#emoneshot

the dialogue of a movie plays in the background. the scene before you is at the peak in its plot, some action movie with loud noises eddie put on after you had shared takeout together. the volume of the tv did nothing to drown out the slow, sloppy, messy, and desperate kisses. his now swollen lips had been tending to you for the entire second half of the movie. “so messy f’me”, he’d whisper between the booms of the explosions and the swaps of spit.

earlier in the evening you were both on the couch facing the screen until eddie distracted you. he had innocently wrapped his arm around you and thrown a blanket over his legs to get comfortable. as he cocooned into himself he brought you in closer to his side so he could adjust you. eddie moved your legs over his under the blanket, and burrowed his chin and nose into the nape of your neck. you hummed sleepily at his warm gesture. “so soft..” he’d sigh. his breath tickling you.

then he was being not so bashful. he danced the bridge of his nose on your soft throat till you were squirming in his lap, and with wandering lips he slowly left featherlight kisses down your neck and then back up. when you released a soft sigh and relaxed in eddie’s arms his tongue flattened out from between his lips and began painting you with his mark. his saliva dripping down, down, down till he was lapping it up. eddie would repeat this, over and over till your shirt collar was wet with evidence of his need to savor you.

the cold air when he would pull away every so often caused you to tense up. he could feel the chills spreading over your arms as your thighs clenched in his lap. eddie loved having the power over you and when he dove back in he would sloppily nip your neck with his canines then soothe you with his warm tongue. granting you relief with his hot body. it was a large contrast of the hot and cold, pain and pleasure. a whisper of —“did you like that, baby?”, dying on his tongue and muffled by your skin. when you would whimper he would breathe harder. shielding his groans that were escaping him. eddie trying and failing to hide the fact that he was enjoying this more than you.

after your neck was sure to be bruised and pink with lovebites. he pulled away again. he grabbed you by the throat softly and pinched your cheeks. he popped a kiss onto your pinched lips that made a smack sound. your neck was wet and his eyes were wide. you looked so pretty under him while your loose baby hairs stuck to your now sticky throat. the image in front of him just increased his hunger. after the sweet gesture of the previously innocent kiss, the boy turned your face and licked up your cheek. he was slow and articulate. you could tell he was wanting to taste you, really taste you.

he reached the top of your cheekbone when you tried moving away from his gross behavior. the grip on your neck tightened. his eyes bored into yours forcing you to freeze. “be still. not done with you yet”. he growled at you, eddie pried open your mouth with his long fingers. “get my fingers nice and wet for me, yeah?” he asked but he didn’t need your permission. his pointer and middle finger pushed onto your tongue abruptly causing you to gag. you produced more spit. he pulled his fingers out and let the bodily fluid drip down your chin.

“oh.. fuck” he paused, “you’re such a tease”. he watched you perform for him. your pink muscle moving in circles around him and flicking over his fingertips before letting the drool fall out of your mouth and down your chin. the principal of it was disgusting, but eddie liked disgusting, and he loved you. he moved his fingers away from your mouth and into his own. he made a show of sticking out his tongue and catching the string of spit that sat between his fingers that were shaped in a v in front of you. you moaned for him. he grunted.

“open that pretty mouth for me again, sweetheart”, he almost begged. you obeyed him with mercy, unsure what was going to come next. “stick out your tongue… yeah, baby.. just like that, pretty girl”. eddie praised you briefly. your lips were swollen, drool continued to drip down your face and your throat was wide. “c’mere”.

eddie moved you so your mouth was below his. he closed his mouth and you watched as his throat gathered his own spit into a pool on his tongue. he opened his jaw slowly and held you exactly where he needed you. he hummed in satisfaction when you stayed put, watching him with big doe eyes. his glob of saliva he had produced fell on your pink muscle and he watched with admiration as you swallowed. the boy above you groaned.

the credits of the movie were rolling as he roughly grabbed you and forced you onto your knees in front of him on the couch. the blanket long gone because both of you were so hot. eddie pulled you up off the floor for a moment. another messy and grueling kiss hit you. he didn’t care that his tongue was barely in your mouth and that yours was all over his lips and cheeks. all eddie cared about was having you be dirty for him. only him. a string of spit connected your lips. eddie sucked it up, and you crouched back down on your knees.

the vhs tape clicked off and the blue screen of the tv illuminated his frame as he ripped off his shit shirt and struggled with his belt.

“be good and put that dirty mouth on me. need to feel how wet your pretty throat is, baby.” he moaned for you as you listened to his belt click off. he pulled the denim of his jeans down with his boxers. his hard leaking cock jumped out and he wrapped his large palm around the base. you drooled at the sight.

heartkiing

They have never had the same friends— but he isn’t anything like his flock. He is bright—and smart and makes her laugh. He is quiet, and so is she—but she’s never talked as much as when she’s in his presence. She remembers being 17— and losing her virginity to him— she remembers floating afterwards and being tugged down when he kissed her. She remembers her catholic school girl skirt on his bedroom floor on top of his timbs—and remembers how odd she thought the juxtaposition was.

It wasn’t just sex— but she doesn’t say it. She just stays—and doesn’t know that leaving is what she should have done. Sometimes she wonders if that’s what pushed him away— that she was so obvious about how she felt— but he was never the type to hide his emotions. She knew she was just pulling at straws. His crowd now is similar too— and he still stands out. The party is loud—and for the fifth time she wonders what she’s doing here, sitting in his section, next to him but not with him. A few men talk to her, but she keeps it moving, her eyes floating over to his own every few minutes. She hates that he knows her. Wishes she could just let it go—drag some other man to the club bathroom and let him fuck her—but she isn’t that girl. She’s only slept with one other man since Kade— and she regrets it enough to be wary of one night stands— of searching for something in other peoples bodies.

__________

She remembers a Tuesday afternoon— the second time they had sex. His hands were everywhere— and they were supposed to be baking. Her girlish giggles filled the small space— his hands tickling her spurred on the light hearted mood. She was floating again—and it was all his fault. She didn’t say she loved him, but it’s there— plain as the brown in her eyes when she looked up at him. The first kiss was as playful as her laughter but the second was not. She bit down on his bottom lip and pulled him in. Her thighs spread— the dress fell off her shoulders and his mouth was eager for new skin. She was begging in minutes— wet in less—and trying to figure the rhythm of it out. She just wanted. She didn’t think. He got rid of the dress then— and let his fingers find the seat of her panties-translucent with her wetness. She blushed and ducked her head and she remembers his voice.

“Nah— don’t do that. What are you embarrassed about? You’re beautiful.”

He fucks her.

It isn’t love making— it’s desperate lusty sex— as if he’s proving a point to her. She lost herself in it, in the rhythm of his body—and the way he pulls her in. She was a heap of yeses— of his name— of her nails digging into the skin of her back. She mumbles filthy things in his ear—things she will recollect later and blush dark red at having said.

He fucks her. And makes sure she knows it’s alright— that he wants her— that he’s just as needy, just as desperate for it. That she shouldn’t be ashamed of it. Shouldn’t be ashamed of wet panties— dirty words or skirt hiked up around her waist.

Oh he fucks her.

But it isn’t just sex.

_______

It’s hard not to remember the way he felt— hard not to remember how he feels inside her, and it makes her blush—makes this party warmer than it should be. Blurs lines and confuses her decisions. He left. He left. He left. And he took his afterglow smile and warm hands with him. Took her heart too but she won’t admit it. She takes another drink, and gives him a smile. It’s too similar to the one she gave him in the kitchen— the one she gave him in his car. The kind she hasn’t given him in 3 years.

“You bring out feelings in me I never show—

Nobody has made me feel this way for you--”

She’s singing the song— without thinking— grooving in her seat, and catching his eyes every few lines. To everyone else it doesn’t look like much, it’s just her mouthing words and Kade watching with that ever-knowing look she’s seen on his daughter’s face.

“I’m a good girl— but I wanna be bad for you.”

And it’s too much— it’s too similar to something she’s said in a past life—in their past life. The smile on her lips is sad—but her panties are still wet and it’s a mind fuck.