#yeah i'm a fucking dork

[tessa-quayle]

No one:

No one at all:

Chaotic me: look at these Joel Miller fics that mention Uno 🤣

Everyone else (especially the authors of said fics): 😬

the marvelous @astroboots gracing us with this perfect joel miller fic (“Uno,” you announce as you drop the last card in the pile of red, blue and green cards in front of him.)

and this one (“That definitely wasn’t Uno,” Grace said, or rather panted. It was some kind of win that she wasn’t outright gasping for air...) by @jomiddlemarch - the post includes a link to ao3 for the full story - and her 5 sentence ficlet (second part of this post) that preceded it.

#uno #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x ofc #tlou fanfiction #fic rec #yeah i'm a fucking dork #jomiddlemarch #astroboots

[wordsinhaled]

okay, actually, i'm sad chibnall made everyone dislike thirteen because i wanna yell about her and have no one to yell with

#i love her sm #doctor who #thirteenth doctor #i'm watching diodati right now and she's wearing the fucking WATERLOO HELMET like a DORK and like. yeah. pretty much. SHE

[tigirl-and-co]

Bc my phone wasn't working i couldn't listen to music on the drive to work. I ended up just LOUDLY yapping to myself about how god damned batshit legosi's family is for the full ride

#beastly braying #legosi: every interspecies relationship i know about has ended terribly. unfortunately i am still going to fuck this rabbit #haru: yeah it's probably gonna kill me but like have you SEEN this dork? I can't not fuck him #AND i'm like wayyyy less suicidal now so BONUS #mostly thinking about his stupid fucking grandma. like girl i get it. big lizard man hot #BUT YOU HAD LIKE TEN YEARS OF A WONDERFUL MARRIAGE #and you cross the ONE boundary. the ONLY BOUNDARY #the boundary that ONLY EXISTS bc crossing it would kill you #and guess what fucking happened. YOU DIED. YOU DIED FOR ONE SINGULAR KISS WITH TONGUE #YOU WERE ALREADY FUCKING THE MAN YOU DIDN'T NEED TO DO THAT #...is calling legosi's grandma a monsterfucker racist?

[transgender-catboy]

I. Um. I'm back on my bullshit.

#nyehehehehe #lookit his face #god. i have things to say about this one #but. i shall. restrain myself #just a little bit though #just that #“huh? what are you doing?” kinda look #that lil bit of fear and confusion #not even mentioning it's because somethin is being stuck in his mouth #just. that hint of fear? yeah. okay. I'm fine and normal about it #have. have I mentioned i love when men are scared? that's definitely an issue of mine #i guess it's just seeing men powerless... it . i dunno. it's fun. pretty. cute. #they look good. scared. :3 #okay! anyways! #eh. heh. #yeah. i know i got problems #but you're the dork reading the tags. curiousity cats all that jazz #rip dude #OH AND LIV MY FUCKING BELOVED

[loverdotpng]

Love this sprite of him..

#also love drawing him in his jammies. they're very cute he looks nice in them #🍛 #My art #My content #Phoenix.txt #img #was looking at screenshots of him and omg....... he's so obvious abt his crush on the player what a fruit!!! /lh #Vin: ''Do you think abt people when you're bored'' Player: ''Yeah lol'' Vin: ''(I wonder who you think about.. I hope it's me.)'' #paraphrasing but oh my fucking god what a dork can we kiss now /lh #if the player asks him who he thinks about he gets too embarrassed to answer!!! gay!!!!!!! #he also says something like ''You're all I think about lately. I think I'm in love.'' #melts and dissolves and turns into vapor #HE'S SO CUTE THIS ISN'T FAIR :( #need my 3/d/s fixed or the switch vers RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!

[in-newjersey]

making the somewhat bold choice of taking the unabashedly happy ending of BMC at more or less face value

#let things end well #like ngl I was haunted by Joe's post suggesting a Little Shop movie-style ending where it's like #yeah *this* high school beat the SQUIPs but they're almost definitely spreading all over the world elsewhere #like nah bro I'm choosing to say fuck that the Mtn Dew Red wiped them all in one go #Christine and Jeremy are unironically happy #Michael is a loveable dork who's surprisingly easygoing and forgiving once he comes around to all of it while Jer's in the hospital #like these are Canon to the musical as we know it #bmc

[abysslll]

so the good news is that i figured out how to draw gyro. the bad news is that i cannot draw johnny without him looking like an absolute dork

#was gonna include a sneakpeak of my drawing but i'm gonna wait #anyway #that is KINDA their dynamic right? #johnny's a dork and.... #ok yeah so is gyro #hhhh for some reason i just Can't draw johnny #like i have his design down and like. it looks like him but it Doesn't #its really fucking annoying

[empyrealarc]

Barring the ones that came in after I started, I think that’s errbody... if not, let me know!

#ᶦ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃʳˢ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ; OOC. #yeah i could use a 'thread tracker' or 'save drafts' like a fucking dork #but i'm too cool for that #*sunglasses*

[wowitsverycool]

I've figured it out. I've cracked the code. the reason I say things like “I am cringe but I am free” while still being hopelessly insecure about what other people think of me is the cringe in mind when I say these things is dorky and endearing, it’s the TBH creature. the cringe I am terrified of exhibiting is the kind that could possibly get me called the “quiet kid” from those old edgy bad taste memes about said quiet kid secretly being extremely violent (those memes have had an incredibly severe negative impact on humanity btw), the kind that the Cool cringe people will mock, the kind where assumptions lead to the conclusion that I am a genuinely reprehensible person, as opposed to malice based on being somewhat annoying 

its also because sometimes funny meme phrases are all we have

#is that last line cringe(bad)? #fuck man idk #im not doing too hot rn #im relating to characters you get made fun of for relating to #and I'm SO tempted to just cover it in layers and layers of irony so people don't compare me to. idk. #the type of people that slap bad financial advice on top of joker pictures #or something #you relate to (character)? haha yeah dude of course you do you fucking idiot you fucking dolt #this is the image I have of other people in my head #ALSO scared of consuming things the wrong way even though that CONTRADICTSALL THE BELIEFS I HOLD??? #somehow I am inherently so terrified of doing something I simultaneously encourage and desire for myself #I want to scream!!!! AAAAA!!!! #ITS THE GOTDAMN!! FUCKING!!! MAINSTREAM DORK CULTURE THINGK AGAIN FUCK!!!!!!! #why do I fall in this hole every day #when I know #I KNOW its so reductive #im so cringe(bad)... why can't I just let myself be cringe(good)..

[lumeha]

mumble something something thinking about how Persona 4 uses the available dialogue options as well as the social stats, the dialogue option they unlock, and what is available to Yu as hobbies and part-time work to show off his character, all without having any more detailed lines of dialogue than the dialogue options (at least until the spin-off like Dancing All Night), and how this is a pretty fascinating way to build a character while still letting the player have influence on the direction you can take him

#UH bigger than Kanji.... #mumbling more while sobbing a little about Tatsuya and how despite being a silent protag in P2IS he has portraits that express his emotions #and how many little details you get to know about him that makes him silent but actively a character you can get to know #dude has some well established likes and dislikes you can't influence as the player #and yeah he speaks in P2EP but I think that's UUHHH an interesting case (still sobbing) bc he went through IS but #crying #Also Dancing All Night has Yu compare something's size to Kanji's size and I'm NOT over it #dude REALLY just saw something big and went #SiR yOu FuCkInG dOrK #can't speak about P1/3/5 because I didn't play them but Minato has a pretty expressive design that does seem to translate part of his chara #barks.txt

[ahogedetective]

❝ hey, shuichi-kun! just checking in on you, you've been holed up in your room all day! you better be taking care of yourself, mister, or else you'll have to answer to me! ❞ (aka it's been a while hello <3 if u got an ask from me twice forgive me i sent an ask to u earlier and tumblr banned me for it)

Today was uneventful day, and he didn't need a reason to go outside in that cold weather: so Shuichi decided to just stay in his room for today, excitedly taking this chance to finally indulge in his newest book purchase. He paused his reading at one point when hearing someone at his door. Seeing that it was Kaede, was a nice surprise. He was always happy to see her.

"Hi, Kaede-san! Oh, h-heh heh: so you knew, huh? Thank you for wanting to check up on me... b-but, um-!!" At the light scolding, he waves his hands in protest while smiling sheepishly. "I-I've been taking care of myself, really!! I took breaks in between reading to at least eat!" She knows him far too well, he thinks to himself..!

"S-So I'm alright!! How about you, how are you doing? I hope you've been doing the same, yourself!"

#KATHYYYY!!! *BEAR HUGS YOU!!!* HIII BBY I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU~! ❤️❤️❤️ #BUT OH MY GOD /WHAT/???? #TUMBLR WHAT THE FUCK!!! IMMA FIGHT!!! 🔫🔫🔫 #YEAH I saw the first one but wow that really is so weird I hope that doesn't happen again!!! #BUT NOW... time for more of the gOOD SCRUNKLIES TEE HEE HEE.... #JFNDNJ I love how Kaede just Knows that this dork was in his room all day!!!! #gotta drag him away from them books sometimes smhhh!!! #Shuichi answers;; #upbeatpianist

[fceriestcrdst]

when your f/os bully you into finally returning to xe/he pronouns bc they know they make you happy. but also when your f/os bully you into accepting the name kylo--the very name you've thought abt on & off for months bc crow was mostly a placeholder to cut ties to bad things----

#theyre always right abt the things in my head & its so rude #& i did this is 2 of them were just [sips tea] #a third was all 'yeah but you like the name kylo so so much--you like xe/xem so so much--you fucking dork' #like yes ty scott love u too buddy #kylo rambles #oh also--the reason i'm not gonna use tag replacer to edit my tags is bc i have far too many & tag replacer has a habit of breaking my tags #if i use it for anything over 1k posts

[luveline]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you. [8.8k]

warnings 18+ only smut, fem!reader, eddie teaches you how to masturbate, p in v sex, light praise kink, mutual pining/lusting, lots of kissing, dirty talk, weed ment, aftercare, they are not so secretly infatuated with one another, eddie is a soft dork but also dirty <3 r implied as dressing very femininely

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie kneels outside his trailer. 

You stop at the lip of the grass and wonder what he's doing. His back is to you, covered by a band shirt familiar even from this angle and riddled with rips and moth holes. You're about to call out to him when he speaks. 

"You're hot, huh, sweetheart?" Softer than you've ever heard him. "Why don't you go inside? Escape the heat, yeah?"

You approach slowly, footfall smothered by the lush green underfoot. He's scratching behind the ears of a tabby cat. 

"It's so hot out! The sun's gonna cook you," he says, whisper-shouting.

Like the tabby can understand what he's saying it stands, stretches tall and then slinks off into the trailer. "Good girl," Eddie says, standing up. 

"Are you collecting strays?" you ask lightly. 

He turns to you, surprised but not scared. "Don't worry, you're still my favourite." 

Good girl. His words ring loud between both ears. "I'm not a stray." 

"Uh-huh. What's my shy girl want today?" You spin on your heel and Eddie starts laughing. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Come on, you'll like what I have!" 

"You know I can't talk to you when you get like this," you tell him, pouting from over your shoulder. 

He pushes a mess of black curls behind his ear and beckons you forward. "Come on," he says, sing-song. "Let daddy set you up."

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, following Eddie into his house unhappily. 

You hate when he gets in this mood, not because he's ever really made you uncomfortable, but because you like to be teased, and he knows it. Or he likes watching you squirm. Either way, it's dangerous territory. 

"How much did you want?" he asks. 

The cool inside of his trailer is a blessing. You hold your naked arms away from your skin and try to take a deep breath of cool air. "I have thirty dollars. So… however much that is." 

"Babe, what the fuck do you want so much for?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at you incredulously. 

You follow him into his room. "Do you not have it?" you ask, tracing posters you've seen upwards of ten times by now. Eddie's a good dealer – reliable, sweet, and prone to freebies without any pervy requests in place. 

He once swapped you an eighth for a cheap charm bracelet. He wears it now, the silver delicate and entirely too sweet for his metalhead appearance. It looks good on him, anyhow. 

He pulls open the usual lunchbox you hadn't noticed sitting on one of his amps and pulls out more pot than you've ever seen at one time. "Don't I?" 

"Woah."

"Uh-huh. Ern't she preddy?" he asks in a drawing southern accent. 

You hold out your hands and he lets you take it. When you open the zip lock bag, the smell isn't awful. The buds are thick with green fuzz, and your eyes water. 

You pass it back to him. "How much can I have for thirty?" 

"For you? Half." 

"Don't do that, Eddie. Gimme what you'd give anyone else." 

"But you're not anyone else, babe. You're my favourite customer." 

"I'm gonna put you out of business," you say, lightly chiding. "Can I sit down?" 

He hums and nods and you sit cross legged at the top of his bed. His bed sheets are pushed away and the space is cold. His pillow under your hand is colder. 

Eddie doesn't bother weighing it. You roll your eyes at him but also feel amazingly happy, because it's a lot of pot for not a lot of money, because his favouritism speaks for what you hope might be a small crush. Still, when he passes you the new bag you feel guilty. 

"Eddie, I can't take that. I know that's more than thirty." 

His eyebrows jump. "I don't care. What's the point in doing this if I can't give pretty girls a little something extra?" 

"I don't know. To make money?" 

He holds out the bag. You don't take it. "Fine," he says, sighing.

"Thank you." You watch him fish three or four bigger buds out of the bag. He presents you with a much more reasonable amount, his hands stained with the smell. "Thank you," you say again.

"Yeah. Wanna stay and watch a movie?" 

You've known Eddie since middle school. Classmates, not really friends, not not friends, though ever since you've started buying a small kinship has blossomed between you. 

"What movie?" 

"Whatever you want." 

You nibble the inside of your lip. "You'll roll up for me?" 

"Sure will." 

So you end up on Eddie's couch with the tabby cat that isn't his purring heavily on your lap as he rolls a couple of joints for you. You won't smoke anything until tonight so Eddie drops them into your newly acquired ziplock bag with papers and the leftover bud. 

He sniffs. "So, you're not sleeping?" he asks knowingly, straightening out with a groan and disappearing out of view into the kitchenette. You're a total overthinker. Pot helps you calm down.

"I'm sleeping." 

"After toking up." 

"There's…" You scratch the vibrating cat behind its ears, frowning to yourself. "Worse things to do." 

"Better ones, though. Hey, do you want a drink?" 

You say no and he brings you a glass of water anyways. His hands smell strongly of hand soap and faintly of weed as he passes it to you. You take it carefully, wary of disturbing your cuddle partner. 

"Like what?" you ask.

"Cranking one out, for starters." 

You wince, afraid to bring the lip of the glass to your mouth in case you choke on it. "Anything else?"

"Running?" Eddie suggests, sitting with you but leaving a more than comfortable gap between your legs.

"Not my thing," you murmur. 

It's weird, but anything above murmuring feels like shouting in the calm of his home. The movie plays on the TV and the cat purs, Eddie spreads his legs out and slouches into the cushions, his face surrounded by dark hair. He smiles at you like he always does, amicable if slightly flirty. 

"Maybe pot is your only option," he says mournfully. He pulls a lock of hair in front of his face and his eyebrows pinch together. "Make sure you brush your teeth after though. Or you'll get bad teeth."

"Bad teeth?" 

"Smoking ruins your pearls." 

You put down your glass of water and weave your fingers into the cat's rough fur. Eddie is really nice. Really really nice. And he probably likes you, so… what's the worst that could happen, by asking? 

I'm only asking, you decide. 

"Eddie," you say softly, disrupting a big tobacco rant that he'd started. "What- when you say cranking one out, that's-" 

"You know." He holds his hand above his crotch and squeezes the air. You feel a terrible heat start to collect in your abdomen. "Five to one? Uh- Nulling the void?" He grasps for words at your lost expression. "Making soup?" 

His voice goes high. You think he's as embarrassed as you are, and you're not gonna ask again. You giggle. "Oh, right." 

He drops his hand heavy against the seat of his pants and leans back. "Crank one out and sleep like a log." 

"That works for you?" you ask tentatively. 

"Every night." 

You sink down into the couch and hide your face in cat fur. Eddie starts asking about how your job is, a genuine, earnest interest that further cements your next decision. You clear your throat. 

"Eddie, can I ask you something?" He grins and waves his hand. "When you," you wince, "'make soup', do you just- how do you…" You slink down so far you're almost falling off of the couch. "How do you make yourself-" You gesture to your pelvis and then screw your hand into a fist, self-conscious.

He blinks. "Finish?" 

You look at the chain around his neck rather than his face. "Yeah." 

"Are you asking me because you want to know how I do it, or because you don't know how to do it to yourself?" 

You rub your cheek with your shoulder. "The second option." 

"Shit," he mutters. 

"Sorry, you don't have to- I just thought-" 

Eddie sits up. He looks more serious than he had before but not any less patient, elbows braced on his knees and head propped up in his hand. He parts his fingers over his lips. 

"You don't know how?" he asks. 

"I must've missed that lesson in sex ed," you try to joke. It comes out awkward. Eddie laughs anyways, a huff of breath. 

"Lucky you, I've sat through sex ed three times." He grins brilliantly, but his joking tone softens when he sees your hesitant expression. "If you wanna know, I'm happy to tell you." 

"Are you sure?"

"We're friends, right? What are friends for?" You don't miss the sarcastic twist to his words or his ironic smile. 

Friends like you and Eddie likely aren't meant to be giving one another lessons on masturbation. But really, he's the only person you know who you could ask and wouldn't feel totally looked down on. Eddie's nice to his core, but better – he doesn't judge. 

You struggle to know what to ask. 

The cat chooses this moment to wake and jump off of you, strutting out of the trailer's open door and back into the sunlight without so much as a grateful look back. 

And now you're alone with him. 

"How's your anatomy?" he asks. You shake your head slowly. "You know, grade wise? Are we passing? B? B-? C?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Munson." 

"Do you know what's what?" he asks concisely.

You sit up and press your knees together, suddenly very aware of your 'anatomy'. "I think so." 

He purses his lips for a few seconds before shrugging. "Alright. We can work with that." Eddie pushes his cheek into the couch and looks at your face unflinching as he says, "You know what your clit is?" 

You cringe. Full body. 

Eddie shrugs. "What? That's what it's called. You don't have to be embarrassed about it." 

"I know what it is." 

"And you can't make yourself-" 

"No." 

He doesn't miss your frustration. "Hey, hey, it's fine. Some people think that it's, like, a magic on-button, but it's not. There's a whole process." 

"How do you know?" you ask genuinely. 

His answering smile is wolfish. "I'm in a band, babe. Fucking a guitarist is like, a bucket list thing or some shit. Girls will tell you exactly what they want if you're willing to listen." 

Something about his knowing look has your heart skipping a beat. Maybe two. He pushes his hand across the couch and you're not sure if it's on purpose or accident, only that he's leaning in, a small smile on his face. 

"And I'm a damn good listener." 

You meet his eyes and know what he's offering. He waits, ring heavy fingers splayed wide in the space between you. It's the sight of them – thick, long and adorned in string-wrought calluses – that tips you over the edge. 

He's already pulling back with a reassuring smile on his face, lips parted to likely say something too nice when you interrupt him. 

"Will you teach me?" you ask quietly. 

A split-second of surprise is quickly overtaken by enthusiasm. "You're not high, are you?" 

"No." 

He gets up to close the door and starts for his room. You linger on the couch uselessly and he doubles back, hand on the wall. "Are you coming?" 

The noise from the TV fades as you walk down the hall and into his room. Your socked foot nudges into a tower of books close to the door and you reach out to steady them. Eddie pulls the sheets back into place and flicks on the lamp. He pauses by the stereo before turning that on, too. 

A song you don't recognise starts to play. Eddie climbs up onto his bed and stands there for a second, suddenly very tall. "You wanna take off your jacket?"

"It's a cardigan." You peel the thin white cotton off of your shoulders and shift from foot to foot, unsure of yourself. 

Eddie settles on his knees, pulls off his rings. "It's pretty. Come here," he says, holding out his arms. 

You slide onto the bed cautiously, naked calves rubbing against the sheets. You feel as though every sense has been dialled to eleven; you're thinking about every brush of fabric, every small sound that they make. 

Eddie takes one of your hands and you sit with one leg crossed and the other hanging off the edge of the bed, surprised at his soft touch. He soothes your hand and brings it to his lap, eyes on your now-bared shoulders. 

"You dress real pretty." He says it with his usual dramatics, though there's enough sincerity there to make you smile. 

You look down at your delicate clothes thoughtfully. "You think so?" 

"Mh-hm. It suits you," he says as he drums his thumbs against the back of your hand. 

He pushes one palm up the length of your arm and pulls it towards him at the same time. You've never been touched like this before and you want it bad, shuffling towards him with a shameful speed. He takes it in stride, hand bumping up the hill of your shoulder. His index finger slides under the skinny strap of your top and tugs at it playfully. 

"You look sweet. Really sweet," he says, his voice more hushed than before. His eyes drop to your thighs. "You'll have to take those off, though."

"My shirt too?" you ask weakly, eyebrows pinched up at the starts. 

"Not if you don't want to." You hesitate. He takes your thigh into a big hand and gives you a small shake. "It's okay. Take your time. Or, if you changed your mind, that's totally cool." 

"No, I haven't," you deny, voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. You kick your legs out in front of you one at a time and ease your shorts over the slopes of your thighs and calves, pushing them off of his bed with your feet. 

“If you change your mind at any point-“

“I’ll tell you,” you say, nodding as you pull your knees together. 

Eddie manoeuvres so he’s close, twisted toward you with his hand braced by your thigh. The cold metal of the charm bracelet you'd swapped him bites into your skin. If you leaned back and he leaned forward, he could kiss you. You think maybe he has the same idea as his eyes dart to your lips. 

They linger. 

He blinks and it’s gone. 

“I’m gonna rub your leg,” he says quietly, “and when I get to the inside, I’m gonna touch you. Okay?”

As he says it, his hand moves onto your thigh. Down to your knee.

Slowly, so slowly, back up. His fingers caress the inside of your thigh. He pauses. 

“‘Kay,” you whisper. 

His fingers flex over your flesh as he draws in. Then, like a shock, his fingertips press to your underwear. 

“I’m not surprised,” he says steadily, fingers brushing over your cunt, ghosting but never truly touching where you want him to. 

“By what?” 

“That you wear such cute panties.” He strokes the hem with the tip of his finger and you hold your breath as he slides it under the elastic, running the fabric over his digit gently. “S’exactly the kind of thing I pictured you wearing.”

“You’ve pictured them?” 

He looks up from his teasing and your panties snap into place. You gasp on instinct and his eyes narrow, his lashes kissing in the corners. “Does that bother you?” he murmurs. 

You shake your head. His lips quirk up, a smugness that makes your heart race ever faster. 

"Do you do anything like this with yourself?" he asks. 

"I'm never this nice." 

"That's a crime," he says, and he laughs loud, momentarily shattering the distilled atmosphere that had settled over you both. "Thighs like these and you don't touch them?"

"Is that what you do?" you ask, insecure.

"No, but it's different. I don't need to get warmed up like you do." 

"Warmed up?" you whisper. Having to ask these questions feels so embarrassing. 

Eddie being so soft about it makes it easier. "Relaxed," he whispers in turn, laughing towards the end.

His thumb rubs the elastic of your underwear and drifts slowly inward until he's pushing over your folds. You gasp and it's slightly startled, sounding too close to panic for Eddie, who's hand flinches away. 

"Didn't like that?" he asks. 

You rush, "It's okay. Surprised." 

One big hand holds your thigh, the other strokes your cunt. He's a little firmer now, pushing the breadth of his thumb over your panties until he touches something very sensitive. "Here?" He pushes up a little higher and your breath catches. He makes an almost inaudible cooing sound and flattens his hand, rubbing the length of your cunt without finesse. It feels good anyway. It surprises you how much you like it. 

He pinches your panties.

"Ready to take them off?" he asks. 

"Yeah." 

You lift your hips and peel your underwear down, folding your legs to pull them off of your ankles. You clutch them in your hand, unsure. 

Eddie sits back and pulls you towards him. You let him manhandle you with a small gasp, his hands pressing into the soft of your tummy. You can't see his face anymore. 

"Alright," he murmurs, pulling your thigh over his lap and spreading you wide. His voice is loud in your ear because of his proximity, and you resist the temptation to turn your face to his.

"Let's just-" he works your underwear out of your hand and tosses them aside. 

His hand lands on your knee and moves down fast. 

You lean back heavily into his chest with your hands pulled to your sternum. 

"Eddie," you say, "what do I do?" 

He hums. "Touch yourself." 

You seize up and he's quick to soothe, fingers closing around the crook of your elbow.

"Hey, I'm gonna show you. I'm gonna show you," he repeats. He pulls at the lip of your cunt and spreads you open, groaning softly. You wouldn't hear it if his lips weren't so close to your face. "How'd you have a cunt this sweet and never touch it? I mean, fuck." 

His fingertips whisper past your pubic hair like he's going to say something more, but he only asks, "Hand?" 

You put your hand into his, the back to his palm. 

He sets it to your thigh. "Do what I did before, okay? Slowly…" He drags your hand up and down the length of your thigh. 

Your heart is racing. Every time you crawl close to your cunt the burning longing to be touched, to touch yourself, and to have him touch you intensifies. 

Eventually he pulls your hand to your clit. "You're so sensitive. Is it always this bad?" he asks sympathetically when you jump, tickled at the feelin. 

"I haven't tried in a while." 

"Oh, I see." Eddie encourages you to push your fingertip into the bead of your clit, drawing slow circles. "Poor baby. Just desperate to have someone take care of you." His voice is so low, so ridiculously soft, you find yourself sinking into his hold. He squeezes the crook of your elbow with one hand, the other still guiding your ministrations. You bite your lip at the sensation that's begun, the tiny spark of pleasure.

"Here, let me-" He lifts your hand away from your clit and you whine involuntarily. "Shh, sweetheart, I'm only gonna give you something to work with." 

You turn your head to him and watch as his mouth opens. He sucks the very tip of your finger between his lips, the heat of his tongue a momentary flash. When he pulls it back, your finger shines with his spit. 

Your eyes are half-lidded, watching through the crush of your lashes as he presses it back to your clit. "How's that? S'that better?" he asks, crooning. His tone sports an underlying mockery, a light-hearted teasing that's slowly turning intense. 

It is better. It's different. Your fingertip searches for purchase against the slick skin and struggles to find it, the wetness allowing for freer, faster movement. 

You push a second finger against the first. 

Eddie stops helping. You pause, confused. 

"No, you got it, sweetheart. You keep going," he reassures, grabbing a hold of your thigh again. He teases the dough there, never cruel but maybe close, fat moulding under his fingers as he squeezes. 

Your breathing builds with pleasure. Still, it's hot enough; there's no sign of an oncoming climax, no tightening coil in your tummy. You huff with exertion and frustration. "Eddie, it's not working." 

"I'm not done." He sounds almost stern. Your stomach flips. "You have to think about what you want." 

"What I want?" 

"What turns you on." 

You think of his hands and their rings. His happy trail. 

His voice. Good girl. 

You slam your eyes shut.

Eddie gives you another mean squeeze. "What do you think about, when you-" 

You don't let him finish. "What do you think about?" you ask, too loud. 

He stills. His nose pushes into your shoulder, his hair tickling your skin as he asks, "Are you sure you wanna know?"

Your breath catches. Your fingers stutter where they work into your clit and Eddie starts you right back up again. His lips brush your shoulder. 

"Yes," you say, gasping as pleasure like little shocks of heat shoot to your core. 

The hand at your elbow starts to rove, tickling your arm as he strokes downwards. "You first," he murmurs, teasing your wrist. You swear you can feel his smile against your shoulder. 

You breathe in through your nose. "Uh, I think of- of somebody…" You try, but you just can't say it. 

Eddie's fingers push down your crease. Stop right before your entrance. "Is this okay?" 

"Yeah." 

"Mmm…" He circles your entrance. "Now what does a pretty girl like you think of when she's touching herself?" You don't think he wants an answer. His middle finger brushes across the slick well and pushes in. You squirm and he holds you in place. 

There's something very hard digging into your spine. 

"Something sweet as you… Let me guess. Boy next door comes around to mow the lawn, you invite him in for a drink, one thing comes to another-" He pushes his finger in deeper. "And he's fucking you.

"That sound about right?" 

You shake your head. His own perks up where it rests on your shoulder. "No? Huh." 

Your circles have grown slow and staggered, distracted by his touch as he eases his ring finger in beside his middle. "Something more romantic? Wedding night, love of your life. Guy that's gonna treat you like a diamond. Way a girl like you deserves." He pushes in, stretches them out. You moan as he curls them, as his arm works back and forth. "Gives it to you gentle." His movements slow to match.

And sure, that sounds nice. But it's not what you think about. 

"No," you manage to get out through shallow breaths. 

"No? You don't want it gentle?" 

"Not- not all the time." 

"How about right now?"

"Please." 

Slowly, slowly, the shape of Eddie's hard cock against your back starts to move in time with the thrusts of his hand. He pushes in deep, fingers searching emphatically for the sweet spot, the thing that's gonna make you- 

"Fuck," you whimper. 

His cock jumps. You feel it. 

"You keep rubbing that pretty little clit of yours, sweetheart." 

You do as he asks. You're desperate enough now that you imagine you'd do most anything he says, your climax a tangible, physical possibility. Your tummy feels heavy and aching with want, worse when he probes deeply and marks your sweet spot again. His lips press to your shoulder, soft enough that you worry you're imagining it. 

"You see what I'm doing here? See what fingers I'm using?" he asks. You open your eyes reluctantly. His wrist turns. You watch his fingers sink into the gummy heat of your cunt. "Tight little hole's just pulling me in, fucking clinging to me, baby, she's greedy." 

You gasp, a hiccup of scandalised sound. 

"Want you to try, okay? You gonna do that for me?" 

"Yeah, Eddie." 

"Good girl." You moan, you don't mean to, but he's fucking into your quick and your finger pushes into your clit roughly. Eddie revels in it. "You like that? You like being called a good girl? I fucking knew it." 

You frown and start to turn to him. He presses his cheek to your head so you can't, stuck looking down the length of the bed at your trembling legs. 

"You looked so flustered, standing all sweet and quiet by the van out front with your thighs squeezed together. You think I didn't see that shit?" 

You're limp against him, thighs spread wide as you work into your clit, chasing this new feeling. You can hardly breathe, every exhale a keening moan that has you shame-faced and weepy. You roll your hips to meet his fingers, his hand slapping against your cunt with a slick slap. 

"You looked so sweet. Y'always do." He turns his lips to your ear and curls into you until your squealing. "Guess looks can be deceiving." 

You're so close, so close. Tendrils of heat curl heavily at your core. "Eddie, I'm- I'm-"

"You wanna cum?"

"Yes," you pant. 

He pulls his fingers from your cunt and you're so confused that you stop, your climax slipping away in seconds. 

"Sorry, but you have to do it yourself. This is all pointless if you can't get there on your own," he says. 

Your chest heaves. "That's mean. You're mean." 

"I never claimed otherwise. Here, middle and marriage, babe." He guides your hand to your entrance. You push your fingers inside, your tongue between your lips in concentration. Your fingers aren't as thick as his, they don't feel quite the same, but Eddie pushes your thumb into your clit. "Move your wrist. Feel that? Feel how soft you are? How fucking warm you are?" 

You're not nearly as good as he was but every clumsy touch feels electric. You push your thumb into sweeping circles and pant your frustration aloud, feeling close to tears. 

"You wanna know what I think about, when I jerk off?" he asks unexpectedly.

You nod, your head moving back into his collar. He rubs the lengths of your arms leisurely, his lazy demeanour in total juxtaposition to your desperation.

"There's this girl that comes to see me," he starts, coloured by a smug amusement. "Sweet thing, soft-spoken, always wearing these pretty clothes looking like something straight out of the movies.

"I think about a lot of things. Her thighs-" One of his hands falls to your thigh in time, massaging, "fuck, just wanna bury my face in them and never come out. Pull down those cotton shorts she's so partial to with the dainty stitching and-" He laughs and his lips part over your shoulder. His teeth scratch up, up, up. "Make her fucking cry my name. Feel those thighs tense up around me." 

You're so close your entire body shudders. You slow without meaning to, holding your breath in wait for Eddie to finish his story  

He gives you one final push. "Always wondered if she sounds as pretty as she looks when she cums." He kisses the small graze he'd given you mere seconds ago and everything is blue-white with heat. "Gonna clue me in, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me?" 

Your eyes close hard and you breathe out, an exhale ragged and weak and mewling. You don't moan so much as sob without tears, tensing up in Eddie's arms as bliss blooms. You pull your hand from your sopping cunt and feel your walls contract around nothing as you cum.

He pulls you close, throbbing cock pressing hard into your back. "Fuck," he hisses, hands placating where they lay. 

You go lax, head tipping back as you suck in air that had felt elusive moments ago. 

Eddie rubs your arms without saying anything. You cover his hands and try to summon up words. 

"Just as pretty as you look," he murmurs. 

He's so fuckng nice. So fucking nice, and what? He thinks about you when he jacks off? Since when? 

You sit up and drop your chin to your chest, panting still. 

"You okay?"

After a few seconds you smile and turn to him, intent on saying, Yes, thank you, and maybe something with more gratitude, something silly, just something. But you can't speak.

His face is close. 

Eddie brings a hand to the slope of your rising shoulder, follows a line to the curve of your neck. You look to his eyes and find him staring at your lips unabashedly. 

He pulls you into him. You close your eyes. 

Eddie Munson tastes like lots of things as he kisses you.

Cigarettes, unavoidable. Under that, sugar. Something sweet but heavy as bourbon vanilla. Your lips part and close in tandem with his, slow and hungry. Your heart races and your fingers are still wet as you twist in his arms and take his face into your hands. 

You climb up onto your knees and Eddie doesn't know what to do with you. 

He smiles so hard he has to pull away. Not smirking, smiling, a cheek-aching, too-happy smile that softens everything in your chest. 

You rub a shaking thumb over his cheek. You don't know if it's because of the post-orgasm rush of hormones or because he just kissed you and now he's smiling like he might do it again. 

He does. He kisses you and grabs your waist. His fingers mess with the hem of your shirt and he breaks the kiss short to say, "Take it off?" 

You sit back on your knees, feel the mess of wet between your legs spread as you grab at the edge of your shirt and pull it up. Eddie helps though he doesn't need to, and just like that you're shirtless. 

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening," he says, voice weak in what you suspect is one of his dramatics. 

He slides his hands up your sides and stops just below your breasts. His thumbs grace the undersides and his brow puckers. "Fuck," he mouths appreciatively. 

You flush head to toe. "Yours, too?" you ask gently. 

Eddie reaches back to pull off his shirt. His hair's in total disarray and he runs his hands through it, biceps flexing with the movement, torso taut. The black ink of his tattoos move with him and your eyes eat up every single one. 

He catches your eyes where they linger on the volley of bats. "You like that one?" 

"I've always liked that one." 

He grins and it's honey thick, hands at the small of your back and tugging. You spread your knees wide on impulse and find yourself flush to his chest, his arms locking you into place as he dives in for another kiss. Again you're surprised at how deeply he kisses you, how it ebbs and flows from slow to fast like he's both savouring and gorging himself on your closeness. 

You've never been kissed like this. You're weightless. You feel every contiguity between you, the hot and wet of his mouth, the crook of his elbow against the nape of your neck, your nipples peaked against his chest and the length of his dick pushing up into your aching cunt. 

"Fucking pretty," he says, pulling back just enough to kiss the corner of your mouth, your chin. He kisses your jaw over and over and over, lips pulling into crescents and then the same word. Pretty. 

His mouth opens wide at your throat, teeth scratching lightly as it closes. He sucks your skin between his lips and rolls it, hand spreading wide and palm flat at your shoulder blade. Steadying. . 

"That's cute," he says when he pulls away, lips shining. 

"What?" you ask, hand drifting up. You poke at the quick-forming contusion.

He nudges it aside with his face as he moves in to further mark up your neck. "You're so fucking pretty," he says, each word separated by a nipping kiss. 

His hands are everywhere.

Everything is warm and you can't breathe. You plant your hands at his shoulders and push away from him, and he stops you from falling flat on your back, levelling you with a worried glance. 

"Is it too much?" he asks. 

"No, I'm just hot. Really hot." You take a big breath and wipe your face with the back of both hands. 

"That's true," he says, leaning back against the wall. His hands fall to your thighs. "Are you okay?" 

You drop your hands abruptly and can't believe the fondness you're feeling. "You're pretty, too," you tell him. Honest if very shy; meek, entirely sincere. "I'm okay. I want…" 

"You want?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"I have this fantasy," you begin. 

Eddie widens your legs to move from under them. It doesn't surprise you when he comes to lie on your chest, holding his weight off of you with an arm at the side of your ribs. His hair falls and hides the room from view. All you can see is his face, and it's beautiful. 

"Tell me about it." 

"It's- okay. It's…" You drift off as he dips down to kiss your collar, only chaste pecks but enough to distract you. "It's kind of like this." 

"Yeah?" His breath warms your chest. More ditzy kisses.

"I get here and you're coming out of the shower-" 

"Tasteful." 

"With a towel low on your hips," you add pointedly. It's useless, his sarcasm has pinned you spot on. "And you- you touch me." 

Eddie kitten licks the skin he's just nibbled and looks up. "Like this?" 

"Like this." 

"And after that," his hand moves between you to the zipper of his jeans, the sound of metal clicking metal ringing through the room, "what do I do?" 

"You push me down into the bed, and-" You feel the fabric of his jeans rub your thighs as he pulls them down. "You…" 

"What do I do, sweetheart?" 

"You push my legs up and you fuck me," you confess.

He scrambles back towards his nightstand, a hand on your ankle that says, I'm not going far. "How do I fuck you? Am I rough?" 

"Not at first." 

There, in his hands, the red plastic of a condom wrapper, bright as a maraschino cherry. He holds it up and you nod. 

"Not at first," he murmurs, ripping open the condom, hissing as he pulls it over his weeping cock. It's big – not too thick, but big, surrounded by a thatch of dark curls trimmed neat. "But eventually?" 

He rolls it on tight and then there's nothing but this admission of your guiltiest fantasy. You spread your legs without thinking and he pulls you towards him, thumb collecting slick where it's pooled and pushing it up towards your entrance. What's left on his fingers he smears over the length of his shaft. You watch him rub at the head and sigh. 

"Eventually," you agree. 

His cock rubs up against you as he leans down and pinches your chin between his fingers, lips parted from a sharp gasp and opening further. "Can I fuck you? Is that what you want?" 

You nod voraciously. 

He gives you a very firm kiss at the highest point of your cheek. "In words." 

"Yes, you can fuck me. That's what I want," you say without hesitation. 

"You tell me if I do something you don't like," he says, lining up. 

"I will," you say earnestly. 

Eddie pushes your leg up towards your tummy and holds it there. "Good girl," he praises, and pushes in.

You're already worked open by his hand, your own hand and your climax, and still it's a snug fit. You cross your arm over your chest with your lips bitten hard to stop from making what you anticipate to be a very great and mortifying sound. He takes it slow, real slow, towering over you with his brows furrowed just slightly and his back arching. Every move he makes is accompanied by a careful thrust of his hips. He's rhythm in motion. 

"Fuck," he mutters, more than once. He's halfway when you feel that stretch, your pulpy walls accommodating him with little complaint and a lot of pleasure. 

You drop your head back against the bed sheets and hug yourself. 

Eddie reaches for your hand where its cracking your breast absentmindedly and squeezes your fingers. "How's that?" he asks. "How's that feel?" 

You close your eyes. "S'good, Eddie." You lay out your own roll of expletives as he pushes in ever deeper. "You're really- oh," you gasp, "really deep." 

"You should see it, babe, pretty pussy gripping my every fucking inch." He leans down and his cock fills another inch of you. Your fingers ache with how hard he's squeezing them, and you look up to find his eyes on yours. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? You gonna be a good girl for me and take it?" 

You blink and your lashes feel heavy with tears. "Yeah. I can take it. I can take it." 

"I know," he says, hovering over you, close enough to hug if you wanted to. 

He grabs your side and his thumb pushes into the soft swell of your breast, his grip tightening as he fits those last inches of his cock inside you. You rub your cheek against his bedsheets, your head fuzzy from being so full. He takes your bared neck as an opportunity and ducks into the juncture of it and his face fits there like it was made to, his nose bobbing against the column of your throat as he starts to fuck into you. His hips roll, a mess of his sticky pubes kissing your clit. 

This close you can smell him, the heavy scents of pot and smoke, the sweet nutty smell of oil clinging to his hair. Sweat, as you imagine you smell of too, and sex. The room is filled with it, the smells and the sounds of his thighs thudding into yours. 

"Eddie- Eddie," you whimper, muffled by the sheets beneath you. 

He pushes in deep and rubs his nose into your skin emphatically. "What's wrong, hm? What's got you all wound up?" 

You wrap your arms around his back. You're not sure if you're allowed to but you're hardly thinking ahead – you can't. Every thrust, every movement he makes is at the forefront of your mind, commanding all of your attention. The tickling of his hair against the side of your face. The skipping of the chains of his necklace where it teases your neck. 

"Babe?" he asks, pulling back to turn your head. He stills inside you. 

You protest, loud and completely unlike yourself. "Eddie, don't stop. Please don't." Your hands push into his shoulder blades. He ruts in at your request, thumb rubbing your cheek. "Feels so good," you say. You trip over your praise, voice breaking. 

He starts up again, whispering, "Do you want me to hold your leg up, pretty girl?" and, "Taking me so well- taking it so fucking well," and, worse, "Fuck, sweetheart, just like that," when you tigthen around him. 

You weave your fingers into the messy crush of black curls surrounding his face, careful not to tug as you covet the back of his head and nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly with one hand as the other strokes his side. 

Your moans become a half-sobbing sort of mess, quiet and desperate, drawn out of you with every tap of his cock into your soft spot. When he finds it he can't not search for it, rutting into it over and over until you can't produce anything but an unintelligible stream of babble and happy sighs. 

He laps lazily at your neck, the stretch of skin dampened and stinging from love bites. He thrusts in hard and hits something sweet that has you clinging to him. 

"You smell good," he says into your skin.

Your hips ache with pleasure. "I must taste pretty good," you say. What, with how he's willing to nibble on you like this. 

He squeezes your neck and narrows his eyes at you playfully. "I intend to find out." He moves down until your lips are a hair's width from touching. "Bet you taste as sweet as everything else."

You lift your chin and kiss him, dedicating your affections to his top lip. He groans into your mouth, hips moving slow and thrusts shallow when suddenly they're not. His cock drags out slowly and slams in deep, his pelvis hitting into yours. 

You keen into the kiss, gentle and at odds with his fucking. His fingers find your ear and his thumb follows down the shell until he's pinching your earlobe, a split-second touch that melts you into putty. He pulls away from the kiss and inhales loudly, his fingers under your ear and pushing your face to the side so that he can wade in from a new angle.

You curl your fingers around his wrist and let yourself be kissed and fucked and touched. Anything he wants to do, he can do. 

Eddie breaks the kiss.

"What did I taste like?" you ask breathlessly. 

He traces an invisible teardrop down your cheek with the back of his pinky finger. "Oh, sweetheart," he says quietly, lowering his lips to the shell of your ear. "That's not where I meant." 

Another hard thrust. You gasp at the dull aching spreading through your tummy and Eddie softens slightly, not so deep but just as fast, faster, his cheek to your cheek as he works you open. His rugged panting in your ear is everything you need. You force your hand between your body and Eddie's and search for the wet mess of your clit, chasing quick circles into the swollen bump. 

Eddie realises what's happening and his fucking turns desperate. "You gonna cum again? Shit- keep touching, I'll get you there, fucking promise you." He's hardly pulling out an inch before he's rutting back in, kicking up the speed until all you can feel is pleasure again. 

Eddie slows down as you cum, moaning as you tighten around him. He pushes away from you to kneel between your legs again, eyes locking onto your cunt obstinately, his panting loud as he drags his cock in and out. 

"Insane," he mumbles, hands coasting down your legs until he's grasping the fat of your thighs and pulling you back onto his cock. "You're insane." 

As if proving it, his hands rove the hills and troughs of your torso, your skin clammy underhand, his hips moving mindlessly. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and blink back into focus. 

"Are you close?" you ask him, whispering. 

You're lucky he can hear you with the music he's playing and the sounds of your slick hole being stretched. Eddie tucks a lock of sweat-dark hair behind his ear and his eyes pause in their reverential searching to meet yours. 

He peels your hand off of your mouth and holds it. 

"Fucking teetering, babe. Been close ever since I felt you wrapped around my fingers." He pulls your hand and you take it as a cue to try and sit up. Eddie helps you into his lap, your thighs straddling his thighs, slipping down his length until you're stuffed to bursting. 

You hide your face in his shoulder and he rubs your back. "You're okay," he says sympathetically, "I got you. You just sit pretty, there's a good girl." 

You wrap your arms around his neck and try your best to bounce on his cock as he thrust up into you, a steady pace that turns sloppy. You rake your hands through his curls and kiss at the curve of his neck down to the slope of his shoulder, dizzied and cock-drunk, totally fucked out. You hum into your kisses with every prodding of his mushroom tip against your deepest spot, rambling nonsense at him in a way you hope is making a difference. 

"Fucking me so good," you mumble, equal parts tearful and euphoric, lips wet and spreading a shine like frost in the sun over his lean shoulder. "So good, Eddie. Thought about this too much." 

"Yeah?" he asks, sounding like a different person. Voice rough as hewn stone and hands bruising where they grip you, his heavy sack slapping into you with every sluggish rock of his hips. "Good as you pictured? M'I fucking you like you wanted?" 

"Better," you say sincerely. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," he says, and he's close, you know he is.

You roll your pelvis in circles and try your hardest, aflame as you plead, "Cum for me, please? Please, Eddie, wanna feel it." 

Despite your shy intonation Eddie goes rigid. He fucks in with one final thrust that sends shocks deep to your core and spreading out, cutting your happy little gasp short as he pulls your head tight to his neck. His hips twitch underneath you and he's making sounds that are going to haunt you, whiney, begging moans over your head. 

Eddie's tight hold on you slowly loosens. You're breathing fast, finally out of motion. Your thighs burn where they're spread over his lap and you squirm unintentionally. 

He pulls your neck back from his shoulder and looks over your face, concern lining the soft set of his eyes. He cups your cheek in question. 

"I'm okay," you say softly. "I'm more than okay. That was amazing." 

"It was amazing," he agrees, caught off guard.

"Yeah." 

You shift backwards and the two of you wince at the sensitivity. You ease your legs open and Eddie pulls out, pumping the sticky shaft once. His eyes flutter closed. 

You move off of his lap and turn to the side so you can stretch out your aching legs. Eddie follows suit, collapsing off of his knees and onto his back, the pillow behind him keeping him propped up. 

You watch him ease the condom off of his cock curiously, White cum has smeared and drips down the length of him, his pubes tangled by a mixture of your slick and his. 

He spots you watching and smiles. "What, sweetness? What are you thinking about?"

"I made you cum." 

His eyebrows jump but quickly smooth. "I think I went blind, for a second." 

You giggle at his hyperbole and he pulls you down against his chest, your side pressing into his navel. Your cheek to the space shy of his heart. 

His hand comes to rest on your forehead. 

"Do you really think about me?" you ask, knowing the answer. 

"Every night." 

You close your eyes and hide your smile in his skin. He chuckles and wraps you up in one arm, his hand a firm pressure as he massage the dipped plane of your back. 

Nestling your cheek into his chest, you say, "I think about it, too. All the time." 

"Uh-huh. Maybe we can make some more of those racy thoughts a reality. What was that one about me coming out of the shower?" 

You like this casual conversation and decide to try and make him laugh, stretching your words out low. "Well, you're coming out of the shower, and your towel slips open-" There, his bumping laughter at your over the top salaciousness. 

"That's awful. Most cliche, overdone, cheap porno concept ever," he chastens. 

"I never said I was creative." 

"What happens after that?" 

"The towel gets swept away by a sudden gust of wind, so I have to cover you. With my body." 

He bursts. There's no other word to describe it, his back arches with the force of his laughter and he holds his fist to his mouth, shaking and giggling like an idiot. 

"Where's the wind coming from?" he questions incredulously. 

"I don't know! The window?" 

"Oh my god," he says. He hooks his hand under your arm and pulls you up his chest, dotting a fond kiss to your forehead as you near. "And after that?" 

"Well, I told you that part." 

"Right, we hook up, but after that." 

You clench your fists, insecure. "After?" 

He brings the hand that isn't loving the length of your back to your face, stroking the skin under your chin with the backs of his index and middle finger, the flat of his fingernails sliding gently in a soothing back and forth. 

"I guess it's kind of like this," you answer eventually. 

"Does fantasy Eddie get another kiss, too? Or does he- do they stop, afterwards?" 

"It's a fantasy. The kisses never stop," you tell him. Adrenaline must linger in your veins; you can barely speak.

His expression becomes impassive, and a lull in the conversation blossoms. He searches your face for something and you don't know what, but he must find it, because he dips down and kisses you chaste on the lips. 

Your hands are back to tentative as they explore his neck. Your fingertips grace the curves of his throat and then sink behind, into the dampened mess of his hair. 

He stays chaste, dainty kisses, pulling back to dot them against your lips over and over. 

"Eddie," you say softly, "what are you doing?" 

"It feels like kissing," he says, tone a mirror of your own. 

You huff a laugh against his lips and kiss back. 

Later, after more kisses than you could ever count and an hour dozing on his chest whilst his hand rubbed circles into your tired back, you get dressed into your clothes that he likes so much and slip your goodie bag into the belly of your strappy purse. 

"Don't go over the top with it, alright?" he says, watching the green bud dissappear.

Jeans back in place and still bare-chested, Eddie sits on the end of his bed and scratches the back of his neck. You give him a grateful smile. "No, I won't. I actually think I might sleep really well tonight without it." 

He smirks. "I bet you will." 

Eddie walks with you to the front porch. You'd linger if you didn't have to go, and you're pretty sure he'd let you. There's a fraction of awkward silence.

"See you later," you say, walking sideways down one step, another. 

Eddie catches your hand. It takes you a second to realise what he's done: forced your crumpled thirty dollars back into your hand. Your heart misses a beat and you feel your stomach plumet – you hadn't fucked him for the free pot. 

"Eddie-" 

"My girl can't pay for her own supply. That's not happening." 

You take one step up. "Your girl?" 

He has the good graces to look nervous. "If you wanna be." 

You don't know how to answer. He looks pretty like this in the last dregs of sunshine, big brown eyes waiting patiently for you to say something, hand clutching his elbow. It doesn't feel entirely real. 

You step on tip toes and work your hands behind his neck to kiss his cheek before rubbing your forehead against his chin. "I'll come by tomorrow?" you ask hopefully. He relaxes under your weight.

"Any time you want. I'll take you some place nice, if you're up for it." 

You set back on your heels and pull away. "You don't need to go all fancy on me, Munson." You're happy to get stoned and eat burgers on the couch.

He looks you up and down, eyes catching on the flanks of your thighs before he takes in your face. His smile is almost dorky when he says, "No I- I think I do. I'll see you tomorrow, pretty girl." 

You nod with an aching smile and are a little ways away when he smugly calls, "Sleep well!" 

After the lesson he just gave you, you're sure you will. 

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[hanjsquokka]

MILF Next Door - [ Han Jisung ]

🐿 SYNOPSIS : Jisung gets a new neighbor and he's completely head over heels. Love at first sight — in his opinion. And he's not going to let an adorable three year old get in the way of true love.

GENRE : strangers to potential lovers, light fluff, smut

PAIRING : neighbor! jisung × fem! single mom reader

CONTENT WARNING : perv! jisung, jisung is a simp and he's horny, mature language, mentions divorce (not between jisung and reader), single parenting, (smut warnings under the cut)

WORD COUNT : 4.5K

AUTHOR'S NOTE : this is just trash tbh but here we go

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content

SMUT WARNING : sub leaning jisung, slightly dom reader, oral (m receiving), riding, nicknames (good boy, baby, etc.), jisung has thing for moms, orgasm denial, piv, unprotected sex (pls don't do this)

Jisung was curious — to say the least. He was working on producing a song for his friend Changbin (honestly one of the best rappers Jisung had ever met) when he heard loud thumps from the corridor outside and the apartment next door. He heard a lot of shuffling — thanks to the wonderfully thin walls, and it was safe to say that he had gotten a new neighbor. He'd been trying to get a peek at them, in a completely friendly way obviously, but they seemed really private or they went out a lot. He was just about to assume that it was probably another working adult when one day, he was on the balcony in the morning for some fresh air. He'd been working the whole night and desperately needed to inhale something that wasn't carbon dioxide.

Which was when he spotted... you. You were putting some pots in your balcony, maybe for a few plants. Who was this beauty and why have I never seen her before? You looked pretty. Far too pretty for Jisung to stop staring at you like a literal creep. Thankfully the microwave started beeping loudly, so he had to go back inside and save his re-heated dinner from going cold. When he went back out again, you were gone. All that was left, were a few empty pots and packets of seeds.

I have to see her again.

Jisung not to secretly tried to get another look at his new neighbor, trying to determine when you would go out so he could casually bump into you and say hi. It was highly unlikely you were still single — who would not fall for a pretty girl like that? But he had to try.

After a week, he gave up. Maybe you just wanted to be left alone. He was returning home late one day, tired from his long day at the recording studio with Changbin who was not satisfied even after twenty retakes of the same verse. He was so tired, his vision was blurry and he bumped his foot loudly against the door. "Shit!" He cursed, wincing as he tried to step back. He was just about done with everything when the door next door opened, revealing the insanely pretty girl with concern masking your features. You were wearing pajamas, some part of his brain noted, pajamas with squirrels on them. Why did that make make him feel things?

Great going Jisung. Amazing first impression.

"Sorry, I heard some loud noises — are you okay?" You asked. You pushed away the hair covering your eyes. He took in more of your features. Your wispy bangs, your almost black eyes, your nose, the pink in your cheeks and your lips. Oh god. He could feel all sorts of wild thoughts running through his mind. Most of which were not child friendly.

Jisung couldn't look away. "Yeah. Yeah I'm good. Thank you." He said, mustering a smile to match the one forming on your face. I'm doomed. "You're new... right? I'm Jisung. Han Jisung." Nice save dork.

"Y/n. I've been meaning to introduce myself. I've just been busy and —"

You never had time to finish your sentence because a kid appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and clinging onto your leg. What the — "Mama..."

"Sorry baby, did I wake you up?" You asked softly, picking up the kid in your arms. Jisung's heart was plummeting. No way. No fucking way — "I was just saying to the nice man next door. Say hi." The little boy waved cutely.

Jisung returned the gesture, too stunned to speak. "Is he your...."

"Huh? Yeah —" Your face broke into another huge grin. "This is my son, Sunghwan." The sleepy kid perked up at the mention of his name before starting to doze off again on your shoulder. "I should put him back to sleep. It was nice meeting you Jisung." You bowed and went back inside your house, closing the door behind her, leaving Jisung in a state of utter shock and confusion.

The pretty (sexy) girl next door was not only taken, but you were married and had a kid. Why did the universe like toying with his heart so much? Jisung went inside his own house, closing the door with a grumpy face. He really got too ahead of himself, didn't he?

A few days later, he ran into the pretty married girl with an adorable kid at the supermarket. Well — he ran into your adorable kid first. Jisung was piling up on snacks since he needed the sugar, when he spotted a small child trying to hold onto candy bars and grab more from the shelves. Upon getting a closer look, he noticed it was the kid from next door! He couldn't just leave the little boy, now could he? Not when he knew him. He had to take responsibility as a neighbor and a decent dude to bring him back to his mom.

So he approached the kid. "Hey little guy, where's your mom?" He asked, crouching down to his height. He really was cute (just like his mom).

"She buying vegetables. Bleh." The kid made a disgusted face, making Jisung laugh.

"You don't like vegetables?"

"No. They gross. I like candy!" He said excitedly, holding up the goodies that he piled in his small hands.

"Okay then, what about your dad?"

"Dada sees me every Fri-day.” He said carefully. “Only Mama here.” He looked around in confusion. “Mama?”

Jisung was still caught on the sentence about his dad. He sees him every Friday? That sounded a lot like… those child custody things he saw on TV. "Okay little guy, let's go find your mom first. She must be worried." He held out his hand. "My name is Jisung." He offered a smile.

"Ji-sung?" The kid held onto his hand. Jisung began leading them down the aisles. "I'm Sung-hwan! Sunghwan!" He said with a giggle. Aw man he's so cute.

"Sunghwan huh? That's a nice name." Jisung noted as he looked around for you. He soon found you near the cereals, looking worried. "Aha, we found her!" He took a very long glance at your figure and had a few seconds to fantasize over her long legs before Sunghwan shouted.

"Mama!"

You snapped your head in their direction, relief washing over your face as you knelt down so the kid could run into your arms. "Sunghwan! How many times have I told you to not run off like that!" You chided, but you held onto him tightly. You stood up, your gaze meeting Jisung's. A smile formed on your face. "Jisung, right? I can't thank you enough! I looked away for two seconds and he was gone and—"

"It's alright." Jisung brushed it off, but his heart was going crazy inside his chest. She's smiling at me and she's talking to me! "I found him in the candy aisle. Little man has taste."

You looked at kid, who had an innocent look on his face. You shook your head. "I should've known. But anyways, thank you." You held Jisung's hand to shake it. Holy moly.

"It's okay. Really." He said, a huge smile on his face. "Do you need some help?" He asked, looking at the shopping cart that was full of groceries.

"No, no, it's okay —"

"No, I could help, seriously. You look like you have a lot on your hands already." Jisung said, looking at the kid was trying to pick up a box of cereal from the shopping cart. "I live next door, it really isn't an issue.”

“Honestly, that would be really helpful.”.

"No worries." Jisung said casually.

Which was how he found himself in the apartment next door, setting down the bags of groceries in the kitchen. The house was neat — except there were toys everywhere. Sunghwan was way more than thrilled to show Jisung each and every one of them. He even began narrating the story of why his Mickey Mouse stuffed toy had a bandage (bad encounter with a dog at the park) which made Jisung laugh. He would've loved to spend the whole day there, if he didn't get a call from Changbin.

"Oh, that's work. I gotta go." He said, standing up.

"Thank you again, Jisung." You said, coming out of the kitchen.

"I told you, it's okay." He chuckled. "I like helping people out."

"Jisungie, you have to come back and play with me, okay?" Sunghwan had gotten up from his place and was now holding onto the fabric of his jeans. It was adorable. "I no show my Legos." He pouted. This kid was pulling at his heartstrings.

"I mean, if it's okay with your mom…” He tried off, meeting your eyes. Please say yes.

"Of course you can." You nodded with another one of those bright smiles.

"Yay!" Sunghwan jumped around.

"Say bye, Sung." You told the kid, who waved brightly.

"Bye Sunghwan. And you too Y/n. You can call me if you ever need anything." Jisung told you, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you guys later." He saw himself out and back to his own house. That kid was the ticket to get close to you. You're single (as far as he understood), which means he was doing no wrong. Besides, moms are super sexy (she was an absolute milf). God, he was getting too excited. He grabbed his things and headed to the recording studio.

Safe to say the Jisung was absolutely fucked. He was goner the day he saw you dressed up in a dress that was too short for his mental wellbeing. It was supposed to be a normal day. He started babysitting Sunghwan quite often because you had job interviews packed for the whole week. Since he loved you oh so much, the second he swung open to the door to meet your nervous face, asking him if he could watch Sunghwan for a while.

Truth be told — Jisung didn't exactly hear what you said. He'd known you for a month and he was already down so so bad. He only saw your pretty lips moving, the way you fiddled with your fingers as you tried to explain it to him. But Jisung. Oh god. He just stared at you like a lovesick fool and immediately nodded to save his ass when you finished speaking.

Which was how he found himself in his apartment the next day with Sunghwan and his Legos spread out across the living room. Jisung had to work on this track for Changbin and he also had to watch the kid so he decided to multitask. I mean, how hard could it be to take care of a three year old?

Jisung found out his answer within five minutes when said three year old completely trashed his house with Legos. He couldn't walk two feet without stepping on one of the bricks, making him bite his lip in pain so he wouldn't let out a yelp.

“I'm just going to let myself in!” The second day of baby-sitting, Changbin just appeared in his apartment for no reason. This was probably the worst possible situation is overly loud friend could've walked into. Jisung could practically see his face morph into confusion, his eyes widening and his jaw dropped. “Since when do you have a kid?” He asked loudly. Even a deaf person could hear him at this point. “When did you get laid bro? You've been bitchless —”

“Okay!” Jisung cut him off, covering Sunghwan's ears. “Let's not use colorful language when there is a child present.” Only after Changbin muttered a half-hearted sorry did Jisung uncover the kid's ears. “He's my neighbor's kid —”

“You knocked up your neighbor?—”

“Will you please shut the fuc — shut up please?” Jisung took a deep breath. “I'm baby-sitting. His mom has job interviews and she asked for help and I couldn't say no. The kid's too cute.” He shrugged. Just thinking about you made a small blush creep up on his face, his ears turning red. He's never been down so bad for a person before like this.

“Holy shit —” Changbin completely ignored the don't curse there's a fucking child in front of you warning. “You like his mom.” He mouthed the last two words. Guess he didn't trade all of his brain cells for those muscles. “I should've known you actually had a thing for older woman when you brought up —”

“Enough of my embarrassing past and just get on with why you're here.” Jisung was not going to relive his teenage embarrassments. He'd done some things he's not so proud of and Changbin took every chance to make sure he never forgot them.

His friend left a while later. You texted saying that you would be home in a few. He took Sunghwan back to your house after cleaning up all the toys in his. All was well.

But everything turned topsy-turvy the second he saw you entering the house with that purple dress you wore for your job interview. It stopped just where Jisung's imagination started to wander down the gutter. It hugged your curves perfectly and accentuated your boobs so well that it made him dizzy.

"How'd it go?" He asked you once you sat down on the couch near him, playing Legos with Sunghwan, who was absorbed in his kids show playing on the TV. Jisung was sitting on the floor, so your bare knees were brushing against his shoulder, creating waves of tingles over him.

"It went pretty well." You answered, moving those magenta stained lips of yours. I wonder what it would feel like wrapped around my cock. Jisung had to mentally slap himself. Whatever sexual attraction he had to you was not disappearing in anyway — if anything, it increased every second he spent in your presence. For some reason, everything you did turned him on. The past few weeks ended in cold showers every day to calm himself down. "You're spacing out. Have something on your mind?"

Yeah, you. "Nah, I was just thinking about this song I was working on for my friend." Nice save. "The beat isn't perfect, you know? I've been tweaking it for days, maybe I should just let it be."

He saw you put your hand on your chin to think. "Well, I don't know much about music but maybe you need a fresh perspective? I think I read that somewhere. Something about not working on it for a while...."

"That... makes sense." He nodded slowly. "Maybe I just need some fresh air, you know?"

Sunghwan perked up at that. He jumped onto Jisung, a big, goofy smile on his face. Jisung found himself seeing you in the kid. His smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he was happy — he was almost exactly like you.

"Jisungie! Park!" He exclaimed with a giggle. "Let's go to park!"

"A park? Now? Maybe tomorrow bud, your mom's probably tired."

"Yeah Sung, we'll go tomorrow. I promise." You ruffled the kid's hair.

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise." You repeated with a laugh. Sunghwan went back to playing with his Legos. "By the way Jisung, if you're free on Friday, you wanna go watch a movie?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah I'd be down." He nodded absent-mindedly, watching the boy run around the room with a Lego car.

"Great." You gave him another one of those smiles before walking to her bedroom. Jisung's eyes were on your ass as you disappeared from the corridor. Wait a minute. Sunghwan will be with his dad on Friday, right? Did you just... ask him out?

"What did mommy say?" Sunghwan asked Jisung.

"Mommies are confusing." He said. "But sexy."

"Sixy?" The kid repeated.

"No — no not sixy! Uh, uh —" Jisung panicked. "Hey, I found this Lego set on Amazon and I thought you'd like it." He quickly whipped out his phone to show him to take his mind off of what he said. God forbid you found that he was talking about how you looked in front of your own kid.

That night after going back to his apartment, he laid in bed, his cock in his hands as he stroked himself to the thought of you. Unconsciously moaning your name loudly (maybe a bit too loud) as he imagined you there, jerking him off with your soft hands and that fuckable face with your big eyes, your lips wrapped around him as you took him in whole — yeah, he came pretty hard after that.

Friday took way longer than Jisung wanted. He was antsy the entire morning in the studio, leg bouncing as he sat on the chair while Changbin recorded in the booth. He was so out of it, he didn't hear his friend calling him thrice from outside the little room until Changbin smacked the back of his head which momentarily brought Jisung out of his dreamland.

How could he focus? When he was just a few hours away from spending an evening with you? Only you? He loved Sunghwan, don't get him wrong but going to a movie together and getting dinner afterwards and maybe — just maybe Jisung could spit out the words he'd been holding hostage inside his mouth ever since he first laid eyes on you. Dear Y/n, I've liked you since the second I saw you in your balcony and I was hoping you could rail me —

The second he got home, he took a shower, brushed his teeth again, and spent twenty minutes trying to decide what he should wear. A suit was too over the top and a normal t-shirt and jeans would look like he didn't care. He had to look cool but interested. In the end he opted for a plain black shirt over his loose jeans. He styled his dark hair with a part in the middle and sprayed some cologne on.

Two mental breakdowns later, he was standing in front of the movie theater where you told him you'd meet him. He tried to act all nonchalant but he was slowly losing his mind as he stood there like a loser (it was for ten minutes).

When you finally arrived, he swore his heart stopped beating for a good few seconds as his eyes raked over your little top that dipped low in the front. Did you do it on purpose? Did you know the way his heart started to a marathon every time he looked at you? How the fuck was he supposed to pay attention to a movie when you were dressed like that?

“Sorry I'm late. Dropping Sunghwan off took a little longer than expected.” You adjusted the strap of your handbag which was resting on your shoulder.

“I just got here too. It's okay.” Jisung played it off coolly. It was all worth seeing that smile on your face. He took a moment to mentally note that he also liked the subtle pink lipstick you wore today, but his favorite had to be that magenta color. Just imagining himself stained in your kisses — his face, his chest, his d —

Han Jisung almost publicly humiliated himself for the nth time this month.

The movie was fine. It was some romcom that you liked. His attention was more on you. Your reactions to everything, the way your eyes sparkled as you pointed to the screen, the way your eyes turned into crescents as you laughed at whatever corny ass jokes Jisung made that weren't even that funny.

Dinner… Dinner was far more difficult. He could barely pay any attention to what you were saying. He was more focused on your fingers and your freshly painted magenta nails. Magenta was going to be his fucking end. He could barely keep himself from imagining how good those freshly manicured hands would look wrapped around his cock. Oh god, he was getting hard again. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when you said, “You want to go home?”

“Huh?”

“You look tired. And I'm probably boring you —”

“No, no — never.” Jisung shook his head.

“Then what's wrong Jisung?”

Fuck it, he couldn't take it anymore. “I like you Y/n.” Silence. The silence after that was killing him. He swallowed hard and took a big gulp of water as his face turned redder than red.

“Well I know that. Why do you think I invited you out on a date?”

Every time Jisung believed he couldn't be more surprised, you just had to go and prove him wrong. “What?” He breathed out.

“I know you like me. You're not very secretive about it.” You chuckled, twisted the pasta in your plate onto your fork. “I like you a lot too.” What the actual fuck? “I never thought I'd like someone so fast after… everything. But you proved me wrong.” You shrugged. “But my real question is… do you jerk off to me every night?”

That's it. Jisung knew the thin walls of his apartment would come back to bite him someday in the future. He was betrayed by his own house. He was absolutely mortified you heard him fisting himself to you. He turned impossibly more red. He could barely stutter out a response but he stopped when he saw that teasing smile on your face.

“It's a good thing I feel the same way.”

The cab ride home was torture. Not only did you like him. But you wanted to fuck him too? And it definitely did not help whatsoever that you hand rested on his thigh and slowly inched upward, agonizingly slow towards the obvious tent in his pants. His dick was so hard it hurt in the confines of his pants. He bit down on his lip so hard when you brushed over his bones and then started to palm him through the fabric. Oh fucking hell… You were teasing him. He could see that smirk on your face as he almost whined when you pulled away because the cab stopped.

The second you stepped foot in his apartment, he pushed you against the wall next to the door and smashed his lips against yours. Hungry and needy. He pressed his body against yours, pulling you along to his bedroom (how he got there, he had no clue). His hands were everywhere. Touching and caressing every part of you. Your hair, your waist, your ass — it was heaven. You threaded your fingers through his fingers, lightly tugging at the strands. It was enough to elicit a soft moan from him, muffled by the kiss.

“Tell me Jisung…” You said quietly as you pulled away from him. “What did you imagine about me?” You pushed him onto the bed and as you got on your knees. He lifted his hips as you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, releasing his dick. It was red and stained with precum and so hard.

But you didn't do anything. “Please.” He whimpered. “Do something.” You smiled at him deviously before beginning to stroke him at a slow pace. Too slow. “F-Fuck.” He threw his head back with a groan. You were barely doing anything and he was so far gone. You carefully took him into your mouth, inch by inch. Your mouth was warm, your plush lips wrapped around his cock was making him lose his mind. He wanted to grab your hair and fuck your throat but he couldn't move his body. It was like he was frozen, only able to buck his hips into your mouth for some kind of friction. You finally — finally started bobbing your head up and down, the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat each time. “S-Shit. Fuck. Don't stop.” You went faster after that, fondling with his balls. Your tongue swirling around the tip and your hands on his balls, he could feel that band in his belly about to snap. “Fuck. Fuck I'm gonna —” Before he could reach that sweet release, you pulled away with a pop, innocent eyes staring up at him. He let out a loud groan at that. “W-Why —”

He stopped himself when you stood up and took off your pants and panties and crawled onto his lap, sinking onto him slowly. A soft moan escaped both your mouths when his dick was completely inside you. “Fuck you're big.” You whimpered, trying to adjust to his size. It gave him a bit of an ego boost. You started to bounce on him, letting out the most sinful moans Jisung ever heard in his entire life. “Perfect little dick. Filling me up so well.” You groaned. His dick twitched. Your walls were sucking him in, milking him. It was too much. He was already on edge from his denied orgasm, but the way you were talking to him? Fuck. He wasn't going to last.

“S-So tight.” He whimpered. “F-Fuck. Feels good.”

“Feels good baby?” You asked. He nodded frantically. “Are you gonna cum?” He nodded again. “Hold it for a bit. Only good boys get to cum. Have you been a good boy?”

“Y-Yes, fuck —” He squeezed his eyes shut as your walls clenched around him. “Oh fuck —” Jisung was determined to save the last of his dignity (not like he had much in the first place) and tried to get you off too. He met your thrusts half way, his dick repeatedly brushing against that spongy spot deep inside you.

“Right there.” Your nails dug into his skin but he didn't give two shits. “‘M so close.”

“Let me make you cum too.” He kissed your chest, your breasts and wrapped his lips around your hardened buds, alternating between the two of them. From the fucked out expression on your face and the way he was two seconds from filling you with his seed, he two took of his fingers and found your clit in no time, rubbing harsh circles on the sensitive numb making you cry out as your orgasm washed over you. Jisung came a moment later, his body spasming as he came down from his high.

“Fuck, that was amazing.” You panted, your head laying on his shoulder. Jisung could barely even nod in reply. His dick was still inside you as your juices and his pooled onto his thighs and onto his sheets. It was a mistake to look at where your swollen pussy lips swallowed him whole and he could feel himself getting hard again.

Yeah. He definitely had a thing for mommies.

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

#han jisung #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz fluff #han jisung imagines #han x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung x reader #han jisung hard hours #han jisung smut #han jisung x y/n #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz smut #( 🎤 ⸻ my works / han jisung )

[hairmetal666]

Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd be standing in the drama club room in front of Eddie the Freak--who's sitting on a goddamn throne with his full lips pulled into a smug grin--asking to be taught how to play Dorks and Goblins. Yet, here he is, face a burning shade of crimson, as he explains for the sixth time what, exactly, he needs.

"Munson, it's not that hard. Henderson wants me to play in the--the game thingy they're doing when Will is home for a visit."

"Yeah, Harrington, and I stop listening every time you call it a game thingy. You obviously don't care about this at all, so why should I waste my time helping you?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "What if I pay you?"

Munson's face goes through a complicated series of changes before falling into a neutral mask, no smirk or teasing smile to be found. "You'll pay me to teach you dnd? Are you fucking kidding?"

"No?' Steve draws a hand through his hair, watches as Munson's dark eyes track the movement. "I thought you might help me out cause those kids never shut-up about you, but I'm willing to put money on it."

"Huh," Eddie says. He steeples his fingers under his chin. "Maybe I misjudged you, Harrington."

Steve lets himself smile at this. "I don't think you did. I don't give a shit about this game."

"Didn't take you for one to have a bunch of nerdy child friends."

"I'm their babysitter," he says, realizes immediately it was a mistake.

Eddie cackles until it turns into a full-bodied laugh, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "You are something else, Harrington," he manages.

For his part, Steve hopes Munson hasn't noticed how bright red his face is. "Does that mean you'll help me?"

"I guess," he rolls his eyes. "But if you're just screwing around, I'm out."

"No, yeah, totally," Steve nods too hard, sends his hair cascading into his face. "Sounds good. How much?"

"Huh?" Eddie tilts his face up, giving Steve a perfect view of the smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.

"I said I'd pay you. What's the going rate for dnd lessons?"

"Oh, nah, free of charge, Harrington. Henderson would eat me alive if he knew I made you pay."

The smile they share is soft, tentative, and Steve doesn't notice the swathes of pink decorating Eddie's pale cheekbones.

---

They meet up in the drama room after the last bell. Eddie is waiting on the throne with his feet propped on the table, sipping a Mt. Dew. His eyes widen when Steve walks into the room.

"You're on time," he says.

Steve scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Eddie shrugs, sets his feet on the floor. "Just wasn't aware that the King put a lot of stock in punctuality."

"C'mon, man, I'm trying not to be that guy, and I'm definitely not king of anything. Unless maybe it's Family Video, but even then, that's Robin."

"You're kind of weird, Harrington, you know that?" Eddie's dimples bracket his smile. The sight does weird things in Steve's chest.

"I've been told, yeah." Steve smiles back. "Where do we start?"

They start with dice, with a character sheet.

"Chaotic-good human Paladin?" Eddie asks.

He shrugs. "That's what Dustin keeps screaming at me. I got no idea what any of it means."

"That's not entirely true," Eddie says. "You've kept up with me so far."

"Yeah, that's you. Dustin rambles and then accuses me of not listening when it's over my head. When he goes on long enough, I start to get a headache right here," Steve rubs the spot between his eyes.

"That kid," Eddie says with the right combination of affection and frustration. "I don't know, you seem to have picked up on some of the stuff he said. You have a solid idea on gameplay, at least. I'd say you're doing pretty good."

"Thanks," Steve laughs. "No migraine yet, so that's a point in your favor."

"Migraines?"

"Head trauma."

"Byers?"

"And Hargrove."

"That was Hargrove?" Eddie asks.

"Hit me in the head with a plate."

"What the fuck."

"He was pissed that Max was friends with Lucas. He came after them. I couldn't just let him--I think he would've killed Lucas."

Eddie nods, hands fiddling with a die. "No wonder those kids love you," he says.

"We've been through some shit together."

"Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to learn dnd."

"As much as it pains me to admit," Steve rolls his eyes. "I love to make those little shitheads happy."

"Well, based on the way they talk about you, you succeed."

"You too, you know?" Steve offers. "All I've heard about the last three months is 'Eddie's so cool,' 'Hellfire's so fun.'"

"Jealous?" Eddie laughs.

"Completely," Steve admits.

"Don't worry, Harrington, I'll make a nerd out of you yet."

---

They meetup after school every day they can over the next two weeks. At first, Steve is surprised that he doesn't really mind spending so much time with Munson, that he actually, kind of, has fun. And the more time they spend together, the more Eddie infiltrates his space. Leans into Steve's side as they sit next to each other, brushes their hands together, hovers over his shoulder, faces nearly touching, as he checks stuff on Steve's character sheet.

It makes Steve feel--well, it makes him think of what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft gloss of Eddie's curls; wonders what that plump mouth would be like pressed against his own; can't stop thinking about if Eddie is as vocal in bed as he is everywhere else. He knows he also likes guys, has for a while, but he's never in his life wanted someone this viscerally; so much he can feel the ache of it in his teeth.

It's the last day before the campaign for Will, and Steve is fucking sad. He thinks maybe Eddie is too. He's at least quieter than normal, explanations not at their usual fever pitch. An hour before they usually call it quits, he claps his hands together (too gently, too unlike himself), says, "That's it, Harrington. You're not going to be more ready than this."

"Right," Steve says. Can't help his eyes from darting over Eddie's face, aching to know what he's thinking. "You'll be there tomorrow?"

Eddie bends his head over his notebooks. "Nah, I don't need to intrude."

"But--"

"It's okay, Stevie. I get that it's family only." He looks like he really means it, but his eyes are sad, don't shine like they should.

Steve doesn't know what to say to that, just nods, and then there's nothing else. They stare at each other for a few very long, quiet seconds, before Eddie says, "I'll see you around, Harrington."

"Right, yeah. You too." And he walks out of the drama room with the heaviest heart he thinks he's ever had.

---

Steve thinks he won't miss Eddie. That if he doesn't dwell on those hours spent with Eddie, learning dnd, that the missing will go away.

It doesn't.

Which is how he finds himself back at the high school on Wednesday, standing in front of the drama room door, willing himself to go inside. Eddie's on the throne, the typical notebooks and binders and Mt. Dew cans clustered around him, but he's not engrossed in imagining up a new campaign for Hellfire. No, his head is in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

His head pops up, and even in the low light, Steve notices the silvery tracks of tears down his cheeks.

"Steve! What are you--" he hastily wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

Steve's acting only on instinct, crossing the room and dropping to his knees, taking Eddie's jaw between his palms, thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks.

"Did someone hurt you?" he asks.

Eddie's laugh is wet. "Nah, Harrington. I only have myself to blame for this one."

"Can I do anything?"

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry?"

"You, Steve Harrington, kind and compassionate? Learn dnd to make your little nerd friends happy? Who are you?"

"I'm just me, man," Steve blushes. "But, uh, I came to thank you." He's still holding Eddie's face in his hands, can't help but notice the way he flushes, how his dark eyes dart away from Steve's.

"I really liked hanging out with you," Steve says. This close to Eddie, his mind doesn't quite feel like his own. All he can think of is big eyes, soft curls, full lips.

"Yo--you did?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He doesn't quite remember moving, but now their foreheads are pressed together, warm breath mingling, lips almost, almost touching.

"I liked it too," Eddie breathes. After a few seconds, he laughs. "Knew I'd make a nerd out of you, Harrington."

"Shut-up," Steve laughs.

"Make me," Eddie says, and it's just that easy. Steve crosses the space still separating them, presses his mouth against Eddie's.

The kiss is slow, exploratory, the gentle discovery of how they fit together, the promise of all the things they can do in the future, all the pleasure they can bring.

"I'm not a nerd," Steve says when they part.

"No, you're right. You're like a nerd by marriage. Nerd-in-law," Eddie giggles. His eyes are bright, face pink, the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.

"Shut-up," Steve giggles right back.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, the dare obvious, and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.

"You wanna get out of here?" Steve asks when they part, significantly more breathless, jeans significantly tighter, than when he arrived.

"You're gonna have to role persuasion for that, Stevie," Eddie smirks.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #ficlet #oneshot #dnd lessons #falling in love #mutual pining #eddie's down so bad #first kiss #secret nerd steve harrington #i don't know anything about dnd actually so sorry if it's wrong #strangers to friends to lovers #alternate first meeting #big eyes soft curls full lips can't lose #“shut up” “make me” is a love language

[arminsumi]

“you’re short”

“okay? so put some inches in me”

-

all i can imagine is a sassy/bratty reader and a cocky gojo 😭

we’re going to ignore that i’ve only seen one ep of jjk and i’m already requesting smut over it ☠️

OOH, YOU FLIRTIN'?

💗 GOJO さとる

[ Note ] : 🥵😳 what a vision! and lol one ep into jjk n alr thirsty for gojo love that 👍 also u n me are so small compared to him 🫠 also idk if he's more cocky or dorky in this oops lol. and i am writing this on my phone at a sleepover lord help me i have been awkwardly shifting around and avoiding showing my screen to any eyes 😭😭

[ Warnings ] : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : suggestive/18+ content/smut, mentions virgin reader, getting caught

[ Playme ] : XXX

"You're so short."

"Okay, so put some inches in me."

"Yeah, I bet you'd like that, huh?"

"I would, actually."

"Ooh, you flirtin' with me, shorty?"

"Yeah, well you started it, big boy."

Big boy...? 😳

Gojo Satoru, your very cheeky and very bold classmate, who has not held back on flirting teasing you about your height since he met you, is rendered speechless for the first time.

But only for a moment. Soak up your victory quick. He stutters. His brain chokes up. His heart throbs like he's just developed an instant crush. His uniform pants feel uncomfortable.

And then he reanimates himself once he hears Suguru snickering next to him.

"That's pretty bold of you, huh?" he smirks toothily, sinking his shaky hands in his pockets. "Now you're gettin' me all worked up—"

"—oh yeah?" you lid your eyes and flirt. He's taken aback again. "Worked up how?"

"Get a room, you two. Honestly..." Suguru grumbles.

"Yes, I think we will." Satoru winks at you. It's a failed wink. Deep down, he's not confident in his flirting. No. Deep down, he's an awkward dork.

His brain short circuits when you continue flirt back. He actually runs out of things to say.

She's a mature flirt. I'm an immature flirt. How the hell do I keep up? Fuck.

When you and him get alone together, clearing up the chairs after a class, you tease;

"Come on, big boy, what's the matter? Lost your edge?"

"No... I'm just thinking." his voice cracks at the end, he clears his throat. It feels tight. His pants feel tight too.

"About what?"

"About what you look like naked."

You let out a laugh, and laugh and laugh, like he's the most ridiculous flirt you've ever met.

"What?" he raises a brow.

"You're so ridiculous."

Oh yeah. That irks him. That flippant comment. You're not even looking at him as you say it, you're scooting a chair into a desk.

He walks over to you and peers down, making the height difference between you and his 6'3 frame sorely apparent. What a big boy.

"Wanna repeat that for me?"

Ooh his voice is heavy and low, low enough to cause goosebumps on your skin. And the proximity? It makes you feel more than just small, it makes you feel a tingling between your thighs.

He comes closer. Grazes his lips across yours. Mixes breaths with you.

"Uh—" you get flustered.

"—haha, just kidding." he pulls away suddenly. Maybe because he got too nervous (true) or maybe because he felt victorious in knocking you off your high horse (also true).

"I thought you were gonna—" you begin disappointedly.

Satoru cuts you off.

"—do something? Aw, are you horny?" he winks.

"Yeah. For you." you roll your eyes.

Fuck.

My pants feel too fucking tight. Can she see the outline of my dick? Is she looking there?

"Is that so?" he raises a brow, staring right into your eyes. No one holds eye contact quite like Mister Six Eyes.

He chuckles, Addam's apple shifting up and down deliciously. "Aren't you a virgin?" he sneers.

"Yes. I am. Are you gonna do something about it, or just stand there like an idiot?"

He nearly chokes.

Wow. What? She actually just said that?

"Of course I'll do somethin' about it, sweetheart. But..." he leans into your air again, closer than before, 'n breathes tauntingly against your quivering lips.

"... does a goody-two-shoes like you really wanna lose her virginity in a classroom?"

"Stop stalling, big boy. I'm not a "goody-two-shoes"; I'm fucking horny." you seethe lustfully.

Fuck.

He's not sure how to respond. His brain is malfunctioning.

"Alright... then use your words like a big girl and ask me nicely to fuck you." he mutters, lips grazing yours. You can feel how badly he wants to kiss you.

Please say it.

The sexual tension has his heart racing, pretty cock pressing flush against the fabric of his dress pants.

"Satoru..." you begin, pulling on his collar.

He gulps and listens intently. The small touch your fingers make with his neck drives him wild.

"... fuck me."

Something just snaps inside him right there.

He crashes his lips onto yours with a feverish intensity, the rest his history—

—er, until the teacher walks in on you two right as things get toasty, catching Satoru with his hand up your shirt and your hand down his pants. And then you giggle off to detention with Satoru.

He promises to put some inches to your height. Uh... you know... by lifting you off your feet while he stuffs you up with his cock 😌

© arminsumi

No copying/plagiarizing/reposting. Do not promote me on other platforms.

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