ssunny-side

Latest Posts by ssunny-side

Inktober Day 28 - Jumbo

I came across the HQ, extreme close-up of the hand and couldn't help myself 💜

Hey there, it’s Dad. I like to write about you and König.

(18+) This blog contains dark content. Please comb warnings carefully and read at your own discretion. Take care <3

✧₊⁺ Drabble Masterlist

✧₊⁺ LongForm Masterlist Below

The Girl Who Conquered The Mountain (NSFW 18+)

(Outcast!Konig x Reader, 122k+ words)

Summary: You and Konig have been chosen to participate in a twenty-four tribute fight to the death.

AO3 Tumblr Navigation + Bonus Content

Meine Perle (NSFW 18+)

(Octo!Konig x Reader, 25k words, Completed)

Summary: Reader is tasked with feeding enemy prisoner Octo!Konig.

“Just don’t step over the tape, don’t talk to it, and try not to spend too much time in there. Oh, and don’t forget the bucket.”

AO3 Tumblr

His (NSFW 18+)

(Stalker!Konig x Reader, 15.5k words)

Summary: Konig has an unhealthy obsession with you.

AO3 Tumblr: PART ONE PART TWO

Experimental (NSFW 18+)

(Konig x Reader, 22k words, Completed)

Summary: Konig helps you with a new technology you’ve been developing. You see something you’re not supposed to.

Tumblr: PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

AO3

✧₊⁺ König Drabble Masterlist

Dad loves you! <3

nobody tweets like hozier...I love him so much

Collecting decorative Headstones.

All from the 1800's. We just don't make them like this anymore.

New York City ballet production of Midsummer Nights Dream

STRANGER THINGS - PORN LINKS (twitter)

Warning: 18+!!!, pornlinks

links for Steve, Nancy, Eddie and Robin, because why not

Steve Harrington

— Teasing Steve after a fight

— Fucking after he climbs through your window

— Steve can’t stop fingering you

— Him fucking you passionatly in the shower

— Steve breeding you all night long

— Making you ride him but he can’t resist fucking you

Nancy Wheeler

— Nancy comforting you after a stressful day

— “studying” with Nancy

— Playing with Nancy and a strap-on

— Rubbing your pussies

Eddie Munson

— Rough fuck with Eddie

— Eddie loves seeing your face when he fucks you hard

— Eating your pussy like his last meal

— Playing with his hole while fucks you

— Eddie loves choking you

Robin Buckley

— Robin fucks you with a strap-on

— Robin fingering you

— Playing with Robin in the backroom when you visit her at work

— Robin got you a toy

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A new relationship means excitement, an uncontrollable craving for each other. When an early morning romp is interrupted with a scheduled weekly meeting, will you be able to keep your hands to yourself when Price begins to drone on? And if you can't, what will your lieutenant lover do once the meeting is over after you've tempted him for far too long?

Word Count: 7.8 k

Warnings:

“Come on, just a quickie before you gotta go,” you try to bargain as you roll onto your knees on the mattress, moving to straddle yourself over top of Simon’s lap so that he can’t get out of your bed yet. “Promise I'll make it worth your while.”

You sit on his thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck and he grabs onto your hips with those large hands, only his boxers and your panties keeping you apart. Gently you run your fingers through the short, dirty blonde hair at the back of his head before bending down to try enchanting him with your kiss to stay a little longer before you both have to start your day. You know if you can get him going, quick is the last thing it is going to be and all you want is more time in his company. It’s getting harder these days to let him go. 

Your lips meet and he sighs long and deep as he drinks you in. This new development in your relationship is only a couple months in the making, but you already have him in a chokehold that he can't seem to break free from. Goddammit your kiss is like heaven and he wants nothing more than to shove you back into the mattress and get lost in the ecstasy of your body all over again, but obligations of the job that you have so conveniently forgotten about are fast approaching this morning. As much as he hates it, clearly he’s going to have to be the responsible one. Christ, you aren’t making it easy when your pretty eyes are begging him for more as you pull agonizingly slow from his mouth and roll your hips over top of him. 

“We can’t,” he says with an agitated groan as he bites the corner of his lips so the pain will stop him from losing it and leaning back in; if he doesn’t show some restraint now it’s not going to happen. “Officer’s meetin’, ‘member? Don’t wanna start any rumors with our absence, do ya? Rather not have to have a discussion with Price today. So, ya best stop fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that ‘fore ya get us both in trouble. Cause ya know if I get started, I ain’t stoppin’.”

Fuck, is it that time of the week again already? You’ve nearly forgotten the date, so absorbed in having the hulking military lieutenant all to yourself over the weekend. Instantly your heart sinks as you realize that your request isn’t going to get fulfilled now, not if you want to keep this relationship on the down low. No, you don’t want your good thing ruined by stirring up trouble, no matter how much your body still trembles to be beneath him right now.

Fine, your hands are tied at this point, so you’ll just have to be strong and table this till later. Or at least… you’re gonna try. 

“Just can’t get enough of you,” you say, resigning defeatedly as you move to rest your forehead on his.

Eyes shut, he takes a few seconds just to enjoy the closeness with you before he speaks. “Later,” he reassures in a husky whisper. “Not like I can fuckin’ stay away from ya.”

A warm kiss is swiftly pinned to your temple and you sigh defeatedly before you move off of him to sit at his side. He gives you a look before he gets to his feet to find his clothes strewn about the floor, dressing as you watch on with hungry eyes until his body is covered once again. Instantly you are missing the sight of it now that it’s gone. Later already feels like a lifetime away as you fall back against your pillow with a groan and cover your eyes with your arm. 

The sounds of rustling clothes and the jingling of a belt buckle lasts just a few more seconds, followed by the sound of heavy steps before you feel a depression next to you on the bed. A rough hand removes your arm from your face and you are met with those coffee eyes and cheeky smile poking out from beneath his half pulled down mask as he leans over top of you. “See ya at the meetin’, luv,” he says before leaving you with a quick kiss as he rushes to get out the door before that one small action ruins it all and he ends up getting you both caught from sticking around too long.

You watch the door shut behind him and in the silence that follows you can hear the sound of your heartbeat throbbing in your head. How are you meant to keep it together now?

Getting dressed feels like an impossible chore, but eventually you finish and arrive at the conference room with a bit of time to spare before the meeting starts. You enter the space and are immediately dragged into making small talk with a few of the others standing around the conference table, exchanging pleasantries till Price arrives. The heat in your cheeks struggles to dissipate from the morning and it is only made worse as a tall, burly figure enters a couple minutes later and makes his way to the back of the room as if it’s nothing. Your vision constantly darts over to that masked man in the corner as you chat, your pulse keeping your face hot because you can tell that he is doing the same, though the shadow created from the fabric covering his face gives him the advantage in keeping his dark eyes on you.

Trying to force his sight not to linger on you today isn’t an option, not when he can see the product of his kiss still spread through your face. It’s captivating to be in the presence of something like that belongs to only him, so why the hell would he not want to soak you all in? It’s like he is hypnotized. He hasn’t felt like this in a long, long time and to say he isn’t a little obsessed would be a complete lie. Just looking at you gets his pulse racing now and it’s almost instantaneous how he has to adjust the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly gotten a little tight as his body reacts to the sight of yours.

He’s gotta snap out of his insatiable craving right now or this meeting is going to be brutal to try and get through. Moving to the back of the table, he takes his seat to hide the bulge growing in his pants. That’s when a familiar voice rings through the room just the same as it has week after week and Simon feels like he can breathe a little easier.

“Mornin’ everyone,” the distinct voice of your superior is heard over the small crowd. “Let’s get started, shall we. Got things to do.”

Captain Price doesn’t waste any time, arriving precisely on the hour just as he always does and everyone immediately takes their seats just like clockwork. Good, now all he has to do is get through the hour and then you’ll go your separate ways until the end of the day. However, as he looks on as the chairs around the table get filled, he realizes that your usual seat towards the front already has a body sitting in it that isn’t yours and the only free chair left is at the back of the table right next to him.

Your eyes meet and your breath hitches as you see the empty spot beside him and it feels like you can’t get enough oxygen as you make your way over; no sense in prolonging your agony. Simon’s shoulders stiffen as you take your seat, the tension caused from your proximity making his mind hazy, even before Price begins to drone on about nothing of major significance. It’s all just daily reports and mandated updates from around the base, so it doesn’ take long before it all becomes background noise to the beating of his heart in his ears. 

You aren’t fairing any better as your mind begins to wander and it’s in that loss of attention that the trouble starts to brew. 

Sensory-filled memories of the past couple of nights play through your mind on repeat: sweaty, tangled limbs, burning kisses that steal your breath, ecstasy filling you up until all you can do is lay back and let it consume you; it’s the type of euphoria that could make you an addict if you're not careful enough. The vivid sensations associated with the images flooding through your mind chip away at your calm so that about halfway in your sanity has deteriorated. 

You cross your knees over one another and clamp your legs together to stop the ache blossoming between your thighs, but it does nothing to help. You have to do something to ease the agony because you cannot squeeze your legs together any tighter or the danger of you accidentally letting out a moan will become a real threat. Desperately your eyes dart around the room to try and focus on anything in particular, but there is nothing that grabs their attention until they stop back at the table in front of you and out of the corner of your sight you notice the top of Simon's thigh peeking out from under the table. Those juicy bits of his body that you know intimately as they have been pressed between your legs before are a magnet for your sight and suddenly there is a need that is awakened in you.

Fuck, now you have a new problem. The longer you look, the harder it gets. Imagination isn't enough anymore. Shoving your hands into the tight space between your crossed legs you try to bury the feeling, but your desire pleads with you to reach over and get a feel.

Just a little touch won’t hurt, right? 

He probably won’t even notice if you are careful enough, at least that's what you try to convince yourself of so you don't sound so fucking desperate. Maybe giving yourself a little treat will help ease the pain enough that you can move on. As Simon leans back in his chair, trying to adjust his position to keep himself focused on Price, you take that as a sign that you should just go for it.  

Simon notices the way you shift in your seat, inching in closer to the edge of the chair nearest his side. You pause for a few seconds before he catches you moving again and now your shoulders are almost touching. He wonders what you’re up to getting this intimate, but just as the question enters his mind more movement grabs his attention and he watches as you lean in and your shoulder twitches. Then he feels it, a delicate bit of pressure on his thigh that immediately sends him spiraling.

You have reached over and are now running your fingertips over the outer seam on the leg of his pants, but the moment you make the slightest contact with him a yearning blossoms in your chest so strong that you can’t stop yourself and your fingers begin to wander thoughtlessly. Soon you find your touch on the outer edge of his thigh and then the middle and still you can’t force yourself to stop.  

Simon risks a look down into the shadow underneath the table only to see your arm stretched out and your hand creeping in towards the middle of his lap. He pries his sight back up and catches you peeking over at him from the corner of your eye. Your gazes meet and your chest begins to rise and fall more heavily than it had a few seconds ago as you shoot him a tempting look.

Oh, so this is what’s going to happen today; his strength of will is going to be tested. Fuck.

Carefully and quietly, Simon repositions himself in his seat. Without turning his face at all, he inclines his head to the side so that it is nearly pressed against yours. “Ya sure ya wanna start this?” he growls his question in a whisper near your ear, yet he does nothing else as he sits back up straight. 

Your hand continues on undeterred and makes it in between his thighs without any resistance; it’s clear that neither of you were finished with what was trying to be started this morning as a small peak already meets your hand before you’ve even done anything.   

Simon exhales a shaky breath as your hand makes contact with the crotch of his pants and it takes all his willpower to hold steady as you run your hand over the mound just under the zipper. Thank God he’s wearing his jacket today, otherwise the way his chest starts to heave with each labored breath as you stroke your palm consistently over the swell would give him away to everyone here. Behind the mask, his mouth hangs open slightly as he forces himself to quietly pant as if under duress. 

Being this close to him, you can hear the change in his breathing and those subtle deviations in his respiration guide your movements further. You press down and he has to bite his lip until he tastes that first bit of copper to keep himself under control. And yet he doesn't pull your hand away… because he doesn't want to. His pretty thing needs to feel him, he isn’t going to deny that. It’s a risk, but it’s one he is more than willing to take just to keep you locked in this moment with him.

Over and over you go in with insatiable intent, stroking until the tip of his thick cock throbs with his pulse against your touch as a throbbing of your own. The sound of your captain is barely a faint whisper at this point as all of your  awareness is focused solely in the silent tension shared between you and your lover as your hand draws him closer and closer to release just from the pressure alone. 

The tingle in his lap radiates out in waves that make his limbs feel heavy and causes a cold sweat to break out across his skin and just as Simon thinks that he can’t take a second more of stimulation because he’s going to burst, the meeting finally comes to an end. Quickly you have to pull your hand back out of his lap as your fellow officers’ attentions are no longer focused towards the front of the room and you pray that they can’t see the way your body shudders. 

You don’t dare get out of your seat yet; at this point your legs are like jelly and you are sure that if you try to stand you will make a fool of yourself by stumbling around. Instead, you pull out your phone to pretend you are making a note of something important as everyone leisurely files out until all that is left is you and Simon in the empty room. 

He hasn’t said a word since his cautionary question, instead moving out of his seat the moment he could to lean up against the wall near the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest. The last person makes it out and yet he’s still standing there soundlessly as if he is waiting for something, his shadowed gaze locked onto your form. 

Eventually you calm yourself enough to make it out of your seat and back onto your feet without falling. You take a few steps to leave and you nearly make it out of the room before the door is promptly pushed shut in your face and Simon places himself directly between you and the exit. Instantly you are stopped in your tracks and you stand there curiously as that familiar click from the lock being engaged is heard and the room falls silent, not even the sound of people coming and going can be heard on this side of the door. 

“What was that, hmm?” he asks in fake anger, his bright eyes giving him away even with the mask covering the majority of his features.

You shrug. “What are we talking about?” you ask in return with a tilt of your head. Ever the little actress, it seems.

He chuckles deeply as a spark flashes through the irises of his eyes to make them shine the way an animal’s does before it goes in for the kill. You know exactly what that look means. “Playin’ games, are ya?” he asks. “Or did ya already forget the way you were just tryin’ to make me come?”

“Is there a problem?” you ask back as the corner of your lip upturns ever so subtly. 

He takes a step towards you and you move back with it; another and you do the same. This continues only a few more paces until you run out of space and back into the edge of the table, allowing Simon to move in without a problem until his body is within a few feet of yours. Reaching out with one of those large hands he wraps it around your wrist and pulls your arm forward into him. 

“Oh, we ‘ave a big fuckin’ problem now, sweet,” he groans as he takes your hand and pins the palm just to the side of the zipper on his pants. You don’t even have to look down to know what he’s talking about as there is a hard, stiff peak that meets your touch; the tip of his cock strains against your hand as he presses your palm down over it. “See what ya did?” 

An unintentional moan escapes your lips at the feeling that you try to disguise with a cough, but Simon has already caught it. With a hook of his thumb under the cloth of his mask, he pries it up off of his mouth and in the same motion he jerks your arm past his body to pull you in the miniscule distance still between you both so that you are now plastered to his chest. Since his mask isn’t an issue anymore, his hand captures your chin in its grip and he holds on firmly. 

The intense domination of the movement feels like an ambush on your sanity and with that one simple motion he already has your heart fluttering just like he wants. You’ve played your little game and gotten him riled up, and it’s got him craving you so bad he can hardly keep his thoughts straight. Now it’s his turn at it and he isn’t going to stop until he has chipped away at your resolve so that you want him just as badly. 

Keeping his grip tight on your chin he cocks your head to the side to move it out of his way as he leans his face in towards the soft, tender skin that has been revealed to him just under your jawline. 

“Now, how’re we gonna fix this? Can’t go ‘round wit this thing at full attention,” his balmy breath travels over your skin as his lips rub along the side of your neck, the tip of his nose catching that sweet spot just behind your earlobe. 

The very faint stumble covering the lower half of his face prickles your skin as he presses his lips against you gently at first to let the feather-light pressure tantalize the flesh around that pulsing vein under your jawbone. He can feel it begin to race under his touch the quicker your heart pumps and he has to force himself to take a breath. To observe the physical reaction you have to him, to feel the way you come alive in his hands, it’s enough to bring him to his knees and if he isn’t careful he can easily lose himself.     

“Ya owe me–” he trails his kisses upward until his lips are pressed along your jaw “for–” those heated kisses keep going over the contour until he hovers right over your mouth, lips ghosting over yours just out of reach “–all that teasin’.”

You attempt to move in and collapse the distance between your mouths to zero, but his hold on your face keeps you at bay. Again you struggle to embrace his mouth and again he pulls you back and it’s clear what the game is now. If you want his kiss on your lips, you are going to have to meet his conditions. 

“What do you want?” you ask coyly as if there is anything else that he could possibly be after at this moment. 

Simon runs the tip of his stout tongue over the middle of his bottom lip as he stares at yours, the skin on your mouth growing redder with each erratic inhale of breath you take, before he drifts his gaze back up the short distance to your eyes. He admires how they shimmer with unspoken wants as he meets them again. 

You know full well that the door is locked, Simon is certain you heard him secure it since you were close. That means you both are cut off from the rest of the base while in here and with the meeting over, there is no reason for anyone to come around. The room is yours for as long as you want.

“Well, we’re all alone, luv,” he says. 

“Mmhmm,” you agree as if he’s asked a question.

Taking both his hands, he cradles the back of your head as his thumbs rest against your cheeks and he takes a step so that his hips block your body against the table. He inches in ever so carefully, making sure that his lips will not touch yours, but be just close enough that the agony caused from their proximity will make you fucking burn to feel them. It’s a game that he has perfected over his time with you and one he prides himself on being the master of. 

“Ya know what I fuckin’ want.” 

The heat from his warm breath wafts over your lips to make them tingle from the change in temperature. This close you can finally catch the scent of his natural musk mixing with the sharp notes of his spicy cologne and the smell reminds you of your sheets where the fragrance still lingers. It is overwhelming your senses until you feel delirious and out of control. 

“Wanna take ya on this fuckin’ table,” he breathes into your face in a growl the comes from somewhere deep inside. “Can’t wait.”

His voice is pure sex on a good day, but in these moments when his full attention is on you as he plays up the sultry notes of his tone to match his growing need, you can’t help the way you squeeze your legs together as a shudder of pleasure runs like icy water straight through to your core. 

“Undo - your - pants,” he orders, his deep, heavily accented voice breathy, but firm. “Now.”

Your pulse is pounding in your ears with your short, quick breaths and he takes the moment to tempt you further by having the tip of his tongue gracefully slither out of his mouth to catch the edge of your upper lip, lightly grazing the inner bit so that you shiver and it takes all your strength not to buckle at your knees and stumble in his grasp.  

Finally gaining control of your limbs through the haze spreading in your mind you move your hands over your abdomen, using touch alone to find the fastener at the front of your pants as he holds your head in place, forcing you to keep your eyes focused on him. Finally you locate the button and as swiftly as your shaky fingers can manage, you fidget with it till it opens and you can guide down the zipper. 

A ravenous grin spreads across Simon’s lips at the sound of your clothes being shed. It’s Pavlovian the way it immediately makes his mouth salivate with anticipation as he knows that soon he is about to enjoy a feast that includes all your delicious curves ready and begging for his special brand of ecstasy.

You’ve done what he’s asked and now you desperately want your reward, but you should know by now it isn’t going to be that easy. He is a man of mutual obsession and you’ve only barely just started to ache with the overwhelming intensity that he wants; he needs you in shambles just like he’s had to be this whole time as you stroked him under the table.  

“Please,” you plead tacitly as multiple words seem too cumbersome to have in your mouth.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet. Push ‘em down,” he demands. “Take ‘em off.”   

You scramble to follow his dictation and grab onto the waistband of your pants, jerking them down over the curve of your rear and continuing until they are past your calves, slipping out of your boots so that you can step out of the fabric now bunched at your ankles. You stand back up straight and immediately those rough fingers are outlining the band on your panties just below the hem of your shirt and each time they graze over the tender skin of your pelvis, you gasp inaudibly into his face as the electricity from his touch makes your skin tingle. 

As one hand plays, the other that is cradled at the base of your skull draws your face to him. “Ya got me wantin’ ya so bad it fuckin’ stings,” he admits. “Is that what ya want, sweetheart? Ya want me a goddamn mess wheneva you’re around?”

His thumb tugs at the corner of your mouth as he drags it over your bottom lip and the action takes your breath so you have to forcefully catch it. “I want you to want me as bad as I want you,” you answer as your heartbeat hiccups in your chest.

Simon chuckles. “Greedy girl,” he says, drawing out the words, his voice getting more and more gravely. “Ya know how fuckin’ hard I was strugglin’ to not just throw ya on the table and take right there in front a everyone? Ya got me outta my goddamn mind insane for ya with just a touch.”

You look up at him with starry eyes, the kind of sight that makes him feel like you think he’s hung the fucking moon for you. “Take…me now…” you beg.

He can feel you tremble in his hands as you plead for your sanity and it pushes him to his breaking point. “That what ya want?” he asks. “Let me hear it, sweet.”

You nod without even having to think about it. “Please, Simon. Please. I haven’t stopped needin you since this morning. Just give it to me.”

Fuckin’ hell he is going to absolutely wreck you after that.

Tilting his head to one side he moves in and with a sharp inhale of breath before the plunge, he hauls your mouth to his and crashes his lips on yours. The deadly potency in his embrace knocks the little bit of air you just drew in from your lungs and in an instant you are left gasping for breath again while not wanting him to pull away.  

That huge, hulking body with all of its bulky muscles overwhelms your own as he pins himself harder against you, pushing your hips together to grind that stiff peak roughly against you with rocking movements, hips rolling into you again and again until you join him as your frantic fingers rip the jacket off his shoulders and down his arm so that you can feel his skin under your hands.   

His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, desperate kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion. The contrast between the rough way he embraces you with the delicately smooth feel of his lips is a sensory overload in the best way. Those long fingers of both of his hands are now tangled in the strands of your hair at the back of your head, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the harshness of his lips as he claims your mouth as his. 

You match his energy and your fingers find the hem of his mask that still clings to his face and you slip them up underneath to pry it off the rest of the way so that you can caress the back of his head and make him buckle from the shiver as you run your fingertips over his scalp. He holds you tighter as a blunt grunt of pleasure vibrates up from his chest and he breathes it into your open mouth for you to swallow down. He is so caught up in the passion of the moment that he nips aggressively at your lower lip until you gasp as it stings so good. 

The warmth from his breath tingles along the raw skin of your mouth as he buries his nose in your cheek the harder he pushes in. No matter how close you are, it isn’t enough; he wants…no he needs to be closer. He isn’t sure yet if he likes being the type of man that goes feral with an insatiable appetite for his lover, but if you are going to be greedy with wanting his attention he is going to be greedy in the way he reciprocates it.

You are suddenly on the move as Simon easily slides his strong hands up under your arms and picks you up to set you on top of the sturdy table, tugging behind your knees to pull you forward so that you are at the very edge of the surface. You hadn’t realized how warm you are until the instant the cool table touches the bare skin on the back of your legs.

A hum vibrates in his chest as he rubs the length of your thighs before he lockes his hands around them to pry them apart and moving in with his palm, he slides it up into the crotch of your panties and cups his wide hand up over your sex.

“F-fuck,” you whimper as he presses down to pin your lips up into your clit. “I need…I need…”

“Whatcha need, sweet?” he asks through panting breaths as he pulls back and pushes in again, making you squeak out a high pitched whine. “Tell me, use your words.”

You swallow hard. “Need… your fingers…” you struggle to say as he does the same maneuver again.

“Does that sweet little clit need my attention?” he asks. “Achin’ for my touch? Ya think I should jus’ give it to ya after the mess ya made a me when I couldn’t even get at ya yet?”

He keeps his hand pinned down and the pressure makes your hips buck in reaction. “I know… I know…” you stammer out the sloppy confession as you fight to create any words at all. “Couldn’t help it.”

If he had been in a more calm state, he would have liked to tell you to get yourself started to see how you’d follow his directions, and then if you did a good enough job he would come in, but Simon wants to feel you just as much as you crave his touch. The strangle you have on his sanity is making him lose it fast and there isn’t much time he is going to be able to spare, but even in his inebriated state as he slowly drowns in your ecstasy, his mind concocts a devilish plan. 

Maybe he can have both his cake and finger it too.

Suddenly he takes your hand in his, wrapping his larger one over top while making you match the way his two middle fingers stick out with yours, and forces them both to descend down the tingling skin of your lower abdomen into the front of your underwear as he rests against you with foreheads touching. Working your combined fingers in tandem, Simon parts through the lips of your pussy and moves both sets right up against that tiny bundle of nerves just above your core.

“Already wet, pretty girl?” he groans with a hiss as his finger makes contact with a bit of warm moisture once inside. “Not enough, though. I want ya fuckin’ drippin’ for me. And we’re gonna do this how I want. Now we’re gonna make ya a mess so I don’t feel so alone.”

It hasn’t left his mind that this isn’t the safest place to be, that even though the room is only used on those weekly occasions when Price gathers his personnel to keep everyone up to speed, even though the space is vacated and the door locked, there is no guarantee that someone won’t try and get in. He has to be quick, but he is going to do this right. 

Simon expertly guides your finger over your clit in that very distinct way that he does it, rubbing in concise circles over the nub with both of your fingers, using a bit of light pressure as your knees fall apart to give him more access and it doesn’t take long until your mouth falls open so that all those pretty sounds can escape unhindered just as you know he likes.

Their sound only adds fuel to his desire. Having him pilot your movements, forcing you to pleasure yourself under his control, adds another level of euphoria that he had not previously thought possible. Fuck, does he feel powerful to take you like this, both of you working together until your wetness dribbles down his fingers as the heat warms his hand.  

His face is so close to yours that he can use your breath to fill his lungs as he runs out of air; the only thing he wants to sustain his life at this moment. Breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you; he only wants to be consumed by you like a man possessed. He has never needed anyone in the way he needs you and the more he causes you to sing, the more he has to be sure that no one else can ever satisfy you the way that he can. It’s his mission now to completely ruin you for anyone else.

Your legs start to shake as the pressure continues to build from the sensitivity and your calves crush his hips as a pitiful whimper you let out sends him over the edge and drives him insane in his already weakened state. There is no stopping the feral part of his brain from taking over to guide his movements and suddenly your clit isn’t the only thing he wants to play with; he needs to fill you.

You can feel your hand on the move, slithering down until the tips of both your fingers reach your entrance. And quickly they ascend up into you to stretch you out as your legs vibrate, the flood of blood to your cheeks making your face burn like you’re on fire as he keeps shoving up inside until he reaches the amalgamation of your combined knuckles. He keeps his eyesight down to watch the way your hands make your panties bulge as your pussy is filled with the both of you.

The unexpected fullness causes your back to arch and your head to fall back as you struggle to stifle a desperately loud cry from being stretched. Instantly Simon drags your head up and harshly connects your lips with overwhelming savagery to stop the sound from getting out, sucking it down his throat with his mouth pressed to you so securely as you continue to groan in short bursts until you finally are able to calm yourself enough to keep your volume down.  

Your body grips both of your fingers tight as he begins to rhythmically work at your G spot with rough and intense movements, unable to calm down. The harder he goes the more dampness covers the fingers inside you and it drips down onto the back of his hand and begins to stick to the inside of your thighs. Your walls flutter around his fingers the more they swell and that lets him know that you’re close. His pulse is racing to feel it, that moment you come; no single sensation ever gives him more pleasure than being the reason you fall apart.

Your hips begin to grind onto your hands for more friction. “Fuck…fuck…” you mutter in agony under your breath. It’s nearly there, just a bit more. 

Stroking and grinding, stroking and grinding, it feels like an eternity stuck at the edge of that cliff as the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach grows in intensity, but suddenly and without warning, like a wave washing over you, that warmth reaches its peak and shoots through you as you fall over the edge.  

Simon makes you ride out your orgasm on your fingers until you settle and only then does he gently pull your hands out from your still quivering core and up out of your panites, never letting you go. He holds them up and your fingers glisten with the product of his work under the fluorescent lighting. After taking a few seconds just to admire the way they look he locks eyes with you and holds your gaze as he brings those coated digits on your hand straight up to his mouth and sucks them inside that wet cavern. He uses his tongue to swirl around your fingers to clean them, sucking on them thoroughly to get all the taste of you off and you nearly faint from the erotic nature of his action. 

The way he has no shame when it comes to enjoying every bit of you is staggering to behold. He is insatiable and you can’t get enough.

Giving your hand back, Simon steps up right against you between your legs as his hand slips between your bodies and he shifts his hips slightly so that he can undo his belt buckle, then the button on his jeans, and finally pull down the zipper. Sticking his hand inside the shadowed recesses of his boxers, he pulls out and releases that thick, veiny appendage that has been throbbing for far too long without relief. It stands at attention and bobs with his pulse, a mouth-watering view of all that girth ready just for you. 

The knuckle of his finger bushes over your still overly sensitive cunt as he hooks the digit into the seam at the crotch of your ruined panties and jerks them to the side out of his way before the tip of his cock presses into your petals. So slowly he guides himself past that first barrier in through your lips and carefully he strokes his cock in your cum, coating himself in the heated moisture his touch produced. 

Calloused fingers suddenly divide through the strands of your hair at the back of your head so that his grip is securely woven into you as the others dig into your hip. “You drive me wild, pretty girl,” he says with covetous aggression, “but if ya ain’t careful, I may not be able to contain myself like I did today. So unless ya want me ta fuck ya in front a everyone, you’re gonna wait till we’re alone to start things, yeah?”

You nod in agreement.

“Then I’ll make sure ta get ya so fuckin’ good,” he whispers as he pulls out just enough so that he adjust himself to align his swollen tip with your entrance. “Won’t let ya go till you’re satisfied, promise.” 

He prods against the opening, pushing up against it until you feel drunk on the feeling of anticipation as you wait impatiently for when he finally thrusts hard enough to get all that girth in. “Lift your hips,” he hurriedly demands and you lean back on your hands to help angle your pelvis upward.

Those coffee-colored eyes meet yours one last time as his hand gives your hair a tug. “Let’s finish this right, yeah?” he breathes and his hips snap forward as he pulls yours down.

The moment the tip breaks through the threshold of your body you both involuntarily share a gasp between your open mouths. You are so wet and clearly more than ready to take him, but he still has to pace himself getting in or else he’s going to come before he’s had a chance to really fuck you good. Still your body sucks him in every single inch he gives you until he reaches the base of his shaft where he pauses. 

The width of his cock pushes against your walls until they form around the contours perfectly and his hand on your hip burrows harder into the skin in an attempt to let any other feeling get through the overwhelming sensation of being inside you so that he can last. He focuses back on your face where your eyes are shut tight and something about that just won’t do. He wants those blown-out pupils that rest behind closed lids to be fixated on him as if he is the only thing in the entire fuckin’ world that you crave to look at.

Because you are the only thing in his.  

“Eh, eyes on me, sweet,” he growls desperately to get your attention back. “Need ta fuckin’ see ‘em. That’s it, just like that.”

You open your eyes and your aching gaze renders Simon speechless. How in the fuck did he get so lucky to call you his and why in the hell didn’t he make that happen sooner? Without any more of a pause he begins to thrust in and out of you with a ferocity that makes your body burn as his desire overtakes him. Each stroke stretches you out more until the sting subsides and all that’s left is the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.

Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you to the brim on all of his passion for your body as the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space, accentuated by the sound of threads snapping as your panties are stretched to the point of ripping. Panting heavily into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon unleashes himself upon you.

“Fuck,” he says, jaw hanging slack with desire, “wish ya could see how pretty ya look right now.”

Harder and harder he thrusts into you until the table begins to rock with him as he shoves his fat cock as far up into you it almost hits the back of your cervix. He desperately tries to keep the pace even, but it is reaching the point of no return.  

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he stutters with a groan low and guttural as he starts the feel that pressure again building at the base of his spine, ready to shoot through him at any second of he keeps this up. “So fuckin’ good. Can’t ever get enough of ya.”

You buck against him, meeting his movements with your own as you use your legs wrapped around his hips as leverage. The risky nature of your triste barely registers anymore as the stimulation from his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over again inside you clouds all your thoughts except one: the need to come. And it is fast approaching the longer he goes until it is right fucking there; all he has to do is keep going.

“Shit, don’t stop Simon,” you plead in distress to him, your toes curling into the air as you focus on your erratic breathing. 

“Tha’s it, sweet, come for me,” he growls, “Come all over my fuckin’ cock.” 

His pace is relentless as he pumps with those powerful thrusts that bury him deep within you, unyielding and relentless with his need to render you completely satisfied. And just like that everything comes to a head with a shudder as your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp. You squeak out in a whine before you clamp your lips together tight to make sure you can stay as quiet as you can as you ride out the depth of your pleasure on his cock. God, it doesn’t stop, second after second it just keeps building stronger and stronger. Simon does not let up and soon you are whining from the over-stimulation.

He isn’t far behind though and it doesn’t take many more strong thrusts until the warmth that had been building to this point twice now finally shoots through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he rips his cock out of you and through your thighs as he pulls up your shirt over your tits to cover your stomach in sticky semen as he comes hard.

Leaning forward, Simon opens his mouth and latches it fully onto your collarbone through the fabric of your shirt, digging his teeth into the muscle to keep himself quiet as he milks himself dry with your thighs. He grinds up into those juicy bits of your legs as he grunts laboriously into the muscle of your shoulder so that it vibrates from the intensity while his wide hips continue rolling upward until he has nothing left to give and his shoulders slump forward with exhaustion as he comes to a stop.   

The muscles of his arms are shaking as he releases your shoulder from his mouth. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he says out of breath, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, “I ain’t ever been to a meetin’ that ended this way, but Christ should they.” 

You chuckle as you incline up into his face to catch his mouth in your embrace. Releasing his lips, you are met with a contented smile as he strokes your cheek sweetly with his thumb. You both know you need leave, you’ve spent too much time here already, but Simon just can’t let you go. At least, not yet. Not when you look so good in that post-coital hazy state of bliss that it makes his heart flutter.  

Lae'zel's character and her entire situation at the beginning of the game becomes so much more funny when you find out she's 22. It makes so much sense. Imagine you're 22 and you're exposed to this dangerous toxin or chemical or something - but not to worry, you learnt that this can be easily fixed, you just need to dial 911 real quick. Common knowledge. Everyone knows that. You learnt that in kindergarten, it's up there with fire alarm drills.

But the people you're stuck with have no concept of modern medicine and when you say "let's go to the hospital" they will say shit like "i think they kill people at the hospital" and "we should ask this swamp lady" or "this guy over there told me about this homoeopathic healer kind of guy but he got abducted" or "this random bard wants to help" and "I'm not going to dial 911 because I don't want the government to know my home address" or "maybe we should consider a deal with Satan". And then a bunch of them KEEP consuming the chemical because it makes them "stronger". One guy might explode for unrelated reasons. You have a few days before this situation is getting critical and suddenly they're solving crime and doing general charity for the community.

And FOR SOME REASON you still try to help these idiots and you STILL want to help them get the cure even though they all keep insisting the "doctors" at the "hospital" might try to "kill them" and they don't have insurance. And you keep telling them to just. go. to. the. hospital. before the time runs out and you all die very horribly of a very treatable condition.

And also you're 22 in a foreign country and you're responsible for shepherding this gaggle of idiots who are all ranging anywhere from 24 to 240 years old.

Oh to be Stevie Nicks twirling onstage in 1977 (Rosebud Film 1977) ☽ [stevie gifs] ☽

Hey everyone, please consider buying the 2024 itch.io Palestinian Relief Bundle- it's 373 games, game-making assets, tabletop roleplaying games, zines, and comics for a minimum of just 8 USD! They have a goal of 100,000 USD, and as of the time I'm writing this post, they have 8 more days to reach it.

Link will be in the reblog!

never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱

Ladies I have another question for you....

What’s one thing you wish guy did while he was going down ?

keith ward's reynard the fox illustrations (via splog)

art student!reader x life drawing model!Eddie Munson

E 18+, so nsfw Words: 7048 read on ao3

find the sequel here

Paint It Black Summery: You’re frustrated with your latest work and look for distraction by attending the open life drawing class on what looks like a very ordinary Thursday. Eddie, the new model, is everything but ordinary but definitely a distraction.

CW/tags: characters somewhere in their twenties, meet-wild, smut, fluff, some sort of voyeurism/public erection, gets a little rough, unprotected sex, piv penetration, oral for everybody, v fingering, biting, love marks, talky sex, aftercare, art school bullshit, messy sex, artsy sex (I guess), love at first sight (I guess)

A/N: @edsforehead made me do it. (thank you so much)

comments and reblogs are so appreciated

The air is cold, stinging your cheeks as you ride your bike through a clear and crisp winter morning. It does wonders for waking you up and clearing your mind; you had spent way too long in your studio last night, hovering over this painting that just wouldn’t go the way you wanted. Inside your mind, you hoisted it off the wall to place it right in the middle of the room, a bucket of thick black paint in one hand, the other one dipping in until the medium reached your wrist. You drop down to your knees and get to work, blacking the wretched thing out one large swoop of your arm after another, sending hours of work into oblivion.

Oh my, it was so tempting. Your fingertips tickle with the urge to turn your frustration into something wild and rough and… simple.

But your Professor had sworn to make your life very hard if he ever got wind of you destroying one of your works again, so you followed the advice he had given you: You had decided to take a break. Do something different, something simple, something rewarding and easy to clear your mind to recharge your drained batteries.

So it is Thursday and you crawled out of bed after four measly hours of sleep to go to the life drawing class. You are early as always to get one of the good spots. The small auditorium is still empty except for your teacher who is busy untangling the cords of the various space heaters that will keep the model warm for the next hours.

“Ah,” he says as he sees you, “haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Yeah, been busy wasting paint.” You smile and walk down the steps of the middle aisle and drop your bag on the best chair: first platform, second chair on the right from the aisle. It had the perfect distance and angle and the top of the backrest of first row to put your feet on so you could rest your paper on your thighs and wouldn’t have to struggle through two hours and a half hours of numb feet.

“Good decision to waste some graphite instead today,” your teacher says and grins. “I’m excited to see your progress.”

You hum, unpacking your supplies. “Who’s the model today? Someone familiar?”

“No, actually, I finally could recruit someone new. He should already be here though. Maybe he has difficulties finding us.” The building was old and could be confusing if you never set foot in it before.

“He,” you say, sharpening your pencil. “Guess it’s my lucky day.”

Male models were rare - maybe two out of ten sessions - and you start to get excited about coming in today.

Your teacher climbs up the stairs past you, “I’ll go and see if he’s wandering around somewhere.”

 —

The room fills with students; you say your How are you?’s and What are you working on?’s and when the clock shows 9:37, you brace yourself for the session getting cancelled. Just then, the door opens and your teacher hurries down the stairs.

“Good morning everybody. Sorry for the delay, our model got lost in our hallways. Let’s hear: anybody working on something particular and has some requests for poses?”

You crane your neck up to the back of the room towards the overflowing coat rack while your teacher keeps going through the usual procedure.

The model’s back is turned and you see a long black coat being shrugged off of lean shoulders and underneath: more black. Black lines of ink meandering out of the sleeves of a black shirt; a harsh contrast against pale skin. Ringed hands come up to the back of his head to put the long dark wavy hair into a bun.

No! you plead internally, surprised by that strong reaction.

He chooses the far left aisle down, almost disappearing behind the rows of students but your eyes follow him with a burning curiosity as if you wouldn’t get the chance to look at him for hours in a moment. You shake your head and open your sketchbook to do just anything but stare. There was a difference between observing and staring and the latter wasn’t fucking appropriate inside this room.

“Everybody,” your teacher announces, “this is Eddie. Eddie has never done this before so be patient and just let him know if he’s moving too much.”

You look up and grind your teeth. This Eddie is fucking gorgeous.

“Uhm, hi!” he smiles into the room then looks back at your teacher. “So, uh, I just get naked or what?”

Everybody laughs, but you don’t. You’re taking a long slow breath.

“That’s the general idea,” your teacher grins. “You can put your things on that table in the corner and then just come back to this spot.”

But Eddie does not move to the mentioned corner, he simply pulls off his shirt and throws it the distance to the table. More tattoos come to light; all black, no color. He then kicks off his shoes and you watch his fingers as they open his belt and his fly, how they lodge into the hem of his black, frayed jeans and pull them down in one swoop. There are giggles as he throws the bundle, aiming at the table like he’s at the bowling alley, completely naked.

And then you realize, Eddie didn’t wear any underwear.

“The rings too, please.”

“Oh, sure.” He picks them off his fingers; one two three from one hand and one more from the other. Eddie looks at them on his palm for a moment and grins. “Nah, not gonna throw those.”

The class giggles again as Eddie takes two three long strides to the table to put his rings down carefully and prances back, taking his spot in the middle of the small platform surrounded by space heaters.

There is a soft crack coming from your lap and you look down to see that you had pushed your pencil to the paper so hard that you’d broken the tip.

—

It’s as always: a series of short poses to warm up. One minute, then three and up from there.

Except it is not like always. You're flustered, you’re hot and you spend way too long staring, not finishing any of the one-minute poses.

This has never happened to you before and you had been presented with a lot of good-looking people over the years but this guy was something else.

Three-minute poses and Eddie is slouched back in a chair, long legs spread, left arm resting on top of his head, the right one on his thigh. This was sinful. You just corrected the angle of his left thigh for the third time when you look up and find him looking right back at you. No lost glance into the distance over your shoulder, no: your eyes meet. And those eyes are big and dark and curious and he holds the gaze for several seconds before the timer beeps and announces the change of poses.

He’s not only beautiful and scorching hot but also incredibly adorable. He’s giddy between poses, shaking his arms and legs - and with that his cute little ass - bouncing on his toes and you start to think that holding still normally isn’t his forte. When he lies on his belly, soft gaze on the floor, he tries to stifle a yawn once, twice and only lets it out when he’s allowed to move again. You like his dedication.

Five-minute poses and you finally get into the flow; things start to make sense on the paper until you find him looking at you again. And not only that: he mouthes a small 'Hi'. You bite your lip and look down, feeling the looks of some of the students on you.

He’s cross-legged, leaning back, hands braced on the ground behind him. The angle is weird and it doesn’t help that the way his lean, inked chest moves every time he takes a breath makes you want to bite down on those sharp collarbones. You hold your sketchpad in your outstretched arms doing those quick back-and-forth glances to find out where to correct the mess when his eyes move back to you. Every time you meet his gaze makes your spine tingle more and more and you have to bite down on your lip again to not let a fucking noise slip from your mouth.

Ten-minute poses and your teacher has made it to you to give you some feedback. Nothing you hadn’t expected: you go about it too complicated, want to do too much in too little time, too much detail. Eddie is stretched out on his back and smirks towards the ceiling.

On the next round of feedback, he tells you to really look at Eddie’s hips. You get the angle wrong, it throws off the stance, and you know why all your stupid drawings look a little wonky: you try to avoid looking at his cock for too long. You never thought about a penis as a cock before in this class and it drives you up the walls seeing it twitch slightly while your teacher keeps explaining things you already know and you’re forced to stare at Eddie's crotch, knowing he's side-eying you and your flustered expression the whole. Damn. Time.

Eddie gets a brief pause to stretch and have some water and you want revenge. While his back is turned to you - shoulder blades rippling deliciously under his skin - you open the top two buttons of your blouse, sliding the collar off your shoulder.

One final five-minute pose before the session ends with a twenty-fiver and Eddie is crouched down with his knees pulled under his chin. He shuffles a little before he really settles, tilting his head slightly in a way that forces him to look in your direction unless he wants to lower his eyes to the floor for five minutes.

When he finally looks up, you’re waiting for him, head titled yourself exposing the side of your neck down to your shoulder where your bra strap is barely holding onto your skin.

Eddie’s eyes widen and you smile, tongue poking out just a little to lick your bottom lip before you focus on the paper in your lap to roughly map out the pose. You don’t linger on him while you draw, quick glances only, but you can feel his gaze heavy on you.

This sketch is turning out to be the best so far. You lean back a little, biting down on the back of your pencil and start rolling your shoulders. One gets stiff sitting like that for so long, so people stretch all the time and nobody will notice that you’re giving Eddie a little show. You tilt your head to the right and run a hand over the muscles in your neck, massaging the achy spot right beyond your skull for a moment. When you give in to look down at him, you do it from under your lashes, taking the pencil stuck in your mouth between two fingers and let your tongue play with it ever so slightly.

Eddie takes a deep breath; you can see it in the way his shoulders rise and his knees are pressed forward. You grin and he pulls up his brows and you can’t tell if he begs you to stop or go on.

Twenty-five-minute pose and the crowd demands him to stand.

“Twenty-five minutes of standing is ok?” your teacher asks Eddie, who hasn’t jumped up like a spring toy after the timer rang.

“Uhm, yeah,” he says, legs still drawn to his torso. “Sure thing, uh-hn.”

It takes him another beat to push himself up and come to a stand. Your eyes wander from the top of his cheeks, tinted in a pretty pink, down to those hips to find him not exactly half hard, but on a good way to it. You feel your eyes roll up.

Shit.

Your teacher instructs him how to stand, feet wider apart - a little more, perfect - arms crossed over his chest which too is now slightly pink. His biceps’ flex a few times as he waits for more instructions.

“Can you turn a little, to the left?” a guy in the top row asks and Eddie does.

“Like this?”

Like this you get him in a three-quarter-view and your heart is racing; will he look at you again or did you push it too far?

“Anything else?” your teacher asks and you want to bite down on your tongue but instead it’s moving and forming words.

“Can we have the hair down for this last one?”

Eddie’s head snaps up, catching you in the middle of your request. He pinches his eyes shut at the approval of your fellow students. Below the waist, he’s twitching again.

Loosening his hair tie, Eddie musses around in his dark waves with practised fingers until he seems satisfied with what he sees in the mirror across the room. You suppress a moan, breaking the tip of your pencil again. He’s not looking at you, this time choosing to turn down his eyes while his face points in your general direction again. You curse at yourself internally; you should have just gone to him after the session and slipped him your number or asked him if he was busy after this while the both of you were still flooded with whatever this was and—

Shit!

Whatever Eddie is thinking while not looking at you did not help with what was going on in his loins. That pretty cock was getting bigger: half-hard-hello! And judging by his current state, he was big. You involuntarily grind your hips on your chair and drop your pencil in the process. A groan escapes you, sounding much too pleasant for a case of dropped art supplies and you bend down to get it back. When you come up, brown eyes are waiting for you. There is a smile playing around them while his pretty pink lips are slightly pressed together. Thank god he doesn’t look mad or annoyed, only the blush giving away that something was going on.

You can’t help it, you’re biting your lip, eyes wandering between his face and his cock and his brows draw slightly together before he averts his eyes again, breathing a few times: deep and slow.

Deep and slow.

Holy shit you are throbbing and wet and all you can do is fake another stretch and while shuffling around, press your thighs together for a little bit of friction. You tilt your hips down slightly and the sensation is so good and welcome that your eyes pinch close and your back arches. The movement is jerkily and you stretch your arms over your head to conceal it, slowly opening your eyes again.

Eddie is watching. Eddie is hard.

You grab your pencil and start drawing the spectacle in front of you; concentration isn’t the right word for the sharp focus that settles over you. It’s fucking lust.

It’s not the first hard-on you’ve seen in this class, not by any means. It happens now and then and usually a slight blush from the model was the only reaction. But this wasn’t any hard dick: you did this. You did this to this gorgeous man and you wanted to capture this with your own hands. In case he just bolted right after the session, you would have something to remember this.

You’re leaning in, literally, sketch pad balancing on your knees and bent over your thighs you almost forget the additional loosened buttons on your blouse until you catch those eyes directed at your chest. Seems like Eddie figured the damage was done anyway so why hold back now?

And fucking hell was that precum glistening at the tip?

 This is when the timer starts announcing the end of class.

Eddie shoots you one final look, a sharp grin, a slight shake of the head, tips of his hair tickling his shoulders and hops off his little platform to get dressed.

“Holy shit,” says the guy next to you, leaning over. “Have you seen that dick?”

You huff a laugh that throbs in your pussy. “Hard to overlook.”

“Exactly,” he groans and picks up his things.

—

You look at drawings of Eddie of all kinds. They are all beautiful, even the bad ones. You rub your forehead catching that corny thought and look across the room where Eddie is talking to two people, gesturing to the drawings on the floor, laughing. The two of you are slowly moving towards each other. The journey consists of looking, talking: This is a good one! and That one is crap, right? and glancing to your right. You reach the row with your own stuff, groaning internally at how very off everything looks, everything but two.

Suddenly, a chest presses to your back and an arm sneaks past you to point at a drawing.

“That’s amazing.”

The explosion in your insides barely travels to your voice and you’re impressed with yourself. He even smells amazing. “Thank you.”

“Oh, that’s one of yours then?”

You turn to face him. The smile on his face is obscene.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Eddie.”

The smile shrinks a little and his nostrils flare with the air he pulls in. His voice is low and deep when he speaks. “You… uh, made that a very hard job to do.”

“I’m almost sorry,” you croon. His face is way too close; one uptilt of your head and you could bite his plush bottom lip.

“Don’t be,” he licks the spot you just imagined nibbling on. “I didn’t start it for nothing.”

You both jump when someone hijacks your moment. “Those detailed studies are really nice.”

“Yeah, right?” Eddie says with genuine enthusiasm. “Almost the only ones who got some of my tattoos…”

“Uhg, tattoos are hard in that short time, man and you know, not really anatomy.”

The exchange goes back and forth a little longer until Eddie loops his arm under yours and not so causally pulls you in the direction you’d come from under the disguise of looking at sketches.

“So, uh, what are you doing, like, right after this?”

“You, I hope.”

“Shit…” he shakes his head, hair falling into his face. “You’re killing me already… where do you want to go?”

You think about this for a moment, greedy and soaking through your panties you’re in no mood to wait much longer to have him naked again.

“I have a studio two corridors down…”

His brows shoot up. “You ahm…” he blurts out, then lowers his voice, “want to do me here at school?”

“Yes, Eddie… like the pretty little muse you are.”

—

His hand is warm in yours as you pull him along behind you through the hallway past your fellow students who throw curious glances over their shoulders.

Eddie catches up to your side and leans close to your ear, “Are you already wet for me? The way you moved on that chair…”

“Drenched,” you breathe against his neck and almost stumble over your own feet. Eddie sneaks his arm around you, keeping you steady.

“Easy, sweetheart. Let me be the one to bruise you, ok? I’ll do it in aaall the nice places.”

You stare at him, mouth hanging open.

“Promise,” he adds, tapping the tip of your nose, a devilish smile spreading on his face.

You drag him on and he laughs behind you until he catches up again. There is a brief moment where you leave him in the middle of the empty foyer to get your key from the doorman, interrupting his lunch break, praying to whoever deity will listen to your horny call that none of your studio mates is in there already. You almost moan when the guy hands the key to you and you bump into Eddie’s chest face first when you turn around in a hurry.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” he rasps, takes your face in his large hands and bends down to press a hot kiss to your mouth. Your fists close around the lapel of his coat as he licks along your teeth until your tongue finds him. The world around you feels vague and unimportant until the doorman behind you knocks against the glass of his booth.

“I don’t need to see this, folks.”

This time Eddie takes your hand and walks on. “Show me the way, babe, or I’ll have to hoist you up one of those windowsills… you people are doing performance art here, right?”

Eddie is mumbling filthy things at you the whole way down the empty corridor where your shared studio is the last room on the left. You try to fumble the key into the lock and drop it because Eddie is already busy bruising your neck. Pressed flat to your back he brushed your hair to the side and started sucking at the spot just below your ear, his hands sneaking around you, cupping your tits through your blouse. As you bend down to pick up the key, Eddie grabs your hips and rolls his own against you, almost pushing you into the door. You both laugh and he pulls you up by your waist.

“Sorry,” he chuckles as you finally unlock the door. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You let him inside and lock the door behind you.

“What’s your workspace?” he asks, already poking his nose into things. “No! Don’t tell me… it’s… this one.”

“How did you know?” you ask surprised, taking off your coat and fully unbuttoning your blouse while he looks at your work lined up on the wall, hand on his chin like a proper little art critic.

“Well, I saw your drawings and this stuff here… it has the same… Duktus?”

“Christ,” you moan and he looks at you. “That was so sexy.”

“Hey, you’re starting without me?”

Eddie rushes to you, hands instantly sliding inside your open blouse against your bare skin. His hands are rough, calloused in some places and the slight scratch is making you shiver in his arms. He pulls the fabric off of you and drops it to the ground. His coat falls next, then his shirt. Eddie hisses as you sink your teeth into his collarbone as soon as you have access to them.

“Too much?”

His eyes are lidded and so very dark as he shakes his head. “Just start pulling my hair too and you’ll never get rid of me again…”

“That a threat or another promise?” you purr as you open his belt and fly over the impressive bulge in his pants.

“Which one turns you on more?” You hook your fingers into his waistband and drop to your knees, pulling his pants down with you, making his breath hitch. “Oh, s-shit…”

This is the close-up you've been yearning for all morning. Fully hard and flushed a deep pink already; you wonder if it will feel as heavy on your tongue as it looks. You run a finger along the underside and it twitches again, bobbing up and down in front of your face. You lean in, stick out your tongue and give the swollen tip a lick that makes Eddie whimper above you.

Again you meet his eyes and the expression in them is so unexpectedly soft that you almost whimper too. Your cunt is clenching around horrible nothingness as you lick him again, flat tongue sliding along the underside, feeling a vein, tasting salt, watching those big brown eyes roll up and close as a moan escapes him.

“You’re gorgeous, holy shit.” You firmly grip his cock around the base and stroke him a few times, your mouth watering, before you close your lips around the tip, your tongue swirling in lazy circles around it. Eddie’s breath is uneven and laced with soft moans from his glistening parted lips while you softly play around with his cock. Every twitch of his face is a delight, the way his abdomen tenses when you press small kisses to the length of his shaft makes you swoon with adoration. You reach up one hand to trace up the lines of a tattoo on his ribcage and he catches it, pressing it flat against his chest. Eddie’s heartbeat pounds against your palm and you moan around his cock.

“Holy… fuck… I wanna watch you so bad but I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You can take it, big boy,” you say in a low voice. “Look at me.”

It takes him a few more seconds until he opens his eyes and looks down at you; the moment you lock eyes you take him down as far as you can. A string of loud but mostly intangible curses echoes through the large room as you suck him down again and again in long leisurely motions. Your lips stretched around his girth curl up into a smile when his hands look for something to hold onto in your hair and you place your index finger at the corner of your mouth without stopping your onslaught to signal him to keep the volume down.

“Sorry, ah fuck fuck FUCK… I’ll try… shit I’m balls deep in your mouth and still don’t know your name—”

You don’t want to stop, not even for the moment to tell him your name. There’s a big portfolio folder leaning against the wall and you point in the general direction before running your fingers through the dark curls around his base and up the trail to his stomach while he’s trying to figure out what you’re showing him, failing at his attempt to stay quiet.

Then he says it: your name, no, he moans it. And he doesn’t fucking stop.

Suddenly your abdomen is on fire and you have to pull back to catch your breath. But you can’t, not really, because Eddie has kicked off his pants the rest of the way, dropped to the floor and pushed you to your back to peel you out of your clothes.

The floor is cold under your ass and back and you thump your head a little as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to him.

“Shit, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, “keep manhandling me.”

Eddie grins like the devil himself and goes to work. He’s everywhere: kissing, lapping biting at your mouth, your jaw your neck your tits, his fingers pushed into your thighs and you know it will bruise. He’s keeping his promise, leaving wet tingling marks all over you, a purple trail of small galaxies. His fingers find your cunt, finally, and Eddie eats the moan out of your mouth.

“Shh,” he says with a cocky laugh, his forehead pressed to yours, two fingers circling your clit in dragging motions. “You’re loud, beautiful. You don’t want us to get caught before I had a chance to fuck you.”

“N-no… ahhh.” Two thick fingers slide into you and your muscles grip down hard at the sudden intrusion.

“Hi,” he grins down at you as if he wasn’t just pounding your g-spot out of nowhere and making you see stars.

You hold on to his face, grappling for purchase and finally wind your fingers into this wild tickling hair and pull.

“Jesus, finally!”

“I— I’m so close.”

“Keep holding on,” he groans and moves down your body, fingers stilling for a moment.

You keep your hands in his hair, pulling in frustration from the ebbing pleasure.

“Of course, you have the prettiest fucking pussy, you—“ he doesn’t finish his thought, diving in with his tongue to lap at your clit like he’d been starving for you his whole life.

You bite the back of your hand to keep from yelling out at the sight alone. His eyes meet yours, of course they do and he sucks one of your lips into his mouth.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie… what’s your last name?”

“Munson,” he mumbles against your core and keeps on feasting.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie Munson… ahhh don’t stop please.”

And he doesn’t. He gives you his fingers and his mouth, his eyes fixed on you— well, most of the time, he keeps looking to a spot behind you but you have no time to inquire as your legs start to tremble and everything inside you starts to tense and pulse and you’re coming apart under his mouth before you’ve really seen it coming.

Yeah, that guy was something else.

When you’ve come down he gently pulls his fingers from you and litters your thighs and belly with kisses. His fingers are sticky against your skin but a slight roughness remains.

Your head lolls against the floor while you’re still blissed out and Eddie still puts those feathery kisses to your skin.

“You… you’re a musician…” you drawl out.

He looks up. “Yeah! How do you know?”

You take his hand from your chest and lick your wetness from his fingers before you turn his palm to him, sliding a fingertip over the calloused skin.

“You like that?” he grins.

You let go of his hand and nod. “Something with strings?”

“Guitar. And vocals.”

“Fuck you, you’re way too hot as it is…” you squeeze him with your thighs and his eyes go to that spot behind you again before he kisses your chest.

“What do you keep looking at?” you wiggle and crane your neck. It’s that painting. The one that has been haunting you for weeks.

“Sorry,” he scrunches up his nose. “I don’t know, draws me in somehow… it’s… weird… sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be…” you say and pull him up to you, kissing him. “You’re right.”

“Yeah?” he glances over again. “Well, fuck… yeah… m’ not gonna lie to you it’s kinda terrifying.” You both laugh. The warmth in your chest only expands more.

“Want to slather me in paint and fuck me against it?”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he glances between your face and the canvas. “Yes? Fuck yes!”

He pulls you up and into a hungry kiss, his thick cock hard against your belly.

 “Is that stuff safe to use?” he points his chin to some paint tubes on the trolley in the corner.

“No, oh god, no. But…” you leave him to look for a large bottle of black paint letting out a triumphant ha when you find it. You turn around beaming. “This here is… and will wash out of hair with no problem.”

“Come here…” he curls his finger to beckon you to him. “And hand that over.”

“Is that turning you on?” you ask as you join him.

“You have no idea.” Eddie takes the paint from you and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling your back to his chest. “You’re so pretty already with all my marks on you.” He walks you over to the canvas that way, his lips pressed close to your ear.

You turn in his arm and reach for his cock, stroking him softly. “How do you want me?”

“Fuck if I know… gimme a second and don’t stop that.” He looks at the canvas, really thinking about this. You suddenly want to pull his hair again. “Hands above your head, babe,” he says, opening the bottle of paint and squirts a generous amount into his hand. “Keep them clean. You have to put me inside you.”

You lean against the canvas; it’s large, so large that your outstretched arms above your head just graze the wooden frame inside.

Eddie’s hands are dripping black paint as he grabs your hips, bends down and sucks your nipple into his mouth before he kisses up to the crook of your shoulder to suck on you once more. “One last one before I make a mess out of you.” The contrast between the warmth of his lips and the cool paint as he slides his hands up your sides to your ribs makes you squirm and whimper. Eddie steps back to look at his work.

“Fuck, I’m an artist.”

He grabs the bottle from the floor and gets more paint, letting it drip right to your tits before smudging with splayed fingers. You watch him, mesmerized. When he is satisfied, he spins you around and pats your thigh as a sign to widen your stance. You feel him shuffle behind you as he presses himself against you and your chest against the canvas.

“Ready?”

You reach down, fumbling in the air for a moment before you find him. “You ready?”

 “Ye—ahhhh, you little minx,” he groans as you line him up and push back on him half the way. He holds you steady and slides in the rest of the way breathing out a long low fuuuuck. Then he stills. “Are you holding your breath? You ok?”

You are more than ok and you let the air out, your forehead dropping against the canvas. “It was that or letting everybody in the building know I’m getting stretched real fucking good right now…”

He angles your hips back and pushes closer. “Yeah, you are… shit, you’re unreal.”

“And you’re big. Gimme a moment.”

“All the time you want, I’m cosy here.”

While you get used to the stretch, Eddie caresses your back, rubbing small circles up the sides of your spine.

“I have a show next Tuesday,” he says kissing your shoulder. “Would love to see you in the first row.”

“Wouldn’t miss it… I assume it’s something hard?” you wiggle your ass, making you both sigh.

“You like it hard?” he laughs. “Music, I mean.”

“I do.”

“’Course you do. Can I fuck you now? Please?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Before the paint dries.”

He starts slow, pulling out almost all the way and sliding back in till he bottoms out. Your front slides against the canvas blackening out parts of it in big splotches.

“How’s this?” He’s so careful it makes your throat feel tight.

“You feel in-incredible.” You push back, meeting his thrusts as he picks up the pace.

“You’re incredible, sweetheart.”

Then you’re just getting lost in each other. His movements get rougher, more confident as he thrusts into you. You feel him deep inside you lighting little fires everywhere. A hand presses to the canvas next to your head, an arm loops around your waist and you yelp as he sharply slams into you. You beg him to do it again but he’s already on it, relentlessly fucking you into the canvas. Most of the paint is dry now, it’s prickling on your skin. Eddie moans your name into your ear, squeezing your tits and you squeeze your muscles around his cock.

“Shhh, babe…” you chuckle after he cries out.

“Fuck you,” he laughs hoarsely into your hair.

You’re so close again and you slip your hand between your legs but Eddie stops and pulls your arm to your back. “No nono, shit, not-not like that…”

“Eddie…”

“Stay like that,” he says and pulls out of you, leaving you empty and confused. There is some shuffling and then he is back behind you. “Going to be cold.”

“What— uhn!”

Paint trickles onto your arched back, sliding down your spine and making you shiver. Eddie gives your ass a little smack and turns you around, crowding you against the canvas, and hoists you up by your thighs.

“Oh my god,” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck while he balances you out.

“Can’t do that all day but you’re close ‘n I wanna see that face when you come.” He leans you back to create some space between you. “Help me out, put me back inside you…”

You do as you’re told and you clench your thighs hard around his hips as he starts up almost at the same pace he stopped. He kisses you, so sloppy so wet you feel a string of spit between your mouths when he pulls back again to hook his arms under your knees and spreads you open so wide that you’re crying out his name.

“I got you,” he assures you, pounding into you at a new angle, so deep it makes you dizzy. “I got you, you can juuust fall apart…”

The noises you two are making where you’re joined are obscene.

“Holy shit,” you moan, “li-listen… those sounds.”

Eddie drops his head to your shoulder, sweat dripping from his forehead onto you. “Like fucking music…”

You laugh. “Fucking music indeed.”

“God, you’re perfect,” he presses out through a laugh and really leans into you. You grab a thick strand of hair and pull as your insides begin to tense.

“Oh… oh shit, don’t stop.”

The world tilts as he leans you back again. “Wouldn’t dare… touch yourself for me, I need to feel you come around me.”

“Come inside me, yeah?” you rasp as you circle your swollen throbbing clit.

His eyes bore into yours, the strain and pleasure all over his face. He’s a mess as much as you are. “Come on, darling… come for me… I want you to run through my fingers.”

And you swear you do: your head thumps against the wood frame as your muscles try to create a black hole or whatever happens under so much pressure, but who cares when this stupidly perfect man fucks you through the hardest orgasm anyone ever had while looking at you like he was fulfilling his fucking destiny. You can’t hear him over the blood rushing through your ears, but he looks so pretty with his nose scrunched up, a streak of black paint running over the bridge and his eyes shut tight. A few more thrusts and he collapses against your chest with stuttering hips, pinning you so hard against the wall that it drives the air out of you.

There is only breathing, hot air from his lungs against your tickling skin. You cup the back of his head and stroke his hair; he nuzzles deeper into your skin and makes a noise that sounds like fucking home.

“I need to put you down now… sorry.”

He puts you down but doesn’t let go. Kisses cover your face until you cup his cheeks and claim his mouth while he’s dripping down the inside of your thighs.

Then you giggle together, Eddie squeezing your ass with both hands, smiling at you so silly and soft. You’re thirsty, you let him have the bottle first and he gulps the water down, spilling down his chest, creating little rivers of paint that let the ink show through. You want to study those lines up close without twenty people around you, without the blinding fire of lust, but calm, taking your time asking questions.

“What’s going on up there?” he asks, tapping a finger against your forehead.

“I wanna study you some more,” you say, taking the bottle and down what’s left.

He doesn’t ask you what you mean, only tilts his head and smiles. Then he sits down in that worn-out armchair your mate had dragged in a few months ago, still naked, it isn’t time to cover up yet and you find a clean enough rag, climb into his lap and clean the paint off his face as gently as you can.

“Stop,” he grabs your hips, “do you have a camera or something?”

You do and the timer takes too long for you two not to start fooling around before the soft click of the shutter sounds. One more and one more and the film has only two more left and he pulls you in to kiss you just before the camera rewinds.

“You want to join me when I make the prints?”

“You, red light and chemicals?” he grins. “It’s a date.”

The painting is dry already; Guache dries rather fast, you explain to him. It’s itchy, he adds and scratches his chest, small flakes of black falling down to the floor. You sit in front of both your work, your head against his shoulder and your fingers fumbling with a strand of his hair that is stiff with paint.

“You know,” he says, “it would have made a damn good record cover before…”

“You can have a picture… I document every night before I go home.”

“Really? I mean, the picture?”

You brush sweaty hair off his forehead, “I’m sure it’s in good hands with you.”

He almost shoves you over when he kisses you, the giddy streak you saw earlier during class showing when he chuckles and licks your cheek like a puppy.

“It looks really good now though, don’t you think?”

“You’re just horny,” you laugh.

“What? You don’t like our work?” he pouts and this shouldn’t pull at your heart that much.

“I do,” you kiss the pout, “I was just teasing.”

“I mean it,” he looks at the canvas, “It’s a bit crooked and dented now, but that just adds to the charm.”

 “It has nothing on you though when it comes to charm.” You lean in with a sultry smile and his palm cups your breast and then—

A knock on the door. “Come on, you still fucking in there? I need to work.”

You look at each other with large eyes and break out laughing, scrambling for your clothes. Eddie hisses sharply when you slap his ass just before he pulls up his jeans and you forgo the bra because one strap did not survive Eddie’s enthusiasm. There is paint sticking out of his collar that you couldn’t clean before your photo shoot and you remember to put the film in your pocket while he kisses your temple because he seems to can’t help himself but stay close to you.

“Ready?” you ask and he grabs your hand and nods, following you out.

“Finally,” your mate says, but smiles when she sees you. “Aren’t you that new model?”

“Muse,” he grins without further explanation.

You hand her the key, mouth a small sorry and admit it when she calls you out on your lie.

His hand is warm in yours, his thumb playing with your knuckles as you walk back through the hallway.

“So,” he says, “we gonna shower at your or my place?”

Reclining Nude by Luis Ricardo Falero (1879)

how long have you had feelings for me?

what's a kiss between friends?

would it make things weird between us if i kissed you right now?

Daisy Jones

would it make things weird between us if i kissed you right now?

what's a kiss between friends?

how long have you had feelings for me?

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

While you much preferred the company of little Julia in comparison to most of the people partying downstairs, once the baby had dozed back off in your arms, you decided it'd be better to set her back down in her crib and let her sleep properly. You gave your niece a peck on the forehead, smiling gently when she stirred and quietly exiting the nursery before she could wake up and start fussing again. 

The party downstairs had grown packed with all sorts of people you had no real interest in. Producers, managers, up-and-coming singers or actors, and just about anyone deep in the music industry. Many were friends or aqquantices of your sister's husband, Billy Dunne, and his band, and as much as you wanted to enjoy the party, you hardly trusted Billy around the booze being poured in every corner. Camilla assured you at every moment that he'd changed, that he swore off the drugs and beer and women. But the only thing you saw when you looked into his eyes was the memory of your sister weeping in her hospital bed with Julia in her arms because her husband had failed to show up. It filled you with nothing but anger and disgust. 

You slipped outside into the backyard and dug around in your coat pocket for your pack of cigarettes and lighter. It felt better standing outside instead of the stuffy, smoke-filled rooms inside. You stuck a cigarette between your lips and fiddled with the lighter until it flickered on long enough to light it. You barely had time to inhale before it was snatched from your lips.

"You mind?" The spunky redhead asked, already holding the cigarette between her lips. Her eyes crinkled with amusement and she took a deep inhale before dragging it from her lips and exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. "I was looking for you everywhere, you know."

"Oh, yeah? Why's that, Daisy Jones?" 

The first time you'd met the redheaded singer otherwise known as Daisy Jones, it'd been in the studio when Camila had sent you over to bring lunch to everyone. You never kept up with the band so the new face had come as a surprise but from then on, you found yourself bumping more and more into Daisy Jones. She seemed to pop up out of thin air with her wild mane and chatterbox tendencies. You preferred her over Billy, and her rivalry with him only amused you, but she still reminded you of him. She drank too much, popped too many pills, and did too many lines. Her body fought hard to keep her alive, that was for sure.

"I don't know," She admitted with a shrug, a smile stretching across her face. "I just like your company, I guess."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Daisy giggled softly under her breath, running her finger over her bottom lip as the last bit of smoke left her mouth. She swiped her tongue over her drying lips and tilted her head, her big blue eyes gazing over your face. "Would it make things weird between us if I kissed you right now?" 

"What?" You laughed in surprise. 

Shrugging, Daisy wrapped her lips around the cigarette again, staining it with her lipstick before pulling back again. "What's a kiss between friends?" She laughed that time, nearly coughing on the smoke and breaking out into nervous giggles. Daisy looked away from you and wrapped her fingers around one of her swinging hoop earrings.

"Depends. Are we just friends?" You asked lightly, biting back a chuckle when her head snapped back toward you, eyes widening even further. Her cheeks darkened with a soft pink. Gotcha. "Daisy Jones... how long have you had feelings for me?"

You matter to me

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by @itzajeanspears — Hi!!! Love your writing so much!! Not sure if you’re still doing requests lol, butttt I have a really specific one so if you’d be able to do this I’d like actually die omg. Okay so I’m a fashion student from LA and I was thinking, the reader is like basically siblings with billy and Graham, (her dad and their mom started dating when they were kids so they were practically raised together) but she’s closest with Eddie in particular. They’re best friends. They’ve basically been attached at the hip since they were kids. They’re both secretly harboring feelings for each other and everyone knows it but themselves. She’s been there for them since the band started, like Camilla, making them outfits for gigs and stuff. and Eddie even takes her to prom when her date ends up being a jerk to her. Butttt the reader ends up moving to LA to go to fashion school (maybe eventually she can be their costume designer for the aurora tour 🙏) and Eddie slowly stops talking to her god knows why. Fast forward- The band moves out to LA and they stay with her until they’re stable enough to be out on their own. The tension is super high between her and Eddie and EVERYONE notices. Super Angsty. Ends in fluff and love confessions 🫶 maybe angry billy lol. AGAIN THANK YOU!!! I know that was super complicated. YOUR WRITING AND EDITS ARE AMAZINGGGG !!

✧.* you're reading part two, here's the part one — A letter?

✧.* summary — Eddie was waiting for your response, and when it never came... A wall was built between you.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 3.5k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I know it took me forever!!! I'm so sorry, please enjoy! And let me know your thoughts about it :)

I have no idea how to start this, my head has been a mess since our last conversation. I'm sorry for the way I left, I should've been more polite involving all we've been through in the last couple of months. I confess that I don't understand why you thought I couldn't support you in this situation, I've seen you dreaming about this day since I was ten years old, where we chatted about school and unattainable plans for the future… Seeing you achieve everything you dreamed of is like being hit by a ray of sunshine, I am deeply proud of you.

I wish you all the best on this new journey in your life, you are great and your talent is not left behind! Know that you wouldn't be there if it weren't for all your extraordinary talent. There is something in everything you do that exudes originality and no one can take that away or dispute it from you.

I decided to respect your choice and not go to see you on the day of your departure, I confess that this is demanding a lot from me, but I do everything to see you well. I hope you have a great trip and a great life there too.

I don't want to lie to you, I really hope you write me back, I have a huge hope that you'll give me another chance and we can work things out... I'll understand if you don't want that, I just want you to keep in mind that I love you. Fly towards your dream, and when you miss home, maybe my words will warm your heart.

Yours, Eddie Roundtree.

The bassist seals the letter with trembling fingers, he knew you would leave tomorrow and he still had his doubts about what he was going to do.He wanted to come see you before the match, kiss you gently, hug you as if you were going to escape at any moment... But he couldn't, if that was your choice he would respect that.

He knocks on the Dunne house three times, his hands trembling as he waited impatiently with the letter in hand.

"Eddie? What are you doing here so early my dear?" Mrs Dunne's sweet voice asks, she was quiet, probably because she was the only one awake in the house.

"I— I came to give this to Y/N." He extends the paper to her, confused, the older girl takes the object.

"Do you want to come in?" She asks, opening the door for him.

"No no, thank you." He seemed nervous, afraid that you would show up at any moment. "I really just came to leave this"

The madness was crazy the morning you were going to leave, you waited in secret for Eddie, a hope that he would appear was growing in you even though you wanted to kill it. Everyone else had made a point of saying goodbye, even Warren had stopped by to leave you some chocolate for the flight, but nothing from your boyfriend.

That's what you were, right? After all, there was no ending, not formally in so many words... Anxiety made you fear that when he left that had been your final point.

You open your arms to hug your considerate mother, Mrs. Dunne had been very present to you since she came into your life and saying goodbye was harder than you thought.

"I'll miss you so much." Her choked voice says, and you hold her closer.

"Oh honey, I'll miss you too." She answers, still holding you. "Anytime you need us, you just have to call. You have a family here."

At this point you were already in tears, and you let the hug go to wipe them away.

"Look." She starts to say, opening her bag to hand you something. "Eddie asked me to give you this."

Your eyes widen, you take the letter in your hands and leave for your new life.

…

You open the drawer of the nightstand next to your bed and return the letter to the place it always rests still not being able to open it, a sigh leaves you as you relive the night you had just had. Now that you were in the same city everything was more vivid, it was like living your teenage years again and it was frustrating. Of course you missed your friends and your brothers, but feeling Eddie's look at the back of your head was a huge distraction that kept increasing many questions in the same.

Eddie let the air out of his lungs as his body collapsed onto the bed he had fought for hours with Warren for, He lights a cigarette while staring at the ceiling and gradually sees the smoke draw your face, He hated how all the feelings he had put so much effort into hiding returned like the tide flooding over him, it was frustrating how you could make his heart race in a way no drug could ever manege to.

He knew that maybe all he had to do was just get over it, and that's all he was trying to do since you left Pittsburgh and him. Eddie was never the kind to get attached to relationships easily, he was used to having one night stands or just casual dating, so when his heart was captured by your gaze and the funny feeling of falling in love... He didn't know what to do.

The cigarette had come to an end and sleep had not even threatened to arrive, Roundtree sits on the bed regretting it before even finishing what he planned to do. He might not have talked to you during the party, but he was a good listener, something he didn't know if it was a blessing or curse until then.

He puts his leather jacket over the blouse he had worn to the party he attended hours ago, also grabbing some cigarettes before going down the stairs of the new house towards the keys to Rojas' van. He considers going to the drummer's room to tell him that he had borrowed the vehicle, but settles for writing a note in letters large enough for him to notice while he looks for it.

He let in his breath once again, shaking his head as he starts the van and heads towards what haunts his mind.

...

The three rings on the door make you lazily get out of bed, your arms go to the blouse thrown on the table before answering.

"Eddie?" You say between shock and yawn, your hands fix your hair automatically.

He avoids your gaze, looking directly at the ground as if he is very anxious. You wait for an answer, but nothing comes out of his mouth, you take a step forward taking his hand and leading him inside.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, after you both sit at the table in your living room.

"I don't know." He lets it out, wondering if he should actually do what he had planned. "I wanted to talk to you about everything."

"In the middle of the night?" You let out a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

"I couldn't sleep, sorry I woke you up." He looked embarrassed, but it was as if being there was more comfortable than anything he had been doing before knocking on the door.

"We can talk, no problem.”

"With us moving here I imagine we'll see each other more often than we have over the years." He looks you in the eyes, the red of the cigarette in them. "And I don't want there to be a fight between us, I don't want there to be things that aren't clear."

You let the air out, trying to look as if you were mature for this situation. "What do you mean by that?"

"Even with our history, is everything ok between us?" He wanted to tell you that the answer was no, that he hadn't forgotten you, but it stayed in his throat just like the growing knot.

"For me yes, but for you I'm not sure." You are honest, letting the frustration go with your words. "You were the one who ignored me the whole party, I felt seventeen again."

"You don't need to be sarcastic." He says rolling his eyes.

"Since when do you call the truth sarcasm?" He arches his eyebrows at your response, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "What I meant is that I'm over it, I just don't know if you are."

"You know what..." He gets up, adjusting his jacket on himself. "I think we've cleared that up, let's just be polite to each other and that's it. I see you around."

"You're kidding right?" A mocking laugh is let out by you, disbelief shines through. "Is that what you consider resolution?”

"I'll see you around." He says, you get ready to close the door. "Let's just keep things between us, like before."

Your eyes roll back and you slam the door shut, anger and confusion rising in your chest. How can he just show up in the middle of the night to turn your life around like that? You only feel the tears when they fall on your arm, was it frustration? You preferred to believe so, but seeing him treat you with so much indifference was painful.

Still angry, you go to the nightstands and open the drawer to take the letter in hand. Your vision blurred with emotions growing, you tear it apart and as soon as the first cut is made the rest are just a trigger for the pieces on the floor. You cry, regretting it and at the same time wanting to disappear... It hadn't even been twenty four hours since he had returned to your life and everything was chaos.

You collect the pieces and place them inside the box you found, trying your best not to glue the pieces together to read something that could be your answer.

...

You had done a good job of trying to forget about Eddie Roundtree, you had gone out with a few people and avoided running into him as much as possible when you met the band. But that became impossible when his brother went to rehab and his niece was born.

You moved into their house to help with the baby, Camila had never been so vulnerable and you couldn't feel more angry at Billy than in those first few months. Of course, you knew he wasn't one hundred percent to blame, addiction wasn't easy and it made you very sad to know he was like this.

Your move wasn't complete, you slept there some nights and other nights you went back to your house or studio to create some pieces of clothing. It was hard to face Eddie every day, but you two made a point of avoiding each other as much as possible.

It was hard to remember why you didn't like Eddie much when he was being so kind every day by your side, you start to remember why you fell in love with him in the first place. He was kind, funny, he helped everyone, but he was still the one that left you. And that was certainly the impasse for you to sympathize with him once again.

Night fell on the horizon as you leaned over the counter, a cigarette between your lips as you thought about everything at the same time.

"I see you still like the sunset, sunshine." The nickname makes your spine shiver, you don't turn around, you just let him get closer to you. "It always reminds me of you."

The chill comes to your belly, you turn away in disbelief. "What are you doing?"

He rolls his eyes, “Trying to get along with you, is it that hard?"

You let out a sigh, avoiding his eyes. "You want us to be friends?"

"What's the harm on that?" he asks, resting himself.

You shrug, trying your best not to ask every single question that haunted you over the years.

"You made yourself pretty clear that day in my place." That's all you say.

"Why are you acting like I'm a bad guy?" He's confused, upset in his eyes.

"You can't just keep doing this to me, appearing in my life and just leaving me!" You let out your frustrations, he looks at you without understanding. His gaze fixed on your eyes was overwhelming.

"What do you mean?" His voice was trembling, he took a deep breath. "Look, I know I acted childish that night, I shouldn't have just popped at your place and said those things. But I mean what I'm doing right now, I made one mistake... You're really going to blame me for the rest of my life?"

"One mistake?" You tried your best to hold back your urge to cry. "Look Eddie, it's been a long time. I understand if you forgot everything we've been through, I don't want to..."

"You're acting like I didn't care for you. Like I don't care." His voice was calm, it left you disconcerted.

"How can you say that you care for me if you haven't even reached for me all these years?" You turn to face the sky, trying to keep calm.

"I was respecting you!" He avoided coming closer, even though he wanted to take your hand in his. "I told you that! I—...

He stops when he sees your confused eyes, concern takes over his.

"You didn't read the letter, did you?"

You swallow hard, he waits for your answer but you open your mouth and close it without saying anything.

"Did you receive it?" He asks, you nod your head. "I don't understand..."

"I never read it." You confess, looking at your feet.

"Why?" He felt exposed, hurt.

You don't answer, he seems devastated.

"Fuck." He says passing his hands through his hair. "I can't believe this."

He left, leaving you alone with the sunset.

You made a point of coming home that day, there was no way you wouldn't go back to read that letter, your heart was aching with all the emotions that came up this afternoon. You were overwhelmed and feeling guilty, but at the same time confused... You needed answers.

When you managed to put the pieces together it was difficult to tell what was there, but your body softened and your heart tightened. There was your answer.

...

Daisy Jones was responsible for the band's growth after Billy's relapse, 'Honeycomb' was a masterpiece and the whole world knew it when those chords sounded on the radio. You were happy and proud for all of them, it was great to see them all achieving a dream that you followed from the beginning.

You were really excited to go on tour with them, You had already made many different pieces and I'm really looking forward to seeing them using what you created for them from the beginning. Today was the day of the first show, if you weren't even going to be on stage, you were nervous, you couldn't imagine how they were.

You couldn't contain the tears of emotion when you saw them there, the fans screaming excitedly and a long-time dream coming true, it was an amazing feeling and you were so happy to be part of this somehow.

It wasn't easy to deal with the information about the last situation you had with Eddie, of course, Billy had returned and you had spent less time together but that whole scene never left your mind. You tried to expel the flashes as much as possible while pretending to listen to what Camila was saying.

"Swetie, are you paying attention to me?" She says between a laugh, the music from the celebration party made it hard to hear her.

"Aham." You lie, watching Eddie talk to Warren and another girl you didn't know a few steps away. Camila follows your gaze, and turns with an arched eyebrow.

"What's going on?" She asks, her voice softly.

"I feel like I'll never be able to leave what we had behind me." You felt the words leave your mouth with honesty for the first time in a while.

"Have you told him that?" She asks, looking between you and him.

"I'm pretty sure he hates me, so..." You let out a breath, trying to hold back your tears.

"Eddie could never hate you Y/N."

"How can you be so sure?" You take a sip of your beer, avoiding looking at the distant group.

"Oh honey, if you only knew how many times he told me how he felt... How many songs I heard—

"Songs?" You cut her off, holding her arm. "He wrote songs about me?"

"Many." She responds, stroking his hand with a motherly affection. "You should talk to him."

You gather all your strength to follow her advice, and little by little you get closer to them. Warren is the first to notice you, waving in a comical way for you to come closer, Eddie avoids your eyes, the girl greets you with a small smile.

"Hey guys, the show was amazing." They smile at your congratulations. "I'm really proud of you guys."

"Thank you sunshine." Eddie says, almost regretting using the nickname. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay." You say under your breath. "Look, can we talk alone for a second?"

"Sure." He turns to Rojas and the curly-haired woman. "I'll be right back."

Automatically you take his hand and guide him to a more private place, it's a few seconds of silence before you know how to start. He doesn't rush you, he just waits for you to feel good to begin with what you had planned.

"I read your letter." That's all you can say, he swallows hard. "I'm sorry it took me so long..."

"It's okay, it doesn't matter anymore." He tries to say, but you cut him off.

"It does! It matters and you know it." Tears manage to fill your eyes. "We matter for each other, you matter to me... And I don't know about you, and I know it's probably too late but I can't forget you."

He takes a step closer to you, never taking his eyes off of you. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I love you." A choked laugh comes out of you, it was impossible to contain it all longer.

"Fuck." He holds your face in his hands, touching your foreheads together. "Please, don't mess with me." He jokes.

"I'm done building this wall between us." Her voice was honest, her eyes never stopped staring into his. "I just want to be with you."

He kisses you, a kiss you've missed for years, a connection of souls, an inexplicable feeling. His hands cupped your cheeks and caressed your skin, you pulled him close to feel him after so long. He would always be your point of comfort.

"I love you too." He whispers against your lips, your eyes closed. "I love you so fucking much."

"I know it took a while but I kind of want to stay with you." You joke, he lets out a laugh.

"We can tell our children that we've been dating all this time, they don't need to know about this hiatus" He says while caressing your hair.

"Children?" Rojas' voice made you jump in fright. "Damn, you guys are emotional, huh?"

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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Detail from An allegory of sculpture and architecture by Thomas Germain Joseph Duvivier

Joseph Tomanek (1889–1974) American

Three Bathers

Marcel RIEDER (1862-1942) - Jeunes femmes sur la lande au clair de lune

Symbolist triptych, 1887 by Clément Mère

Study for Day and The Dawnstar by Herbert James Draper (20th Century)

Gates of Dawn,  Herbert James Draper, 1900

Thomas Edwin Mostyn (English, 1864-1930)

Womanhood

series

virgin!eddie | part i // ii // iii // iiii // v // vi | smut | x reader | 13.9k

oneshots

i get off | smut | x reader | 1.4k

hysteria | smut | x reader | 3.2k

she's got the look | smut | x plus size!reader | 2.1k

don't you want me baby | smut | x plus size!reader | 2.3k

living dead girl (kas!eddie) | smut/noncon | x reader | 3.7k

knocking on heavens door | smut | x reader | 1.7k

lay your hands on me | smut | x reader | 3.9k

the sex is good | smut | x reader | 3.7k

'what're you wearing?' | smut/phone sex | x reader | 2k

'you're cute when you beg' | smut | x reader | 1.5k

'you wanna get cucked by steve?' | smut | eddie + steve x reader | 2.1k

two for the price of one | smut | eddie + steve x reader | 1.3k

'you want some help with that?' | smut | eddie + steve x reader | 2.8k

this must be the place | smut | eddie + steve x reader | 8.6k

like a secret in your throat | smut | eddie x steve | 1.1k

isn't that so sad | angst/mental health | eddie x steve | 1.9k

blurbs

'go on, what else would i like?' | smut | x reader | 1k

'are you that easy for me?' | smut | x reader | 1.7k

'those are gonna be hard to cover up' | smut | x reader | 1.1k

'i bet i could make you squirt' | smut | x reader | 1.1k

'same time tomorrow?' | smut | x reader | 1.1k

'you'll take what i give you' | BULLY!EDDIE smut | x reader | 1.6k

'dunno, eddie. i feel funny.' | BULLY!EDDIE smut/piss kink | x reader | 1.1k

'sorry? too little too late.' | BULLY!EDDIE smut/dubcon | x reader | 1.1k

'i need to see you cum.' | VIRGIN!EDDIE smut | x reader | 1k

grower not a shower | smut | x reader | 1k

eddie & steve dp | smut | eddie + steve x reader | 1.5k

virgin!eddie watching porn | smut/phone sex | x reader | 1.2k

rockstar!eddie signing your tits | smut | x reader | 1.2k

drabbles

'who's the desperate idiot now?' | smut | x reader | 672 words

'tell me, was he as good as me?' | smut/dubcon | x reader | 1k

save a horse, ride a cowboy | smut | x reader | 503 words

'your perfect little nose' | smut | x reader | 248 words

'fucking hate you, munson' | smut | x reader | 557 words

'you think bad girls deserve to cum?' | smut | x reader | 866 words

'shit sweetheart, didn't see you there.' | smut | eddie + steve x reader | 730 words

'so desperate you couldn't wait, huh?' | smut | x reader | 495 words

‘s’not all gonna fit is it?’ | smut | x reader | 945 words

'oh shit, sorry, m'gonna-' | smut | x reader | 246 words

eddie fucks fat girls | smut | x reader | 362 words

eddie 'minuteman' munson | smut | x reader | 200 words

edging eddie until he cries | smut | x reader | 847 words

perv!eddie likes to make you squirt | smut | x reader | 246 words

modern day!eddie + reddit | fluff | x reader | 449 words

eddie + sick reader | fluff | x reader | 537 words

'i never thought you could hurt me like this' | angst | x reader | 630 words

'here comes the airplane' | fluff | x reader | 266 words

'i was gonna knock your socks off' | fluff | x reader | 461 words

eddie and your daughter | fluff | x reader | 383 words

eddie finds out you're pregnant | angst | x reader | 659 words

updated january 14th '24

Eddie Munson vibes

Safe hands

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Sex has never been a pleasant experience for you. Selfish partners, anxiety, and pain have all ruined something that you should enjoy. You’re convinced there’s something wrong with you, but Eddie is determined to prove otherwise. 6k.

18+ minors dni: soft smut, oral (f receiving), mention of oral (m receiving), fingering, protected piv, praise kink (because of course there is), reader has anxiety around sex and there’s mentions of pain during intercourse. Pet names used in place of Y/N.

A/N: I know I should be working on the dozen other wips I have gathering dust, but this self-indulgent idea popped into my head and I couldn’t shake it out. So enjoy this very soft and tender smut 🖤

You’d known for a while that this day was coming. As much as you’d hoped there’d be someway to avoid it, it was inevitable that you and Eddie would find yourselves here.

It’s frosty outside. You can see the tiny sparkles of it decorating the edges of the window in Eddie’s room. The last cold snap of those long dark months, winter clinging on by its fingertips, refusing to give over to the warmth and softness of spring.

But it’s hot in the trailer. The air is humid and heavy, heat clinging to your skin, despite the layers that have been stripped away.

Eddie burns over you. Like when the sun disappeared from the sky he’d swallowed it whole, the star glowing white hot in his chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers against your neck.

Your own chest feels tight, his words spoken with such soft adoration you could weep. He raises his head enough to flash you that boyish grin that you love, his lips stretched wide with it. Your fingertips trace over the dimple in his cheek.

Eddie’s hands can’t keep still. He grabs at you greedily, but still gentle, rough palms gliding over smooth skin. Cups the weight of your breasts, kneading over the cotton of your bra. He’d pulled your jumper up over your head as soon as the bedroom door was closed, giggling at the static crackling in your hair. His shirt was next to go, followed by your jeans, left in a crumpled heap on the carpet.

His pillows are soft beneath your head, your body pressed into the mattress by his weight laying over you. Thighs parted so he could slot himself between. There’s a heat blooming between your legs, made worse when the hard length that strains beneath his boxers catches there with each slow roll of his hips. As the pleasure grows, so too does your anxiety.

“There’s something wrong with you.”

The snarling voice is so clear, you find yourself turning your head, glancing around Eddie’s room. Of course there’s no one here but the two of you.

But you can still hear him. See the curl of his lips when he’d spat those words with such disdain.

Your last partner had initially thought he’d won the jackpot.

A girl who was more than happy to get on her knees for him, put his pleasure above all else, expecting nothing in return. But of course he’d wanted more from you. More than you could give him.

You’d grit your teeth and tried to relax, tried so desperately to let it happen. After a few tension filled minutes of awkward shuffling and frustrated grunts, he’d rolled off of you, snatching up his clothes from your bedroom floor.

You’d cried. Apologised. Pleaded with him to stay.

“There’s something wrong with you.” He’d said, as he slammed the door closed behind him.

“Hey.”

You blink. Pull your gaze away from the bedroom door, back to Eddie’s face. He hovers over you, eyes round with concern, brows pinched in the middle.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs.

“Yeah. M’fine.” You lie.

“You sure?” Eddie smoothes his hand across your brow, sweeping down to cup your cheek.

“Do you want to stop?”

Yes.

“No. Of course not.” You reply.

You pull him in by his shoulders, pressing his lips to yours. It’s a poor attempt at a distraction. You just can’t bear to have Eddie looking at you like that. Like he can see beneath the mask you’ve been so careful to keep in place.

You kiss him deeper, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Eddie makes a surprised sound when your hand snakes down between your bodies, reaching for the tent in his underwear.

“H-hang on. Just stop for a second, okay?” Eddie says. He pushes your hand away.

“What did I do?” You whisper.

“Nothing. It’s just.. sweetheart, you’re shaking. And you look like you’re gonna burst into tears.”

Shame twists your guts. You can feel the heat prickling your eyes, Eddie’s features blurring.

“I’m fine.” You say unconvincingly.

“Look, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Eddie says. He sits up on his knees, putting distance between you.

“I want to.” You say quickly.

“Doesn’t really seem like it. You keep looking at the door like you wanna fucking bolt.” Eddie says sourly.

He knows he shouldn’t snap at you. But it’s so hard when all of his insecurities and fears are rearing their heads once again. He’d convinced himself things might be different this time.

You weren’t using him, not after cheap weed or satiating some curiosity about whether the rumours about the freak were true. You were sweet, patient, seemed so genuinely interested in all the things that made Eddie Eddie.

But now you looked like you’d rather be anywhere but here with him.

Your quiet sob makes his chest ache. You clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds, tears steadily leaking down your cheeks and wetting his pillows.

“Hey. I’m sorry, please don’t cry.” Eddie says, that usual warmth returning to his voice. He takes your wrists and gently pulls you up, holding you to his chest as you cry.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? You know you can talk to me, right?” He says.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m ruining everything.” You sob.

“Shhhh. Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” Eddie cups your cheeks and tilts your head back, forcing you to look at him.

“Can you just talk to me? Tell me what’s going on in your head?” He pleads.

“I’m scared.” You admit quietly.

“What are you scared of?”

“Of.. of not being good, at all this.” You say, weakly waving your hand between your bodies.

“Of not being good enough at this for you.”

“Sweetheart, I really don’t think you need to worry about that.” Eddie says with a soft smile.

“I want you, I want to do this with you. If you’re not… experienced, that doesn’t matter. We’ll just figure things out as we go.”

You shake your head. He wasn’t getting it.

“N-no. It’s more than that. I - I can’t. I’ve never-.” Your breathing was now coming in quick pants, panic coursing through your veins. Your body trembles more violently.

“It’s alright, just breath.” Eddie says calmly.

“It hurts Eddie.”

“What hurts?”

“Sex. Every time I’ve had sex before it hurts. It’s like my body just won’t let me relax, I get so in my head and I go all tense.”

Eddie’s brows dart up in surprise, but now the words have started to flow out you’re powerless to stop them.

“The first time I thought it was normal. But then it just kept happening, every time. And some guys like it, y’know, they say it’s good that I’m tight, but it never feels good for me. And last time.. the last time I tried to do this with someone, I was so wound up, I just couldn’t. He couldn’t get it in. And I was trying to relax, and he was pushing and pushing and it’s like my body just wouldn’t let it happen. And so he left. He said there’s something wrong with me. And he’s right - I’m broken!”

Eddie’s been staring at you in horror. Jaw hanging slack, dark eyes owlish and glistening. When you stop speaking, losing yourself in more sobs, his jaw clenches tight, a deep frown on his face.

“Look at me. Sweetheart, look at me.” He orders firmly.

You sniffle, but comply, just managing to bear the heat of his stare.

“There is nothing wrong with you, you’re not broken. Fuck, I - I could kill that asshole for talking to you like that. I could kill everyone of those fuckers for not treating you right.”

“It’s not their fault.” You say weakly.

“Yes it is. Don’t defend them. It’s shouldn’t hurt sweetheart, it should feel good. God, you deserve to feel good.” He says softly. He kisses the corner of your mouth, thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

Resting his forehead against yours, Eddie looks you in the eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything, okay? I’m happy to just lay here and hold you, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t know what you did right in your life to deserve Eddie Munson. This kind, gentle boy, who looks at you like you hung every star in the sky that glitters above the trailer.

“I want to.. y’know.” You whisper.

“Okay. Well we can, but let’s talk about it first yeah?”

You nod. Eddie moves to lay at your side, arms wrapped around your waist to pull you close.

“Has it ever been good?” He asks.

“No.” You admit.

“So no one’s ever made you cum?”

“No, they haven’t.”

Eddie clears his throat.

“Have you uh.. have you ever?”

Your cheeks burn with heat.

“I have.” You mumble against his chest, too embarrassed to look at him.

“But only on my own.”

“Okay, well that’s good. Definitely not broken.” Eddie smiles.

“When you’ve slept with people before, did you tell them what you like?”

“I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“They never asked.” You shrug.

Eddie sighs, his frown returning.

“Well that’s the problem. No two people are the same, right? You can’t just do the same thing with anyone and expect the same results. You have to take your time, figure out the person that you’re with.”

The heat between your legs is back. Your core throbs as Eddie murmurs to you, his hands stroking soothingly over your hips.

“Will you - can you do that?” You ask hesitantly.

“Of course I can sweetheart. If you want me to.” Eddie says softly.

“I do.”

Eddie nods, laying you down and resuming his previous position over you.

“We’ll go slow okay? I want you to tell me what you like, and what you don’t. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” You reply. It’s always so easy to say yes to him.

“Good girl.” Eddie smiles.

Your breath catches in your throat, another wave of arousal making your underwear damp.

“I - I like that.” You whisper, like it’s a secret.

“Yeah? You like when I call you my good girl?” Eddie says, his lips trailing a burning path down your neck.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“Noted.” Eddie grins.

You giggle, peering down as he moves to your chest, mouthing over the flesh spilling from the cups of your bra.

“Can I take this off?” He asks.

Your spine curls in permission, arched so he can reach a hand underneath you. Eddie makes quick work of unsnapping the hooks. You expect him to tear the garment away in a hurry like he did with your sweater.

Instead he hooks his fingers under the straps, kissing along your shoulders and arms as he slides them down. When it’s finally peeled away, Eddie groans, pupils blown as he takes in your bare chest.

“Perfect.” He says, so quietly it’s like he’s saying the words to himself.

“Can I kiss you here?” He murmurs, one finger tracing the swell of your breast.

“Please.”

He’s so gentle. Far slower than you anticipated. He takes his time, pressing kisses to your heated skin, his nose nuzzling in the valley between your breasts. When he moves up to swirl his tongue teasingly around the hardened bud of your nipple you whine, a high pitched keening sound from the back of your throat.

It could be minutes or hours, you’re not really sure. Time slows, losing all meaning as Eddie moves across your chest. His teeth graze one bud, nipping lightly.

“I like that.” You gasp, remembering his instructions to voice what pleases you.

He responds by doing it again, just a little harder.

Eddie shuffles lower on the bed, kissing the indents on your ribs left by your bra. He mouths over your stomach, tongue leaving a glistening trail. You’re shaking again, not from nerves this time, but from the anticipation. Each inch lower brings his mouth closer to where you want him.

“Eddie.” You whine. He looks up, his chin resting on your hip.

“Yeah baby?”

Your eyelids flutter at the new name, falling so easily from his lips, now red and swollen from his kisses.

“Please.” You beg.

“Please what? What do you need sweetheart?” He says, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You squirm, body flushing hot, feeling too shy to voice your desire. But he knows without you saying a word.

“D’you want me to kiss you here?” He says, tracing a finger along the seam of your panties.

“Y-yes.” You squeak. Your hips buck, chasing his touch.

“Thank god. I’ve been wanting to get my mouth on you since the moment we met.” He admits.

You raise your hips from the bed, an invitation for you to pull off your underwear. But despite being so keen himself, Eddie presses you back into the mattress.

He sinks to his knees at the end of the bed.

“Shuffle down a bit for me honey.” He instructs, his voice low and raspy with lust. He waits patiently as you move, but unsatisfied with your position takes hold of your ankles and pulls, until your ass is right at the edge, legs draped over his shoulders.

It starts at your ankles. Chaste kisses pressed to each one. Then your calves, one being loved on with his mouth, the other massaged with his large hands. It has the desired effect, relaxing you until you’re almost boneless. No longer worried about the weight of your legs on his shoulders, you let your muscles go limp, melting into the mattress.

At your thighs his kisses become hungrier, but he never increases his pace. Kissing up up up, nuzzling the round tip of his nose into the crease where your panties rest on your skin. When you feel the heat of his breath over the cotton that covers you, you whine his name once again.

“You’re so pretty.” He says, his lips brushing the fabric as he speaks.

“Doin’ so good for me.”

The kiss he leaves on your clit is dulled by the barrier of your underwear, but it’s still enough to have the heat in your belly increasing. The gentle warmth now the crackling beginnings of a fire.

“Can I take these off?” He says, still kissing the fabric, growing damper by the second from your arousal and his mouth.

“Please Eddie.” You whimper.

You hardly recognise your own voice, you’ve never sounded like this. So fucked out, so desperate, and he’s barely even touched you yet.

He leans back as he pulls on your panties, peeling them away from your slick skin and rolling them down your legs. When you’re bared to him, he lifts your legs back into their previous position.

“Remember, tell me what you like. And if you want to stop, we can.” Eddie says.

“Okay.” You whisper.

The first kiss to your bare skin has your toes curling.

It’s almost chaste, just a delicate peck to your bud. Eddie’s mouth falls open, his breath hot as it wafts over you. His tongue inches out, an experimental lick swiped up the seam of you. He flattens the muscle, dragging it slow, chocolate eyes trained on your face for a reaction. Your head falls back to the sheets, a shuddering moan tearing from your chest. You can feel the victorious smile he wear as he continues to lick at you.

He’s so slow with it. Not hesitant or unsure. No, it’s like he just wants to take his time, savour every drop of you that spills. He alternates between dancing his tongue through your folds, and sucking your clit into his mouth, pillowy soft lips sealed over you.

You want to tell him you like it, you want him to do it more, to never stop. But you’ve lost the ability to speak.

Not that it matters. Eddie seems to read your body better than anyone before, perhaps because he’s the first to try. His gaze never leave your face, intense eye contact as he waits for the hitches in your breath and the shaking of your thighs to guide him.

He’s groaning against your flesh, like it feels just as heavenly for him as it does for you. He grips your hips, blunt fingernails digging in as he pulls you down, smothering his face with your cunt.

Those flickering flames are now a raging inferno. It feels different than anything you’ve managed to achieve on your own. Your body is burning, lava coursing through your veins, white hot heat polling low in your belly.

“E-Eddie! I’m - I’m gonna-“ you gasp. You fist the bedsheets so hard it’s a wonder you don’t tear clean through them.

He doesn’t speed up, doesn’t change anything about his movements. He continues to suck on your clit with that same firm pressure, his hold on your hips turning bruising. When you dare a glance down you find his eyes still trained on you, fire burning behind them, flecks of gold in the brown that hasn’t yet been swallowed by his pupils.

It’s enough to push you over the edge. You give in, letting the flames engulf you, sure that when it’s over you’ll be nothing but a smoking pile of ash on the bed. Your thighs clench, squeezing around Eddie’s head, but he still doesn’t stop. Languidly licking at you until you’re whining from the overstimulation, no longer rocking your hips against his face but trying to twist away from him.

He smiles up at you, slick shining on his chin and cheeks. Lips ruby red and swollen.

“How was that baby?” He asks, soothing his hands over your twitching thighs.

You’re panting, still not sure you can speak. You nod weakly, and Eddie laughs. He clambers back onto the bed, pulling your pliant body with him, until the two of you are once again settled on his pillows.

His kisses are soft and sweet, tasting of you. Eddie cradles your face in his palms, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones, while you tangle your legs with his, determined to be closer.

“You’re - you’re so good at that.” You say breathlessly.

Eddie chuckles, smiling almost bashfully, like he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm of your life.

The firm length of him is trapped between your bodies, pressed to your hip.

“I can do the same for you now, if you want.” You offer.

“That’s a very tempting offer sweetheart.” Eddie says softly.

“But I’m not done with you yet.”

You frown.

“But I already came.” You reply.

“I know. But I’ve got some making up to do. So I think you deserve another, don’t you?”

Eddie kisses your temple, the hand on your hip skimming down to cup between your legs. You’re still sensitive, jolting when his thumb brushes over your clit. But you can feel it, beneath the sensitivity, that heat still lingers.

“You deserve to feel good, don’t you baby?” He whispers into the juncture of your neck, pressing kisses there as the rough pads of his fingers swirl over you.

“Y-yeah.” You say shakily.

“Say it.” He gently commands.

You swallow the lump in your throat, his ministrations so distracting you struggle to arrange your thoughts into a coherent sentence.

“I deserve to feel good.” You whisper.

“Yeah you do. Good girl.” Eddie grins.

There’s something so unfamiliar about his touches.

They’re not hurried, not impatient, like every boy before him just looking to get you wet enough so they could take what they wanted. Eddie’s not touching you for his own benefit. He’s studying you, figuring you out just like he promised he would. Between sweet kisses he watches your face, smiling to himself when your breath shudders and your eyes roll back.

“When you touch yourself how many fingers do you put in?” He asks. The question could sound filthy coming from anyone else, but from Eddie it’s caring, like he doesn’t want to push you too far.

“Just one.” You whisper.

He nods. His fingers are still collecting your slick, bringing it up to rub frustratingly slow circles on your clit. Not enough to get you off, just keeping the embers burning.

“You want me to put one in?” He says, nuzzling his nose against your jaw.

At this point you’d usually freeze, the panic setting in. But you feel so safe, you find yourself nodding before you really register what you’re agreeing to.

“Okay. Just give me a sec.” He says.

Eddie pulls his hand away, chuckling when you whine in frustration. A kiss is pecked on the tip of your nose as his hand reaches blindly into the drawer of his nightstand. The items inside rattle for a moment while he searches, until he pulls out a small plastic bottle.

You cringe at the sight of the lube. Your ex lamented using it.

“You should be wet enough without it.”

“I’m sorry. That you have to use that.” You mumble, feeling your cheeks burn with shame.

Eddie shushes you softly.

“What are you apologising for sweet girl? I just don’t want to hurt you.” He says.

He squeezes a small amount onto his fingers, warming the gel between them. When his hand reaches back down between your legs his fingers glide smoothly, your arousal and the lube providing a satisfying wetness.

“I’ll go slow, okay?” Eddie says.

You’re so grateful for his patience, for the way he keeps checking in and reassuring you. You know you’re in safe hands.

As the tip of his finger nudges at your entrance, you feel your muscles clench involuntarily. Your teeth grit together painfully, preparing yourself for the inevitable pain.

But it doesn’t come. Eddie slides in slowly, and your walls accommodate him easily. As he reaches the second knuckle you exhale the breath you were holding.

“Keep talking to me baby. Let me know you’re okay.” He instructs.

“I’m good.” You reply.

He’s all the way in now. Eddie curls his finger, exploring inside you, his thumb keeping that torturously slow pace on your clit. You feel him brush a spot within you, somewhere you’ve never felt another’s touch before. A gasp escapes you, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“There.” You exclaim.

“Yeah?” Eddie grins.

“That’s the spot?”

“Uh huh.” You sigh.

He presses more firmly against it and you keen, hips bucking into his hand again.

The steady motion of his hand, his finger rubbing insistently over that sweet spot, and his gentle touches on your bud. It all feels so good, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before.

“M-more.” You beg.

“You want another?”

“Please.”

Eddie’s ring finger presses in alongside his middle. It’s more of a stretch now, that familiar sting as you try to let him in. But it’s over in a second, the pain replaced with a pleasant fullness.

“That’s it. Just breath. You’re doing so good.” Eddie murmurs.

Your thighs are shaking again. You can feel the coil in your belly winding tight, each slow thrust of his fingers moving you closer and closer to the precipice.

“I can feel you squeezing me baby.” He says in awe.

“You gonna cum for me again?”

A friend once told you the French call orgasms ‘la petite mort’ - little death. You never really understood it, until now.

Those flames swallow you whole once more, and you’re so absorbed in the pleasure you could be dying in Eddie’s arms, lost to everything but him. And when he kisses you, he breathes life back into your lungs.

As the ringing in your ears subsides you can hear him, whispering praises into your hair as you come down. It’s like a prayer, those saccharine words recited with such adoration.

Eddie’s hand retreats, and you feel the loss instantly, that delicious fullness now missing.

Your chest heaves, lungs screaming as you gulp down mouthfuls of humid air, every nerve in your body quivering like a like wire.

“Oh my god.” You whimper. Your heavy lids peek open, finding the boy looking over you.

“Wasn’t too much was it?” He asks hesitantly. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, still wet fingers tapping a sticky drumbeat on your thigh.

“No, it wasn’t too much.” You say quietly.

‘It wasn’t enough’ your heart screams.

‘Give me more. Give me everything.’

Reassured by your words Eddie breaks out into a smile, his rounded cheeks glowing a rosy pink. You love when he smiles like that. The crinkles at the edges of his eyes deepening, that dimple making a reappearance.

“You’re so pretty.” You confess, leaning up to press your lips to the divot in his cheek.

Eddie falters. His cheeks flush deeper, brows shooting up under his bangs. He grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging it across his face in a poor attempt to conceal his grin.

“What?” You giggle, poking at his sides.

“No ones ever called me pretty before.” He says. He’s still smiling, attempting to be humorous, but there’s a tremor in his voice. Like he can’t quite believe your words.

“Well they should, because you are.”

“Thank you baby.” Eddie says, burying his face in your shoulder.

“Say it.” You whisper, repeating his own words back to him. There’s a hint of teasing, but beneath it you’re deadly serious. You want him to know just how special he is.

“I - I’m pretty.” He mumbles against your skin.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?” You tease.

Eddie huffs, grinning and blushing as he raises his head.

“I’m pretty.” He repeats.

“Good boy.” You smirk.

Eddie groans, dragging his palm down his face.

“God. You’re gonna kill me.” He says.

“Not before you sleep with me I hope.”

It’s bolder than you’ve ever dared be in a situation like this. But despite the vulnerability, being completely bared to someone physically and emotionally, you know you have nothing to fear from Eddie.

“Oh. I - sweetheart, I don’t think we should...”

Eddie realises his mistake as soon as he opens his mouth. You recoil, pulling away from him like his rejection was delivered as a stinging slap to your cheek. He watches as your eyes turn glassy and your bottom lip trembles.

“No! Baby no, I didn’t mean.. it’s not that I don’t want to!” He says.

“It’s fine.” You reply quickly, the wobble in your voice suggesting it’s anything but.

Desperately Eddie grabs your arms and pulls you close before you can climb out of his bed.

“Sweetheart. Please listen to me. I want to sleep with you, of course I do. Christ, I’m hard as a fuckin’ rock here.” He says.

“It’s just, we’ve already done so much. And this was about you, not me. I don’t want you to think all of this just so I could get something out of it. I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“I want to make you feel good too.” You sniffle. You blink back the tears, refusing to let them fall.

“Please Eddie. I want you.”

Eddie’s head is telling him this is a bad idea. He should insist that you clean off and get some sleep, this can all wait for another day when your thoughts aren’t clouded by a post orgasm haze. But his heart, and perhaps another body part, are saying something different. You’re here in his bed, practically begging for him. Who was Eddie to resist such a sweet temptation?

“Okay. I’ve got you honey.”

When he kisses you, your lips part eagerly, letting his tongue snake its way in. It’s a slow waltz of two muscles, wet and warm, with so much tenderness.

When your hand reaches to touch him, Eddie doesn’t push you away this time. He moans into your mouth as his boxers are pushed down, louder still when your hand wraps around him.

You feel more confident with this part. You know that you’re good at this, have touched enough boys as a distraction from them touching you to know exactly what to do to get them to fall apart.

Your fist squeezes around Eddie’s cock, hot and heavy in your hand. The movements start slow, an echo of the way he touched you. Up and down his length, feeling it twitch in your palm. Your thumb swipes over the flushed head, smearing the beads of pre that are steadily leaking from the slit.

Eddie groans, hips bucking, thrusting himself into you fist. You pepper kisses along his jaw, down to his neck where you can suck a small bruise onto pale skin.

No one before him has been so vocal. Every soft sigh, every grunt, every strained word of praise that he utters goes straight to your core.

“F-fuck. Baby, you gotta s-stop.” Eddie stammers.

You cease your movements immediately.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. But if you keep that up this is all gonna be over too fast.” He admits sheepishly.

You flop back onto the pillows with a satisfied grin, watching as Eddie sits up on his knees.

He reaches over you back into the drawer. Retrieving a condom, he hastily tears the foil wrapper with his teeth, rolling it down over himself. He’s settled between your legs now, squeezing more lube into his hand and giving himself a few light teasing strokes. You watch in awe at the way he touches himself, making a mental note of his speed and pressure, paying attention to what he likes.

That familiar anxiety is beginning to churn in your guts. Even in his own large fist, Eddie’s cock looks huge. A longer than average length, but it’s the thickness that has moths stirring in your stomach. There was no way this wasn’t going to hurt.

He shuffles to a better position, the head of his cock lightly pressing on your clit. As he swipes down through your sticky folds, you feel your muscles clench involuntarily.

“Hey.” Eddie says softly, pulling you from your spiralling thoughts.

“Eyes on me baby. Just breathe, and keep looking at me.” He instructs.

You nod, throat too tight for words.

You focus on those chocolate puddles of eyes, the way they never leave your face, even as his head catches at your entrance. There’s so much warmth behind them, a tenderness and care you’re not used to feeling directed your way.

Eddie presses in slowly.

The burn is intense, despite all of his hard work to get you prepared. Your brows pinch, and in less than a second it’s gone. Eddie’s pulled out, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your thighs.

“D’you wanna stop?” He asks.

“No. Keep going, please.” You manage to whisper.

He tries again. As Eddie rolls his hips forwards you exhale a deep breath, like you’re trying to blow away all the tension in your body. His head pops inside, and you just keep breathing like he told you to. A few seconds later and he’s halfway in.

The sting is already subsiding. All you can feel is that same fullness, more intense than with his fingers, and more delicious. Hooking your ankles over his lower back, you pull him closer. Encouraging him to slide all the way in, one final push having him bottoming out.

“Oh shit.” Eddie whines. His teeth are gritted, heavy eyelids fluttering.

“You’re so warm.”

“Y-you’re so big.” You squeak in reply.

His cock twitches at your words.

“S’not too much?” He asks.

“No. S’perfect. You’re perfect Eddie.” You smile.

He flashes you a grin. His body falls over yours, forearms resting on the pillow either side of your head to keep himself propped up. The new angle forces him deeper than you even thought possible. Your body feels like it’s stretched to its limits, but it’s working, your walls wrapping around him snuggly like they’re welcoming him home.

Eddie nuzzles his nose against yours, warm breath fanning across your face when he sighs in pleasure.

“You can move now, if you want to.” You murmur.

With your permission granted, Eddie rolls his hips back. Pulling out halfway only to sink back into your heat. You can feel him everywhere: the smooth glide of his cock pressing into you, his hands in your hair, bellies damp with sweat stuck together, his lips ghosting over yours. Each slow thrust has the wiry curls at his base stroking over your clit, swollen with all the attention it’s received.

Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you dot kisses across his skin like silent thank yous.

“You okay?” Eddie says breathlessly.

“Yeah.” You sigh, meaning it completely. You’ve never felt so cared for.

No ones ever had you like this. You’re used to harsh unforgiving thrusts, quick fucks that left you sore and disappointed. Everything about Eddie is so different. His languid pace, the careful attention he pays you, the intimacy of him kissing your temple as you squeeze around him.

“God. Baby, you’re doing so good f’me. I love the way you feel, s’like heaven.” Eddie slurs, sounding more than a little pussy drunk.

That four letter word spins around and around in your mind like a carousel. It’s much too soon for it to be spoken in any other context. Your relationship was still so new. A tiny bud just beginning to awaken in the sunshine, unfurling its delicate petals to stretch in the golden glow.

Still, you realise then how easily you could fall in love with Eddie Munson. It already feels like his name is branded across your heart, the letters seared into muscle.

Your third and final orgasm of the night creeps up on you. Building as a tingle that runs up your spine, spreading into every limb until you feel it in the tips of your fingers and toes. It’s not a blazing heat like the others. More like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long arduous day. Soothing heat. Comforting and safe.

Eddie whines your name. Turns his head and crashes his lips to yours just as his own high reaches its crescendo. His hips stutter, fingers curling into a fierce grip on the soft down of his pillows. He cries out, and you feel the blooming heat of him spilling into the condom, thrusts growing weaker as he rides it out. For a moment you find yourself hating the thin latex that covers him. Wishing you take all of his pleasure, watch it trickle back out when he’s done.

Eddie collapses onto you. His chest heaves, spent limbs turning to dead weight, not that you mind. You weakly raise one hand, combing through his curls, dampened at the roots from his efforts.

There’s a slight aching in your cunt. Your hips are screaming in protest from being spread open for so long. But there’s no pain in your chest. No hollow emptiness, and no sour taste on your tongue. You exhale a contented sigh, pushing Eddie’s bangs back so you can kiss his forehead.

He lifts his head, resting his chin on your sternum. His eyes are heavy. He looks blissful and sleepy.

“Hey.” You say softly.

“Hey.” Eddie replies.

“Was that okay?”

“Perfect.” He grins.

With a groan he pushes up, moving slow as he pulls out.

“Was it.. was it okay for you? I didn’t hurt you?” Eddie asks anxiously.

“It was amazing.” You reassure.

Eddie smiles. You roll onto your side, watching as he clambers off the edge of the bed and removes the condom, tying it and tossing it into the trash.

“Thank you.”

Eddie tuts.

“You don’t need to thank me silly girl.” He says affectionately. You shuffle back to make space for him to climb back in beside you.

“But you took such good care of me.”

“M’just treating you the way you deserve to be treated.” He says. His fingers wander lightly over your cheek, tracing tiny patterns across smooth skin.

“I should probably get us some water. And you can go to the bathroom.” Eddie comments.

“Don’t wanna.” You grumble, pushing your face against his chest.

“Just wanna cuddle.”

Eddie laughs.

“Alright cuddle bug. Five minutes, then you’ve got to pee, and I’ll make you a cup of camomile.”

“I didn’t have you down as a camomile tea kind of person too.”

You feel Eddie shrug.

“I’m not. I just remembered you saying you like it, so I picked some up.”

You were definitely right.

It would be so easy to fall in love with Eddie Munson.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭🥁 ᴡᴀʀʀᴇɴ ʀᴏᴊᴀsˎ´

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭🎸 ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴇᴇˎ´

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭🎙️ ᴅᴀɪsʏ ᴊᴏɴᴇs ˎ´-

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭🪕 ɢʀᴀʜᴀᴍ ᴅᴜɴɴᴇˎ´-

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭🎹 ᴋᴀʀᴇɴ sɪʀᴋᴏˎ´-

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭🫀 ᴄᴀᴍɪʟᴀ ᴀʟᴠᴀʀᴇᴢ ˎ´-

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭🎤 ʙɪʟʟʏ ᴅᴜɴɴᴇ ˎ´-

🎬 ᴄᴀsᴛ

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭👑 sᴇʙᴀsᴛɪᴀɴ ᴄʜᴀᴄᴏɴ ˎ´-

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭❤️‍🔥 ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀʀʀɪsᴏɴ ˎ´-

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭🏡 ᴊᴏsʜ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇʜᴏᴜsᴇ ˎ´-

- ̗̀₊๋-࣭☁️ sᴀᴍ ᴄʟᴀғʟɪɴ ˎ´-