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rustboxstarr · 1 year

Text

Who brakes first?

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Girlfriend reader (Plus size)

Summary: Eddie mentions his ex girlfriend in a situation where she is far from welcome.

Warnings: Jealousy, talks of Eddie past relationship, SMUT, P in V sex, unprotected sex, Fingering, oral, flirting, sexual tension, brat reader, dom reader, dom Eddie, couple fighting, revealing clothes, male masturbation, squirting, creampie

Wordcount: 5k

Masterlist

IF SMUT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE DONT READ!!!!

“What did you just call me?” You asked sternly, looking up at your boyfriend hovering above you, his cock buried inside you clearly sucked into the moment. “What?” He asked, stopping looking down at you confused, “Did you just call me a slut?.. During sex?” You asked stunned.

“Well yeah…” he answered cautiously “Why?..” you continued with a tone “I thought u would like it” he whispered trying to kiss your neck. You grabbed him by his hair and pulled him off you “Why would you think that?! You know I hate degrading!” You exclaimed. “Well Marcy liked it wh-“ he started “You did not just bring up your ex while we’re having sex!” You shouted, stunned.

“No, no-“ he started again ”Get off me” you scrambled underneath him pushing him off you and jumping up off the bed. “No baby, I’m sorry” he started, naked on the bed, still hard and looking at you scrambling to find your clothes.

“Wanna pull that shit with me? We’ll consider yourself banned” you said sternly, he chuckled at what he thought was a joke but when he was met with your angry look he stilled “what banned?”

“Yeah, banned, as in no sex, no touching, no kissing, no licking” you said as you pulled your jeans over your legs. He laughed “You know I’m not the only one who enjoys it” you tried clicking your bra on behind your back quickly. “Yeah well I have control over my own libido unlike you” the bra just wouldn’t want to sit on you so you grabbed it in one fist and threw it at his face annoyed.

You picked up a shirt and pulled it over your curves. “I can so control myself!” He argued “Like hell you can, YOU’RE ALWAYS HARD!” he scoffed at that.

“WELL DON'T COME CRAWLING TO ME WHEN YOURE HORNY” he shouted at you as you stormed through the trailer.

“Trust me, I won’t” you sneered as you picked up your shoes and stormed down the steps. With his hand covering his crotch he stood in the doorway watching you stomp up the street. “Oh you so will!”

“Everything ok?” Max asked across the drive feeding the neighbours dog “Yeah- yes everything’s fine, have a nice night” he slammed the door and stomped back to his bedroom pulling his boxers back on.

“Hey honey!” Your mom chirped as you walked through the door. “Weren’t you staying at Robin’s tonight?” She asked curiously “Oh, she got a late night shift last minute so I thought I may as well go home” you quickly came up with a lie. “Ah ok” you stormed up to your bedroom.

You woke up the next morning the previous night forgotten but as you opened up your closet to find an outfit for the day it all came back to you.

“Don’t come crawling to me when you’re horny” you whispered in a mock tone and scoffed. “This’ll show him, he’ll come crawling to me” you picked the hanger off the rack and got dressed.

An hour later you walked out to your car, wearing a black silk dress draped over your curves, winched by a corset belt and two long cuts up to your mid thighs, a mid section draped between your thighs when you sat. Combat boots and makeup with too much blush, big eyeliner, big lashes and pink full lips, your hair in a loose bun held up with a pencil.

Rocking up late you walked through the door to English catching the attention of the class and Eddie who’s mouth gaped. “Sorry for the tardiness, it won’t happen again, I got.. caught up” you said maybe a little too seductively to you male English teacher.

Eddie wanted to play games, you could play games too.

You walked through the aisle and sat down in the empty seat in front of Eddie. You bent over to your bag and took out your notebook and slowly slowly you pulled the pencil out from your hair and loosely let your hair drape over your shoulders.

A poke in the back and you whipped around to see Eddie holding out a note for you. You rolled your eyes and grabbed it.

“What are you wearing???”

You scribbled your answer back “New dress”

“U still mad at me?”

“Hmm what do you think?”

He began writing his answer back as the teacher snatched the piece of paper from his hands. “No passing notes, you should know this” he told Eddie as he read the paper. He crumpled it up and you couldn’t help but grin at the action.

”Alright get into groups of three and start working on the assignment” the teacher announced minutes later. You ended up in a group with Gareth and Eddie..

The dress pushed your breasts together and you placed your elbows on the table and leaned forward “So how do we want to tackle this?” You asked, looking at Gareth. He couldn’t help but glance at your plump breasts, he cleared his throat “Uh.. eh… we could.. I dunno’ start with a mind map” Eddie looked extremely annoyed.

“Yeah sounds great, I’ll go get paper” you smiled as you stood up from your chair. Swaying your hips a little you walked up to the front of the class to get your paper. Gareth’s eyes were fixed on you as you bent down to pick up some paper from the bottom shelf.

He got jabbed in the chest by Eddie's elbow “Stop looking at her” he gritted his teeth “Yeah” he coughed “Sorry”.

He glared at you as you sat back down, you met his gaze and simply smiled politely at him.

Your adhd kicked in and you bobbed your leg underneath the table to stimulate yourself. As a result your body moved to, your tits slightly bouncing up and down with the rhythm of your leg.

Eddie placed his hand on your thigh underneath the table to soothe you, something he normally did when he noticed your small ticks. You quickly moved your leg away and told him “No touching” with an angry look.

He shut his eyes tightly and moved away “What’s up with you guys?..” Gareth asked cautiously “Yeah Eddie, what’s up?” You turned to him “None of your business” he sneered at Gareth.

The class ended and the two hour study hall began. “Let’s go outside and play soccer. It's amazing out today!” Dustin ran up the hall to talk to you, Gareth and Eddie, Mike, Lukas and Will running up behind him.

“Hmm yeah ok” Gareth answered.

You ended up outside on one of the tables with your legs crossed talking to Max, Eleven and Nancy. Robin running around with the kids playing soccer.

“Jeez it’s hot out” Eddie ran up to the table, slipped his jean jacket off followed by his leather jacket. He grasped onto the neck of his shirt and pulled it over his head “Ooohhhh” robin shouted from the back, seeing Eddie take his shirt off.

He placed it on the table, placed his hands behind his head and stretched. Clearly showing his happy trail, his tattoos and torso. He sighed and ran back to the game.

You swallowed roughly and clenched your thighs together. “Wow, what is this tension?” Nancy asked dramatically. “Ugh, we had a fight yesterday and he’s trying” you rolled your eyes and breathed exasperated “seduce me”. They laughed “Why is he trying to seduce you?” Max asked with a grin “We’ll he did something yesterday, during.. you know, and I didn’t like it” you started “What did he do?!” Robin shouted right behind you, she had gotten tired of playing and ran over to you guys.

“He just called me something I didn’t like, anyway then he said that Marcy used to like it” “What?!” Robin interrupted. She looked from you to Eddie to you to Eddie and back at you “Yeah I know!” You exclaimed “anyway I said he was banned from well all that” Nancy laughed “That’s how you do it!” “And he said I couldn’t last without him, so now he’s trying to seduce me and I’m trying to annoy him” you told them.

“Well it’s working cuz you look-“ Robin looked you up and down “just amazing” she breathed. “Haha thanks” you told her.

“Ooh you know what you should do! Flirt with someone, Gareth! He’s got a major crush on you!” Nancy exclaimed “He does?” You asked “Yes!! Omg wait. GARETH! GARETH COME HERE!” He stood waiting to be passed the ball as Nancy shouted for him and began walking over.

“Nancy oh my god.. no please” you pleased embarrassed as he walked over. “Gareth, you have an eye for style, what do you think about Y/N’s outfit?” She asked giggling.

“Go on, give him a twirl” she continued, you glared at her and stood up, awkwardly turning around to show Gareth the dress.

Eddie stopped in his tracks to see Gareth watching you intently as you turned around, his eyes drifting to your ass.

“Yeah is- it looks great on you” he stammered, “Thanks” you beamed. “Ya wanna see her without it?” Max joked “w-what?” He was stunned. Eddie watched from a distance and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, why don’t you take her inside?” She joked again “Are- are you serious?” He asked nervously “No she’s just kidding” you giggled and grazed his arm.

“Oh” he laughed nervously. He sat down on the table and faced you. “You’re cute when you’re nervous you know” you said as you placed your hand on his thigh and slipped it up and down. He coughed “Ya think?” He asked, some confidence reawakening.

“Does this make you nervous?” You asked seductively, you took a step and nestled between his thighs as you saw the first behind him swoon and react at your actions.

“A-a little” he told you. “Good” you smirked. You brought your face up to his ear “Now go back and play your soccer game like a big boy” you whispered. Just as you were about to pull away an idea hit you and you bit his earlobe lightly, bringing it with you as you pulled away.

He coughed, cleared his throat and stammered “Yeah- yes will do” he hopped off and walked awkwardly to the goal. Everyone noticed Gareth's hands resting on his crotch as he tried awkwardly to adjust himself.

“Oh. My. God” Nancy swooned “oh my god oh my god” “That was amazing!” Robin announced “What did you tell him?” Eleven asked curiously. You leaned forward and whispered seductively “Now go back and play your soccer game like a big boy”

They snickered and giggled at you. “If that’s not gonna get you an apology I dunno what will” Max said. “Ok lunch!” Eddie shouted from a distance.

He stood closely behind you in the queue to grab your food, he gently breathed on your neck, making you shiver. Stay calm, you’re winning, just play it right and he’ll be at your mercy you thought to yourself.

You smirked a little and backed a single small step. Your ass was pressed lightly to his crotch and you heard him gasp. He took a small step, his cheek tickled by your hair, his hand went to lightly be placed on your hip.

IN a natural response, you closed your eyes and let your head fall onto his shoulder no no come on you can do this you thought and quickly snapped up taking a step forward. “One plate of nachos please oh and an ice lolly” you smiled at the grumpy lunch lady.

She gave you your tray and you made your way to sit at the usual table. Eddie joined short after sitting at the head of the table with you to his left.

You ate your nachos in conversation with the rest and then opened your ice lolly. A wicked grin flashed on your face as you looked at Eddie, he noticed your face and his own fell. He knew exactly what you were going to do.

Pretending to listen to Dustin's story you wrapped your lips around the pink sugary hard substance and sucked on the tip. Eddie clenched his fists trying not to watch you.

You sucked hard on the tip and let it go with a pop. Robin snickered and flashed you an equally wicked grin then looked towards Eddie who was trying to listen to Dustin explaining how he put Principal Higgins in his place with scientific facts.

She couldn't help but snort as Eddie's eyes flickered towards you. A drop was making its way down the ice cream and you stuck your tongue out and licked up the side to gather the liquid.

“Mmmmmm” you hummed “this is so good” you told Robin “Oh I’ll go get one, Nance come with me” they walked off and u saw them pointing at you giggling. You just grinned at them.

“Why don’t you get a room then?” Eddie asked sarcastically. “Oh I would get a room with this ice cream if I could” you played along and sank the stick into your mouth. He closed his eyes and you could tell he was imagining the picture you were giving off.

Licking and sucking his cock just as the many times you’d done before but still it got to him.

“Hey Gareth, you want some?” You asked sweetly “Sure” he chuckled as he took the lolly and tried it. He handed it back and bullying Eddie, you made eye contact with him and licked up the side of it before popping it in your mouth.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom” he said “What to jerk off?” You asked grinning “No..” he thought for a second “unlike you I can control myself” he snarked. “Sure you can big boy” you patted his thigh as he took a deep breath before standing up. He made sure to get good luck at his girlfriend before walking off. He needed a mental picture of you.

He walked out the door not turning around.”Well I’m going for a cigarette” you announced, grabbed your tray and bag and walked off.

The nearest toilet was a men's bathroom and you quickly slipped inside. A light sound of skin on skin could be heard from one of the stalls and you kneeled down to check the stalls. And sure enough there were dirty white sneakers stood on the floor.

You quietly snuck into the stall next to him, stood up on the toilet and peeped over the edge, sure enough there he was, his large hands wrapped around his thick length, his eyes closed as his head rested against the wall.

“Not jerking off huh?” You asked, announcing your presence. “Jesus ch-“ he jerked and scrambled to cover himself before looking up to see it was only you. “Oh fuck you” he said panting.

You hopped down and walked out the stall. The lock on his door clocked and you stepped inside making sure to lock it behind you. “You suck you know” he said sitting stood up and buttoning his jeans. “Oh.. I know” you said snarkily. He chuckled at your joke.

“Told you you’re always hard” you joked again as he sat back down. “I know..” he admitted sheepishly. He spread his thighs and you nestled between them, his hands quickly went up to rest on the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place.

“Do you forgive me?” He asked quietly “Hmmmm only if u buy me dinner” he chuckled “oh” you pulled your torso away from him and pointed a finger at him “and don’t you ever bring up her again, ESPECIALLY not during sex” you said sternly.

He chuckled but then looked at you seriously “I won’t. I promise” you were brought back to him with the force of his arms and you sat down on one of his thighs. Your side nestled into his stomach.

“Tell me something about her that’ll make me feel good” you said matter of factly. He chuckled again, “Well she was never as sweet” he wrapped his arms around you “or as cute” he booped your nose “or as warm” he hugged you tightly “or as generous, or loving, or happy, or manic” you giggled at his remark at your diagnosis thinking back to the times you’d danced around in his trailer to the music he was playing.

“Or as smart or as pretty” he continued. “Or as hot..” his voice went low “Continue” you commanded him with a grin “or as sexy” his hand moved to your thigh “you have nicer curves” you grinned. “these thick thighs that can lock my head to this pretty little pussy” you snorted at him. He wrinkled his nose at you but continued “oh my god and your huge tits” he rolled his eyes and took a deep breath “and your ass” he slapped your behind lightly and grasped onto it digging his fingers in. “Oh and I actually love you”

“And she never made the pretty little sounds you always make” he grinned up at you “See now you’re making me horny mentioning that” you complained as you moved your hips on his thigh.

“What? Thinking about me pounding into you with your pretty little hands tied behind your back as I pull your hair and devour your beautiful body” he teased. You hummed at his picture and grinned against his thigh again.

The bell rang and Eddie made to stand up “Noooo” you complained, you stood up with him and he used his body to push you against the wall. With his hand in your hair and one on your hip he whispered in your ear “if it wasn’t for that stupid bell I would fuck you right here, but I guess you’ll just have to wait for that last bell to go off so we can go home and I can actually listen to all of those who boosting sounds you make”.

You giggled as his breath tickled your neck and licked your lips with his. He kissed you deeply and then pulled away. He fumbled with the lock and walked out the door as you followed him.

“Is Wayne still out?” You asked as you walked with him down the hall. His finger interlaced with yours “Yup, wanna sleep over?” He asked, smiling “What do you think??” You joked desperately, earning a laugh from his lips.

By the time the next two classes had passed the neediness had passed and you were back to your dominant self. You walked out to the parking lot with your friend “Will you give me a ride home?” Robin asked, looking at you with the death stare, she clearly wanted to talk about you and Eddie. You looked over at Eddie who was slightly annoyed and turned back “Yeah sure but I cant hang out, I'm busy” “What are you busy with?” she asked judgingly “I have to eat some more ice cream” you joked and Eddie laughed.

“Soooo…. DID YOU HAVE SEX IN THE BATHROOM?!” Robin asked excitedly. You laughed “No we just talked” “Oh, well that’s boring” she commented. “Yeah yeah but it was cute, and like he told me how much more he loved me than her and like how he loves the little things I do” “oh ok well that is cute” she told you.

“You know how I’ve always been a bit curious as to if he actually loves me or if he just said it cuz I did?” “Yeah?” “Yeah well he said the words “oh and I actually love you” like compared to Marcy”. “See I told you you had nothing to worry about, I mean I’ve seen how he was with her” you scrunched your nose “just let me finish. And he was never as loving or cute with you. OR THE CONSTANT PDA!” She shouted.

You giggled, the PDA had always been something she hates but with you Eddie was all about showing his love for you.

Once you’d dropped her off you made your way to Eddie's trailer. The door swung open the instant you pulled up and you laughed at his eagerness.

“Hey baby” he kissed you as you walked by him. “So what do you wanna do?” You asked sweetly once you’d kicked your boots off and was now a head shorter than him “I think you know what I wanna do” he raised his eyebrows. “Watch movies and eat ice cream! Yes! I love that idea sounds great” you said happily and plopped down on the couch.

“That’s not really what I had in mind” he looked down at you “oh right, sorry crisps. Go get them” you commanded as you switched the tc on, The Goonies was playing “omg! YES!“ you cheered as he reluctantly got crisps and dip.

He set them down on the table and sat down next to you as you cuddled into his side. You watched intently as his hand moved your hair from your ear and lent down to whisper “you know what’s good for couples after they’ve had a fight?” He asked “what?” You asked as you watched the TV. “HAVING SEX!” He shouted, earning a laugh from how desperate he was.

“Oh is it now?” You asked turning towards him “it is” he stated as he switched the tv off “well if you say so” you joked “I do” his hands came to your shoulders and he pushed you away to lie on your back on the couch.

He crawled over you and your lips connected. His damp lips met yours with depredation and passion and you sighed against him, it felt so nice, I bet he never kissed Marcy that way.

“Now let me make it up to you” he said seductively as he dragged his chin over your chest and rolls of your stomach. He pushed the mid section of the skirt up and gasped. What he was met with was a lacy black thong nestled between the cheeks of your ass.

You giggled as his fingers moved your panties to the side and within a second his tongue was running through your folds up to your clit. He gently licked the bud on the top of your cunt and you jerked. He laughed at your reaction and continued. Wrapping his lips around your bud he sucked for a second, and licked it. You moaned slightly at the sensation “there’s this pretty little sounds” he commented and you laughed.

He licked gently again and soon his finger teased your opening and pushed in. Your back arched and your head flew up as your pussy was met with thick long fingers. You moaned as he started to thrust slowly.

“Oh god” came from your lips as he sucked on your clot and he began thrusting quicker and within seconds you were panting and moaning at his pace.

Suddenly the door opened and you screamed. Wayne walked through the door to see a horrifying sight. Eddie whipped his head around to see his uncle stood in the doorway and quickly retracted his fingers from you. “Not on the couch!” He complained. You scrambled up and rushed to Eddie's room repeating, sorry, I’m sorry shit sorry.

Eddie stood up from the couch and wiped his face with the back of his hand. Wayne shut his eyes “Sorry man” he apologised. “Why are you here anyway?” He asked confused “I came” he walked over and picked something off the kitchen table “to get my wallet” he held it in the air “I forgot it” Wayne said.

“I’m going now and won’t be back till tomorrow, you better not make that poor girl do something she doesn’t want to do” he pointed his finger at Eddie. “I would never do that!” He exclaimed.

“And treat her with respect!” He said as he turned around and shut the door.

Eddie laughed and walked towards his room to see you hiding under the dove of his bed, your face into the pillows. “It’s ok, he’s gone” he laughed. You groaned into the pillow “it’s ok babe he’s heard us before” he joked as he lay down on his bed “what?!” You gasped. “You know you’re not very good at being quiet” he laughed “oh shut up!” You pushed him off the bed. “You know you love it!” He joked as he punched on you.

You lay uncontrollably under him as he kissed every inch of your face. He pulled away “now let’s get back to the soul shattering world ending make up sex we were about to have” he said as he rolled on top of you.

He kissed down to your mound and then kissed all the way up your thighs. He dove under the covers and went back to devouring your pussy. You couldn’t stop the question that was lingering in your brain from coming out of your lips. “Do you ever do this with Marcy?” His head popped up over the covers “what?” “You know, kiss her like you do and kiss her thighs and go down on her and stuff”

He looked at you with his eyebrows raised “Y/N why are you thinking about that now?” He asked concerned “So you did?..” you asked cautiously “no, that action is only reserved for really amazing women” he told you and dove back under to covers.

“Are you lying?” You asked as his lips met you can’t again “No!” He shouted from under the covers “Do you love me?” You asked “Shut up and I’ll show you how much I love you!” He shouted back from under the covers and you giggled. It was a stupid question really.

You felt him rustle under the covers as he licked you but you were too wrapped up in the action to wonder what he was doing. Moaning loyalty and moving in the bed, bucking your hips up to his mouth he stopped and started kissing up your belly again. You giggled at him.

Me steeled on top of you to kiss your lips and as he did so he quickly pushed his whole naked length into you. You gasped, not ready for him and your whole body jerked upwards. He chuckled at you.

“Holy fuck, shit, holy god, oh my god” you rambled no sence as he thrusted quickly into you. You moaned loudly into his ear. He grasped on to your thighs and pushed them up. He moved around and placed them onto his shoulders with his hands placed on either side of your hips he thrusted into you as fast and as hard as his body could muster.

You screamed at how good it felt, he’d never fucked you’d like this and it was a whole different sensation. “That’s right scream my name” you moaned his name as you looked up as his screwed up face with your mouth opened wide. “Good girl, that’s my good girl” he praised.

“You like this huh? Never been fucked properly by anyone else have you?” He was riling himself up “oh my gos- yes fucking hell, YES!” You screamed as he pounded into you. “Never ever been fucked by anyone like you do” you moaned, boosting his ego.

“That’s right, no one treats you as good as this” he growled “NO ONE” you screamed. “Fuck fuck” he pounded into you, you felt an unsustainable sensation boiling in your stomach and before you knew it clear liquid was shooting out of you with the most extreme power.

“Holy fucking shit!” He gasped as he saw you squirt right on to him. “Holy fucking shit!” He repeated as he fucked you harder. You were screaming now instead of moaning as the liquid shot up at him, coating both of you and creating a slippery surface for him to bump into.

The bed was getting soaked but the streams never stopped coming. “AH AH AH” you screamed as it finally stopped and you were left under him still thrusting into you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your whole body began shaking, it looked like you were having a seizure.

Grasping on to the sheets for dear life your body was in mid orgasm. Eddie watched you completely stunned as his own orgasm rushed over him and with a groan he pushed in a final time, his cum forcing itself into you.

Both panting he watched you as your back was arched but head forced into the pillow, your eyes rolled back in your head as your whole body shook.

He fell together on top of you once he noticed your orgasm had cooled down. Both panting he laughed “have you ever done that before?” “No!” You shouted stunned and panting, he laughed.

“Holy fucking shit, well now I know what my new favourite position is” he told you, you couldn’t answer. “I mean JESUS” he continued “now that’s how to make a guy feel proud of himself and possessive as shit of you. I’m not letting you out of my sight like” he continued.

“Are you ok?” He asked cautiously from your lack of answers “yea yes, that was just.. just.. WOW” you exclaimed. You lay your legs down on either side of him panting. “I’ve never cum so hard in my life!” He chuckled and pushed some of your hair out of your face. “I mean it just didn’t stop” you continued.

You lay snuggled in the wet bed for a while. “Ok now let’s get you cleaned up” he pulled out with a squishy pop and stood up, his muscles tired. He helped you up onto your wobble legs and walked you to the bathroom.

The two of you showered quickly, Eddie made his bed as you pulled his clothes from his closet and slipped into them.

Minutes later you were nestled into his chest in his bed “bed make up sex ever” you mumbled into his chest “Best makeup sex EVER!” He shouted, making you laugh.

205 notes · View notes

barbiecrocs · 1 year

Text

Hard to hate.

Eddie Munson

tags! enemies to lovers, no piv, no spoilers for s4, oral (female receiving), fingering, teasing, pet names (princess), name calling (dingus), hair pulling, cumming in pants, underage drinking

I think that's it. Lemme know if I missed something.

WC.5,433

Barbies note...So I mention the Cityman Nokia but that came out in 87 so the story is set really early 87 and they are abt the graduate. Ik the time line doesnt make sense, but dont worry abt it😝. Anyway, enjoyyyy

You loved your friends, and it's been a while since you've last hung out, but what you wouldn't give right now to be home alone with a bag of hot fries and some horror flicks. Yeah, sure you said, "Steeeeeeeevie, we should kick it at your house tonight." Making finger guns at him while everyone piggybacks off of that thought. Robin butting in, "Fast times?" She nods with two thumbs ups directed at an unamused Steve.

"Ugh, again?" Nancy complains, rightfully so.

"What, it's a good movie." Robin gestures to you as back up, but you put your hands up in defense, not wanting to pick sides. It was a good movie though, but at the same time, it was worn out.

"No, that movie is so run through by all of us. How many times have we rented it from Family Video now? For heaven's sake, I'd rather watch a horror movie at this point!"

"Wow, Nancy. Daredevil, you. Maybe we a porno instead or something. Eddie wouldn't mind, nor would Steve." She teases.

And that's where you exit the convo. At the name drop of Eddie. Your eyes flicker around the video store, eye catching titles such as Nightmare on Elms Street, Sixteen Candles, and Fame pop out at you before you catch Steve mouthing a Fuck you while giving you the jack-in-the-box middle finger. Cranking and cranking until it pops out. You give him a playful smirk and an eyeroll, typing in the 'F•r•i•e•n•d•s' group chat that's name was always being changed to some joke like 'Brad's bud-lings' or Linda's Bralette. All Fast Times references made by Robin, each one deserving an eyeroll. "HANG OUT AT STEVE'S TONIGHT!!" you relay. Even though the only person you'd be informing is Eddie and maybe Chrissy if she reads the group chat. Only popping in to say hi every few weeks. 'What could possibly be keeping her so busy?' The question always circles your mind before being brushed off.

Steve's phone pings, looking down at it in hopes that it doesn't say what he thinks it says. Nope, it says exactly what he didn't want it to say. He glares at you, gently bumping shoulders with you when he walks over, inching his way down to your ear. "I hope you know that you're driving them." He taps your shoulder for fake comfort, not understanding the big problem.

—

The feeling of a headache coming on from the noisy car says it all. You should've taken the warning when Steve dished it, too bad you didn't know. Nancy and Eddie talk loudly in the backseat, trying to hear each other over Madonna's 'Material Girl' that Robin put into your car's DVD player.

'A couple more blocks. Just a couple more blocks and I can just chill at Steve's house and watch movies or whatever he has planned this time. Maybe we'll watch Fast Times again, it never gets old. Or something new like Pretty in Pink, yea that came out recently.' The thought relaxes you before Robin brings back all the stress, placing a lukewarm beer on your skater denim thighs. Your favorite low-rise jeans. They were a dark wash color, a perfect fit and were tattered with embroidered stars with a little distress.

"Care for a beer?" She asks, a tad too loud for your close proximity, "Oh my god Robin, for the last time, NO. And you reek of beer, get back." She rolls her eyes at your order, "Ugh rude! Don't be such a bummer, just take the beer. See? Here, I'll help you since your hands are full." She drunkenly puts the unopened beer can to your lips, tipping it up and down. "Huh, nothing's coming out, strange-", you grab both of her wrists with one hand and turn down the volume, "Robin! For heaven's sake please put it down, you're blocking my vision. Gosh, who the hell let her sit in the front! Guys mind giving me a hand? Geez!" You continuously swat Robin's hands away while trying to keep a steady steering hand. "Princess, you let her sit in the front. Remember? So, you did that to yourself."

"Okay well, I wasn't expecting much help from you anyway. And stop calling me princess, dingus."

"Stop calling me dingus, princess." He retorts with a chuckle in his voice. That motherfucker, he probably gets off on stressing and teasing you.

Nancy grabs onto the back of your seat, pulling herself towards you, "Nuh uh, no, not today. Both of you shut up. You're acting like children. Why do you hate each other so much anyway?" You both shut up, waiting for the other to give a response.

You didn't answer because you didn't actually hate Eddie. You only acted like this because he hated you first. Well, you interpreted it as hate. He would just straight up ignore you. You used to have a crush on him, giggling like a little schoolgirl when he'd pass you in the halls. You thought that maybe he was just dense, but then your best friend Chrissy exposed your little crush to him. Yet, he still did nothing about it.

None of that mattered your junior year though. You decided to put yourself out there like Chrissy did. You were social, prettier, and had the school's hotshot, Jason Carver on your arm. He wasn't your type, but everyone kissed the ground you walked on so why complain? Why complain about the times he would chew with his mouth open? Why complain about the times he'd brag about how your tits bounced when he fucked you? Totally leaving out the part where he only lasted 30 seconds of the "pounding" he gave you. You'd always rant about it to Chrissy, both of you rolling your eyes and snickering when he'd talk about it.

Through Chrissy, you met Steve, Nancy, and Robin, all your best friends to this day. Y'all would go out for milkshakes, watch movies, go to the mall and have a blast. Things were settling down nicely for your senior year.

But then, Eddie wormed his way back into your life through your shared friends and classes. Suddenly, ignoring and hating him was starting to get exhausting. How could you hate someone with good music taste? You'd act disgusted when his trashy drug den of a van pulled into the school's student parking lot or Steve's driveway. Then you'd notice Metallica's 'battery' pouring out the speakers of his car and can't help but bob your head.

Then there was his sweet and smile. His smile was angelic. All the leather studded jackets and band patches in the word couldn't dim the brightness that is his smile. It was a little crooked, but his lips were perfect.

And his hair– God, his hair. How much you longed to curl your fingers in his soft frizzy locs. Run your fingers through and grip it at the scalp while he devours you like a starved man– No. You are past that phase and over him. But as you'd like to think, none of that mattered anymore. You broke up with Jason, still had your friends, and still didn't like Eddie. If only you knew that Eddie never actually hated you either.

–

You swallow hard at the question that sits tensely in the air between you two. He notices your silence on the topic, a smug grin easing its way to his face, "Cat got your tongue?" You can hear the teasing sarcasm in his voice, practically oozing out his mouth. "Oh yeah? Why don't you answer it? You have a mind and mouth of your own." Glares exchange through the rear view mirror before you break away.

"Nancy, please." You plea, not waiting for Eddie's clapback. Nancy sighs, not wanting to hear you both argue like kids anymore. "Okay. Come on Robin, you've had enough time in the front seat." She skillfully maneuvers Robin out the front seat and buckles her into the back with them, all in the blink of an eye. "Thank you." You give her a sickly sweet smile and shoot Eddie a nasty look. A couple more turns and you arrive at Steve's house.

"We're here, kids. Get the hell out of my car." You joke. "Let me remind you to never have kids." Eddie chuckles. You try your hardest to seem indifferent from that and the banter you had with him in the car, but your demeanor still slips from under your hands. "Right, says the druggie and seller. Plus, I don't think your house is in living condition for kids or anyone ever." You slam your car door, locking it and marching up to Steve's door with a tired look plastered on your face.

"Hah, she called you a druggie. Me personally, Eddie. I wouldn't take that." Robin laughs, leaning on Nancy's shoulder as she pulls her out the backseat. Eddie punches her arm, "Yeah whatever. And you know damn well that you'd take that."

"Yeah, I would." She bites her lip in thought.

You bang on Steve's door again, pulling out your phone to call him since he still hasn't answered the door. You guys have been standing out on the porch for what, 5 minutes? "Knock again, maybe you didn't do it hard enough." Nancy suggests. You knock again, putting your ear to the door. "Oh wow, look at Sherlock over here." He taunts and you flip him off. "Shut up. There's music blasting through the door. No wonder he can't hear us." "Okay well, can you make him hear us, because Robin's really heavy." Nancy readjusts Robin on her shoulder while you dial Steve's number on your Cityman Nokia. "Well, aren't you updated with the times?" Eddie glares at your phone. It had just dropped at the beginning of the year. Within seconds of it ringing the door flies open with a casually dressed Steve leaning against the doorway and a turkey sandwich in his hand.

He takes a bite, "So how was the drive?" A genuine question that you can't help but lean into his chest, head first. "Haha, very funny. You knew damn well what you were doing when you said I was driving." You put more of your weight onto him and he pats the top of your head for comfort. "Oh haha. Lemme guess, Robin road in the front?" You nod, "Damn, drunk?" You nod again as he looks up from the top of your head to Robin. "Damn, want a sandwich?" You nod once more. "Can we please hurry this interaction up or give me a hand." Nancy gestures to Robin. Steve finishes his sandwich and shuffles you inside.

——

"Mhm! Oh my god, Steveeeee." You moan, dancing in your seat. "This is so good!" Eddie rolls his eyes at your chipperness. The entirety of bacon, lettuce, tomato, avocado, and turkey all toasted on one sandwich. Steve laughs, enjoying your enjoyment. "Glad you like it. I usually have mine with chips, but I ate the last bag yesterday."

"That's fine. Got any pop?" You bounce happily in your chair before your mood is abruptly ruined by Eddie interjecting from the other side of the island. "I'm sorry, what? Pop? You mean soda? Hell, I'd even take soda pop or fizzy pop, but just pop?" You stop dancing to give emphasis to you not liking his tone or the fact that he was talking to you in general. "Yes, just pop. Steve knows what I'm talking about anyway. Isn't that right?" You put a hand out waiting for said drink to be put in your hand. The refrigerator opens and closes and the cold drink is placed into your palm then you shove it in his face. It was Coca-cola. Eddie sighs, fingers rubbing the space between his eyes, not bothering to continue the argument. "Dingus." You say under your breath, cracking open the can.

"So, what do you guys want to do?" Steve pauses, rounding the counter and plopping down on the floor across from Nancy and Robin. "Because I don't have a movie planned."

A sharp gasp comes from Robin. "No Fast Times?"

"No? That movie is worn out anyway. Maybe another day though." He says, getting up to look at his movie catalog before Nancy excitedly jumps up. "YES! THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING. IT'S SO WORN OUT." She says, earning a silent laugh from you. You catch Eddie glaring at you once more. "Why can't you ever take your eyes off of me? I always catch you staring." You say, finishing your sandwich. "Because, I'm just so in love. Your beauty is captivating, my love." He says, almost making it sound genuine, but the hint of sarcasm gives it away. "Oh, watch out. You almost made me fall for it." You finish your sandwich and join the others in the living room.

"How about marry, kiss, kill?" You suggest, taking a memory foam pillow from the sofa and sitting down at the coffee table. Robin suddenly takes interest in the convo ever since getting shut down for the movie. "Ooooh, good one. How about we add fuck, too. Just to spice it up."

Eddie joins the rest of you in the living room, plopping down on the sofa between Nancy and Robin as she starts the game. "Hmm. Nancy, you first. Jason, Fred, Chance, and Steve." Her face scrunches up with every name drop, the look of disgust written all over it. "Fred?! You just had to put that one in there." She pauses, shooting Robin a devastated look as you snicker. Oh the betrayal. Robin rolls her eyes, finally starting to come back to herself after all the cups of cold water Nancy shoved down her throat. "Oh come on, spit it out."

"Alright, fine. This is speaking as if me and Jonathan aren't together, okay? Marry Steve. Kill Jason. Kiss Fred. Fuck Chance." The group's eyes go wide with surprise. "Have you always thought about killing my ex?" You tease, looking offended, but you really weren't. Hell, you'd help with the murder. "Yes! Oh my god he's such a dickhead. I talked to him for the newspaper and he was sunshine and smiles during it, then turned around and tried to tell me how to do my job after. Saying stuff like," She pauses, clearing her voice to mimic his dopey voice. "Oh, don't forget to add the part where I'm captain of the basketball team and how many shots I scored in the last game." Mind you, the question I asked him was, "How do you feel about the bullying incidents and what would you do to prevent it?" Since he's supposed to be one of the school leaders. Ugh, he just gets on my nerves. I'm so glad you dumped his ass because I cannot stand by and let one of my friends date a literal piece of shit on the floor." Her manic rant stops as she places her hands back on her lap, not realizing she was using them to talk in the first place.

"So…Um, fuck chance huh?" Steve says, picking the conversation back up. "Yeah. I've talked to him a couple of times for the newspaper club and he's really nice. Plus he's got nice hair and facial structure." She waits for responses, but everyone just looks around in agreement. "Okay, Y/n." From the way she says your name, you know she's about to fuck you up with this one. "Gareth, Eddie, Andy, and Patrick." "Ugh. Two people each from the 'freak' and 'dickhead squad.'" You ignore the glare from Eddie and put your elbow on the coffee table in front of you, leaning into your hand in thought. "Okay, I think I got it. Marry Gareth. Kiss Andy. Fuck Patrick. Kill Eddie." You close your eyes and list all of them on one hand, some laughs, some eye rolls, specifically one from Eddie. "You'd fuck Patrick but Kill me?" "Yeah, I was shocked. Eddie is very fuckable." Steve says while Robin agrees, getting a sideways look from Nancy. "Not fuckable by me of course. I just meant that as a compliment if I was straight. You know?" She clarifies. "He's got a cute face, nice hair, and he's the perfect height. I wouldn't mind being married to that cutie pie. I feel bad though because he's probably so innocent, he looks it too. I'd ruin him with our relationship." You laugh. "Oh well. It's not like I wouldn't love doing that anyway." "Yeah right. As if my princess could ruin anyone." Eddie stares you down from the couch, thighs clenching from his whole demeanor and 'my princess'. "Don't call me that and I'm not yours." You say in a hushed tone. "It's fun to watch you deny that nickname. I know you love it, princess." He inches closer to you.

"I don't." You inch.

"Do." He inches.

"I hate it as much as I hate you." You inch.

"I also find that hard to believe." He stops inching closer, anymore and you'd be kissing. You totally didn't want that. Robin would've joked around and said 'Kiss already!', but she didn't want the death glare and possible death that would come with it. She could see it now, both of you hovering over her as Eddie chokes her out and you high five him. Her face going blue and vision fading to black before going to the light or who knows maybe she was going to hell. She prayed she wouldn't. But this isn't about her, and that never happened, only in her drunken coming sober thoughts. Where it shall stay.

You both hover over the coffee table as the rest watch. He leaves you speechless, no clapback, not even a huff. Only a broken glare, but your silence says all he needs to know. You slam your hands on the table and walk away, visually startling everyone, but Eddie. He doesn't even flinch. "Don't you walk away from me!" Eddie follows after, his long legs mindlessly stepping over Robin's feet with ease as you two bicker. "Don't tell me what to do! You're not my dad." You storm the hallway, stepping into the closest room, being a guest bedroom. You try to shut the door in his face, but he's right behind you, hot on your heels. He gets a foot in the door as you shut it, luckily for him, his platforms are thick so it didn't do much damage. He flings the door open forcefully, sending you back into a dresser. He slams the door loudly.

"Should we do something?" Steve looks down the hallway from where he is. "Can you see anything?" Robin askes, but he shakes his head. "The door is closed." Nancy rubs her temples, "I feel like we should do something, but I don't wanna be the one to get hurt. Like what if they turn on me because I get in between their 'lovers quarrel'? I don't wanna find out." They both nod their head in agreement. "Yeah, I say we step in if we hear stuff being thrown or like actual violence. Right now we should be on standby." Steve announces as if it was a real plan. In reality, they just didn't want to interfere.

Eddie cages you between the dresser and himself, so close you could feel his uneven breath on your face. Your bodies glued against each other, his leg separating both of yours, and brushing against your cunt. His hands on the outside of yours, chests almost touching if not the height difference. Both of you stand idly in this position, calming your breathing, taking a moment to assess the situation you've gotten yourselves into. You try to move from under him to clear your head, accidentally rubbing your cunt with the thigh that separates your legs. A moan almost slips, but you bite your lip, hoping he doesn't notice. He does. "Hm? Got something to say princess?" He hunches over you, easing down to your level. "Fuck you!" "You'd like that wouldn't you?" His leg shifts again, feeding your entrance and clit that delicious friction it hasn't had in a while. You let out a muffled curse, "You want my attention so bad." Eddie's face contorts into fake confusion, trying to brush it off. "What?" "You heard me. Always making little quips even when I'm not talking to you. When I am talking to you, you always tease me. It seems like you love talking to me. You can't get enough of it. If you hated me as much as you say, you wouldn't call me princess. It seems like I'm not the only one that enjoys that nickname." You smirk, seeing his composure crack before quickly recovering. "So, you do like that nickname?" Your face turns hot from embarrassment. Oops, you didn't realize you had let that slip out. You got ahead of yourself and your mouth ran faster than your brain. Now it's at the finish line and you're sitting there looking dumb at the start. "I, I don't." You don't even know why you're still lying at this point. You've been found out.

"We both know that's a lie." His lips find your neck as he lifts you onto the brown hardwood dresser you've been pressed against. He settles his hips between your legs. "Fuuuuuck. Fuck you." You begin to trip on your words, every sentence comes out with a stutter in it. "Just say the word and this can all end." Your train of thought evaporates when he finds that sweet spot on your neck, stamping hickeys that will definitely show with your clothing choices. He notices your silence and starts to pull away, afraid that he overstepped. "Don't! Don't stop, please." Your begging goes straight to his groin and your arms wrap around his neck, ensuring that he won't go anywhere. "Oh? You sound so sweet for me, princess." You give in, not complaining about the nickname and focusing on the growing heat between your legs. It was just a stupid nickname that you might or might not think about in the shower while you imagine his head between your thighs.

He takes his hand from your hips and slides it under your shirt, groaning when he's found with a bra. "What, can you not get it off by yourself?" You reach a hand behind to help him before he slaps it away. "No, I got it." He skillfully unhooks with one hand, your eyebrows lifting in surprise as he laughs. "I'm not a virgin and a loser. I pick and choose my struggles, okay?" He pulls your shirt above your head to be met with your breast. They sit perfectly on your chest, perfect size, perfect for your body, perfectly soft. He groans lowly while teasing your nipples, your tits fit perfectly into his cold ring-clad fingers. He plays with them like a kid with their first slinky, completely mesmerized, squeezing and squishing them together. His hot mouth encases one of your taunt nipples as you fight the urge to slip your fingers into his hair. "Go ahead. I know you want to." It's almost as if he read your mind. "I know you love the curls, all the girls do." You roll your eyes. "So, grip it if you need to." He smirks up at you through full black eyelashes, trailing his kisses lower to the waist of your jeans, which you didn't know he unbuttoned. His fingers slide against the skin of your hips, looping around your jeans and tugging them down your legs. Leaving the wet area on your panties exposed to him. "Well, would you look at that? You've soaked right through them." His words fluster you, but before you can reply, he's grabbing you by the back of your knees and pulling you closer to the edge, your ass only half way on the dresser now. He drops to his knees, your legs thrown over his shoulders, clutching one by the back of your knee again. He levels with your soaking cunt, giving it an experimental lick, not for you, but for himself. He slides your panties off, letting out a groan from the sight. Your beautiful pussy, glistening because of him. He runs a thick finger up your puffy folds to your clit, rubbing gentle circles as he watches your chest heave from pleasure.

Eddie continues to mindlessly tease your sensitive clit. Pulling muffled and bitten back moans from you. You hoist yourself up, trying your best to roll your hips farther onto his face, but he holds you down. "Eager now, are we?." He nips around the area you need him the most. Kissing and licking your thighs. "You must want to get your hair pulled, whore." He bites at your thigh harder than before. "Says the one getting her pussy eaten by her "sworn enemy". Isn't that ironic?" "Oh shut up. You haven't even-" Your tongue gets caught in your throat blocking the moan that dares to leave your lips.

It was supposed to be a petty lick to make you shut up and appreciate what he was giving you, but he couldn't believe how sweet you were. The lust clouding his brain, his dick hard and leaking precum, pressing impossibly hard against his jeans, all factors working together to drive him more crazy. He starts to lap at your pussy, slurping and suckling the juices as you try to pull away from the sudden pleasure, but the grip on your thighs tighten possessively. You glance down at him to see his eyes, pupils blown wide and clouded with lust. He's eating your pussy like a starved man, sloppy and the bottom half of his face soaked with your juices. He's wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking kisses to it when he slips a finger in you. God, your walls are so velvety soft and what he wouldn't give to be in them. His fingers could be in you for hours, past the wrinkling stage.

Loud moans and curses erupt from your throat, hoping your friends in the other room didn't hear. That somehow the loud noises went unheard or they were suddenly deaf. They didn't. They can and did hear everything.

"So… So, I guess they're not fighting anymore." Nancy pauses, picking stubborn threads from the old couch. "Um, yeah… So uh. PIZZA! Yea pizza, y'all wanna go get some pizza? I mean I didn't make either of you a sandwich earlier. You must be hungry." Steve tries to carry the convo while Nancy and Robin nod their heads in agreement. "Yup! Haha, absolutely famished." Robin says, really playing it up. "Yeah! I mean, like when was the last time we ate? Three days ago? Haha!" A heavy silence sits between the three of them, then Steve grabs his keys. "So! Um, let's go get that pizza!" Fake smiles emerge from all of them, trying to act like two of their friends weren't in the next room fucking. "Oh, Shot-"

"No Robin. You're not riding shotgun."

"Aw man."

The loud shutting of the front door can be heard by you and Eddie, but you didn't care and apparently he didn't either. He begins to give your pussy little kitten licks. Fuck, is he teasing again? What is his problem? You're already dripping and desperate for him. He is enjoying this all too much.

You grab him by the hair, eliciting a moan and shove his face in your cunt. "Eat." You demand as Eddie looks up at you through those fucking eyelashes again. His hands resting on your marked up inner thighs. You weren't the only one enjoying the view, though. You thought you looked absolutely crazy right now, chest heaving unevenly, a sheet of sweat coating your body, your shirt sticking to your breast from the sweat and pupils blown out just like Eddie's, but he was loving it. If only he could pause time and save this image forever or had the artistic ability to paint this moment how he sees fit. The image alone could make him cum in his pants. You panting over him, fed up with his teasing and finally putting him in his place. He obeys, using the tip of his nose to rub circles on your clit as his tongue plunges in and out of you. Your head falls back against the mirror behind you.

Both of your hands pull his hair as you roll onto his face, desperate moans pouring out of your mouth. He continues to moan into your pussy, coaxing you closer to your orgasm with vibrations. Your eyes shut when he slides two fingers in you, not wasting any time on delaying your orgasm. His efforts have your legs shaking in his grip as you gush on his face. He watches intensively, eyes flickering between your fucked out but satisfied face and your spasming pussy. Your precious moans turning into whines of his name as he fingers you into overstimulation. He slips his fingers out and slurps up the rest of your essence.

Your eyes open when you feel his lips on yours, tasting a bit of yourself on him. You moan into the kiss, giving his tongue the opportunity to explore your mouth. Your hands move to his chest, pushing him back to slide off the dresser. You push him backwards towards the bed and drop to your knees. Placing one hand on the wet tent in his pants before he grabs it.

"I want to." You assure him before he says anything.

"But you don't have to."

"But I want to."

"I said you don't have to."

"I said I want to."

"Fine! I don't want you to then." You look at him in confusion before he continues.

"I don't consent. I won't let you." You narrow your eyes at him before dropping the topic. "You're a weird one, Eddie Munson." You start to gather your clothes and head to the bathroom. "Oh, can you change out here?" He says, ushering ahead of you and shutting the door. "Oh, okay?"

Eddie shuts the door behind him, his eyes falling on the situation in his pants. He manically searches the bathroom for a rag he can use to clean the cum out of the inside of his pants, luckily it didn't soak through yet. Yet. He undoes his studded belt and lets his pants fall to the floor, finding a rag and scrubbing the best he can with hand soap. He can be heard huffing and puffing from outside the door, "Hey Eddie. Lemme ask you a question." He nearly jumps out his skin. He thought you already got dressed and left. "Um okay? Shoot."

"How come you hate me so much?"

"Oh princess, I never hated you." He tries to multitask, but fails terribly and almost slips on the bottom of his pants. Luckily, he grabbed onto the sink.

"Oh yeah? Well, you always ignored me. Chrissy told you I had a huge crush and you still didn't make a move or try to talk to me."

"Oh yeah. That. To me you were such a sweet girl. I thought you were too good for me and you'd leave me in the dust with nothing but my heart to hold." He stops scrubbing, reminiscing about the said times.

"You were too good to be true. You were too good for me. You were top of our class and you already had colleges knocking at your door. I didn't have dreams that big. I didn't want to dim your light." He trails off, starting back to scrubbing.

"Why didn't you let me make that decision? I should get to choose who I hang out with." He can hear you stepping closer until you finally lean against the door, back first he assumes.

"I just wanted the best for you." He takes a dry towel and soaks up as much of the wetness as possible. Almost dry. He fits his pants back on, opening the door slowly to ensure you had enough time to move.

Then he feels a fist against his chest. "I hate you, you know." He smiles down at you, "From someone that was rubbing their pussy on my face, I don't believe that." You both walk out the door into the hallway to be met with the smell of pizza and your group of friends plus Chrissy. "Oh hey! I ran into these guys at Domino's." She grabs a slice and holds it out to you two. "Pizza?"

#smut #eddie munson #eddie #stranger things #stranger things smut #enemies to lovers #eddie x fem!reader #eddie smut #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #y/n smut #eddie x y/n smut

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papal-babygirl · 6 months

Text

the body is mostly blood

well. i became severely sad after brisbane, so i made everyone's favorite whump ghoul get sad as well. aether's dead, copia might be soon, and little dewdrop isn't coping very well.

also no. i dont want to talk about the fact that this is 10k words. just be grateful it is.

read on ao3, or continue below

Dew should be in the mood for celebrations. Everyone else seems content to be, Aurora excitedly searching up the hottest nightclubs in Brisbane, flicking through hair colors for her glamour while Phantom peers over her shoulder to offer his advice. Cirrus is leaning back into Cumulus' chest, breaths whistling softly through her angelically parted lips as she dozes. She'll join the new kids, and she'll swear she didn't have a nap on the bus. No one will say anything against it, lest she invite them to her room for apologies back at the Abbey. Mountain has taken up residence around Rain's lithe body, nose buried in his hair as Rain's tail wraps around Mountain's wrist. They sway with the movement of the bus, and to some little tune they're sharing with Rain's headphones. Swiss is deep in a low conversation with Copia, probably talking about some vintage whiskey he'd like to share with his Papa and see where the night takes them.

So that just leaves Dew. Back of the bus alone, noise cancelling headphones on, listening to the loudest, angriest music he could find. He'd gone through the effort to put it on his phone after it managed to disappear from the Internet— he might as well listen to the fucking thing. He has his phone open to his texts, cursor blinking at him as he indulges in his worst habit.

A conversation stares up at him, a few months old now, long discontinued. A conversation with Aether.

Aeth 🖤

Haha you know I got you babe

Dewbug 💧

you are the wind beneath my wings 🕊️

It's the last thing he ever sent to Aether, or rather the last thing Aether ever read. There's a wall of messages from over the past months, none of them sent, and certainly none of them received. Telling Aether how much he's tried to hate Phantom, as if it would bring him back. How the little shit managed to worm his way into some small portion of the hole Aether left. The sheer amount that Sunny would have clicked with Aurora, two little fireballs of energy and life. How his day had gone, how tour was going, little things that made Dew remember him. And every now and again, breathless, sobbing messages, barely legible because Dew couldn't get his hands to stop shaking.

He types out a message a few times and deletes it, like this isn't just some masochistic diary. Eventually he just starts typing and sending before he can even think, and then thinks about throwing his phone out the bus window.

Tour finished tonight. I know how much you loved this country. How much you loved this world. I wish you could have seen this crowd, shit. It just gets bigger every time.

I'm sorry I never stopped missing you.

I'm sorry about the hole left in my chest. The new kids don't deserve it. They're so young and full of life.

You would have been so proud of Phantom. He handles that fucking Fantomen better than either of us ever did, sorry to say.

Copia called himself frail, the fucker. Watched that sea of phones go up, like it's a game to them. Maybe it is. Maybe they don't realize.

Well I mean he stuck a fucking ice cube down his pants, I can't blame them for wanting to keep that forever.

Satanas, I hope I keep him forever.

Dew presses his forehead against the window of the bus, rattling his skull in a way that's perversely satisfying as the bus rounds a corner. When they arrive at their hotel, a sleepy little collection of cabins he's heard a couple locals — and Mountain — call a caravan park, he makes his way to his room without even so much as a goodnight to everyone else. He has no idea if anyone else notices, but he hears and promptly ignores Copia's soft voice calling after him. He just can't tonight, just can't face pity and look into those sad eyes and pretend like he isn't scared out of his mind.

He's similarly distant at the airport, hood drawn up and sunglasses shielding his eyes. Everyone else has a pounding headache from the celebrations, Dew just can't handle the idea of being witnessed. He sits apart from the group when they get to their gate, ready for that long haul back to Stockholm and wishing he could let some of his glamour slip. He feels itchy and cooped up, and maybe if he could soothe the spade of his tail like a kit does, he'd feel a little better.

But as kind as Copia is about their forms, that's a step too far. It's not like Dew is going to do anything to face the wrath of the Ministry, certainly not now, so he just contents himself with knowing he's got a few good months of letting his wings free coming up soon. He's sat beside Copia, to his infinite dismay and his eternal delight. Their hands stay tangled under the blanket the whole flight, as few words are exchanged between them. Neither feel like talking much, and Copia spends about half the trip snoring away anyways.

The Abbey welcomes them like a parent awaiting the empty nest to be filled again for the holidays, warm and insistent but also a little bittersweet. Everyone knows it is not meant to last. As Copia gives his first sermon back to a rapt group of Siblings, worn lines gracing the curves of his face, Dew has to leave Black Mass halfway through for the first time in his infernal life. There's something in the way the light hits Copia's face that makes him seem as frail as he toyed with being on stage, tired and beaten down. Hopefully his Unholy Father can find some way to forgive him the transgression. He presses a kiss to the icon of Asmodeus on his rosary and makes a silent promise to the Saint of Hell that he won't whine next time he's asked to deal with the hundreds of candles in the chapel.

As he walks, his legs carry him on well worn paths, ones he remembers walking with dewier skin and a younger heart. The ever so slightly disastrous state of the garden calls to him, whatever little mote of water that remains between his ribs aches to help Mountain fix it the way he used to, even though the earth ghoul is still kneeling piously in the pews. The autumnal shade of the oaks lining the gothic courtyard remind him of years past, chasing after the love and affection of other Papas, and losing those just as easily as his beauty earned them. Dew ends up back in the dormitories, looking up with a start when he realizes he's at the place that hasn't been his room in years. It's the one he shared with… Satanas, he can't remember their name anymore. Back when he was still craving Secondo's attention, the little siren that he was.

Dew shakes off the memories and heads back to his own room, but not before passing Copia's door. It's obviously unoccupied, but there's a little pull from deep in Dew's gut that begs him to change that. He makes to continue towards his chambers, but he gets about three steps before doubling back and trying the doorknob tremulously. It gives— Copia had a terrible habit of leaving doors unlocked behind him.

Copia’s room is a monument to his simple tastes, to the luxury of small things. It’s nowhere near as lavishly appointed as Terzo’s room was; there’s no sumptuous silks and fine rare dyes here, no gilt kissing the corners of everything. And it’s certainly not the somber elegance that Secondo surrounded himself in, high pile velvet that swallowed all light and sound until the room felt almost claustrophobic. No, it was about as breezy and light as the old Abbey could manage, windows perpetually open to let in the smell of fresh cut grass, or the breeze off the lake, or the sick-sweet rot of leaves as Dew notices now. The window is a panoply of cool colored diamonds of stained glass, casting a mottled glow onto the floor and on his arms that reminds Dew of hot summer days in the lake, of flirting with Mist as they ducked through the cool waters together and let their bodies twine in ecstasy.

Dew crawls into the butter soft sheets, the delicate cream color feeling like it’s going to be sullied by his presence. He can’t call to mind the country of origin, though it sounded fancy when Copia decided to treat himself after a long tour with one too many scratchy sheets. Dew didn’t pay much attention, his thoughts were occupied otherwise as Copia ordered the sheets with one hand idly petting away between his horns. The little ghoul crawls into the divot formed by Copia’s body and buries his sensitive nose into the place where his head rests nightly. It’s an explosion of love that blasts the blackened char of his heart into a thriving, burning core again. It’s vanilla and jasmine, the first kiss of spring after a winter of using the powers forced on him to keep the Abbey’s residents warm, that very first time a timid Cardinal looked his way and said that he didn’t know if Dew would want the compliment, but that he was looking very nice today. (He hadn't been, he had smoldering sticks in his hair from where he'd dived into a bush to capture one of the Cardinal's rats.)

He delicately tangles his fingers up in the sheets, careful not to pierce or snag them with his claws, and curls up tight. The sensations in the room are all he can focus on; the ambient chatter from Siblings and ghouls alike that sings through the unhallowed halls, the decaying smell of the book glue holding together Copia's beloved and very old copy of the Malleus Maleficarum, the taste of his own bile on his tongue as tears rise unbidden to his lashes. Dew lets a few of the tears fall to the pillow, sullying the fine fabric with his own weakness. He barely notices the acid clang of the chapel bells ringing to signal the end of Black Mass, though when the door clicks open he shoots up guiltily, ears pinned back.

"Papa, I didn't, I-" His voice cracks from disuse, and Dew realizes then how little he's been around his pack since they got back. He slinks off to bed before anyone retires, has shrugged off invitations to movie nights and even brushed off Mountain when he was invited to spend some time in the greenhouse. He'd just needed his space, right?

"No, no, tesoro mio, you know you're always welcome. But I noticed you slip out of Mass, and you’re never absent from Mass.” Copia comes and sits on the bed, depressing it slightly. He puts a hand between them, bridging the gap in a way that leaves Dew the power to make the choice to reach out. Dew watches guiltily as his gloved fingers stroke idly along the grain of the fabric. His whole body screams at him to reach out, to make the connection, but he can’t make his arms move from where they’re wrapped around his wan frame. Trembling fingers soothe along the scars on his ribs where his gills used to be, and Copia moves his hand to Dew’s knee. “What prompted you to leave, Dewdrop?”

“I haven’t.. I haven’t been okay for a while, Papa.” Dew admits, voice low like a confession. Forgive him, Unholy Father, he knows full well what he’s done. “I can’t…” His voice clicks as more tears spill over his cheeks. He brings his knuckles up to brush the tears away, but they're interrupted by the soft kiss of leather as Copia catches the tears on his own fingers.

"Take your time, mio amato." Copia scoots a little further onto the bed, and in a flurry of hot limbs, Dew launches into his arms. He lets out a soft oof as he catches Dew, sinking a hand into the tangle of his hair. Dew paws at Copia's shirt for a lifeline, sobs shuddering his whole body.

"I can't lose you. I can't lose anyone else." Dew whispers hoarsely all in one breath, until he takes in another gasping breath and the tears fall heavier. He didn't think there was so much water left in his body. Copia tuts gently and strokes down each knob of Dew's spine, a soothe he discovered after Dew had his first panic attack under Copia's care. It had happened after that very first show where he was on lead guitar, with a body that felt alien and shouldering more responsibility than he could manage. The show had gone off without a hitch, but Copia had found Dew a sobbing mess on the floor of the dressing room. He'd stayed there longer than the venue really wanted, but it didn't matter. Copia was determined to stay until his ghoul was alright.

"You aren't going to lose me." Copia murmurs back, rubbing the thin space between Dew's shaking wings. The little fire ghoul whimpers piteously, claws sinking into Copia's shirt before he realizes with a gasp what he's done. "No, no, you're alright. It's just a shirt." He soothes, voice low and sonorous.

"Aeth said-" Dew can't finish the sentence, but Copia figures out rather quickly what his ghoul is implying. He knows well of the bond between the two, and how much it had pained Dew to have it severed. When the Ministry came to collect its assets, to recoup the loss of a very taxing new quintessence ghoul to summon, Aether had gone with a grace the barbaric act hardly deserved. But he'd not been given the choice to explain to his mates, or to even say goodbye. It was sudden, jarring, and Copia had been there to support Dew while he delivered the worst news to his pack that anyone could fathom.

"I know. I know it must sound like an empty promise. But who could take me away from you?" Copia says gently, pushing his hand under the hem of Dew's shirt to stroke the furred base of Dew's tail. "I would fight the forces of Heaven and Hell to keep you in my arms."

"Who could take you away? The same people who took Aether, Sunshine, your brothers, Alpha, Omega, Ifrit. Should I go on?" Dew pulls back to look at Copia incredulously, tear tracks burned into his cheeks. He looks over Copia's face, takes in the life worn into his features, the freckles that Dew himself has kissed over after a night of passion. "You said it yourself, Papa, you said that you're frail. Your time is up soon. And you can tell me that some of it is toying with your flock but-" Dew cuts himself off with the memory of their arms wrapped around the others waist on stage, as Dew did his best to not look utterly besotted with his Papa. I love you, little man. Saints, the words ring in his head even now. How it thrilled his chest to be publicly declared worthy of the unholiest love he knows, how bittersweet the finality of it all felt on his tongue. "How am I supposed to know that when I wake up, you'll still be here?"

"I think you'll just have to trust me." Copia sighs, fingers still rubbing the little patch of fur that graces the transition from human to beast, from glamour to ghoul. "I know it is an impossible task."

"No. Trusting you is easy. It's the world I can't rely on." Dew rubs the tears away, a low purr kicking up at the gentle pets to his trembling body. His heart rate is starting to slow, that infernal core cooling off to a glowing coal. The panic takes a backseat to the fact that Copia is here, in his arms. For right now, whatever comes next is immaterial.

"Then let me be your world, and rely on me." Copia breathes, pulling Dew into an achingly tender kiss. Dew can still smell the incense from Mass clinging to his hair, with that undercut of jasmine and salted tangerine from his cologne. That all too familiar scent is safety to Dew, it's love, it's home, it's hope. No matter the bouquet of pheromones that his pack has for him, it's never quite this combination. He would know Copia by this alone, by the brush of uncalloused fingers on his cheek, by the sound of rushing blood through his veins rather than ichor.

The kiss finally lets Dew relax, wings drooping heavily as all the tension leaches from his body like his namesake evaporating in the heat of a summer morning. He's cried himself into emotional exhaustion, and now he just wants to be touched. He's tired of shutting himself off, tired of being on the outside of the pack, tired of being scared and wounded and crawling off to die alone like a cat. Copia pulls him closer, a low whine building in his throat that makes Dew crave him deeper than he ever thought possible.

"I love you." Dew pants when they both pull back for air, foreheads pressed together as Dew feels leather-clad hands exploring the familiar pathways of his body. His horns press softly against Copia, that eternal reminder of how different they are at their cores. "I've never- you.. I don't think I'll ever love like this again." Copia hums softly and kisses the corner of Dew's mouth, drawing him back in like the tide.

"Maybe not. Maybe you will." Copia leans back slightly, bringing a hand up to his teeth to pull the glove off. Perhaps he doesn't notice how it makes all the hair on Dew's body stand on end, perhaps he notices and doesn't care, because he does it to the other one, clasping the gloves in one hand and gently tossing them to the desk where they land limply. His fingers are impossibly warm and soft as they come back to grace Dew's imperfect form, well manicured nails scraping ever so slightly. "All that matters to me is loving you here and now."

"Then love me. Love me fully." Dew begs, a whine creeping into his plea. But Copia isn't deterred by the vulnerability, isn't scared off by Dew's infernal ache. He pushes into the soft curve of Dew's jaw, leaves painted kisses there as he slowly pulls the shirt off that Dew stole from Mountain some years back. It hangs off him like a tunic, but no one could deny him whatever he wanted, considering he looked so loved in the oversized garment.

Perhaps it isn't wise to seek to heal this hurt with sins of the flesh; Dew recognizes this. And there is more yet to do to banish this pain from his mind, his soul, and perhaps truly it will never be gone. There is always going to be an indelible mark that the ones who are no longer here make on his pitch-heart, carve their name in hellish runes on the very surface of his obsidian bones. And in time, he will learn to live with this. In time he will wear the names of the departed with pride, and love, and welcome new names and new loves to become part of him. For right now, though, he is as shattered porcelain, begging to be put together anew. Changed by the process, but once again whole.

Dew sinks his claws into Copia's shirt again as his Papa's lips travel lower, kissing over his prominent collarbones, and up to the faded scars from his gills. Dew had tried to open them up once, a year or so after his transition. A delusion grabbed hold of his shattered psyche, convinced him that the beautiful creature he used to be lay still underneath the surface, needing to molt to become himself again. It was Aether who found him, fingers stained black with the effort of his pain, shaking and sobbing and woozy from blood loss. It was Aether who used his fledgling powers, tripping on the unsteady legs of a newborn deer to knit flesh back together again. And it was Aether who convinced him that he was beautiful any and every way he was, and that the cruelty of the powers that be was in no way his fault.

The Ministry moved in mysterious ways, sometimes bold and striking declarations from Sister Imperator, and sometimes people unbeknownst to even Copia would show up and demand things of he who should be the highest power. It always unsettled Dew, made him feel as if Copia was little more than a dancing monkey, a figurehead puppet who they could shove in front of the yearning masses, who could take the fall when culture came to bite back. It was Copia, of course, who takes the blame for introducing the devil back into the 'good, Christian world'. Copia, of course, who takes the blame for corrupting youths by daring to imply that they should be loved as they are. Copia, of course, who is at fault for wanting his flock to feel and touch and love and fuck as much as their desires told them to, for what could be more human?

"Should I just take this thing off, eh?" Copia says with a smile, eyes flicking down to the long claw marks in the dog-collared button down. It only strikes Dew then that he probably came back to his room to get changed after Mass, only to find a very sad and vulnerable little ghoul in his bed.

"Oh, I.. I didn't mean to-" Dew shrinks away from all the points of contact with Copia, only to have it chased right back as Copia slides his arms around Dew.

"It's just a shirt. Dime a dozen, dolcezza." Copia squeezes Dew gently, fingers finding scars with featherlight touches. The ones he's given himself, the ones inflicted on him, all fall away to nothing under Copia's careful touch. It's as if he's made anew. "Help me get out of it?" He doesn't need help— it's become tatters— but he wants Dew to unfurl, wants him to feel this. Dew plucks at the buttons gingerly, one by one, until he can push the shirt to the floor.

Dew takes a moment to regard the one he loves, the incrementally graying chest hair, his softness, the beautiful fallibility of his mortal flesh. He'd only started to notice Copia's temples going gray this most recent tour, and it was certainly fuel for the fire that was his anxiety. But in the objective sense, it granted him a handsome gravitas Dew couldn't deny. From the way his flock would cheer when he promised to fuck the crowd, it would seem that he wasn't alone in that opinion. Shaking claws reach to stroke along Copia's sensitive sides, and Dew watches with rapt attention as his perfect stomach twitches with barely contained laughter.

"You know I'm ticklish there, don't you?" Copia asks with a smirk, though both of them know that he is. "And yet the touch persists, how cruel of you." Dew finds himself smiling ever so slightly as he shifts and pushes Copia down to the plush bed, deft fingers attacking soft curves. Peals of laughter ring around the room from the both of them as they fall back into each other, into soft lingering kisses that feel first-time timid. With that same gingerness, Dew reaches below the belt for the first time for an exploratory pet. The response he gets is beautifully favorable, a stuttered gasp from Copia, pupils blown. "And if I said I was ticklish there, would you stay your hand?"

"Saints, I love you when you get romantic like this." Dew says, Copia's fingers coming to rest along Dew's forearm. They regard each other for a long moment, Dew's hair curtaining down in the way that he's always been called beautiful for. He'd thought about shearing his hair after his transition, no longer yearning to feel his hair trail behind him while he swims, no longer feeling like anyone's preziosa sirenella. It was a joint effort from Aether and Copia that had kept it long, Aether meditatively brushing and plaiting the hair while Copia held him close and called him beautiful again, praised the fire in his eyes and the blaze in his bones.

"What you call romantic I simply call honest." One of Copia's hands traces a little trail up the inside of Dew's arm, along his chest to cup his cheek. He pushes up with the other hand, pulling Dew in to kiss him with a little more urgency, a little more breathlessly. He moans wantonly into the kiss, parting his lips to let Copia get even closer, to taste him more insistently. They eventually make their way to a reverse of before, Dew laid back on the pillows looking for all the world like a fallen angel. Sure, the horns and batlike wings don't fit the picture, but the amber eyes looking up through pale lashes seem for all the world like a creature spurned from grace.

His beauty turns to ecstacy when Copia litters his chest with little kisses and love bites, none too hard. Though he'd be hard pressed to bite harder than Swiss, especially considering his rather dull teeth in comparison. But right now Dew can't imagine anything feeling better than this, especially when soft lips brush over his piercings. His back arches into the contact, tail squirming and disturbing the duvet. He lets out a long, low, whined out Papa, which gets him a little hum against his heaving chest. Copia's clever fingers take an exploration down to where Dew's shaft has grown behind his loose joggers.

"Please?" Dew whines, hips jumping and earning him a low, husky laugh from Copia.

"You don't have to beg, tizzone." Copia says gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Dew's pants. His eyebrows raise expectantly, and Dew scrambles to lift his hips enough to get the joggers off. Dew kicks the pants to the ground and paws hungrily at Copia's chest, pulling him into more kisses as the room floods with his cinnamon desire. He's already dripping slick all over the slim juncture of his thighs, squirming underneath the watchful gaze of his Papa. He is flayed open, raw and beating heart ripe for the taking by any predator who dared. And yet, he is not torn in two, and the soft curve of his chest is simply kissed over, leaving smudges of black paint. When Copia leaves his ministrations be, he looks more like a raccoon than normal, all the paint on his lips smudged off completely.

"You look like those, Saints, what does Mountie call them, the bloody trash pandas?" Dew says through a snorting laugh, appending his best true blue impression of Mountain. Copia rolls his eyes fondly and pushes back up onto his haunches, looking down at the ghoul spread out like a feast before him.

"If you're going to be mean I can leave." Copia earns playfully, getting his stern voice out that usually gets reserved for when they've destroyed a hotel room with some sexcapade that makes the bill fall on his shoulders. Notable examples include the scorched bed from when Dew was pinned down and made to cum over and over and over until his little body couldn't take the pressure and literally exploded into flames; the broken bed frame from when Rain begged Mountain for more more more harder please mountie please and the gentle giant had unleashed his powers to rend the particle board to dust as he finished deep in the hot clutch of Rain's body. The most recent incident was the room that looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off when Phantom had lost control of his powers and unleashed a supernova in a cheap hotel, but each of them was brushed under the rug by an understanding but mildly disappointed Copia.

"No! No, I'm sorry, you look nice." Dew reaches out shakily, gripping Copia's shoulders with a fervent whimper. Copia's shoulders slump slightly, and he rubs his thumb along the bird-light joint of Dew's wrist.

"I could never leave you, but I do think I should probably get my shoes off before we continue, eh?" He presses a kiss to the fluttering pulse of Dew's wrist and pulls back a couple steps off the bed to slip his dress shoes off, pulling his belt out of the loops. He hears Dew's throat click with a heavy swallow, and for a moment they share in the hunger for something harder, something that leaves Dew flushed and crying. They're no stranger to that kind of play; there's a very good reason why Copia has a plethora of different leather gloves, well worn by use and, well, too much cleaning. But the moment passes, fleeting as can be, when Copia bends down to unclip the garters from his socks. "Should I leave the pants to you?" He asks with a soft smile, just as Dew's crawling his way down the bed to pluck teasingly at Copia's zipper.

"Maybe. I let you undress me." Dew grins up at Copia wolfishly, quick fingers dancing along pressed slacks until before Copia knows, his fly is undone and Dew is pawing at him.

"Should I just fuck you like this?" He laughs, following the line of Dew's thin fingers to gently grip himself. "Boxers and all?"

"You can do it however you like, Papa, as long as you don't let me go." Dew breathes, flame-hot over the thin fabric separating his flushed mouth from sensitive flesh. Copia awkwardly shuffles everything down to a messy pile on the floor, the only real sign someone lives in the room that Dew's noticed since he crawled into bed. His cock springs up, a tempting little bead of pre welling up at the head. Dew grits his teeth in an effort to resist, but as if pulled by an invisible tether, he leans in to press an almost chaste kiss to the head.

"Now that's very dangerous of you, tizzone." Copia breathes as Dew returns to lounging on the pillows, waiting for Copia to chase him up. Nimble fingers dip down to splay open his slit, shimmering in the sun that still filters in the windows. Copia looses a punched groan and moves with a swiftness few people see from him, clambering across the bed to smother his ghoul in kisses once more.

"Need you in me, you know I'm ready for it." Dew juts his chin up proudly, grabbing Copia's hand and shoving it unceremoniously down to his slit. His wide eyes beg him to pet through the velvety folds, and then up to let the smooth, slick length of his shaft throb against his hand. Copia relents, of course he relents to the bid for touch, probing a couple thick fingers into Dew's entrance. He scissors his fingers gently, watching Dew's expression carefully. The fire ghoul's face screws up, but through the years they've been sleeping together, Copia has learned well the difference between pain and pleasure. Dew is firmly on the side of pleasure, at least until something shifts in his face, lip twitching.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Copia pulls his fingers out, and Dew scrubs at his face, taking a gulping breath and trying to calm his hummingbird heartbeat. He shakes his head, mouth trying to find words.

"It- you… for a second, you felt like…" Dew closes his eyes, trying to find some anchor in the sea of his feelings. "Aeth. I know it's stupid to think about—"

"No, no, Dew, it's not stupid. When do emotions run higher than this, more than when two become one?" Copia brings his clean hand up to cup Dew's cheek, pressing their foreheads together. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No! No. Saints, no, I- I need this. Just need you." Dew throws his arms around the broadness of Copia's back, fingers splaying over the freckled expanse of skin. He clings tight, chest heaving until Copia presses a warm palm to his sternum. They don't say anything, they just breathe in tandem until Copia's even breathing is the rhythm they both follow. Dew nods, and Copia knows what he's ready for without words. They've really never needed words, able to read each other with the smallest twitch of an eye or the quirk of a lip. So it's no surprise to Copia that when he latches his lips to Dew's hot pulse and sinks his fingers back into the warmth of Dew's slit that the little ghoul howls in pleasure, hips jumping erratically.

Copia suckles a dark bite into the pale gray of his Dewdrop, purple blooming to the surface prettily as he opens Dew up. He doesn't need Copia's fingers scissoring him open, not by a long shot, but he'd be remiss if he didn't get his hands dirty in the pursuit of pleasuring Dew. Copia curls his fingers just so, and Dew shouts in ecstacy, shaft throbbing dully as more slick leaks out over his soft stomach.

"Please, please Papa, I don't want to wait anymore." He lays the piety on thick, which seems a little bold for a ghoul who snuck out of Mass. Copia forgives the indulgence, though, and lines himself up to tease the head of his cock along slick folds. "No, no no no nonono, don't tease, please." Dew sobs out. He seems so shattered already, Copia can't help but sink into him, mouth tucked into the angles of his throat to feel his pleasured noises.

"See, I can be kind." Copia mumbles, mouth a little occupied with absolutely ruining Dew with kisses and bruises. Dew yelps as Copia sinks home, hips kissing for a brief second before he pulls almost all the way out.

"Not that kind, apparently." Dew grumbles, jerking up to try and fuck himself on the unmoving cock. Copia lets him try it for a little bit, a faint amused smile playing on his lips. It doesn't last long until the heat beckons, that velvet inferno, and Copia sinks in again with a low groan. Dew's little wings flex against the sheets, claws barely resisting sinking into Copia to pull him impossibly close. He doesn't need the prodding, though, because he picks up a neat little pace. It's not as hard or fervent as it will grow to be, but for now it's just what both of them need. They move together with the gentle push and pull of the ocean, and it reminds Dew of endless quiet moments on the bus, smothering moans in the plush flesh of his lover as they rock with the movement of the bus.

It threatens to ruin Dew's mood, but he forces his mind to think of the ones he's shared that experience with who are still here. Chief among them is of course the man between his legs now, but he feels a different little thrill thinking about Swiss swallowing Dew's noises by clamping a big hand over his mouth, or Cumulus promising to treat him so well if he can stay quiet all on his own. That brings him back from the brink of absolute collapse, to say nothing of the reality of Copia dragging him into a slow, messy kiss.

Dew slides a hand down in between the both of them to tug at his shaft, but his hand is batted away by Copia. He whimpers at the loss, but Copia picks up the slack immediately. "Just let me take care of you." He murmurs by way of explanation, gently squeezing the slick length of Dew's shaft. His barbs leak all over Copia's fingers, making the glide of skin on skin all but frictionless. It's not the only trait he retained from his previous element, but it was probably the least upsetting. He never needed much foreplay, though he enjoyed it thoroughly, and it definitely made him the pack's favorite choice for a quickie. His hands almost instinctively slide up above his head, ready to be pinned by a large hand. It was one of Mountain's favorite moves, to make him feel impossibly small, but Copia doesn't make the move.

So instead, Dew opts to keep his hands locked tight around the bars of the headboard, thin fingers twining around carved mahogany. Copia groans at the sight when he flicks up his mismatched eyes, focusing back on ruining Dew's chest with love bites. If he thinks too hard about the unfailing obedience that Dew offers him, this endeavor ends far too soon. Then again, compared to the infernal endurance of his ghouls, he's a minute man by comparison, so frankly he's just got to try his best.

"I love you." Dew blurts out randomly, voice thick with pleasure and barely held back tears. Copia's hips stutter for a moment before he looks up to see that the tears are of ecstacy, as far as he can tell. He blinks once, and the fat tears fall from his lashes and race down the hollow of his throat to leave wet spots on the pillow. In response to the love, Copia adjusts himself and pulls Dew's slim legs around his waist, locking them together eternally.

"I love you, Dewdrop, Father Below, do I love you." His hand leaves Dew's shaft for just a millisecond to make sure Dew's legs are locked tight. It returns in due time, bringing with it increased fervor and a lump in his throat that Copia wasn't expecting. He's never been stoic, Saints no, but not nearly as much of a crier as his sweet Dewdrop. There's something in the air today, then that has him choked up. So be it. If his body needs that release, he won't deny himself.

"Don't leave. Please, please don't leave me alone, please stay, Copia please, I can't live without you, I can't lose you." The steady stream of tears turns to wet sobs, and Dew's hands fly from the headboard to cling desperately to Copia and pull him impossibly closer. Their bodies are all but one as their hips meet over and over. Something in the desperate cries makes the fragile dam inside Copia break, and when he screws up his face when Dew flutters, he feels the hot slide of tears down his own cheeks.

"I could never, tizzone. I can't bear to lose another person. I can't hurt you." His voice shakes, and he'd love to pretend that it's because of all the sensations swallowing him, the sweet honey heat of his Dew. But it's a disservice, he thinks, to pretend himself incapable of tears. What then, of the grief he'd experienced, of all the loss of family and love alike? Here, in the sanctuary of his room, he has no obligation to be His Unholiness, Papa Emeritus IV, a stoic figurehead to lead and protect his flock. He can just be, ever so simply, Copia. A man, with vulnerabilities just like everyone else. He swallows heavily, and Dew leans up to kiss his tears away. They're both just sort of crying on each other, wet cheeks pressed together.

They press even closer to each other, chest to chest as Copia's hips speed up. His hand squeezes the forming knot at the base of Dew's shaft, interrupting the tears with a yelp of pleasure.

"Oh, oh fuck, harder, please, can you- harder?" Dew asks, voice trembling. He never asks this politely, and combined with the throb of his shaft, Copia realizes he's not the only minute man here. The pace slows down in service of more brutal thrusts, getting punched little groans from the both of them as the bed creaks with protest. His hand makes choppy little strokes along Dew's shaft, lack of rhythm unbecoming of a practiced musician. Dew doesn't seem to mind, head tossing back and forth and making his silken hair into a mussed tangle despite the inelegance of Copia's thrusts. Right about when Copia expects, his thighs and hips start to burn in protest. It's for the best that he thinks about bringing things to a crescendo.

It's definitely not a premature end; Dew's slit is pulsing heavily around Copia which always signals that he's about to burst. The little hiccups each time he fucks a little deeper into Dew's hot body are a sure sign that it's time to try his dirtiest trick. Well, 'dirty' implies that he's on equal sexual footing with the very emissaries of Hell's lust, so it's more that he's a very clever lover. He swipes both his hands under Dew's ass, trusting his knees for all of two seconds to bear the weight of him while he adjusts to fuck up into the spot that makes Dew howl. And howl he does, one hand clawing deeply at Copia's shoulder without breaking skin. The other rends the pillow under his head to downy shreds, fine duck feathers exploding into the room and clinging to Dew's sweaty shoulders.

"Aaah, yes, yes, Copia please, please I'm right there, touch me touch me please please, Unholy Father, I need to cum!" Dew sobs wetly, bringing a feathered hand up to scrub the tears away so he can beg with the full power of his alluring amber eyes. He doesn't need to beg; he never needed to ask. But it seems ingrained in him to ask permission, so Copia gives him a little grunt of affirmation. That's apparently the key to get the levee to burst, because Dew spills all over his stomach and chest with a wail. Iridescent cum coats his piercings, glittering in the dappled light of the window. The fluttering of Dew's silken walls around him means Copia is barely moments behind, spilling into Dew and screwing up his face.

The ecstacy brings the tears back in full force, a sick combination of pain and pleasure. His chest constricts as if squeezed from within, and he finally looses a proper sob. Copia wipes at his eye, coming back with a smeared blob of paint staining his fingers, and it's quite belatedly he realizes that he probably looks absolutely haggard. He can't be fucked to care, honestly, especially as he pulls out and lowers Dew back down to the bed, watching as his chest heaves. Dew's cum barely starts to dry, hardly gets the chance before Copia leans down to clean him up with that silvered tongue. He laps broadly, swiping up slick and cum in equal measure as Dew sobs quietly into the back of his hand. Copia keeps his kisses featherlight, his tongue as restrained as he dares. If he catches a couple of his own tears in his ministrations, so be it.

"Saints, I could worship you forever. You are so dear, so unholy to me." Copia breathes against Dew's damp skin, ears tuned to the stuttered hiccup at the reversal. Dew had caught the attention of many a man (and woman) of the cloth, and yet none of them had found him worthy of worship. Only Copia truly viewed him as not only equal, but superior. Dew did his fair share of devotion in the bedroom, but he was used to being on his knees in more ways than one.

"Don't deserve it." Dew whimpers, though his hands tell a different story when they sink into Copia's hair. "I don't- I'm not beautiful anymore, not like I used to be. Too much blood." His hands twitch on Copia's scalp, and for a brief moment all Copia can think of is the moment Dew stumbled on him in a puddle of ichor, of Aether's— No. No. Not now. Not when he's dragging down lower, sensitive cock brushing against silky sheets when he settles in between Dew's legs. Copia's spend leaks wetly from Dew, little pulses of his orgasmic afterglow pushing a new wave of slick and cum out of him. He watches for a couple seconds, pleasure-dazed until he remembers his purpose, hands coming up to stroke gently at the thin plane of Dew's thighs. Gentle fingertips stroke at the fine hair on his legs, feeling the muscles twitch uncertainly as Dew awaits whatever comes next.

What comes next is a supernova of overstimulation, Copia's tongue licking broadly between dusky folds. He's so pretty and dark down here, like a rare flower with midnight petals.

"Fuck, hurts. Hurts good." Dew bleats, taking a fistful of Copia's hair in his hand as he's cleaned out with gentle licks. "Please don't stop. Might go again." Copia groans into slick flesh, the idea that he could bring Dew to even the littlest orgasm down here stirring heat right back up in his gut. So he sets himself to the task, bringing a single firm finger up to prod tenderly. It's under the guise of making sure Dew is cleaned up properly, but it's really to pet at his soft walls and feel him flutter with each lick. Before he knows it, Dew is clamping his thighs tight and squealing, body forcing every last drop out of him and onto Copia's tongue. Dew doesn't have to push him away when he's had too much, because Copia knows him intimately, knows just when to draw his finger out in the aftershocks.

Dew's face is blotchy, all different shades of plum and tyrian purple, and the patchwork only continues down his neck and chest. His face is still wet with tears, though they've dried down to a velvet sheen on his soft cheek. Copia kisses the inside of his knee, murmuring softly that he'll be right back, he's just going to grab something to clean them both off. Dew assumes he's going for the ensuite, and he paws at Copia with a yelp, but he only moves to the other bedside table to flip open a vintage cigar box. Inside is not cigars, but a pastel little packet of baby wipes, all hidden away to keep the impeccable aesthetic of his room in order. Dew watches curiously before he lets out a watery laugh that turns a little teary, making more feathers from the destroyed pillow stick to him.

"Oh, shit, the- Papa, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—" Copia waves a hand and beckons Dew off the ruined pillow. He goes uncertainly, relaxing into the touch as Copia wipes him down, leaving him smelling faintly of honey and almond.

"It's a pillow, I can get another. I'll forgive you if you tell me what's so funny." His mouth settles into a lazy smile as he discards the wipe to grab another and slip it down between Dew's legs. The little ghoul hisses at the cold between his warm legs, but he does as his Papa asks.

"Just the," he waves his hand at the cigar box, "I don't know. Such a silly little thing hidden away in a mature shell. It's very you. And I love that. Practical and not too serious and-" Dew shudders as his sensitive shaft retreats, brushing against the cool wipe. "Hells, that's cold."

"I would be loathe to invest in a wipe warmer." Copia explains mildly, with the not so subtle implication Dew was being a bit of a baby about the cold. "Rain loves it, says he gets too hot and sticky." Dew opens his mouth to protest, but clacks it shut with a snap of his jaws, brow furrowing.

"Well. I'm not much like him anymore, am I?" He says quietly, eyes sparking like when he loses control of his element. Copia watches him carefully, fingers stopped in their work to ensure he doesn't obliterate the bed. The fire dies down completely, quenched by the tears that bubble up and fall with a scary speed. "Not much of anything, really." He hiccups, and it's the comedown Copia was really expecting. He's never escaped a teary romp in the sheets without lengthy aftercare, and likely some of the world's worst pillow talk by normal standards.

"No, no. You're everything. I knew you were beautiful from the moment I saw you." Copia soothes, tossing the soiled wipes into the wastebin that's there for just that purpose. He hesitates for a moment, wondering if it's worth the effort to clean up his paint. But he eventually perishes the thought, considering that Dew is grasping up at him with pitiful paws. So he looks like a rat left out in the rain, so what? He sits back down on the bed, shunting Dew into his lap and gently picking every stray feather off of his damp skin. Every fourth feather or so, he brushes Dew's cheeks of the tears that incessantly fall, granting him reprieve best he can. "It's alright. I knew this was coming for a long time, dolcezza."

"What- what do you mean?" Dew looks up blearily from behind his tears, eyes now dulled to the color of stale coals. Copia tuts gently, flexing slightly so that his foot doesn't go fully numb with the pressure of the little head on his thigh.

"You were withdrawn since Brisbane. Barely spoke for weeks, all you did was hold my hand on the plane." His voice is gentle, all the patience of a teacher, a leader, a pastor. All the things he's been to Dew and more, his anchor in the storm. "I've seen this mood on you before, Dewdrop. I know how you get when the.." He waves his hand, looking for the words, "melancholy takes a hold of you." He's probably looking for depression, but he's got a poet's soul. Sue him. "Mountain came to me a little while ago, asked if you had been more forthcoming with me about how you were doing. Your pack is worried about you, myself included."

"I wish he wouldn't." Dew grumbles, wiping at his face. He's mostly free of feathers, so Copia's moved to gently detangling his hair and picking out the down he finds stuck there. "I just.. I wish they'd leave me alone."

"You know they won't. When I saw you leave Mass I.. to be honest I almost stopped the whole affair to chase you." He'd been in the middle of Desecration, holding His Infernal Body aloft when he saw Dew excuse himself and slip out along the shadowed corridors, votive candles burning a little brighter as he passed. It'd formed a lump in his throat that hadn't gone away till he'd been able to shed his robes, leaving them in a pile for the poor sacristy ghouls to deal with. "I was glad to find you here, instead of.." He trails off with a shaky breath, the implication hanging as a sword of Damocles above them.

Dew closes his eyes tight, forcing tears down his mottled cheeks. He balls his fists, and it's like he's trying to squeeze all the anxiety and pain and doubt out of his little body. He relaxes with a slump, laying heavier on Copia's lap. Alabaster horns prick at Copia's thigh, and he sinks his fingers into Dew's very scalp to massage around the base of his horns. Sometimes that touch is arousing, but right now it's just soothing, though it does little to stop the tears.

"What's keeping you away from us, little flame?" Copia murmurs, trailing his fingers down to press his middle fingers into the little spot at the hinge of Dew's jaw on either side. So much tension is carried here, not to mention the spot where his pheromones burn the strongest, and when Copia massages the whole room floods with warm tobacco and teak.

"I.." Dew breathes in and out once, chest trembling, "I'm terrified that when you go, I won't feel it. That I won't know." The confession seems to shatter something in him, and he crumples up his face like the words struck him. "And I thought maybe if I could pull away it wouldn't hurt so bad, wouldn't kill me when everyone dies again and again and again. But maybe not knowing is worse." One of Copia's hands presses on Dew's sternum, helping to regulate his breathing. The other travels back up to scratch softly at his scalp. "I still message Aether." Dew continues, "I have for months. I don't know what I'm doing without him, it's like.. I don't know. I've lost packmates before, so many of them, but I never thought I'd lose him."

"I know. Saints, do I know." Copia strokes his thumb along Dew's feverish skin, scooping a hand underneath his head to deposit him gently on the bed. Dew whimpers, hands reaching up for Copia piteously. "I'm not going far, dolce." He gently makes his way over to the desk, sliding open a drawer and pulling a bundle of tied together letters out of the very back. They're all different sizes, some as thin as a single sheet, some clearly stuffed full with multiple pages, and as Copia brings the stack back, Dew spots the name on every single one of them in elegant script. Aether. "It's a little more old fashioned, but.. I write to him. Not on a schedule, just.. when I find myself thinking of him. And I tuck them away, and I," He sighs, a shaky little noise that has Dew finally sitting up and cocking his head, eyes searching Copia's face. "When I can go long enough without remembering that.. that damnable pool of ichor, I'll burn them for him. In the summoning room, and I'll hope that he gets to read them."

Dew takes the stack of letters gently, noting a faint herbal scent when his hands warm the papers. They're all on fine paper, thick and rich and sealed with wax bearing the symbol of the church, carefully embellished in gold by a gentle hand. He brings one of the letters to his nose, but he can't for the life of him identify the herb. Mountain probably could, but he doesn't really spend enough time in the garden. Anymore.

"Rosemary. For remembrance, and because he always used to love that lamb roast Mountain would cook up for Ostara, which Mount always claimed was traditional hell cuisine and I'm just now doubting the veracity of that," Copia laughs fondly, a small, sad little noise. "There's a sprig in every letter for him. I learned that magic a very very long time ago, at that boy's school, Saint Amduscias'." Copia takes the letters back and tucks them into the desk again, fingers lingering briefly on the lacquered wood.

"How often do you think of it?" Dew asks, eyes searching the expanse of Copia's back, noting each freckle for the hundredth time. He knows asking the question is like poking at a sore tooth for the sick satisfaction of it, but there is a perverse pleasure that leaves the ache a little duller each time he talks about it.

"Those letters? They're all from this last leg of tour. And I have more I haven't unpacked." Copia turns, always so beautifully unashamed in his nakedness. It was a shame that humans got so touchy about their bodies, considering how wonderful and unique they all are. Dew's always been grateful that Copia never seemed to be in a rush to cover up after sex if he didn't strictly have to. "How can I not think of it? I can't.. I don't know that I'll ever forget fully. I knew Ministry staff were to be there that day, but I never thought.. well, I knew the rumors. I'd heard things, here and there but they were my first replacements." The words drips off his tongue as if it were acid, vile and burning.

"I can't stop thinking about feeling it before I saw it." Dew comes over and swings his legs off the bed, leaning back and looking up at the one who's charmed his heart over and over again, and will probably do so till both of them are in the ground. "I'd seen some important looking people around but, I mean. You know how I am with authority, I just ignored it."

Copia pushes off the desk and settles his body in between Dew's slim knees, until Dew is craning his neck to make eye contact. "What did it feel like? You never told me." Dew's heart skips a beat so loudly it feels like it reverberates around the room.

"Like a star collapsing in on itself. Like a heart attack, from what I've been told it feels like." He swallows thickly around the lump of tears in his throat. He feels like a wrung out rag, like blood squeezed from the stone. There's probably more tears in his body, but Hell Below, he just wishes they'd stay there. "Like being stabbed and then the knife slides out slowly, like the person doing the stabbing enjoys it. Like losing a limb." Dew gets quiet, and he rests a hand over his heart, scars from former fins shimmering down his arm. Copia bends down and presses his forehead against Dew's, a Ghoulish kiss Dew first taught him by accident. The fire ghoul had just done it, and Copia played along, until Dew realized the poor Cardinal had no idea what he'd been doing.

"I'll do anything I can to make sure you never feel that again." He murmurs, and Dew sighs, a dismissive tone to the noise.

"You know you can't promise that." Dew says shakily, and Copia bumps his nose against Dew's a soft little movement that makes Dew's chest constrict.

"No, not entirely. But I mean it. I'd do what I could." They fall into a silence then, breathing in each other's air, enjoying each other's space. The arrhythmic rasp of a starling sings through the window, a discordant soundtrack with the backing beat of their hearts as accompaniment. Dew pulls back eventually, nosing at Copia's jaw to get his attention.

"Do you want to go see him?" Aether has a sort of grave, a shrine really. They weren't allowed to keep his body; the Ministry had taken it as some sort of grotesque currency for Phantom's summoning, but they had other things. The mask Terzo had given him, and the first one Copia gave. A broken little shard of horn from early on, when he literally butted heads with Omega and snapped it off. His beloved bracelet, which Ivy had gifted him, shaped by their own hand from scrap guitar strings. The first Fantomen he'd gotten, all those years ago. Phantom was given a new one, apparently not too dear a price from the Ministry for their newest summon. Gifts from fans, piles and piles of them, carefully kept safe in a plexiglass case. He'd kept almost everything he'd been given; if he could fit it into a nook or cranny of a gear box or a bunk, he would. Dew had found some little trinket tucked into his guitar case when he opened it up for the first time to prep for tour, and it's been on his bedside table ever since. It's all lovingly ensconced in an explosion of flowers that Mountain maintains like a soul-bound duty, heliotrope and lavender and aster and stargazer lilies, each one beautiful and perfect.

"I think that would be nice. I haven't been since we got back. The lilies should be blooming, and I think Mountain will forgive me if I take one for myself." Copia muses, wondering if he can find some little bud vase that he can get Rain and Mountain to jointly enchant to have a perpetual flower on his desk.

"Oh, you know those things make me sick whenever you handle them too much." Dew grumbles, but it's playful, light, and the beat of his tail on the bed says as much.

"Ah, so I shouldn't wear my gloves to pick one? Wouldn't want those dreadful lilies near your, eh, most sensitive parts." Copia gets a wicked little smile, and Dew pushes him away with a groan, flopping back to the bed and watching as a couple of feathers float up from it.

"You're so lucky I love you."

"I am."

#dew/copia #dewdrop ghoul #papa emeritus iv #ghost #the band ghost #ghost bc #my writing #im fine :)

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deafeningmoontragedy · 2 years

Text

Who brakes first?

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Girlfriend reader (Plus size)

Summary: Eddie mentions his ex girlfriend in a situation where she is far from welcome.

Wordcount: 5k

IF SMUT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE DONT READ!!!!