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#<-there's also that but i would love this even without that association

itsabouttimex2 · 3 days

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I was roleplaying with the LSO MK bot and I noticed how it mentions that the Reader is the fourth successor, which I found really cool because it'd tie in really well with MK's protectiveness over their student!

Since the number four is considered to be a quite inauspicious number in chinese culture, it would make a lot of sense for MK to be even more protective about their student — seeing it as a way of 'defending' them not only from the usual struggles of being the new wielder of such a powerful weapon but also to protect them from whatever unluckiness could befall them (which makes Reader's eventual triumph and growth quite a sweet character development moment — to thrive over the misfortunes of life even when they precede you).

I think I might be reading way too much into it (or not?? Haha I'm not sure) but I just found it really cool! I love your AUs :D

I’m so glad you’ve been liking the bot!

Where I’m from, four is considered a lucky number on account of it’s association with clovers! I’ve heard in other countries, it represents misfortune and even death- it’s a good duality for the power that Y/N inherits, I think.

Y/N is something new and blooming, a little fourth sprig hoping to match the third tree. I felt like Clover was a fitting nickname for someone like that.

And LSO!MK will find any reason possible to shelter and coddle Y/N, unfortunately for them. Unlike their mentor, they actively struggle to beat enemies alone, given that MK won’t cut them loose to learn to solve problems without his guiding hand.

So, if they really are an unlucky soul, then the protectiveness and almost fatherly smothering only grows worse and worse. Every little trip and stumble just leads to him cracking down on anything he sees as a threat. Y/N has lots of awareness and focusing lessons in the near future- only for their own good, of course.

(Bot and example chats under the read more!)

#Time Talks #Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere MK #Let’s Start Over #Character.AI

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andr0medafallen · 1 year

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I was watching Game of Thrones today and I realized how I’m attracted to practically every single character (the adults - I’ve seen people say some creepy ass shit about the kids who I love like they’re my own despite my zero maternal instincts) like Jaime Lannister?? The Hound?? All of the women?? Hot as fuck, sue me

I don’t know why I’m sending this to you in an ask, it just felt like the right thing to do

...Okay maybe it's my general hatred for men and I do think that all the actors in that show are very attractive, but like if confronted with any of the characters irl ithinkmostofthemwouldbepassesimsorrythey'rejustsocreepy.

But I'm glad that you enjoy the show and characters! I really am not trying to be a hater.

In fact, to be completely candid, Yara Greyjoy had to have been one of my first tv crushes, so i am capable of love i swear.

#i think i maybe just like associate this show with my dad?#and like i do think Jaime is like physically attractive but then i remember he fucks his sister and i want to barf #but also you have to remember i watched game of thrones with my dad when it came out #i was 9.#so i have a weird perspective on the show for sure #also #this should really go without saying but don't let your 8 year old child watch Games of Thrones #and don't watch it with her for gods sake #also this isn't even mentioning the years that i had to go to bed at 7 and plug my ears while reading #because my dad would start BLASTING The Walking Dead #which i was also encouraged to watch as a 7 year old but chose not to #Sorry to be a party pooper!#scout: 'these people are hot!'#me: 'this is a great segway into explaining my rocky relationship with my dad'#'i wanna kill you if you don't beat me to it'#scout tag <3 #my lovely (and tolerant) wife

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redgoldsparks · 8 months

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My very last comic for The Nib! End of an era! Transcription below the cut. instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

The first event I went to with GENDER QUEER was in NYC in 2019 at the Javits Center.

So many of the people who came to my signing were librarians, and so many of them said the same thing: "I know exactly who I want to give this to!" Maia: "Thank you for helping readers find my book!" While working on the book, I was genuinely unsure if anyone outside of my family and close friends would read it. But the early support of librarians and two American Library Association awards helped sell two print runs in first year.

Since then, GENDER QUEER been published in 8 languages, with more on the way: Spanish, Czech, Polish, French, Italian, Norwegian, Portugese and Dutch.

It has also been the most banned book in the United States for the past two years. The American Library Association has tracked an astronomical increase in book challenges over the past few years. Most of these challenges are to books with diverse characters and LGBTQ themes. These challenges are coming unevenly across the US, in a pattern that mirrors the legislative attacks on LGBTQ people. The Brooklyn Public Library offered free eCards to anyone in the US aged 13-21, in an effort to make banned books more available to young readers. A teacher in Norman, Oklahoma gave her students the QR code for the free eCard and lost her job. Summer Boismeir is now working for the Brooklyn Public Library. Hoopla and Libby/Overdrive, apps used to access digital library books, are now banned in Mississippi to anyone under 18. Some libraries won’t allow anyone under 18 to get any kind of library card without parental permission. When librarians in Jamestown, Michigan refused to remove GENDER QUEER and several other books, the citizens of the town voted down the library’s funding in the fall 2022 election. Without funding, the library is due to close in mid-2024. My first event since covid hit was the American Library Association conference in June 2022 in Washington, DC. Once again, the librarians in my signing line all had similar stories for me: “Your book was challenged in our district" "It was returned to the shelf!" "It was removed from the shelf..." "It was moved to the adult section."

Over and over I said: "Thank you. Thank you for working so hard to keep my book in your library. I’m sorry you had to defend it, but thank you for trying, even if it didn't work." We are at a crossroads of freedom of speech and censorship. The future of libraries, both publicly funded and in schools, are at stake. This is massively impacting the daily lives of librarians, teachers, students, booksellers, and authors around the country. In May 2023, I read an article from the Washington Post analyzing nearly 1000 of the book challenges from the 2021-2022 school year. I was literally on route to a festival to talk about book bans when I read a startling statistic. 60% of the 1000 book challenges were submitted by just 11 people. One man alone was responsible for 92 challenges. These 11 people seem to have made submitting copy-cat book challenges their full-time hobby and their opinions are having an outsized ripple effect across the nation. WE NEED TO MAKE THE VOICES SUPPORTING DIVERSE BOOKS AND OPPOSING BOOK BANS EVEN LOUDER. If you are able too, show up for your library and school board meetings when book challenges are debated. Send supportive comments and emails about the Pride book display and Drag Queen story hours. If you see a display you like– for Banned Book Week, AAPI Month, Black History Month, Disability Awareness Month, Jewish holidays, Trans Day of Remembrance– compliment a librarian! Make sure they feel the love stronger than the hate <3

Maia Kobabe, 2023

The Nib

#maia kobabe #banned books #library funding #comics #book challenges

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drchucktingle · 4 months

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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION HAVE ISSUED AN APOLOGY AND A RE-INVITATION. HERE IS MY STATEMENT

hello buckaroos. the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION have issued a formal statement and apology which you can read at the attached link.

while i find the language used to discuss what was done a little unsatisfying, i would like to start by saying i appreciate anyone taking steps to prove love is real and make things right. the genuine feeling of ‘realizing you have made a mistake and hurt someone else’ is a terrible one, and i have so much empathy for this group as they reckon with their choices causing harm. i appreciate their apology.

i also think more good than bad has come from this situation. i am so thankful this happened to me (someone with a large social media presence) and not a smaller buckaroo author without the means to stand up for themselves. i think the next time someone comes to the TXLA with an accommodation need, they will hopefully be taken more seriously

lets trot down to business about specifics now. the TXLA has re-invited chuck to the original panel and even offered to take a moment at the top of the panel to talk about what happened. this is very kind of them and i will say THANK YOU.

unfortunately i will also have to decline.

the fact that it took this much effort, social media backlash, and discussion to let me simply EXIST PHYSICALLY in a way that is authentic to myself is not a good sign. if this organization immediately questions an authors chosen presentation in this manner, i cannot imagine what my other accommodations would be met with.

sometimes i am at an event and i very quickly need extra space to breathe. sometimes i am at an event and i need special guides to help me along from place to place. these are not ‘big asks’ and every other conference has gladly provided them, but if the TXLA had this kind of initial reaction to my physical appearance, i cannot imagine them readily helping with my other needs without ‘proof’.

this is clearly not a safe place to trot for those who require additional accommodations. regardless of any apology, their ACTIONS have shown that people who appear unusual or unique are not welcome at this event on a subconscious level. i believe the TXLA have some serious inner work to do beyond this apology, and i believe this inner work will involve actions more than words.

but even more importantly i would like to make this very important point: IT DOES NOT MATTER IF MY MASK IS A DISABILITY AID OR NOT. i appreciate the way this discussion has allowed us to trot out some deep talks on autism and proved love in this way, but i think there is a much more important point at hand.

regardless of WHAT someone looks like, it is not the job of an event or conference to pick apart WHY. physical presentation can be a part of someones neurodivergence, or gender, or sexuality, but i can also just exist as a nebulous undefined part of their inner self. it can be a piece they are not ready to openly discuss yet. the guests at TXLA are authors (aka ARTISTS) and the idea that a conference dedicated to an ART is going to deny people with unique and unusual presentations for ANY reason is absurd. since when are we applying a ‘dress code’ to our artists?

without knowing it, i personally believe there is an element of the ‘good queer, bad queer’ phenomenon going on here. there is a push to say ‘LOOK we accept these marginalized groups and cultures’ but behind the scenes that means ‘we accept these marginalized groups and cultures who are quiet and speak in turn and wear the metaphorical suit and tie’. it is easy to show diversity when you only take on the voices that arent too ‘strange’.

to prove my point i ask you this: do you think orville peck would have FOR ONE SECOND been asked to perform at the texas library association event without his mask?

so with that i say ‘very sincerely, thank you, but i will have to decline the re-invitation. maybe next year’

#love is real #txla #chuck tingle #buckaroo lifestyle

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vroomvroomwee · 5 months

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Can we talk about this?

Because we seriously need to talk about it. This single scene is so so so so important. Both of them are doing something typically associated with romantic couples. He grabs her hand, kisses it, holds it close to his chest and looks directly into her eyes.

In any other piece of media that would have undoubtedly been a romantic gesture. But not these two. And that is just so fucking incredible. Personally, I didn't think I would ever see this type of platonic closeness in my lifetime. One where romantic or sexual attraction between both parties is completely thrown out the window.

That's just so goddamn important to have. And you know what makes this scene even more mind-blowing. It's that their relationship is a male-female one (I know the Doctor is non-binary, but rn he's presenting as male). AND where the woman is attracted to men and the man is attracted to women (be it allo or ace).

And there is ZERO possibility of a romantic relationship between them. How amazing is that? It's so important to have that. To show that men and women can be friends. That women are not objects or something to achieve. That men can have closeness with women without being attracted to them. That there can be love, pure deep love, between men and women, and it's no less than that between a romantic couple's one.

And it's not like that trope in movies that we so often see where the "ugly" "undesirable" "quirky" ones are single and have formed a relationship with other individuals because no one wants them. No no. Both of these people are absolutely stunning and still, there's no attraction.

Also, this will go a very very long way for the ace and aro communities. To know that the love you can give is no less powerful and not inferior to that of people who do experience romantic and sexual attraction.

These two are a fan favourite, if not THE fan favourite, duo of all Doctor Who and I just wish people will realise how wonderful and special platonic relationships can be.

#i love them #doctor who #doctorwho #dw #doctor who 60th #doctor who 60th anniversary #dw 60th #60th anniversary #60th anniversary specials #donna noble #the doctor

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queerfables · 8 months

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I wanted this post to be more coherent but I am coming apart at the seams. Listen. Listen to me. Listen look no look me in the eyes and listen LISTEN.

Crowley and Aziraphale know. They're in love, and they know. Their love is requited, and they know. That's why it hurts so much! They don't say it. They can't say it. The consequences for both of them could be disastrous. But they know, they know, they know.

This is forbidden love at it's absolute pinnacle. This is centuries of dancing around an unsayable, inescapable truth. Loving someone this way is intense. It's a fiercely romantic headrush, because everything is high stakes fantasy and it's you and your beloved against the world. It's a soul crushing nightmare because the thing you want more than anything is always there, just out of reach. It's passion and yearning and stolen touches and desperately hoping the other person understands all the things you can't say.

It's also just unbelievably stupid. You have a sizzling moment of intimacy with someone and then three days later you're trying to act like business associates.

This dynamic has been present since season one, and sometimes the atmosphere between Crowley and Aziraphale becomes urgent and surreal enough that they almost name it. There's the bandstand, where Crowley suggests they could run away together. There's Aziraphale in 1967 saying, maybe one day we'll dine at the Ritz. These aren't the words of those unsure of another's feelings. These are declarations made in the clearest terms they dare.

The clincher for me is Aziraphale's face when Shax says she wouldn't have thought he was Crowley's type. It's a nasty comment meant to play on Aziraphale's insecurities: "If you're anything to him, it must be something sordid, and I'm surprised you can even offer him that." And she completely misses the mark! Aziraphale disregards her words without a thought. That eyebrow says he knows exactly how Crowley feels about him, and Shax's insinuation is laughable. He is uniquely Crowley's type.

It's less definitive for Crowley, and it makes sense that it would be. For the most part, Crowley is the accelerator and Aziraphale is the brakes. It is hard to hold faith that someone wants you when all they can tell you is "slow down". That doesn't mean he's unsure of Aziraphale's feelings. It means that he's unsure how much he's allowed to say. Aziraphale wants him to push right up until he doesn't, and it hurts them both when they go too far and have to walk it back. Even so, Crowley's confession makes it pretty clear that they're both in on this unspoken thing between them:

"you and me ... group of the two of us ... and we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't"

And then he kisses Aziraphale. And he doesn't do it carefully or tentatively. He doesn't wait for Aziraphale to be ready. Because that's how this dance goes, isn't it? Aziraphale wants him to push, and it's going to hurt and they're going to have to walk it back but fuck it all because Crowley is going to give them the thing they've spent their existence pretending they didn't want.

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #fable talks good omens

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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months

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I've never orphaned a fic, but I'm glad AO3 has the option to do that. When I was in my late teens, I deleted all of my work from FFN because I thought I was done writing fanfic and for some reason got the idea into my head that it was dangerous to just leave them up, in case future employers or whoever found them. Even though I was writing very tame, mostly K+ and T rated stuff based on relatively uncontroversial original works. *facepalm*

Anyway, if I'd had the option to orphan my fics back then, I think I probably would have done that instead of deleting them. I wish it had been an option. I don't intend on ever orphaning what I'm writing now, but it makes me happy to know that if I ever did want to no longer be associated with it, I'd have the option to do that without taking it offline completely.

It's things like the orphan feature that really highlight the fact that AO3 was created and is maintained by fans. The people who volunteer there are also people who read fic and people who write fic. They get it.

Other features that I think are fantastic include, but are not limited to:

being able to have private bookmarks

being able to subscribe to a single fic, or to a fic series or to an author

the Fannish Next of Kin system whereby you can set a guardian for your fics in case of your death or incapacitation

site skins, which allow you to change the look and feel of the site to something that works best for you

the ability to have a pseudonym account on your main account, so if you want separate our your works that way you can

Tag Wranglers, who read all of the weird and wacky ways we tag our fics and make them searchable and filterable in the database

the search and filter capabilities!!

otp:true

the kudos feature, so I can still show love even when I don't have words

RSS feed capability

the ability to restrict access to my works and to restrict comments on my works

blocking and muting!

never having to click the Proceed button again

Anyone else have a favourite feature that I didn't list above? (if any of my points is new to you, lemme know - I'm always happy to do a deep dive)

#asks and answers

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doberbutts · 10 months

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Anyway yes, people who can X should be accomodating to people who can't X. People who can walk should accomodate people who can't. People who can hear should accomodate people who can't. People who can see should accomodate people who can't. And on and on. When that doesn't happen, it's a problem that deserves to be talked about.

But the problem is not and has never been "physical disabilities are more important and deserve more accomodations than mental disabilities"- nor the other way around either.

People love to dunk on folks with ADD/ADHD but you know? As someone with ADD raised by diabetic parents I gotta say there's a lot of similarities here. People with ADD, myself included, often forget to eat and when they do eat they often load themselves up with carbs and sugars because those foods make their brains feel good. People with diabetes have to closely monitor their meals and often crave sugars and need a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand. This is not to say ADD and diabetes are exact one-to-one disabilities.

But having grown up watching my parents manage their diabetes, I too am very aware of meal times and blood sugar and constructing meals that will tide you over and having a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand Just In Case. I am able to manage my ADD better in this way because I have experience from watching my parents. I also need access to snacks and to be able to say to my boss "I need to go eat something real fast" without being punished.

I had a training client who was the image of "able bodied mentally ill" outside of the usual creaks and squeaks associated with age, her body worked just fine. But after a series of incidents in her youth- a car accident that left her with a serious brain injury, coming home from the hospital afterwards to immediately have her house broken into and herself raped by an intruder, and assorted medical malpractice while she was healing from both- she has a serious and extreme case of agoraphobia and spent the next 40 years completely unable to leave the house. She would hide and wail and scream when deliveries of groceries and other goods would come, because it meant a stranger (and usually a man) would be at her door. She could not go more than a couple steps outside to get her mail and especially not if other people were outside.

At some point her therapist suggested getting a pet, one that *had* to go outside, to help her. So she got a dog and contacted a trainer (me) and we got to work. And she did improve! The dog has been a huge help to managing her symptoms! But you cannot seriously expect me to have worked with this woman for years and then belittle mental illnesses as being lesser when this woman also shares the inability to even leave her house let alone go inside a grocery store. Even today there are times when she simply cannot, she cannot will her body to move out of her door and into transportation let alone into the building.

When she first started coming to me she thanked me for not belittling her or making her feel bad for classes she had to cancel because she couldn't force herself to take the first step over the threshold. That is when she told me what happened to her and that while it sounds terrible she was really happy to have found a trainer who knew something personal about trauma and brain injuries. She is also a case where I feel her ESA should be considered service dog not because of training or tasking but because her need is so high and she is just completely incapable of doing anything without the dog in her arms.

Anyway I think of her any time someone says "but you can walk through the door". There's nothing wrong with her legs so in theory sure she could. But often she *can't*, not because of anything physical, but because she is very severely mentally ill.

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lymmsweb · 11 months

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Until I found you

🕷pairing : miguel o’hara x spider!reader

🕷word count: 1095

🕷warnings: non sexual intimacy, description of wounds, nudity, minor ATSV spoilers

🕷summary: Lyla alerts Miguel that you’re injured, Miguel takes it upon himself to help you

🕸 After he set up the Spider association you were one of the first that joined, he didn’t feel much for you at first but after going on countless missions together he trusted you more than anyone.

🕸He gave up on finding love after his daughter died, he felt as if he didn’t deserve a good relationship after all the damage he caused. You were one of the few people that helped him through his guilt and sadness after the event, often cracking jokes with Peter B. to get Miguel to crack even the littlest of smiles.

🕸 He never truly got over his daughters death but he slowly started to act softer and more affectionate with you. He would hang around the lobby more, he didn’t really know why but he always felt like he was looking for someone every time he went out. All most each time he came out of his ‘office’ you would always find a way to lock eyes with him or even strike up a conversation and each time he’d always let his rough exterior fall and shoot you a small smile.

🕸 Normally in his free time you’d always be with him eating Empanadas or Arepas in the kitchen, working in silence next to each other, checking up on you daily and slightly leaning into your touch whenever you’d accidentally bump into him. Miguel even gave you special authorisation with Lyla that no one but him had.

🕸 It was when Lyla alerted him that you were severely hurt after a mission gone horribly wrong he quickly dropped everything and rushed over and into your dimension. You were bloody and bruised, sitting on your living room floor panting and exhausted. Miguel’s heart dropped for a second,at the thought of loosing you he’s reminded of how his daughter hung onto him before she disappeared.

“Mierda! What happened?” he panicked as he bolted over to the medical kit you kept under your bed. He knew where everything was in your house, he crashed many times to your place durning restless, nightmare filled nights. He fumbled a bit as he grabbed it, hurriedly making it back to you making sure he didn’t knock anything over. Without hesitance he started to rip your suit off to get more access around the wounds.

“Buy me a drink first.” you chuckled weakly as you watched him furrow his brows as he started to disinfect the gash in your thigh.

“You only need one drink to sleep with me?” he joked as he to reach over to grab the needle and stitches, rubbing your leg gently with his other hand. He knew he had to ask what had happened but he decided against it just in case you would start stressing out more, although this didn’t stop him seething with rage every time he saw your bruised and cut face.

“Cielo this going to hurt.” he apologetically looked at you before he started to close the wound, with every painful noise you let out his heart broke just a little more, reminding him yet again how in his daughters final moments she was also making those noises. It didn’t take him long before he was finished, putting away all the medical equipment he made Lyla scan you for any internal damage. It turned out you had a concussion but apart from that you were somewhat ‘okay’.

“You should probably wash yourself.” Lyla chimed in, looking closely at your body before turning around to wink at Miguel. He scoffed in annoyance and swatted her away. She always enjoyed pushing her limits with him.

“Come let’s get you cleaned up.” blush crept up on your cheeks as he bent down and picked you up bridle style, trying his hardest to not touch any bruises as he gripped onto you harshly. He swiftly moved around furniture and rooms until he made it to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet seat before turning to get the bath ready. He stared at the water slowly filling up the tub lost in though, what if he got there sooner, what if you died, what if…? He didn’t know what he’d do if you were no longer by his side, if he didn’t get to hear you again, to feel you again-

“Romeo, you okay?” your teasing words snapped him out of his trance, his head snapped towards you, just blankly meeting your eyes.

“I should be asking you that.” he hummed as he looked you up and down, taking in the way your torn suit stuck to the curves of your body. The way your lips were slightly parted showing your front teeth, the way you looked at him intensely back. He felt like he was under your microscope as you were studying ass his features too.

“Miguel..” you placed your hand on his knee, softly rubbing it. Once he heard you softly whispering his name, touching him so gently he realised just how much he was deeply in love with you, he would’t be able to having you not there in his life.

“Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” Miguel replied as he grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers in yours as he stood up, bringing you up with him. “Also the bath is ready, do you need a drink firs-“

“Shut up.” a light smack to his chest interrupted him, earning a small laugh both of you. Miguel silently asked for permission, waiting for you to allow him to help. You offered him a nod and smile, relaxing your body as he started to strip away the layers from your body, each little touch was like electricity against your skin. It took a while before you were down to nothing. He stayed silent, not letting his eyes wander around your naked form keeping strong eye contact.

He grabbed your hand and helped you into the tub, worried you’d end up slipping and hurting yourself even more, sitting down in the water felt like a blessing against your skin, finally getting all the seat and blood off of your skin was rejuvenating. Miguel felt his heart flutter as he realised how domestic the scene in front of him was, finding comfort in the love and trust you gave him. He walked around searching for your floral scented shampoo and your citric body wash, humming a song quietly to himself. Once he retrieved everything you needed, he passed you the bottles and sat down next to you playing with your hair, watching you intently as you cleaned your blood off of you.

a/n: Cielo - Sky (affectionate nickname) Mierda - Shit . I’ll def be writing more Miguel so whatever nickname he says in spanish is normally what my parents call eachother! The title is taken from this song. Also i just redid my page, hope y’all like it!!!

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pigfacedbitch · 9 months

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Phobia

idea : your phobia relates to your boyfriend's gifted godly abilities.

word count : 0.8k

type : headcanons

pairing/s involved : Jason Grace / Percy Jackson / Leo Valdez / Frank Zhang / Nico Di Angelo x Reader

warning/s : phobia speaks for itself. personally, it's thalassophobia for me. 😓

here is my masterlist!

Jason Grace | Acrophobia (Fear of Heights)

Due to having the same fear as his sister, Jason is completely aware of the dos and dont's when you're an acrophobic.

If you two are forced in situations where you need to be in high places, he always attempts to distract you with anything he can think of.

He prefers embarrassing stories over jokes. His delivery is too deadass and his 'i'm-trying-hard-here-it's-not-funny' look makes you laugh before the punchline.

Knowing that it can be associated with the fear of falling, Jason will reassure you every time that he's going to catch you.

If you did fall, during some battle for example, he will asks you to close your eyes and hold you tighter before slowly bringing you down.

He really lives up to that Superman nickname so much, the others started calling you Lois Lane.

Percy Jackson | Thalassophobia (Fear of Deep Bodies of Water)

Percy would be bummed out. Being the son of Poseidon, he loves to be in the water.

Everything about him— from his favorite hobbies to his happiest of memories, revolves around it and he wants to share that with you.

He plans on taking you on trips underwater; introduce you to the majestic marine creatures nobody else has seen before, unravel mysteries the sea has to offer, and form a big bubble where you can do whatever you want without being interrupted (ehem👀).

But how can he make all of it possible when your fear is literally all of those?

Percy would want to help you get over it. He wouldn't force you but he will at least try convince you.

If you refuse, he will respect that.

But if you accept his help, he'll try to take it one step at a time. Probably by starting to show you how the sea, no matter terrifying it is, is also beautiful place.

Leo Valdez | Pyrophobia (Fear of Fire)

Initially, Leo will laugh. I mean, who wouldn't?

You're a pyrophobic yet you're dating someone who is actually made out of fire?

After he notices that you're not joking, he will begin to be terrified for you. Expect that Leo will be extra careful when you are with him, especially when he is working on something.

His contraptions deemed too dangerous like explosives, will be kept somewhere far away.

As much as he thinks your presence will make Bunker 9 a lovelier workspace, he will understand if you don't want to go there. The essense of it is from the god of fire himself— I mean you need a blast of fire to enter.

He also will refrain himself from using his fire abilities in a fight, making do with his inventions instead.

While pyrophobia doesn't have specific causes, it may be possible that you had some traumatic experience relating to fire. Leo doesn't want to hurt you or make you feel worse.

Frank Zhang | Zoophobia (Fear of Animals)

Frank is confused. He doesn't know that the fear of animals is a thing and would wonder why you agreed on dating him in the first place.

He will ask you tons of questions; what caused your phobia? Are you afraid of all animals, a few, or just one? What can I do? After your conversation, he's going to search more information.

If you're afraid of one animal only, Frank will forget it ever existed. He will never talk of that animal again even when you're not around.

The others will joke about it. Example, if you're scared of snakes—

"What is a snake, Frank?"

"What's that, Leo? I have no idea, so let's never speak of it again."

In the case that you're afraid of all animals (this is a rare condition), he will not use his abilities and will train harder in combat.

When he really doesn't have a choice but to shapeshift in a fight, you two will separate with your friends' assurance that they got your back.

Frank is a nice guy but if someone made an offensive comment about your phobia or hardcore pranks involving that animal? Expect the wrath and rage of Mars.

Nico Di Angelo | Phasmophobia (Fear of Ghosts)

I'm sorry but Nico will slightly judge you. Really, a ghost? What are you, five?

Like Frank, he will ask you what caused your phobia.

He will feel terrible and comfort you if you have the same experience as Reina and Jason, who's loved ones turned into a mania. If it's because of horror movies, he will awkwardly pet your head.

You may think the subject is dropped but Nico will make sure that no ghost will ever come near you.

Having the infamous title 'Ghost King', he will not hesitate to torment and threaten the spirits who try to approach, scare, or talk to you.

He will take you on dates to McDonalds but he will not bring you to any 'ghost business'.

If you want to get rid of your phobia, Nico will summon ghosts who can entertain you; like singers, dancers, those that can do tricks, and stand up comedians.

He will also show you how easily he can bend any ghost to his will, proving to you that there's nothing to be afraid of.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson headcanons #heroes of olympus headcanons #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #hoo imagine #pjo imagine #jason grace #jason grace x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #frank zhang #frank zhang x reader #nico di angelo #nico di angelo x reader #riordanverse

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eddiernunson · 5 months

Text

The Splash of Rain on the Roof | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+

Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, always there for me, bestie.

Also to @bebe07011 for reading everything before I post and giving me feed back. Love ya.

Summary: you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.

Warnings: (idiots) best friends to lovers, dork!reader, virgin!eddie and virgin!reader (its cute, ok), kinda slow, no protection, creampie, praise/degradation, minor miscommunication trope, sleepy 5am writing, first I love yous

I have another one shot planned, it's about 3/4 done.

Word count: 11k

As any first day at Hawkins High in the middle of the semester goes, you had a fairly decent one. A cheerleader spotted you in her class and dragged you over to her table, a parade of jocks and cheerleaders surrounding it. You wondered if their insistence was genuine, and you let yourself believe it. Until their true colours were shown through a nasty gossip session.

For the most part, they all had kind things to say about one another. They encouraged each other and asked how your day was so far. Did it count as false advertising if fake friends show their real colours? If anything, you were grateful they were so quick about it. You barely had a chance to memorize their names when one of them broke out in an overdramatic bellow in disgust. Your interest piqued, nearly drowning in their dull conversations, no matter how polite.

You followed the curly haired boys’ line of sight across the cafeteria to a group of boys laughing louder than the rest of the school. They looked carefree and like they were enjoying themselves. You envied them. Your eyes switched back to your new supposed friends, afraid of what exactly was so worthy of their collective disgust.

Their immediate round of insults to the harmless group of boys left the worst taste in your mouth. After the three or four people had their say, you got up without another word.

“Wait! Where you going?” Called the girl who escorted you to the table.

“Anywhere but here.” You answered, having understood immediately what kind of group of people she associated herself with.

She had plenty more to say, but you didn’t hear another word. You were far too busy beelining for the gorgeous man who was at the head of said table. The moment you looked over to them, your vision tunneled. The complaints voiced by the table of Preps seemed to be an extension of their “freakiness”, or so they called it, which you deduced was just another word for “dork”.

Little did they know, you are also a dork.

So, the table you had just ditched watched in horror as you walked straight to the table and immediately sat down with them.

Turns out the gorgeous man was as kind as he was good-looking.

It’s been over a year since you started at Hawkins, over a year of friendship with Eddie Munson, said gorgeous man. What’s even worse, he’s better than you had expected him to be. As you settle into the Hellfire Club, adding your own adventurous characters, and contributing to inside jokes, you and Eddie end up closer than you had ever expected.

Unfortunate news is, he has you so far in the friend zone, you’re starting to wonder if even he knows you’re a girl. (With fantastic tits, which he never seems to even look at.)

You’ve spent plenty of nights in a pair of tiny shorts and an oversized top with no bra as you listen to music and smoke a joint with him, hoping over and over that he would just make a move because lord knows you weren’t gonna do it.

The pressure of his hand when it rests on your lower back, the way he curls your hair behind your ear, his breath down your neck when he hugs you, it all sets your skin on fire.

On one night you were terribly upset at your mom after having a fight with her, getting in your car to take the eight-minute drive to his house. You had arrived at his trailer uninvited plenty of times before, Eddie encouraged it once he realized the fights were a regular thing. Only this time, he wasn’t in the living-room watching a scary movie, or in his bedroom listening to records or making a new campaign.

He was in the shower.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He’s had plenty of showers while you were over. He’d be stupidly apologetic about it, but if you were to be honest with him, the smell of the body wash that lingered on him was too good to pass up. You grabbed a bag of chips and a soda from his fridge and a beer for him, figuring you’d meet him when he struts out in that low hanging towel. On your way to Eddie’s room, a noise like music hit your ears and the slick beer almost fell out of your hand.

“Uh, uh, oh shit…fuck—” You heard him, loud and clear, a noise you only imagined late at night in your own bedroom. You stood there frozen in the hallway, listening as he fucked his own fist. You listened as his breaths got faster, his whining higher pitched. But no sound could match the divine noise Eddie made as he finished. Your breath hitched then, drool pooling on your tongue as you pictured sticky white ropes all over the shower.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, your panties drenched just from listening to him. You wondered what would’ve happened if your hands were empty. When the shower turned off, your gut swooped, butterflies kicking in as you raced to look casual on his bed. You didn’t have much time to prepare, turning on some music and picking up one of his magazines. Shit, dirty magazine. You quickly adjusted to the next one over, featuring a Metal band on the cover.

As Eddie entered his room, you were laying on the bed looking casual as you could, hoping he didn’t pick up on your heavy breathing. If he did, he didn’t indicate it. As much as you tried, your breathing didn’t slow, your eyes zoned in on the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, lingering on his treasure trail. He greeted you absentmindedly, picking up a pair of sweats.

That night, you could do nothing but stammer through your sentences, chalking it up to stress from the fight with your mom. He offered you to sleep over, a normal habit you’ve developed, but the itch to slip your fingers down your pants was too much. If you had to face your mom just to get it figured out, so be it.

A switch flipped in you that day, it went from being a schoolgirl crush into a want, no, a need for him.

God, you wish he’d just get a clue…or that’d you get the nerve to make a move.

Something better than this torture.

After the third pat on his hand, Eddie finally looked up, wondering why Josh can’t take the hint. “What, what?” He asked, already annoyed at his day as it was. Fucking history teacher…

“New girl.” Josh gestured towards the jock/cheerleader table.

Eddie blinked, questioning why the hell he should be interested in this. The insistence on not just Josh’s face, but the rest of the group convinced Eddie, switching his glance over to the table. You stuck out like a sore thumb, not exactly dressed in their prep uniform. From this single glance, he could tell you were uncomfortable. In any case, neither were most cheerleaders on their first days. Oh well, he figured you would assimilate soon enough. Shame, with how pretty you were.

Soon enough, Eddie’s mood lightened up, amused by the witty banter his friends were spitting back and forth. Something Gareth said ended up being ridiculously funny, a feat that he’s familiar with, and it breaks the entire group into loud laughter, something that obviously disrupts the cafeteria. Eddie didn’t care, and neither did any of the other members of Hellfire. If no one would give them any decency, why the hell would they owe anyone else any?

As always, the laughter invited even more scrutiny. Eddie knew the reaction of the table you sat at, firing off insults surrounding the word freak. If they could just get original content, that would be great, Eddie thought as he looked back down to his notebook of campaign notes. He was in the middle of deciding which book he might need to check out for reference when Josh tapped his hand again, far more aggressively.

“What?” He snapped, but caught wind of what was so urgent immediately.

There you were, walking as if you were strutting a runway to his table. He thought he must’ve had it confused for a second, but after assessing the reaction of your previous table, it couldn’t have been less wrong. Eddie leaned over to the table to his friends, teeth gritted. “Be normal.”

After about ten minutes of awkward conversation, as a last resort you had asked what Eddie was working on. “Oh, the campaign for DnD.”

“Wait, you play DnD?” You asked.

Eddie wasn’t sure if this question was negative or positive. “Yeah, we’re a Dungeons and Dragons club.” Gareth answered for him.

“Oh sweet!” The answer stunned all of them. “Can I join?”

“You play Dungeons and Dragons?” Josh asked incredulously.

“Yeah, my dad taught me.” You replied.

“Drama room, Friday night at 7. Don’t be late.” Eddie said, finally making eye contact with you.

He regretted it from the moment he did. The beauty he saw from afar was only intensified by a hundred. You looked at the table with intrigue, much more interest than you ever showed at the jocks table. Eddie couldn’t believe how wrong he was to assume you would just assimilate with them. You were too good for them.

Wait, you were too good for his club as well, what the hell were you doing there?

If Eddie had any current quarrels with the universe, it was that you just kept getting better and better as he got to know you. He was prepared for your level one basic dwarf when you showed up with a level 59 Warlock. You kicked his boss’s ass, carrying the weight of all your co-adventurers.

From there, Eddie swore he must’ve gotten hit in the head somehow, because life just isn’t good for him, never has been. But with you, life is worth tolerating. From the start, he had fallen for you, and he still would have even if you did only have a level one dwarf.

As luck would have it, you would never turn down an offer to hang out with him. The first time he offered, butterflies sat in his gut until he walked up to your locker and offered for you to watch a movie at his house with him. You accepted graciously, asking if he minded you’d watch horror. Internally, Eddie fell to his knees. Externally, he nodded, keeping his eyes on what he called the prettiest damn eyes he’s ever seen.

He felt lucky you accepted his displays of affection with him, leaning heavily into his hugs and letting his legs intertwine with yours. His hair would stand up, your skin setting his on fire.

Lately, though, he could swear something is out to get him. As you started getting more comfortable being at his house so often, you started wearing smaller clothing. First, it started off with a pair of sweats and a messy bun. That tore Eddie farther apart than it should have. It turned into braless shirts and tiny shorts, and Eddie stared at the curve of your ass, usually half hard as you laid on his bed.

The first night he ran to the bathroom to jerk off to the outline of your nipple, he felt like shit, yet he wanted nothing more to mouth at it, to mark it his.

Eddie is so sure you’re innocent of it all, unaware of his lust and feelings for you. It started as feelings, but the lust has started to take over to the point where Eddie has to jerk off before you get there. He knows you’re going to bend over too much as you “help” him with making meals. As of late, the tiny pair of shorts barely conceals the outline of your cunt, something that tugs what could only be described as a whimper out of him, has been becoming all too much.

Eddie realizes he’s gonna have to ask you out.

After yet another unsuccessful Saturday night over at Eddie’s house– well, successful in terms of getting you out of your house but unsuccessful in the sense that Eddie just doesn’t seem to see you as a fucking girl– you trade your books to prepare for another boring lecture, watching across the hall as Gareth and Eddie seem to be in humorous conversation, judging on the laughter alone.

Eddie is nodding, appearing to agree exuberantly with what Gareth is saying to him. Might as well kill some time before class starts. You walk over, backpack on one shoulder as the weight from all of your books bounces off the back of one of your thighs. Just as you’re about to interrupt their conversation, Eddie makes eye contact with you. As a reflex, you break into a smile at his dimples. However, Eddie says one last thing to Gareth before walking away from their conversation.

You try not to take it personal. There are several jokes in Hellfire you have learned a long time ago to not take personally. However, this felt personal. Eddie doesn’t usually take part in the jokes at your expense. The boys give you enough crap for him anyways, and he gives them crap, and you give Eddie crap. It’s a wonderful circle of crap, really.

As soon as you approach Gareth, now alone, he gives you a half smile, clearly trying to dissipate from the awkward situation. “Hey,” Gareth greets you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning onto his locker to seem “casual.”

“What was that about?” You get straight to the point, nodding towards where Eddie had just walked away.

Gareth stutters through his words, adjusting his arms between crossed and placing his hand on his locker. Oh, Gareth, ever so graceful. “I-I-He-he-he just-uh—”

“Gareth!” You interrupt him, knowing he could continue his stammering for a while unless you stop it. “Just tell me!” You shove his shoulder, annoyed already. What reason could Eddie possibly have for taking off like that?

“We were just talking about the girl he likes, is all.” Gareth admits sheepishly, his eyes flicking everywhere but you.

“Oh,” you answer, feeling crestfallen. A girl? Eddie likes a girl? And hasn’t even had the audacity to tell you about it? Were you not his best friend? Maybe he’s your best friend, but you’re not his. You shake off that annoying voice of doubt in your head, knowing on some level it’s irrational. Then why didn’t he tell me anything? “Oh, he’s…never even mentioned a girl around me…”

Gareth knows exactly why you’re crestfallen, your crush on Eddie not the most exact unknown fact in your group of friends. “I don’t know, he doesn’t talk about it a whole lot…” Gareth trails off, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. It wasn’t exactly a lie; Eddie doesn’t talk about his crush on you. He barely mentions it. The only reason anyone in Hellfire knows anything…is because they have eyes.

“Oh. Alright.” You have to get out of this conversation before the tears that crept up behind your eyes make an appearance. “I’ll see you at lunch?” You don’t even wait for a response, already turned around towards a bathroom to get your shit together.

Gareth feels guilty as shit when he sees the way you shuffle off to the bathroom, your sniffles louder than you even realize. In fact, Eddie was just telling Gareth he was finally gaining the courage to ask you out. Unfortunately, your brain has already eliminated this idea altogether.

Eddie sits in his usual spot for the lunch period, a foot parked on the edge of the table as he leans back with his arms crossed, observing his friends arguing yet again. Doesn’t really matter what they’re arguing about, never really does. They could be arguing about which album of a certain artist is better, which class of character is better to play, or even which teacher sucks the most in the school.

They’re all pointless, and Eddie always has a final say in who wins the argument. Being the leader has its perks.

Even as he seems casual, he checks his watch occasionally because you’re still not there yet. He looks forward to your presence at the table, to the way you indulge in their idiotic fights, if only for a second. It never fails to amuse him. Usually, as of late, you’ve been picking a side just to piss off Mike, and he still hasn’t seemed to catch on yet.

Right now, Dustin and Mike are arguing over the stupidest thing yet, something not even worth mentioning. Lucas is trying to give his input that this isn’t worth fighting over, but they’re talking over him. Eddie wonders how long he’s going to let them hash it out for.

Gareth rolls his eyes as he watches Eddie’s face lights up as you finally make your way across the cafeteria to the table. You greet the entire table, letting your bag fall to the floor as you rest your chin on your hand.

Dustin immediately attempts to instigate you into the fight. “Hey, can you tell Mike that—”

“No offense, Dustin, but I really don’t care.” You interrupt him, sounding tired. The whole table but Eddie laughs at your answer.

This allows the table to segue into a different conversation, something that everyone can care about. Eddie takes the opportunity to lean in. “Are you not hungry?” He asks lowly, noting the lack of cafeteria tray you have today.

You can barely look him in those gorgeous brown eyes, your heart dropped to your gut the moment you heard he likes someone else. “Not really. Lost my appetite.”

His brows furrow, watching you avoid his eyes and sink into yourself. This was so unlike you. Usually, you’re much surer of yourself, an aura of confidence even he finds himself envious of at times. “Are you okay?” He asks again.

You shrug your shoulders, not committing to a yes or no answer. You finally lay your eyes on him, and he’s staring past you across the cafeteria, you follow his eyeline…directly to the cheerleader’s table. A realization hits you and somehow your heart drops even lower.

He likes a fucking cheerleader.

You should’ve known his type would be a girl who jumps up and down in a tiny skirt. Maybe you should’ve joined the cheer squad then. Then at least you would’ve had a damn chance.

Somehow, you don’t even have the appetite to sit next to him anymore. “Listen, I have to ask for help in my chemistry class, it’s kicking my ass. Um…”

Eddie is about to protest but you’ve already picked up your bag and started jogging out the large door of the cafeteria. In fact, you missed the rest of the school day to fucking wallow in this stupid heartache. Your mom doesn’t pay enough attention to the school's phone calls to begin with.

As you leave the cafeteria, Eddie gives a questioning look to his fellow Hellfire mates. Hell, if they know. Gareth knows, but they’ve made a collective agreement not to meddle, as much as it pained Dustin. Eddie was just gearing up the confidence to ask if you’d want to hang out that weekend, which is where he was planning on making his move for the first time. He didn't know what was upsetting you, but he figured it was something to do with your homelife, as it usually does.

However, he couldn’t have seen the next week coming.

As Eddie goes through the motions of barely making attendance and handing in assignments with maybe a paragraph of some bullshit he spewed, he usually has your pretty face to look forward to. In his second period, his leg bounces as he waits for you to sit next to him in your usual seat so he can have an opportunity to ask the damn question he’s been meaning to. He's in class on time for once, just to watch your pretty face as you walk to the back corner to sit with him. One benefit of repeating senior year is that he gets to have class with you now. If you could only see his face as it fell as you walked into the classroom and took the immediate seat right by the front door.

After an hour of over thinking, Eddie finally convinces himself you simply just weren’t in the mood for conversation. The way you avoid the Hellfire table when you walk into the cafeteria that day seems to prove that theory right. Until over the following week he sees you having conversations with other members of Hellfire. Alright, that hurts.

One day, he calls your name as you’re at your locker, and he catches your eye contact before you run towards the front door.

What the hell did he do wrong?

In your 7th or 8th day of narrowly avoiding Eddie, you end up having to walk home in a light drizzle. Usually you have your car, but your mom insisted on needing it for the day. On the occasion that she needed the car, usually you would grab a ride from Eddie. Right now, that just wasn’t an option.

You start to feel bad for the first time since your avoidance started. You saw how Eddie’s face fell every time you made eye contact and walked the other way. No matter how much you’ve wanted to talk to him, you just can't let your feelings go.

You just need distance. If you give yourself enough time, the idea of having to leave him so he can have date-night with another girl won’t send you into a mental spiral. If you give yourself enough time, you could stand the idea of listening to him gush about her. As of right now, there’s no possible way any of that sounds doable to you.

As you got up this morning, the weather was bright and sunny, warm on your skin. You wore a layered skirt and a tank top. Unfortunately, the rain was picking up slowly, and you’re sure it's going to be pouring by the time you get home, still another mile or two away.

You walk on the sidewalk, arms crossed over one another to prevent from shivering as much as you can, narrowly avoiding the splashing from tires as cars pass by. While the rain picks up, your ears barely pick up on a vehicle slowing down right by you.

“Get in!” You hear a voice, recognizing it off the bat.

You look up to face him, nice and dry in his van that he has pulled over right next to you. You can barely see him through the rain. You shake your head, continuing your walk home.

“Sweetheart, get in! You’re gonna get sick! It’s starting to thunder!” Eddie argues, driving slowly as you continue to walk.

“No, I’m fine!” You answer, your chattering teeth giving away your iron clad position.

“Oh, for fucks—” You think Eddie has given up, your eyes on the ground as you trudge forward, until you see his scuffed-up shoes in your direct eyeline. His firm hands land on the soft flesh of your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey. What the fuck did I do?”

Your eyes look up to him in surprise. “Huh?”

“You’ve been avoiding me for the last week and a half!” He yells, mostly because the rain has picked up so goddamn much.

“I-I just need space.” You tell him, attempting to get out of his hold.

“Wait, what? Why?” Eddie asks. Your eyes blink rapidly as you peer up at him, his curly hair already soaked from the rain. “What do you mean, you need space?”

You gulp out of both tears and frustration. “I just need space, Eddie! I need some time… to get used to it.”

You might as well have been speaking in tongues. “Get used to what? What the hell are you talking about?”

The words bubble up in your thoughts and through your throat before you can stop them. “You made it extremely clear that you don’t see me as anything other than a friend, and now you have a crush on some girl!”

Eddie couldn’t register a single word you were saying. It made no sense to him. “What?”

“I have made a complete fool out of myself! I basically put myself on display just for you to look at some girl shaking her ass in a cheerleader uniform.” You chuckle, wiping some rain from your face as it drips cold down your cheeks. “Maybe I should’ve joined the squad, then I would’ve stood a chance.”

“Wait, wait.” Eddie is having trouble processing any of this. “Can you please go from the start, sweetheart?”

“Gareth told me you like someone.” You admit, your voice faltering. “After sending signals for God knows how long, I guess I finally realize I’ve been making a fool out of myself with you.” You sigh, giving him the saddest look he's ever seen from you. “I just need some time to get over you.”

The information finally all seems to add up for Eddie. “Wait, sweetheart, back up.” Eddie says a soft smile landing on his face as he understands. “You-you like me?”

“Uh, yeah?” You answer, the answer obvious.

“And you think I like some cheerleader?” Eddie asks, pulling you closer to him.

God, this is torture. “I mean, you do, don’t you?”

He laughs, loud and…joyful. “God, no.” He says, and you nearly melt at the half smirk now settled on his face.

It's your turn to be confused. “Huh?”

“The girl I like is you, you dumbass.”

Suddenly your heart is in your ears, and you can’t think passed that smile on his face. The glint in his eyes is new, the look in his eye driving you stupidly crazy. “Wait, Ed, don’t fuck with me here.”

The hands resting on your shoulders float up to the shine of your cheeks, framing your face. Rain is dripping off his bangs and he’s nearly struggling through it but doesn’t seem to care. Truth is, he does not. All he can see is the shine of your lips from the rain. “Baby, I’ve been wanting to kiss those lips since the moment I saw you.”

Your breath hitches, staring at those lips you’ve stared at so many times. “Then what's stopping you?”

Your lips meet in the middle, rain colliding with one side of your face as you tilt your head. He takes the lead right away, your skin on fire as you are barely able to believe that this is real, and that he’s really kissing you. Eddie nibbles on your bottom lip, you let out a small whimper in response. Your tongue eagerly reaches out to meet his, the collision feeling like velvet. Eddie’s hand spreads out on your face, his limber fingers something you’ve fantasized about several times.

You continue to make out in the rain, one of your hands finding their way in his soaked hair. One hand is placed on the small on your back, tugging your body right up against his. Another whimper escapes your mouth, Eddie opening his mouth and breathing heavily into yours in a knee-jerk reaction.

Eddie separates from you, placing his forehead against yours. “You wanna get in now?” A half chuckle passes his lips at the sheer stupidity of this major miscommunication.

“Please.”

Eddie opens the back door to his van, already a blanket and pillow on the floor thanks to his habits in his free time. As you climb in, you squeeze the water from your hair, suddenly realizing you’re actually quite cold. Eddie observes your shivering. “Cold, baby?”

“Freezing.” You admit, grabbing a blanket folded in the corner. He helps you get wrapped up, rubbing your arms quickly. “I don’t wanna stop kissing you, though.” Another admission comes out just as easily.

“You sure?” He asks, walking on his knees to meet you.

“Just kiss me.” You tell him grabbing him by the jacket.

He chuckles as he meets your lips, his face dipping down to meet yours again. You fall backwards to lie down, tugging on his jacket so he lands on you. He giggles as he lands on his forearm right next to your head, all teeth against your lips as he smiles into you. Your legs curl up around his torso, tugging him impossibly closer.

“You have no—” He sighs, kissing you in intervals. “…No idea how badly I’ve wanted to kiss these pretty lips of yours.”

Your heart flutters as you giggle into the kiss, the compliments he showers you in too much to believe. “Ed, I-I want you to touch me…” You sigh, the blanket slowly falling off your body.

“Uh, don’t know if you know this, but I…I’ve never…” Eddie stutters, sounding nervous.

You let out a small huff of laughter. “It…it’s okay, Eddie.” Your hands entangle into the wet curls on his head. “Neither have I.”

Eddie lets out an audible gulp from the simple implications. “I think we should get off the main road before we start getting too into it, baby.”

“Oh, ok.” You tell him, butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

He sits back up, a noticeable tent in his pants making you feel flustered. You thought you felt something against your thigh, but mentally, you couldn’t fathom that he was hard for you. He extends his hand out for you, you accept it gratefully as he helps you scoot back out of the back. The two of you scurry to your prospective seats, the rain now coming down so fast your hair is soaked from the mere seconds it took you to get there.

Eddie pushes his wet mop of a head of hair to the side as he laughs with you at the scenario you currently find yourselves in. As he starts the van, he gives you a cocky eyebrow raise, the heat from the air vents surprising you in a blast. His heavy foot placed on the gas pedal surprises you, your head swinging backwards at the force.

Without asking, you know exactly where Eddie is headed. The drive takes longer than average, your nerves racking sky high as his strong hand holds yours absentmindedly.

The rain continues its assault from the sky, a flash of lighting reflecting in the water as you pull up to the edge of Lovers’ Lake. As Eddie brakes, your head falls back onto the fabric covered headrest, eyes closing as you place his hand in yours in your lap. The heat of your arousal is radiating off you, your thumb absentmindedly smoothing over Eddie’s.

There’s nothing you’ve wanted more than to be sweaty with him on top of you, but now that it’s about to happen, the fact is nearly overwhelming. As you soak in the sound of the rain on the roof of the van, Eddie presses his hand where you have it on your upper thigh, putting pressure on it. An involuntary whimper escapes your throat, and as your lungs fill up with air Eddie leans in across the gap of the seats, a chuckle leaving those sweet lips as he nuzzles into your neck.

A sigh leaves your lips as you can feel his teeth start to nibble lightly, relaxing into it. He places his other arm over you, coming up to rub your torso as his tongue delicately laps along your jugular. “Ed…can we lie down?” You ask, your eyelids starting to feel heavy.

“You wanna climb, or you wanna get out?” On cue, a flash of lightning hits right on the lake. “Climb?”

“Climb.” You agree, giving him your sweetest smile.

“Ladies first?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the back.

You awkwardly place your knee on the middle console your hands having a rough landing on the blanket covered floor of the van as you start to crawl forward. Behind you, Eddie appreciates the view, how your pink, thin panties beautifully showcase the outline of your cunt, still soaked from the rain. Well the rain and your arousal, of course.

You turn around, one leg bent as you wait for Eddie to climb over. His hand moves to turn on the overhead light, then he slowly crawls his way to you, the look in his darkened eyes sending a thrill up your spine. By the time his body lines up with yours, you’re giggling out of nervousness, wondering where this energy came from.

He hovers over you, the wide smile on his face as he switches between your eyes sending your nerves up into the atmosphere. Your legs open for him, accepting him as he lays on top of you. His hair starts to fall over your face as he leans in, his mouth deliciously open as he kisses you some more.

“Ed.” You mumble, moving your hands to where they seem to favour, the collar of his leather jacket. “Take this off.”

He hums as he follows your order, sliding the jacket off his shoulders as he continues to kiss you. Well, his multi-tasking is a bit jagged, but you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You admire his newly exposed arms sitting in his wet muscle shirt. He leans down to continue lapping at your neck again, adding more teeth to turn your neck purple, having stared at this part when you stretch out a kink or two from your neck.

You’re so turned on; you can feel it in your bones. “Eddie,” you whimper out, eyes closed as you give in to the way his tongue feels electric. “I need you to touch me, please.” You beg him, your pussy begging you for attention.

“Of course, baby,” Eddie gulps, and knowing him, you could hear his nerves.

“Hey,” you say, reaching out to hold his face. “I can help you, just reach out to touch me and I’ll tell you how to do it. I just need your fucking fingers on me, please.”

Eddie leans in, kissing gently along your jawline. “I know, maybe I just wanted to hear you beg.”

You roll your eyes, calling him out on his bluff. “Mmhmm. Just fucking touch me, Munson.”

Eddie’s hesitancy seemed to die right there, his unsteady fingers simply placed over the thin layer of your panties makes you gasp, just the light touch giving you some satisfaction. “You were saying?”

Eddie starts to lightly trace along the folds, noting how it dips right where your hole would be. Eddie can’t help but get harder as the heat from your pussy radiates. “Feels good…” you mutter, sighing lightly. “Just a little harder, please?”

“You want it harder, sweetheart?” He asks, you nod enthusiastically. “You sure?” You nod again, frustrated at his damn questions.

He puts pressure on his fingers, experimentally starting to circle them around. “Little higher, Ed.” You tell him as he just grazes your clit. He listens, moving his fingers a half of an inch higher and continuing. He moves his fingers just high enough, starting to circle perfectly on your clit. You moan out loud, letting out small gasps. “Right there, right there!”

“Oh my god.” Eddie mumbles to himself, watching your face crumple up as your legs fall more open. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you moan like this…fucking stunning.” Your moans grow louder, your thighs starting to tense. Eddie suddenly stops, and you whimper at the loss. You feel him start to move your panties aside. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, your head perks up, watching his face as he stares at your exposed pussy for the first time.

The heat in your pussy increases, tenfold, weeping just from his intense stare.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, mouth half open and his eyes don’t even blink. “Eddie?” You ask, starting to feel self-conscious.

“Wow…” he mutters, eyes finally locking with yours. “I knew your pussy would be pretty, I didn’t know it would be this ravishing.”

You gulp, feeling more wanted than you knew you ever could.

His fingers trace gently along your folds, just feeling your pussy. As he hears a whimper from you, a note of your impatience, he suddenly turns his hand upside down starting to touch with more pressure. “Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” He whispers. “All…all this for me?”

You’re wet for him more than he knows, but your mouth can’t even communicate it, your brain having gone dumb from his touch alone.

He licks his lips, starting to rub at your folds purposely. “Look at this pretty little cunt, oh my god…wonder…” he doesn’t finish his thought, but when his long digit makes its way in you, you can deduce what he was thinking. He slides it in and out slowly, the length of his finger reaching much farther than yours ever have.

Your breathing gains speed and depth, adding another finger and fucking you slow, yet perfect. “Eddie.” You moan, your slick dripping down your ass and onto the blanket. Eddie moves his fingers faster, looking at your face for your response. “F-faster!”

Eddie lets out a huff of laughter you don’t hear, too caught up in the pleasure. “Jus’ gonna…” He leans in, and his tongue flat against your clit yanks the first genuine moan out of you, the pleasure all encompassing.

“Just like that! Please, Eddie, so close, please!” You beg him, the orgasm sneaking on you as it hurtles toward you, just around the corner.

He switches up, still new to this whole thing, but he makes up for it by gripping onto the soft flesh of your thighs and starting to fuck his tongue into your weeping hole. His lips create a sort of suction around the length of your lips, and the heat that radiates into your thighs becomes too fucking much as your thighs close hard against his ears.

“Gonna…” it’s the only warning you can provide for him before your entire body tenses up, a primal moan leaving your lips. Eddie works you through your orgasm, holding your thighs held against his head and revelling in how you soak his lips. He’s pictured his nose against your pussy too many times to already be satisfied.

As you finally come down, Eddie is still fucking into you with his tongue, seemingly not giving up. You lift your head up, your thighs now loose as you peer at him. “Ed?” You ask, the sensitivity of your puffy lips causing your thighs to quiver a little bit. “Wh-what are you doing?”

His tongue leaves your cunt for only half a second. “’M not done yet.” It’s warbled, his hot breath right against you eliciting another whimper.

Your head falls hopelessly against the van floor, his thumb contacting your clit and tongue swirling against your walls, moaning into your pussy. As you’re still sensitive, the second orgasm starts brewing in your tummy quickly. “Eddie, it’s too much.” You say, attempting to squiggle your hips away from his relentless tongue. “Too-too much.”

“Mmm, ‘can do it.” He mumbles, doubling down on his pattern.

“Ed…Eddie!” You cum into his mouth, your torso involuntarily tensed as you raised, incoherent sounds leaving your lips as you wither beneath him.

As your thighs relax again, he licks a last few times, as if trying to collect all the slick covering your pussy. After one last time, he looks up to you, licking his lips as you recollect yourself. “Was that ok?” He asks, breathing heavily and sweating as if he just ran a marathon.

You give him a look of disbelief, eyes furrowing as you shake your head. “Was…was that okay?” You repeat back to him in astonishment. “Eddie that was…I-I it was… I don’t know who taught you to do that, but it wasn’t me, Jesus!”

He crawls up to you, smile on his face gloriously cocky. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh!” You confirm, your voice indicating that you’re stating the obvious.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says, mouth just hovering over yours.

“What a coincidence, been wanting you to do that for a while.” You smirk, switching your glance between his hypnotising eyes and his glossy pink lips. He finally leans in for a kiss, tongue reaching out to meet yours in a dance of straight up pleasure. “Ed…” You whine, bunching up the wet muscle shirt he’s wearing in your fists.

“Hmm?” He asks, slowly kissing you.

“I wanna help you.” You sheepishly admit, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Please?”

“Help?” Eddie asks, feigning ignorance in the meaning of your request.

“I wanna suck your cock, please, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a laugh in incredulity. “Holy shit, please.” It’s damn near a whine, music to your ears.

You giggle in response, finally the shoe on the other foot as you get to now hear those moans as a result of what you do to him, and not through his bathroom door. Experimentally, you reach down, feeling at the tent you’ve felt brush against your thigh as you made out with him. At the mere brush of your hand on the outline of his cock, he moans, and you bite your lip in anticipation.

One leg bends, using it to push and get him onto his back. You sit up, straddling him as you assess his astonished expression. As soon as you sit up, however, you notice the twitch of his cock right under your pussy. Your breath stutters at it, not realizing your bodies would line up this well. As if your brain knows what to do before even you do, your hips start rutting against him, alluring a moan in sync from the two of you.

“Oh my god,” Eddie whimpers, eyes rolling in the back of his head. If you could, you’d take a picture of him.

You giggle, attempting some ounce of self-discipline as you start to crawl down his body, already missing the twitch of his dick against your bare pussy. If just his dick against you feels this good, you wonder how great he would feel inside you, and you almost run out of patience.

No. You want this power: to be on your knees as he moans for you. Show some fucking discipline.

Your hands fumble as you undo the button on his jeans and Eddie lifts his hips as you move them down his legs. You want to tease him over his thin boxers, but the anticipation is too much, the need of the weight of what appears to be his thick cock on your tongue too great. You tug down his boxers, his cock popping out deliciously.

The look of pure lust you saw on Eddie is essentially copy and pasted onto you, your eyes darkening as you take in his length for the first time.

“Uh, baby?” He asks, watching as you’re stuck in some sort of trance.

“So pretty.” You mumble to the pink head, precum already pearling at the slit. Your tongue darts out, wanting a taste of the salt dressing it. You sigh in satisfaction, eyes closing as you wrap your hand around the base. Tentatively, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking gently.

“What a good mouth, oh my god.” He babbles, hands in his own hair in a haze.

If you could, you’d smile. Only knowing from a magazine with blowjob tips, you start to move your mouth up and down his length, barely able to take in half of it. Your mouth sucks harshly on him, moaning around him as slobber starts to gather at the base. As a way to get the spit off your hand, you rub it on to his cock almost in exact time as you continue sucking.

“Baby, baby, do that again.” He whines, his gasps audible. You follow his request immediately, moving your hand in tandem with your mouth. “Just like that, so good, thank-thank you.”

A sense of pride hits you, increasing your speed as his legs start to move aimlessly around under you. Your jaw starts to become sore, so you decide to experiment some more. You give one long lick from base to tip, chasing a vein that travels around his cock. At the skin around his base, you suck lightly, giggling as he lets out a deep moan. You recall one tip telling you not to neglect the balls, so you travel down to one, sucking on the ribbed skin empirically.

“Fuck—I—” Eddie stutters out between loud gasps of pleasure, eyes closed.

You lick under it, trying to get every inch of skin as your hand absentmindedly strokes him. Your tongue goes back for his now leakier tip, engulfing his cock to the furthest of the back of your throat you possibly can, your gag reflex choking on him.

“Choke on that fat cock, baby, fucking choke on it!”

His stern tone surprises you, yet still turns you on as you continue the choking, now on purpose. You slobber all over his cock, one hand travelling up to hold his hand.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so fucking close…” You double down on every action, his hand squeezing the life out of yours. “Gonna cum down your throat…fuck—”

Eddie lets out the greatest moan of all time, a salty thick substance shooting down your throat as you swallow it easily. You barely have a chance to taste it, too much coming too fast to keep track, attempting to swallow it all. His cock finally stops twitching in your mouth, and as your mouth leaves him, you leave a final sweet kiss on the bright red tip.

As you lift your head to assess him, you see the obvious way his chest breathes in and out, catching his breath. You bite your lip as his eyes stay closed, palm on his forehead as he recovers. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah?” You ask, having never given head before.

“Uh, yeah!” He says as if he’s stating the obvious, falling back on the blanket. “Mere.” He sits back up, grabbing you at the shirt and putting his lips on yours. You moan into his mouth, panting happily as his tongue makes contact with yours. “Fuck, did you swallow?” He asks, fabric of your thin tank top lifted by his hand on your bare skin.

“Mmhmm!” You confirm, giggling as he lets out a sigh of contentment.

Eddie lifts your shirt off, the light-yellow fabric see through from the rain. He throws it across the van, moving you onto your back with his hand supporting the small of it. As he lies down alongside you, mouth slowly moving against yours and a hand trails along your skin, setting it on fire, yet goosebumps appear on your skin in its wake. His hand reaches its destination, travelling under the wire of your bra and starting to play with your peaked nipple.

You whimper into his mouth as he plays with it, tugging on it and sending pleasure down your spine. Your hands leave from where they were stationed on his shoulders to your skirt, trying to move it down your hips. “No, no, let me.” Eddie laughs, his hand leaving your nipple and replacing your hands on your skirt.

He tugs both your skirt and panties down off your legs, moving down the length as he gets them off your feet. You giggle and take off your shoes with it, watching as Eddie finishes taking off his pants and shoes as well.

Eddie lands back between your legs, his eyes hungry, making you feel vulnerable. A single hand, ever ambitious, moves around your back to take your bra off. To your surprise, he takes it off single handedly, the bra snapping off your back as a cheshire grin of satisfaction makes its way onto Eddie's lips. Finally, you move your hands around his back to help him take off his muscle shirt, admiring as each tattoo is revealed, finally allowed to ogle him.

You bite your lip, admiring him in the low light of the van. Eddie falters for a second, gulping. “I…I don’t have a condom.” He admits sheepishly.

You giggle, smiling at him happily. “I don’t care about that, I just need you to fuck me, Ed.”

He smiles, leaning in for a sweet, lush kiss. “I…I have to tell you something.” He sighs, on all fours as he hovers over you.

Your stomach swoops nervously. “Um…okay.”

He lines himself up, the tip slight pressure against your hole. “Okay?”

You nod, now confused. Wasn’t he going to tell you someth-oh my god. He slowly enters you, the pain over taking the pleasure, but the feeling still phenomenal.

“So tight.” He grunts, arms still straight as he waits for you to adjust.

It starts to feel overwhelmingly better, Eddie pulsing inside you, you can feel every inch against your walls. “More.” You plead.

Eddie pushes in a bit more, a high whine leaving your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby, taking this big fat cock.”

“Cock feels…so good…” You sigh, eyes closing on their own accord. “Didn’t…didn’t you have something to say?”

He laughs, his cock twitching in tandem. “I do…”

“You’re inside me, and you’re still a tease?” You ask, humming as it turns to pleasure again. “More.”

Eddie pushes in a little bit more, licking his lips as he takes in your pleasure-stricken face. “A tease, eh?” He asks, wondering what you meant.

“Walking in with your chest still wet—” you whine, interrupting yourself, “the cut off sleeves you wear, mast-masturbating in the shower…more.”

“Just a little bit more baby.” You don’t know how he could be any deeper, you’re pretty sure he’s already at your cervix. “Wait…you heard me in the shower?”

You huff a breath of laughter, tightening around him. “Mmhmm. Sounded so fucking hot, I might’ve touched myself in your bed when I heard it.”

Eddie moves in a final time without your say-so, and you moan in surprise. “Sorry, baby, you just—you just took me by surprise. You touched yourself in my bed? When I was in the shower?”

“Only because I could hear you.” You admit, your legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him closer to you.

“You could hear me? I was so sure I was being quiet.” He admits, his breath hot against your skin as he lies directly against you.

“Not really.” You admit, biting your lip in embarrassment. “It was so fucking hot, Ed.”

Eddie sighs, peppering kisses against your skin. “Well, I was thinking of you and those thin pjs you wear, sweetheart, so I guess it was a mutual masturbation.”

“I wondered if that was working.” You admit, humour in your voice. Eddie shakes his head, everything suddenly making sense. He kisses you deeply, hips still stagnant as he allows you to get used to his girth.

“So, you had something you wanted to tell me, Eddie?” You ask, slowly caressing the side of his torso, lightly tracing the tattoos you come in contact with.

“Mmhm.” He hums, leaning down to kiss skin gently, any skin he could reach. “Thanks for remembering.”

You roll your eyes, starting to get antsy at his still hips. “Just tell me.”

“I’m telling you this, because it broke me to see your reaction after you thought I even liked someone else.” The heartache seems so far away now, especially since he’s currently balls deep inside you. “I don’t just like you, sweetheart.” He admits, his voice suddenly soft and sweet. “I’m in love with you. I have been in love with you for as long as I’ve known you, at least, I think…I don’t know. But I don’t want anyone else, never have, baby. I just. Want.” Unexpectedly, he lifts his lips, pulling a gasp. “You.” He bucks his hips once for emphasis, taking in the already fucked out look on your face as you take in everything he just gave you.

“Really?” You ask in a light whisper, breathing heavily. “You-you love me?”

“Mmhmm.” He affirms, his hips bucking out slowly yet again.

“I-I love you too, Ed.” You admit, your heart open and full, every part of you, full, as he slowly fucks into you.

The words take a minute to register, his hips stilling completely. It’s such a tease, the way his hips still after only mere seconds of starting their trek. You whimper as an answer, your hips lifting to silently request that he’d continue. “Ed?”

“Oh my god…” he mutters, slowly lapping his way down your neck. “I’m so crazy for you, baby, so fucking insane.”

“Can…you please move?” You request politely, legs tense at his hips as your cunt begs for more attention.

“Need this fat cock to fuck you good, don’t you, baby?” He manages out, voice with a hint of husk in it as he continues to kiss his way down your body. The dip of your collarbone, valley of your tits, biting at the areola, licking dirtily along the curve of your breast…as far as he could go without his cock leaving you. “Hmm? Just desperate for it, aren’t you?”

One side of you wants to ask him where he's come up with this, because it’s driving you absolutely wild. The other side doesn’t fucking care where he got it from, the pleasure from his delicate licks consuming you whole. At a loss for words, you nod your head.

He grunts as he bucks himself into you, this one harder than the last. “Oh? Can’t use your words, baby?”

You whine, feeling pathetic, and yet, ravishing in it. “I just want you to rail me, please, please, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” He asks, turning his lips into your neck again, muttering against your throat. “How bad?”

“Enough to think about you” you huff, heat floating to your cheeks, hesitant in saying it. Could he just…keep moving? Please?

His teeth graze your ear, nipping at it. “Wanna finish that sentence, love?” Eddie asks, his voice making your thighs clench together around his hips.

“Eddie, I've thought about you everytime I fucked my pussy with my fingers. I’ve thought about you fucking me more times than I can count.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know how many times I’ve fucked my fist praying one day it would be you…whimpering and whining for me.”

“Then turn me into a fucking mess, Ed. Please.”

Finally, his lips leave your throat and he looks at you, his grin manic as those adorable dimples finally give you that look you’ve been craving for what feels like eons at this point. His hips move into action, fucking you at a force that pulls feral grunts out of your mouth, sounds you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.

“Baby, your pussy is so tight, just pulling me in.” He grunts, one hand curling its way into your hair, pulling lightly at the roots.

“Eddie, your cock feels so fucking good. Fucking—keep going—oh my god.”

Eddie is torn between moaning, grunting, and thoughts that are never finished. His hand, nimble and huge, trails up and down your torso, your legs, touching every inch he can. Finally, two of his fingers make their way to your clit, rubbing it with fervour. Your pussy clenches around his length as he continually bucks into you, the mix of sensations too much, and yet, everything you’ve ever wanted from him.

“Eddie, can you please do something for me?” You ask, reaching out to hold his face with both hands and giving him a sweet kiss.

He sighs into your kiss, tongue connecting with yours, and you feel dizzy and high in pleasure. “Anything, angel.”

“Want you to call me a slut.”

He leans in for another kiss, much dirtier and much needier. His hips rut into yours desperately. “Yeah? Dunno if you’ve really earned it…” he comments, teasing you.

You don’t realize he’s egging you on, desperate for him in ways you didn’t think you could be. Your mind goes to the thing it was fixated on when Eddie once held your face, hands petting two fingers absentmindedly. You grab at the same two fingers, nimble and long, and place them in your mouth, sucking as you wrap your tongue around them.

Eddie’s mouth opens, jaw slack as his tongue pokes out. A shine appears in his eyes, glazing over as they fixate on your mouth. Your mind might’ve been tricking you, but you swear his dick twitches inside you. His hips have stopped…again. “Oh shit, my dirty little slut.”

You nod your head enthusiastically, rutting your hips up again, silently begging for more. You moan around him, eyes hooded, Eddie blurring in your vision from the steep want. Your teeth graze his fingers lightly, lapping your tongue over it when he whines. Around his fingers you choke, your mouth hot and wet. Your mouth leaves his fingers for a moment, light shining in the spit glazing your mouth. “Baby I need you to fuck me. Please, Ed. Please.”

“Listen to this little slut beg for it. Can you beg some more? Hm? See that pretty little mouth beg, just for me.” His low rumble only spurring you on further.

Eddie knows you love what that husky voice is saying as your pussy pulses around him. “Hmm. Eddie, please, please fuck me. Need that cock so fucking bad. You have no idea how much you turn me on, your rings, your arms, fuck, that pretty fucking mouth, those gorgeous eyes, oh my fucking god. I have needed you to fuck me for this last year, please, Ed, just rail me until I can’t think.”

Your chest is heaving, eyes slowly assessing Eddie’s reaction. A smile slowly creeps on his face, until it’s a smirk that sends a shiver right through you. Your eyes dart back and forth between his, anticipating his next move, biting your lip. The first thing he does is lean down to give you a kiss, that can simply be described as romantic. His tongue reaches out to connect with yours, gliding together in a dance that you don’t think you’ll ever get over.

Honestly, you think, if his kiss ever bores you, the person to your left better beat your ass for taking for granted how fantastic these lips are.

After a moment of just his lips on yours, lying together so unified, you aren’t sure where he stops and you begin. Slowly, his kisses move from your lips, down the dip of your neck, and he licks slowly up to your ear. “Hmm. Fuck you until you can’t think? Baby, I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

A moan leaves your throat, a hint of a whimper. His lips curl up more against your ear, a light laugh huffing against it.

Then, his hips get to work.

Every goddamn time Eddie stopped, every time he made you beg for him to keep going, whether it be silent or verbal, he makes up for it tenfold as soon as his hips start moving. He pushes up, using his hands to lift his body up and start fucking you at a relentless pace. Slowly, you recognize an annoying squeak fades in the background, the sound of the axel against his differential from his hips bucking wonderfully.

Not a word leaves your throat, the only sounds are small gasps falling from your lips, faster and faster as the pleasure impossibly grows within you. It feels like an aura of heat, radiating from your full pussy, and throughout your body.

“Feel good, baby? Feel that fat cock fucking you, good and full?” He grunts out from between gritted teeth.

You nod, whines leaving your throat, one shock at a time.

His hand on your hip tightens, nails digging into the doughy skin of your ass. “Hey, slut. I asked you a fucking question.”

“So good…so good…so fucking good…so fucking good. Ed-Eddie…I—” You’re cut off by your own shout, the way he hits hard, and deep, impossibly harder.

“Look at my cock-drunk little slut, taking this cock so well.” He mutters, voice deep and gasping for air. “Fuck, feels so good.”

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him so his forehead lands on yours, harshly, but in a way that makes him grunt…almost…animalistic…

“Cum…cum in me…” it’s a struggle to get out, but once it does, you witness Eddie falter for just a second.

“R-really?”

“Please, please cum in me. Want it dripping out of me, please baby.”

His hand stutters in its movements, sliding up from your hips, to your neck, hands gently raising on the front. “Want me to cum in you?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Want me to claim you as yours?”

“Been…been yours since I sat down at—ah—your table, Ed.”

“That’s fucking right, you have, you’re all fucking—all fucking mine.”

His hip movements are a little more jagged, his breathing heavy and jagged. “Harder.”

He chuckles, hand tightening around your throat, a grunt leaving your throat at each fucking hit. “Fuck…gonna—”

He cuts himself off, his cum filling you up deliciously in spurts of hot, white, mess. You go over the edge with him, your orgasm hitting you in a way that will have you fucking skipping around the halls of the school. You whine his name, choked out past his ring-necklace wrapped around your neck.

His torso collapses on yours, covered in sweat in the thick of the van.

His hand leaves your neck, both wrapping themselves into your hair. You seem to finally catch your breath, almost gasping as his weight is the most comforting thing you’ve ever felt in your life. He’s laid on you several times before, but never this intimate, his breath mixing with yours, making you feel whole.

You giggle, a smile that takes over your face in every muscle, completely lighting up. As much as you try, you can’t hold it in. It floats down your face and into your body, every limb full of complete joy. Eddie twists his head into your neck, you feel the wide smile he makes, gorgeous laughter leaving his lips against you. His teeth nip at your neck, making you giggle harder, hands flying up to your face.

Eddie leans up his face to see yours, the lazy smile lopsided, a pretty shine in his eyes. It’s…new…and radiant. You giggle again as you look up at him, your hands landing on each side of his rosy, glowing, cheeks. His skin is hot and flushed, your thumbs slowly caressing his face.

He leans in for another kiss, gentle this time, making you feel all too dizzy. A sigh of utter contentment leaves your mouth, biting your lips anxiously. “Hi, love.” He mutters, a lithe finger moving a strand of hair that fell into your eye. “Doin’ good?”

You nod, shyly rubbing your head into his chest. “Very good.”

He laughs, tilting his head up to face the roof of the van, still sheltering you from the sturdy and never-ending rain. “Fuck, rain hasn’t stopped.”

“It’s pretty.” You comment, observing the pattern of the roof his van. “I love the sound.”

He hums, eyes raking you over as he leans into you. “Not as good as the sounds you make.”

You roll your eyes, hitting his arm gently. “Eddie.” You giggle, legs wrapping themselves around him. “What a line.”

His lips softly land on your cheek, giving you a final kiss. “Not a line, just the truth.” He whispers, hands now preparing himself to lift out of you.

“Wait.” You stop him, holding on to one of those strong arms of his. “I��I really don’t want you to leave yet, baby.”

A laugh escapes his throat, in utter disbelief if anything. “Oh, we have plenty of time for cock-warming, gorgeous, don’t you fucking worry.” He assures you. “I just thought we could go to my house, make out and watch a movie, ya know?”

“Mmhmm.” You answer, still moaning at the loss that was too much to handle. “I just wanted to…revel in it.”

“Oh, I love you so fucking much.” He sighs, grinning at you as he crawls to his clothes.

You lean up into your elbows, a symphony of giggles leaving your throat as he tosses your panties into your face. “Can we make out on your couch?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Eddie tells you, curly hair that’s already frazzled from the humidity even crazier from the tryst. “Hell, you can ride me, let’s get out of his van before we both catch a cold.”

You put on the skirt he hands to you. “Both?”

“Yep.” He nods, also throwing his jacket. “You walked a mile in the pouring rain with no jacket on. You’re gonna be a mess this weekend.”

Nodding, you agree with him. “I mean I’ll be a mess either way, no?”

Eddie shakes his head as he puts on his shirt, giving you a look you’ve been dying for him to shoot you. As if he’s so lucky to have caught you.

He’s wrong, you’re the lucky one. The two of you finally finish getting dressed, meeting in the middle in your cold, wet clothes. You crawl into his arms, nuzzling his chest as he places a kiss on your damp hair. “C’mon, let’s figure out how far we can get into Halloween before ripping each other’s clothes off again.”

You giggle, climbing into the passenger seat. If it was up to you, the tape wouldn’t even make it into the VCR.

Your hand intertwines with his on the way there, your whole body relaxing into the fabric seats. He can’t keep his eyes on the road, glancing at you every five seconds. It’s hard to believe only twelve hours ago you were in bed cocooned because your heart was aching so badly.

Now your heart aches in a completely different way, and it’s from not being able to comprehend that you could love and be loved in return just as much.

The next morning, Wayne walks into his trailer to see clothes scattered along the hall. You didn’t even make it to the couch.

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson friends to lovers

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bitchlessdino · 6 months

Note

hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?

like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.

and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing

Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react

Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end

take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸

Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch

You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo.

His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.

“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”

The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.

When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.

His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.

You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.

Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.

If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him.

“Keep walking.”

Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”

You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.

With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.

“Good, keep it that way.”

Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”

Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment.

You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”

Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember.

“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”

The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:

“Fuck off.”

Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.

“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.”

You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”

There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.

“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”

He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”

Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.

You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”

“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”

Only because you never liked me in the first place.

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”

A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”

Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.

If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.

“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.

Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”

You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.

“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.

Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”

Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.

Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.

“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”

“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.

“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”

There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.

“Right,” he grunts.

She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.

You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”

“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”

You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”

“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”

“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”

He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.”

“Without an address?”

He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”

“She really needs to find a hobby.”

Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”

You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”

“I’ll take you.”

You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”

“Only people with a death wish.”

That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you.

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”

Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.

“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.

“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.

You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.

Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face.

“Fuck you.”

“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”

You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.

“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”

“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.

“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”

You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.

You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”

You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”

“Of course. Come in.”

You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”

“This morning. Early flight.”

You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”

“Nothing like home though.”

You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”

Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”

He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”

You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”

“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”

The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”

The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”

“Well, I should get going.”

“You’re going to the party too?”

You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”

“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”

“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”

He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”

You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”

You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.

Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.

Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.

The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.

Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?

You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.

“Wonwoo, come on!”

Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force. You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.

You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.

Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.

Then panic ensues.

People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.

“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”

You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.

“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”

Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”

“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”

He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.

“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”

“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“

“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”

“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”

His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”

He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.

“Shit.”

Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”

You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”

“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”

You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”

“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”

Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed.

“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.

“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”

He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”

You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”

He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”

“I’m not being like anything.”

“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.

The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”

Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest.

Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”

“Whatever.”

He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface.

“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”

“Sounds like bedtime.”

You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”

“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”

“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.

“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”

“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”

“What?”

“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”

You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”

You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”

“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”

“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.

“Thank you.”

“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”

He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”

“You were kissing.”

“You could call it that.”

“For a while,” You add.

“Just enough for her to find closure.”

“And did she?”

“Saved your ass before I could find out.”

You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.

“You asleep yet.”

“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly.

“Well, I'm tired.”

“Go to sleep then.”

“You should sleep before I do.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”

“Why? I'm a grown adult.”

“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”

“Ever heard of personal space?”

“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”

“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.

“I’m only trying to protect you.”

This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”

“That’s not why–”

“Stop lying–”

“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it.

You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”

“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”

“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”

“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”

“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.

“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.

“Then why are you such a dick.”

He sighs. “Sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“...Sorry.”

You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”

“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”

It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Okay.”

You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty.

Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo

With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.

You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping.

You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.

Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.

Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.

“Hey!”

You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.

“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”

You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”

“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”

“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”

“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”

“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”

He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.

If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.

“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”

“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”

“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”

You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.

He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.

You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”

“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”

You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”

“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.

The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin.

Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”

You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.

You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.

Man, he’s a large man.

“Kinda snug.”

You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”

He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”

“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.

“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?”

You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”

He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”

“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”

His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”

“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”

“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”

You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”

Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”

Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”

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