Feeling Both Of These Very Strongly Rn:

ahhhh thank you my love!!! I was just feeling really soft for him and had to make it sweet, esp after vol 2🥹

I Was Made For Lovin’ You

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

song inspo: I was made for lovin’ you by kiss

main masterlist // nsfw masterlist

word count: 3.4k

summary: Eddie believes you’re a “quiet miss goody-two-shoes”. You’re going to prove him wrong.

warnings: SMUT (18+), minors DNI!, both eddie and reader are 18+, fingering (feat. ring kink), oral (m), sub/dom dynamics, PIV, unprotected sex (pls be safe irl), cowgirl to missionary, dirty talk, praise kink, biting kink/leaving hickeys, creampie, language, mutual pining, fluff, eddie being sweet, tattoo tracing, way too many fucking italics and semi colons, it ends real sweet tho

A/N: This is a part two to I wanna be with you but I wrote it so it could be read as a standalone. Also, I’ve never written a smut oneshot, so this was definitely a challenge, but I tried my best. :)

It’s silent between the two of you on the drive back to Eddie’s place. He has the radio tuned to the local rock station, and you can hear Metallica’s Master of Puppets playing through the speakers. You were bopping your head, drumming your fingers, and silently singing along to the song. Eddie could hear you and would turn to look at you during stop lights. He couldn’t fucking believe that you, quiet miss goody two shoes, were in his van and heading back to his place. He thought he was losing his mind but in the best way possible.  

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𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 || eddie munson x reader

summary - have you ever heard that saying, it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt? well, being eddie's best friend with benefits is all fun and games, too, until he gets a girlfriend.

word count - 10k

warnings - SMUT (18+ only), cheating!!, ANGST, completely fucking up canon because I can (everyone is alive but something supernatural did happen and eddie was still accused in chrissy's disappearance but ultimately cleared; also I decided this is vol 1 jason not vol 2 jason), oral sex m receiving, penetrative/unprotected sex, smoking, implied/mentioned drug use, sympathetic jason gets a touch of a redemption arc and also hooks up with the reader oops sorry, punk!reader, good ending, unrequited love (or is it?), pining, gareth being mvp, reader is self-hating and insecure

note - this is NOT meant as any kind of statement about eddie/chrissy as a ship, I'm not anti-eddissy and I firmly believe in 'ship and let ship', this is simply a very angsty idea I had and one interpretation of how their relationship could go. again, no ship hate here!

“What about Chrissy?” you sighed as his lips trailed down your neck.

“What about her?” he whispered back, biting down lightly on your pulse.

And you were so stupid, you were so goddamn stupid; when he said that, the first time it happened after they got together, you thought that meant he was gonna break up with her.  Stupider still, you thought he was gonna break up with her and finally date you.

You were so, so stupid.

Stupid for falling for your best friend.  Stupid for hooking up with him for months knowing he didn’t want the ‘more’ that you were desperate for.  Stupid for letting him come over after another fight with his new girlfriend; stupid for letting him touch you like this.  But, like I said, it was only because you thought he was gonna end it.  And not just because he couldn’t stay away from you; there were so many reasons why Eddie and Chrissy just weren’t working.

It started under such bizarre circumstances, and all that trauma brought them together, but no solid relationship is built on an experience like that; it made sense for a fling, maybe, but dating?  The couple had clearly run their course, but apparently they were the only ones that didn’t see it (or refused to).

She was too needy, he was too impulsive.  She was ambitious, he was terribly short-sighted.  She was a little… judgy, sometimes; honestly, he could be, too, but they seemed to always judge in the opposite way and then argue with each other about it.  She was busy with cheer shit all the time, but got mad when he couldn’t go out with her because he had Hellfire.  It was nauseating to watch.

Almost as nauseating as waking up to an empty bed, expecting him there, only for him to call you an hour later from her place to whisper, hey, what happened s’just between us, right?

Oh, it was.  Another dirty secret; you’d played this game one too many times, and yet you still always lost.

All you ever wanted was Eddie all to yourself.  Instead, you were pushing your food around your plate while they viciously made out at the lunch table.  You couldn’t be too jealous, knowing he was going to come over tonight and kiss you just like that— probably even harder.  All you ever wanted was Eddie all to yourself, but you were going to settle for the one little piece he let you borrow.

“I’ve gotta go,” Chrissy suddenly decided, pulling back from the kiss, and Eddie whined pathetically as he held onto her waist tighter.

“Already?” he pouted.

“I have to study before my Geometry final,” she insisted as Eddie leaned in to peck at her neck.

“Fuck Geometry,” he shrugged, smiling against her skin.  You wanted to look away so badly, at anything else, but your traitorous eyes were glued to the public display of affection— which was cut short a split second later.

“I’m going, okay?” she snapped suddenly, shoving his arms away, and he cleared his throat as he straightened up.  “Don’t you think that attitude is how you ended up having to repeat the year in the first place?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he blurted out, “I was just playing around…”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, standing up.  “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” he sighed, turning back to the table as she left, offering an awkward half-smile to the rest of the table as they all struggled to hide their obvious discomfort.

The first time this kind of thing happened, Jeff joked about it— trouble in paradise? he said, realizing quickly that he’d hit too close to home when Eddie scoffed and looked away.  Now everybody was just… ignoring it.  

You remembered asking him about it later, trying to delicately broach the topic.

“I mean, what do you guys even have to talk about?” you’d wondered.  “You don’t like any of the same things.”

Eddie had just smirked.  “Honestly, we don’t do that much talking.”

And you’d wanted to vomit.  You hated imagining them together.  It was bad enough seeing it, seeing her perched on his lap or his arm around her shoulders, the kissing in the hallway— it felt like it never stopped! 

It was puppy love, and you kept telling yourself it would be over soon.  That felt like ages ago, it had already been months.  And, in some ways, it was over.  I mean, he was fucking you a couple times a week, so clearly it wasn’t quite thriving.  But it wasn’t over in the key way: that being, officially.  They were still playing along, still pretending. 

The almost-good news is that they hadn’t actually done it, like you’d assumed (and worried).  Apparently, Chrissy was a bit prudish— she liked to fool around, but stopped him before it got anywhere particularly interesting, and anything of that nature had become less and less frequent the longer they were together; you didn’t know much more than that, because he didn’t like to talk about it.  He didn’t talk about her when he was with you… made it easier for both of you to forget.

Well, he didn’t talk about her usually…

“Fuck, that’s good,” he sighed as his hand came up to rest on the back of your head.  “Take it a little deeper, baby?  For me?”

You did, blinking up at him just in time to watch his head fall back onto the top of the couch with a groan.

“She won’t do this,” he said suddenly, making your stomach drop; you really, really didn’t want to think about her, but your mouth was full, so you couldn’t tell him to stop.  “She never does this— fuck, you’re so good, baby, y’suck my cock so good…”

Letting go of the base, you took his head into your throat until your nose was buried in the patch of black hair above his dick; maybe some delusional part of you thought this would finally convince him, that if you gave him perfect head he’d have to leave her.  But he didn’t need to— he got the girlfriend experience from her, and he got this from you.  Sure, he was attracted to you, he liked fucking you… but he respected her.  He idolized her, actually, and it was why he’d never let her go.  You knew that, and your eyes were watering from more than just the tension in your gag reflex.

“Oh my god,” Eddie groaned, fingers tightening and semi-unintentionally tugging on your hair, which made you moan around him as you pulled back and gave your throat a moment of rest.  “Fuck, get up— gotta fuck you,” he rushed.

He pulled you into his lap as soon as you were standing, helping you unbutton your jeans quickly.  When they were open, he started roughly tugging them down faster than you could get in position to make them actually removable, and you laughed quietly.  “That desperate already?”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” he warned you sharply, pushing you down to lay beneath him on the couch as he finally got your jeans off; already, he was pressing his cock up to your opening, and you arched your back under him.  “You want it?” he taunted, just to make sure you knew your place— you did.

“Please,” you whined, “fuck me, Ed.”

And he did.

When it was over, there was always this brief silence before suddenly it was all back to normal.  It was even shorter than usual this time, him laying on the couch catching his breath as he watched you get dressed.  “Need a ride to Hellfire tonight?” he asked.

“Nah— I’m good,” you nodded.  “Finally got my car out of the shop.”

He scoffed slightly, reaching for a cigarette from the box he’d discarded on the floor earlier.  “Took them long enough,” he mumbled around it as he held it between his lips, fishing a lighter out of his jeans pocket.

“Yeah, with how much I paid, I was hoping they gave it fuckin’ rockets on the back or something,” you chuckled.

He took a drag of the cigarette, keeping it in his mouth as he exhaled around it, his bare chest a little shiny with a sheen of sweat.

“Can I bum?” you asked, sort of hoping to share the one he’d already lit— for some reason— but instead he offered the pack to you and you pulled one out for yourself.  “Is this the same pack you had a couple days ago?”

“Yeah, why?” he wondered, handing you the lighter from his pocket next.

“You’ve barely gotten through it,” you noticed.  “You cutting back or something?”

He shrugged slightly, just as you were inhaling the first lungful of smoke.  “Chrissy wants me to.”

You coughed, puffs of smoke rising in front of your face, and you caught his bemused-and-confused look through them.  

“You alright over there?” he laughed.  “Never seen you struggle with smoking before.”

“I’m good,” you promised, though you were still trying to suppress a cough, which made your whole face feel tight and you just knew your eyes were all bloodshot and watery.  “I’d better head out though.”

“Aw, really?” he frowned.  “Thought we could hang out— you know, like we used to?  Feel like I hardly see you anymore… except, you know—”

“Yeah, I know,” you interrupted quickly, finding your discarded jacket on the floor and shrugging it on.  “Guess we both just got busy.”

“Oh, we got busy,” he grinned, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile as you rolled your eyes at his joke.  

“You know what I mean,” you defended.  “I’ll see you at Hellfire anyways, just wanna go home and shower first.”

He shrugged.  “Guess I can’t blame you for that.  See you tonight!”

Your hand was already on the handle of the door.  You thought about staying; but honestly, you didn’t think your heart could take it.  If you stayed, you’d end up laughing until you cried, hiding your head in his chest, watching some shitty movie on tape and muted while he made up the dialogue off the top of his head in silly voices.  It sounded perfect, but it would kill you.  It’s just… too close to the real thing.  So close it makes you imagine what it would be like if he was really yours.  ‘Cause you can laugh together, and you can fuck, but you can’t hold his hand or kiss him in public— and he can’t look at you the way he looks at her.  Because she’s her.  And you’re… just you.  Just a friend.  Even if you’re this kind of friend.

You offered him a half-hearted wave over your shoulder before you jumped out the door and down the rickety little porch.  There was a tear on your cheek as you walked out of the trailer park, but you wiped it away quickly.

No more crying over Eddie, you’d made that promise to yourself a thousand times.

~

Eddie was staying late today, because Chrissy was staying late.  Apparently she had some kind of cheer thing on the football field; you, on the other hand, were staying late for office hours with Ms. O'Donnell.  Much less exciting.

Thankfully, you did leave her room with some understanding of how to prepare for the final— but it wasn't exactly the lift of your spirits that you could've used tonight.  Neither was walking out of the building and seeing them, a-fucking-gain.

The afternoon was turning to evening already, the sun low and bright orange in the sky— it made the trees look black when it shined through them.  The field was nearly empty now, whatever cheer practice had taken place was clearly over… all that was left was Chrissy, laughing as Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist.  

You looked over to the side, and noticed someone just a few feet away on the front row of the bleachers, staring out across the field.  Of course, that gaudy green jacket and quaffed blonde hair could only be Jason Carver— but if it weren't for that, he'd be unrecognizable.

His eyes were red, sunken and hung low over purple dark circles.  He looked pathetic; he looked how you felt.

“Hey,” you offered softly.  Sure, he was kind of a douche— okay, he actually sort of tried to kill your best friend, but hey, sometimes you wanted to kill Eddie, too.

“Leave me alone,” Jason sniffled, glancing away.  “Freak.”

You ignored his demand, sitting down next to him on the steel bleacher.  For a long time, neither of you said anything— it wasn’t that long, but it felt like ages, even though it wasn’t quite an awkward silence.  Somehow, without saying anything, you seemed to come to an understanding with each other.  You didn’t have anything in common, except your pain; without asking, just by looking over at you for a second, he seemed to know that it hurt you like it hurt him.

“How much longer?” he finally asked you.  “How long do you give it?”

You shrugged.  “I don’t guess anymore.  I thought it would be over by now.”

“What if they really—?” he stopped himself, shaking his head with a sad little laugh.  “God, I can’t believe I’m saying this— but what if they really make it, you know?  Like, what if this is it?”

You didn’t say anything.  You were trying not to think about it like that.

“I’m so stupid,” he announced.  “I mean, I really thought it was gonna be me and her— I was gonna play for Indiana State and she was gonna be my girl.  I was gonna get a ring, I would’ve… I would’ve done it sooner, I just thought we were still a little too young.  I never even thought about what my life would be without her in it, not even when everyone thought she was dead.  ‘Cause she is my life.”

“That must be hard,” you offered.  “Maybe— I mean, it could still happen, right?”

“No, no,” he shook his head defiantly, “she’s gone.  And I still have no idea what the fuck I’m supposed to do without her— she’s supposed to be my wife!  I know she’s not, but that’s how it feels… I mean, I look over there, and I’m thinking, fuck, Eddie Munson is kissing my wife!”

“You are stupid,” you agreed with the biggest smile you could muster— which was barely noticeable.  “So am I.”

“She told me she loved him,” he sighed, whispering instead of letting his voice break.  Your heart twisted, you almost gasped; you'd never heard her say that.

“When?”

“When I first saw her,” he explained, reaching up to cover his eyes— but it didn’t stop a tear from sliding out underneath it.  “I just found out she was still alive, and I thought he’d kidnapped her or something, brainwashed her— she told me not to hurt him, she said she loved him.  She said that shit to me!”

Eddie never told you he loved Chrissy, but you knew that he did— or that he thought he did.

“How can she just throw that all away?” he wondered, rubbing his eyes and gathering himself slightly to look across the field at them one more time.

“I think she still loves you,” you decided.  “I mean— I’m not saying you’re gonna get back together, I’m not even sure that you should.  I’m just saying… I think she’s not quite over it yet.”

He turned to stare at you.

“It’s a rebound!” you insisted.  “He doesn’t believe me— but she’s trying to get over you, with him.  But she can’t, it’s not working.”

“Really?  She looks like she’s having a great fucking time,” he sneered as he nodded over at them.

You were about to tell him that, no, she’s not— at least she doesn’t seem to be— but he spoke first.

“Tell me he’s good to her,” Jason pleaded.  “Does he treat her right?  Are they happy?”

You froze, but he spoke again before you even considered what you might say to that.

“You know what,” he sighed, “don’t tell me.  I don’t think either answer would make me feel any better.”

“He’s cheating on her,” you heard yourself blurt out, and you didn’t even know why you said it.  Maybe you just needed to tell someone.

You knew then why they say when someone’s really mad, they’re fuming— because you could all but feel heat coming off of him in that moment.  “I’m gonna kill him,” he announced as he stood up, “I really am this time, I fucking mean it—”

He was stepping forward to storm across the field already, but you jumped up and put your hands on his jacket to try to stop him.  You expected him to glare at you, but when his eyes fell on your face, there wasn’t rage there anymore; there was this indescribable thing instead, the same thing you knew he must’ve seen in your eyes, too.  Like grief, but for someone still alive.

His mouth fell open, but he didn’t say it right away.  “Oh god,” he breathed, and you were already nodding before he asked the question.  “It’s you, isn’t it?”

You wanted to look away, his stare was like a bright light shined in your eyes during an interrogation; but you couldn’t, your eyes were looking forward to him even as they filled with tears.

“How can you do that to her?” he whined, almost sounding like a plea, as he grabbed your arms.  “She’s a good person!  How can you— how could you—?”

“I don’t know,” you whimpered, biting your quivering lip.  

“Yes you do!” he insisted.  And you figured you owed it to him, and to yourself, to admit it.

“You love her, right?” you began, obviously a rhetorical question.  “Who would you hurt, to be with her?  You almost killed Eddie over it, right?  Wouldn’t you burn the whole fucking world down just to hold her again?”

He didn’t say anything, and you felt his chest rising and falling under your hands as he breathed heavily.

“I know how that feels,” you offered.  And that’s all you said.  He didn’t say anything, didn’t give you any warning— just glancing down at your lips for a second before he pulled you towards him.

Kissing Jason Carver felt wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.  But even kissing Eddie didn’t feel right anymore, knowing how many people were getting hurt— including yourself.

Jason’s hands on your waist felt wrong, his breathing against your face and his tongue over your lips felt wrong.  But you clutched at the lapel of his varsity jacket, whimpering quietly and leaning in for more.

It ended suddenly, and when you both pulled away, you saw him looking over your shoulder.  “Are they looking?” you wondered.

He shook his head. 

"Are they still kissing?" you added, sounding slightly defeated.

He nodded.  “Let’s— you wanna get out of here?” he suggested.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

~

Listen, nobody ever really knows how their day is gonna go when they wake up— they might think they do, but they really don’t for sure.  But even still, you never woke up today thinking that the next time you were going to be in your bedroom, you’d be dragging Jason Carver through the door with you, kissing him hard and helping him push his jacket off.

He lifted you for just a second to get you down onto the bed, clutching at the sheets beneath you as you whimpered a little.  You were making quick work of his belt and jeans at the same time that he was trying to navigate getting your t-shirt over your head.

It’s hard to say what you were expecting sex with Jason to be like, because, well, you’d never expected this or even pictured it.  If you’d tried to, before— likely during some twisted game of fuck marry kill with Eddie while stoned in his van— you would’ve said it must be horrible, It was actually really… freeing.  You both knew that the other was thinking of somebody else, you didn’t need to hide it.  You didn’t need to say anything, you didn’t need to stop crying or act sexy or be what you thought he wanted. 

It was kind of a hatefuck, because you hated each other— and you hated yourself— but it was also… sweet, weirdly.  He was certainly more tender with you than Eddie was most of the time.  

When it was over, you just laid next to each other for the longest time.  You didn’t hold each other, you didn’t kiss, or talk, or laugh.  You just laid on the sheets, feeling the slight dampness from your sweat start to go cold.  It got darker every minute, until the sun finally crossed the horizon and a chilly breeze blew in through your open window.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” he asked after what must have been nearly a half hour of silence.  You nodded.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, you didn’t even remember shutting your eyes— but suddenly, you opened them, and the sun was up, and Jason was beside you with his back facing you.

Your fingers reached up and tentatively traced over his back— he had a mole, and a couple scars, which was more than you expected from someone like Jason… he always seemed like he must be blemishless.

He lifted and turned his head over his shoulder, looking at you.  You found less disappointment in his eyes than you expected, but you knew that you weren't who he was looking for— and you didn't blame him.  Wasn't the first time you slept with a guy who really wanted Chrissy.  Kind of a bizarre pattern you were setting, actually.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Not time to get up yet," you offered.  "Sorry if I woke you up…"

"No, it's okay," he promised as he turned onto his back and looked at you.  "Did you sleep alright?"

"Yeah, I did," you admitted, "better than I have in a while, actually."

He smiled at you gently.  "Me too."

His hand reached up to brush against your face, and your breath caught as he started to move in closer to your lips.  You were about to let him kiss you when your hands instinctively shot up to his chest and held him back.  "Jason, I—" you began. 

"I know," he breathed, looking down.  "Just thought it might be nice."

So you leaned in and kissed him; and it was nice.  Shockingly comfortable.  But you both tasted that sadness, knowing this wasn't anything more than what it needed to be— just two heart-broken people staving off the loneliness for a night.  

When he pulled back, he looked at you for a second before he cleared his throat.  "Mind if I, uh, use your shower?"

"Take a right down the hall, first door on your left," you nodded at him, and he sat up with a quick stretch before hopping out onto the floor.

You stayed in bed a while longer, staring up at the ceiling, looking at the crack that had started by the corner last year and slowly spread further and further; maybe this whole roof would collapse onto you, that would be nice.

Eventually, you got up and got half-dressed so you could forage for some kind of breakfast before school.  You were halfway into toasting a bagel when you heard a knock at your front door— but it opened a second later, because he already knew it was never locked.

“Hey,” Gareth greeted, sauntering in and hopping up to sit in the chair by your kitchen island.

“Morning,” you offered, trying to act casual— because you weren’t about to tell him you had someone over, because he would just ask who it was…

Gareth being one of your closest friends meant that he showed up unannounced sometimes, especially in the morning before school— you’d been carpooling since your car was in the shop anyways, but he usually stopped by regardless.  And if Eddie was here in the morning, he wouldn’t even blink— because Eddie stayed the night with you all the time and it didn’t mean anything to Gareth, even if you and Eddie knew it hadn’t been a just-friends sort of sleepover.  But this would be harder to explain, and you kept glancing at the closed bathroom door, hoping Gareth wouldn’t notice the sounds of the running shower.

“Have you eaten already?” you asked him.

“Yeah— m’not here to mooch, don’t worry,” he smiled.  “Although I could use all the free food I can get while I’m saving up for a new drum set.”

You hummed around a mouthful of bagel and shmear; “Stick went through the snare again?”

“Yup,” he nodded.  “Collateral damage when you rock this hard.”

You snorted a little laugh, though your face dropped as you looked over Gareth’s flannel-clad shoulder.

Jason appeared out of the hallway, wearing only his basketball shorts and drying his hair with a towel.  Gareth spun around with wide eyes, and you choked on nothing as the two boys stared at each other.

They didn’t say anything to each other— I mean, what would those two have to say?  Other than sorry for almost breaking your fingers, maybe.

But Jason didn’t say that, he just cleared his throat and looked at you again.  “Listen, I’m gonna… head out,” he informed you, “do you maybe… have a shirt I can borrow?”

“Um, I’ll see what I can find,” you offered, walking out of the kitchen and ignoring the weight of Gareth’s bewildered stare as you followed him down the hallway again.

You slid out your drawer and flipped through the folded t-shirts, searching for something suitable that might even mildly fit him.

“I’m guessing you don’t wanna rock a Dead Kennedys tee?” you snorted.

“Is that some sort of political statement?” he wondered, frowning. 

“It’s a band,” you corrected.

“Oh, well— yeah, maybe no band shirts.  I’d rather not get asked too many questions,” he explained, rushing as he added at the end: “N-not that I’m, you know, embarrassed or anything.  I mean, it doesn’t have to be a secret, but we—”

“Hey,” you interrupted with a smile, looking at him, “it’s okay.  Nobody else has to know— I don’t wanna damage your reputation.”

“It’s not that,” he promised, “my reputation’s not doing so hot anyways.  I figure you’d be more ashamed to be seen with me.”

Yeah, that’s… accurate.

“Uh, sorry about coming out while your friend was there, by the way…” he trailed off, “I didn’t hear anyone come in.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you shrugged, “he’s… I’ll figure out what to say to him about it.  But other than that, I think what happened tonight is just for us.  Not out of shame— just… I don’t think anyone else would understand.”

He nodded, just as you found an old Hoosiers Baseball shirt stuffed in the back of the drawer and handed it to him.  He mumbled a thank you and put it on quickly, finding his varsity jacket on your floor and slipping it on again.

You followed him to the door, opening it for him as he left. 

“I guess I’ll see you at school,” he offered, hovering in your foyer for a moment.

“I mean, maybe not,” you shrugged, “we never see each other normally…”

“Right,” he nodded.

“Drive safe,” you offered, a little surprised when he reached up to rest a hand on your shoulder.

He kissed you on the cheek, and you froze and let him.  “You too,” he whispered, squeezing your arm before letting it go and stepping outside.  You shut the door behind him, sighing as you waited a moment, not wanting to turn around and see the look on Gareth’s face.  

You didn’t have to see it, though, because you could hear it in the way he said your name.  “Don’t,” you pleaded, spinning on your heel and storming into the kitchen.  Gareth’s eyes followed you as he twisted around on the chair, gaping in disbelief.

“Tell me it’s not what it looks like,” he begged.

“Okay, it’s not what it looks like,” you offered.

“‘Cause it can’t be, right?  You didn’t… you and Jason aren’t… it’s—” he stammered, stopping and starting a thousand new sentences.

“Is it that hard to believe?” you finally snapped at him, crossing your arms.  “Think I can’t pull a hot, popular guy or something?”

He didn’t even respond to that question.  “Jesus Christ!” Gareth yelped.  “We really are in the end of fucking days!  Eddie’s dating Chrissy Cunningham, you’re fucking Jason Carver— it’s madness!  Cats and dogs living together!”

“Shut up,” you frowned.

“I’m so sick of this,” he groaned, head falling into his hands, dirty-blonde hair flopping down limply as if it were just as defeated as him.  “I just want things to go back to normal, you know?  Eddie’s not coming to practice anymore, and we had to take a vote to decide if we should just break the band up, or still be a band but kick him out, or what— and his campaigns suck!  You noticed too, right?  He’s spending so much less time on them, he’s always with her—”

Or me.

“I hate it!” Gareth admitted, looking at you again.  “And honestly, you know, I think I could take it if I really thought he was happy.  But doesn’t he seem kind of miserable?”

You nodded softly.  “Yeah…”

“He doesn’t even seem like himself,” he added with a sigh.

“He’s not,” you stated plainly, making Gareth give you a confused look.  “Everything that happened… and I don’t know everything, maybe only he does… but he almost died.  So did Chrissy— technically, I think she did?  I don’t even know,” you groaned, shaking your head.  “The point is, it changed them.  I guess they want to be with each other because they want to be with someone who understands."

Sort of why Jason's here, actually.

"And clearly I don’t fucking understand— neither do you, neither does Jason.  But yeah, I wish they hadn’t left us all in the fucking dust," you concluded.

“Us?” Gareth repeated.  “No, you’re… something’s up with you, too.  For a while now.”

You sighed.

“And this—” he gestured towards the hallway and then the door, basically everywhere he’d seen Jason in your house— “is just part of it.”

“I know you don’t like him,” you mumbled.  “Honestly, I don’t either, but… it’s complicated.”

“Well, I didn’t think it was fucking simple,” he rolled his eyes.  “Are you… is this something I’m gonna have to get used to?  Like, is it gonna happen again— is he your boyfriend?!”

“Jesus!” you spat.  “No!  It’s not— I can’t explain it, okay?  Can we not talk about it?  I wasn’t exactly planning on telling you.  You wouldn’t know if you didn’t just show up at my house whenever you want.”

“Should I stop doing that?” he asked.

“I mean, if you wanna lower your odds of interrupting another guy’s walk of shame…”

Gareth let out a long breath, resting his chin on his fist, and you watched the anger and confusion on his face start to fade— and there was just a solemness left.  You recognized it quickly because you were so familiar with it on yourself.  “Everything’s different now,” he said quietly.  “I fucking hate it.”

“Me too,” you nodded.  “I mean— that’s part of life, though.  Things were gonna change soon, anyways, don’t you think?  If Eddie finally graduated.”

“I figured he didn’t graduate because he wanted things to say the same,” Gareth theorized, and the insight— as well as how obvious it seemed now that he said it— from only a junior caught you off guard.

“Things were always gonna change,” you offered half-heartedly.  “It couldn’t stay how it was forever.”

“But wouldn’t that have been nice?” he raised an eyebrow.  “Well— I guess things were never great for you.”

“What does that mean?” you pressed.

“You know, just— with Eddie…” he trailed off.

You felt a little nauseous.  “What about Eddie?”

“You and him… you know…” Gareth continued.

“Did you… know about that?” you asked softly, raising an eyebrow.  Didn’t seem like Eddie to kiss and tell— he always swore he never told anyone about you two—

“It’s hard not to know how you feel about him,” he finally replied.  “And I always wanted you two to get together— I mean, it would just make sense, you and him.  It was hard to watch you look at him that way sometimes…”

Okay, so apparently this kid was seeing a lot more than he let on— but apparently he hadn’t quite figured out about your and Eddie’s little affair of nearly a year.  But even he could see that what you had for Eddie was completely unrequited, and that stung.  You sometimes imagined that part was just in your head…

Gareth shook his head, as if shaking the thought out of his mind, and hopped up off the chair.  “Whatever,” he decided.  “Wanna ride together?”

“No, I should… I could use the alone time,” you explained.

Gareth raised his hands as he shrugged a bit, turning around and walking towards the door.  “See you there!”

“Not if I see you first,” you called back, staring blankly at your half-eaten breakfast as you heard the front door open and shut.

~

It was an unusually quiet day— aside from a quick conversation with Jeff and Dustin in the hallway between third and fourth period, you didn’t talk to anyone you knew.  You saw Jason walk by, wearing your old t-shirt… but he didn’t see you, or pretended not to.  Not that you were planning on waving or anything.

You had been sort of dreading lunch, because you couldn’t keep avoiding Eddie at that point; you considered eating outside, but that would be even worse.  Maybe, when you did see him, he’d notice that you’d been avoiding him all morning and ask about it.  Or maybe he wouldn’t have noticed at all because he was too busy locking lips with Miss Perfect.

Instead, before lunch, he found you.  He said nothing as he dragged you in the Hellfire room, spinning on his heel to glare at you as the door slammed shut.

"You… you," he said with narrowing eyes.

"...What?" you waited.

"Jason?!" he shouted, and you deflated.  "Jason Carver— him?"

"I guess Gareth told you," you sighed.

"He tried, but I didn't even believe him, nearly gave him a black eye for saying something so sick about you," Eddie hissed.  "I had to find Jason to figure out it was true."

"You talked to Jason?!" you realized.

"I didn't have to— he used your fucking shampoo, didn't he?  The morning after?  He smells like you," he groaned.  "Made me fucking sick."

You bit your lip, not sure what to say to that, struggling to keep your cool with him this livid.  You'd never seen him angry like this, ever.

“And the Hoosiers shirt?” Eddie scoffed.  “Nice touch.  Did you tell him I used that as a fucking cum rag?”

You kept your mouth shut, rage bubbling up in your gut as you started to pick at your nails nervously.  No, Eddie, you used me as a cum rag— and I learned my lesson.

“How could you fucking— god, I can’t even say it!” he choked.  “How could you sleep with him?  Let him stay over, even!  After he had the whole fucking town after me?  After how he treated Chrissy?!”

“Oh god, Chrissy,” you rolled your eyes, “won’t somebody think of poor fucking Chrissy?  Because what kind of freak would ever do anything to hurt her?”

He winced.  “You don’t have to worry about that anymore— you and I are over.  For good this time.”

“Over?” you repeated.  “Eddie, we never even fucking started.”

“Really?” he scoffed.  “So when we were fucking almost every night for nearly a year— what was that?”

“That was you being horny and me being stupid,” you explained.  “That was the worst mistake I ever made.”

“Yeah?  Agreed,” he sneered.  “I can’t even look at you now.”

“Good!” you shouted.  “Now you know how I feel!”

“You can’t look at me?  What the fuck did I do?”

“I can’t look at myself!” you corrected.  “You know how much I hate myself for being like this?  For fucking Jason, for being your other woman, for being a fucking loser?  For not being able to help you, for not being there when you almost died?”

That made him stop, looking at you differently.  “What are you talking about?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“Everything that happened to you,” you sighed, “Dustin tried to explain it— but I still don’t really know.  And you never told me.  But I wish I was there for you… I wish you’d told me what was going on, what really happened to Chrissy— I would’ve helped you more.  I would’ve done everything I could, do you believe me?”

He didn’t say anything, just blinking at you.  You wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Go!” you demanded.  “Just fucking leave, Eddie, please.”

“No,” he decided, stepping closer.  “No— I’m not leaving you again.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, trying to push him back, but he stepped up to you again and grabbed your arms.

“He wasn’t lying, was he?” Eddie realized, staring intently at your face.  “Do you love me?  I mean, really.”

You swallowed thickly; fucking Gareth.  Apparently he hadn’t just told Eddie about Jason…

“Just say it, if you do.  Please,” he insisted.

“I can’t,” you breathed, “come on, Eddie, don’t make me—”

“Please!”

“Of course I do!” you yelped, finally getting him to let go of you as you jolted away.  “Okay?  Why can’t you just leave me alone, if you know?  I’m so, so tired of hurting, Eddie, I’m tired of giving you everything and getting what you can spare— I’m fucking tired!”

“Me too,” he promised, “I’m so— god, I can’t believe I let it happen like this.  I waited so long for you to tell me you love me and it’s all fucking wrong.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head down but looking up at him anyways as he covered his face with his hands for a second.

“It should be us— it should’ve always been us!” he announced suddenly, throwing his arms out wide in frustration.  “I always felt that way, but you never… I thought we were just friends, you know?  That you didn’t want more.”

Your gut twisted.  You were still worried this was all some terrible joke, but deep down, you knew it wasn’t.  “More?  Eddie, more is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I— I figured I wasn’t boyfriend material,” he explained.  “And then there was Chrissy— she seemed to think I was worth it, so I went for it, and now she can’t fucking stand me.”

“Did she say that to you?”

“Does she have to?” he shot back, and you sighed.  “Writing’s on the fucking wall, don’t you think?  She’s tired of dating a loser— a dropout, somebody who’s never gonna be anybody.  And I realized that was why I always thought I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Never gonna be anybody?” you repeated, shocked.

“What, you think I will?” he scoffed.  “With what, the band?  What are the odds of that?”

“No, Eddie,” you stepped closer, “you already are somebody.  To me, I mean.”

“Chrissy says I need to make something of my life,” he breathed, and you reached up to tentatively touch his face.

“You’re my life,” you admitted.

He reached up and held your hand, squeezing it, shutting his eyes tight as he turned his face to kiss your palm.  "I love you," he sighed, "I love you— I'm sorry I didn't tell you.  I was… I tried so hard to forget.  But even with her, I couldn't let you go.  I can't be away from you."

"I thought you were just with me because… since she wouldn't…" you trailed off.

"I lied," he blurted out, "it wasn't her that kept us from going further— it was me.  I just didn't feel right about it.  And I wouldn't admit to myself why."

When you looked down, you saw his scuffed up Reeboks stepping closer to you still, even with him already so close; when you looked up again, he was right there.

"It's not too late for us, is it?  I didn't ruin everything?" he asked in a quiet, hopeful voice.

You smiled a little.  "It's never too late for us, Eddie.  I think I was gonna wait for you until the very last second."

He kissed you, and it was different.  It wasn't like when he pulled you into him after you stepped into his trailer, it wasn't like when you got stoned in his van and started messing around— all those were like transitional kisses.  They were just where you started before it went further.  But not this— this wasn't a beginning kiss, it was a concluding kiss.  This wasn't a what's next? kiss, it was a this is it kiss.

Because this is it; this is all that matters, that you and him are together, like you always have been— and always should’ve been.

He held your face and pulled back all too soon, looking at you with those big, soft eyes starting to water.

"Please, tell Chrissy," you begged.  "I'm not her biggest fan or anything, but I can't do this to her anymore—"

"She already knows.  I told her, last night."

You froze.  "What?"

"I think she knew— she's really smart, you know,” he mumbled, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

"So, what?  Are you guys over then?"

He exhaled through pursed lips.  "I mean, we haven't said it, but, yeah."

"Then say it.  Talk to her about it,” you insisted.  “Because really, Eddie, you two don't need to love each other but you don't need to hate each other, either.  You went through something nobody else understands— that brings people together, people you'd never expect.  I mean, you're friends with Steve Harrington and I slept with Jason, so…"

He looked away from you for a moment.  "Yeah…"

"I want you guys to be friends, if you still can after everything…"

"I said the same thing to her, actually.”

You cleared your throat quietly.  “And I hope you can still… I hope you can forgive me for what happened with Jason—”

“I guess I really don’t have any right to be jealous, do I?” he tilted his head for a second.  “But still— god, imagining you with him… drove me fuckin’ crazy.”

“I noticed.  It’s why I’m late to Spanish.”

He sighed.  “We can… we’ll talk more later.  Maybe I can come over tonight?  A-after I see Chrissy, I mean.”

“Just call me when you’re coming over,” you nodded.

He gave you another kiss before he left, with his eyes shut tight and his hands still on your cheeks.  “I love you,” he whispered, when he pulled back— his face still an inch from yours, his eyes still shut.  “I’ve loved you for so long…”

This feeling, it was almost like heartbreak, shockingly similar in fact; but it was the polar opposite, it was all the abandoned broken pieces coming together, mending one edge at a time.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he promised.  “Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded.  He hesitated for a second before he left, and you stayed in that empty room for far too long even though you were already massively late.

For a while now, you’d been telling yourself not to get your hopes up— not to imagine that Eddie could feel the same way you do.  It was fear, undeniably; cowardice, even.  Maybe if you had thought to just ask, none of this would’ve ever happened.  He could’ve been your boyfriend from the first night you two decided to hook up— back then he told you that he wanted to stay friends no matter what.  It seemed obvious now that he meant that he wanted your relationship to stay strong, and not necessarily that he didn’t want to date… but insecurity had blinded you.  And you almost thought it was too late.

Still, you didn’t want to get your hopes up too high, you didn’t want to believe that this was really happening.  Just in case you woke up and it was all a dream.  Just in case he changed his mind and decided he couldn’t love you like that.  Just in case the world ended tonight and you never got a chance to be together like you’d dreamed.

Yet, you couldn’t keep a small smile off your face for the rest of the day.

~

You waited for him for hours, watching the clock, watching the phone— you had the TV on in hopes of distracting yourself from trying to imagine how it was going with Eddie and Chrissy now.  For all you knew they were making up and deciding to run away together or something…

11:54.  Chewing your nails, you blinked at the clock; it wasn’t even that late yet, but it felt like he should be here by now.  You wanted him here so badly…

Within a few minutes, the TV had become useless as the broadcast had ended with the national anthem before fading to static.  You hadn’t turned it off yet, though— it was the only light in your living room now, and the only sound.  Not a particularly soothing sound, but there wasn’t much else to do.  

12:19.  You stood up instinctively when the door opened, and from where you were in the living room, you had a clear view of Eddie standing there, shutting the door behind him, staring at you.  “Sorry,” he blurted out, “I forgot to call.”

“How’d it go?” you asked.

“It was hard,” he swallowed, “but it went okay— we cried a lot.  She hugged me… I kinda thought she was gonna hit me, so that was a relief.  I think we both knew things hadn’t been right for a while…”

Your heart was racing, for some reason, as he walked up to you; he reached up and brushed his fingers over your face for a second, before wrapping his hands around the back of your neck comfortingly.

“Things are only right when we’re together,” he added.  

You nodded in agreement, eyes falling shut as he leaned in closer, feeling his lips press to yours a moment later.  You melted into it, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.  His hands moved down to hold your back and waist, keeping you upright and pressed to him as your knees went weak.  He’d kissed you a thousand times but he’d never kissed you like this; you felt your eyes watering and warm tears running down your cheeks as he pulled you even closer.

“I love you,” he whispered again.

“I love you too,” you replied quickly, sniffling as he pulled back and wiped your tears away.

“Happy tears, right?” he smiled.

“Yeah,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as he kissed the height of your temple where a new tear was falling.

“Don’t ever wanna make you cry again,” he breathed.  “This is gonna be the last time, okay?”

You nodded again.

"Let me show you how it should've been," he pleaded softly.  "Let me show you what I've really been dreaming of."

"What's that?" you pressed.

"Making love to you," he replied.  "Making you my girl.  No more quickies, no more meaningless fucking with you leaving after— I should've never let you leave."

One more time, you nodded; and he kissed you again, the two of you moving slowly backward towards the bedroom.  He fumbled to open the door behind your hips, but he knew this room like the back of his hand: he pulled you with him onto the bed, rolling to pin you under him as he pushed his arms up and hovered over you.

“Please tell me you’ve changed the sheets since Jason was here,” he sighed, and you bit your lip to suppress your smile.

“Um…”

“Y’know what?  Doesn’t matter,” he decided.  “It’s better, even— I’ll give it to you so good that you and your sheets are gonna forget he was ever here.”

You were laughing as he kissed down to your neck, pressing his body against yours.  Usually this is when you’d start hurriedly kicking off your shoes, the two of you separating to strip just so you could come back together and get this show on the road.

But this time was different— he helped you undress carefully, admiring every new inch of skin he exposed.  He made your skin erupt in goosebumps, tickling you gently with his fingertips and lips, but then he soothed you and warmed you up with palms spread wide and running all over you.  “So fucking beautiful,” he purred, “and all mine, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

You did your best to return the favor of helping when he started to undress, but he had already figured out how to take his own shirt off so really you were just running your fingers up his torso.  Your hands started just above his belt and your fingers spread out as you moved them higher and higher, parting the light dusting of hair as you reached his upper chest, tracing the shape of his tattoos— including your favorite, the one you’d designed for him.

He grinned at you proudly, glancing down as he tossed his shirt away.  His hands moved down past yours to work on his belt next, the handcuff buckle clinking as you watched intently and weaved your legs in between his that knelt on the bed.  “So pretty,” you cooed.

“I don’t know about that,” he defended, smiling a bit.

“Yeah, my pretty Eddie,” you insisted, and he laughed softly.

He descended to hover over you again, his bent arm sinking into the squishy mattress by your head as his hand played with the hair at the top of your head a bit.  “My pretty girl,” he returned.

His free hand was pushing his unbuttoned jeans and boxers down, but he had to sit back up to kick them off completely— apparently this wasn’t the kind of sex you can have with your jeans around your thighs.

Actually, you couldn’t think of the last time you and Eddie were completely nude together like this.  Usually he’d just hike your shirt up high enough and let his pants dangle at his knees or ankles; once he even just took it out through an unzipped fly, yanked your jeans down a bit and had his way with you, but that was because you were in the Hellfire room and had to make it quick.

As fun as all that was, it felt like ages ago— it felt like another life, or even a dream.  This felt so real, almost too real, it made you shiver under him as he pressed his bare skin against yours with a hum.

“You cold?” he asked quietly.

“N-no,” you replied, teeth chattering, “it’s just… I can’t explain it.”

“You don’t have to, okay?” he promised.  “You don’t need to say anything… just look at me, okay?  Don’t close your eyes.  Keep looking at me.”

It was too much, looking right into his eyes like this— brown and stormy and warm— like he was staring right into your brain, watching all your thoughts swirl around.  Wouldn’t’ve been too interesting to watch, though, since your only thoughts were of him— like looking into a mirror.

He slowly pushed his hips forward, watching closely as your mouth fell open with a sigh; you felt every detail, every ridge and vein of his cock as he split you open on it, and your legs fell open even wider as your hands clutched at his shoulders.  He shuddered slightly, a shaky breath falling from his lips, as his hips pressed up to you and he was fully seated inside your warmth.

“Eddie,” you whispered to him.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Nothing, I just wanted to say it…”

He smiled and kissed you softly, whispering your name back to you a few times— and each time, your insides held him a little tighter, overwhelmed by not just the sound of your name in his voice but the way he said it.  Of course, you’d heard him say your name plenty over the past few years, occasionally in the throes of passion— but there was a reverence to this, a… worshipfulness, maybe.

He started to move carefully, pushing a bit deeper each time as you moaned lowly and wrapped your legs around his hips to keep him from pulling out too far.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he admitted, voice breaking slightly as he kept his eyes trained on you.  “You feel that?  How wet you are for me?  Fucking perfect.”

You whimpered and bit your lip, eyes falling shut, but his hand squeezed your thigh.

“No, baby, eyes on me,” he reminded you, “y’gotta keep looking at me, please— please, darling?”

That pet name was enough to get you to open your eyes again, even though you felt like you were burning up under the heat of his stare— god, it was really too much, but it was exactly what you needed.  You moaned a little louder, and his hand on your hips moved them to just the right angle, lifting you up so his cock hit just a bit deeper.  But wow, what just that little bit could do; you broke eye contact only because you had to, your eyes were literally rolling back.  “God, Eddie, s-so fucking deep…”

“I know,” he breathed, “I know— but you can take it, right?”

You nodded eagerly.

“This is how you want it?” he presumed.  “Tell me— you can tell me what you want, and I’ll do it, I’ll do anything.”

“This,” you promised, “just like this— don’t stop, please…”

“I won’t,” he replied, “just— god, baby— tell me you’re mine, one more time.”

You only hesitated because you were so caught up in the feeling, in digging the heels of your feet into his ass to keep this delicious feeling of fullness from ever ending.  You didn’t mean to get him so worked up that he’d start begging.

"Say it, come on," he demanded, "say you're mine."

"Yours, yours," you promised quickly.

"M'yours too, baby," he sighed, "always was, I swear— just us, baby, please, just gotta be you and me now."

You nodded.

“You and me,” he repeated again, breathless, leaning in to mouth along your exposed neck from your head falling back in pleasure.  “Us.  Way it oughta be.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling that familiar weight sinking in your gut— fuck, you were way too close, it was embarrassing.  Except that it wasn’t, because you didn’t feel self-conscious with him anymore, if anything you were excited to fall apart for him this time.

He didn’t even have to ask if you were reaching your peak, which he normally did— normally he’d be teasing you a little, taunting you, encouraging you to go ahead and let go or maybe tell you to hang on until he told you it was time.  Instead he just watched you, breathing heavy and feeling the rhythmic pulses of your body around his.  “So good,” he praised when the last wave had washed over you and you went limp beneath him, “so good for me— my beautiful girl, all mine, mine—”

“Yes,” you whimpered, choking on a sob, holding onto his back as he fucked you faster.  “God, I didn’t— fuck, wasn’t supposed to come that fast.”

He laughed a little— in a sweet way, not mocking or derisive— and gave you a soft kiss.  “It’s okay, baby, as long as you can do it again.”

You nodded quickly.  “Yeah, fuck yeah— just don’t stop…”

Thankfully, the next one took you a bit longer— but still, your stamina was weak with him filling you so wide and deep, stretching you out and whispering soft praises to you all the while.  “That’s it, that’s it,” he spoke under his breath, “so beautiful when you come for me, can you open your eyes again?  Wanna see you, wanna see my girl, please…”

Your eyes were so heavy halfway through your second orgasm, but you managed to get them open for him, finding his face even closer to yours than you remembered.  He moaned at the sight, fingers digging a little deeper into your skin and chest pressing against yours.

He watched your last moan jump from your lips as the bright-white heat of your ecstasy burned out into a dull warmth, a soothing sensation that made you sigh and relax again.  “Feels so goddamn good when you do that,” he whined, “fuck, I— baby…”

You could tell he was close, finally— you could feel his cock starting to flex, pressing against your walls while he fucked you a little faster.  “Want it so bad, Eddie,” you whimpered, “want it inside.”

“Fuck,” he gasped, “whatever you want, sweetheart, s’all yours, m’yours, I promise— god, I love you so much—”

“I love you,” you moaned your reply, feeling him pick up the pace again, though it was still slower than he usually fucked you even in the beginning.  You didn’t even know he could come while moving this slow— well, you hadn’t known you could come from this, either.  It was overall a learning experience for everyone.

He pulled you closer, he kissed you hard, and you felt everything just… melt.  His movements stopped and you thought you could just sink into the bed and stay forever in this warm, soft, slow feeling.  It did last for a few minutes, the two of you just breathing together, before he eventually rolled off of you and pulled you to cuddle up into his side.  “I wasn’t supposed to come that fast either,” he announced quietly with a little smirk.

“Oh come on,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m more than satisfied.”

“Oh, I know,” he clicked his tongue, “but I’m not.  That was just round one.”

“Of how many?!” you were forced to wonder.

“Mm,” Eddie considered that as he lifted his wrist— but he’d already taken his watch off.  “We’ll see.”

You laughed as he pulled you closer and buried his face in your neck again, his hair getting all over your face and in your mouth as you spluttered to try to spit it out.  “Eddie!” you whined, trying to wriggle out of his embrace.

“Nope, not letting you go,” he promised, holding you tighter.

“Your hair’s in my mouth!” you complained.

“Get used to it,” he purred.  “I mean it, babe— not letting you go again.  Ever.”

You laughed as you wrapped your arms around his thick torso, submitting to your fate.

“Ready for round two yet?” he asked suddenly, making your eyes go wide.

“Fuck, are you?!” you yelped.  “Hardly been a minute—”

“Oh, I’m ready,” he promised, and you whimpered as you felt his hard cock— still wet from his cum and your own— slide against your inner thigh.  “Can you take me again, darling?”

“O-of course,” you answered quickly.

He hummed proudly as he laid you on your back again.  “Fuck, so good for me, always ready, huh?  You still want more?”You nodded, still numb and tingly all over— still sore, even.  But you wanted it, so fucking bad.  “More is all I’ve ever wanted.”

I Was Made For Lovin' You

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

song inspo: I was made for lovin' you by kiss

main masterlist // nsfw masterlist

word count: 3.4k

summary: Eddie believes you're a "quiet miss goody-two-shoes". You're going to prove him wrong.

warnings: SMUT (18+), minors DNI!, both eddie and reader are 18+, fingering (feat. ring kink), oral (m), sub/dom dynamics, PIV, unprotected sex (pls be safe irl), cowgirl to missionary, dirty talk, praise kink, biting kink/leaving hickeys, creampie, language, mutual pining, fluff, eddie being sweet, tattoo tracing, way too many fucking italics and semi colons, it ends real sweet tho

A/N: This is a part two to I wanna be with you but I wrote it so it could be read as a standalone. Also, I’ve never written a smut oneshot, so this was definitely a challenge, but I tried my best. :)

It's silent between the two of you on the drive back to Eddie's place. He has the radio tuned to the local rock station, and you can hear Metallica's Master of Puppets playing through the speakers. You were bopping your head, drumming your fingers, and silently singing along to the song. Eddie could hear you and would turn to look at you during stop lights. He couldn't fucking believe that you, quiet miss goody two shoes, were in his van and heading back to his place. He thought he was losing his mind but in the best way possible.  

It wasn't much longer 'til he pulled up to his trailer. As soon as he parked, he turned the car off and got the keys out of the ignition. Then, hopping out of his van, he makes his way to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you step out. Eddie led the way to his door, unlocking it and stepping off to the side to allow you to get in first before closing the door behind you.   

He kicks off his Reeboks and leaves them by the door as he explains, "Sorry for the mess, uh, the maid took the week off."  

You mimic his actions while asking, "You live here alone?"   

He shakes his head and clarifies, "With my uncle. But, uh, he works nights at the plant. Bringing home the big bucks." 

Smirking up at him as you took in his words and realized, "Well, at least now I know there won't be any interruptions."  

You've been messing with Eddie's head since your first propositioned this whole thing to change his mind. He really did think you were a saint, though. He thought about you a lot his (second) senior year. He had the habit of watching you, just across the cafeteria or passing by in the hall or your shared English classroom. He tried his best to be subtle, and he was sure you never noticed him because every time he looked in your direction, you were looking anywhere but him. But from what he saw, you were introverted, sweet, smart. Everything about you pointed to being a quiet miss goody two shoes that guys wanted to bring home to meet their parents. And now, here you were, at ‘the freak’s’ trailer, looking entirely out of place.   

"Hey, you know, you don't have to do this. I'll understand if you were just messing around." A selfish part of him wishes you aren't. That you actually do want to be here with him. He started drumming his fingers against his thigh, a little nervous or bored habit he picked up. In this case, it was for the former reason.   

Your eyes went to look at his ring-clad fingers before bringing your gaze up to meet his. You didn't say anything yet, just quietly made your way over to him until you were standing toe to toe. You noticed his breath hitch at your proximity, and there was the start of a light pink blush dusting his cheeks. Your gaze flickered down to his lips before looking back up at him.  

"Can I kiss you?" as soon as the words left your mouth, his nod and whisper of a yes were all you needed before bringing your lips to his. Eddie leaned closer to you, gingerly placing his hands on your hips. You brought your hands up to his hair. God, how you had dreamed of running your fingers through his hair. It was just as soft as you imagined. Tugging on his hair, Eddie groaned in response and deepened the kiss. His tongue making its way past your now open lips; you always thought that he'd be a great kisser, but you never could've known it'd be this magical.   

You pull away a little bit, your hands making their way down, trying to take off that Dio jacket he wore all the time. He took his hands off your hips, and an involuntary whine came out that was soon replaced by a sigh as he fully took off his jacket, and you saw his forearms, his bat tattoos on display. You always wanted to get a closer look at his tattoos, wanted to see just how much ink covered his body and where.   

Before you knew it, he was back on you, kissing you with such fervor that you almost believed this must be his last day on Earth. Your hands slipped under his Hellfire shirt, feeling the warmth radiate off his skin. He was quick at work unbuttoning your blouse and untucking it from your skirt. As he slipped the shirt off your body, he pulled away and let out a groan at the sight of your breasts still contained in your bra.   

"Take it off," he begged, "please."  

You could never deny him when he pleaded with you, so you reached behind to unhook your bra as you watched him pull off his shirt. A moment of silent appreciation passed as you both took in the appearance of each other. You wished he had granted you more time to appreciate the tattoos that graced his chest, but Eddie had other plans.   

He leaned down towards you, hands on the back of your thighs and lips brushing against your ear as he whispered one word: jump.  

With your help, he wasted no time picking you up and leading you the short distance down the hall to his bedroom. He laid you down on your back, trailing kisses down your neck towards your chest. You could feel the sting of his teeth scraping and biting against the sensitive skin of your breast. He was marking you. The dizzying realization sent shivers down your spine and sighs parting from your lips.

The feeling clashes with a new one, the one of his hand trailing up your thigh. Rubbing circles on the soft flesh just below your aching cunt. His fingers start to make their way farther up until you can feel them brush against your swollen clit over your panties.   

"Can I?" He pleaded as he toyed with the seam.   

You nod, choking out the words, "Yes, please."  

Eddie hooks his fingers under the band as he slides your underwear down your legs before dropping it onto the floor nearby. You squirm under his set gaze on your bare pussy, feeling insecure under the full attention he's giving you. Unconsciously, your legs try to close, to shield yourself. Eddie places a hand on your knee, not using any force to open you up again.  

"You okay, sweetheart?" You can see the concern in his deep brown eyes. Those same eyes that just moments ago you felt insecure under. Why? There was such adoration in them that you couldn't imagine feeling anything but secure and safe around him. Without thinking much of it, you let your legs spread open in front of him. A breathy thank you left his lips as he started up his marking again.  

You gasped as you felt Eddie running a finger up and down your slit, teasing you. "Please, Eddie, I need you." You were desperate, whining at this point, waiting for him to give you any sort of relief. Finally, he surrendered to your begging as he slipped a finger inside your weeping cunt.   

"Jesus, darling, you're so wet— all this for me, huh?" All you could do was nod as your mind focused on the coolness of his ring against your skin as he pumped his finger in and out of you at a rhythmic pace. He soon started to stretch you out further, adding a second finger. You clasped your hand over your mouth, trying to stop some of your moans from spilling out. Eddie noticed, shaking his head at you and placing his free hand over yours.  

"C'mon baby, no one's here, just you and me." He started to guide your hand away from your mouth as he went on, "We can be as loud as we want." As those words fell from his mouth, he curled his fingers up, hitting that spot that drew you so close to your release. Once his thumb started rubbing circles on your clit, you were a goner. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders where you were gripping tightly, pulsating clenches on his fingers as your orgasm washed over you and crying out for him.   

You feel Eddie let his fingers slip out; they're glistening in the dim light, covered with your juices. You look up to see him holding your gaze as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean. Your whimper is soon swallowed by his mouth on yours, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. You use this as an opportunity to switch positions, having him lay down under you. Eddie starts to move his hands down to land on your hips once again, but you're off him before he can.   

He sits up at the edge of the bed now, cocking his head to the side in confusion. You lean down towards him, placing a short kiss on his lips before heading further south. You're trailing kisses down his neck, across the expanse of his chest, paying particular attention to the tattoos that litter his skin. As your lips leave kisses further south, you get down on your knees. You hear Eddie gasp above you as you place one last kiss over the bulge straining against his jeans.   

 Your fingers work deftly on his button and zipper, nudging him to lift his hips to help you get his pants off. He takes the opportunity to pull his boxers down along with his jeans. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock, aching and dripping with precum. The moment you wrap your hand around him, his head is tossed back, whimpers and moans tumbling out of his mouth. You wanted to taste him, to feel the weight of him against your tongue. Wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking, you nearly purred at the words of praise from him.  

"Please don't stop." He begged, "You feel so good—" Looking down at you, gazing up at him through your lashes, he can't stand it. Eddie feels like he's going insane. He can't fucking believe that here you are, on your knees, sucking his dick like you've done it a hundred times before.   

"Shit— you're really good at this." But he doesn't want to think it's because of practice. He'd burst at the seams with jealously at the idea of another man ever having been in this position before with you. So, he won't; instead, he's focused on the fact that he can feel a pleasant vibrating sensation whenever you moan with him in your mouth. All the more incentive to get you to make those pretty noises.  

"Oooh yes— just like that, keep going, darling." He's gripping the side of his bed so tight that his knuckles are turning ghostly white. He began gently thrusting into your throat just a few times before you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock. Eddie started to whine, saying he was so close.   

His protests soon died down at your request, "Scoot back and lie down." He followed your instruction without hesitation as you started taking off your skirt and made your way back to him. You're straddling him, a hand placed on his chest to steady yourself while the other reaches down to guide his cock right at your entrance.   

"Say you want me, and I'm yours." Eddie looked up at you with those pretty, big, brown eyes, already pleading with you with his gaze. He placed his hands on your hips, not forcing you down but preparing for your actions as he said what you were waiting for.  

"I need you, please— I'm begging you, darling." That was all you needed to hear before sinking down on him, slowly, inch by inch. You can't believe how full you feel; you've never felt like this with anyone before.   

"Good girl, fuck, you take me so well, like you were fucking made for me." And you believe it. You really believe that you must be made for each other because there's nothing else that can explain just how right it feels to finally have him inside you. Right now, you just want to take your time with him, slowly working your way up and down on him, focus on how he pulses inside you, on his praises.  

"Shit, that's my girl." My girl. You can feel yourself flutter and tighten around him just at the thought of being his girl.   

"Mhm— your girl, Eddie." At these words, he sits up, arms wrapped around your waist and flipping you both, your back now pressed against the mattress. He stills for a moment, cupping your face to look into your eyes. Then, running his thumb along your bottom lip before closing the gap between you two. You moan into his kiss, feeling him thrust, slow but firm.   

He pulls away from your kiss, placing his hands under your thighs to push them up towards your chest. You cry out as you feel this new depth, fuck, you didn't know he could get even deeper.   

"Love the sounds you make when I'm 'side you, sweetheart." You could say that same, that you arch and clench for him whenever you hear him. But you can't say anything, not when he's getting rougher, faster— pounding into you with a new force and determination. You can feel that familiar feeling building, that knot getting tighter at the base of your stomach.   

Eddie can sense it too, "That's it baby, I know, I know, c'mon, let go for me." He's all but begging you; he needs it, needs to feel you come on him. There's no way you can deny him or yourself that. That knot finally snaps, your eyes rolling back as you scream out over how intensely your orgasm is wracking through your body.   

"Jesus— You're so pretty when you come all over my cock." And he's still going, still pumping into your sensitive cunt with the same force. Your senses are so overwhelmed; it's like you can feel every single one of your nerve endings.   

"Fuck I'm close, christ, where do you want me?" You're so cock drunk you can't say anything; nothing at all. All you can do is wrap your legs tighter around him, trying your best to send the message that you need him to stay inside you; that's where you want him.   

"Shit shit shit— gonna fill you up, that's what you want, right? Wanna feel full of my cum?" You're nodding desperately as you start to babble nonsense that you want him, need him, everything he wants to give you, you'll take. And with one final deep stroke, your wishes are granted. Eddie holds himself over you as he empties himself inside you, milking him for all he's worth, you feel every drop of him, and you're addicted. Addicted? Can you be addicted after only one time?   

With Eddie Munson? Absolutely.  

You're brought out of your trance as you feel him maneuver to lay down beside you. You turn to look at each other and are met with a dazed, lovestruck smile on his face. You can only assume you look the same way to him.   

"Told ya." Those are the only words you can think of in this hazy moment.  

Eddie's smile falters a bit, and his brow furrows, "What?"  

"Told ya I wasn't a saint." You assume the grin on your face has taken on a cocky demeanor at your statement.  

He laughs, almost in disbelief, "Please tell me you didn't sleep with me just to prove a point."  

You're taken aback, a faux offended gasp leaving your lips, "Of course not! I've wanted this for a while; proving myself right was just a bonus." And it was a great bonus. You loved being right, especially when it proved others wrong.   

Eddie didn't mind much, simply focusing on one part of your response, "A while, huh?" His raised brow had such a smug air to it that you couldn't help but lightly smack him on his chest.  

"Oh, hush!" You left your hand on his chest, placed right over one of his tattoos. So, to avoid being teased further, you moved your attention to the ink on his skin. You began lightly tracing it but soon noticed Eddie squirming under your touch.   

"Are you ticklish?" Your eyes widened at the possibility, already planning on how you could use this to your advantage in the future.  

He nodded, adding, "Just a bit, but I'll hold it off just for you." Sending you a sweet, dimpled smile, like he was doing you the biggest favor in the world.   

You shook your head and laughed, "You're such a dork." Eddie shrugged and just accepted the title. At least it was better than 'freak.'   

After some more mindless tracing, you notice the handcuffs hanging on his wall; nodding towards them, you ask, "Maybe we can use those next time." It was a test of sorts, trying to get a feel for how he'd react to the possibility of this becoming a recurrent thing.  

"Next time? There's gonna be a next time?" His smile soon morphed into a smirk.  

"Well, only if you want to." The ball was now back in his court; up to him to make up his mind about the two of you.   

"Fuck yeah, I do! I've waited so long for this; I'm not gonna let you go now. I can't get enough of you." Of course, that's not entirely the answer you expected, but you gladly took it.  

"Waited so long? Jesus, Eddie, did we like each other this whole time? Are you trying to tell me I had a chance with you a year ago?" There's no way. You spent the entirety of your senior year pining over him. If there was even a chance that something could've happened, you feel like you'd create a time machine just to go back and smack some sense into past you to get the nerve to make a fucking move on him.   

Eddie's eyes widen in shock, "A chance with me? I didn't even know you knew I existed 'til a few hours ago!" Now he couldn't believe it. That entire past year, he was sure that you had no clue who he was. And now? Now he's finding out that you liked him for a year? If he had just talked to you at least once, you two could've already been together.  

You groan out, exasperated, "We're idiots!" He snorts at this because you're right. You two were idiots in love.   

"Well, at least I'm your idiot." His gaze steady on your face, testing his luck with you, "Hopefully."  

You're beaming at him, basking in the meaning of his words, "Wouldn't have it any other way."  

You take this newfound confirmation and comfort to cuddle into him more, sighing against him, "I like being close to you. You're warm." And he was. So warm and soft and comfortable, everything about him felt like home.   

He smiled down at you, "You too, darling, could have you in my arms all night."   

He started to pull you in closer, but you glanced up at him and asked, "You want me to stay all night?"  

He looks at you, baffled, "Did you think I'd kick you out or something?"  

You feel yourself heat up a bit in embarrassment, "Well, no... but I don't know how you're gonna explain this to your uncle when he gets home."  

His smile made his whole face glow as he said, "Easy, my girlfriend spent the night; he'll understand."  

You couldn't fight the smile that mimicked his own at the fact that he now called you his girlfriend. With the knowledge that you could stay here with him, you started to relax more into him, closing your eyes and awaiting the peaceful bliss of sleep in his arms. You were just starting to drift off when:  

"Shit! — I should probably do some aftercare, right?"  

You can't help but laugh. 

  ~~~

Taglist: @ofstarsandvibranium​ // @bubblebuckys​ // @manicflavoredjuulpod​ // @crystalized-drumming​ // @mraisedto3​ // @missfranklinstein​ // @spectorbear​ // @heraclesmaximoff // @auroralwriting // @jxlb // @strictlyliberty // @bonkyboinkybucky​ //

Tagged some mutuals, people who read part one, and my perm taglist

add yourself to my taglist (or send me an ask)

eddie playlist

feeling very whore-ish at the moment

did we ever get a follow up on that night with bob? the 7th date one where he ate us out twice? pls my brain is short circuiting i need to know if we get to fuck him💔

Not only did we fuck him, we also learned another surprising thing about Bob: he has a raging size kink. Aka Full of Surprises Part 2: Electric Bugaloo

Warning: fem reader,  language, unprotected sex, Bob has a huge dick, Bob is also a sweet precious bean, size kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, creampie, slight dacryphilia (depends on how you look at it) just wrote 3.8K of porn, don't look at me

Being with Bob Floyd was the closest thing to euphoria.

When you were with him, you felt at ease and as light as a feather.

All he had to do was look at you with that sweet lopsided grin and joy would pulse through your veins.

It was why you didn’t mind pausing as you two both recovered from your previous activities and just laid in bed, kissing one another before continuing. 

“I love kissing you,” Bob whispered before pressing another kiss to your cheek, then the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. 

A giggle escaped as you weaved your hands into his hair, fingers gently grasping at the now soft, ungelled curls, “Could have been doing it a lot sooner." 

"I know," Bob groaned, shaking his head, "I wanted to, like really bad. But I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." 

Of course he didn’t. Even after making you fall apart on his mouth twice, make sure you were at ease was still at the forefront of Bob’s mind. 

"Well," your fingers traced the soft skin of his broad shoulders, "I think it's safe to say we are now very comfortable with each other." 

He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips. How was this man real? More importantly, how was he in your bed? 

That was something to figure out later. Right now, you were too busy soaking in the sensation of his body on top of yours, lips attached to your neck, and what just brushed against your thigh? 

Your hunch was confirmed when he rolled his hips against yours again. 

It shouldn't have been a surprise. Out of all the things you learned tonight about Bob, this one shouldn't have come as a shock.

He wasn't short, far from it. You barely came up to his chin. When he cupped your face, his thumbs would rest comfortably along your jawline while the rest of his hands covered your whole neck. He was able to lift you up like it was nothing, for crying out loud. 

So out of all the things you learned about Robert Floyd tonight, the fact he was well-endowed shouldn't be a surprise.

And yet, here you were, mouth open and eyes wide as saucers when you saw just the tip of his cock peeking out from his boxers, resting against one of his pale thighs. 

That was just the tip?

Was it even going to fit?

"You okay?" His voice was full of concern. His cerulean eyes never left your face. 

"I um….y-you're big." You mentally kicked yourself as soon as the words came out of your mouth. 

A hand flew up to the back of his neck, rubbing the warm skin, "Uh yeah I…that's why I wanted to get you used to my fingers. We um, we don't have to-" 

"No! I mean, that was a 'no' to the idea of us not doing something. Sorry it's," you sighed, bringing a pillow to cover your face, "it's been a while and I've forgotten what's proper etiquette but I know exclaiming that you have a big dick isn't it." 

Bob couldn't help but chuckle, though there was no malicious intent behind it. Usually he was the one rambling and getting flustered. As nice as it was that the tables had turned for once, he didn't like that you were hiding. 

"Don't hide that beautiful face from me, darlin'," it wasn't meant to be a command. But the way his voice was low and raspy made your thighs clench. 

He gently pulled the pillow away, revealing your flustered face. There wasn’t any hint of ego on his face (despite having a very big reason to). Instead his face was sweet, a soft smile adorning his handsome face. 

"I'm sorry," you blurted out. 

Bob shrugged, "For what? I mean, it's kinda….well, hard to miss. Can't exactly hide it, y'know." 

You giggled, instantly feeling more relaxed, "Do you normally talk about your dick size in bed or should I feel very special?" 

"You should feel special," Bob's hands cupped the sides of your face, bringing your lips to his for a brief moment, "because you're absolutely incredible." 

His lips trailed away from yours, moving down to your neck, past your collarbone, until they reached your chest. Your back arched as his mouth took one of your nipples, his teeth gently grazing against the sensitive skin. 

"R-Robby," you gasped when his fingers traced your entrance. 

The way you moaned his name was addicting. Bob had to stop his hips from rolling against the bed, knowing now just how easily he could come from watching you fall apart on his fingers. 

Instead, he watches, memorized by how your cunt stretches to accommodate his thick fingers. His cock twitched at the thought of how it would feel, desperate to have a turn. 

He knows you like him, and he's ninety-five percent positive you're the one for him. Which is why he doesn't want to rush things. 

A groan escapes your lips, your hips buckling up to meet his fingers, despite shaking your head, "I'm-I'm gonna come if you keep doing that." 

Bob chuckled, leaning over so that his face was mere inches away from yours, fallen dark blonde locks tickling your forehead. 

"Ya say that like it's a bad thing, darlin'." Prior to tonight, you had never seen that smirk on his face. It was the closest to cocky that Bob had been and you really shouldn't find it fucking hot but here you were. 

"W-wanna come on your cock," you whined. It wasn’t that you didn’t like his fingers, you loved them inside of you. But now that you knew, you were desperate to know how his cock felt. 

His blue eyes widened as his hand stilled its movements. Bob opened his mouth as if to speak, and then promptly closed it, your words replaying over and over in his brain. 

Fuck. 

Once his brain came back online after short-circuiting, Bob found himself quickly removing his boxers, tossing the undergarment somewhere on the floor of your bedroom. He could pick it up afterwards. 

A joke about being eager was on the tip of your tongue. Though it died as soon as Bob wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and placing you on his lap. 

For someone lean and lanky, he was deceptively strong. 

Any and all thoughts left your brain when his cock slid through your slicked folds. Bob couldn't help but smirk; the person who sought him out, who asked him out, now a moaning mess from just feeling his cock against you. If he had more stamina, he would continue; brush his hardened cock against your clit, drawing out high-strung moans until you made a mess with your own cum. 

Another time. 

It felt exhilarating, knowing there would be more times in the future. You didn't even flinch when he laid you back down on the bed, a pillow now flushed against your hips. You raised an eyebrow, confused by the action. 

“It um…it helps with….y’know.” 

Bob was going to do this right. 

"Please tell me you have lube." It took a few seconds to process his words, as you were too busy registering the fact he was able to manhandle your body without a second thought. 

"Why would we-" 

"We're gonna need it. Makes it easier." The fact he said it with zero doubt, because he knew it was true and he wanted you comfortable, made your head spin. You were used to guys either treating you like a rag doll or as if you were made out of glass. 

But Bob Floyd treated you like you were made of starlight. One that was capable of thoughts, one that deserved having things explained, not to downplay your intelligence, but because you deserve to know. 

It was subtle and the worst part was that he probably didn't think anything of it. To Bob, this was how he would treat anyone he cared about.

But to you, it meant everything. So much that it made your heart swell. 

Meanwhile, Bob was frozen because while he definitely heard you say that you had lube in the top drawer of your dresser, his mind was on another thing that happened to be in his wallet, which was now somewhere on your bedroom floor. 

"I uh-I have a condom in my wallet. Not that I usually carry one around. I mean, obviously I do but like, I didn’t like, actively go out, buy one, and put it in my wallet. One of my buddies gave it to me as a joke and I figured y'know, it's good to have in case I or anyone else needs it. Not that I expect to, you know, it's just it's good to always be prepared just uh just in case. I was a boy scout and they always emphasize that part, being prepared. They didn’t relate it to having sex safely, the context for them was more about carrying a first aid kit and I really should stop talking about that and check if the condom hasn’t expired-"

"God, you're so fucking cute," you sat up, hands reaching out to grab his broad shoulders, crashing your lips onto his in a bruising kiss. 

"T-thanks," Bob mumbled, glad you found his rambling endearing, as well as that you cut him off before he began talking about his Eagle Scout project. 

"I have an IUD. I also wasn't planning on being with anyone besides you." Bob's eyes widened, but instead of regret or fear (the emotions you were used to receiving), there was joy? 

"R-really? Because I feel the exact same way but didn't want to assume anything or-" 

"Have I not made it obvious that I'm crazy about ya Robby?" 

A rosy tint dusted his cheeks as he looked down, "Didn't want to assume." 

"Well, you don't have to assume," you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his, "I like you a lot. So quit assuming I don't." 

“So it….wouldn’t be wrong of me to assume that like, we’re going steady? Like officially-”

“I want you to be my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking Robby.” You could feel the smile he had as he kissed you

He gently squeezed your hands, smiling at the reassurance, "Can I make love to you?" 

"I'd love nothing more, Robby." 

Love. 

It's like music to his eyes, hearing the word come out of your mouth. 

He knows it's too soon, and in the back of his mind, he's yelling to himself why did you pick that word don't scare her. But with that sweet smile of yours, it's easy to drown out that nagging voice, and instead focus on the fact he's definitely falling in love with you. 

"Um, where did you say the lube was? Got distracted by that smile of yours." Heat rushes to your face from his words, and you nearly forget to give him an answer. 

With a quickness you had never seen from him, Bob located and applied the lube. Yes it was rude to stare, but it was hard not to look at his dick when it was that noticeable. 

A large hand gently cupped half of your face, "You'll tell me if it's too much, right?" 

"Course," you mumbled against his lips, your hips brushing against his. 

The chuckle he let out made your heart flutter, "I know darlin', I'm excited too. Don't wanna hurt ya." 

You could never hurt me Robby was on the tip of your tongue. But it died upon feeling the head of his cock enter you. The stretch was a delicious pain that made you throw your head back. Your hands dug into his back, leaving half-crescents along his skin. 

Bob's head dropped down to your chest, his mouth taking in one of your hardened nipples. It was a tried and true method; distract you from the initial pain with something more pleasurable. His eyes never left your face, on the lookout for any sign of discomfort. 

The grip you had on him relaxed, your back arching as his teeth gently tugged on the hardened bud. 

"Robby." His name came out in the form of a strangled whine, your cunt still adjusting to the sheer size of him. 

"You okay baby?" He asked before switching to your other breast. 

"Y-yeah. You c-can move now, n-now that it's all-" 

"Darlin', I'm only halfway in ya." 

Fuck. 

"Wait, what?" How quick your voice changed from desperate to shock was near comical. 

Bob tried to stifle his laugh, instead just shrugging, "I….I told ya it was a lot." 

"I didn't realize, I mean, I know you said it was big, but I didn't realize it meant-" Jesus Christ.

"I get it, I know plenty of guys who have said they had nine inches when they really meant five." 

The comment was so unexpected from Bob, you couldn't help but laugh. He joined you, feeling at ease despite that he was halfway inside of you and you felt fucking incredible. 

He peppered your face with light kisses as he slowly inched more of himself into you. As the moments passed, your body began to get used to him. 

"Gonna start movin' now, 'kay?" You nodded eagerly, your fingers gripping the ends of his dark blonde hair. 

"Fuck, Robby!" 

"D-darlin." 

He felt incredible, making you feel a fullness that had your back arching. Had that ever happened before? You thought that was just some made up shit you read in-

All thoughts left your head when the head of his cock brushed against your sensitive walls. Without even thinking about it, your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. 

Bob was trying to think of everything under the sun that would keep himself from coming before you did, which normally wasn't a struggle. 

But you? You felt incredible.

Every sound that escaped your lips was enchanting. If you were a siren, he was diving head first to answer your call. It was mesmerizing watching you react to taking all of him; your lips slightly parted, your fingers grasping at the sheets as his thrusts increased in intensity. Your thighs trembled as he bottomed out once more, eyes widening as you process that he's finally completely inside of you and holy shit. 

Bob wasn't sure what he had done to deserve an angel like you, but he was fucking grateful for it. 

"R-Robby," your voice reduced to nothing but strangled whines, "S'big."

"Fuck, you were made f'me," Bob's voice was low and strained against your ear. His words, combined with the desperate panting that fell from his lips with every thrust, made the coil in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap at any moment. 

The only thing you could muster that resembled speech were longing whines. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, to be stretched by him, to have his cock brush against that sensitive spot that sent you tumbling closer to the edge. That no one had ever felt this good, had been this good to you. 

But that would require the ability to form coherent thoughts. 

"Ya gettin' close baby?" His drawl was thicker. Prior to Bob, you didn't think of Midwestern accents as hot. But his voice was addicting. 

You simply nodded, head now buried in the crook of his neck. 

"Don't worry, I got ya." He brought two fingers up to his mouth, coating them with his tongue. 

The sight had you whining. Call it being greedy, but you wanted all of him. 

"Ya wanna help?" You nodded your head, lips parting to allow his fingers into your mouth. 

"Such a sweet girl," He practically cooed, watching as you took the two digits up to his knuckle. 

The grunt he let out upon feeling your throat tightened as you gagged on his fingers was downright animalistic. It didn't help that Bob could feel how much it turned you on, your cunt clenching  around his cock at the sound. 

 His fingers left your mouth to trail down to where your bodies met and began drawing right circles on your clit. 

At this point, you were ninety percent certain that you were shouting Bob's name. It was hard to tell, between the bed creaking with every thrust, the downright sinful grunts Bob let out everytime he felt your walls tighten, getting closer and closer to the edge. All this, plus the sound of skin slapping against skin? Who could think about noise complaints? 

Your neighbors could get fucked. 

His lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, teeth all but clashing against yours as his tongue became familiar with your mouth. 

"W-wanna ride you," you mumbled against his shoulder, hips buckling against his. 

Bob simply shook his head,  despite how tempting your offer was, "Gotta get ya used to me, darlin'. Next time, 'kay?" 

Next time. Next time. You knew it would be at least a couple of days until next time, that you (and your cunt) would need time to rest and recover and you already knew that in itself was going to be torture because fuck, no one had ever made you feel this good before. 

But you couldn't wait for the next time. 

"C'mon darlin'. Wanna see if ya feel just as good comin' on my cock as ya do on my fingers. Think ya can do that f'me?"

Maybe you nodded. Perhaps you even gave Bob a verbal response. You weren't sure, as your brain had gone fuzzy while white hot pleasure overtook your body. 

Bob was surprised he could still thrust in and out of your cunt, considering how tightly it was clenching his cock as you came. The sight of your head thrown back, eyes closed, as the rest of your body withered in pleasure was enough for him. 

Your eyes opened upon hearing the most beautiful sound; a deep, guttural moan as Bob's hips stuttered before coming inside of you. 

There had to be other ways to get him to make those sinfully sweet noises. 

For the next few minutes, the only sounds in your room was your overhead fan and heavy panting as you and Bob attempted to catch your breath. 

Fuck, he came a lot. 

"Was that, um, was that-" 

"That was fucking incredible." Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, "Could go for another round if I'm being honest." 

Bob groaned in frustration, "I wanna be able to fuck you within the next few days, not weeks." 

You whined in response as he began to shift his body, the grip your legs had around his waist tightening. 

"Darlin', I don't wanna hurt ya," he knew you would be sore, even if you didn't feel it yet. Bob knew you would tomorrow, hell probably even later tonight. 

"No! Robby, please. N-need you. Need you s'bad." The idea of being empty, of being without him was awful. 

He didn't want to hurt you. 

But he could help wash your sheets. 

"Think you can come f'me one more time?" His voice was raspy as he pulled out. Confusion melted away into pleasure when you felt his cock drag through your soaked folds. 

He was thick and still hard, which baffled you. You were used to 'one and done'. You were used to men rolling over and falling asleep after they fucked you, not even bothering to check if you actually came. 

"You looked s'good, takin' all of me," He cooed. The praise made your head spin. 

Your hips jerk upwards, trying to catch him, but Bob sees right through it. His large hands are able to hold you down and you're honestly not sure if that was better or worse. 

"I told ya darlin', don't wanna hurt ya. Need to take a break," His gruff voice was stern. 

You gasped when the head of his cock dragged against your clit. Bob could already recognize the tall tale signs that you're close; your back arching, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, your whines increasing in pitch. 

He zeroed in on the swollen bundle of nerves, eliciting a near scream from you as you began to come undone on his cock. 

Bob couldn't help it, he tried not to curse that often. But the sight of you soaking his dick with your come caused his brain to go blank. 

What was definitely a scream came out from your lips when you felt his cock slip back inside your cunt. Your hands reached up, tugging at his hair, earning a near-growl from Bob. 

“I can’t get enough of ya. Feel s’fucking good,” each word was punctured by a thrust, “Look so pretty like this.”

As your lips parted, three fingers slid into your mouth. The sudden lack of oxygen, the sensation of his calloused fingers against your tongue, had you nearly gagging on the thick digits. 

Tears began to form at the corner of your eyes. In the back of your mind, this should be painful. Maybe you should tell Bob to stop, he would listen after all. 

But god it felt so damn good. You felt high off the immense pleasure you were experiencing, the big wave brought on by your previous orgasm having melded into small waves of pleasure. Small moans dribbled past his fingers, your hips weakly trying to meet his. 

In the back of his mind, Bob knew he should pause, should stop and ask if you wanted to still continue. But he also knew how much you enjoyed it, despite the tears. 

But that didn’t stop him from dipping his head down to your face, soft lips kissing away the tears. 

“Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He directed. How did he know that? They certainly didn’t teach that in Eagle Scouts. Or maybe they did during the swimming badge?

His cock brushed against that one spot you swore folks were making up and your mind went blank. Amidst the deep haze, his fingers leave your mouth, hooking themselves under your chin, forcing you to look upwards so he could kiss you again. 

God, did he love kissing you. 

More than the fact you made him come now three times in one night. More than the fact you were currently soaking his cock, back careening off the bed as you continued to come. 

"Oh, R-Robby." 

But that nickname, that made his heart swell, that made him feel truly at ease, made him feel like himself -not Robert or Bob- when you called him that? 

That was a close second. 

Your arms wrapped themselves around his torso, your head resting on his broad shoulder as you began to recover from tonight's excursions. 

"Stay for a little bit. Like being full of you, Robby." 

Fuck, he needed to buy a ring tomorrow. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@heartsforts @rhettabbotts @lt-bradshaw @thedroneranger @rae-gar-targaryen @abibliophobiaa @darkheartcherry @theharddeck @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @dissonannce @sonofarathorn @cherrycola27 @girl-in-the-chairs-void @callsignspark @mrsrobertfloyd @bradshawsbitch @rae-gar-targaryen @ouralcohol @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @princessphilly @babyonboardfloyd @avaleineandafryingpan

Praise kink and degradation kink go so well together. You’re telling me I’m a cute slut?? The prettiest fucktoy? Such a desperate good girl??? Way to leave me brain empty pussy dripping

where she goes ᅳ miguel o’hara

“mami, te vo’a a dar hasta que te duela la popola como a glou.”

｡･* +18. dom!miguel. messy throat fucking. cumshot. use of toys. spit k.

“buena niña, look at you drool all over my cock.” miguel´s groan was rough and deep, watching the spit drip from your mouth as you held him as far as you could take him down your throat; spit running over your chin and dripping down to his balls.

it was one of miguel´s favorite things to do: thrust deep into your throat, over and over again to make you gag around him, taking himself out to let you breath but having a firm grip in your hair, it was a proper scene to be filmed, for miguel to remember your face full of tears as you took him whole into your mouth.

“you look so pretty when you’re a mess for me. quién habría dicho que mi pequeño ángel era una zorra...” miguel groaned as he pulled himself off your drooly mouth, taking his thumb and opening your mouth, he leaned down, spitting on your open mouth before sliding his cock back in to mix it together, your spit and his now all over his hard cock. (who would´ve said my little angel was such a slut,)

you looked so pretty with your face flushed and eyes watery, chin slick with spit and the hungry glint in your eyes, miguel was aware that you loved this as much as he did.

“se siente bien, no es así?” he said, inside of your cunt, the tiny bullet toy sat snug, low vibrations that were controlled by miguel making you soak through your thin panties, feeling your desperate hum around his cock only added to his pleasure, head tilted back while his fingers ran through your hair. (it feels good, doesn´t it?)

knowing his baby was getting pleasured and genuinely got off on making him feel good? it was a good cycle to have, you both worked to make sure each other got what you needed.

“what do you think? quieres más? i want you to come while you suck me dry.” he murmured, holding your cheek in one hand and the remote to the toy in the other, your lips were wrapped around his tip as you gave him the most pathetic little whimper paired with a nod. (you want more?)

your moan at the rush of new vibrations were enough to make his cock fall out of your mouth, but it was quickly resolved when miguel grabbed your hair with one hand and threw the remote back on the side, keeping a tight grip on your head while he fed you his cock, your nose grazing the small hairs on his base while he made you take him whole.

“i didn´t say to pull off, mami.” he warned. "you gotta do better, baby.” with a new eagerness, he helped you bob your head up and down, watching you closely, seeing that you enjoyed it, your little noises of satisfaction made it even better.

miguel knew your reactions and your body better than you, and when he felt you get squirmy and your nails digging into his muscular legs, he knew you were about to cum. "i knew you were dirty, baby, but getting off with this? eres mi pequeña zorra.” he smirked, pulling you off his cock for a moment. (my little whore.)

“mhm, miggy, i can’t....” your eyes crossed slightly when he pressed the button on his remote to speed up the vibrations. “ungh- miguel.” your mouth fell open as you moaned his name.

“no puedes qué, niña linda? no puedo entender que necesitas, princesita.” he cooed, looking at his lover. you looked always so beautiful, but seeing you a complete mess, on your knees all because of him made a rush of blood go straight to his cock, getting him closer to his realease. (you can´t what, pretty girl? i can´t understand what you need, little princess.)

“please, please, i-i want to cum.” your voice got higher pitched, breathless as the vibrations rocked you, pulsing inside of your soaked cunt, it lacked the stretch his cock gave on your gummy walls, but you was happy with it in your mouth.

“oh my.... god, miggy, please....” the desperation in your voice was obvious and to him, it was delicious, miguel´s always been a weak man for begging.

“hazme venir como la buena niña que eres, and then you can.” (make me cum like the good girl you are.)

as soon as your mouth was back on him, your start sucking and licking, drooling all over his cock, and his vocals come out to play, moaning your name and groaning deeply.

“mi ángel bonito, you make me feel so good.... joder, right there. suck right there.” he hissed through the lewd actions, the slick sound of your sucking, the vibrations and your whimpers filled the room. “listen to how dirty you get me. soaking my cock with your spit, como lo haría una verdadera zorra. mierda.” (my cute angel/like a true whore would.)

knowing his weak spots, it isn’t hard to make him cum; right at the tip, rubbing your tongue up against that spot while your hands work on his length, stroking up and down while his curses continue, sometimes slipping your hand to his tightened balls.

“mierda, justo así. you dirty slut, just got to get that cock in your mouth and you show what a dirty little girl you are.” his hisses are heard through the messy strokes of your hands.

it was when you began to whimper around him that he felt the orgasm bubble over.

“oh yes. mhm, that’s it. keep moaning for my cock, voy a correrme en tu boquita.” and with one more press of the vibrator remote, the both of you became a mess, his cum in your mouth, your thighs shaking as you came around the toy and held onto him for stability. (i´m gonna cum in your little mouth.)

pulling off to moan at your orgasm, his cum started dripping from your mouth as you moaned his name.

“ah, my messy angel.” he chuckled, rubbing his cock through the mess of your lips and chin while stroking himself to get every last drop on your face.

I just know he lasts all night long!

Te Lo Ruego

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

nsfw masterlist | main masterlist

word count: 0.8k

summary: miguel is desperate for just a taste

warnings: SMUT (18+), minors DNI, miguel being a munch and pussy drunk, that’s it, it’s just him being desperate to eat you out <3 also, spanish (translation at the end)

A/N: I read two words and was inspired to write this…took me about an hour and now this is all i’m thinking about, please enjoy // as always, feedback is greatly appreciated, reblog and lmk what you think! <333

Keep reading

re-watching daredevil is not enough, i need Daredevil to fuck me

The Putz and The Perv [professor!Jonathan Levy x Fem!Reader]

Summary: Showing off your anatomy in the anatomy lecture hall. 

Word Count: 8.2k 

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Exhibitionism, age gap, infidelity, drinking warm Jack Daniels like a true college gurl, taking the Lord’s name in vain, 1[one] singular use of the word “cunt”, whoops now there are two cunts. Okay now there’s three. Penis in hand, penis in mouth, penis in love?? Your immersive experience may be hindered if you speak yiddish and or have a cashew allergy.

Authors Note: Heh, anatomy, get it? I think I’m clever. Validate me and I’ll love you forever. Also don’t you ever, don’t you dare, don’t you even wish to dream to think to send me requests for shit. Because this is what happens. This is from the Scenes From A Marriage universe, but can be read as a standalone thot piece. 

You’re a pervert. You’re fucking disgusting. You tell yourself that it’s harmless, this thing you’re doing, but really, the only people who would agree with you on that are other perverts. 

You should have dropped this class weeks ago. It doesn’t even line up with your major anymore. You’re still undecided- flitting around the disciplines, last semester it was Art History, this semester it’s Psychology. So you took a somewhat safe bet with Anatomy, thinking it’d be a nice, neutral choice while you figure out what it is that you really want to do. This shit isn’t safe, or nice, or fucking neutral. It’s nuclear, and you’re making it worse every fucking class period. Look, anyone can teach you anatomy. There isn’t a specific skill to the memorization of the origins and insertions of each muscle. You just have to sit down and memorize them. Any teacher would do. And, fuck, it is just so inappropriate of you to be doing what you’re doing. You should leave the poor man alone. 

But, god, why- why is he so sexy? Without trying to be? How powerful is his magnetism that his outfit of loose corduroy trousers and Costco Dad sneakers does nothing to mitigate your attraction? It’s objectively fucking horrible. But there’s something hot about it too, like, the fact that he doesn’t care how fucking hot he is. Or, more like, he’s treating his hotness with great responsibility. Not flaunting it or accentuating it with tailored looks, but putting on the first outfit he grabbed at a goodwill in an attempt to bring gravitas to the thing that he’s teaching. He’s going to have to find much baggier clothes for that to work on you. Like a monk’s robe, maybe. No, no, not a monk’s robe. Now that’s opening up a whole new can of worms, of vows of celibacy, forbidden attraction, and, yeah let’s not go there-

Also, yes, okay, you see the ring. Of course you see the ring, you fucking pervert. Because of fucking course he’s married. He’s married and probably very happy and fulfilled. In any case, he definitely doesn’t need you sitting in the front row of his lecture hall with your short skirt, flashing him your lack of panties. Pervert.

Keep reading

Positioning someone to get fucked is so fun. Like you could do it roughly, toss them onto the bed and grab their hips. Yank them towards you as you grip them tightly. Laugh at the way their eyes widen and their breath hitches as you lean in and make them feel owned.

Or you could do it nice and gentle. Take your time pressing them into the bed and brushing back their hair. Guide their ass up right where you want it and then lightly run your nails down over their sides. Whisper to them how good you’re gonna fuck them and watch them blush and squirm at the thought. Either way I just love positioning my sub so that they’re right where I want them.