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widowbitessting · 9 months

Note

Hair pulling

-💭

💋Sugar Mommies Spicy Hour - A One Off Drabble🌶💋 18+ Only. Minors shoo. 18+ Only. Minors shoo.

Screw it you all deserve something.

All.

Three.

Of.

Them.

Including Baby.

There is just something so..primal...that each of the Trio! (and Baby) just adore about it.

Natasha, Carol and Wanda adore to be the ones pulling and yanking their darling's hair - be it in the bedroom (or anywhere they have you) during sex or at random parts throughout the day...just to cause a reaction...the sweet gasp…

Natasha loves to have you bent on all fours before her, strap burrowed into your tight pussy as she pounds into you - hands clenched into tight fists in your hair for leverage.

Carol loves to yank your head back, when she's spanking your ass red after being a brat for the better part of her day off work. Your body over her lap, ass adorned in expensive underwear, ass cheek adorned red from her hand. Your hair a mess around her fingers.

Wanda loves both, for obvious reasons. She loves that you're her first submissive that trusts her enough to explore her more dominant side; and one of her firm favourites is hair pulling. Now don't get me wrong - Wanda loves to pull your hair when she's fucking you or discipling you - but her favourite way is teasing. She sits you down for a film night, just the two of you; all cosy under a blanket with snacks and wine (and water) on the coffee table, a film of her choosing playing on the screen before you when suddenly, things in the film get a little more...steamy. And this is when her interest falls to you...watching you intently as you take in what's happening...the moans and the way a hand curls around someone's throat...you're mesmerised and unable to look away; even as your cheeks blush a lovely colour of red and your teeth sink their way into your bottom lip. When someone has their ponytail yanked, you all but stop breathing, and this is what makes Wanda smile. She twirls her hair casually, moving her other hand to rest on your lap which causes you to jerk. After a quick and meek apology, you find it hard to go back into the trance of the film. Wanda would wait though, until things cool down enough for you to let your guard down before her hand slips up into your hair and she pulls you close to her, grinning a toothy smile when you let out a incomprehensible stream of words as the shock overcomes you. "Enjoying the film, pet?"

But Wanda also loves to have her hair grabbed too...loves it when Natasha man handles her so roughly with only one hand in her hair and exposes her neck, just for the red head's teeth to sink into and mark it up. Or when Carol snatches her ponytail when she saunters past and slams her into the wall, whispering dirty secrets in Wanda’s ear. Wanda adores it, but she loves pulling your hair too.

Baby loves to have her hair pulled. It really isn’t a secret by the point. A small tug here; a painful yank there. She. Loves. It. But she also likes to pull hair. To get a reaction from her beloved girlfriends. Wanda is always 50/50; either a delayed reaction with fluttering eyes before she pounces or straight up trouble the second Baby tries. Carol will often goad Baby into trying to grab her hair, taunting her until her precious little sub snaps. And when she does? Oh Carol enjoys reminding her who is in charge. Now Natasha, Baby has only ever tried to pull her hair once. The second her fingers gave the slightest tug in the silky red locks, Natasha’s hand is on her wrist and she glowers at Baby; watching as the panic fills her eyes. Natasha’s fingers latch into your hair (or maybe around your neck, seeing as you pissed her off enough) before growling out; “You’re gonna regret that.”

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #carol danvers #reader insert #sugar mommies #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #smu #sugar mommies!asks #sugar mommies spicy hour #sugar mommies spicy hour 🌶#spiderbites #no minors allowed #18 plus only

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boxof-peaches · 4 months

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In case you were wondering what the rest of me looked like 🖤

#thick babe #thickaf #girls with tattoos #tattoos #girls with piercings #alternative #latina #personal #boxof-peaches #mine #18+ minors dni #18 plus only

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nicolegonewild · 1 year

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Spank me daddy!💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

#mine #sexy #of #butt #me #18 plus only

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4ngelw1ng · 1 year

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if anybody can help me find more poc on the not sfw side of tumblr, i'd really appreciate it ^_^

#not sfw #poc #18 plus only #no minors #!!!!

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slutauthority · 2 years

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reminder that I have a sideblog for femme fun if u wanna follow = @thefemmegf

#18 plus ONLY #don’t rb

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daintyytulip · 6 months

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in the darkest little paradise

#it’s me #spicy snap saw it first plus more 🫶🏻#18+ only #18+ content #nsft pics #nsft girl #tumblr girls #pretty girls #spicy content #spicy pics #small tiddies #natural titts

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boxof-peaches · 10 months

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Don't want to jinx myself, but I've made a backup account! Let's keep in touch 🖤 @peachedtfup

#backup #personal #me #18+ content #18 plus only #follow me

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nicolegonewild · 1 year

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Good morning! ♥️

#mine #butt #me #18 plus only

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ronearoundblindly · 3 months

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Lloyd Hansen x Reader kiss

On a place of insecurity

Warnings for LLOYD IS ALWAYS AN 18+ CHARACTER--he's f***ing dark, ok?? Elements of bondage, force-feeding, finger-sucking, use of toys, and body issues. Smuuuuuuuuuut. [Lloyd, uh, he has no problems with your body, though. Or his. 🥴] Minors DNI. There's plenty to keep you busy on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2731

⚠️Yo, this is graphic for me. 🙈 FINAL WARNING 🥵 I will see you in hell... 🥂🧁💃🏽💦🥴💀

Most of the time, when covered, none of it bothers you, the pieces of your body that aren’t just-so, the remnants of things you liked that have since evolved into…more. That’s the truth of it. There is simply more of you than there used to be. Some of it is fine; all of it should be, but a perfect outlook is impossible when staring at your reflection in the luxurious, crimson nightgown he’s bought you.

A lot of the not-so-perfect can be hidden in the dark. It can be hidden by focusing on him and ignoring yourself. It can be glossed over with little lies like “the bigger, the better” and “more to love.”

Lloyd didn’t bring you something tiny to squeeze into. There’s a seam of support in the satin that tucks under your breasts, so those look nice. It’s long to your ankles and tapered wide enough to fit your hips. You have to suck in your stomach, but that’s nothing new. Only one great flaw remains, and spaghetti straps aren’t doing shit to cover it.

The fucking armpit fat.

Your little roll of shame and frustration that no matter how you hold your shoulders or position your arms is just there.

“You like all your presents, sunshine?”

Lloyd pops around the bathroom doorway, taking a huge bite out of one of the cupcakes he bought, pretty, pink-frosted, red velvet things covered in sugar pearls and edible glitter.

All of the adornments get stuck in his mustache, but he remains unfazed. He’s a man who likes to be looked at but doesn’t care if he’s seen.

And he's a messy eater…of certain things.

You don’t exactly have that same confidence. Impulsively, you smooth the nightie over your hips and run your tongue over your teeth. Since Lloyd is not typically a giver--of gifts or anything else--this whole night is an unknown.

He does love to make people uncomfortable though; that’s one of Lloyd Hansen’s greatest joys.

“Looking good enough to eat,” he says with a smack of his frosted lips. He rounds the frame, another cupcake in hand as an offering. “Here.”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

A knee-jerk reaction. A practiced statement. Little lies.

He downs the rest of his cake with a satisfied pout, dramatically fitting his mouth over the tall, decadent dessert, as he stands flush to your back in the mirror. He squints at something off with the picture and oh-so-carefully fixes a strand of your hair.

He’s looking very, very intensely, and you hope he’s seeing nothing at all.

His eyes flicker down to your stomach. “Wearing the panties?”

You nod.

“Then get your sweet ass on that bed. I’m waiting.” He spanks you, smirking.

As you nudge past him, the thick pearls of the beaded thong roll through you folds and over your clit, dry but smooth. When you sit on the mattress, you lean on your arms, attempting to push your chest out and flatten that curve just above them.

Lloyd sidles over to stand at your feet, holding up your cupcake again, one eyebrow raised mockingly.

“Maybe later,” you shrug, but your voice comes out breathy. It’s difficult to keep your stomach taut at this angle and speak at the same time, but his gaze is unrelenting.

He sucks his cheek in and lets it click, clearly disappointed, but after a beat, he puts the food down on the bedside table and picks up a thin, silver remote.

“That’s twice, sunshine.”

Holding the controller up by his head, Lloyd presses a button two times and the pearls between your legs spring to life. The beads vibrate. They are Lloyd’s beads.

“Up—“ he points “—hands up.”

Though your thighs fight to stay clenched, you move, shifting up the soft comforter, gliding over embroidery in your silky sheath. When your back hits the headboard, your arms go above your head, crossed, just like he likes you.

Out of his back pocket, he pulls out jeweled cuffs, an oddly festive addition to an occasion you didn’t think he’d give a shit about. Lloyd never struck you for a Valentine’s Day lover, much less a lover of Valentine’s Day, but who would go through all this without at least some enthusiasm for the holiday?

The remote for your thong gets tossed into the covers while he climbs over you.

“Now,” he instructs with a smile, deftly snapping one bracelet over one wrist, stringing the short lead through the rungs of the iron headboard, and securing the other tightly. He scoots backwards to haul you down the bed with him, the nightie bunched up to the fullest part of your hips and the vibrations pushed deeper into your cunt. He leans over you carefully, hands on his own clothed thighs, and sharpens his attention.

“Is there anything in my ’stache?”

You burst out laughing because, indeed, it does look like an arts and crafts hour exploded in the coarse hairs.

Lloyd chuckles, too. “No? Okay, then let’s—“

“Yes,” you squeal before he can smear the sticky glitter onto your neck.

“Help me out then.” He inches closer to your mouth, pouting. “Go on. Clean me up.”

Dead serious, Lloyd shoves his lips into yours and lets you keep pausing to laugh between licking and scraping the icing off with your teeth. This is the cutest, stupidest thing he's ever done, and yet, also, somehow romantic?

You finish with a peck to his actual lips, and he reciprocates.

“Good girl,” he coos. “Good, little liar, you are hungry.”

Abruptly, he dismounts the bed and begins undressing.

“Why do you insist on doing that?” He untucks his shirt and rips it overhead. “Haven’t I done well?” His voice is strained with annoyance. His belt clinks as his pants hit the floor, boxers and all. “Aren’t you happy?”

The only item left on him is the gold chain necklace he never takes off, so resting his hands on his hips, waiting, becomes quite the distracting sight.

When you don’t answer, he presses down on the bed beside you, bare ass in the air. “Little liar…I asked you a question.”

You nod forcefully, biting your sweetened lip and switching the position of your legs. The shimmying pearls are slick now. The sensation takes your focus.

Your whole body twitches when Lloyd nuzzles his face into the side of your stomach. It can’t be rocket-science to know that you suck in as much as possible, but he sure as shit can’t miss that you’re tensed.

“Well, if you can’t be honest with me,” he fake-whines against your gut before lifting his head, sighing, “I’m going to assume what I want is best…”

The vibrations intensify, the toy getting louder, but you can’t see the remote in his hand.

“…whether you like it or not.”

Don’t you always, you think, because of course that is the point, and if you had to bet, he means anal, probably mildly degrading. At least you’ll be facing away, or bent down. He makes it feel good but only since it happens to be pleasurable for him, too. That kind of attention from him doesn’t bother you. It feels like being looked at but not seen. You exist but you don’t matter.

Usually.

Tonight has been entirely different. He’s giving orders, but the commands save him no time. They prolong your exhibition; they amuse him. Lloyd is playing with you on Valentine’s Day, and his idea of fun is torture.

You rub your thighs together at the mere thought.

He notices that, and Lloyd’s face lights up.

“Liars—“ he props himself on his elbows, reaching for the pooled satin still covering your core “—get punished, right?” His eyes twinkle. The gown raises with his fingers dragging over your skin, and he hums approval. “Let me see.”

Clenched in this exact spot, the beads bring you so close you’re almost shaking, and you can’t find the will to move. The current is too powerful.

Lloyd is stronger and far less tolerant.

He hops back up to the bed, immediately sliding his hands between your knees and forcing you to spread wide. The rush of exposure cools the building steam inside you, body pinned down beneath the stark naked man half-chubbed and bobbing atop you.

He replaces the hands holding your legs open with his knees and reaches to the bedside table.

He’s brought the other cupcake, perhaps to eat while watching you come, perhaps to have you clean off more remnants, but Lloyd doesn’t bring the treat to his lips.

He pinches your side harshly.

“Open up,” he says with grin.

This is wicked even for him.

Your arms pull at the restraints on instinct.

“Uh-uh. Remember, I know best.” His smile isn’t dimmed in the slightest as he lowers the cake to your mouth.

It’ll be worse if you don’t just get it over with. He’ll make you do it somehow, some way, so you open up, struggling to fit the towering frosting without crumbs going everywhere.

You eat.

You chew and you swallow and you tell him you’re happy.

And this time he sees. He makes little noises as if he’s the one feeling the cake melt in his mouth, as if he’s experiencing the different textures of silky cream and tiny crunchy pearls, as if he enjoys the melding of the gritty glitter with the rich dough while he relishes the last bite.

Before you even finish chewing he’s watching all of you again, hands roaming your satin second skin.

“Such a pretty fucking liar,” he groans, unabashedly staring down at the glazed beads stretched across you from clit to asshole. The thong isn’t enough to get you off in this position, and the tease of release forces you to roll your hips, failing to find friction, humping the air inches below his now rock-hard cock.

“Look at you! Nice and plump like I like ya.” He slaps your inner thigh. “Wouldn’t be the same without this jiggle.” At the word, he shakes your love handles and enjoys the ripple across your body.

You almost protest but the cake has coated your throat and made you salivate. It’s difficult to clearly speak.

He doesn’t fucking care; he’s playing.

“Can’t have you go hungry… Like your mouth stuffed, don’t you?”

Lloyd forces two of his sticky-sweet fingers onto your tongue, anchoring them with a firm thumb curled beneath your chin, digging ever-so-slightly into the soft flesh past your mandible.

“And now that you’re not starving—“ the index finger of his free hand laces under the top pearl “—you can focus on more important things.” He sweeps his finger down, the entire bent knuckle entering you only to drag out again.

A shiver races up your spine.

You try to ask for more, more anything, but you can’t budge his fingers.

“Focus, cupcake.”

Lloyd leans down, low enough to press his face to yours, his cold necklace slithering over your décolleté.

“Jiggle for me,” he husks in your ear.

His free hand continues to grope and squeeze at you, anywhere you’d rather not be on display, everything you don't want under the spotlight of his attention.

“Let go,” he growls when he catches you still contorting to the most flattering stretch you can manage. His fingers press warningly in your mouth.

Whatever you do or don’t do in response is not enough for him, and he straightens one leg out at a time, unpinning you only to shove his full weight back down, his abs muffling the sound of the pearls as they get sandwiched between you.

“I have to do everything.” He sounds so mad even though he guides your ankles to cross behind him, even though he rocks his hips with yours.

And then the worst possible thing happens.

Fingers deep down your drooling throat, Lloyd Hansen latches his lips onto that little roll above your breast, and you come. Just like that, a man practically tongue-fucks your armpit fat, and you goddam yelp in the heat of your orgasm.

It’s exactly what he fucking wanted.

You shake while your cunt spasms, empty save some toy jewelry and the proximity of a chiseled torso, and, yes, pieces of you jiggle. You can’t do shit to stop it. You don’t want to because he made it feel so good.

Of course, he continues.

His mouth moves down to the satin seam of the nightie where your tit is spilling out. He bites at your nipple through the fabric. He tickles your sternum with his facial hair and stops thrusting his erection where it pokes at your ass. All of this he does while you keep coming.

Nonchalant, unhurried, Lloyd takes his fingers out of your mouth, sits back on his heels, and engulfs the base of his cock with a vice grip, letting the thong overstimulate you for a good three-count while he sucks his teeth and ponders.

He finally reaches over to switch off the vibrations.

You’re gasping after a copious amount of spit has dribbled to your chest and spread.

His eyes have never looked so dark.

“You’re right, sunshine. We shouldn’t waste a drop.”

Faster than you can register, he unlocks the cuffs and lets you put your arms down to regain feeling, still using his spit-lubed fingers to smear over his length.

He ignores how you baby your wrists after the unpadded metal and pinches your jaw open, elated when saliva immediately flows out.

“Just like to look at you this way,” Lloyd sighs.

He peels the thin straps of the nightie down your arms and plucks out each breast, humming in appreciation at the heft of them. He rises to his knees, pumps the underside of his length over your slick sternum before encasing it in your warm flesh with a brutal hold.

His breath comes heavy and jagged behind his smile, so fucking pleased with himself and his plan, gold chain bouncing on his chest in mimicked rhythm.

“More,” he hisses, knowing you’re watching—gawking, really,—so your head drops to glob spit on his peeping red tip.

This view is just as engrossing. You see the full girth of him displace the volume of your tits, choked mushroom head seeming to drown beneath the wave only to leak for salvation at each crest.

Lloyd’s babbling provides the commentary for how far gone his control is.

“Think of all I can fit in you—unf shit—could fuck your thick thighs or—oh—tuck in between those ass cheeks—long as that fucking mouth of yours is full—pussy better be juicy as a ripe peach when I slide in...”

Even when you aren’t allowed to see his face, the strangled cry of him nearing climax is enough make your clit throb with hope for more.

“GAH! That’s it. Here you go.” He pushes up harder from beneath you, remaining in the embrace of your chest as the first spurt of cum hits your bottom lip. “Show me—show me you’re a good eater.”

There is no hint of a question. He knows you only need praise to obey.

Lloyd milks himself into you agonizingly slow, unhinged moans tumbling out the more you suckle his head, and true to his word, he makes sure not a single drop is wasted before finally releasing your sore breasts.

Still panting from exertion, he pushes you back on the bed by the throat and kisses you, tasting of salty-sweet cream, or rather, that’s probably you by now. He pulls back to let out a whoop of satisfaction and dismounts.

Though you have yet to sit up, too dazed to recompose without a hard reset, Lloyd tosses a water bottle between your legs. You snatch it up with all the speed of slug dried out by the sun and chug nearly half before tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

Shit, if this is what it feels like to be looked at and seen, maybe bigger is better…

You think there will be more of a break since he’s gotten off, but instead Lloyd sucks his teeth, demanding your attention as he picks up another two pink-frosted cakes.

“Time for your next course, pretty thing. The night is young.”

Steve Rogers and a kiss after a small rejection ⬅️ ➡️ Jake Jensen and a kiss to shut them up

[Main Masterlist; Valentine's Fics 2024; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

#ro answers #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen smut #18+ only #valentine's day fanfic #valentine's day prompts #plus size!reader #curvy!reader #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x fic #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen fic

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mariscopia · 1 year

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on // off

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 year

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Call You Mine

Pairing: EddieMunsonxPlusSizeReader

Request: @harringtonfan4 here you are darling! Hope you like it.

Eddie x plus size reader

Eddie x reader (Dustin’s sister ) have been friends for a long time he’s always had a thing for her but didn’t have the guts to tell her the last couple of weeks he’s noticed she has been sneaking off with Steve harrington (unknown to him they are just planning a graduation blow out party for Ed’s since he’s finally graduating) he starts to let his jealousy seep through little by little refusing to remove his arm from around you while staring Steve down running to beat Steve to get you a drink or snacks during group activities leaving Steve and the reader to try to figure out what his deal is …one night they are holding hellfire at readers house and you are upstairs with steve instead of with eddie watching the campaign….he comes over late one night to sneak in her window and sees them in the middle of a party planning session but thinks something else is going on finally his jealousy gets the better of him. He bursts into her room professes his love and tells harrington your his he can’t have you…. Reader lets eddie know there’s a misunderstanding ends with fluff maybe ending in smut Whatever you feel this is just kind of an outline tweak anything you would like

18+ Only

Eddie’s eyes bore holes into you and Steve, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, as the two of you wandered off again, whispering and giggling. You’d been sneaking off with him for the last couple weeks. Today you told him you didn’t need a ride after school because Steve was getting you. Monday night you bailed on watching Hellfire when it was at your own house to hang up in your bedroom with Steve. The rest of Hellfire had wondered what was going on when Eddie could barely focus on the campaign. Tuesday you told him you couldn’t make it to his show because you had to study for a test but when he’d driven by your house, there was that goddamn BMW parked in your driveway.

He was starting to completely lose his mind. Eddie just knew the two of you were hooking up and he couldn’t stand the thought. King Steve’s hands roaming over your ample curves, his mouth tasting all the places that Eddie had dreamed of at night alone in his room, his face buried between those beautiful breasts that could smother him. Yeah, Eddie had fantasized about going out that way. Fuck, it would be glorious.

He was in love with you but you didn’t know that. He’d started crushing hard on you from the moment he met you. Eddie had tried to control it, to stamp the feelings down, because you were Dustin’s sister. He didn’t think the little shrimp would be very happy about Eddie having the hots for his big sis. It started as just raw, physical attraction, but over time, the more time he spent with you, there was no pushing it down. There was no making it go away. He was a complete goner. You owned him completely. You just weren’t aware of it.

“Why the hell is your sister hanging out with Steve so much?” demanded Eddie, lighting a cigarette as he leaned against his van, watching the burgundy douche car as it headed away from the school.

Dustin shrugged, “No idea. I mean, they’ve been friends for a long time. They’re probably just doing friend stuff, you know.”

“What kind of friend stuff?”

“I don’t know. You know, friend things. Like, things that friends do together,” squeaked Dustin, instantly causing Eddie to be suspicious. Dustin Henderson was a lot of things, but a good liar was not one of them. His voice got all high and squeaky when he was being dishonest.

“Oh, you don’t?” challenged Eddie, crossing his arms, eyebrows raised with doubt.

“No, man. Why would I know?” Dustin asked, sounding like a prepubescent boy as he grabbed his backpack and began walking backwards away from Eddie. “Look, I gotta run. Mom is making dinner and she’ll be pissed if I’m not home. I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Movie night?” He turned and raced off through the school parking lot.

Yeah, that little shit definitely knew something he wasn’t sharing.

______________________________________________________________

You sat on the couch between Steve and Eddie at your house. Robin had brought over a few movie choices from Family Video and you had all agreed on ‘Howard the Duck.’ Well, to be fair, you and Robin had been outnumbered. The guys had all wanted to watch this strange movie about a duck who rescues some girl rocker and, most disturbingly, almost has sex with her. You couldn’t understand what the hell you were watching.

You also didn’t understand what was up with Eddie. He’d been so weird the last few days. He sat with his arm around you, glaring over at Steve every few minutes. Steve kept looking at you questioningly but you had no idea what was going on. He’d done this yesterday after school too. When Steve showed up to get you, Eddie flung his arm around you, staring Steve down like he was challenging him to a duel or something.

You’d asked Steve if he had pissed Eddie off somehow but he couldn’t think of anything. You were both at a loss but Eddie better get the hell over it. After all, Steve had been helping you plan the massive graduation bash you were putting together for him. He was finally graduating on his third try and you wanted to make sure he had the most epic party to celebrate.

“I’m going to get a pop,” you said, desperate to get out of whatever awkward situation this was.

“Oh, I can…” Steve started.

“No, I got it,” Eddie interrupted quickly, leaping from the couch and into the kitchen.

Steve leaned close to you, muttering, “What the hell is going on with him?”

“I have no idea. He’s being so weird. Are you sure you didn’t piss him off somehow?”

“No. I mean, what would I have…”

But his words were cut off when Eddie strode back into the living room, his eyes hard as granite as he looked at you and Steve. Moving to you, he handed you your pop, and then placed himself between you and Steve on the couch, wiggling his ass so the two of you had to scooch over to allow him to fit. Then the arm came again, almost possessively holding onto you as he shot Steve a look before propping his Reeboks on the coffee table and leaning into you.

“What other movies did you get, band geek?” he asked Robin who was looking at the three of you in confusion, her nose wrinkled, mouth hanging open.

“Oh, uh…we’ve got ‘Stand by Me’ and ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’,” she answered, raising her eyebrows toward you but you just shook your head slightly, having no answer to her silent question.

“Well, since you guys just made us sit through a very uncomfortable scene that bordered on beastiality, I think we get to pick this time,” you stated. “And I say, ‘Stand by Me.’ Robin?”

“I’m good with that,” she shrugged.

“Okay, I’ll put it in,” you offered.

“Nah,” Eddie said, his arm tightening its hold, pulling you in closer to his side. “Harrington can get it. We’re all comfy.”

“Uh…yeah, okay,” Steve agreed.

You turned to Eddie, frowning, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said breezily, “why wouldn’t I be?”

But he definitely didn’t seem okay.

______________________________________________________________

Eddie looked up at your bedroom window. It was midnight but your light was still on. He couldn’t sleep. He had to see you. He had to know what was going on with you and Harrington once and for all. It had been another week of you constantly having excuses why you couldn’t hang out and he was now entirely convinced that you were seeing Steve. It was eating his insides apart slowly.

Getting out of his van, he darted quickly across your front lawn and grabbed onto your drainpipe, climbing up. Grabbing onto the overhang, he pulled himself onto the little jut of roof just outside your window. He raised his hand to knock on the glass but stopped, gutted by what he saw in front of him.

There you were, gorgeous as always, those creamy thick thighs hanging out of tiny sleep shorts, as you sat cross legged on your bed. But you weren’t alone. Steve sat across from you. You laughed at something he said, leaning forward, providing Harrington with what, Eddie was sure, was a delicious view of cleavage, that itty bitty sleep tank barely containing your glorious breasts.

He should just leave. He should go back down that drainpipe, get in his van, and let you be. You were clearly happy but he couldn’t do it. You weren’t supposed to be happy with Harrington. You were supposed to be happy with him. Eddie gripped the bottom of the window and shoved it up hard, causing the glass to rattle in the frame and you both jumped, looking over at him.

“Eddie?” you asked. “What the hell?”

“You can’t have her!” he yelled, pointing at Steve.

“What? I can’t have who?”

“Eddie, are you okay?” you questioned, looking up at him with concern.

“No!” he bellowed, causing you both to jump again. “No! I am not okay! You can’t have her Steve! I love her! She’s mine!” Eddie turned to you, eyes imploring. “Princess, you’re supposed to be mine. You can’t be with Harrington because you’re meant to be with me.”

Your eyes went wide, eyebrows almost reaching your hairline, “You think me and Steve? Eddie, no.”

“Nah, man, we’re not together,” Steve assured, shaking his head. “This is a huge misunderstanding, Eddie. Her and I are not seeing each other.”

“Then why are you spending so much time together? You keep bailing on me for him.”

“We’re planning an epic graduation party for you, you dingus,” you huffed, rising from the bed. “I wanted to make sure you got the celebration you deserve for all your hard work this year. Steve was just helping me plan it.”

Eddie’s eyes darted between you and Steve, realizing the mistake he’d made and then realizing the confession he’d just made. Those warm, brown eyes went wide with fear as they fell back on you.

“You know what? I think this is a good time for me to head home,” Steve announced, grabbing his jacket. “I feel like you two probably have some stuff to talk about and you don’t need an audience for that. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Eddie, did you say you love me?” you asked, his words from earlier sinking in now that the tension had eased.

“Uhh…” He ran his hand over the back of his neck, looking up at you from under his mess of hair. “Maybe. I mean, yeah. But I thought…you know…I mean, we can pretend I never said that if you want to. I might have lost my shit there for a minute. I probably shouldn’t have said that. Damn it. You know what? Maybe I should just go too.”

Eddie turned to leave but you placed your hand on his arm, stopping him. He inhaled slowly and spun to face you again, preparing himself for the worst. No, he hadn’t told you because you were Dustin’s sister but he also hadn’t told you because he’d never believed someone like you would ever want someone like him. He didn’t know if he could take you rejecting him. He didn’t know if he’d recover.

“Eddie, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Seriously? Because look at you, that’s why!”

You glanced down at yourself, confused, “What are you talking about?”

“Princess, you’re perfect. You’re gorgeous. You’re way too damn good for me. You could have Harrington, King Steve. What do you want with some trailer park trash like me?”

“Eddie, you’re not trash,” you stated, angry that he saw himself that way. “You’re beautiful and you’re kind. You make me laugh. You go out of your way to make me feel better. You make me feel safe. I love spending time with you. And…I don’t want Steve.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I want you,” you told him, grabbing onto the front of his denim vest. “I’ve always wanted you, from the moment my brother introduced us. I…I love you too.”

“You do?” he asked timidly, as if he couldn’t believe the words you’d just said with your own mouth.

“Yes,” you laughed. “Why do you think I went to all this trouble to plan you the best graduation party this town has ever seen? I have been in love with you for months. I just…I didn’t think you’d feel the same way.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I definitely feel the same way,” Eddie professed, his usual confident swagger returning now that he knew you felt the same way he did. His hands came to rest on your hips, pulling you against him. “Jesus Christ, can I kiss you? I’ve been staring at those lips for months.”

You took his face in your hands in answer, pulling his lips to yours. They were just as soft and supple as you imagined, molding to yours perfectly. When his tongue pressed past your lips, meeting your own, your knees wobbled, heat shooting straight to your core as desire like you’d never known coursed through you.

Eddie moaned into the kiss, backing you up until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you tumbled back onto it. He fell over you, bracing himself with his hands as his lips found yours again. His fingers toyed with the strap of your camisole as he pulled back, his eyes searching yours.

“Is this okay?” he asked and you were touched by him seeking your consent. You nodded, biting your lower lip as he dragged the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, baring your breasts to him. “Jesus Christ, they’re even more perfect than I imagined.”

Then his face was buried against them, burrowing between your ample mounds, hands kneading the flesh of them. His tongue traced over your nipples, fingers and mouth everywhere, taking his time as if he were memorizing every inch of you. He took one of your nippled between his teeth and you cried out, eyes closing, your back arching up off the bed to press yourself more fully against him.

“Can…princess, can I taste you?” Eddie questioned, so goddamn adorable in how uncertain he was.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you breathed. The amount of times you’d imagined his tongue on you, his fingers, him inside you…you couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

He slid your shorts and panties off, his hands coming to your knees and pressing them open, putting you on full display. Eddie moaned, lying down on his stomach, nuzzling your center with his nose. You whimpered at the slight touch, rolling your hips toward him, desperate to feel his mouth on you.

“Shit, baby. The amount of time I imagined burying my face between these beautiful thighs,” he breathed, his lips trailing kisses across one of them and then the other. He pressed a soft kiss to your core and you whimpered, your body wracked with need.

“Eddie, please,” you pleaded, thinking you couldn’t take much more.

“Such a needy girl,” he rumbled, burying his face between your legs and you groaned in a mixture of relief and unbelievable pleasure.

Your hands tangled through his hair, gripping it, holding him against you as you rocked your hips. Eddie was expertly working you with his tongue, his hands coming up to your breasts, squeezing and kneading before his thumbs and forefingers were rolling your nipples.

“Oh my god…Eddie…” you gasped, your thighs trembling, eyes rolling back.

“Mmm…so beautiful,” he mumbled against you, sucking your clit between his lips. “You are even more perfect than I dreamed.”

Your grip on his hair tightened as your muscles clenched in anticipation of the orgasm that was quickly approaching. Eddie sensed it and his tongue began making lazy circles, keeping you on edge but not sending you over just yet. He was stretching this moment out, relishing finally getting to do what he’d only dreamed of alone in his room.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, grinding yourself against his face but he wouldn’t give you what you wanted. “Eddie, please. I need it.”

“Patience,” he crooned, his tongue running from your clit down to your entrance. As his tongue explored within you, you writhed beneath him, your body craving release. “I’ve been waiting too long for this to let it end so quickly.”

His hands roamed along your body, gripping your soft flesh so deeply, you knew you’d have imprints of his fingers tomorrow. That only turned him on even more, the thought of everyone knowing that you were his. Eddie’s mouth left your center, exploring every inch of you from your ankles to your forehead, nipping and kissing each new piece of skin he encountered.

“Oh my God…” you mewled, shuddering beneath him, your body teetering as he pressed two fingers into you, his thumb roaming over your clit. “I can’t…Jesus Christ…please…”

“You’re mine now,” he growled, his mouth marking your breasts, your collarbone, your neck. “I want to watch you come beautiful girl. I want to hear you scream my name. I want the whole world to know you’re mine.”

“Yes…fuck yes…I’m yours,” you whimpered, hips rocking needily against his hand, your body wound do tight you thought you would explode if he didn’t let you orgasm soon.

“That’s a good girl,” Eddie smirked and then he curled his fingers and sent you straight to heaven. Your body locked, arms and legs rigid, back arching, as you screamed his name. Your muscles trembled violently with the tsunami of sensation that ripped through your body, finally getting release after so much tension.

“Oh fuck…Eddie…Jesus…that was…fuck…” you mumbled, your head rolling to the side.

His thumb and forefinger took your chin, turning your head to look at him, “I told you that you were meant to be mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agreed, gasping as his lips crashed against yours once again.

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