bed at 10 each night.

“what are you reeeeading?” he sung, dimpled smile on his face as he swaggered over to the bed and leant over you, placing two hands beside you to peer over your head at the book, which caused you to flip the book over to show him the front cover. he didn’t really have much interest, the purple front cover showing a couple wrapped in loose yet revealing fabrics embracing eachother on a beach. “you wanna read to me again?” he pushed himself off his hands, laying himself horizontally on the end of your bed, having a direct view up your covered ass if he turned his head to the left.

“oh i can’t read this out loud.” you giggled, eyes still on your book as you were distracted— still trying to find the spot you were at before eddie emerged.

“oh c’mon, why not?” he complained, tickling the back of your leg making you squirm and kick him.

“theres lots of…kissing scenes. it gets very heated and i can’t bring myself to say all of that out loud.” you brought your voice down, almost as if you were scared of being caught talking about reading such books. a grin spread wider on his face as he turned his head, eyes on your ass as he replied. though you weren’t looking at him he feigned a shocked expression, hand coming up to clutch his chest.

“kissing scenes? now that is just scandalous.” he shook his head, curls rustling on your soft bed sheets.

“i know.” you replied in the same tone, not quite grasping that he was being sarcastic. he huffed a laugh to himself and faced the ceiling again, deep brown eyes taking in the glittering chandelier.

“y’mind if i hang here for a while? things were getting pretty boring over on my side of the tracks. i was trying to plan for a new campaign but i have zero creative flow. decided i needed t’hang out in an overwhelmingly pink bedroom for a while to shock my system back awake.” he smirked, picking up a stray teddy bear you had kicked aside and fiddling with it continuing to lay on his back.

“of course eddie. you’re always welcome here.” you turned your head round to send him a smile and he turned his head again your way, taking in your beauty for a second as he smiled back.

“thats very kind, sweetheart. you can go back to reading your book now— i’m just gonna chill out, don’t worry about me.”

so you enjoyed eachothers presence for a while in comfortable silence— the only sound being of the odd pitter patter of rain on the window, indiana prone to the odd unreliable shower this time of year, and the turning of pages from your book.

one thing eddie loved more than your room, was being in it. never in a million years would you expect to see someone like him in the bedroom of someone like you. there was pink everywhere he turned, plushies at every corner— and him, slap bang in the centre of it all, all spikes and hard edges. he always was branded a freak, and he never cared too much for being branded as different his whole life but this was one of those times where he’d fucking revel in it. he wasn’t sure why at first, often entertaining the idea that the caveman side to his brain just was exhilarated by colour contrast— but on further examination and acceptance of his pervert ways he came to the conclusion it was because it aroused the fantasy to be an intruder.

many nights he spent fucking his fist thinking about what would happen if your parents barged in to find their sweet little girl spread open by the hawkins newspaper’s current muse for satanic panic, he thought about stealing your used panties and jerking his cock raw until he was spilling his hot seed into the pink cotton, now soiled for life by his deviance. he wanted to take your first orgasm, have you corrupted until the innocent girl he knew was unrecognisable, crying and begging to be fucked by him again. he wanted to climb into your room at night and find you sleeping naked, only to slide in beside you and rub your sleepy body up against his. he wanted to be gross, and he couldn’t even hate himself for it anymore because it felt too good.

it had probably been 20 minutes of comfortable silence as he laid there in deep thought, listening to you quietly turn pages. as expected, these dirty thoughts had consumed his brain and being so close to you with a direct view of your ass, legs parted just enough for him to see the slit of your pussy prominent through the white material, fabric folded up into it slightly— he felt his dick getting harder with each passing second.

the thing about being horny, is that it kind of clouds your judgement. makes you do things you wouldn’t normally do. your book had reached an incredibly steamy scene, the two characters kissing and rubbing on eachother in a way you didn’t know could make you feel the way you would. you were so invested, pretty much having forgot eddie was even there to begin with. as you read, you felt your core grow tight, shorts feeling a little damper and you body heat rising. without even realising, your legs parted a little further, and if you squint — you were squirming, absentmindedly rubbing your covered pussy on the bed like a little kitten in heat.

you turned the page with trembling fingers, and eddie simply watched in curiosity. he already had a palm laying over his crotch, rubbing himself guiltily staring at your ass as you read— but it appeared his fantasy was coming alive before his very eyes as he watched you squirm heatedly, parting your legs just that little further to reveal a small but obvious wet patch in your shorts.

eddies eyebrows pretty much shot into his hairline. there was no way he got this lucky right? he must’ve fallen asleep laying there for so long and was having some kind of torturous wet dream. he stared, watching you— feeling the body heat seep off you from where you were as the damp spot grew. it was real, right in front of him. somehow, the heavens had opened and the stars had aligned that night and he had been gifted with his very own horny angel. if he didn’t atleast try his luck, he’d regret it forever. now or never, he thought. let’s just test the waters.

he moved slowly, calculatedly. his eyes were big and blown out as they flickered between his hand and you as he edged it towards you— not wanting to make any sudden movements and break you out of your trance. he laid his hand on the back of your thigh gently and you jolted slightly making him bite back a wince, seemingly having reminded you of his presence. however, you clearly thought you were being subtle enough — and quite liked how his hand felt there in your heated moment and decided not to say anything, continuing to read your steamy book, feeling more flushed than ever.

he relaxed a little, massaging the back of your thigh slowly, thumb rubbing circles into your soft skin— and just like that it seemed your legs spread just a little wider. he grinned like a wolf, tongue coming to rest on his lower lip for a moment as he felt himself become fully hard— the pulsing in his jeans feeling neglected. he held his breath, moving his hand slowly towards your ass and you didn’t stop him. you didn’t really know what was happening to you, but you knew you liked it.

he moved onto the soft doughy flesh of your ass and he felt your body relax more into the bed with a sigh.

“eds, why you doing that?” you mumbled. your voice sounded weak, strained. poor little sheep, doesn’t even know what she’s getting herself into. all she knows is that she likes it.

“i like your pyjamas. you — uh— m’ gonna be honest, you look so fucking pretty.” he comment breathily with a sheepish chuckle, gripping the soft fabric between his fingers for a moment. he saw your head bob with a nod.

“oh, okay.”

“‘that alright? me touchin’ you?” he stroked his hand over your ass again.

“yes, makes me feel… strange. a good strange. i quite like it.” you whispered shyly, not daring to turn round and meet his eye. his smile only widened, teeth bared like a predator sneaking up on its prey.

“yeah. like a massage right? you just keep reading your book, i’ll have my fun back here.” he waved you off casually— like this was totally normal between best friends. you seemed to pause like you wanted to say something, but instead turned the page.

he was now groping your ass with both hands, he couldn’t believe his luck. how far could he get away with taking this? he was hard as a rock and it was becoming increasingly clear that you had desires of your own — just unsure what to do with them. and boy oh boy was he the perfect teacher for you, he just had to ease you in…slowly.

he was beginning to pity you, really. squirming on your bed, soaking through your shorts at just a romantic book and a pair of hands on your ass. he couldn’t call it pathetic, knowing all the deprived shit he had thought about— better yet gotten himself off thinking about— but it was enough to bite back a chuckle at how easily excited you clearly were. he liked to think of himself as someone who was sent to help you and relieve you of this ache, and that’s just what he was going to do. he pushed your thighs open a little wider, beginning to thumb at the puffy covered lips between your legs, feeling the damp material on the pad of his thumb.

“eddie! now why are you doing that?” you gasped, but the moan threatening to spill from the back of your throat betrayed you as you pushed back ever so slightly into his thumb.

“does it feel nice? best friends do this kinda thing all the time, you know. pretty normal to just… help eachother out like this.” he continued, pushing his thumb through your fabric covered folds up to your clit making your legs jerk, a whimper forced out your throat. his voice was oddly calm and collected, despite how much adrenaline was pumping through his veins. “oh yeah?” he laughed quietly at your reaction.

“yes.” you tell him, arching your back a little into his touch. you didn’t question anything else. you trusted him, and often what he said you’d just accept as bible.

“good. you can keep reading, i know that helps.” he was using two fingers to rub you now, sat up on an elbow to get a better look. whilst his fingers ground into your mound, his thumb snuck up, caressing the slit up to your ass, rubbing lightly over your asshole.

before long, you were panting— and he was convinced he could probably make you cum just from this. but he wanted to get his moneys worth, not sure if you’d ever let him do something like this again. he wanted to see how far he could push his luck. he pushed himself up slowly, kneeling between your spread legs and placed two hands on both ass cheeks, chuckling quietly as he jiggled them, chin to his chest as he admired the recoil.

“why’d you stop?” you asked rather abruptly, voice whiny and yet meek — a hint of guilt, knowing you shouldn’t necessarily be letting him do this to you whilst your parents are downstairs.

“talk about eager, you really like being touched by your best friend huh.” he snickered, ring clad fingers looping into your shorts, tugging them down little by little— revealing your peachy ass. “ah, fuck me. perfect little thing aren’t you?” he muttered.

“what you were doing before felt really good.” he sensed the sulky-ness in your tone as you rested your cheek on your hands defeatedly, pout on your face. he shook his head with an adoring smile at this, cock practically leaking at how badly you wanted him.

“yeah, yeah. i’m gonna help you out— but you gotta help me too you know. that’s how this works.” he yanked your shorts completely off now. he collapsed back, as if satisfied with his undressing work— sitting on his feet. his eyes were glued down, now checking out your pretty pussy glistening under the dim lights. he winced, making a little o shape with his mouth as he furrowed his brows, enamoured by delicious it looked. taking two thumbs, he placed them either side and spread you— relishing in the way a distinctly ‘wet’ sound hit the air from this. “you ever get this soaked before? jesus.” he raised his brows and you shrugged, eyes closed enjoying his touch. “mm. anyway—” he pushed himself back onto his knees, starting to undo his belt buckle.

“uh, can you pick your least favourite stuffed animal for me?” he request and you opened your eyes, half lidded and distracted, reaching out for a big brown bear and handing it back to him. “yeah. yeah, this’ll do.” he took it with his free hand.

once his belt buckle was undone and his jacket was thrown somewhere off your bed he took your hips in his hands and easily hoisted them up— shoving the bear beneath you, ass now elevated slightly and your pussy spread on the brown fur— already leaking a little onto it. poor bear!

now let’s get one thing straight, eddie was a perv— but he wasn’t a bad man. he wasn’t going to fuck you today, no no. that would hurt way too much, and honestly take too much time to get you ready for that— he needed to get off, and if he didn’t start jerking his dick soon he was pretty sure his balls were gonna explode. he just needed his pretty little muse to lay there and be good, and if you could still look him in the eye afterwards then maybe he’d be happy to go further. like mentioned before, being horny really fucking clouds your judgement.

now he got you positioned how he wanted you, he pulled out his cock, not even bothering to pull his jeans all the way down — just undoing his buttons and pulling them down just enough to free himself. he spat into his hand and shuddered as he tugged his cock a few times, taking in the sight below him as he kneeled between your spread legs. at this moment, you chose to crane your neck round, eyes widening at the obscene sight behind you.

his deep brown eyes locked on yours, slowly spreading his saliva along the shaft. something about the sight had you gushing onto the bear, shifting your hips again and your eyes fluttered, nearly rolling back as the fur passed up over your clit. you ground down experimentally on it, mouth falling open as your feet hooked round the back of his legs where he was kneeling.

“fucking jesus.” he huffed, watching you grind on your teddy bear, pussy smushed against it— audibly opening and closing making him jerk himself faster. “keep doing that. you sweet, sweet girl. keep doing that.” he leant forward, hand pressing onto your back, letting it take some of his weight as he hunched over you. you were moaning now, thrusting hard into your bear soaking the fur.

“eddie, feels too good. i’ve never— i haven’t ever —” you cried, ass now slapping against his lower thighs with each time you ground back.

“i know. it’s okay, i know. we’re just helping eachother out, yeah? being such a good girl, just like i thought you’d be— my god.” he groaned, his own cheeks heating up at how close he was. he couldn’t blame himself, he had wanted this for so long and it was truly better than what he’d imagined he’d get the first time he made a move on you.

“do you…” you went to ask, but cut yourself off with a moan, book discarded as you buried your head into your cushions.

“do i what, baby? do i what?”

“do you still think— still think i’m a good girl even after this?”

if he wasn’t so focused on not busting just yet to savour the moment, his heart would have warmed at the sweet question. luckily for him, his mouth works on overtime and spoke before he could think.

“you’re always my good girl. i know you like being my good girl. i know you do.” he babbled, rubbing a messy circle on your back with his thumb as his other hand continued working himself. he removed it for a second to lift his shirt up his stomach, feeling hot and bothered as ever.

“i like being called that.” you whined, the most vocal you’d ever been— usual shy persona being discarded more and more with each passing moment. it’s crazy what lust will make you do.

“yeah? want you to let go then. when you — fuck— when you feel your tummy getting all tight just let it happen, ‘kay?” he had to slow down his ministrations, holding back. you replied with an obedient ‘mhm’ and before you knew it you were clenching around nothing, riding hard against the pillow and muffling your loud moans into the cushions— praying to every god that your parents couldn’t hear your bed frame creaking.

“that’s it — oh wow— jesus fucking christ. jesus fucking christ that’s it. good girl.” he groaned, his own voice whiny as he let himself go, sticky white seed releasing onto your bare ass and back as your movements slowed, panting and trying to recover. he pretty much covered you in his load as you laid there motionless, comprehending all that had just happened.

munson caught his breath, cracking his eyes open to stare at the scene he had created below him. damn, if only he had his polaroid with him — he thought. next time.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧

sorry this is kinda ooc, he was pretty much horny from start to finish so he didn’t have much time to be his goofy charming self :///

[sparklingsin]

— five ways to say i love you | steve harrington

+ steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: fluff, banter, steve being steve, some angst, some gore - like in the show, s4 canon adjacent

a/n: no summary since this is pretty self-explanatory. hope you have a good read! feedback is appreciated!

one.

The Wheeler basement is warm, separated from the world, the Upside-Down, the lab. Shielded from trouble. A distraction from whatever danger lies ahead. The kids are sitting around a table with Eddie, who is making a face at them — they’re engrossed in what seems to be quite a stressful game of DnD. You don’t try to pretend that you understand it.

Nancy is half-asleep on Robin’s shoulder who is reading the latest “Teen Beat”. Beside you, Steve’s busy shooting daggers at the kids table, one of his arms curled behind you on the couch. Not quite touching you, but close enough that you remember it’s there once every few minutes.

Keep reading

[djoslider-deactivated20230802]

steve harrington outfit rankings (as voted by my followers) ↴

5. “Yellow Sweatshirt” Season 4 - 271 votes

[djoslider-deactivated20230802]

steve harrington outfit rankings (as voted by my followers) ↴

4. “Blue & White Polo + Grey Jacket” Season 4 - 274 votes

[gettingrailedbyreid-deactivated]

paint it, yellow

A/N: I want to write so much more for this au, it just warms my heart.

Summary: new to town, Y/n bumps into a man at the hardware store that turns out to be her new neighbour...

Warnings: Steve Harrington/Reader, farmer!Steve, neighbours, renovating a house (aka my fucking wet dream), sending a package to the wrong address, just a lot of fluff

Word count: 1186

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Masterlist

At the edge of Hawkins' vast forest, there was a house. A little cabin. And that cabin was now all yours. You didn’t grow up in Indiana, but when you felt the wind calling your name, straight away, these two stories just felt like home. 

The real estate agent didn’t understand why a pretty young thing like yourself would wanna buy a run-down sack such as this. Why not? Sure, it needed a little TLC, alright, maybe a lot of TLC, but you didn’t mind getting your hands dirty, learning a new skill or two. 

And that was precisely why you now stood in the back of the small local hardware store, buying paint. 

Some might say that starting on the outside was the wrong order to do things in, but to that, you just said screw you! I’ll do it in the order I see fit! If the first thing I wanna do is paint the outside of my house, then that’s what I’ll goddamn do!

Now, the owner of this establishment clearly had something against the colour yellow, because the massive cans were on the very top shelf. Lifting yourself up onto your toes, just the tips of your fingers barely kissed the cold tin. Giving it a small poke, it scooted forward, just an inch, but enough that it was now peeping out over the edge. 

This might be how you die, being crushed by a big bucket of paint, and honestly, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go. You’d made your bed, might as well lie in it. 

Giving the whole shelf a whack with the root of your palm did more than you were prepared for. Ready for your untimely demise, it came crashing down upon you, but just before you expected to feel the impact, a pair of quick hands came into view, catching it just above your nose. 

“Woah!” a man behind you huffed, “I’ve got it, I’ve got it!”

Turning around to help the surprisingly handsome stranger, your hands mysteriously lost all of their strength and just ended up resting against the container rather than actually aiding in lifting it. 

“T-thank you,” you blinked up into his coffee eyes. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, “unless you were trying to just cover yourself in, um,” looking down to read the label on the large tin, “banana cream dream paint, then I’m sorry. You can just stand there, and I’ll gladly help pour it over you.”

“What, like a wet t-shirt contest but with paint?” you jested through a breathy laugh. Seeing his eyebrows shoot up, you quickly shook your head, looking down, deeply regretting your humour, “I’m sorry, that was a joke…”

“It’s okay,” he smirked, then nodded up towards the high shelf, “you need help getting anymore down?”

“Just like, um, 3 more, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course not,” he placed the one in his grasp down in the shopping cart by your side, then proceeded to reach up, making his shirt ride up a bit, flashing you just a sliver of skin. “So, what are you painting?”

Trying to cover up your staring as just looking at the shelf closest to his body, you blushed, “my house.”

“A yellow house?” the idea seemed to make him smile… that or he was just a very polite person. 

“Yeah, with white details and stuff…”  

Placing the last bucket down in the cart, he pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, “I hope it turns out well. I’ll keep an eye out for a yellow house.”

The rhythmic knocking at your door was nearly impossible to hear over the loud banging you were creating, tearing down the old orangey cabinets in the kitchen. 

Taking a moment between swings to catch your breath, you finally heard it. Eyes growing big, you dropped the large hammer to the floor, “oh… oh!” and scrambled down the narrow hallway, “I’m coming, just a second!” you bellowed just as you reached the white front door, “I’m so sorry about that,” you swung it open, not yet looking up to see whom it was, but down at yourself for just a second longer as you brushed some of the dust and such off of yourself, “I couldn’t hear you over the-,” your eyes finally flicked up to meet the faintly familiar pair of brown ones, “hi…”

“Hey,” the stranger from the store smiled, tearing his eyes off the fresh paint job, he shifted a large beige package on his hip, “the yellow really turned out great.”

“What are you doing here? How did you…”

“I believe this is yours,” he jutted out his hip, drawing your attention down to the box, “if your name is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Oh, it finally came! Are you the mailman?” you looked him up and down, “you’re not dressed like one…”

“No, no,” he chuckled lightly, “I’m not, but this was sent to my address.”

“No, really?” you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. 

“It’s fine, your name was still on it, and I know the rest of my neighbours pretty well, so the process of elimination was easy enough.” 

“I am so sorry.”

“Y/n, it’s fine. I get it, it can take a while before a new address clicks in to place and you remember it correctly.” 

“Yeah, evidently…” you breathed out. 

“So,” he shifted the package once again into a more comfortable hold, ”this is like really heavy, can I come inside and set it down?”

“Oh my goodness, yes, of course,” you stepped aside for him to shimmy past, “just here in the hallway is fine.” As he gingerly placed it on the wooden floor, you suddenly became very grateful that the urge you’d felt this morning was to attack the kitchen and the hall, “I’m sorry about the mess.”

“Ah, it’s not that bad,” he straightened back up, “considering.”

Eyeing him maybe a bit inappropriately as he ran his fingers through his voluminous mane, you took a deep breath, “so, you said you live around here?”

“I do,” he smiled, “you know that orchard you drive past right before swinging down this road?” The countless apple trees had been hard not to notice, so you nodded in affirmation. “That's where I live.”

“Waow, and here I thought you were just the dude from the hardware store.”

“Hey, who said I can’t be both? Dude from the hardware store, but also your new neighbour,” he reached out his hand to shake yours. 

Wiping your now slightly clammy palm against your thigh before grasping his, “and does this dude perhaps have a name?”

“Steve Harrington.”

“Well, Steve, it’s very nice to meet you, I’m-”

“Y/n,” he filled in with a smile, letting go of your hand, “I know.”

“Right,” you breathed out, looking back down at the package, “thank you again for bringing over the tiles. I have been just itching to get on with the bathroom, but I kinda needed those before I could move on with anything else, so thank you.”

“Tiles?” he exclaimed, “that’s why it was so heavy…”

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Sfw only

@preciousbabypeter @evaareids

[fleurfairie-deactivated20230703]

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: best friend!steve x oblivious!reader, friends to lovers, fluffy!steve, romantic!steve, mutual pining, steve harrington hc. steve brainrot.

thinking about steve being completely in love with his best friend and he doesn’t care that it’s obvious to everyone else because he knows she’s so in her head that she’s oblivious and everyone is like “hOW doesn’t she know?” bc steve is romantic as shit with her, buys her flowers, tucks her hair behind her ears when he’s listening to her, absolutely ignores everyone when she’s around, has major heart eyes and is almost hypnotized when she talks or laughs; he will walk away in the middle of someone talking to him without a second thought because she called his name, writes shit like “my girl” or “my angel” on a polaroid of her, draws fucking hearts with their initials whenever he’s bored, kisses her cheeks all! the! time!— definitely refers to her as His Girl to other people but omg she is oblivious and whenever she rarely wonders if there’s more to it she doesn’t think he’d ever feel for her like she feels for him and it’s angsty but there’s so much fucking pining and fluffy!steve. :’((( she’s always daydreaming about steve, head buried in books, headphones with music playing constantly unless steve’s with her, doesn’t really get social cues and is kinda anxious all the time, she’s shy and giggly and often misses the meaning of dirty jokes, gets lost easily and forgets words often so steve, who is always entirely focused on her, helps her find her words and he’s just so in love with her

[nibeul]

I miss you more than I remember you

[id: It's a drawing of Gojo standing in front of a display window. He is wearing his usual outfit as a teacher though one hand is lifting his blindfold to look at the TVs in front of him. The screens display various pictures of Geto though only one shows his full face: the first is him and Gojo as Highschoolers, Geto with a cigarette and Gojo with a lollipop which he is pressing to Geto's cig. The next is a close up of Geto's eye and then after, a snapshot of Geto sitting in a classroom with most of his face out of frame. Below, Gojo and Geto's hands are interlocked, and then there is Geto standing in Okinawa with his red floral shirt, one hand outstretched toward the viewer. Next to this is a close up of Geto's smile. The last three are a close up of Geto's ear/gauge, waves rolling on Okinawa beach, and then Geto's side profile. The display window illuminates Gojo and the surrounding area. /end id]

[familyvideostevie]

Hi hello🍄✨🌼 I would like to ask for a friends to lovers Eddie munson x fem reader, where Eddie's announcing to the reader that he's going on a date with a girl and it gets a bit angsty and they stop talking for a while but eventually she admits that that she likes him and they get together. If this is too much or not your thing feel free to ignore. Hope you have a great day ✨🌼

darling! i hope this works for you, let me know! <3 angst w fluff at the end! | 2.3k, fem!reader

The sun is warm on your face as you wait for Eddie to get out of class. You're meant to go to the library today to work on his history paper, but he's late. You don't really mind, since it's a rare early spring day in Hawkins. Having the day off, you walked to the school and chanced a skirt today, glad to stretch your legs out in front of you where you sit on the steps. The sounds of the campus are soothing as you close your eyes, chin tipped up. Someone playing frisbee, cars starting and stopping, skateboards over the pavement. Shouts and laughter. It's a perfect day. 

"Don't be late tomorrow, Wheeler! You too, Henderson!" Eddie's voice from behind you makes you smile, warmth spreading through your chest at the sound. 

Being friends with Eddie has made your life better in so many ways -- he is kind and caring, sure, but he is funny and brings you out of your shell. He has introduced you to a gaggle of other teens and they've welcomed you into the fold. Eddie makes your life full and makes you so happy you could burst.

Maybe it was only par for the course that you've fallen in love with him. But, friends you stay, because that is enough for you. And if sometimes you think Eddie's gaze lingers on your lips, or if he holds you a little tighter than necessary when you sleep over? Maybe someday you'll ask him about it. But first, getting him to the end of the school year and into a job at the record store with you.

You keep your eyes closed as you feel him plop down next to you, chain scraping the stone steps. He bumps his shoulder with yours. 

"Now, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this?" The corners of your mouth turn up but you try to muster a frown. You open your eyes and allow yourself to drink him in for just a moment. Warm eyes, wide grin, messy hair. Your Eddie, pretty as a picture. 

"Waiting for someone who is late," you cry, mocking affront. "I'm burning to a crisp out here."

"Looks like you're enjoying it," he smirks, running an index finder over the freckles on your cheeks."You look like a dandelion in the sun."

"Are you calling me a weed, Eddie?" You roll your eyes and stand up, brushing off your skirt. His eyes follow your movements, and you pretend not to notice. "Real nice."

"A pretty weed, babe. Honest." You snort and he laughs as you walk to his van. "And I know my weed." No doubt the sun has warmed your cheeks some, which is a good thing since you're definitely blushing.

He pulls out of the school parking lot and heads towards town after you've hopped in and buckled up.

"Y'know," he starts, glancing over at you. You're already looking at him, of course, and he smirks. "I was late because the weirdest thing happened."

"I heard you talking to Mike and Dustin. Hellfire stuff?" He shakes his head. 

"No, just ran into them as I was leaving." He pauses, fingers tapping a random rhythm on the steering wheel. "Lester asked me to go out with her this Friday. To her brother's gig in the city."

"Kate Lester? From your English class?" You furrow your brow and look out the window. You feel a little mean for being surprised. 

"You know her?" 

"A little," you say. She'd been your lab partner your senior year. She's kind and pretty, a year younger than you, and going to University of Cincinnati in the fall, according to Nancy. 

"What's she like?" Eddie huffs. "She's never talked to me before, really."

"Then why did you say yes?" The question comes before you can stop it. His eyebrows raise and he searches your face for something before looking away. Your shoulders drop. 

"Well, she asked, I guess." He shrugs. "Seems to think I'll like some amateur punk music. Don't know where she got that idea." He looks at you to see if you'll laugh at him, but you're focused on the road. 

"She's nice," you say, and you mean it. She is nice. "I'm sure you'll have a great time." You try to keep your voice bright because you really do want him to have a nice date, even if it's with someone who doesn't know him like you do, with someone who doesn't already love every inch of him. Eddie is a catch, anyone should be able to see that. 

It's just that you thought everyone knew you and Eddie were youandEddie. Even if you're just friends, it's been you two against the world for a while. Late nights watching him practice his guitar, staying over in the trailer after helping him study, long walks when he has nightmares. You've got a drawer of his clothes in your room and he made you the guest of honor at Hellfire Club for your birthday and he visits you at work whenever he can. You know that he loves you, but maybe it's not ever going to be the way you love him. 

"What's wrong, sweet thing?" The pet name makes you shiver. His hand reaches over and cups your knee, thumb pressing into the bare skin, his rings leaving little indents. His eyes flick between you and the road and you feel a little guilty, but can't muster the will to pretend. 

"Headache," you mumble. He gives you a squeeze before letting go. 

"Do you want me to take you home?" His voice is soft, gentle with you in that way of his. 

You shake your head. "We agreed to do your essay today, Eds." He's smart on his own, but he works harder when you're there to encourage him. 

"I can read and write, you know. I'll be fine on my own, honest. I'll drop you at home."

"You sure?" You're going to be no help anyway, now that you're sulking over a date that hasn't even happened yet. He nods.

That night you try not to think about it but you fail. Your brain is fuzzy all week at work, but when Friday rolls around you put on a brave face. 

"We're leaving right after school," he tells you at lunch -- he's driven over to see you on your break during his free period. "Driving into the city and then back tonight."

"Be safe, okay?" you say. "No drinking." Eddie is a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. Still, you can't help but make him promise. 

"I'd never," he replies, seriously. "We'll just see some shitty music and be back before midnight, probably."

"Are you excited?" you ask, running your hands through your hair to stop yourself from brushing his out of his face. 

He hums noncommittally. "Lotta driving for a first date," he huffs, as if it just occurred to him. "Didn't even know she knew my name till this week."

If you didn't know him so well you'd say he was self conscious. "Oh, stop that," you say. "You're a catch, Eddie Munson, you hear me? She's lucky to be going on a date with you."

Eddie fixes his gaze on you and looks and looks and looks. You meet his stare with your own, until he breaks and grabs your hand, dragging it up for a sweet kiss. Your heart breaks a little, but you smile. 

____

You don't know why you do it, really, but you avoid Eddie for the whole weekend after his date. And the entire week after. You sit in the break room during lunch in case he comes in, and pick up extra shifts to beg off when he asks you to hang out. You even go to the skatepark with Max. Anything to keep you busy. A small, ugly part of you wonders if he even notices. 

Robin calls you from work a week after you last really spoke to Eddie.

"Do you know why Munson is in Family Video right now looking like a kicked puppy?" she asks, the line crackling. "Steve is telling him he's scaring away customers."

"Why did you call me about it?" you ask, twirling the phone chord around your fingers. It's Saturday night and you would bet that it's just the three of them in the store.

"Don't be dense," Robin replies, not unkindly. "Does this have to do with his date last week?"

"Robin, shh! Can he hear you?" You pause. "Wait, how do you even know about that?"

"Kate told Carol in the locker room and Vickie overheard and told me. Do you even know how it went?" She sighs. "Of course you don't, since Eddie has told us no less than four times that you haven't spoken for a week."

The guilt rises up in your throat. Have you gone and done the thing you wanted to prevent in the first place -- ruin your friendship?

"Is he mad?" you whisper into the phone. Robin barks a laugh. 

"Mad? Have you ever seen Eddie get mad? Other than that time when I made fun of his music. But at you? I don't think he can get mad at you." You rub at your eyes with your free hand. 

"Okay," you say. "Okay. Can you tell him to come over to my house, please?"

"Roger that," she chirps. It sounds like she pulls the phone away from her mouth before yelling, "Munson! Y/N wants you at her house, pronto."

You hear a faint Thank Christ from Steve and a Really? from Eddie. 

"Thanks, Robin," you say. 

"No, thank you," she laughs before hanging up.

The sun is setting, so you decide to throw on a sweatshirt and wait for him outside so you can go for a walk. You've barely sat on your stoop when Eddie's van pulls into your drive. He seems to steel himself before getting out. 

"Hey," he calls, his voice hoarse. You stand. It takes about four second of looking at him for you to start running and before you know it you're in his arms. He thunks back against the door of his van and you bury your face in his neck, his hair tickling you, but you don't mind. His hands stroke your back, up and down, and the tension seems to leak out of him. 

"Hey," you whisper, before you pull away from him just enough to see his face. He looks wrecked and your stomach twists. "I'm sorry, Eddie."

"No," he says loudly into the night. His hands come up to cup your face on either side. "No, I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm so fucking sorr--"

You place your fingers over his mouth. "You didn't do anything." He looks confused, so you continue. "This was all me, Eds. I've been a horrible friend to you this week and that's the last thing I wanted to do but I went ahead and did it anyway."

"Why?" he breathes. You take his hands in your own and draw them down between you. 

"I--," you start, then take a deep breath. "How was your date?" you ask. You need to know before you tell him. 

Eddie looks confused, but answers. "Music was fine. She just wanted me there to make the drummer in her brother's band jealous," he admits, rolling his eyes. Your eyebrows furrow at that. "It's okay though," he continues. "Because I'm not really into Kate."

"Oh," you let out. 

"But what does that have to do with you not talking to me?" His thumbs trace circles on your skin. His eyes have nothing but warmth for you and it gives you courage. He'll forgive you for this, you think. You can still be friends. 

"I want more than anything for you to be happy, Eddie," you say, and then lose your nerve at the last second, closing your eyes before continuing. "But I'm in love with you." His thumbs still. 

"And I know that's no excuse for how I've treated you this week, because we're friends first and you're my best friend and --" 

"Sweetheart," Eddie says, sounding breathless. "Look at me, please." Your eyes fly open. He's looking at you the way he looks at his guitar, the way he looks when he's finished a campaign he's proud of, the way he looks at you when you wake up next to him. 

He's looking at you like he always does, you realize. He's looking at you like he loves you. 

"Can you say it again?" he whispers. 

You don't hesitate. "I love you, Eddie." The words seem to pour out of you now. "I have for a while. And it made me jealous to hear you were going on a date, which I have no right to be, since you should be happy with whoever you wa--"

"Hey," he interrupts again, and this time you can see the beginnings of a smile on his face. "Let a guy talk, huh?" His hands return to your face and you nuzzle into one palm. "I am happy." He smiles. "Happy with you." He sighs, and it's a happy sound, before leaning in to kiss your forehead. "My best friend." His lips find your right cheek next to his hand, and then your left. "Girl of my dreams," he continues, and you're grinning, now. He kisses your nose and you giggle.

Eddie pulls away and you almost whine. He looks serious, but you can't stop smiling. 

"I'm in love with you," he says. "I love you. Can I kiss you?" You find the ability to nod somehow, since Eddie has just blown your world to pieces and you didn't know you could feel this happy. But as his lips find yours and your hands tangle in his hair, you think that you could get used to it. 

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

[cassiopeiaemiliagaunt]

Girlfriend | E.M.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is very drunk, doesn’t recognize you and tells you he has a girlfriend. 

Word count: 1k

Warnings: this is literally just 1k of fluff. There is a tiny bit of angst about the upside down, but not really. A lot of mentions of Eddie being drunk

Author’s note: Canon divergence, it’s not really ST4 Vol. 2 compliant. Also, established relationship! :))

Disclaimer: GIF isn’t mine ;))

Eddie Munson, the notorious drug dealer of Hawkins High and more importantly your loving boyfriend, never drank very much. Sure, he’d have the occasional beer during Corroded Coffin band rehearsals or after their performances in the Hide Out, but he almost never got hammered. He much preferred the high of a – or several – joints, relishing in the fact that the hangovers weren’t nearly as bad.

Which is why you’re very surprised to see your leather clad boyfriend quite drunk during Steve’s party at Harrington Manor, as you liked to call it. It is the first time you’ve ever seen him like this.

Keep reading

[hard-candy-writing]

'can i borrow your bed?' part ii

part i

summary: it's been weeks since eddie's room became your safe place for 'time to yourself.' but when your personal time gets unfortunately cut short, he's there to help out.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pure smut. perv!eddie, choking, masturbation (f and m), p in v, a teeny bit of oral (f receiving), slight dom!eddie, clit slapping (yeah we're going there). eddie calls reader 'sweetheart' and 'brat' and reader calls eddie a pervert.

a/n: you asked for it, lovelies. hopefully it lives up to your expectations! i go feral seeing your reactions <3

tags for my thirsty friends: @ghoul-lily, @ladydovahkiin180, @sage111222, @catramoon, @merlyagrindelwald, @hahahaeddiemunson , @l0ve-s1ckn3ss, @inkedaztec, @pedroswh0r3, @hateqlt, @faffacake, @brattypeony, @bietchz, @froglivr, @strangeh0rizons, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @hellfirehope, @eddiethesexy, @eddiemunsonslips, @angelbbygrl, @took-me-hours-to-steal-those, @lightmelikeamatch, @lulukings92, @my-tin-can-mans, @apricotpopsicle,

Snow fell heavy and silent as you drove the familiar route to Eddie's trailer. You leaned forward, squinting, as if that would help you see through the whiteout. It was already so dark. But you knew your way. You'd gone there often enough.

It had all started one summer afternoon. Eddie had lent you the privacy of his room so that you could try out your new vibrator -- to much success, in your opinion. Without a partner to help out (and with Eddie woefully oblivious to your feelings for him), that thing was all that stood between you and being pent up enough to snap at the most minor inconvenience.

It had also brought you closer to Eddie, weirdly. It seemed rude to just drop by, do your business, and leave. It wasn't like they wrote etiquette books on this type of thing. So you ended up spending more time with him, buying him a six pack to pay him back which he insisted on splitting. Watching movies, going out (before and after), smoking -- a lot. Until the lines between awkward and normal blurred, and suddenly going to his trailer to get off in peace was as average as going to one of his shows.

It wasn't weird with him. And it made you fall even harder.

You didn't bother knocking. It was too cold to wait for him to answer, anyway. You stomped the snow off your boots, locked the door, and followed the sound of Eddie singing. He was always humming, whistling, or mumbling music to himself. He was in his bedroom, grabbing a fresh pair of pants and a shirt. You sat down on the edge of his bed and crossed your legs under you.

"I can't believe you're dragging me to Harrington's house for a party," he grumbled as a greeting.

You rolled your eyes. "You like him. Everyone does."

"Everyone does," he mocked, wrinkling his nose as he grabbed a crumpled pair of jeans from the floor.

"Don't you own any jeans without tears in them?" you asked. "You're gonna be freezing."

"I run hot," he said.

"So you wouldn't mind me kicking you out for a few minutes?"

Eddie grinned but didn't look up at you as he fished out a pair of socks from his chest of drawers. "You want me to go for a walk? I can."

You shook your head. As the days had gotten colder, you felt worse about shoving Eddie out of his own house to give you privacy. You didn't always let out pornographic-level moans. He could be in the living room, reading a magazine, and seemed completely unfazed by you fooling around in the next room when you came out.

"I was about to hop in the shower," he said after grabbing a pair of boxers and adding it to his pile. "I'll be about ten minutes. Is that enough time?"

"Sure."

He left the room, waving over his shoulder as he went. "Have fun!" he called, and shut the door behind him.

Oh, you would. The thought of being with him all night, him searching you out in the crush of people, meeting his eyes from across the room... You didn't even need to tease yourself to get yourself going. The thought of him was enough.

It was always enough.

--

The water pressure was shit, but that was what trailer life entailed. A small stove, an even smaller water heater, and thin walls.

Very thin walls.

While Eddie couldn't hear the buzz of the vibrator over the rush of water, he could hear your moans. It was as if he was tuned into the sound, picking it out from the roar of the rest of the world. He was already hard from the thought of you -- that was enough -- and he shampooed and washed as quickly as he could. The rest of the shower would be spent with his hand around his cock; there would be no time between then and the party, after all.

He bit down on his lower lip to keep from groaning, forehead resting on the wall the bathroom shared with his bedroom.

Five minutes may have passed. Your moans were getting higher. He knew you were close; after so many months, he had memorized every gasp and squeak, every moan and sigh. He could tell when you were close to cumming, when you were frustrated, when you wanted it rough.

"Fuck!"

Eddie froze. He knew that, too, but not from your visits. He'd heard the same tone of voice when your car's engine gave out last winter, and again that past summer when you'd lost your favourite necklace. (He'd kept it under his pillow for a week, imagining tightening it around your throat while you laid under him, until he gave it back under the guise of finding it laying around.)

He poked his head out of the shower.

"Y/N?" he called, then cut the water. "Y/N, are you okay?"

"Y-You can hear me over the shower?"

He winced. "Y... Yeah."

"Oh... Whatever!" Frustration bled through every word. "Whatever, just... It's fine."

"Doesn't sound fine," he said as he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He left the bathroom and stood at the closed bedroom door. "What happened?"

"Stupid thing ran out of batteries."

"Oh." He frowned, uncertain of what to say. "I'm guessing the timing wasn't ideal?"

"Great deduction skills, Munson." You sighed heavily. He could hear the sheets shuffling. "You wouldn't happen to have any extras laying around, would you?"

"Not that I've seen."

"Well," you said after a moment. "I guess that ends that..."

"Or..."

It was stupid. That was the best part about it: he could just play it off as a joke, if it was too much. He could laugh and muss your hair and tease you about it after.

But if you said yes...

"Or?" you pressed, the silence between you loaded.

"Can I be of assistance?"

--

What? You, he... What?

You blinked, lips parted in shocked, staring at the door that stood between you. Your whole body still tingled, was still ready, still on the edge. But suddenly, it felt as if you were in a dream. You couldn't have heard him right.

"Are you serious?" you asked just as he followed up with, "I-It's no big deal to me."

You both laughed.

"Can I come in?" he asked. "I'm, I'm decent, by the way. Wearing a towel."

"Y-yeah," you said, tucking yourself further into the sheets.

Eddie stepped inside and shut the door behind him. You must have looked silly, his covers up to your chin. But you quickly forgot about what you looked like. You fought not to stare, the towel sitting low on his hips, one hand keeping it pinned closed. Water droplets still clung to his bare chest, making his tattoos glitter. His hair was longer, heavier with water, dripping as it clung to his neck and shoulders. The room was small, and you could feel the raging heat that radiated from his body.

"So were... were you serious?" you asked again. "Or are you just making fun of me?"

"I'd never make fun of you, sweetheart."

You scoffed. He gave you a crooked grin.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm serious. A friend in need, you know?"

"It wouldn't bother you? Like, it wouldn't be gross to you, seeing as we're friends?"

Eddie clapped a hand over his chest, wincing. "I see how it is. She thinks being with me is gross."

"N-No! I just don't want it to be awkward."

He looked up at your through his lashes, smiling. "I think we're well past awkward." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And if it makes you feel any better, you'd be helping me out with a, uh, similar problem."

Your gaze drifted down to the towel. It hadn't struck you that it sat awkwardly on his hips, betraying the shape just beneath. You chewed your lip.

"You're making me feel like a piece of meat, Y/N."

Your eyes shot back up to meet his, your cheeks heating.

"Are we doing this, Munson?"

Eddie pulled one hand away from his waist, opening the towel a little. The other side still covered him, but he waggled his eyebrows nonetheless.

"Should I do a strip tease? Will that do it for you?"

You giggled and sat up on your knees, keeping the sheets wrapped around you. He made you feel so... relaxed. They never laughed in the pornos, or in smutty books. But it felt right, to tease and snicker and scoff.

You shot him a wink. "Oh, are we doing it that way?"

You let the sheets drop.

--

Fuck. Fuck.

Eddie had kept the mood semi-serious to make you feel comfortable. To give you an out. And if you asked him to stop -- if you hesitated for one second -- he would withdraw. But it was certainly difficult to go back from this.

You were... God, you were perfect. Every freckle and mark, curve and bump, slope and shadow. It was like you were made to be held, to be kissed, praised -- no, worshiped. No matter what you looked like, he knew he'd be on his knees for you. But this was so much more than he'd expected.

Eddie stalked forward, to the edge of the bed, and your eyes tracked him all the way. Steady, studying -- anxiety swimming deep in your gaze. She thinks I'm not sure. He let his fingers drift up your neck until he held your cheek, thumb running over your bottom lip. You shut your eyes, your shaky sigh warming his chest -- inches away from each other.

"If you're not sure, we can stop. Okay?"

You nodded. He pressed him thumb to your chin and pulled your mouth open.

"Use your words."

"Okay," you repeated.

He let his towel drop, and you opened your eyes at the sound. He could see your throat bob.

"You're already..."

Eddie let his fingers drift under your chin, pulling your gaze up.

"I may have heard a little more in the shower than I let on."

"You were eavesdropping?" you gasped, mock salaciousness.

"Are you mad?"

His hand grazed your throat, down to the slope of your shoulder, tracing the bones, the curves. You shook your head, and he pushed you. It only took a little pressure for you to fall back, and he climbed over you.

"You sounded so sweet," he whispered against your throat, lips brushing the soft skin there. "I couldn't resist touching myself. It can be difficult, knowing someone so beautiful is laying in my bed, fucking herself with her vibrator."

He pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, suckling, nipping, drawing out soft mewls from your lips. Your hands drew up his back, tangled in his hair. Encouraging him as he dipped his head low, peppering kisses all over your chest, between your tits, beneath them. His nose brushed a nipple, and it stiffened in a second. Already, you were wet with shower water. Eddie lapped up the droplets, tongue snaking out to flick over your peaked nipple. You let out a sharp gasp, fingers twisting in his hair.

One hand ghosted up your leg, tracing over your knee, your thigh, your hip. His fingers brushed your pubic bone. He released your nipple with a wet pop, looked up at you.

"Yes?" he asked.

--

You took his hand and guided it to your slick folds, still tingling from the vibrator. The second he touched your clit, you let out a soft sigh -- not shocked but satisfied. Finally, your body sighed. Finally, he was touching you. You wanted to throw your head back and shut your eyes as his mouth sealed over your other nipple, tongue swirling and flicking over it. But you didn't want to miss a second, especially when he shot a coy glance your way.

He circled your clit, testing each side until he found the one that made you moan the loudest, made your hips buck up to meet his touch. Eddie dipped his fingers between your folds, spreading your slick all over your hot, puffy sex. His touch electrified you. Excited currents ran just under your skin, and your heart pounded so hard you were certain he could feel it.

He was hot. Maybe it was from the shower, but his touch seared you. The windows of the trailer were fogged up. He read each sound you made and seemed to chase them, seeking out every moan. You could have gotten lost in him -- in his heat, his scent, his skilled touch. When he slipped two fingers between your folds, you spread your legs wider -- eager, begging.

"Eddie," you breathed, searching for the words but coming up blank. "You... you're amazing, you're... Are you rutting against the bed?"

"I can stop myself, sweetheart," he panted against your chest. "I'm knuckle-deep in your hot, soaked cunt, my face buried in your tits. I'm aching down here."

"Stop using the bed," you giggled. "Start using me."

Something changed in him then. Something shifted in his face, moved in his eyes -- something darker, baser, something that ran deeper than what he showed on the surface. Eddie lifted himself up, kneeling between your legs. He withdrew his fingers from your pussy and used your slick to coat himself. He pumped his cock over you, looking you up and down.

"Do you know how hard it is, sleeping in this bed after you've used it? Some nights I lay awake wondering if I'm going insane."

You grasped one of your tits, kneading the nipple between your fingers. "I think about you when I lay here. Pretending my vibrator is your cock."

"Like this?" He slid his cock against your folds. Hot, hard, velvety soft.

You tipped your head back, grinding up against him. "Yes, yes."

His thrusts were slow, hard, pressing against your aching cunt with enough pressure to make your squirm. Eddie grasped your hips and held you down, grip strong enough to leave marks. It stung, nails digging into your flesh. But the pain mingled with the heat between your legs, the delicious friction that built up and up as he picked up the pace.

"How often do you listen to me?" you gasped, grasping his forearm with one hand as the other played with your tit.

Eddie's chuckle was dark, low. "How often do you moan my name?"

You lifted your legs, locking them around his waist. "Fucking pervert."

His expression darkened. He moved one hand to your throat, squeezing the sides. "You're the one leaving wet spots on my sheets, sweetheart."

"I'll bet you lick them up."

Eddie shifted, leaning down to lick a firm stripe from your opening to your clit, his hot tongue laid flat against you. You let out a quivering moan, grasping at his hair. You shut your eyes, lifting your hips up, begging for more. All you got was a quick, rough slap on the clit, then he was lining his cock up to your opening.

"You're being so mean to me," he said, his voice hoarse with arousal. "I lent you my bed all those times. Was a perfect gentleman to you. Now here I am, helping you get off, holding back when all I want to do is stuff my cock into your pretty mouth, and what do you do? Call me a pervert." Both his hands returned to your hips, holding you down again. "Beg for it, Y/N. Beg for my cock."

He pushed inside -- just a little, just enough for it to sting. You tried to push further, but his hands were firm on you, pressing you into the plush bed. Your pussy clenched around nothing, begging for something -- for him.

--

"Please," you mewled. "Please, Eddie. I want you."

That was enough for him. God, you didn't even have to say anything. Just tasting you, feeling you rut against him, hearing your desperate moans -- all of it was enough to drive him crazy. But Eddie wanted more. He had held back for so long, now he wanted to savour it.

"You want me to what?"

You pouted, and one hand came up to grasp your jaw.

"Don't act like a brat. Use your words, or I'll get dressed and we'll go to the party right now. I'll let you squirm all night. Tell me what you want." He let go of your jaw and returned his hand to your hip.

"I want you to fuck me! I want your cock inside me."

It was a whine. A drawn-out, pathetic cry for him. Eddie smirked and, slowly, carefully, pulled you onto him. You were hot, wet, soft. So much more than he had imagined. You let out a moan, head tipped back, eyes shut, back arching. He bottomed out and paused, catching his breath. Your pussy throbbed around his length, and it was all he could do not to cum right then.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he panted, trying and failing to keep the arousal from his voice.

You nodded. "Mhm."

He moved his hips -- slowly at first, testing, teasing. Drinking in the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, your fingernails digging into his forearms. But as you relaxed, as the tension melted from you as stinging subsided and became pleasure, his thrusts grew faster, harder. He grunted with effort, from the warm, tight sensation pooling in his lower abdomen.

The snow outside muffled all sound. There was only your moans, his gasping breaths, and the slap of your flesh against his. He released your hip and traced two fingers across your lips. You opened them, sucking the digits for a moment before he pulled away and circled your clit.

"Eddie," you groaned.

"You like that, sweetheart? You like it when I play with your pussy?"

You nodded, but Eddie hardly saw. He was too distracted by the way your tits bounced with every thrust. There was so much more he wanted to do to you. He wanted another taste of your cunt; he wanted to fuck your throat; he wanted to let you ride him. But right now, he was addicted to the way you moaned, the way you looked beneath him. He couldn't focus on anything else.

This was already more than enough.

"Eddie," you moaned again as he licked his fingers and returned them to your clit. "'m gonna cum."

"Do it, sweetheart. Let go and cum for me."

--

Your orgasm was so strong that your eyes shut, your back arched, and your fingernails scraped down his arms. Heat exploded from your core. You forced your eyes open, watching Eddie as he thrust wildly into your cunt, letting you ride out every dizzying wave.

"'m so close, Y/N. S-so clo-- f-fuck."

You felt his cock twitch inside of you. Eddie stopped rubbing your clit, which was already overstimulated from his attention, and gripped the sheets above your head to steady himself. Warmth filled you as he came, letting out a string of barely-intelligible cusses.

Eddie leaned forward, his forehead on the bed beside your head, panting hard. His wet hair fell over your shoulder. You lifted it, tucking it behind his ear. He was red there, and all over his chest, up his neck. He turned his head to you, smiling.

"Holy shit," he gasped.

You giggled. "My thoughts exactly."

His hands came to cup your face, and as he slid out of you, you both sat up. He held you, one arm winding around your waist. You flung your arms over his shoulders.

"You... You were okay with that?" he asked.

You scoffed. "No. I cried out in pleasure because I hated every second."

He pinched your cheek. "So. You wouldn't mind doing that again?"

You couldn't hold back your smile. "Yes! I, I mean, no, I wouldn't mind. I'd... I'd like that, I --"

Eddie's nose slid against yours, his lips inches away from you. How was it that moments earlier, he was inside of you, yet this felt more intimate? You tipped your chin up, letting your lips brush. He closed the distance, mouths meeting in a slow, deep kiss.

"Should we start now?"

He leaned back, studying your face with an incredulous expression. "I thought we were going to Harrington's party."

"I mean..." You lifted one shoulder. "If you insist."

Eddie shook his head. "Oh, no. I just got you, sweetheart; no way I'm giving you up that easy."

He pulled you down, on top of him, and both of you let out a laugh quickly cut off by another kiss. You could have stayed there all night in his bed. Your bed, really. You planned on being in it often enough, after all.

[hard-candy-writing]

'can i borrow your bed?'

perv!eddie x reader

summary: you just got your first vibrator and are eager to try it out, but your house has thin walls and no privacy. luckily, your best friend eddie has graciously offered his room to you.

warnings: masturbation (f and m), use of a dildo (obviously), mutual pining, a lil bit of voyeurism.

a/n: here you go, lovelies. especially @prettyboyeddiemunson who encourages my dirty thoughts and @izzyxplr (if anyone else wants to be tagged in future stuff just let me know) <3

You knocked on the door. It was the first time in years that you'd done that. Wayne insisted on you just walking in and making yourself at home, and as for Eddie, he was either listening to or making music way too loud to hear your tapping. One time, you had to go to his open window and throw an empty soda can at him to get his attention.

You prayed he'd have just as hard a time hearing you today.

As you waited for Eddie to answer the door, you wondered if you had time to go back to your car and drive off. It was too much to ask. He'd just said yes to be nice, but really he was uncomfortable. It had come up after you'd both been smoking... maybe a little more than you should have. You were pent up, irritated.

"You know, I haven't had sex in over a year."

He'd burst out laughing.

"Poor you, Y/N. Me neither."

"I'm so frustrated I actually bought a vibrator. Not that I've had the chance to use it."

Eddie had perked up at that. You parents were always home, either one or the other. And that thing was loud. It was borderline pornographic; even the buzz of it turned you on. The only reason you'd told Eddie about your little problem was the slim chance that he might take pity on you. God, so desperate you'd take a pity fuck from your best friend? Then again, you'd accept any reason he had for him to touch you.

One thing had led to another, like most things did with the two of you, and the night had ended in Eddie offering you the privacy of his own room. And you'd accepted.

Eddie opened the door, looking as if he had been in the middle of something. A thin sheen of sweat covered him. He had his dark curls pulled back into a messy bun, strands clinging to his throat. He was wearing a beaten white tee, the sleeves ripped off, and a pair of stonewashed jeans torn at the knees. He flashed you a smile.

"You're early. Are you that eager?"

It might have been just a joke -- everything was a joke with him -- but you still felt your cheeks heat up at the accusation. It was all you could think about that morning, your new vibrator weighing heavy in your bag. You had a little knot in your belly, which flipped and clenched with anticipation. Every bump in the road to his trailer sent shocks through you and made you clench your thighs.

"I, uh..." You cleared your throat.

Eddie stepped aside, letting you in. "Sorry," he laughed, shutting the door behind you. "Didn't mean to make things awkward. You're still alright with this, yeah?"

You nodded. "Only if you are."

He shoved one hand in his pocket while the other gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. "Well, I'm planning a long walk around the neighbourhood. See whose Christmas decorations are still up and all that. And I'll be in good company." He withdrew a new pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "So, take as long as you need."

"I'll keep the door locked until I'm done. Deal?"

He seemed so nonchalant. So cool about something that was very much not cool. You gripped the strap of your bag with both hands as he nodded and tugged his sneakers on.

"Deal," he said. "And relax, will you?"

"Huh?"

Eddie grinned and opened the new pack. "You're shaking like a leaf, Y/N. If you wanna have a good time, you have to relax. Nobody's walking in on you, okay?"

You took a deep breath. He was right. "Okay."

He put a cigarette between his lips and stepped outside. You heard the door lock behind, and it shook in its frame when he tested it to make sure it was shut firm. You wasted no time, stepping out of your shoes and heading to his bedroom.

It seemed you had interrupted something. You'd never seen Eddie's room so clean. His records were in their sleeves and placed in boxes, his cassettes stacked, and the bed -- God, it was made. You half expected to throw the comforter back to find rose petals and a bottle of champagne. Tingles rushed through you. He really did care about you having a good time.

You undressed, first quickly, stumbling out of your skirt. Then you took a breath. Relax. You undid your shirt, spending time on each button, feeling your skin as you exposed inch after inch. You shivered under your own touch. Over a month of trying to find the privacy. Finally, it was time.

You sat down on the edge of his bed and slipped one hand into your bag. It wasn't large or gaudy. You wanted something compact, subtle. Something gentle for your first toy. And this was perfect. You turned it on and off, testing the three intensity settings, your thighs clenching at the sound of it. You flopped down onto your back. Head against his pillows. You forced yourself to put the toy down beside you, feeling yourself first. Hands skating up your sides, down your thighs, over your tits, scratching your nails over your bra cups.

Hopefully, it's a long walk.

--

Shit. Shit shit shit.

It had been five minutes and one cigarette before Eddie came sprinting back to the trailer. Sure, he knew that Y/N was in there and needed privacy. But what if Wayne came back early? He had a key and every right to be there. Eddie cringed at the thought of his uncle walking in and hearing... that. Y/N would never forgive him.

So he came running back, deciding to guard the trailer until you unlocked the door. He parked himself on the front step, elbows on his knees, and waited.

Eddie tried to think about his plans for that night. The guys were getting together for a practice sesh at five, and he still needed to finish hammering out the last details for Hellfire's next session. They'd leveled up, and he wanted something to test their mettle.

But the more he tried not to think about you in there, the more his mind turned to it.

How could he say no to you? It was a terrible problem to have -- one he never had to worry about, given how often Wayne was gone. More than that, you were his best friend. And even more than that...

Eddie rubbed his chin. The thought of you laying in his bed, writhing, moaning, pumping that vibrator in and out of your hot, soaked --

He shut his eyes. No. He wouldn't think about that. It wasn't right, in fact it was selfish, using the opportunity to think of you that way. Not that thinking of you that way was anything new to him. But just the thought had desire stirring deep in his belly, his face heating up. He stood up, stretching. Maybe he could walk around the trailer, keep his mind off of it.

But as he rounded the far side, where his trailer faced the woods that stood between the park and the main road, he heard it. That singular buzzing that made his heart stutter and his cock twitch. Unmistakable. He found himself beside the window to his bedroom, the thin drapes drawn but the window cracked open to let out the stifling heat.

Eddie stopped. It was wrong, so, so wrong. But that only made it more fun. He had his back to the trailer, and turned his head just a fraction of an inch. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see your silhouette, stretched languid on the bed.

And you were... Oh, God.

--

You let the tip brush your nipple, which stiffened to a hard peak at the vibrating touch. You let out a gasp, your free hand playing with your other tit as you circled your nipple with the vibrator. It was on the lowest setting, and already it sent thrills through you. It wasn't the same, but you imagined someone's tongue teasing your stiff peak. Licking, flicking, twisting, biting.

His ringed fingers on your sides, keeping you still.

Fuck. You didn't want to think about Eddie. But you were surrounded by him. His clothes, his music, is scent. You turned your head, your nose pressing into his pillow, inhaling the smell of his shampoo. God, it was wrong. But it felt so good.

You couldn't hold back any longer. One hand grazed down your body until you reached your clit, two fingers spreading your folds. You were already so wet, but you needed more. You brought the vibrator to your lips and dipped it into your mouth, wetting it, as far as your throat would allow. You moaned around it, pretending it was him.

And the second you withdrew it, you touched it to your clit and gasped.

Electric shocks shot through you, a wave of pleasure rising and crashing over you. You let out a groan that turned into a sigh. You spread your legs wider, lifting your clitoral hood and grazing it again, this time just on the side. You couldn't control the moan that fell from your lips. You cunt clenched around nothing, begging for something to squeeze.

Soon, you promised yourself, forcing your ass back down onto the bed -- when had you lifted it? You circled your clit, one way and then the other, pausing where it felt the best. Knots tightened and undid in your belly, your heart racing. It felt as good as an orgasm, and you weren't even close to finishing.

Everything fell away from your consciousness. All you could focus on was that feeling, that buzzing, clenching, gushing, convulsing between your legs.

--

Eddie had his back against the trailer, palming himself through his jeans. He'd tried to resist, to keep that one boundary uncrossed. But the second you shoved that toy in your mouth and moaned around it, he went from semi- to rock-hard in less than three seconds and had to relieve some of the pressure.

He bit down on his lip, forcing back a groan as he rolled his hips, grinding into his hand. You had your back arched, your chest heaving, perfect tits catching the slat of sunlight that peeked in.

"Oh my God," you exhaled, the pitch of your moans growing higher, higher. "Oh my God, ohmygod..."

Eddie tipped his head back, eyes shut now. He didn't have to watch anymore -- God help him if he was caught. All he needed were the sounds you were making. Your quick, gasping breaths. Your groans, your cusses, your panting. The buzz of the vibrator as it went up one setting.

"Fu-fuck!" you stammered. "God, yes."

Eddie wanted to burst in. To bust open the door and climb on top of you, to show you that if you thought that was good, his mouth could do even better. He licked his lips and squeezed his erection through his pants, aching for more friction.

"More," you gasped, begging yourself to push further. Eddie turned his head and opened his eyes.

--

You slid the vibrator between your folds, and with a little stinging that quickly turned from pain to pleasure, pushed it inch by delicious inch inside of you. You couldn't decide whether to spread your legs further or squeeze them together. Your knees buckled, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

Your toes curled, one hand clenching the sheets as you dipped the vibrator in and out, slowly, savouring the filthy, wet sounds.

You didn't mean to picture him. But being stretched like that, laying back in his bed, knowing that he knew just what you were doing at that moment, you couldn't help but imagine him leaning over you, grunting with every slow, hard thrust --

"Eddie," you whispered, turning back to muffle your cries in a pillow as white-hot pleasure exploded in your belly and rippled out from you, making your whole body go fuzzy. You slammed the button, forcing the vibrator to its highest setting as you rode out wave after wave as it crashed over you.

All at once, it was too much. Your whole body twitched, overstimulated. You turned the vibrator off and, slowly, pulled out. Wetness gushed between your legs and -- unbeknownst to you -- pooled on the bed.

--

Lick it. God, please lick it. Half of him was ashamed of the thought, but the other half chanted it like a prayer. Eddie covered his mouth, biting a knuckle as you lifted the vibrator to your lips once again, swallowing it.

"Fuck," he breathed.

You laid there for a few moments, and he could hear you catching your breath. He slipped a hand into his pants, fighting back a moan at the contact and readjusting himself so that he didn't have an obvious boner when you answered the door.

It felt like hours before you unlocked the door, and he was halfway through another cigarette, sitting on the step, when you did. He glanced over his shoulder. Cool, be cool.

"Was it everything they say it is?"

You nodded, and did that cute thing where you tucked your chin down to hide your smile.

"Thanks again," you said, but he barely heard you. You said your goodbyes, and your legs wobbled as you walked back to your car.

If it were up to him, you wouldn't be able to walk at all.

The second you drove off, he stamped out his cigarette and went inside. It was cooler in the trailer, but his skin was burning hot. His shirt was off before he even got to the bedroom. He went over to his records, ready to put one on to mute the sounds he'd make just in case Wayne came home.

Then he stopped. Eddie's gaze slid to his bed, a record in his hands. There was a wet spot on his bed.

Fuck. This was bad. Disgusting.

His pants and boxers pooled at his feet, one knee on the bed, one hand balancing him while he stroked his cock. His tip was bright red, swollen, and soaked. The bed was still warm in places, especially the wet spot. He ground into it, one hand gathering the sheets to rut into them.

Eddie shut his eyes, imagining you cumming around his cock. Soaking it. He let out a high-pitched moan, gnawing at his lower lip at the thought of you licking your juices off of his cock.

He had both knees on the bed now, holding the sheets around his erection, moving his hips as if he were slamming into you. He replayed your moans in his head, every oh God and more. Just minutes earlier, you were here, soaking his sheets.

That thought undid him. Eddie choked on his next moan, hips stuttering as thick ropes of cum shot out, ruining his sheets even more. He let the sheets fall, looking at the mess he'd made but not seeing it. All Eddie could see was you, laying underneath him, mouth open and tongue out.

Let me lick it. God, please, let me lick it.

[russianblush]

rentals & records ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x fem!reader.

summary: eddie can't hide the fact that he's sort of obsessed with you, but you can't deny that you might be secretly obsessed with him too.

cw: 18+ content (minors, shoo!), fem!reader, oral sex (f&m receiving), soft sex, virgin!eddie

word count: 11.4k. someone shut me up pls.

request are always open!

“I really need to know who rents this thing out so much that the entire cover is starting to fall apart.” Steve’s holding up a horrible worn out version of a Cheech & Chong movie you can’t decipher the title of. You squint, hard. It was pretty faded, pun absolutely intended. Reefer Rick was still in prison, so that counted him out immediately—there could be only one other culprit.

The familiar clang of the entrance bell startled you half to death, sending you whipping around to look behind you.

“Harrington! How’s it been?” Eddie Munson, of course.

“Eddie.” Steve nods in greeting, sounding exhausted already. You kick him in the shin, eyes sending him a look of warning when he yelps in pain. “What brings you in?”

You three already knew the answer to that question. It was you. Eddie had used every reason under the sun to find a way to come visit you while you were working. It was kind of endearing, you couldn’t lie. But, Eddie was a friend. He had always been just a friend.

“Just returning a rental.” Eddie replies, waving the VHS above his head.

“I’ve got it.” You assure Steve, who couldn’t be bothered to leave the mess of already disorganized rentals he had to sort through. You couldn’t tell if it was the girl trouble—or lack thereof, that Steve was having that was causing him to be in such a slump, or the general lack of disinterest in his job.

“Eddie.” Your voice is dripping with sweetness, fingertips dragging along the counter as you scoot in behind the front desk. “Just returning?”

“Might take a quick look around, if you don’t mind.” He tells you, hands shoved into his front pockets. “Unless you’ve got some suggestions, princess?”

You let out a soft ‘hmph’, shaking your head at the nickname he had come up with. It started sophomore year of high school, a shitty jab at how prissy you acted—a lot of that was part of hanging around with the wrong crowd. But, now you had Steve—you balanced each other out pretty well. The word felt different coming from his mouth now, a lot less bite behind it. You had always been friends, but never close enough that you spent time with him outside of school or sat with him at lunch, to busy with the swarm of girls that flocked around each other, you being suck right into the center of it all. That didn't stop the dizzying feeling you felt every time he set his eyes on you.

“I’m fresh out.” You assure him with a playful smirk, you hesitantly point in Steve’s direction. “But, we just got one of your favorites back in, if you wanna rent it out.”

“My favorite?” He teases, curling a stray strand of hand around his finger. It was almost criminal how beautiful his hair was, never a piece out of place, a true work of art. “You keepin’ tabs on me?”

“It’s in the system, Eddie.” It was his most frequented rental and always came back reeking of weed—something you didn’t even know to be possible. “You’ve rented it out sixteen times.”

“Oh.” He deflated slightly—he seemed a little ashamed, maybe? You didn’t find it weird, not really—there’s no way you could admit how many times you’ve watched The Breakfast Club, something you would carry with you to the grave.

“Steve!” You shout, grabbing his attention. Your head nods in the direction of Eddie—and like Steve was a mind reader, tosses the rental in your direction. You catch it with ease, tossing it on the counter. A stoner’s favorite, that was for sure.

“You rent these out to high school students?” Eddie asks from an obscure corner of the store—“Robocock. Huh, that’s fucking hilarious.”

Steve’s at a loss for words, glancing at you from his hiding spot, surfing through his ever growing pile. You stifle that laugh that comes out at the sight of his horrified face. You didn’t understand why Steve looked so scandalized when you knew he snuck out the adult film rentals on a regular basis. He just wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was.

“You’re twenty, Eddie.” You remind him, “Not seventeen.”

He shrugs, tossing it back on the shelf. “Got any new releases?”

You think for a moment, “No, not for the past few weeks. I guess you’ll just have to suffer through a few more rewatches of those ridiculous little stoner movies you like.”

“Hey, not ridiculous.” His ringed finger is pointing in your direction, he’s slowly making his way back toward the cash register, glancing aimlessly down the aisle, eyes not really landing on anything in particular—except for you. “They’re a cinematic masterpiece.”

Entirely too unconvinced, you hold your hand out, waiting for him to slide over his ID. “You just gotta give ‘em a try, I swear.” He adds, setting the card in your hand gently.

He’s got the biggest grin on his face, which wasn’t out of the norm for him, but his eyes lingered on your for a little too long and that last thing you wanted to think was that it was meant entirely for you. Because no, absolutely not. You could not handle another boy wrecking your life, right now.

“No, Robocock?” You tease, the word sounds even more lewd than you had intended.

While you had never partaken in the content yourself, you were aware. You just couldn’t handle the cheesy lines and horrible faked situations that ended with someone getting pounded over an object that looked way too uncomfortable to be spread out over—they were a hard, hard no.

You clear your throat awkwardly, realizing how caught off guard Eddie looked—like you had insulted his all time favorite metal band and shit on his choice of music all in one go—you could never shit on Eddie’s music choice, not when you indulged in the same songs on a daily basis. But really, he was at a loss of words.

“Maybe next time.” He says slowly, trying to recover from whatever the fuck just happened.

“Sweet.” You drag out, attempting to input the rental information into the decrepit contraption in front of you, waiting for what felt like hours for it to finally rise from the dead. “And you’re good, here—“

“Are you busy this weekend?” Eddie asks suddenly, jarring you out of reality for a moment. His voice quieter, like he was hoping Steve wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Yeah, actually.” You tell him. It wasn’t an excuse, you were working a double shift to cover Steve’s ass because you were an amazing friend who cared about their well-being and ability to potentially help your friend get laid. “I have to work all weekend.”

“Oh—sounds like torture.” He jokes, tapping the VHS idly against the counter. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and you hate how disappointed that makes you feel. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again this weekend then, princess.”

“Can’t wait.” You reply teasingly, causing Eddie to chuckle quietly in response. “God knows I’ll be boring myself to death all weekend.”

“I’ll be your knight in shining armor, no worries.” He adds, adjusting the front of his jacket, displaying the infamous Hellfire Club tee he dawned underneath.

“I’ll hold you to that.” You wiggle a finger at him, watching intently as he made a show of swinging a fake sword, walking backwards toward the door, not realizing that he was about to run smack into another customer.

“Hey, fuckin’ watch it, kid.” A much older man shouts, shoving past Eddie. You can’t help but laugh.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Your shift at Family Video on Saturday is entirely too uneventful, aside from the two underage kids who tried to sneak in and steal some of the content from the adult section, which then promptly ended in them being embarrassed by half of the store during one of the busier hours of the day. You shooed them away quickly and suffered through the rest of that god forsaken shift—boy, was that a story for Steve.

Thankfully, Sunday comes quickly and you’re shuffling out of your house at the speed of light, trying to make it before opening time to set up the store in peace.

“Don’t forget, sweetheart—I need you to cover the store for a few hours while I’m gone tonight.” Your dad spoke, stopping you at the front door. You nod your head fervently, assuring him that he had nothing to worry about.

“Gotcha, I’ll make sure to lock up everything, don’t worry.”

He was definitely going to remind you about ten more times.

He owned a small record store on the corner of downtown, right across from the frequently visited supermarket that almost the entire town went to. It was great for business, amazing in fact, always bringing back the old customers, but happily welcoming in the new ones. It was his prized possession and probably the only reason you leaned so heavily into loving music.

You spend an hour setting up shop at Family Video—wiping down counters, checking on any new stock, and finally settling down into a spot to sort through rentals that either needed to be thrown out or re-shelved. It was monotonous, but enough to keep you busy—busy enough that the store had already been open for at least a half hour, you not even bothering to flip on the neon sign that hung from the front window of the store.

“This might help.” The familiar voice says,, nearly scaring the life out of you. You grasp your chest in horror, falling ass first onto the floor. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“Jesus, Eddie—the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, standing at full height, the top of your head barely reaching his nose. “You cannot sneak up on people like that.”

“I figured you heard me come in—plus, the doors were unlocked.” Fair point. Still, you were annoyed. “Really, you okay?”

“Yeah.” You huff, smoothing the dust off of your pants and adjusting the horrible, itchy work vest you wore. “Just, please—never do that again.”

“Cross my heart.” Eddie replies endearingly, hand pressed against his chest. He leans forward, noticing the small button on your vest that read ‘Ask me about Science Fiction!’, he flicks it amusingly.

“So, any good suggestions for me today?” He asks, “maybe something science fiction-y?” Eddie’s fishing for something, you’re just not sure what. You steal the previous rental from his hands, placing it on the counter.

“I would suggest Star Wars, but I think that’s an obvious one—you’ve probably already seen it.” You travel down the row, Eddie not very far behind.

“I haven’t.”

Your mouth practically drops to the floor in shock—of course Eddie hadn’t seen it, this man knew of three things—weed, heavy rock music, and more weed.

“What? Is that bad?” His eyebrow is quirked up inquisitively, bracing both hands against the top of surrounding rows.

“It’s a fucking crime, Eddie.” You slap the rental into his chest, grabbing his hand to force it into his hold and out of yours.

He’s laughing, turning on his heels to follow you obediently. Truly, he just hadn’t found the time to actually sit down and enjoy it, it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“So, Star Wars—check.” He lists off, “Anything else?”

“You should probably start off slow.” You suggest coyly, patting his arm. “No need to over indulge, then you won’t be able to put them down.”

That was his problem exactly. He’d overindulged into you and now—he just couldn’t quit, he had to know everything. Likes, dislikes, why you always came to school with such a sour puss look on your face, or why you always ate lunch in your car instead of inside the cafeteria—why you always made sure to bump into him in the hallway just to find a reason to speak to him in front of his friends (okay, maybe you definitely went out of your way to talk to him as often as you could.) —not that he cared, but he wasn’t losing his mind when he noticed that his interest wasn’t completely one-sided.

And yeah, maybe Eddie was just what you needed, but boys—boys were off limits. School, work, home. That’s how your life worked and it worked well. Routine was the only thing that kept you on such a straight line. Aside from that freshman hook up with Jason, then Jay from Band class, and that one—very quick—time with Aaron from Physics, there was also the other Erin—in contrast, she’d been an absolute dream to experience, both as a friend and someone who you felt safe enough sharing some of your firsts with. So maybe you weren’t as focused as you should’ve been—but you were trying, that counted, right?

“Princess,” Eddie’s voice brings you back to the surface, his fingers snapping in your face to break you from the trance you had fallen in, “time to come back to the land of the living.”

“Sorry,” You smile sheepishly, “What were you saying?”

He has the nerve to look smug, the faintest trace of a smirk on his face. “I didn’t say anything. You just went blank and—“ He waves his hands wildly in your direction, as if that made any sense.

You try to calm your thoughts, your mind, focusing yourself with the task at hand—get Eddie Munson out of here as soon as possible.

“Got that spare copy of Robo—“ You pull the copy of the horrible named porno from under the desk where you had left. That section was a nightmare to sort through. “Oh, well there was supposed to be a joke there—but now I forgot.” He seemed caught off guard by the idea that you already knew exactly what he was gearing to say. “You hidin’ it for yourself or something?”

“God no.” You scoff, typing idly. “I never step foot in that area of the store—that’s all Harrington’s domain.”

Eddie extends his hand out, making a soft grabbing motion toward the object in your hand. You offer it up cautiously, watching as he saunters over to the section and plopped it right back into the spot it belonged.

Well, that was one way to make the job easier. Actually—

“Hey, are you busy right now?” It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s still worth it.

“Depends on why you’re asking.” Eddie says slowly, palms resting against the counter upon his return. He’s eyeing you carefully, you try not to look away.

“I could use the help sorting,” You start, pointing at the pile you hadn’t even made a dent in yet, “and I’ve gotta cover a shift at the record store in a few hours, so I’d really like to get this shit done, preferably today.”

“Record store? The one over by Bradley’s Big Buy?” Eddie perked up out of nowhere. “I go there all the time.”

“Yeah.” You reply is slow, methodical. “My dad owns it.”

“No fuckin’ way.” If Eddie was trying to hide the fact that you may have just become his favorite person ever, he was doing a terrible job. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You know what—you help me get through all of this before my shift ends and I’ll let you sift through the storage in the back of the record shop where we keep the real gems, let you take a few as a reward for your hard work. Deal?” You hold out your hand, waiting for the deal to be set in stone.

“Oh, hell yeah.” Eddie says, shaking your hand firmly.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The keys jingle as you fiddle with the lock on the door. Eddie’s feet doing a soft pitter-patter behind you. He was antsy as hell, more so than you had ever seen him. It was driving you insane—you turn abruptly to look at him.

“Eddie, seriously—I’m going to have to strap you to a chair if you don’t stop.” He didn’t think you were serious, but you were absolutely willing to do whatever was needed.

“Sorry.” He says softly, the shuffling coming to a stop a few moments after. You offer him a warm smile, finally managing to force the lock to turn, opening the back entrance to the shop.

The smell was something you could never forget. It was similar to the smell of old books, mixed with the sweet smell of cinnamon. The small area that encased the back of the store was for employees—a lounge area fit for a few people with a small kitchenette attached. You glance back at Eddie, who hadn’t moved from the spot he was in. You grab for his wrist, gently yanking him inside and shutting the door behind you.

“When I said stop I didn’t mean freeze.” You joke playfully, continuing to hold onto the sleeve of his jacket as you tug him through the rest of the way, turning another corner to reach the storage room. “A few rules—none of the boxes off the top shelf, mostly because I don’t want you hurting yourself and I have no idea how sturdy those things are and two, you don’t speak a word of this to anyone—not a single soul, Eddie Munson.”

“Heard, boss.” He nods eagerly.

“Voila.” Throwing your hand out to the side fancifully, allowing him a grand entrance into the only sacred part of this building.

If anyone found out about this, you were surely dead.

“There’s a few first editions in here, some misprints, a lot of represses and remasters—it’s a lot so just…have at it.” Eddie’s holding his hands close to his body, afraid that if he touches anything it was going to disintegrate into a pile of dust, which was very well possible.

“Personally, I’d go with a copy of Ozzy or Iron Maiden, these are almost impossible to get your hands on.” You pull out the two covers simultaneously, parading them out for show. His smile is genuine, but it doesn’t seem to be what he’s looking for.

He scans around for a minute before finally stopping on a box a few feet away. “Aha!” Eddie exclaims, holding the piece up in front of him. “Found you.”

Metallica. You should’ve known. It was a damn good album, even you could attest to that. “Good choice.” You nudge him gently, sifting through the box in front of him. If he wants to say something, he doesn’t. Eddie bites his tongue, for once. It was way too much to unpack in one evening—the idea of some popular priss of the school like you even recognizing how absolutely metal this album was.

“Actually, I think I’ll stick with this.” Eddie tells you, following your lead as you exited the storage room. He didn’t want to be greedy or take advantage of the situation and you were fine with that, it was nice, actually. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever managed to have a conversation with a boy that didn’t end with him asking to shove a hand up your shirt, or worse.

Though, Eddie’s own bubble of bliss popped at the sound of a voice carrying through to the back of the store, eyes widening in fear. You panic, shoving him into a dark corner, down one of the rows, yanking him down to squat out of sight.

“I thought you said we didn’t have to worry about your dad showing up?!” Eddie says in a hushed whisper, eyes showing how desperate he was to escape this situation.

You silence him with the palm of your hand, pulling him lower, almost on top of you, to avoid being seen. You turn to peek from under the legs that held up the bins of records, watching as your father wandered around until he found what he was looking for—his wallet, of all fucking things. Eddie says something into your hand, but it’s muffled. You swat him gently, but it’s enough to warrant a warning—and the look you give him... he obeys almost immediately.

The moment you two are finally alone again, you both collapse with a loud sigh on the floor—hearts pounding out of your chest.

“Am I dead?” Eddie asks, staring up at the ceiling. You lean over him, popping into his line of sight.

“If you’re dead, I guess I’ll have to take back that copy of—“ You slowly reach for the record he still had a death grip on.

“No, no. Anything but that.” He begs, holding it closer to his chest. You chuckle softly, pushing yourself up. Eddie follows suit slowly, still reeling from the aftermath of what had just happened.

“Wanna listen for a bit?” You suggest, trying to ease some of his nerves. “I’ve got a few minutes until I have to open shop and that record player up front is top of the fuckin’ line. It sounds amazing.”

“You wanna listen? To Metallica?” He asks, confirming what he had suspected earlier, but it still didn’t help hide the bewilderment he was experiencing.

“The fact that I know you’re judging me so hard is kind of an asshole move, Munson.” You tease, grabbing the vinyl from his hand and setting it onto the record player.

It crackles to life, almost like magic, the song begins to play dimly in the background. You didn’t want to risk blowing the speakers out this early, so a manageable volume seemed appropriate.

“I’m not judging, I swear. I just—I had no idea, you know.” He’s leaning against the wall, hands crossed loosely over his chest. “Metal heads are a rare breed, they think we’re all fuckin’ nuts.”

“Aren’t we?” You joke, perched against the top of one of the leather chairs arranged near the entrance.

“There’s no way you’re real.” Eddie shakes his head with disbelief, running a twitchy hand through the back of his hair. It makes your heart twinge, the way he sounds so exasperated over the whole thing.

“I’m very real.” You remind him, poking gently at his arm. Eddie makes a small sound, a huff of laughter, though pained in the way it never actually leaves his mouth. “You okay, Eddie?”

“Yeah. Yeah, fine.”

Eddie was either impossible to read, or showing his emotions on his sleeve, there was no in-between. But right now, you were struggling to decipher why he seemed so off—switching from foot to foot nervously, fingers pulling at the loose thread on his jacket absently, chewing softly at his bottom lip like he’s trying desperately to stop himself from talking.

Screw always staying on the straight and narrow, you were taking the damn leap. You reach out for the hand that was tugging at a flimsy piece thread, fingers wrapping loosely around his own. His gaze is soft, looking up at you ever so slightly. “Eddie, you can talk to me.”

“Huh.” It’s a quiet sound, but you watch that way his chest bounces at the action. He’s eerily silent, like he can’t find the words to talk—but you could do enough of that for the both of you.

“Okay, don’t talk to me.” It comes out wrong, condescending. You scramble for a moment, “Not—I mean, I want you to feel like you can talk to me, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine too.” It’s a gentle reminder that no matter what, you respected his boundaries.

I’m kind of obsessed with you—is what he wants to say. But he can’t. He can’t even form the words. Any words. He takes a long, deep breath to calm himself.

“Please don’t hate me for this.”

“Why would I—“ Oh.

It felt…too good, too right, too entirely fuckin’ real. You can’t even find it in you to pull back, inhaling shakily against Eddie’s mouth, parting just enough to give you the space you needed to let your brain catch up with the rest of your body.

“Still don’t hate you.” You whisper into the air between you both, lips still close enough that they graze against his with every movement.

“Good.” He sighs, reaching forward to press one last sweet, lingering kiss against your lips. It was a lot less scandalous than you anticipated—not that you ever imagined kissing Eddie Munson...but still, definitely better than any expectation you might’ve had.

“Eddie, I really have to work.” You say with nothing but regret, feeling like cutting this short was a lousy attempt at escaping the situation, which was so far from what you wanted to do, but you couldn’t even process what was happening, not fully, at least. “We can talk later, if you want.”

“Uh, sure.” Eddie still sounds defeated, backing away slowly. He didn’t know what he was expecting, really. There was no way you would immediately fall head over heels, prepared with some sort of epic love confession. Still, he was disappointed with himself for not being able to express things differently.

You sigh, trying to find some way to reassure the poor boy standing before you. “We can shelf this,” You thought it was kinda cheesy, he did too. His smile is enough to make you feel a little bit better about cutting him off so quickly, “and you can call this number when you feel like talking to me.”

Reaching for the pen sitting on the clipboard on the table beside you, you scribble down a fury of numbers on a line of paper and shove it into his palm. You couldn’t do mixed signals, friends or not—if Eddie had something he wanted to say, you needed to hear it, he needed to hear himself say it. You needed it to be real.

“I’ll wait.”

As long as it would take.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A day passes, then two, three—nearly a week and Eddie still hasn’t bothered to call you, no matter how much time you spent sitting by the landline all evening, going so far as to study and eat dinner within arms reach of the phone, wondering why he still hadn’t called.

Maybe he had changed his mind, and that was fine, but it was still a kick in the ass—a reminder that you couldn’t let silly little crushes distract you like this. Eddie even avoided you in the hallway more often, taking a left toward his mandatory PE class, rather than taking the long way around to have a conversation with you. You felt ashamed, embarrassed that you had even allowed him to kiss you, it made you feel vulnerable.

After a week of silence and too many eerily quiet shifts at Family Video, enough is enough. And as luck would have it, you find him on a Friday night, digging through a discount bin at your dad’s record store—which, you should have known. But what was more astonishing, was how long he had managed to avoid you, here, of all places.

“We’re closing in ten, folks!” Your dad’s voice bellows through the place, warning the very few stragglers left that if they weren’t out within that time, it would be an issue. “Hiya, sweetheart.”

Eddie whips around at the speed of light, eyes landing on you immediately. You can’t help but look smug, arms crossed tightly over your chest. He tries to compose himself, turning back to the bin and continuing to browse through.

What an asshole, you think.

“Hey.” It’s simple, short, an easy way to start a conversation.

“Hi.” His voice doesn’t waver, but he sure as hell doesn’t look at you.

“If you’re not going to say anything, I will.” He’d done enough tiptoeing the past week, you just wanted an explanation.

He sighs, looking up at you slowly. “I know. I’m a dick for ignoring you.” He wasn’t wrong, you definitely felt it was a dick move that way he handled things. But, you hated holding grudges, especially against someone like Eddie, who you never hated to begin with.

“I get it, if you didn’t want to talk about what happened—it’s fine, but I still like talking to you, Eddie. You wouldn’t even look at me during lunch or any time I passed you in the halls—and don’t forget how late you are on returning that copy of ‘A New Hope’.” You point a feebly accusing finger in his direction, poking gently at his chest.

“I did.” He admits, “I gave it to Harrington and he handled it for me.”

Brows furrowed, your gaze ices over. “You went through me—to Steve?!” Now that, that stung. “You couldn’t even return a rental because I scared you off that much?”

“You didn’t scare me!”

You both freeze, not entirely sure where the outburst stunned from, luckily enough the store had emptied already. Still, that left a very clueless father of yours to watch the whole conversation unravel.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” He says, but it’s mostly directed at you. He slips the store keys into your hand. “Lock up and don’t stay out too late.”

You’ve never been more thankful for having such relaxed parents.

“You didn’t scare me.” Eddie repeats himself, more relaxed but still tense around the edges.

“Then why are you avoiding me?” You push. “Was kidding me really that horrible?”

“No—god, no. I have—I don’t really,” He takes a breath, hand steady out in front of himself between the space you two held, “I’ve never talk to people that I like—everyone thinks I’m this freak that worships that devil when all I really do is—“

“Play D&D with underclassmen and listen to metal rock at ungodly volumes from the inside of your van?” You ask, seemingly shutting him up. “Eddie, I know—the only people that believe that shit are the ones that can’t even look at themselves in the mirror and face who they are.”

You pull him toward the seating nook near the front of the store, forcing him down on the old leather couch shoved against the wall, allowing him the time he needs before he speaks again. You didn’t glance over his admission at liking you, but it was so painfully obvious that bringing it up again might do more harm than good, teasing him was the last thing you wanted to do. It was better to let him find the words he needed to express how he felt, that’s what you’d been waiting for—nearly a week now.

“I kissed you and it screwed everything up. I was so caught up in this idea of what I thought you were that when I realized who you actually were—I didn’t know how to respond, so I kissed you.”

“I do have interests, Eddie. I’m not some robot. They may not be what you expected, but the person I am at school, that’s not me. It’s what I want people to see—outside of school, I don’t have to force that image that I throw on. It’s just me.” You kept the two things on different sides of the universe, not that you weren’t ashamed of the fake act you put on around everyone, but it was the least complicated thing that somehow made sense in your mind.

You continue talking, Eddie forced to do nothing but listen. “I like Kate Bush and Journey—fuckin’ Metallica. My dad taught me how to play D&D when I was twelve for fucks sake. I love nerdy shit and maybe I’m ashamed to tell people that, but I’m sure as hell not afraid to like it.”

Eddie could’ve sworn his brain short-circuited at your admission, not that it was something groundbreaking, but it was something he had failed to notice on his own, how easily he overlooked you and believed in the show you put on for everyone else.

“I always thought you looked at me as some weird freak that annoyed you all the time.” He laughs quietly, fingers rubbing against the side of his rings absently.

“Annoyed me, yes.” You giggle softly, “Looked at you like you were some weird freak? Never. That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“Well, now I just feel like an asshole.” Eddie admits, smirking ever so slightly. “I should’ve noticed.”

“That was the whole point, Eddie.” You tell him, thumping his forehead gently. He gasps, rubbing the spot dramatically, as if you actually did any damage. “You think I didn’t know what you were doing these past few months? Visiting me at work, purposely saving the seat behind me in class just so you could bother me for answers—you could’ve just talked to me, Eddie. The idea that you think that I think I’m too good for you—it hurts.”

“Everything is fucked up now.” He says, it being the only conclusion he could come to. There was no rectifying what he had ruined, not in his mind.

“It’s not,” you remind him, slowly standing from your seat to pull from the stack of records by the record player, the beginnings of some random pop-ish song you’ve never heard of filling the room, “and since you want to be so self-deprecating, I’m going to make you sit through this god awful song until you realize that not only do I not hate you—I would let you kiss me again, and again, and ag—“

Eddie grips your head firmly, hand cradling the back of your head, fingers all wound up in your hair. He’s got his mouth on you, this time completely unashamed, all him and no impulse. It’s a little sloppy, the way his mouth meets yours. You weren’t ready for it, but to say that your mouth wasn’t a perfect fit against his own, that was a blatant lie. You two fit together well, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. He smells like weed and pine and nature, it’s your favorite smell in the world now.

“And again, and again.” Eddie mocks against your lips when you two finally come up for air. He couldn’t tell you where the sudden act of boldness came from, his body working purely on feeling and adrenaline.

“We gotta stop doing this.” You say, pulling back just enough to look at him.

“Kissing? Because I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to—“

“No, turning this record shop into our sacred make out spot.”

Eddie snorts at that, pulling back even more, head thrown back in a small fit of laughter. “I wouldn’t call that making out, would you?”

“You know what I mean.” You shove him lightly, nearly pushing him off you. But, he doesn’t let go.

Silence falls over you both, neither of you finding the words to break it. It didn’t feel wrong, crossing this line. Eddie wasn’t some forbidden fruit you couldn’t have a taste of—though he couldn’t say the same for you, but there were definitely some things that needed to be worked through.

“You’re not my boyfriend,” You tell him sternly and outright, “not yet. But, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to let you kiss me if you want to.”

“You’re not afraid of what people will say?” It’s the first genuine question that you can immediately answer, not an inkling of doubt behind it.

“I don’t give a shit what people think about who I associate myself with.” You reply honestly, eyes conveying an openness you only reserved for the people closest to you.

“Won’t it tank your reputation?” He laughs, fingers coming up to play with a stray piece of hair framing your face. “Can’t stay popular when you have a freak like me following you around.”

“Doubtful.” The students of Hawkins were so desperate for leadership, they would follow you without question. It was a gross thing to think about, but some people couldn’t be bothered to think for themselves and would rather have other people do it for them. “I think I scare a lot of people.”

Eddie nods, almost like he can relate. “You can be a little terrifying.”

“Good.” You say proudly, finally managing to separate yourself from Eddie, even if you really didn’t want to.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He kisses you that following Monday, square on the mouth, in front of not only his entire group of friends from Hellfire, but the entire senior class, including a few other underclassmen that lingered in the hallway for far too long. It’s puzzling at first, you’re confused, but you manage to fix your face quickly, smiling up at the boy standing in front of you.

“You really like drawing a crowd, Munson.” You tease, voice hushed so only he could hear.

“It’s a talent.” He remarks, gesturing wildly with his face, fingers pointed up to mimic devil horns, tongue stuck out for extra flair.

He was unapologetically himself and it was refreshing. You didn’t realize how hard everyone was staring until he’s left your side, and maybe you should feel ashamed, but the moment you attempt to lock eyes with any of them, they’re averting their eyes at the speed of light. Good—mind your damn business, you think.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He still pesters you at Family Video every other day, but not nearly as much as before. Fortunately for Steve, he was receiving most of the attention now—and even if he would never admit it, he was warming up to Eddie.

“He asked if I could sell him some weed.” Eddie tells you one day, unprovoked and out of the blue. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head in surprise.

“You know what, I don’t even wanna know.” You tell him, hands up in defense. “Just know, Steve has the tolerance of a mouse—beer, weed, whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Oh what, and little miss perfect’s never smoked a joint before?”

“Never.” You assure him. You weren’t one to judge, to each their own, but you never found any interest in actually trying it.

“And somehow you’ve got a crush on the one dude who smokes weed on a daily basis.” Eddie teases, finger jabbing your cheek softly. You can’t help but smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The first time Eddie invites you to his trailer is rather uneventful. You meet his uncle, briefly. He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but he’s still pleasantly surprised to see his nephew talking to someone, no matter who they were.

You two end up eating silently, talking about random and obscure things that only made sense between the four walls you both existed in.

“Favorite D&D class—go.” Eddie shoots a finger gun your way, grape shoved halfway into your mouth.

“Easy, rogue.” Stealth & trickery, that one was built for you. “Your turn.”

“Bard.” He says after a careful moment of thinking. “I don’t think that really needs much explaining.” Eddie says, flashing the beautiful guitar that hung on his wall, his most prized possession. “Plus, I’m super fuckin’ charming.”

“That you are.” You whisper softly, leaning forward to pull him in for a kiss. It’s cut entirely too short by Eddie pulling away, shoving another bit of food into his own mouth.

“Eat first, kiss later.” He orders.

And it’s not against your own human nature when you only receive so much as a few kisses before you’re leaving that night, wondering if maybe you were pushing too hard.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

So, you dial things back. It was fine if Eddie was making an attempt at slowing things down on purpose—the problem was, you weren’t used to it. You blame that partially on the fact that you’ve never gotten involved in anything more than a quick hookup. It was a foreign concept.

But Eddie does seem to take notice that you’re trying to create more distance at his expense and that just won’t do. So he’ll slide his hand up the back of your shirt, over the curve of your ass, a gentle tug on your hair when he’s kissing the life out of you from the driver’s side of his van, parked in the makeshift driveway outside his trailer home.

But, it constantly leaves you wanting more. You want him to touch you everywhere, constantly thinking about how his hands would feel around your thighs, running up the plane of your breasts, around your neck—and maybe you can blame it on the late surge of teenage hormones running through your body at eighteen.

And when the words finally left your mouth a few weeks later, laid out underneath Eddie on his unmade bed, you weren’t really sure what to expect.

“Are you scared to have sex with me?” You ask, voice sounding entirely too small in this big room. “Did I do something wrong?”

He lifts his head from where it’s resting on your chest, “What?”

“Are you waiting until marriage? Because if you are—that’s fine, but I really didn’t see that coming from you—not that I’m judging, it’s a valid choice.” You spit out in one breath, trying to compensate for how shitty you felt after asking him that.

“I’m a virgin.” He blurts out at once.

“O-oh. Okay.” You say slowly, caught off-guard by the admission. “I’m sorry, I just assumed that—“

“I’ve made out with people before and done a few other things but,” He tells you, “I’ve just never..”

“No, it’s fine.” You assure him, sitting up in his bed to look at him clearly, “I feel like a total asshole now.”

“Believe me, I want to have sex with you.” He looks so damn earnest, his palm resting against your knee, thumb rubbing against the skin gently. “I just don’t want to disappoint—gotta live up to the reputation, you know?”

“You’ve never even come close?” You ask curiously. It seemed like a harmless enough question to ask.

“Yeah—a few times. I always cut things short, though. I’ve had people offer me sex and blowies in exchange for weed, but that just feels wrong on so many levels.”

You nod slowly, thoughtfully. “Well, I’m not gonna push you or anything. It doesn’t have to be some big, monumental thing we have to tiptoe around. We can just…figure it out as we go.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The next couple months are easy, creeping up toward Christmas, impatiently awaiting a much needed break from school, work—even life. You wanted to lock yourself in your room and sleep for a week straight. Between your constant work shifts, covering Steve for dates because you’re way too nice of a friend, and still making sure to spend time with Eddie, you were worn out. Not that Eddie was a chore, but it felt like you couldn’t give him your full, undivided attention when your mind was constantly thinking of your schedule for the next day.

When you finally do manage to reward yourself with a few glorious days off, you spend them locked up in your room, just as you intended.

Tap. Tap. It was nearly eleven at night, who in the hell could possible be—

Eddie’s head pops into view, clearly struggling to keep himself upright. You scramble to the window, opening it up to pull him inside.

“Are you insane?” You ask, helping him step over the threshold without face planting on to the carpet. “My parents are asleep downstairs—if they find you up here this late, I’m dead. Dead, Eddie.”

“I’ll be quiet.” He smiles, fingers crossed over his heart in a way that told you he meant it.

“What did you want?” You ask, not really trying to sound like an asshole, but your exhaustion is making it seem that way.

“Wanted to see you.” He shrugs, plopping himself down on your bed. He’s holding his hands out too, hoping you would follow suit.

He nearly manhandles you over his lap, letting you rest against his thighs. “What’s gotten into you?” You ask, hands resting against his lower abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. “Is this a late night booty call?”

“A what—“ He looks genuinely confused, “nevermind.”

“Oh, so you just missed me?” You tease, hands crawling up the expanse of his chest, you reach forward to kiss teasingly against the bit of his chest that was exposed from his top, right above his tattoo. “That’s cute.”

“I had an idea.” Oh no, you think. It was either going to be something completely outlandish or—who the fuck were you kidding? This was Eddie. “Since you’ve been so stressed lately.”

“Yeah?” You reply eagerly, ready for any type of distraction to help take your mind off of everything.

“Let me go down on you.” And if there was a list of things that you never expected to hear Eddie Munson say, that was nearing the top.

“Eddie Munson.” You respond, sounding scandalized.

“Don’t tell me you’re turning down an orgasm.” He responds cockily, almost full of himself.

“I thought you said you-“

“I’m not that clueless, princess.” Well then. “Now, lay down.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Definitely not clueless. Not in the slightest of ways.

Eddie’s mouth his way down the inside of your thigh, biting and licking at your skin in a way that has you squirming desperately.

“No fingers.” He tells you.

You nod. At a loss of words for the first time in your life.

“Just my mouth.” He says around a particularly sensitive spot, sucking lightly. “That’s all I need.”

He sounds entirely too sure of himself.

“We can make a deal, if you’re that confident.” You challenge, head craning down to look at him from in between your legs. He gives you a look that signals for you to keep talking, not bothering to stop the desperate attack on your skin that was surely going to leave marks the next morning.

“You make me come—I’ll blow you.” You say breathlessly, squirming again as the heat from his breath hits your bare cunt. “Deal?”

“Fuck yeah.”

He starts gentle, easy, separating your folds with his tongue and teasing at your clit. You sigh, admiring the sight of Eddie’s head tucked between your legs, face buried into the apex of your thighs. It seemed like a bold statement at first, the idea of Eddie making you come with nothing but his mouth—but you realize your own feeble mistake. Eddie turned you on enough that he didn’t need to use fingers, you could come with just his mouth—hell, just the sight of him between your legs had your thighs clenching around his head, caging him in place.

The hand that isn’t resting against your stomach pulls against the inside of your thigh, forcing your legs open wider, and wider. He’s practically drinking you in now, switching between licking and sucking at your sensitive clit in intervals that had your body arching in pleasure and agony—agony at the fact that this couldn’t continue on forever.

“You’re such a liar.” You force out through clenched teeth, his chuckle is apparent as it vibrates against your cunt, sending you reeling.

“Just because I haven’t had sex doesn’t mean I can’t compensate in other areas.” And then he’s back to work.

“Oh, oh fuck.” You’re desperately trying to keep your voice down, the only solution being for you to cover your mouth with your hand, muffling the moans that Eddie was pulling out of you. “This is cruel.”

“You’re really wet.” He observes, pulling back to allow you both a breather, “It’s all over your sheets.”

“Shit happens—I’ll wash them later—just keep going, please.” You rush out, using your hands to physically direct him back to your cunt, his nose brushing up against your clit as his tongue dipped inside of you.

You were passed caring at this point, desperate for the orgasm that was building in your lower abdomen. You’ve got the sheets in a knuckle white grip, gasping at every lick and nudge he made against your sensitive and swollen clit, face burning with the heat of how close you were, flushed a deep red.

“Gonna come, Eddie.” You warn, which only encourages him further. And god, the mouth on him. He’s licking desperately at your cunt, your juices and his spit mixing together to create a glorious slippery mess that created the perfect amount of friction.

And he feels it coming, the way your fingers grip the hair at the base of his head, he reaches up to cover your mouth, you clasp your own hand over his—and finally, you let go.

“Christ.” You say on an exhale, dizzy from what had to be the single most hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt. “Get the fuck up here, Eddie.”

“And just like that,” He snaps, “stress free.” His face is wet still, covered in you, and you can’t help but laugh. “What, something on my face?” You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt to wipe away the mess from his mouth.

“All good.” You assure him, patting his chest gently. It takes a while for you to finally gain your bearings, but eventually you do. “And like I said—a deal is a deal.” You turn to look at him, enjoying the way he’s spread out on your bed, smug and jovial. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

He nods, “With a gorgeous someone like you asking to suck my dick? Absolutely.”

Eddie sure had a way with words.

“Here, turn this way.” You tell him, tapping his thigh softly so he’d move.

“Why can’t I—“ You drop to your knees on the soft carpet of your floor, fitting perfectly between his legs. “Oh.”

You unbuckle his belt, fumbling a little with the loops, so you forgo trying to take the whole thing off and just focus on being able to unbutton his pants. He pushes them down, letting them pool around his ankles.

Eddie doesn't really know where to put his hands, first his thighs, then the sheets and back again. “Do I just—“

You place his hands on either side of him, wrapped around the edge of the mattress and—Jesus, was that more a turn on than having his head between your thighs, his rings shining prominently against the pale skin of his fingers.

“Just keep them there and flow with whatever works, Eddie. You tell me what feels good.” He nods softly.

He’s hard already, reeling off the high of going down on you, so instead of trying to tease him any longer—which you weren’t sure he could handle, you peel his underwear down, enough to where it drops on its own and you can finally admire his dick in full view, completely bare.

You didn’t realize you had your bottom lip pulled underneath your top row of teeth until Eddie was rubbing gently at your chin, staring down at you with gentle, loving eyes. It’s so sickeningly sweet that you want to burst into tears.

“No fingers?” You tease. “Just my mouth?”

“I think we can make an exception in this case.”

You waste no time in wrapping your hand around his shaft, Eddie swallowing audibly from above you. Still in one piece, that was good. You move slowly, a few long, languid strokes of his dick until you’re peering up at him asking, “Is this good?”

Contrary to whatever Eddie might be thinking, you’ve never actually had anyone’s anything in your mouth. Handjobs were easy, quick—but you’d never gone so far as to give a blowjob to any guy you’ve ever hooked up with. This was all new territory for you.

“Here.” Eddie has a firm grip around your hand, pushing you to squeeze a little tight, tug faster, enough to build a steady pace of both pressure and friction. “Shit—like that. That’s good.”

He sighs shakily, leaning more into the weight of his arm, praying to whatever god out there that it was enough to keep him upright.

You lean forward to lick at the tip carefully, he’s quiet and methodical, like he’s trying to focus on something. His eyes are shut right, hands now balled into fists.

Another lick this time, from the base of his dick to the tip before you’re swallowing him down, using your hands to follow what your mouth couldn’t. Unfortunately for you, gag reflexes were definitely still a thing and you weren’t going to force what wouldn’t fit—and there was a lot of Eddie that wasn’t going to fit. He was, without a doubt, bigger than any other person you’d been with—not so comical that it didn’t seem real, but it was more than enough.

“Fuck, this is gonna over way to quick.” He groans, “Slow-slow down.”

“Hands in my hair.” You tell him, guiding a hand toward the back of your head, he obeys easily, fingers twisted into the hair at the base of your neck. “Control the pace, I’ll follow.”

“You’re not real.” He breathes out in disbelief, rewarding him by swirling your tongue around the tip of his dick before your lips wrap around it, sucking lightly.

He moans louder than you initially expected, both of you pulling back in shock, your hand immediately darting toward his mouth.

“Don’t think I won’t shove something in your mouth if you want to keep that up.” You warned halfheartedly, but you were definitely more serious than playful.

“I can’t make any promises, sweetheart.” Well, you appreciated the honesty.

You suck him down again, as fully as possible, keeping a steady rhythm around his dick. He’s holding himself together better, but he’s still pretty noisy regardless. You reach aimlessly for something, anything, to shove in his mouth.

“Back pocket of my jeans,” He says, practically whining, “the—fuck, just grab it, you know what I’m talking about.”

You quickly yank at the black handkerchief in the pocket of his jeans, shoving it quickly into his mouth on the uptick of another groan, muffled perfectly by the fabric.

He bucks his hips on a particular downward motion of your mouth, the back of his dick hitting your throat and nearly causing you to gag, but you recover, bringing him closer and closer to his own orgasm. Eddie can’t even focus on his own thoughts at this point, he sounds insufferable. He’s gone from upright to sprawled across your sheets, gasping underneath the confines of the cloth.

“Gonna come,” Eddie forces out, quickly unstuffing his mouth, patting your shoulder gently as a warning, “you gotta pull off.”

You do and just in time for Eddie to spill over his stomach, his shirt having thankfully ridden up enough in his constant squirming that it narrowly managed to miss it. He’s clearly forcing himself to keep quiet, feeling himself coming down from the most mind blowing orgasm he’s ever received by another person. You try not to sit too long on the fact that no one has ever seen him the way you have, so blown out from an orgasm that you caused.

Eddie slowly pulls his underwear and jeans back over his hips, leaving them unbuttoned as he falls back on your bed, dragging you down with him.

“You really are the gift that keeps on giving.” He jokes, rubbing your back gently, hands finding their way underneath the fabric of your shirt, barely finger tipping past the point of your ass, playing absently with the hem of your underwear.

“And this gift needs some sleep.” You tell him.

And so what if you both ended up cuddled underneath the covers in your bedroom that night, neither of you bothering to ruin this tiny bit of bliss you had created. Eddie still managed to sneak out that morning without any evidence that he had ever been there.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Eddie can’t stop touching you since the night you two shared over the weekend, always finding any reason to have a hand on you—against your back, resting against the soft dip in your waist, or just dealing his arm around your shoulder in an effort to pull you closer.

“You sure you wanna try?” He asks, holding the joint in front of your face, waiting for you to grab it. “You really don’t have to.”

You wanted to, even if it was only this once. You had to live through the hype that everyone was talking about, even if you decided to never touch it after this moment, ever again.

“For the tenth time—yes.” You laugh, snatching the joint from his fingers and pulling it toward your lips. You remember what Eddie told you. Breathe in, not too deep, hold, then out through your nose.

But, you fuck up on the second step, taking in a little too much, lungs burning from the smoke you inhaled. You lean over, feeling like you’re going to cough yourself into a miserable death on the floor of Eddie’s trailer.

“We’ll work on it.” Eddie assures you, rubbing your back comfortingly.

It was the first and last time you ever touched a joint.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Christmas comes and goes, a flurry of family visits and gift giving to all of your friends, leading up to dinner at Eddie’s trailer the evening of the day after, enjoying a small dinner with himself and his uncle. There’s some small talk, but most of the dinner is spent with you watching the two of them debate over some band you aren’t even sure you’ve ever heard of.

“Thank you.” Eddie tells you when he’s finally parked in front of your house, rubbing the backside of your hand with his thumb, fingers curling around your palm. You squeeze his hand in return.

“It was nice.” You admit. “My family is really loud, so it was a lot more enjoyable than you’d think.”

He chuckles softly, not wanting to let go of your hand, and not really wanting to say goodbye, either. You check the driveway, reminding yourself that your parents had left for another party a few towns over, a family friend.

“Hey, why don’t you stay for a bit?” You suggest, nodding in the direction of your house. “My parents won’t be home until midnight, I’m guessing–so maybe I can finally give you a grand tour without my parents asking you a million questions.” And ask they would, which is exactly why he hadn’t officially met them yet. Plus, he hadn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend in any sense of the word–so it didn’t feel right either way.

Eddie doesn’t even so much as hesitate, hopping out of his car to follow you to the front door. The house is a decent size–a few bedrooms and a couple bathrooms, kitchen, all the normal things you would expect from a house in the suburbs.

You both collapse on your bed the moment you enter your room, both exhausted and full from the ridiculous amount of food you consumed over dinner.

Eddie finds out that you talk in your sleep that night–which should be considered singing, but your voice is so off-key that not even he can sugarcoat it. He doesn’t say anything, though. He listens to you jam out into the quiet ambiance of your room, ceiling fan buzzing from above.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Let’s have sex.” Eddie interjects bluntly, causing you to choke on the giant swig of water you had just attempted to swallow. It was New Years Eve and you both had planned to spend it together, even if you didn’t really have anything fun to do—spending time with Eddie was always eventful—case in point.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly, “Okay.” You never bothered to push Eddie on the topic, letting him come to that decision when he felt like it. Plus, his courage has probably been boosted from all the orgasms he’s given you, not that you were complaining—Eddie gave amazing head.

It doesn’t take much more coaxing to get you into his bed, naked from the waist up, Eddie’s mouth focused on nothing but the soft, plush valley of your breasts. He squeezed the one that wasn’t occupied by his mouth gently, tongue swirling around the bud of your nipple.It felt good, amazing, but you were way too horny to focus on the feeling of Eddie's mouth against your tits for this long.

“This is probably a terrible time to bring this up—“ He begins, but you silence him, tearing his mouth away from your tender breast and up to your mouth.

“Whatever it is, it can wait.” You laugh softly. Eddie’s looking up at you, his hair a wild mess. He looks innocent and naive, with no idea what he was getting himself into. “Do you have condoms?”

Bareback was a hard no—no matter who it was. Although, the idea of tiny little Eddie’s running around was adorable, just not enough to sacrifice everything you learned in Sex Ed. He nods eagerly, reaching over you to grab a thin box from the top of his bedside table. He shakes it, box still unopened.

“How long have you had those?” You ask, almost certain you’d never seen any in his place before.

“A few weeks.” He shrugs, pulling one of the small tin foil squares out of the box and tossing it on the floor. “Wasn’t sure when I should bring it up, you know?”

Like you wouldn’t jump his bones the second he asked, regardless if it had been two days ago or two weeks. You had waited patiently for Eddie to come to the decision on his own, and that’s all you could do. It wasn’t something you two always tiptoed around, you didn’t treat it like he had some ailment that kept him from pleasing you otherwise, it was just one step you hadn’t gotten to yet.

“Have you been planning this, Munson?” You tease, fingers dragging down his chest slowly, stopping just at the edge of his belt, your fingers curling around it.

“You can’t prove anything.” He replies, shoving his face into the crook of your neck to bite teasingly at the skin there. You yelp, squirming in the way it sends shivers down your spine.

“Beautiful, charming, and chivalrous—what did I do to deserve you?” You ask, a smile gracing your face. “Not to mention how downright dirty that mouth is.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises, sweetheart.” His voice low and teasing, coming up to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, all tongue and eager enthusiasm.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Part of you was glad that the shyness between you both was long gone, having seen each other in enough intimate ways that now—it was normal. It took a lot of the edge off for Eddie, who seemed more and more relaxed as the night drew on. You’d both forgone clothing very early on, relishing in the sight of being able to see Eddie completely bare—tattoo and toned muscle on full display.

He’s pretty insistent about going down on you despite how you insisted he didn’t have to, but it was Eddie—always wanting to give more than he took.

“Just like that.” You sigh softly, hips hovering over his mouth, your cunt making a mess all over his face. “Fuck—don’t stop.”

His tongue works quickly, rubbing over the sensitive nub of your swollen clit, his hands coming behind you to pull you further against his face. He’s practically groaning underneath you, hips bucking up into nothing—you’re ready to put him out of his misery, but the crashing feeling of your orgasm creeps up on you out of nowhere, cunt riding it out against his face, which he ravished greedily.

He’s very adamant about not having you return the favor. “There’s no way I’ll last through you doing that and being inside you without blowing my load, at least once. And truthfully, I’d like this to last a little longer than thirty seconds.”

He’s painfully honest and it’s adorable.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He sighs, brows furrowed slightly.

“You want me on top?” You ask softly, hovering over his bare thighs.

“Are you actually asking me that?” He laughs, a little dumbfounded. He’s right, stupid question.

You grab his hand, guiding it toward your sensitive pussy, allowing him to dip a single digit inside of you. He breathes in sharply, his fingers barely moving. He wasn’t even inside you and he already looked like he could fall apart.

Eddie notices the way your eyes fall shut, basking in the feeling of being filled up, even if it wasn’t by him—not really. He’s slow, precise, curling his finger ever so often until you’re rocking against his own hand, then he’s adding another. “More.” You say, he listens one obediently, squeezing another finger into you, working steadily inside of you now. The stretch felt amazing, but it was still lacking what you needed. You reach between you both, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, pulling gently.

He’s quiet, eyes closed. You pull again, rubbing your thumb over the tip, spreading the small amount of precome that had leaked out. “Fuck, I wanna be inside you.” Eddie moans, mouth hung open slightly.

You decide to finally put him out of his misery.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Eddie’s silent as he slips on the condom, his tongue sticking out past his lips from focusing too hard. “Okay, I think we’re good.” He says finally, looking up at you. He squeezes at the side of your waist, pulling you over him.

You guide him inside of you, sinking down into him slowly. It had been far too long since you had been with anyone, the stretch making you wince slightly—it didn’t help that Eddie was a lot larger than what you were typically used to.

Eddie lets out a plethora of soft, random noises—watching intently as your cunt swallows him before finally it can’t take anymore, now pressed fully against one another.

“Move. Just move.” He urges you, hands gripping your waist tightly, you being the only thing anchoring him to reality.

You do, slowly, rocking against him until he’s finally able to focus—“You okay?” You say softly, and the look he gives is something you will never be able to get out of your mind—bottom lip sucked between his teeth, eyes locked on the place where you were both joined together, before glancing up to look at you. He nods jerkily, “Wanna switch?” You ask, giving him the chance to control the pace.

“Please—I already feel like I’m gonna come quickly, but having you on top is just—“ He didn’t feel the need to elaborate.

He flips you over easily, manhandling you against his sheets. Your hips rested high up onto his hips, his forearms barricading your head. He’s moving slowly, too slowly, a short thrust of his hips every couple seconds. Eddie wasn’t going to last long and you knew it.

“Hey, it’s fine.” You reassure him, “Stop thinking.”

“Okay,” He nods, moving his hips faster, “I’m not going to last long, I’m sorry.”

“Eddie,” You grab his chin, pulling attention toward your face, “stop apologizing and fuck me.”

And it’s all he needs to hear.

His mouth latches into the dip of your collarbone, sucking lightly, snapping his hips at a pace that had you moaning out in pleasure. “Feels so good, Eddie.” He bites at the skin of your shoulder and it really shouldn’t turn you on as much as it should. “Again,” you encourage him, “do that again.”

His teeth trail against the skin of your neck, up under your chin, before suck your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth digging in gently. “Say my name.” He breathes against your open mouth.

“Eddie.” You sigh, voice squeaking on a particularly hard snap of his hips. He moans outwardly, loud and strangled. Eddie could feel himself falling apart.

“Fuck—I can’t. I’m gonna come.” He groans out, grunting at the feeling of you squeezing down against his dick.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, letting him bury his into your neck, his sounds muffled into the sheets.

Eddie’s loud when he comes, hands gripping your thighs so hard that you were definitely going to leave bruises, but you didn’t mind. “Fuck!” He shouts, riding himself through his orgasm before he’s collapsing on top of you. “Holy shit.”

“Well, that’s one way to ring in the New Year.” You comment, hand reaching to wipe that hair out of his face where it had been stuck with sweat. He huffs into your cheek, nose squished against your face. Eddie kisses your cheek, your nose, before capturing your mouth. He pulls out slowly, tying off the condom and tossing it into the trash bin beside his bed before returning back to his original position on top of you,

“Inside of my girlfriend?” He asks, pulling back to look at you. The word slips out accidentally.

“Girlfriend?” You ask, eyebrow raised in question.

“Well, that’s what I was trying to ask you early—but someone was just too horny they couldn’t wait for me to ask. I guess I probably shouldn’t assume you would say yes but—“

“Ask me again.” You tell him, finger coming up to trace his bottom lip. He smiles widely, biting the finger in retaliation.

“Fine.” He kisses the side of your hand. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Hmm.” You start, “Well-“

“Oh, no way—“ You immediately clasp your hand over his mouth.

“Yes.” You tell him, eyes boring into his own. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”