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orchidyoonkook · 7 months

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The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.

Intimate. That would be a better choice.

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his��you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing.

You just lost all your tips for the night.

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it.

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.

No one serves him but you.

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath.

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased.

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.

No one calls the Devil by his first name.

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.

No one except you.

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.

The King of Hell.

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.

And maybe he is.

But not to you.

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.

Yoongi.

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.

And he looks like sin incarnate.

Fitting.

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you.

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.

Beautiful.

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait—

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.

You’ve decided.

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait.

And apparently neither does Yoongi.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.

You trust Yoongi.

“That's a good girl.”

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.

You’re the most powerful person here.

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you.

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.

Perfect in every single way.

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.

Not yet.

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.

Ever.

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.

There was only you.

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming.

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

It’s yours.

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?”

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.”

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.

You just know it.

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.

You never expected anything like that.

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.

Because of you.

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that.

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.

He was yours now.

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

2K notes · View notes

fayesia · 7 months

Note

Hi, I had an idea for mike schmidt. Imagine Mike is doing No Nut November.

Streak — Mike Schmidt x reader

a/n: OMG this is such a good idea ty for the request. I will definitely need to write more on this, maybe some blurbs or even this idea for other characters lmk what u guys think!!

You and Mike lay in bed on the night of halloween, cuddled up next to each other after multiple rounds of intense sex.

“guess we can’t do this for a month then?”

“you know how it is in November honey, gotta keep the streak up”

Mike liked to boast about his numerous year streak of lasting through No Nut November. You liked to laugh merely at the fact that he had this streak because he never had a girlfriend until he met you. He was a virgin before that, which you knew after your first night of intimacy lasting around 2 minutes with lots of laughs.

This year would be the first No Nut November where he actually had a girlfriend…and you were gonna make sure he broke that ‘streak’.

On November 1st Mike woke up and saw you get out of bed completely bare walking around to get your things for a shower. You slowly bent over reaching for clothes that flew from last nights frantic events, smirking as you heard a loud groan come from behind you. The large lump under the thin covers said all it needed to about how easy this plan was going to be.

During breakfast you cooked him some pancakes wearing nothing but some lace panties and an apron. Leaning over his shoulder you place the food on his plate, landing soft kisses along his neck while your breast pushed against his back.

“god you’re killing me over here baby, is this cause of my streak? ..come on you know i’m gonna do this”

‘not for long’ you thought.

It been 3 days since the 1st of November and after a long day at work Mike returns home ready for a night of relaxation, walking through the door he’s shocked at the sight of you. Lounging on the couch in his favourite lingerie a simple silk robe covering you.

you greet him at the door guiding him to the dining table where a whole meal has been cooked, but Mikes not hungry for food anymore. His eyes darken as you start piling his plate with food, the movements loosening the robes knot, revealing all your glory hidden underneath.

Abruptly pushing his chair back Mike grabs your hips pulling you down to straddle his thigh. His lips press hard against your own, his tongue entering and fighting a losing battle with yours as he dominates you. He leaves kisses down you neck roughly marking and nipping at the tops of your breast. “fuck this challenge” he growls against your skin sliding your robe off and unclipping your bra. He goes absolutely feral practically mauling your breast, his mouth is everywhere and his tongue soothes the stings after he bites at your nipples. moaning at the sensations you grind your hot core against his thigh. you moan into his mouth as his hands guide your hips to rutt on his thigh. “mm yeah baby just like that, fuck make a mess” looking down at where your core meets Mikes thigh you can already see the large wet spot staining his pants. Your panties are absolutely soaked and ruined and the stimulation of his thigh tensing against your clit has you just about ready to come.

“i’m gonna come omg yes yes”

you’re too overwhelmed to even moan as an orgasm crashes through you, leaving you panting and slumped against Mike. He carries you to the room laying you face up on the bed and stripping himself of his clothes. you watch as he slips his boxers down, his thick cock slapping against his happy trail, the tip is red and a vein that runs through the entirety of his dick is pulsing. you use your arms for support after recovering from your orgasm as Mike stalks towards you, pushing your legs up against your shoulders. his face nears your panty covered cunt and you feel his hot breath against it as he rubs his nose across the flimsy soaked cloth. Finally he rips it in two but your too far gone to even care, especially once his mouth is on you, tongue exploring ever inch of you from the inside out. his lips wrap around your clit and he’s overall just making an absolute mess of your pussy. his spit and your arousal combined spreads across the lower half of his face and also down to your puckered hole.

Just as you’re about to near your second orgasm of the night mike gets up, flipping you over and pushing you face down into the sheets. you wiggle your hips needy for something to fill you up and that’s exactly what happens.

Mikes cock is sheathed inside of you in one swift go reaching the very depths of your pussy, you clench around him and mewl into the sheets. “fuck so fucking tight honey shit i don’t know how long i can last” you try to respond but the only sounds coming out from your mouth are moans, continuous ones that are almost comparable to an amateur pornstars. Using his hands he guides your hips back against him to meet his thrust, the tip of his cock rubbing continuously at your g-spot. suddenly he yanks you up pulling your back against his front while he drives his cock into you even harder and faster than before.

he pinches your nipples, leaving one hand there the other drops to your clit playing with it using his index and middle fingers.

“oh fuck, jesus keep going mikey please don’t stop baby.”

“so close, so fucking close.”

“come baby, with me please”

the continuous rubbing against your clit has you coming hard around his cock, your cum dripping out and down onto his balls, simultaneously Mikes warm load starts filling you up, his loud almost animalistic low groans harmonising with your higher squeals and moans. He lowers you back face down on the bed with a few more pumps and slowly removes his member, remnants of your mixed cum leaking out from your hole soiling the sheets under you, as you curl up against mike. He carries you into the bathroom and with a dazed smile you look up at him announcing, “guess you lost your streak”

~unedited~

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #smut #josh hutcherson #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf smut #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader

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sincerestlove · 2 months

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My Angel (Part 2) - R.G.

hello hello! so sorry i've been gone for a while - kinda lost inspiration and energy to write, but i wanted to put this out! so here is part 2 :) let me know if you'd like part 3, which will likely be the last part.

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: None; possessive Regina, oblivious, gay and pining Y/N, jealous and kinda crazy/obsessed Cady

hope you enjoy!

The next few weeks passed without much incident. Regina and I had been spending more and more time together, just the two of us - going shopping, trying new restaurants, sleeping over at her house. Some days, they almost felt like real dates.

Almost.

Halloween was coming up soon, and of course Regina decided to throw a party for our entire class. I was currently in Regina's room getting ready for said event - we only had a few hours before people would start showing up.

Regina looked gorgeous in her angel costume, finished with large, feathered wings. The costume was ironic, given her nickname for me.

Regina easily somehow convinced me to dress up in a matching devil costume, adorned with plastic horns and a pointy tail. I felt way out of my comfort zone in the outfit, but Regina insisted that I "looked hot", so I kept it on. Obviously.

Regina decided to do my makeup on top of it all, reassuring me that it wouldn't be too much, just a little to match the costume. I, once again, agreed, sitting in front of the vanity as she leaned over me. Her face was so close to mine, I could see the pretty colors of her eyes swirling together and the faint dusting of freckles on her cheeks. She looked absolutely breathtaking. I could feel my heart restricting in my chest by simply looking at her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Regina teased, a smirk resting on her painted lips. I felt myself blushing, clearing my throat awkwardly.

"Nothing, I just...your eyes are really pretty."

Regina smiled, flashing her white teeth at me. "Aw. Thanks, angel." She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, lips lingering for a few moments. "You're sweet."

I don't think I could've been any redder.

Regina finished my makeup in silence, tongue poking out from between her lips as she concentrated. After a handful of minutes she was done, leaning back to let me see myself in the mirror. It actually looked really natural, which I was happy about. Looking closer, I noticed a bright red lipstick mark on my cheek. "Leave it. Looks cute on you."

I nodded shyly, smiling to myself as Regina turned around, cleaning up her room a bit, as people were going to start arriving soon. Not that anyone was going to come up here. If anyone did, she would actually throw them out her window. "You ready to go downstairs?" She glanced over at me, ensuring that my costume sat in all the right places.

"Yeah, let's go."

As we made our way down, Gretchen and Karen were already here, waving at us excitedly. They both looked super cute in their costumes.

"Hi, Y/N! You look so good!" They complimented me sincerely, moving to fix my hair a little so it fell just right over my shoulders. I looked around for Regina, but she had already left the room, finishing last minute touches on decorations and food prep.

"So...cute lipstick mark." Karen teased me playfully, fingers poking into my sides. Gretchen smirked. I rolled your eyes at the pair's teasing, hand instinctively moving to touch the mark, making sure not to smear it.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up, you two." I flipped them off jokingly, allowing them to drag me into the living room to set up the playlist for the night.

As the sunlight disappeared, people began flooding into the house, music pulsing through the speakers. I still hadn't seen Regina since earlier, a sad pang thrumming in my chest. I was sure she was just being a good party host, but another part of me felt like maybe she didn't want to spend time with me.

Karen made sure I had a drink in my hand to sip on throughout the night, and after a good while I felt myself start to loosen up a bit. Karen pulled me into the middle of the room, dancing to a song I had heard on the radio a few times, but couldn't possibly name.

It felt nice to relax and have fun for once, not thinking about schoolwork or responsibilities. The song was almost over, when I faintly heard someone calling my name. I looked around confused, until my eyes landed on someone in an actual scary looking costume. The girl waved at me, taking out her fake teeth to smile at me.

It was Cady.

Yikes.

I waved back reluctantly, turning my back on her to see Karen already cringing. "Why is she here?" She whispered-yelled. I shrugged, genuinely not knowing. Regina definitely didn't invite her. Karen continued, "You should be careful, Y/N."

I looked at her, confused. "Why?"

"'Cause she has a huge crush on you."

I laughed nervously, glancing over my shoulder to see Cady trying to push her way through the crowd toward me. Fuck. "Really?"

Karen nodded, eyes looking at me with sympathy. "Be careful, okay? I'll be right back, Gretchen is bitching about Jason again. He brought some other girl with him." I didn't want her to leave me alone, but I reluctantly let her go, hoping that I could get away before Cady reached me.

I couldn't.

"Y/N, hi!" I turned around, almost jumping out of my skin at Cady's costume. She looked even scarier up close, dark makeup and fake blood all over her face.

"Hi, Cady."

"Wow, you look great tonight." Her eyes wandered along my body, an immediate feeling of discomfort rushing through my veins. I didn't like the way she looked at me.

"Um...thanks. Your costume is...cool."

Cady lit up excitedly, smiling from ear to ear. "Really? You think so? I actually made it myself." I nodded at her ramble, glancing nervously around the room to see if I could spot Regina. I didn't see her or her gigantic wings anywhere.

"Do you want to dance? I love this song." Looking back at Cady, I noticed she had moved closer to me. I stumbled backwards in shock, apologizing to a girl from my Geography class that I bumped into.

"Oh, uh...I was actually just going to use the bathroom. I'll...be right back." Shooting her a nervous smile, I shoved my way through the crowd, thankfully close to the stairs. I made my way up and into Regina's room, breathing a sigh of relief as the door shut behind me.

Was she always so...weird?

"Hey, angel." An unexpected voice spooked me, looking over at the bed to see Regina sitting comfortably on it, eyebrows raised at me curiously. She must've noticed my anxious state because she stood up and walked over, cupping my face in her hands. "You okay?" I nodded, falling into her arms, almost knocking her over.

I just needed her comfort right now. The interaction with Cady left a bad taste in my mouth, not to mention what Karen told me about her.

"What happened?" Regina questioned, quickly taking me into her embrace, her feathered outfit tickling my cheeks. I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it just yet.

"I couldn't find you." I decided to say, nestling further into her warm arms. The blonde cooed at me, running a hand down my back soothingly.

"I just needed a break from all the chaos, so I came up here for a bit." She sighed, resting her cheek on the top of my head. "I didn't think so many people would show up."

I scoffed at her, fingers digging into her sides playfully. "You're the most popular girl in school, of course everyone is going to show up to your party, Gina." The vibrations of her laugh reverberated through my chest, causing me to smile.

"Yeah, well, the only person who I actually wanted to come to this stupid party was you."

I blushed at that, looking up at her to see that she was already looking down at me. Comfortable silence filled the air around us both for a few minutes. "Why are you so nice to me, Gina?" I asked her softly, only a little bit scared of her answer.

The blonde paused, just looking at me. There was something in her eyes that I couldn't quite place, but it made my heart skip a beat. Several beats, actually. "Because you deserve it." She said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

For some reason, the response made tears well up in my eyes. The sight made Regina's heart melt, her hands reaching up to gently wipe the dampened skin, careful not to ruin my mascara. "How about we go finish the rest of this party, and you can stay over? I promise not to hog all the blankets this time."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

~~~

You smiled softly, boldly taking Regina's hand in yours for once, the pair of you making your way back downstairs. You weren't paying attention to anyone but Regina, never taking your eyes off of her, bright smile never leaving your face.

So much so that you didn't notice Cady lurking in the foyer, eyes filling with hate at the sight of you with Regina.

She left the party without another word, stealing one last glance at you. It should've been her holding your hand. Not Regina.

~~~

"Fuck, I am exhausted." Regina groaned tiredly, flopping into the large couch at the front of her room.

I followed suit, falling face first onto her bed, feeling my own tiredness lingering deep in my bones. The two of us, along with Gretchen and Karen's help, managed to push the last few stragglers out the front door. I made sure to call the two girls an Uber home, ordering them both to text once arriving back at home. Regina dragged me to her room once the house was locked up, the pair of us exhausted by the events of tonight.

Clean-up was a problem for the morning.

"Y/N, you need to take that makeup off."

I grumbled in protest, feeling way too comfortable on the massive bed, the sheets flooding my senses with Regina's scent. "C'mon, sit up. Let me take it off."

"Fine." I complained, but did as she asked, sitting up on the edge of the mattress. Regina was already waiting, looking at me with soft eyes. She could tell how tired I was, my eyes blinking slowly. Luckily I had already changed into a pair of her sweatpants and t-shirt.

"I'll be fast, I promise." The blonde assured and moved to carefully straddle my legs, gripping my chin in her left hand, makeup wipe in the other. I was far too tired and far too drunk to actually realize that she, Regina George, who I had a big, fat, lesbian crush on, was actually sitting on my lap, gently wiping the makeup off of my face.

"There, see? Done." She kissed my forehead sweetly, adjusting some pillows to allow me to fully lay down while she finished getting ready for bed. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the lights turned off eventually. The bed dipped beside me, Regina scooting closer to my side. She pulled me closer, adjusting me so that my head rested on her chest. Near her boobs.

Her boobs.

"G'night, Gina." I mumbled into her shirt, flinging a leg to wrap around her hips.

The blonde laughed lightly, holding me closer to her. "Goodnight, angel."

~~~

I woke up to a loud bang on the front door.

It startled me awake, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes to glance at Regina's large wall clock. The time read 1:23am. The house fell silent again, until the same loud bang resonated through the house. I could hear it even with Regina's bedroom door closed.

Speaking of, the blonde was still fast asleep beside me, arm slung around my shoulders. I gently removed her arm, slipping out of bed to go investigate the noise.

Was this a really stupid idea?

Yes.

But, I was also nosy and had a strong urge to protect Regina from anything and everything.

I grabbed my phone and put it in my pocket, moving slowly toward the door. I spotted Regina's old softball bat sitting in the corner of the room, decided that would be a good enough option to arm myself with.

The front door banged again. Fuck.

I took one last glance at Regina's bedroom door, choosing to keep it open. Gripping the cold metal bat between my hands, I descended the stairs, eyes flicking back and forth in case I spotted anything out of the ordinary.

"Open the door!" A loud, slurred voice yelled from the other side of the front door, my eyebrows furrowing at the sound. The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Helloooo?" The person called out again, fist pounding incessantly on the wood. Taking a step to the side, I peeked out the side window, stomach sinking through the floor once I saw who it was.

They were still clad in their Halloween costume, hair messy and eyes looking scarily glazed over. I don't even know if they realized where they were right now.

It was Cady.

My heart rate sped up, hoping and praying that she would just leave. "Y/N," She sing-songed, the sound sending an uncomfortable chill up my spine. "I know you're in there. I can smell that bitch all over you."

Bitch? Was she talking about Regina?

Cady laughed, sounding way past drunk. She was nearly falling over onto the pavement, knocking over the potted plants in the front yard. "Come out here, Y/N. You should be with someone better. You should be with me."

I took a deep breath, willing myself to speak. "Get the hell out of here, Cady. You're drunk." The redhead just laughed, moving back to lean against the door. She kicked it a few times, the sound making me jump.

"Let me in, Y/N. You can come home with me instead. That bitch doesn't even like you. She's just using you for attention - you follow her around like a lovesick puppy." Cady hiccuped before continuing. "She keeps you around just to make herself feel better. She doesn't give a fuck about you. You think I didn't see you two holding hands at the party? That meant nothing to her, just like you mean nothing to her."

I don't know why I was so emotional, but Cady's words stung my heart deeply. I began to question if what she was saying might have some truth behind it. Did Regina really not like me? Was she just using me all of this time?

The silence that filled the home was deafening. So much so, that I began to cry, sliding to the floor of the foyer. The softball bat clanked onto the marble floor, pulling my knees up to my chest like a child. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but every ounce of emotion that I had been holding in, seemed to all pour out at once. My feelings for Regina, my fears about how she felt for me and Cady being a total stalker weirdo, all coming out right now. So very timely. I'm sure all of the alcohol I had wasn't helping.

Cady continued drunkenly yelling for me outside - I had to cover my ears to try and drown it out. I wasn't sure how long I was sitting there, but eventually, I heard footsteps running downstairs. Regina entered the foyer, a frenzied look on her face. She was looking for me, but kept her eyes on the door for a beat. "Y/N? Where are you?" She called out, eyes alert and quickly scanning the room. They landed on me curled up on the floor, tears streaming down my face. The blonde rushed over, hands resting on my shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here. What is going on? Who the hell is that?"

Before I could even say anything, Cady pounded on the front door. "The queen bitch is here! Regina George!" Regina's eyes steeled, turning to face the noise. She grabbed the bat in her hands, standing up and marching over.

"Gina, don't!" I cried, fear bubbling up in my chest for her. I didn't know if Cady had some kind of weapon or something that could possibly hurt Regina. Just the thought of that terrified me.

The blonde stopped in her tracks, glancing over her shoulder at me. She sent me a reassuring, confident smile, that sent flutters in my chest. "Don't worry, angel. I've got this. I won't ever let anything happen to you." She gripped the bat tighter, flipping it in her hands. "Plus, that bitch made you cry. She's not getting away with that."

Without wasting another moment, she swung the door open. I scrambled to my feet and followed closely behind her, peeking around the door to see Cady, completely wasted. It was almost scary. She didn't look like a human being.

Regina fully squared her body to the redhead, raising the bat over her head. "Get. The. Fuck. Off. My. Lawn."

Cady simply laughed, acting as if she had no regarding or understanding of the situation. She was just talking out loud and to no one in particular. "Look here, one and all! The bitch is acting tough!" Cady turned to Regina, a scary looking smile on her face. "You don't deserve Y/N. Give her to me."

Regina's brows furrowed, eyes darkening - there was a look on her face that I'd never seen before. Regina looked genuinely scary. "Give her to you?" The blonde stalked closer, looking even taller than she actually was. Even from here, I could see the vast height advantage that Regina had over Cady. "Y/N is not my, or anyone's, property." Regina spat, moving closer with each sentence. Cady's face was slowly changing, her glazed eyes beginning to realize the grave mistake she made and who she was standing in front of. "She does not belong to me. She chooses to be here, she chooses to be around me." Cady began to walk backwards, almost tripping over the shrubs scattered across the lawn.

"Me. Not you. You want to know why? Because I appreciate her, I adore her, I would to anything for her, I treat her with the respect that she deserves. You could never give her that." The blonde didn't stop advancing. "You think I haven't seen how you look at her? Like a fucking piece of meat?" She was in Cady's personal space now, stopping directly in front of her face. "You don't know a god damn thing about me, or her, or our relationship. You will never hold a flame to that. Ever." Regina clenched her hands, knuckles nearly white around the bat. "If I ever see you near me, Y/N, or my home again, I will fucking kill you. Don't speak to her, don't look at her, don't breathe the same air as her. You don't deserve to." Regina simply pointed in the opposite direction of the house before speaking one final sentence, voice dripping with venom. "Get. The. Fuck. Off. My. Lawn. Before I call the police and ruin your entire life."

Cady, with the fear of God in her eyes, stumbled off in the direction Regina pointed, thankfully not turning around or stopping. I let out a deep sigh of relief I hadn't realized I was holding, running out into the yard to Regina. She stood there with her shoulders slumped, breathing heavily. The bat slipped from her hands and fell onto the grass. "Gina!" I called out to her, nearly football tackling her to the ground. Luckily she steadied me, holding me snug to her own body.

She was shaking.

"It's okay, Gina. She's gone. It's over."

The blonde broke out into a sob, gripping onto my arms tightly, as if I would disappear. "I was so scared, Y/N. I woke up and you were gone. I heard the banging, and I thought the absolute worst." She cried into my hair. I rubbed circles into her back soothingly, reassuring her that I was safe, nothing happened to me, and everything was fine. I don't know how long we were standing there, holding each other.

It was something we both needed, I think.

"Come on. Let's go inside." The blonde nodded in agreement, taking my hands as we walked inside, together. Regina triple checked that the front door was locked before guiding us both upstairs and back into bed.

this is the end of the main storyline! i have a part 3 basically ready to go, which is basically just a time skip of y/n and regina's relationship.

i will be working through the rest of my asks in my inbox before opening requests back up again!

thanks again for reading! it means the world to me!

#regina george x reader #regina george

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lilacliquors · 2 months

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another late easter special, but have some easter spice, cod men edition! hopefully these read as gender neutral as possible <3

you wear 🐰bunny ears🐰 on easter headcanons ( tf 141, alejandro, and graves )

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ GHOST

to say he's surprised is an understatement. sure, you two have your fun, but you've never really dressed up for him in any way before

so seeing you in bunny ears, a crop top, and shorts is a very welcome sight

he's gentle with you when he reaches you, his calloused hands skimming over the softness of the bunny ears, and you see a gentle smile on his lips

'you look absolutely adorable, you know that?' he asks you, his voice soft, yet raspy. and it's true, you're the most beautiful creature he's ever seen

and he's quick to show you, leading you to the bed and laying you on it, on full display for him

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SOAP

soap thought he had the world in the palm of his hand the one halloween you wore the cat ears, but this...

he practically pounces on you the second he sees you, chuckling as the bunny ears bounce and the band covers your eyes for a brief moment

'aye, let's fix those up a bit, shall we?' he chuckles, gently adjusting them back onto your head as you laugh

his lips are on yours in an instant, his hands roaming your body, feeling you squirm under his touch.

'how about we get you in a cottontail next year, hm?' he teases, one hand gripping your rear. and that's when you knew you'd woken an animal in him

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ GAZ

'oh, fuckin' hell...' he breathes when he sees you. you're laying in your bed, your bedroom eyes on full display, as well as the rest of you

you're in the skimpiest lingerie you could find, pink to match the bunny ears on your head, and gaz is hooked

he walks to you in a trance, his eyes never leaving your body, and he crawls on top of you slowly and steadily

'all for me? you shouldn't have...' he purrs, his fingers toying with the straps of the lingerie

'all for you,' you whisper back, and you pull him in for a kiss, which he eagerly returns, ready to get your night started

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PRICE

price wouldn't consider himself a religious man, but when he saw you, he swore he saw god, maybe even heard a chorus of angels in the background

you looked so perfect, opening the door to him in cute little bunny ears, and one of his shirts. nothing else covering you

'see, i would have gotten the hat, too. but i would never cut ear holes in it,' you tease, and he lets out a breathy chuckle as his hands fall to your hips

'that would have gotten you in trouble, yeah...' he murmurs, still in a daze as his eyes roamed over you

from that point on, you're his little bunny, and he makes sure to remind you of it every second of every day, when he can

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ALEJANDRO

the only thing that leaves his lips the moment he sees you is your name, and it's barely above a whisper

you'd worn lingerie for him before, but never had you made yourself look so ... so sexy and vulnerable, and it's all for his eyes, and his eyes alone

when he reaches you, he can't bring himself to take anything off of you. he just wants to look at you, like the work of art you are

when he does finally get his hands on you, he's gentle, treating you like porcelain that could shatter at any moment

it's the most magical night of your life, funnily enough. he made you see stars, unlike any other time you made love, and you made a mental note to treat him to this more often

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ GRAVES

'well, look at what we have here...' his voice is soft, and there's a smirk on his lips as he spots you in white bunny ears and matching white lingerie

but despite the smirk on his lips, his eyes are full of a mix of love and lust, just taking in how you look, admiring your body and everything about it

he's drawn to you like a magnet, his arms wrap around your waist and his hands fall to your bottom, gripping it and pushing you against him

'it can be dangerous for a little lost bunny, if they're not careful," he whispers, giving your ass a squeeze

that night, he simply ravages you, unable to keep his hands to himself. and he sincerely hopes there'll be more nights like this in the future

#ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #phillip graves x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #ghost mw2 smut #soap smut #gaz smut #john price smut #phillip graves smut #alejandro vargas smut #tf 141 x reader #cod x reader #dawn.writes #lilacliquors

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mrsevans90 · 7 months

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Double Life

Summary: Charlotte has gone on a few dates with a journalist named Clark Kent and she really feels like she’s falling for him. She has noticed some odd behavior from him every once in a while, but the worst part is not knowing if he’s truly interested in her. Why won’t he make a move? Is he just taking things extremely slow? Are her feelings for him unrequited? She finds the answers to all of her questions in the most embarrassing way imaginable.

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Clark Kent/Superman x Female Reader Charlotte

Brief mention of Bruce Wayne x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,060

Warnings: SMUT; masturbation, voyeur, oral (f), oral (m), squirting, cum swallowing, fingering, P in V intercourse, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), dirty talk, rough sex, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d

A/N: This story came to me in a dream and I woke up and immediately typed the idea in my notes section of my phone. This is my very FIRST attempt at writing anything on Tumblr so all I ask is please be kind and if you love it then please comment and REPOST! Thank you for reading!

*CHARLOTTE POV*

I woke up early Saturday morning. It seems impossible to sleep in now that I’ve become so used to being at the office by 8 am every morning. I feel a bit jittery after my date last night and am thankful for the wine that I consumed being the only reason I even was able to fall asleep. I lay in bed as my thoughts run wild. I know I should be getting out of bed and going for a run in an attempt to get rid of this pent-up energy, but glancing towards my bedroom window shows a dreary overcast day with a potential for rain. I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position while my brain races thinking of last night. A handsome and often quiet man named Clark Kent had taken me on our fifth date. He was absolutely gorgeous, well dressed with his hair combed back, strong jaw with dimpled chin and black framed glasses. His incredible physique and handsome features are only partially what attracts me to him. His generous and mild-mannered personality and intelligence were a huge turn on. The attraction I feel for Clark is more than I ever remember feeling for a man before. My dating life since getting cheated on by my long-term high school boyfriend has been very short lived which I was fine with until now. I feel like I’ve continually held men at arm’s length, settling for a few one-night stands but nothing more in an attempt to spare my heart from more heartache. I realized after our third date that I wanted more with Clark and that he was worth the risk but I honestly am not sure how he feels about me. Yes, he’s continued to ask me on dates; taking me to dinner several times and even to a movie, yet he hasn’t made any more advances other than holding my hand and a cordial peck on the cheek. He walks me to my door after each date and ends our evening with a hug, kiss on the cheek and a goodnight. After our fourth date, I asked him if he’d like to come inside, however, he politely declined. I’m going out of my mind trying to figure out if he’s even interested but I haven’t built up the courage to ask him yet. I doubt I would even get the chance after I essentially stuck my foot in my mouth on the walk home from dinner with him last night.

*Flashback to last night*

We walked past a storefront near my apartment that was advertising superman shirts for children and I commented how cute they were. I had noticed over the past month, that Clark was very quiet anytime I mentioned the famous Superman around him. Why couldn’t I just take the hint that he was uncomfortable?

“You know, you look an awful lot like Superman. I bet if you dressed as him for your work Halloween party, people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in you both!” I said with a smile that quickly went away when I noticed him flinch.

Unfortunately, I didn’t stop my nervous rambling there. In my attempt to lighten the mood, I said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that you actually are Superman! Ha ha! Do you have a secret identity you’re keeping from me, Clark?” I said with a wink.

When I looked at Clark he seemed withdrawn and somewhat nervous.

“No, no. I’m certainly not that interesting.” Clark quickly responded while looking at his feet as we walked into my apartment building.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight but I have to get going. I have, um… I have an early start in the morning attempting to interview people in Gotham City about the latest crime statistics.” Clark told me before I could even invite him inside. He seemed fidgety and awkward as he kept glancing anywhere but at my eyes.

“On a Saturday?” I ask and he quickly nodded while avoiding eye contact with me.

“Good journalism never takes a day off.” He said with an embarrassed smile.

“I could possibly help. I have Bruce Wayne’s contact information if you’d like it. I’m sure he could be an interesting person to interview for your article.”

“You do? Why? I mean, how do you know him?” He responded with an arched eyebrow as he finally made eye contact with me for the first time in the past few minutes.

“Well, almost two months ago I met him at a charity gala for the Children’s hospital. He came over and spoke to me for a bit before he asked me on a date. It was the day after you asked me if I would go to dinner with you so I politely turned him down. He gave me his business card in case I changed my mind.” I responded quickly. Why does this feel so awkward? I didn’t do anything wrong but I still feel like he’s disappointed.

“I’m sure it’s on my desk in the apartment, if you’d like to come inside?” I ask as a last stitch effort to see if I had completely ruined this date.

“No, no that’s not necessary…Thank you, I appreciate the offer though. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Clark asked with his typical kiss on the cheek.

“Oh…okay. Goodnight Clark.”

“Goodnight Charlotte.” He responded before turning and beelining for the exit.

“Way to go, Char. Could you be any more of a dumbass?” I quietly said to myself as I closed my apartment door and went to get ready for bed.

*Present Day*

As I continue to lay in bed I begin thinking about Clark and think about how large and strong his hand was as he cradled my small one in his while we walked to the restaurant. The veins in his muscular arms, and his strong, sharp jaw. My arousal begins to dampen my panties which I quickly remove and lay back in only my white tank top. Guess this will be the only sexual relief I will be getting for a long time. I thought to myself as I reach for the vibrator in my nightstand and begin pleasuring myself. After only a few minutes, I have kicked off my covers as my body begins to glisten with perspiration, and begin pleading for my orgasm to arrive. My eyes clamped shut, I imagine Clark’s large, strong chest against my own, his arms on either side of my head as he pumps what I can only imagine is a perfect and large cock into my warmth. I imagine his beautiful blue eyes staring into my own as he presses kisses to my body and sucks on my neck.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! Ugh! I need you!” I say verbally as I continue to spur myself on in this filthy fantasy.

CLARK POV:

Across town I am scrambling some eggs on the stove as I think about last night. Had Charlotte actually figured out my secret? Something the rest of the world seemed oblivious too? Or was she just joking and truly unaware? I had to deny it even though she was absolutely correct. I cringed as I began thinking about Bruce hitting on her. It’s not shocking since she’s possibly the most naturally stunning, intelligent, and interesting woman I have ever met. I believe I made it clear with him on the phone after I came home last night to stay away from my girl. I know she’s not technically mine, or a possession to own, but I have more claim to her heart than Bruce and I won’t allow him to interfere. Before I even realize it, I have squeezed a hand shaped imprint around the flimsy handle of the pan I was using.

“Damnit!” I mutter to myself.

I feel like Charlotte is getting impatient with me. It’s obvious that she wants more but how do I handle a relationship with someone I can’t be fully honest with. I want to tell her, I want her to fully know me but I feel like I can’t. I think back to how Lois was used essentially as bait when we were dating. The paranoia and pressure of being Superman’s personal kryptonite and obvious weakness was too much for both of us. Now, she was happily engaged to an engineer in the city. I’m delighted for her, she deserves true happiness yet I wonder if I’ll ever get to experience the same. I couldn’t stop myself from asking Charlotte on a date. The moment I saw her walking into the office next to me, I was lovestruck. Her long blonde hair, tight but professional dress with heels and most importantly crystal blue eyes. She was independent and driven as the head of marketing for her department. Yet, she still had this kindness about her as I watched her enter her building and the front desk guard hug her while thanking her for the toys she had sent home for his young children. She smiled genuinely and made him promise to bring his wife and children for a visit soon. God how I wanted every bit of her. I wanted her body, her mind, her future. The fourth time I saw her, I couldn’t help myself as I made my way towards her and “accidentally” bumped into her. We began a conversation and I was hooked. Before I could even think about the potential consequences, I was asking her to dinner. My cock ached as I thought about her in the shower last night after our date. Hell, I may be an alien but I still have sexual urges. She smelled and looked so beautiful. I could imagine her breasts pressed against my body. I daydreamt about the softness of her lips and the sounds she might make as I slowly took her apart. It has been almost impossible to turn down her invitations to join her in her apartment. I haven’t even allowed myself to kiss her because I’m scared to go any further and get more attached only to have her walk away if she finds out my secret. Was this self-preservation or just stupidity? I’m jolted out of my thoughts as I hear her voice louder than all the others noises going on around me thanks to my super hearing. I listen carefully as I hear her calling my name.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! I need you!”

I hear her whine and she sounds as if she is out of breath. Without thinking I jump into my Superman suit and bolt out of the window straight into the sky headed towards Charlotte’s apartment. As I get closer, I can hear her whimper along with her accelerated heartrate and I panic thinking she’s in trouble. I reach her unlocked window and slide it open before flying in. Her apartment smells just like her, floral and clean. I focus on her heartbeat and the quiet buzzing sound that I originally thought was coming from the apartment below hers. As soon as I open the door I smell her arousal at the same moment I watch her reach her climax with her eyes clamped shut.

“Yes, baby!” She cries out. Her legs are parted as she holds a small purple vibrator against her clit and I can see and smell how turned on she is as her pussy glistens with her want. Her breasts are barely contained in a thin white tank top as they heave up and down while she breathes through her orgasm.

Fuck! I’m such a pervert. I need to get out of here before she sees me!

I can’t help but stare at her as she’s laying there twitching from her euphoria. I reach for the door to carefully close it before I realize I wasn’t quick enough.

“Oh my god!” She shouts as she pulls the covers over her body to cover her modesty. Her face blushing profusely as she stares at me.

I back up quickly with my hands in front of me until my back hits her hallway wall. “I’m so sorry. I heard you calling for me and I thought you were in pain. I swear I didn’t mean to walk in on you!” I blurt out quickly not even realizing my own mistake. Charlotte just stares at me with a shocked and bewildered look on her face.

“I’ll go, truly I’m so sorry about this, Ma’am.” I say with my eyes directed at the floor as I pray my rock-hard erection isn’t as obvious as it feels in my form fitting suit. Right as I turn to run back towards the window I hear her again.

“Wait! Please wait!”

Her eyes are wide as she slowly begins to smirk as I turn back around to face her, my eyes still drawn to the floor.

“I didn’t call out for Superman. I called out for Clark.” She says and I glance up at her with wide eyes as saucers as I realize that I had just outed my own secret. My cheeks blush and I can’t put together a single thought to respond to what she just said.

We stare at each other for what feels like minutes even though it’s only just a few seconds.

“I knew I was onto something. You’re always MIA around when Superman is on the news fighting crime, and you stiffen up anytime I mention him. You also had to leave early because of a “family emergency” on our third date but seemed confused later when I asked you if everything with your family was okay. That was the same night that serial killer was brought to the police station by Superman in Gotham. I…I hope you know that I won’t ever tell anyone, Clark. I thought you knew that you could trust me.” She says and I step towards her while remaining a safe distance.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I do trust you but I’ve had to keep this secret my entire life. I was scared at how easily you caught on. I always knew you were intelligent but I was hoping I could still keep you off of the scent of my deception.”

“It was really just a theory, but obviously this is my confirmation. Since I’m already more than embarrassed after what you just saw, I guess I really have nothing to lose if I just go ahead and ask you.”

“I’m listening.” I say as I hear her heartrate begin to increase steadily.

“Is this why you’ve held back from me? Or are you even interested in dating me? I’m absolutely fine with taking things slow if that’s what you want. I can’t help my old insecurities that make me wonder if you’re even attracted to me and are serious about taking things further with us.” She says with the sweetest innocence and I can’t help but walk towards her and reach out to stroke her cheek. She pulls for me to sit down beside her and I can’t resist.

“I am absolutely interested in dating you, sweetheart. If you only knew how infatuated I am with you, it might frighten you. You are my dream girl, the one I think about each night, and the one person I feel like truly sees to my soul, even when you only knew half of my identity. I see a future for us, Charlotte, which is why I was scared. I was scared that you would run if you found out who I am. I was scared you then might only be interested in me because I’m Superman. Simple Clark just can’t compete with all of the Superman fanfare. What scares me the most is that you could be used as a pawn by dangerous people. I can’t fathom putting you in harm's way. People could come after me and find you to use against me. Being Superman ruined my last and only real relationship so I guess I felt that if I kept ours in limbo, I could still have the time I crave with you while also not losing you. I was afraid to let you in because of my own fears. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was to not kiss you during our dates or come into your apartment when you invited me. I’m so sorry if I made you feel anything other than absolutely adored. I’m out of my element and have no idea what I’m doing.” Clark says the last part with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Clark, I understand your fears and your sense of self-preservation. I do it too. I often feel like I’ve built the walls around my heart too high in order to protect myself from heartache but each moment I’ve spent with you seems to lower them. I see a potential future with you too which is terrifying and exhilarating all at once because I don’t want to be heartbroken again. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you are worth the risk. I’m not afraid of you, or being with you. I’m not going anywhere. I want you in any and every form and I won’t run away. You are the only person that has made me feel alive again in years.”

Clark smiles triumphantly before leaning down and kissing Charlotte passionately. After kissing her for several minutes, she slowly pulls back to catch her breath.

“So, you’ve seen mine… When do I get to see yours? Fair is fair.” Charlotte looks up at me sultrily as she runs her hands up and down my arms.

“Are you certain that is what you want?” I smirk as I arch my eyebrow at her.

She nods as she sits up on her knees and drops the blanket that was covering her body only clad in a thin white tank top.

“Only if you want too.” She seductively bites her lip as she trails her fingers down my torso and gently cups my bulge that is swelling indecently against my tight suit.

“Holy shit!” She murmurs quietly as she presses against my engorged erection and I can’t help but chuckle.

Before I even think I’m unzipping and tugging my suit off of my body at super speed before leaning over her and ripping her tank top from her torso. She squeals in excitement as I lean over her pressing our hot naked bodies against each other while pulling her into a zealous kiss.

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about having you like this, Lottie. I’ve wanted you to be mine from the moment I saw you.” I say as I touch all over her beautiful body.

“Ditto, which you obviously know since you got a front row seat to my indecent fantasies about you.” She says with a little giggle as I begin kissing down her torso after having already sucked on her pert breasts.

I make my way down her body as I become face to face with her hot, dripping core. I smell the sweet arousal coming from her and when I look up at her for permission she quickly nods as she reaches to caress my cheek. I smirk at her before I begin feasting on her sweet petals and sucking on her clit.

“Oh my god, Clark!” She almost yells while her hands tug against my hair as she begins gyrating her hips to increase the pleasure she is receiving from my mouth. I continue for a few minutes as I feel her begin to stiffen from her orgasm. I continue to lick her gently through her orgasm but decide that I’m not finished with her yet. I want to give her an orgasm so earth shattering that she squirts her arousal all over my face. She shouts as I shove my finger into her opening, quickly followed by a second one. I curl my fingers and search for her g-spot.

I know quickly that I’ve found it when her back arches off of the bed and she yells, “Fuck! Clark! Right there!”

I begin shoving my fingers against the soft spongey spot while my tongue continues to flick over her clit.

“I think I’m gonna… oh shit Clark! This feels different! Oh my god!” She squeals as her body arches off of the bed and she begins to squirt. The sounds of her squelching and dripping are lewd as I continue to work her through it. Her body almost convulses around my assault and I preen at her filthy moans. I am doing everything to keep from blowing my load on her bed. I watch as Charlotte’s whole body quickly becomes jelly-like as her muscles relax and I lightly kiss her thighs.

“That was beautiful, baby.” I say as I press small kisses on her hips and abdomen.

“Did I? Oh my god, Clark. Did I just squirt?” She asks as her cheeks are beet red.

“You sure did baby. Soaked my face and almost made me blow my load. Did it feel good?”

“Yes, but I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sor...” She began to say before I quickly cut her off with a kiss.

“Don’t you ever apologize for that sweetheart. That was a pure masterpiece and I hope I’ll get you to do it again at some point. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on.” I admit before kissing her again.

“Now it’s your turn.” She smiles as she attempts to push me to the bed. It’s like a kitten trying to push a lion over which makes me grin before I quickly concede and lay on my back.

“Babygirl, you don’t have too. I’m just happy to give you pleasure.” I tell her.

“Oh no, Mr. Kent. I’m not missing an opportunity to taste you.” Charlotte says as she begins moving down my body. I can barely lay still once she reaches my manhood and I feel her warm breath where I need her most. I groan as I take in the sight of her tiny hand wrapping around my girth as she begins to kitten lick along my length. I groan as she looks at me doe eyed before she takes me in her mouth. She has the mouth of a goddess and I’m already close before she even adds her tiny hand to pump what wouldn’t fit. I reach down and grab her long beautiful hair into a makeshift ponytail so I can watch her. I feel her tiny hand begin pulsing around my balls and groan loudly. I can’t help myself as I watch her steady herself before taking my entire length to her throat. She gags as her nose reaches my skin and she slightly pulls off before doing it again. Saliva is dripping from her chin as she continues working my cock.

“Babygirl, I’m gonna cum. You need to...fuck… stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.”

She moans around my length as she doubles her effort and the vibrations feel heavenly. That’s all it took for me to reach my high and explode down her throat.

My body shivers in aftershocks due to the oversensitivity as Y/N continues to suck around the head of my cock and massage my balls. I look down and see that she’s swallowed everything and is smiling brightly at me. I reach down and pull her up my body as I immediately begin kissing her breathless.

“Darling, that was incredible. Thank you.” I smile at her before I kiss down her neck.

*CHARLOTTE POV*

My mind is empty of every thought due to the alarm bells and “OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING” screaming repeatedly in my head. I’m trying my best to play it off, but my fantasy is coming true and it’s even better than I ever could have imagined. Clark is not only the best kisser I’ve ever experienced, but he has the body of a Greek God. Well, in this case, he has a body of a superhero. I’ve been doing my best not to sound needy but heavens, I need him inside of me.

“Clark” I say as he continues to press gentle kisses behind my ear and the column of my neck.

“Yes angel?”

“Please tell me I don’t have to wait long for you to be inside of me. I need you.”

He smirks above me as I feel his rigid cock against my abdomen. It didn’t go soft after his orgasm. “You want me right now?” I nod enthusiastically.

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart. Take what you want.” Clark says huskily in my ear. For a man who seemed so reserved and shy, he has all of the confidence in the world when it comes to the bedroom. As he should!

I smile wildly as his chest vibrates against my own with a low growl as I reach his hard length and pump him a few times against my slick before pressing him to my entrance.

“Oh my god!”

“Shit!”

We both speak simultaneously as he seats himself fully inside of me. It feels like he is reaching my lungs as he gives me a moment to adjust around his ginormous cock.

“God, Clark! You’re huge!”

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Clark frets even though he hasn’t moved inside of me.

“Fuck no!” I respond almost breathlessly as I wrap my hands around his biceps tightly.

“I’ve just never been with someone as big as you. I’m okay. You can move now.”

Clark carefully pulls almost completely out of me before gently sliding all the way back in.

“Baby girl, you are so tight and warm. You feel incredible.” He says as he starts building up a gentle rhythm.

“You won’t break me, baby. You can go harder.”

“I could if I’m not careful, Sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I will tell you if it starts to hurt, I swear. Relax, baby.” I say before kissing him enthusiastically. He reaches and cups my tits in his hands, massaging them gently.

Clark watches me carefully before taking a breath and slamming into me roughly. His pubic bone slamming into my clit making me shriek with the sensation.

“How’s that for harder?” He whispers.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby! Just like that! You feel so good inside of me.” I whine as my hands scratch down his back without even making a mark on his strong impenetrable skin.

“That’s right, sweet girl. I can tell you’re close. Come all over my cock. Squeeze me.” He says as my body begins milking him.

“CLARK!” I shout.

“Call me Kal, baby. When I’m balls deep inside this sweet pussy, I want you to call me Kal.” He says with the most shit eating grin while never slowing his pace.

“Oh my god, Kal!” I moan just before my eyes roll back and I instantly come all over him.

“Fuck yes, this is the tightest little pussy in the world. So beautiful and wet and snug around me.” He grunts as he continues to slam into me. Before I realize it, he’s sitting me up in his lap so that our chests are against each other and my legs are wrapped around his waist. Clark grabs the back of my neck to press himself even closer to me as I brace my hands on his shoulders.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly become more beautiful….” Clark whispers into my ear as he grabs my ass to help me move on top of him.

“Watching your gorgeous body tremble in ecstasy is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Angel.”

Clark plants his feet against the floor and begins wildly thrusting as I rotate my hips in his lap. His hands are most likely leaving bruises on my hips but I don’t even care.

“I want you to come inside of me, baby. I need to feel you fill me up. I’m on the pill. Please?” I speak against his ear between his heavy thrusts into me and clench down on him at his responding moan. What has gotten into me? I’ve never let a man come inside of me. This isn’t just any man though, and I am absolutely feral for him.

“Only if you come with me.” He grunts.

“I can’t… it’s too much.” I tell him as my body shakes against him.

“Yes, you can, baby.” He reaches between us and presses his thumb on my clit. I cry out from overstimulation but realize I’m almost there.

“Kal, right there! I’m so close!”

“Come baby. Soak me.” He says as he continues to pleasure me and a moment later I have the most blinding orgasm of my life. I swear that I feel like I am floating as I hear Clark grunt and release a deep baritone moan as his warm come coats my inner walls. My body is shaking with tingles to all of my extremities as I am encased in pure bliss. When I finally somewhat come to, I realize I wasn’t just floating from my orgasm, Clark and I were actually floating above my bed. Clark’s head is resting on the junction of my neck and shoulder when I quickly press closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

Clark chuckles as he gently sets us down on the bed. “I guess you would’ve found out my secret eventually. I just came so hard that I literally levitated.”

I giggle and press my lips to his. “I didn’t freak you out, did I?”

“Not at all. I think it’s really cool that you are Superman, Kal;” I say as I stroke a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. “but the man that I have been falling in love with is Clark. He is all I need. The rest is just a bonus. If you’ll have me of course.”

Clark rests his forehead against my own as he gives me the most panty dropping smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetheart. Will you be my girl?”

“I would love nothing more.” I respond with a sweet kiss. The rest of the weekend is spent wrapped in each other.

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill characters #clark kent #superman x reader #clark kent x y/n #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine

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coryosbaby · 11 months

Text

Feels like Sugar in Me

[Ethan Landry x bimbo! Reader]

— “ I think you’re perfect.”

Summary: Ethan is insecure about his costume, and you help him think otherwise. (Translation : You and your roommate Ethan give each other head after a Halloween party.)

Warning: a little bit of angst & a lot of fluff, insecurities // oral (m & f recieving), cunnilingus, pussy eating, cum play, mommy kink, handjobs, spit kink, fingering, lots of praise, dom! Reader, sub! virgin! Ethan

He’s the most precious little thing, dressed in his knight costume with his cardboard hat. You think he’s adorable. He frowns when your friends make fun of him, but you just kiss his cheek and defend him with everything you have. He’s your Ethan, after all, and no one should talk bad about the angel you have as your roommate.

And when you’re finally home, when your discarded fairy wings are somewhere off in your bedroom, you take a seat on the couch. Ethan comes out, freshly showered and smelling oh so delicious, like usual. He smiles softly when he sees you there, fairy costume gone, clad in a pink see through robe and— is that lingerie, underneath? Maybe it is; Ethan is used to you wearing such revealing things, and although he tries not to stare it drives him crazy every single time. You don’t mind showing yourself off to Ethan. You trust him to be respectful to you, and you aren’t one to shy away from showing off your body. And why wouldn’t you be? You’re perfect.

You shuffle through a container of leftover vanilla ice cream. Your hair is pulled back away from your face (Ethan has always liked it that way). He offers to order a pizza for the night, and you say yes. You both turn on Halloween because Ethan knows it’s your favorite, and he brings out your favorite blanket when you come back from changing into your pjs because he knows it keeps you warm.

“You’re the sweetest.” You coo to him, as you rest your head against the boys shoulder. It’s a reflex, at this point. You both watch movies a lot, and he enjoys when you rest on him.

“I try to be..” Ethan shyly murmurs. And you giggle as you think back the night.

“You made such a cute little knight.”

Ethan scoffs, but a blush stains the apple of his cheeks at your words. “Yeah, I bet.”

“I’m serious!” You grin, your fingers going up to stroke his soft curls.

“It was terrible.”

“I liked your costume!” You start, as Ethan protests that the night was the suckiest Halloween yet.

“That’s a lie, y/n!” Ethan’s voice is embarrassed as he laughs. “It was horrible. Absolutely.. vile.”

“Vile? That’s a weird way to put it.” You tease. And then you’re frowning at the way the boy avoids your gaze. “But you looked great, E. You know.. I always think you look great.”

He nervously looks over at you, a small smile moving across his plump lips. “Really?”

“Really really. You’re the prettiest boy I know.”

You know it’s probably not something you should say to your supposed best friend, but you can’t help it.

“You really think so?”

“I think you’re perfect.”

It comes out slow and soft, and your body becomes alight with electricity when you realize how close you and the boy in front of you are. He’s looking at you with his lip caught in between his teeth.

“I think you’re perfect, too.” He replies.

You smile. Heat gathers between your legs at the sight of the boys tousled hair, pretty Bambi eyes and biceps bulging out of his shirt.

You kiss him.

It’s a surprise to you both, when the soft plumpness of his lips touch yours. He tastes like ice cream, mouth a bit cold from the sugary treat and laced with a vanilla flavor. He’s awkward, you notice. He’s never kissed anyone before.

When you pull away his eyes are still closed. He’s got a dopey smile on his face, as if he’s just got a taste of his favorite drug.

“I liked that,” Ethan murmurs. A small giggle escapes your lips. Your fingers graze his jaw.

“I was hoping you would.”

He flashes a nervous smile, and then he’s darting his eyes away from you again.

“Can you— can you do it again?”

“If you want,” you suggest. He nods, bringing his palms up to your shoulders.

“I do,” he infers. “I want you to— to do whatever you want to me.”

He doesn’t know exactly how to communicate in times like these. You just chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. He sighs.

“I’m gonna kiss you again, okay?”

He nods eagerly, and he grabs your hips. It’s clumsy, a little bit of an anxious movement, but you place your hands over his and press into your love handles harder. You move into his lap, and a small sound of surprise escapes him.

You don’t hesitate to kiss him again. It’s just as perfect as the first, and you can feel him poking into your inner thigh. Ethan throbs underneath his pajama pants at your touch.

His hands are in your hair, now. Soft palms scrape against your scalp as his lips move jaggedly against you, his chest pressed against the swell of your breasts. He squeaks, then pulls away and asks if he can see your tits. An immediate yes sounds from you, and when you remove your robe and unclip your bra, they’re exposed to the room. Ethan’s eyes can only be described in one word — entranced.

He looks hungry, and his mouth doesn’t hesitate to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasp, running your hands through his curls and giving them a soft tug. He whines, bucking his hips up.

“Needy boy,” you tease. He agrees solemnly.

“‘M hard,” he murmurs. You laugh at his obviousness.

“Yeah, honey, I noticed that.”

“Can you make it go away?”

He looks up at you and kneads your tits softly in his palms. You can’t say no to that.

“‘Course I will,” you say. You move back and begin to run your fingers along the awaiting bulge, and he breathes heavily. “Can I see it?”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah— anythin’ for you.”

His pants go down, down, down. He isn’t wearing underwear, and his thick length slaps up to his stomach when he moves his waistband down to his thick thighs. Your mouth waters. You’ve never seen such a pretty cock.

Ethan is panting, nervous.

“Do you like it?” He asks, hopeful.

“You’re gorgeous.” You say, in awe. “Fucking perfect. So big..”

He keens at the compliment, and when your hand moves down to his hardening cock and tugs on the base, he pulls away from you and his mouth drops open. You give him a gentle stroke. He moans.

“I.. I like that.” He whimpers out. Precum drips down him like a leaking faucet. He’s so wet.

“Yeah?” A soft moan escapes him when your thumb brushes over his reddened tip. His head tilts back in ecstasy. “You sound so pretty, E. I bet this cock sounds even prettier when it’s inside someone, doesn’t it?”

He shakes his head, aggressive and too concentrated on the pleasure you’re giving him to give a solid answer.

“Never.. I’ve never f-“ a harsh twist of your wrist and he’s keening, a small mewl leaving his plump lips. “Oh my god, please…”

“You’ve never done this before?” Your tone is a teasing lilt. “Never fucked a warm, wet pussy? Hm?”

“Want yours…”

It comes out whiny and desperate. Your mound clenches, empty and aching for Ethan’s poor virgin cock to fill you up. Your tongue lolls out when you look down and see his girthy length again. You sink to your knees, then, and the boy whines in an abrupt protest.

“Come back..”

“In a minute, baby. Let me taste you first.”

Taking his tip against your lips, you press a light kiss to him. He keens, makes a sound low in his throat, and threads his fingers into your hair. You run your tongue along his head and begin to lap up the precum leaking from him. He tastes absolutely divine, and your hands grasp his thighs harshly when you down his cock in one go.

He spasms, and gasps softly. He’s never felt this kind of sensation, and it’s all so new to him that it has his toes curling. You look up at him, so lovingly and angelic, and give him a special look he can’t quite place. He begins to speak, precious mouth running wild at the sight of the girl of his dreams taking his cock.

“God, that’s good..” And then, “Y’look so beautiful…”

If your mouth wasn’t full, you would be smiling right now. His touch in your hair is a firm grip, and it makes your scalp sting a little. But you know he doesn’t mean it. He’s never done this before, after all.

His smell and taste evades your senses; it’s hard to think, and even though you have this muscular boy moaning and whimpering underneath you, your head becomes cloudy and desperate.

You need him to cum.

That’s all you can gather, right now. You need to feel him running down your throat. So you pull off of him with a pop and continue stroking him with fervor. Your eyelashes flutter as you look up at him.

“Be a good boy, sweetheart,” you coo. His eyes widen, face flushing a deep crimson. You smile. “Let me taste your cum. Fuck my throat and let me have you.”

His fingers thread through your hair again; he’s gentle and firm all at once. His hair is mussed, his eyes full of wanting. And when his tip bumps against the softness of your lips, you open wide and let him back inside you again. He tries to be gentle, makes sure that you aren’t taking too much at once, even though you’re the experienced one and he isn’t. It’s endearing.

“Momma…”

It comes out in a soft and sultry whisper, as Ethan’s cock throbs on your tongue. Looking up at him, his doe eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth is open in a widened look of awe and shock at the feelings evading him. His thighs are shaking. He’s already about to cum.

Hands going to squeeze his balls, you moan when he thrusts his hips against your mouth. He begins to pummel your throat over and over again, soft whimpers leaving his precious mouth, hair messily strewn across his forehead and drenched with sweat. On a particular choke and tightening of your entrance, he groans loudly, and then he’s creaming on the very next thrust of his hips. His tip quakes at the feeling of your spongey walls, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

“Yes, yes! mommymommymommy—“

He chants the name like a prayer, whining and crying at the intensity of his orgasm. The taste of his cum hits your taste buds, and your core throbs. You’ve never been much of a swallower, but it’s Ethan, so although salty and bitter and thick, you want more of his cum pumping down your throat so bad that you almost can’t breathe. You swallow all of it, popping off of him and licking the excess up with your tongue and spitting back out onto him again. He moans desperately, the overstimulation making his cock ache but in the most amazing way. You let his cum drip down to his base, and then to his balls. You wipe your mouth and move back up to lay down on the couch. You’re quick to remove your panties. Ethan gapes at your exposed cunt, lips swollen and clit poking out between them. He makes a move to taste you, the puddle of cum drenching his lap forgotten. You mewl when his lips meet your pussy. He presses a soft kiss to your hole, then one of your lips. He’s trying to find your clit.

His big hands wrap around your thighs and pull him closer. The couch is small and it’s at a bit of an awkward angle: you laying down, Ethan leaning over his own lap. But neither of you care. You smile at his virginal attempt at pussy eating, but you just use his hair to pull him towards where you want him. When his tongue runs over that familiar bundle of nerves, you sigh out a praise.

“Yeah, baby. That’s my clit— riiiight there. You’re such a good learner.”

He moans, and his eyes flutter closed as he begins to eat your pussy like a man starved. He’s sloppy and wet with it, and his spit soaks your cunt and drips down your asscheeks.

Your eyes are rolling back in pleasure. You feel something graze your entrance and— it’s his fingers, and fuck, you’re already about to cum. Those fingers hesitate, then leave you for a moment. You hear a slick sound, and then they’re pressing against you again.

But this time, they’re wet.

He’s using his cum to lube you up. You can feel the thick substance seat itself inside you when he sinks his index finger in to the hilt. He wiggles it around a bit, tongue grazing your swollen nub and then roaming around your entrance. You cry out when his one finger hits that space inside you.

“Right there!” You moan. He groans, working on that one spot while he adds another finger. Your pussy is incredibly loud, gushing all over his hand as he fingers your sopping cunt. And with one last flick of his tongue, your orgasm is washing over you in gigantic waves. Your let out a loud gasp, Ethan’s name spilling from your lips over and over as he continues to penetrate you with his fingers and tongue.

When he pulls away his face is covered in your spend.

“Did I do good?” He asks, curious.

“Did great, baby,” you praise. “You’re such a good boy.”

The tips of his ears turn red from your compliment, and then he’s guiding his tongue back in between your legs to get another taste of you. Your hands go back to his hair again, and you rut your hips into your face.

“Gooooood, baby. Get that fucking face wet.”

And with that, Ethan’s cock twitches and he continues to worship your cunt like it’s his God.

A/n: thank you for 4k followers. I love you all.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x fem! reader #sub! Ethan landry #scream #scream 6 #scream iv #scream vi #Ethan landry x bimbo! reader #bimbo! reader #dom! reader

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cerebralisis · 1 month

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I decided to make my analysis of So High School into a separate post, because I can’t help but think of this song every time I see photos of Taylor at the games. And sure, it sounds like a love song on the surface until you remember that Taylor was bullied in high school and start to dig a little deeper. Feeling "so high school" is not something a 34 year old woman wants to feel.

Let’s look at the lyrics.

"I'm sinking, our fingers entwined, cheeks pink in the twinkling lights" = To me this sounds like drowning, embarrassment, and diving in with the sharks

"Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me" = You mean her first Chiefs appearance when they 'slid off in the getaway car' at the end? Nothing good starts in a getaway car, babes.

"I'll drink what you think and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night" = I mean...

“I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night" = What do we know about this movie? We know that it is renowned for its high school immaturity and misogyny. It’s about a bunch of horny boneheaded men who treat women like sex objects instead of people. Sounds a lot like football culture to me.

"Your friends are around so be quiet. I'm trying to stifle my sighs." = I'm in the box with your friends and family. I need to hold it together so I don't offend them, but I legit hate this.

"Cause I feel so high school" = SHE HATES THIS.

"Bittersweet 16 suddenly" = I don't think she was a fan of high school, you guys.

"Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game but really, I'm betting on all 3." = A clear reference to that kiss/marry/kill interview with Travis, while also saying "we're gonna get together, put on a show for everyone, and I'm going to slowly die inside until we're done."

"Get my car door, isn't that sweet. Now pull me to the backseat" = All I hear with this is Movie Director Taylor giving instructions to her leading man so they can get a good reaction from the audience.

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle." = You're a jock. I'm a nerd. We are not compatible.

"Touch me while your bros play grand theft auto." = The official song lyrics on Spotify put grand theft auto in lowercase the first time and capitalized the second time. The capitalized GTA could refer to Travis's friends playing the video game, sure. But also - you know who was arrested in August 2023 for grand theft auto? Bashaud Breeland, a cornerback for the Kansas City Chiefs who played with Travis in the 2020 Super Bowl.

"It's true, swear, Scout's Honor" = Look it up, I dare you.

And my absolute favorite:

"On the brink of a wrinkle in time" = This is TTPD, folks. Of course there's going to be a literary reference. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. The main character is a girl named Meg who is incredibly bright but struggles in school because she doesn't fit in with the other kids. After meeting a trio of badass witchy women, Meg travels to far-off worlds (a sort of deep portal time travel, you might say) where she joins the battle of light vs. darkness. What do we know about Taylor’s usage of light and darkness throughout her discography? It's giving… Reputation vs. Daylight? Shrouded in secrecy vs. out in the open? Based on everything else that Taylor has been hinting at through TTPD (not to mention Evermore and Midnights), it sounds like she is on the verge of diving into a much larger battle. And if I had to guess, I would bet that this battle will start during the Reputation re-release. Around Halloween. 🎃 When exile ends. Almost exactly 2 years after the Bejeweled music video was released. Maybe the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now cause she's dead?

I'm just speculating, but I will add that the 3rd book in the Time series is called A Swiftly Tilting Planet. There is a poem referenced through the book that goes like this:

With Ananda in this fateful hour, I place all Heaven with its power, And the sun with its brightness, And the snow with its whiteness, And the fire with all the strength it hath, And the lightning with its rapid wrath, And the winds with their swiftness along its path, And the sea with its deepness, And the rocks with their steepness, And the Earth with its starkness, All these I place with God's almighty help and grace between myself and the powers of darkness.

The word ‘Ananda’ mentioned above is the name of a character in the book, which is significant to the story because it’s a Sanskrit word that describes the eternal bliss that accompanies the ending of the rebirth cycle. If this series is what Taylor is referencing then it’s sounding more and more like she’s going to kill off Taylor TM and be done with the games, done with the reinvention. The plot summary of A Swiftly Tilting Planet says that it’s a book about "going back in time and changing might-have-beens." What decisions would she have made differently if she could do it all over again?

I don't know, friends. Take from this what you will. All I know is, this woman and all her brilliant duality is going to send me to a padded room. ✌🏻

#friends of dorothea #gaylor #lgbetty #ttpd #the anthology #so high school #🎃#🎃 anon

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rebelfell · 8 months

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so right, it's wrong

continued from x

where its halloween and eddie feels guilty for hooking up with his best friend's ex...except are you still his ex? 18+, MDNI

“Stupid. This is stupid. This is so, so stupid.”

Eddie mutters to himself as he skulks up the driveway towards the front of Steve’s house. His costume was hot and itchy on his skin, the pants suddenly feeling too tight and his shirt and vest threatening to choke him despite their looseness on his frame. The fencing sword tied to his hip poked him with every step and his boots were more like cement blocks he was dragging to the threshold as he rang the bell.

The idea to dress as characters from The Princess Bride had been in the works for ages—ever since Steve heard about the contest KQRX was throwing, offering free concert tickets for a whole year as the prize. Originally, it was going to be all three of you, but that was before the break-up, before Tina’s party…before Eddie considered selling his soul for another night with you.

It felt wrong even going through with all this, considering how involved you’d been.

It was you who helped Eddie scour seemingly endless thrift shops for the perfect pieces of his outfit while he was pinching the inside of his arm to stop himself thinking about dragging you into one of the dressing rooms and kissing every inch of your body. And it was you who watched as he and Steve practiced their “sword fight” out by the Harrington’s pool—looking debilitatingly, unfairly, cute wrapped up in a flannel, correcting Steve when he botched his lines and making a pink blush dance across Eddie’s cheeks when you praised his delivery.

Steve was convinced there was still a good chance of winning even with just the two of them, and Eddie didn’t have it in him to protest. He was still trying to figure out how he was going to look his friend in the eye after what happened.

You and Eddie hadn’t spoken since Friday night.

There had been tons of parties all weekend, as was typical whenever Halloween fell on a Tuesday. He probably could have found you if he’d had the balls to go looking. He knew well how keen you were to dress up at any and every opportunity for your favorite holiday.

And he wanted to call you, he really did. He must have dialed all but the last digit of your number about a hundred times since that night.

It was driving Wayne up the wall.

“Boy, if you ain’t gonna dial that phone, stop gettin’ its hopes up. If you don’t leave it alone, I’m gon’ knock you upside the head with it.”

But if he did call, what was he supposed to say? Hey! Thanks for sucking out the very essence of my soul through my cock? How about I return the favor sometime? Sound good?

Yeah, sure. That would go over great.

So instead, he’d hidden in his room. He’d worked on campaigns for Hellfire in between his pacing in front of the phone. And instead of going to your friend Ella’s party Sunday night, knowing how likely it was you’d be there, he’d gone over to Gareth’s for a slasher movie marathon.

Nothing like senseless bloodshed and gore to kill a perpetual boner. Not that it did.

Even hours of b-tier horror couldn’t stop him from thinking about you. The whole night kept playing on a loop in his mind. The way you straddled his lap and moaned into his mouth as he grasped at your hips to grind you against him. The way your mouth fell open in a wanton gasp as he kissed his way down your neck. The way you slinked to the floor and released him from his boxers that were stretched to their absolute limit. The look in your eyes as you spoke, low and sultry.

“I know you want me, Eddie,” you’d cooed at him, teasingly kissing at his weeping, sensitive tip until his head was thrown back and his eyes rolled back into his skull. “Show me how much.”

“Is that seriously the best you could do, Munson? Come on!”

Steve’s voice rings out harshly the second he opens the door, jerking Eddie out of his trance.

He huffs at the sight of Eddie’s mustache, or rather lack thereof, placing his hands on cocked hips. He makes an annoyingly good Dread Pirate Roberts in a billowing black shirt with a deep v-neck that reveals a patch of his dense chest hair. His black pants are tight, showing off muscled thighs and he’s already got his mask wrapped around his head, his own sword in hand.

“Not all of us are part werewolf, Steven.” Eddie snipes as he stalks through the door and pushes past his friend, guilty eyes averting.

“Whatever, maybe we can fill it in or something. Oh, honey! Perfect timing!”

Honey?

Eddie’s head whips around to see you floating down the staircase, the swishing of your skirt around your legs halting as Steve holds out his hand and tugs you into him.

“Shit, babe, you look hot,” Steve says, planting a wet kiss on your cheek that made you smile and caused Eddie’s stomach to lurch.

“Hot” didn’t even begin to describe you tonight. You looked…like a princess.

There was no other word for it. His heart was hammering behind his rib cage as his eyes roved over you, eager to take in every detail he could. Your dress was almost exactly like the one from the movie and even with the big sleeves and a long, flowing skirt, it failed to conceal the shape of your body underneath. It hinted at the curves there, teasing Eddie with the memory of them. Was it really just a few days ago his hands had roamed so freely all over you? Had feasted on the dip of your waist and the fullness of your hips?

You peer at Eddie curiously, subtly stepping back from Steve as you’re tucking a piece of your long wig behind your ear. “You look nice,” you say.

“Except the obvious,” Steve sighs. “Can you do something about his mustache?”

“Yeah, sure,” you breathe, your eyes never leaving Eddie’s, your head tipping towards the bathroom. “Come in here where the light is better.”

With a gulp and a nod, he follows you while Steve heads for the kitchen to make another drink, and probably check his own reflection on the way.

Eddie is dead silent as he leans on the sink in the half-bath off the foyer. He clutches at the edge of the countertop, sweaty palms threatening to slip out from beneath him at any second. With any luck, maybe he’ll hit his head on the porcelain and the concussion will get him out of this.

You’re quiet too as you root around inside a small pouch filled with your make-up until you exhume a brown eyeliner pencil. You place your fingertips gently on his chin, holding his face steady as you color in his upper lip with short, soft strokes. The feather-light touch and the way your eyes focus so intently on him makes Eddie’s heart race and he feels certain you can see it’s about to beat straight out of his chest.

“You okay?” you whisper. “You’re shaking.”

Eddie nods, neck stiff and his body rigid with you standing so close to him. He swallows thickly, his throat clenching with the question he’s dreading. But he has to ask. He has to know.

“So, you guys are—are you, like…back together?”

“I don’t know yet,” you say, your voice small. “Maybe. We’ve been talking about it.”

“Since when?” he asks, and the sound comes out harsher than he meant. Your eyes flicker, the light from the sconce over the mirror shining in them.

“Sunday night. We ran into each other at Ella’s party.”

Fucking shit. Of course you did.

“I thought I might hear from you,” you add quietly. “Or maybe see you, but…”

You lick your lips, glancing away from him as you cap your eyeliner and tuck it back inside your bag. Your tongue wets the gloss you’re wearing and makes it look even shinier. Fuck, he wants to know how you taste tonight, what flavor it is that’s on your mouth.

“I…I…”

Eddie’s mind swims with all the words he wants to say, but they get snagged, unable to come out. Because what exactly is he supposed to say when all he can think about is pinning you against that door, hiking up your dress and filling your hot, slick core with his fingers or his tongue or his cock until you’re screaming his name loud enough for the entire town to hear?

Except that’s never gonna happen. Because he’s not Westley. He’s not the hero here. You’re not his heroine and you never will be. There’s no version of the movie that ends with Inigo and Buttercup riding off into the sunset together.

“It’s fine, Eddie. I get it,” you say softly. “We can forget it ever happened.”

Eddie sighs, the heft of his frustration punching it out of his chest. If that’s what you want, of course he’ll do it. He’s been pretending not to be in love with you for a long time already.

No sense breaking the streak now.

You lean around him to collect your bag from the sink and the smell of your perfume is like a punch straight to his gut. He takes one last deep breath of you as you zip your bag shut and reach for the knob on the door.

It creaks as you crack it open and you pause, chancing a glance back at him. "You really do look handsome," you tell him.

And then you leave. You head for the kitchen and go back to your boyfriend who's waiting for you. Back to the only version of this movie there is.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson stranger things

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musings-of-a-college-dork · 1 year

Text

A Bumpy Ride…

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Word count: roughly 4.8K

After a Halloween Party has gone awry, Eddie needs some private time with his girlfriend...but where to go…

Warnings: NSFW (minors do not interact), mentions of a prior fight, terms of endearment (good girl, angel, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, etc), unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), aftercare included (so important y’all), squirting, subspace though not explicitly stated, oral (f receiving), fluffy sex for the most part!

Author’s note: Sooooo there was a post I saw a while ago from @dearramiel saying that they needed feral Eddie the first time his girlfriend lets him hit it raw so…and turns out I had already written that for a longer fic…so here it is! And it’s in the van no less! Enjoy!

It had been a long night. What was supposed to be a fun Halloween party at Gareth’s house had turned into a brawl when Jason and the rest of the jocks dared to show their stupid smug faces. While the Corroded Coffin members had managed to push the jocks out of the house, Y/N had taken the time to check in with everyone else and got the party back into full swing right as Eddie’s head popped around the corner. She had just finished carrying a friend of hers to a nearby chair after they had too much, handing them off to Robin who was doing her best to have a good night.

“Do you need to lean on someone now?” Eddie asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I should be asking you that,” Y/N said as she turned back to him, “Jason got you in the side pretty hard huh?”

“You’re giving him too much credit”, Eddie lifted his shirt and Y/N observed the budding bruise that was growing on the surface area on his lower abdomen. “Holy shit,” he got a closer look and poked it. “OWW FUCK” he moaned.

“Here,” Y/N said as she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the skin, “That better?” Eddie said no words. No think. He just looked at her. And made some indiscernible sound that went like “Garethasgusroom.”

“What?” Y/N giggled as she stood back up, allowing her hands to rest on his chest.

“I think I need some first aid,” he sighed, resting his hands on her neck, while stroking the base of her head.

“Well then…” She smiled, “Why don’t we get out of here? Everyone is so caught up, I doubt they’ll notice.”

“People will absolutely notice that you’re gone,” he whispered. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down the stairs “but they’ll manage” he went back to running, flinging open the front door.

“Real subtle, Munson,” She teased as she shut the door behind them, careful as to not further damage Gareth’s house.

“You’re not fast enough”, he scooped her up and began sprinting to his vehicle, which was supposed to be sexy, but ended up giving Y/N a little whiplash.

“Eddie, if you need me that bad we shouldn’t have stayed long enough for Jason to have his hissy fit,” she teased as they arrived at the car, Y/N glad to be on the ground again as she held the side of the van for support while she found her feet.

“You are so powerful,” he blurted. “Like seriously. I was kinda scared. But… I kinda liked it. I like how protective you are. You remind me of me,” he opened the back door and offered her a hand inside. “But you don’t have to be so strong all the time.”

Y/N melted at that sentiment and he watched as her eyes went wide. It was a state he noticed she got into every once in a while, usually when she was feeling overwhelmed, needing him to take the reins and hold on tight.

“I don’t?” she asked, her tone going high, taking a step closer.

“Nope,” Eddie popped that ‘p’. He could watch as she looked for words before taking his hand instead, the final nail in the coffin that allowed him to take over. With that he picked her up and helped her into the back of the van, climbing in after. He made sure to shut the doors behind him and when he looked back at her she was gazing up at him like he had hung the moon and stars. A while ago, he had opted to make the back of the van comfy - pillows and blankets around. The guys had asked and he said it was since they were traveling more for the band, he wanted them to be comfy…but they all knew that was far from the truth.

Eddie was reminded of the real reason as he watched Y/N’s fingers dig into the blanket she was laying on top of, a soft sigh coming from her as Eddie leaned in. Her hands instantly went to his shirt and she went to pull him in for a kiss only for him to tut and reach one hand over, his other lifting her head to rest a pillow underneath it.

“You comfy, sweetheart?” He asked, his hand coming down to rub circles over where he could feel her hip bone. She let out an affirmative hum and it was like the stress began to melt off of her, making him smile. “You wanna let me take care of you tonight, Y/N?” She nodded and whispered out a soft “yes,” making him smile as he leaned in to kiss her.

“Are you sure this is what you want right now?” He asked genuinely as he paused, thinking over the events of the night, “we can also just go home or stay here and cuddle-“

“No,” she shook her head and turned his face to look at her, “I really want this. Need to…need to not think for a while. Just want to be with you.” Eddie melted as he saw the trust and sincerity in her eyes. This wasn’t the first time she’d had a day in which she really needed to forget it all in a way only he could provide.

“You’re so sweet when you get like this,” Eddie said softly, his voice genuine, as he kissed her and pulled away only to speak, “You’re so strong baby, so damn strong. When you let me see you like this, uh,” he let out a groan as he ground into her, allowing her to feel how hard he was through his jeans, “You get me like this all the time but when you let go and just let me make you feel good, take care of you,” he ran out of words and just kissed her until he felt her give a little tug to his shirt, causing him to pull back, “You ok, Y/N?” He brought his one hand up to caress her face as he looked down at her with concern, “Was that too much?”

“No,” she shook her head quickly, her eyes blown wide as she still held onto him, “I…I trust you so much,” She confessed, “That’s…that’s why I think…I feel safe to not be so strong…with you…if that’s ok?” Eddie positioned himself over her so that their noses were grazing.

“Y/N, you make me strong. If I get to be the person you lean on, I’d consider it the highest honor because I love you and nothing else can-”, he stopped. “ I. I. Love. You” Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as he said it, the words he had confessed to her he didn’t think he had the power to say to anyone ever. She had accepted it then, and it really was fine, she didn’t mind it since he showed her every day…but to hear him say it. She instantly tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him down to her, needing to feel every inch of him.

“Again,” She asked as she pulled away to kiss down his neck.

“I love you” he breathed. She held him so tight as if this was all that mattered in the world and honestly, it was. He was.

“Again,” she begged, this time adding on a soft, “Please.” Her tone was so shaky he could have sworn she was close to tears as she sucked marks into his neck, needing him to be hers in every way.

“I love you”, he ran his hands down her back gripping her so tight as he buried his head into her neck.

“I love you too,” She told him, “So much. Fuck, I just…I love you.” She had held those words in for so long. Since she had told him she loved him and he had expressed he wasn’t able to say those words yet, she hadn’t said them since, trying hard to follow his lead and show him instead of telling him. She wanted so badly for him to be happy, safe, and comfortable with her. He deserved it. And she wanted to give him everything he wanted, everything she had to give. And to say them again, and to hear them, that was everything.

He pulled his head from her neck and looked down at her again, the sheer adoration in his eyes every time he looked at her something she hoped he’d never lose.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, a message for only her.

“So are you,” she replied, earning a smile from him. She felt his hands slide up her skirt and grip the elastic band of her underwear. He pulled it back so it popped onto her skin with enough force to make her let out a little gasp as he chuckled at her, her returning it with a soft giggle of her own as he buried his face into her neck once more and pressed a kiss there.

“What color is it tonight?” he smiled into her neck. “Tell me before I see it”.

“Black,” she confessed, “Wanted it to match your jacket.”

“God you’re such a fucking good girl”, he groaned as he slid his hands into the waistband, ever so slightly tracing over her but never getting near where she needed him most, “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.” She let out a soft whine making him chuckle as he traced his fingers over her slit, “You want me here? Is that it?”

“Yes,” She said, her voice breathless as she gripped his hair even tighter, “Want you-need you,” she corrected as she held him so tightly. “Please, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he swore as he felt how wet she was despite everything that had happened tonight, “I need you too, baby.” He ran his fingers over her slit a couple times collecting the wetness there before bringing them out, admiring them in the light. He looked down at her, the girl completely blissed out underneath him as he held the fingers up to her. “Suck,” he commanded gently and she did, taking his fingers into her mouth and sucking on them without any hesitation.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he swore as she whined, grinding up against him for any sort of friction. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth, drawing a whimper from her as he did which he quickly stifled with a kiss to her lips. “Can I use my mouth on you baby? Would you like that?”

“Eddie, need you inside-”

“Baby,” he lectured as he moved down, and slowly ran his hands up and down her thighs reveling in the goosebumps in his wake, “You know you need to get ready for that-”

“But-”

“Ssh,” he said as he watched her eyes go glassy at how badly she just needed to forget it all and let him be in complete control, “I’ve got you.” She nodded with a soft whine as he finally pulled down her underwear, letting out a groan at the way she was revealed to him. “Been thinking about this all night,” he confessed as he blew on her, making her whole body shiver, her thighs spreading further apart for him. “Watching you dance with your friends. And then hearing you tell Jason the fuck off. God, wanted to take you right then and there. Didn’t fucking matter half the basketball team was there. Any of those fuckers would like the show.” He slipped a finger into her, watching as she let out a gasp, hands gripping onto anything she could, fingers he knew would soon be tugging at his hair like they always were when she got like this. “Thought about this, putting my fingers in you, having you a little mess for me. And only for me.” She let out a moan as he put another one in, and began to move them inside of her.

“Shit, you always sound so pretty. My pretty girl,” he purred as he leaned down and began to press kisses to her neck.

“Eddie please-”

“What do you want, angel?” He asked softly as he began to suck hickeys into her neck, one in the exact spot he knew she liked behind her ear.

“Please fuck me,” she begged, voice so shakey and he knew she was gone, putty in his hands in a way that promised the sweet relief she always needed.

“Anything for you,” he said as he nodded. He brought his lips down to her clit and kissed there first, gently just to get her used to it, using his free hand to hold her hips in place causing her to sigh out in contentment as he felt her give more of herself over to him.

“There you go,” he cooed in adoration, “let it all out, baby. I’ve got you.” Y/N’s voice got even higher in pitch as he began to really focus his efforts, his fingers moving inside of her coupled with his mouth moving against her. He knew what she liked at this point, taking his time to not only learn every intricacy of her body but also of her mind when she got like this. Before long, he could tell that she was on the edge, her fingers pulling harder in his hair as she squirmed despite his best efforts to keep her still.

“Wow, already? You really that pent up for me sweetheart?” He asked only to receive a high-pitched hum. He chuckled and the sound coupled with the vibrations and the way he pressed a third finger into her had her teetering off the edge. The last thing it took to get her there was simple.

“Let go for me,” he commanded, and she did, with a soft cry, her eyes squeezing shut as she held him impossibly close, needing him. He made sure not to waste a drop, licking her clean and when he came up, he was shocked to find how quickly she sat up to kiss him. He pulled away ever so slightly and she chased his lips until he quickly put a finger to them.

“Is this what you want, baby? You want me inside of you?” He asked gently. She nodded and clutched his shirt.

“Please Eddie, please. Need you inside so bad,” She confessed, getting so whimpery for him when she got this pent up.

“Your wish is my command, darling,” he said as he kissed her while her hands wasted no time undoing his jeans and pulling him out.

“Oh fuck,” he swore as she stroked him gently. He was already hard as a rock when she took him out, pre leaking from his tip as he shuddered on top of her. “Please, just like that.” She laid back down and Eddie was on top of her once more as she stroked him and began to line him up.

“Y/N, wait.” She did, instantly, her eyes going wide as she looked up at him to make sure he was alright. His eyes were wide but his tone soft as he smiled at her, reminding her gently, “I need to put on a-”

“I’m on birth control,” Y/N said quietly. Eddie’s eyes went even wider as he processed exactly what she was saying to him, his reaction of shock and surprise making her continue on, “And…I know you’re clean…and I am too…so…if you want…”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked, his hands coming to hold her cheeks and scan her eyes for any sign of hesitation at all, “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” She nodded, “Need you. Need all of you.”

“Fuck,” he swore again as he braced himself, his hands pressed so hard into the floor of the van, “If you’re sure-”

“I am if you are,” She double-checked with him. He nodded, a soft smile on his lips before he came down and kissed her so softly, slowly beginning to inch himself into her.

It was a very different feeling, one that was new for both as he slid into her, taking pauses as their moans and pants mixed together.

“Holy shit,” he swore having to pause half way through from the way she was squeezing down on him, “you’re so fucking tight,” he chuckled, causing her to gasp which in turn had her clenching around him making it worse. He cringed in pleasure, hissing as he brought his hand down to draw soft slow circles on her clit, “Gonna need you to relax for me, sweetheart or I won’t last long.” Y/N kissing on his neck to distract herself from the burning stretch wasn’t helping him to keep from blowing right then and there. He tried to allow his mind to wander elsewhere as he had in the past when he had been too close too fast with other people but this time, all he could think about was her.

After a couple of more moments, he felt her buck her hips, a clear indication that she wanted more of him, all of him.

“Please,” she begged as she wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him, red lips swollen from the way he had been kissing her. “All of it.” He nodded and complied, pressing the rest of the way into her with a hiss, hands worming their way under his shirt to dig her nails into his back.

“Holy-”

“Fuck-

“Oh my god,” he groaned as he pressed his lips to hers, anything to tell her how good he felt at this moment. He kissed her so passionately, her whimpering underneath him fueling him as he pulled out ever so slightly as a test, both moaning into each other’s mouths.

“Still want another minute?” He asked as he pulled away, trying his best to maintain his last thread of sanity to check in with her, resisting the urge to fuck her into next week. “I can-”

“Please move,” she begged, her one hand tangled in his hair as the other ran scratches down his back, “Need it so badly, please Eddie, please!” And just like that, his last shred of sanity snapped. He pulled all the way out and then filled her again in one fatal swoop drawing a shriek from her before he pressed his hand over her mouth.

“Remember, baby,” he said as he stilled inside her for only a moment, “If you’re a good girl for me like you’re being right now, I always give you exactly what you want. I’m going to right now, but if you don’t want everyone here at this party to know, keep being good and try to stay quiet for me, ‘kay?” She nodded and he removed his hand, smiling before he pressed a kiss to her forehead as the hand that was over her mouth trailed down to her neck and without really squeezing, just found home though drawing a whine from her at the feeling of the cool metal rings against the warmth of her throat. The whine was a quiet one as she tried her best to comply with his commands. He knew in times like this that was the only thing she aspired to do.

“There’s my girl.” He didn’t even give Y/N a moment to breathe before he was back to his brutal pace. Her legs came to wrap around his waist, her nails leaving the most delicious burning string on his back as she clawed at him. She could feel him, every ridge and veins as he continued to fuck her into the next week. And she, oh god, he thought as he took for her all she was worth, she felt like velvet. He couldn’t get past the sound of him fucking in her, the wetness of it all. She was always a perfect fit for him but right now she was squeezing him like a vice - so damn tight he knew he wouldn’t last long. He watched her face contort as she tried her best to keep her moans quiet.

“So good,” he praised her, drawing even more of a moan, “My good fucking girl,” he punctuated each word with an especially rough thrust, feeling her clench so tight around him, the moans falling from her mouth his own version of heaven.

“Shit baby,” he swore, bringing the hand around her neck down to her clit despite her little protests, “I’ve got you. You’re ok.” Her eyes were glossy, makeup running as he continued to ruin her and the way she looked up at him had him pressing his lips to hers like he was poisoned and she was the cure. He felt the tears slip down her cheeks as she clenched down impossibly tight around him.

“Go on, Y/N,” he whispered in her ear, “Let go.” And she did, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as he felt wetness gush from her, coating where they were connected.

“Fuck,” he swore, unable to hold off his own end as she continued to grip him like a vice. “Shit Y/N I’m gonna-”

“It’s ok,” she managed, her breathing so heavy as she rode out her high, “Please-Eddie-”

“But I’m still-”

“Let go.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he swore again as he couldn’t hold back any longer burying his head into her neck as he came inside of her, the girl gasping and holding him as he did. He continued to thrust shallowly, allowing them both to ride out their highs, before he heard her hiss in pain from the overstimulation and slowed, still inside of her.

“Shit, Y/N,” he swore as he came up for air, taking in gulps, as much as he could, “I’m…I’m so sor-”

“S’its okay,” she reassured him, the hand in his hair playing with his curls as she pulled his face back into her neck, “Wanted you to. Felt right.” She pulled him away when he went quiet to see the guilt written on his face. She let out a soft sigh, smiling up at him, completely blissed out as she pressed a kiss to his lips. “It’s ok Eddie. Really.”

“Okay,” he nodded, smiling and letting out a little sheepish chuckle, “I guess I should-”

“Please don’t pull out yet,” she asked softly, causing him to halt any motion to do so, “Just…stay like this with me for another moment…please?” He melted, rolling them both to the side so that she could nestle right into his chest.

“Of course,” He nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Always.” The pair lay in comfortable silence, just holding each other and being as close as they possibly could, intertwined in every way. God did it feel right. That was all Eddie could think as he held her so close to him, her head tucked into his chest as he kissed the top of her head.

“I love you, Y/N,” he repeated, meaning it from the deepest part of his soul.

“I love you too, Eddie,” came her soft reply. He beamed from ear to ear, holding her even tighter as she giggled, finally coming down all the way.

“We should probably get cleaned up and head back, huh?” Y/N asked as she pulled away just enough so she could look up at him.

“You just took me raw for the first time, squirted, let me finish inside of you, and now you want to go back to Gareth’s Halloween party?” Eddie asked, laughing in sheer disbelief.

“Well when you put it like that,” Y/N teased as she too fell into a fit of giggles, becoming aware of how sore she was and the fact that he was still inside of her trying her best to keep him from slipping out, “But yeah we should at least say our goodbyes.”

“Good thing I equipped the van for this very situation then,” he said as he pulled out of her with a little hiss, drawing a gasp from her. Eddie sat up as Y/N rolled onto her back and his eyes were instantly glued to her center, watching as their combined release dripped out of her.

“Holy shit,” He swore, his fingers moving to put some of it back in as it oozed out of her.

“Eddie!” She scolded with a gasp causing him to bring both of his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry!” He said as his eyes reminded glued, his hand not covered in slick searching blindly for where he put the damn towels and wet wipes. “I- I just…”

“Eddie Munson I swear to God if you get hard again-” The pair both dissolved into giggles as he finally tore his eyes away, searching in earnest.

“What Y/N L/N?” He teased as he finally found them and returned to her to clean her up with the utmost gentleness. “You gonna scold me? You might wanna watch out on that front since that could result in me getting hard too. Did you miss what I said about loving that you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad?”

“You said I was so damn sexy when I’m strong,” Y/N teased as he finished cleaning her up allowing her to sit up as he cleaned himself as well before tucking himself back into his boxers, “It’s when I’m angry now?”

“Why not both?” He asked, sticking his tongue out at her as he went to redo the zipper of his pants before laughing. “Damn, guess I should have taken these off all the way, huh?” Y/N looked down to find them covered in her release and went neon red, burying her head in her hands as he laughed.

“Oh my god, Eddie I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, hey,” he said with a laugh as he moved around, looking for something else now, “I’ve known the risks since the first time we ever did anything, remember?” She went even redder the memory of the first time he fingered her. “I am…as always…fully prepared,” he pulled out a new pair of pants with an “ah ha” from somewhere in the van, “See! I’ll be good as new and as long as we fix up your hair and makeup, they’ll never know!”

“And what about your hair?” She asked as she reached for the little makeup case he kept in his glove box just for her.

“My hair is always glorious,” he said with a beaming smile as she attempted to change pants, rather unsuccessfully, eyeing her ass as she was yet to pull down her skirt. “It just happens to look especially good after sex.”

“And mine doesn’t?” Y/N pouted as she turned to look back at him, having him debate round two with serious consideration before she turned away with a giggle.

“Oh trust me, it does,” He replied as he pulled her by her hips to sit in his lap as she worked on her makeup, “But,” he began to press kisses down her neck causing her to squirm, “if you go out with messy hair, everyone will know and I thought our tactic was subtly. My hair is always a mess. It’s part of my charm.” Y/N giggled some more as he wrapped his arms around her waist and tucked his face into her neck with one final kiss before watching her apply her lipstick in her little hand mirror.

“How do I look?” She asked after another minute, looking at him in the mirror.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he said, the sincerity in his voice melting her down to her core. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek as she set the makeup case down in the back and pulled down her skirt at last as they got ready to depart.

“Well that’s good considering that you literally had me crying,” she chuckled as she made sure to wipe away the very last of the mascara on her cheek.

“The only time I’ll ever make you cry,” Eddie said with conviction and a smile as he went to open the doors. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Ready,” she replied. He smiled and opened them, looking to make sure no one was watching before offering her a hand out of the car. She giggled as he helped her out, quietly closing the doors behind them and sitting her on the edge of the van as he looked at her still carrying her shoes in his hands.

“Here,” he said as he took them from her, “Allow me.” He kneeled down on one knee, shoe in hand, and began to slip them onto her feet, pressing soft kisses to both ankles as he did. She giggled and he smiled up at her.

“You’re too good to me,” She said as he stood up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“You deserve nothing less,” he replied, giving her one more quick peck so as to not mess up her lipstick before taking both hands and pulling her to her feet. “Now come on,” he beamed as they began to walk back, “if we wait there a second longer, I promise you round two will be in order.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie smut #eddie x fem!reader

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luveline · 7 months

Note

hey jade! i loved your vampire!sirius fic it was so cute!! i know it’s not halloween anymore but could you write another one of vampire!sirius with that unphased reader please?

hi lovie!! for u

Sirius pushes you down by the throat, his eyes narrowed and his weight heavy on your stomach. You squirm beneath him, trying to push him off.

"Ow…" You cover his hand. "Not so rough."

"Sorry," he says, hand moving to your shoulder. His apology is genuine, soft as silk, as are his hands where they wander. "I just missed you." He tucks his arm behind your neck and leans in for a hug.

You giggle. "Yeah? Me or my circulatory system?"

"Don't say stuff like that!" He kisses you atop your pulse, the place he so often nibbles. "I missed you."

You grab handfuls of inky hair and hug him back. You can't say you weren't expecting to be taken to bed the moment you got back, but you absolutely thought it would be for a feeding or some weird bloody fun. This is unexpected, but still nice. "You smell nice," you mumble, closing your eyes.

He kisses your neck. His lips travel upward, nothing seductive or smooth about it —this is all clumsy, chaste sweetness, and it's knocking you off kilter. "I don't think you should go away again."

"It was four days."

"Have we been apart four days? Since we met?"

No. You and Sirius have become that irritating weirdo couple that met and immediately fell in love, so to speak. You live in the other's lap, and you have no regrets thus far. It's odd how well you get along, but he's an odd creature, and you're worse if he's to be believed. My little freak never sounded so saccharine.

Even when he pulls up to tower over you and that strange alarm bell in your head begins to ring, your adrenaline spikes, the glint of his sharp fangs and the predatory thinning of his irises activates an innate fight of flight, but in your head? You have no urge to move. It doesn't make any sense. "No," you answer, having almost forgotten. "We haven't."

His cheek is scratchy in your hand. "And look at the consequences. I've been forced to drink from other people and you've taken up a barrage of exciting new boyfriends–"

"Well, I haven't," you say, grinning at him. "You're the only boyfriend for me. I tried, but the supernatural find me so very off-putting. I can't imagine why."

"Oh, you tried?" he asks, dropping his face to dig his nose under your jaw. He kisses you, but you know he's doing that as an afterthought, the nose jabbing his main prerogative.

"Not really." You cup the back of his head. "Are you hungry?"

"Would you stop it? I'm trying to express my love for you and you're desperate to play victim."

"I'm just wondering."

His fang scratches your skin, a graze. The blood it produces wouldn't so much as wet his fingernail, but he licks the wound to seal it and kisses straight up your cheek to the corner of your eye. "Please," he says, relaxing into your hold, "don't go on holiday again. At least for the next century."

"So for the rest of my life?"

Sirius scoffs. "If you think I'd let you die an old crone, you're stupid. You're stuck with me forever." He doesn't sound quite as sweet when he says it like that, a solidness to his declaration that should give you goosebumps. "You belong with me."

It should freak you out. What a strange thing to say. What a weird thing to picture.

"You really don't want me around for my endless buffet?" you ask.

"Don't be stupid. If blood were your most valuable trait I would've drained you the night we met. It's a little bonus for now, and in a few years when you're ready you'll drink some of my blood and be my wife for the rest of time."

You lean back to look at him. "What if I'm ready now?"

He moves to mouth kisses into your soft jaw. "Darling, why rush? You can only get more perfect." He laughs into his kisses, speaks smushed and warm into your skin, "What if I'm ready now?" he repeats, kiss-kiss-kissing. "You aren't scared of anything, are you, my love?"

"I'm certainly not scared of you."

"You might be scared of never eating crisps again though, hmm?"

You think about it. "Alright. In a few years."

"That's my girl."

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

Eddie x fem! Reader [masterlist]

Prev | vol viii

Summary: November 1st, Steve’s birthday celebration, a new friend is brought into the mix, Eddie’s past is revealed.

Trigger Warning: no minors pls, language, drinking, reader wears Eddie’s jacket, fluff, angst.

W/C: 11.5k

@jo-harrington + @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading this a tiny bit for me

The sun is waning through your curtains, blinding your eyes with a light so bright it’s like you’re staring into a flashlight. The ominous whirring of your fan oscillates, sending a chilling breeze across your room

Silently thanking yourself for taking ibuprofen before falling asleep last night, the pounding in your head is minimal, but the scratchy dryness of your throat is a steady reminder of the impromptu karaoke singing and the toe to toe chain smoking contest you bullied Eddie into. Your former drunker self turned cockier with every drink.

“I bet you… this house! This fucking house! That I can smoke more cigarettes than you can at once,” you slurred in a buzzed stupor as you swayed your body with the faint music of REO Speedwagon, your finger pressed into his chest where the fabric v’d open.

Red eyed and already higher than Willie fucking Nelson, Eddie grins wider than the Cheshire Cat, dipping low to your ear to whisper, “game on, sweetheart, but we’re smokin reds not your menthol shit.”

News flash. You couldn’t out smoke Eddie. And your burning croaky throat was proof of that.

Feet on the floor, your cold toes inching towards purchase against the carpet for your slippers. Opening your eyes, you assess the room. The Eddie costume you proudly wore all night, was strewn across your floor, complete with the wig. A rumbly laugh reverberates through your lungs along with a horrendous hacking cough. The memory of Jeff wearing it and imitating Eddie jogs across your mind. The way Eddie pouted and glared through his lashes made you smile sweetly at the memory.

A quick glance at your body in the mirror shows that you’re still wearing the soft black DIO shirt from lastnight, but thankfully you changed into pajama pants.

Another rough barking cough against your already achy throat surrenders it’s vices and begs for water. Opening the door you are met with a freezing chill. Eyes blinking in the bright sun from the windows in the living room, you take note of the heaps of bodies snoring and drooling amongst the floor.

Mike and El are cuddled up like two little kittens against the back corner in the living room, her blonde wig used as a pillow, Mike’s Mad Hatter jacket and his arm draped over her. Finding yourself gawking at the sweetness of seeing them curled into each other, you wonder if you would ever have a great love like they did. Your stomach leaps when the one crossing your mind is Eddie.

It was wrong. You shouldn’t be feeling this way about your brother’s friend, your roommate for fucks sake! He was everything you hated about the male population. Loud, annoying, an absolute pervert. Messy beyond belief, couldn’t boil a goddamn egg. But, he was also gentle, kind, and caring. Your yearning heart ached for his touch like the day he held you close to his chest during your darkest hour.

Not to mention he was cute. Okay, that’s a lie. Eddie was hot, in that rugged ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ kind of way. Different from most guys in Hawkins, who were obsessed with their appearance, their family name. Eddie didn’t care, he was just himself. Always had been, always would be. And something about that cocky demeanor, burying the kindest heart you’ve ever come across, made your heart stutter in your chest.

Would he hold you like Mike was holding El if you were his? Would he cover you in kisses and do cliche things with you like matching couples costumes on Halloween? Something deep inside told you he would.

“Cute aren’t they?”

You jump out of your skin at the low, velvet voice, not realizing he was awake, your hungover mind foregoing the aroma and slow drip of black coffee being made. Too wrapped up in thinking about him to notice that he had approached you on your left, his messy curls swing against your cheek as he had bent down to your ear.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a chuckle.

You turn and look at him, he’s so close to you your noses almost touch. The tickling shock of nervousness from last night returns and travels up your spine, curling into your hair, igniting every hair follicle, a burning welcomed pleasure against your scalp. A quirked smile on his lips as you take a step back.

Blinking slow, you take him in. His smile could melt the polar ice caps, that goddamn panty dropper grin, you curse yourself silently for feeling the heat on your neck. He’s wearing black sweats, cut above the knee and rolled at the hem from many washes. A horrendously sawed off cut t-shirt adorns his broad shoulders. The same raw hems rolling inward, exposing a silver hoop in his nipple. The sun catching the steel ring and casting a blinding glare against it. He tips the coffee mug he’s holding back to his lips, emptying the contents in one gulp. The smell of potent orange juice fills your nose as you stare at his lips. His tongue poked out to lap up the last spilled drops.

“No, you’re fine—I didn’t realize you were up,” you explain, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Peering around him at the small wooden clock on the wall, it’s only 8:30, “didn’t know you were aware that there was an 8:30 AM on Sundays.”

“Are you always this witty in the morning?”

“It’s a gift,” you say with a smirk, “consider it a blessing, you’re late by the way.”

“Late for what?” The lazy way he smiles at you should be a crime.

A coy smile on your lips, “Sunday Service.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and grabs his side, wincing slightly, “agh, don’t make me laugh,” he groans, “I think I fucked up my back or something from falling down those steps last night.”

“…twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…”

Gareth turned his head from the spout engulfing deep breaths from the chilled night air. Argyle and Jonathan let his feet back down to the deck. Standing next to Nancy and Ash, you whoop and holler along with everyone else, cheering on the new Keg Stand Champion. Gareth, stands on wobbly legs, taking a deep breath, he shouts, “And that's how it’s d—“

Before he can finish his victory speech, he projectile vomits all over Big D. Covering him shoulders to waist in foamy chunks of party food and the cheap keg beer. Laughter erupts from Eddie, he throws his wild hair back in amusement. Clutching his stomach and choking on the smoke from the joint he had just inhaled. Karma, proving again that she’s a cunt, Eddie leans back just far enough to fall backwards down the five steps to the ground.

“Jesus down, Jesus down!” Eddie exclaimed, roaring with laughter.

Concerned, you delicately reach for his wrist and move his hand away from his ribs. A small splatter of deep purpling color against his alabaster skin suggests that they are more than likely bruised from the fall. The dainty touch of your fingers on his body sends goosebumps against his flesh, and it wasn’t because your hands were cold. He swallows hard, adoration in his brown eyes as he takes in your smell, how messy your hair was, the hum on your lips as you observe him, pressing the pads of your fingers into his skin.

Who would have thought that simple minuscule touches from you could cause a frenzy in his blood. He thought the hair washing would bring him to his knees, but this? He didn’t realize he stopped breathing until you spoke.

The hitch in his throat is dismissed by you, “sorry, my fingers are probably freezing,”

He murmurs, something along the lines of “it’s fine,” but you barely hear it.

His skin is surprisingly smooth. Women spend hundreds of thousands of dollars in their lifetime to have perfect skin, and here Eddie Munson was, baby soft skin on a metal head’s body. You take the time to admire the exposed tattoo on his ribs next to the bruises. Tracing your finger over the triangled black ink outlined in red, angry against his skin. You’ve seen the symbol before but never understood what it was. An eight laying sideways, in the overlapping section is a cross with two lines instead of one.

Seconds fade to minutes of your fingers tracing his skin. Neither you or Eddie have said a word. Unhurried migrations on your fingers skate across the alabaster, feeling for any broken bones, but only feeling the velour cream of his skin beneath your hands.

Clearing your throat, you look into his blown out eyes, “I —um,” the air is thick between you both, making it hard to breath, or it could be the fact that the caramel pools of his eyes are pouring into yours, “ looks like it’s just bruised,” you say, slowly moving your fingers away from his skin. Your nails scratching his skin casually. And a quick intake of breath hisses between his teeth.

Eddie’s voice comes out shakier than he would have liked, he licks his lips, “o-oh good.”

He casts his eyes downwards, his fingers tug gently at the sleeve of the DIO shirt you’re still wearing from last night. His eyes find yours again, the browned oasis beckoning you, “are you still mad at me for winning the costume contest?” he asks in almost a whisper, lips barely moving, his focus full on the way your soft skin under your shirt feels against his calloused fingers.

The jump in your lower belly ignited the flame within you, sending burning hot coals to your core at his ghosting fingers on your arm. You blink rapidly and scoff. Rolling your eyes to extinguish the flames, you force yourself away from him, brushing past him, your shoulder grazing his chest sends more fire through your veins, a last attempt on keeping the heat blazing. “I was never mad,” you explain. Opening the cabinet with shaky hands and grabbing a white mug with tiny yellow flowers on the rim, you take a deep breath to steady your voice, turning it into a makeshift yawn, “who do you think decides who wins the contest anyway?”

Pouring the hot black coffee into the mug the aroma fills the room. Creamer sloshes against the liquid mixing merrily into a toffee colored dream.

Eddie leans against the counter, taking a piece of candy from the plastic jack-o-lantern dish and twisting the ends between his fingers, the orange hardened sugar melting slow on his tongue.

“You voted for me?” he asks earnestly, his head bowed in bashfulness, “you’re going to make me blush, sweetheart,” he coos, swirling the candy around his mouth, clacking against his teeth as he tries to hide a smile.

Sipping the piping hot coffee gingerly between your lips, you shrug, “not every day I get to see you acting so holy, thought we should capitalize on the opportunity, plus, it really was one hell of a costume.”

The bubblegum blush on Eddie’s cheeks make him look like a teenager, twisting his hair as if he just received his first kiss.

“I don’t know, I kinda liked yours,” he said matter of factly.

“That’s cause you’re full of yourself,” you say with a teasing tone, sticking out your tongue, and coughing roughly again.

Eddie’s eyebrows pull inward, a mocked scoff on his lips, “I refuse to take insults from someone who sounds like my Uncle Wayne— told you you couldn’t hang with the big dogs— but no, Tooty doesn’t listen.”

You dismiss him with a suggestive middle finger and a smirk as you sip the coffee again, “I can do anything I want, you’re not my babysitter.”

Neither of you knew that Robin and Steve were both awake, listening intently to your light banter, your giggling voices as you teased each other. The way yours pitched in a high squeal when Eddie’s hands tickled your sides and you tried to fight him off with the paper towel row.

The two friends sit side by side on the couch, smiling widely at one another, wondering when you would let eachother in.

It was noon before Gareth woke up, a combination of dried puke and drool on his face. The other four party go-ers had already left and did the sad walk of shame out to their vehicles. Both Robin and Steve give you weird looks and wide glances all morning, you even noticed Steve wiggling his eyebrows.

Yawning and reeking of alcohol. The loud snores from Gareth’s slack mouth could awaken the residents lying 6 feet under in East Hawkins. He’s laying with his head in a popcorn bowl, a poorly drawn sharpie penis crudely coloring his cheek, thanks to Eddie. The cold puke slowly oozing from the bowl onto himself has your stomach lurching.

Eddie finally woke him by shaking his shoulders violently, yelling into his face, “dude! You’re gonna rattle the fucking house off the foundation with that deafening snore, Christ almighty!”

Gareth stirred alive, swinging his arms frantically. “Fuck, man, scare the hell out of me why don’t ya!”

“Oh relax, trust me— it was either this or the Tooty method,” Eddie says with a grin motioning to you standing behind his shoulder holding a cup of cold water, a devilish smirk on your face, “seriously though, get up you smell like two-week-old rotten asshole.”

After Gareth and Eddie argue over why he has a dick drawn on his face, and Eddie swearing it wasn’t him, Gareth bumps his fist into Eddie’s and waves goodbye as he stands at the front door, and addresses you, “helluva party Tooty, hopefully I didn’t make too much of a mess and you’ll invite me again next year,” his easy smile is something you’ve never seen directed at you. Of all Eddie’s bandmates, Gareth was the hardest to read.

“Duh, you’re the reigning keg stand champion, you gotta make a return,” you smile back.

Gareth laughs, his floppy thick hair matted from the habit he wore all night, “think my keg stand days are over.” He looks from you to Eddie, watching the way Eddie smiles at you adoringly, and he starts to finally get it. Understand why his friend acts the way he does around you. You’re easy to talk to, friendly, kind, once you let your guard down. He looks to Eddie again as you turn and walk back to the kitchen, giving him a knowing glance shifting his eyes to you, and nodding his head once in approval, “see ya around dickhead,” he jokes to his oldest friend, his role model, his brother.

“Why the fuck do I have to wear this?” Eddie groans, pulling at the stiff collar on his shirt, buttoned too tight around his neck, not used to material that wasn’t leather or soft cotton, the metalhead was crabby and uncomfortable in the borrowed maroon button down shirt and black skinny tie from Harrington, “I look like a bible salesmen!”

Steve’s birthday was tonight and he requested to have dinner at his favorite restaurant in Indianapolis. He had gotten a big promotion at work the week after Halloween and was in need of a little celebration before the task of being executive director started.

Slotting silver iridescent dangly earrings you had borrowed from Nancy into your ears and adjusting the matching choker against your throat, you take the last curler out from your hair and fluff it with your fingers to give it shape. You holler from closed confinements of your room, “it’s for Steve’s birthday, not your birthday— quit being a big baby!”

Stepping your tights into the borrowed black velvet pointed heels, and smoothed down the black velour mini dress with the spaghetti straps you had bought last week from an ad in the paper about selling prom dresses for cheap. The material was snug against your curves fitting like a glove. Your makeup was darker than you would have normally done on any other given day but since this was such a fancy event for one of your closest friends— you smoked out a brown eyeshadow across your lids and added a heavy coat of mascara to your lashes with a thin line of eyeliner. Your favorite lipstick swiped delicately across your lips.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you are pleased at your reflection. A patch of doubt trickles up your chest making you question if you should change. Is it too much? Is it over the top? But all that comes to a halt when loud banging is heard on your door. Stopping your spiraling shame cold in its tracks.

“Tooty?” Eddie raps on the door, “Steve just pulled up. You ready or are we leaving your ass at h—”

For the first time in Eddie’s life he is speechless. Not counting the time that his jaw was wired shut for 6 months when he took his skateboard off the roof of Gareth’s house in middle school.

Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, dry and itchy like eighty grade sandpaper. His eyebrows are lifted, tucked beneath his bangs. It’s as if everything was going in slow motion, he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, he was stunned by the drop dead gorgeous woman in front of him.

Your beauty wasn’t something that just happened in a movie with you pouncing down the stairs to some cheesy song with your friends clapping at the top and high-fiving over their “miracle makeover”. Eddie just simply wasn’t accustomed to seeing you dressed up like this.

It’s taking everything in him to not spring forward like a rabid dog and close the gap between you. Slot his lips against yours. A desperate, needy kiss so full of urgency that your head would spin. He’d keep you in the spinning wonderland until both of you were seconds from passing out. Dizzy from the floating clouds and blissful euphoria soaring around in his arms. He wants to grab your waist, wants to fist his fingers around the nape of your neck, wants to see the way your mouth would open with a gasp as he kissed your collar bone, so sweetly, so delicately— his name a whisper on your breath. He’d kiss your lips until they were chapped, sore, and tender to match his. Then he’d kiss them better, his lips the antidote, curing your craved pain.

He’d give anything— his van, his guitar, the band whatever it took— just to get a taste. In this dream land he’s everything you wanted, everything you needed. You loved him, adored him. Accepted his flaws, his past, his scars. He’d hold you tight while you slept, your head tucked into the crook of his neck, stealing sleepy kisses on your hair, enamored by the perfume of your hair, intoxicated, drugged by the lust of your skin. He’d learn how to cook, make you delicious meals, clean the house, do the laundry, be the perfect man. All for you.

He wanted to feel your body forming and molding around him. Yearned to know the valleys of your body, each curve, each beauty mark, each scar visible or not. If it weren’t for his heart hammering into his ears he would have thought he had gone deaf for sure.

You’re talking but he can’t hear you.

He’s still in the dream land, dancing on Saturn’s rings, cooling his feet in Jupiter’s springs, holding your hand and taking you higher with him. Your smile taking flight in his chest and ascending you along the majestic sights of the Milky Way. Completely gone from this world. A world where you were his, and he was yours.

The more he fantasizes it— the more the impossibility of this dream increases. His bravado falls, crashing through the sparkly dream with fluffy clouds, falling further down. Away from you. Away from the dream he wanted, craved to be reality.

He fell through the clouds, clinging to your fingers, would you reach out for him? Help him? Save him?

Would you ever want to be his? He was Eyeball’s friend, Prince of the Trailer Park, probably annoyed you more than Eyeball himself did. You were beautiful and put together, and him? He was lint in the dryer, causing house fires when forgotten about. Voted most likely to end up in prison for the graduating class of ‘85 and ‘86. A failure, a crack in the sidewalk you’d avoid to break your mother’s back as a kid.

Avoid the trailer park trash. Avoid Eddie Munson.

So he pushed the thoughts away, the ooey galaxy of cotton candy trees and rainbow lollipops— fading back to black as he fell faster harder, back to reality. The dead, decaying ashen life of shitville Hawkins, Indiana. Where reality came in the form of working long days to barely survive. A name branded to his soul, weathered and tarnished like forgotten silverware in a rich dementia riddled woman’s home.

Nothing. Munson trash. The town freak. Social outcast. Scum in the drain. Bastard child.

“Earth to Eddie!”

A snap of your fingers and the impatient wrinkles between your brow bring his soul back to his body.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, wiping his clammy palms on the thighs of the cleanest pair of black jeans he owned, “We—uh,” blush creeps to his cheeks, adamant to push it down, to the cobwebbed box in his brain that never opened, he grabs your hand and starts to yank you towards the door, a gruff annoyance in his voice, “let’s go.”

You’re crestfallen.

Oblivious to his inner intergalactic battles of hoping that he was good enough for you but deep down knowing he never would be.

Not anywhere near the suaveness of Casanova he pretends to possess on most days, motor-mouth Munson was all out of gas. Spending his last tank, last drop of fuel taking you to the moon and spinning you amongst the stars.

Steve is wearing a black suit, standing against a new SUV, shiny ink black like the velvet of your dress, and the pretty girl’s hair standing next to him, she’s wearing a purple velour sweetheart neckline dress, with rhinestone straps, her shoulders are bare until the dress continues to cover her arms, into a full sleeve. Robin is hanging out of the back passenger side window, a tie hung loosely around her neck and a white button down tailored shirt adorning her body. Waving a bottle of Boonesfarm around.

“Come on! Let’s party like it’s 1984! Before Steve had this new bitchin’ car and still half of his virgini—“

“Robin!” Steve scolds, threading his fingers through his hair, the girl on his arm shooting Robin a pleasurable laugh, her hand on Steve’s chest.

Eddie is still dragging you along, hurrying you along. In a rush but not saying a word. “Eddie, Jesus Christ, stop, I have to get my purse,” you yank your wrist from his grip and take a step backward. Silent and fuming, your arms crossed over your chest. Looking up at him with water brimmed eyes, corners of your mouth turned downward in a confused frown.

It’s the same expression he had seen during the first few days he had moved in, when he hurt you.

Shaking his head with a huff he descends the concrete steps and stands next to Robin, clutching the Boonesfarm bottle and taking a long hefty swig, wallowing in his own self pity and self doubt of never being good enough for you.

Of course this is how it would be with you. Why would you ever want him when there are people like Steve Harrington in the world. Offering you anything and everything you could ever need. And what could he offer you? Nothing. A tainted name and a ring pop replacing a diamond.

He wasn’t good enough for Chrissy, wasn’t good enough for Trish. How would you be any different? Swallowing his pride with each swig of the sugary Boonesfarm, he tries his hardest to push the idea of you wanting to be with him, wanting anything other than someone to take up space and pay rent on time, out of his mind.

“Tooty,” Steve says, waving you over once you shut the door to the house and locked it, “Eddie, this is Leighanne, my girlfriend.”

A smile breaks on your face, pure unadulterated joy for your friend. The way his face lit up saying girlfriend, the way they’re clutched together, a perfect match, him looking adoringly into her face, staring in wonder and awe as she beams a radiating light back up to him— it’s sugar sweet.

A low ache in your chest fires again, whatever had burned for Eddie was now boiling on high heat but the pot was empty.

You thought that maybe he… hadn’t he? The bitter truth stinging your tongue, not admitting it to yourself. Not allowing yourself to think any further on the subject, you extend your smile to Leighanne. Pleasantries in your voice as you push down your own worrying heart and open it up to hear all about how Leighanne and Steve met.

“Damn, new fancy job and a car to match— never seen one of these in real life before Harrington.”

Steve dives into the story of him trading in his car for the G Wagon, a year old and less than 10,000 miles. Eddie asked questions and walked around the vehicle with Steve as he kicked the tires and inspected the paint job.

The ride to Indianapolis was full of Leighanne’s bright laugh, teasing Steve and joking with Robin. Her fingers never unlaced from his. She was funny, charismatic in a way that complimented Steve. You’re stuffed in the middle in the backseat. Robin on your left and Eddie on your right, preoccupied with staring out the window.

He’s brooding, steeping like a tea bag in the heat of the sun. Only he’s cold, off putting and sulking. Not engaging once in conversation other than. Answering yes or no to Steve’s questions, giving little up.

And you were doing the same, trying hard to focus on what Robin and Leighanne were giggling about but finding Eddie’s bad mood taking you over. His pitch black aura sucking you in and consuming you. Dampening the celebratory night for your friend that hasn’t even begun because he’s irritated by God knows what. It’s the longest ride to Indianapolis you’ve experienced yet.

The restaurant is burnt brick with an old prohibition era feel to it. Low jazz music is playing by a live band in the back corner. Reservations for Harrington bring the five of you to a secluded area low lit with hues of blacks and coppers and mahogany wood filling the space, setting the ambience for a private affair. The round table is set with a cream colored silk cloth that alone probably cost more than the value of your house.

Steve pulls out a chair for Leighanne. A pinky rouge on her cheeks as she sits down delicately. Robin climbs next to her, body angled towards her, her feet on the seat of her chair.

Taking the seat next to Robin, Eddie takes the seat next to you, angling it ever so slightly away from you, his right elbow on the table, head facing away from you.

What the fuck?

Two waiters arrive holding a large round platter filled with various selections of wines, whiskey, and beers in stout glasses. Each one filled to the brim of the finest liquor ranging in black browned ale to lighter amber on one side, the others full of their house made brew, an inch head of foam in each glass, and wine ranging from white to a deep burgundy red.

Before the waiter can even walk away Eddie has two glasses of the dark colored whiskey in front of him, shooting them down like he’s at a high school party and has a curfew. “Shit man, these are for sipping, ya gotta ease into it a little,” Steve says with a chuckle. Eddie grabs another glass from the circle of the platter, sipping it slow between his lips, letting the fervor of the liquor burn his mouth, welcoming the burn.

Eddie hasn’t said a word to you all night. In fact— he’s ignoring you. Usually the first to start joking around, he’s completely sullen, sinking into his bad mood letting the veil of self loathing cover himself like a blanket, choking his insides. He’d converse with everyone but you. “Can you pass the pepper,” you’d asked after laughing obnoxiously with Leighanne about how Steve couldn’t throw a punch to save his life.

Silence.

“Eddie?” You ask again, “can you please pass me the pepper?”

Another ignored moment of silence from the brooding metalhead.

“Eddie! Hello!?”

Nothing.

A swift kick from Steve to the shins finally roused him alive, blinking his eyes slowly away from his glass, thumb moving over the condensation. “Dude—Tooty needs the pepper.”

Eddie looks at the pepper shaker with hooded, bored eyes, far from the conversation around the table. Trapped in the black box of dread in his mind. He scoots it closer to you but not enough by far. Scooting your chair back with a screech, you stand and lean across him, fully in his space. Encroaching on his doomed self with your perfume wafting into his nose. Your hairspray stinging his eyes when your hair brushes over your shoulder in front of him. It’s intoxicating. The way your necklace catches the light, as you lean over him hits his chest like a lightning bolt. b

A quick turn of your face and he catches your glare, heated and angry, but his eyes are soft, solemn, sad.

“Thanks, Eddie— really appreciate you helping me out there. Next time I’ll just lay across the table when I need something, or I could simply go fuck myself if that’s easier for you? Don’t want to interrupt whatever the fuck you’ve got going on.” you spit, venom on your lips dripping from your teeth as you aggressively shake the pepper on the salad.

Eddie stands abruptly, “going for a smoke,” he says to nobody in particular, Steve stands and follows him out, with the helping nudge of Leighanne’s elbow in his ribs.

The two guys strut outside, breathing in the night air, a flick of lighters and the burning, crinkling sound of the end of two cigarettes fills the almost barren sidewalk. A minute or so passes before Steve speaks first, “nice night out, considering it’s the middle of November.”

Eddie only nods, inhaling the smoke and trying to relax.

“You alright?”

Again, Eddie only answers with body movements, shrugging his shoulders, blowing smoke through his nose.

Steve inhaled his cigarette slow, “Tooty looks nice tonight.”

Eddie bites his bottom lip and rubs his eyes with this thumb. Smoke curling around him in a makeshift halo. “Yeah,” he finally speaks, nodding his head, a huffed chuckle on his lips, “she does, doesn’t she?”

“What’s going on, man?” Steve questions, “last I knew you were head over heels for her— now you’re ignoring her and acting like a jackass in there.” He says pointing to the door, “you’re gonna fuck this up before you’ve even let it start!”

Eddie shoves himself off the wall, the cobwebs on the box in his mind where he stored his pain, were wiped away, fingerprints on the lid, “oh give it up, Harrington.” Rubbing his hands down his face with a groan, “I’m— fuck, I’m so fucking stupid. Falling for someone like her.”

“What do you mean someone like her?” Steve asks frustrated, “fuck man you really are dumb aren’t you?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his chest puffed out in confusion, “this isn’t like some magic eight ball shaking it to see if your crush likes you Steve! That’s not how shit works!”

“You’re a dumbass! Even I can see that she’s hurt by the way you’re acting!” Steve shouts, stomping out his cigarette.

“Dude I’m not talking about this right now, back off,” Eddie pleads, flicking his cigarette into the street and attempting to walk around Steve.

“Why are you being an asshole and trying to shove her away?” Steve goads.

“I’m not.” Lid is off the box, contents exposed.

“Don’t be a douche fucking tell me!”

“Because she’s too fucking good for me!” Eddie finally screams into the night, throwing his hands up in the air.

The box is dumped out. Contents spilled out in his mind, hurt behind his eyes, for anyone to see.

He hangs his head, shoulders slumped forward, he slides down the wall and sits on the cool concrete, breathing heavily, “She’s— fuck, she’s never gonna want to be with someone like me, man.”

All of his self doubt from earlier tonight, all the pain he’s ever felt from being a neglected child, an outcast in school amongst his peers, being cheated on, lied to— it all came crashing down around him. All the alcohol he consumed wasn’t helping matters either.

He was a failure, in more ways than he could count. Twenty-six and just freshly moved out of his uncle’s place. Twenty-six and still playing in a band at the bar on the weekends. Twenty-six and still alone. Horribly, utterly, bitterly alone. Drowning himself in groupie pussy every night before he moved in with you. He hated himself.

“Has she said that? Did you ever think that maybe she doesn’t care what anyone else thinks? You think it was easy for her to stay in Hawkins after her parents up and left? After Kevin was thrown in prison? After that piece of shit Chad Cunningham hurt her? If there’s anything we know about Tooty it’s that she’s a fighter, she could have left at any time, packed her shit and never looked in the rear view mirror. But you and I know that she’s too damn stubborn to let Hawkins get the best of her.”

Eddie lifts his head, looking at Steve sitting beside him.

“She needs you, man, you’re good for her.”

Mansion dreams on a trailer park budget. He could never afford the things you deserved. He loathed the thought of anyone else being able to give you the things he couldn’t, the pit of his stomach rolling.

“I don’t know, Steve,” Eddie says, timidly throwing his curly head against the brick behind him, “I saw her today all dressed up looking so absolutely gorgeous, and it hit me, I could never give her the life she deserves.”

“Come on, man,” Steve chides, knocking his shoulder to Eddie’s, “you really think I would have told you about her needing a roommate and insisting that you go and look at the house, if I didn’t think you’d be good for each other?”

Eddie shrugs his shoulders again, the self doubt creeping back, putting the box back together.

“After Nancy moved out, I knew she was scared— she’d never say anything about it, but we worried about it. She needed someone around who she could trust. Robin and I couldn’t get out of our lease, but then you told me you were looking for a place, and honestly there isn’t anyone better for her than you.”

Eddie thinks on this for a few seconds. Steve was right, he did fuck this up. “Christ, she’s probably madder than hell at me right now,” he says with a groan.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, standing and holding out a hand for Eddie, “you’ve got some making up to do.”

“Am I drunk, or is he acting weird as hell tonight, like more weird than usual?” Robin slurs, almost falling out of her seat as she whisper-yells across the table at you the minute Steve follows Eddie out the door.

“Oh, honey,” Leighanne whispers, holding Robin by her arm and guiding her back into the chair, “you’re very drunk, but also I’ve never met him, but he seems sad.”

Stewing in a pot of shame and regret, you try to tune Robin and Leighanne out. A shiver of hatred stirs in your chest, pulling at your heart strings and gnawing on the fleshy stretch cords until they’re rotting, black and withered.

How silly of you to be so nervous about wearing this dress, when Eddie only took one look at you and immediately turned sour. How stupid of you to think that he had somehow turned into a decent human being, a friend, a confidant, a shoulder to cry on when you were desperate and needing consoling. How fucking dumb of you to be so mad in this moment that he was ignoring you, acting like a complete jerk and ruining this nice evening by being a pouty child.

Fuck him, and fuck this.

Reaching for the now warm wine you toss it back, chugging until your throat ached. It’s easier to swallow than the embarrassing way you thought that Eddie was growing to like you. Your mistake.

Won’t happen again.

By the time the guys come back, you were slightly buzzed, feeling giggling with the bubbling of the flutes of champagne that had been brought out after the dinner was cleared from the table.

Steve slaps Eddie on the back and shakes his shoulders a bit, sitting down quickly beside Leighanne and whispering into her ear, she turns scarlet red as he nudges his nose down to kiss her neck. You turn your face away, ashamed again, for wanting a love like that so bad, yet sold short.

“You okay?” Robin asks Eddie. You can feel eyes on you, burning into the side of your face, but you won’t give him the time of day. To hell with him.

He answers her back, making up some lame excuse about not feeling good as to why he was acting like an asshole all night.

“Hmm,” you hum, raising your eyebrows and huffing. Tossing your napkin from your lap onto the table, grabbing another flute of champagne and downing it instantly, crossing your legs and leaning further away from him. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Tooty?” His voice is soft, dipped in butter and spread across a warm croissant. Almost timid the way he’s barely speaking above a whisper, you pretend not to hear him.

A nudge in your side goes unanswered as you turn your face towards an almost passed out Robin. Another poke to the ribs, a ticklish spot for anyone. A tap on your hand, fervent and annoying, your name repeated in high and low tones, as you actively avoid him. He finally stops, and when he does you take a shaky breath, right as your chair is flung backwards on the back legs, and you’re suddenly upside down, peering into Eddie’s face. That cocky Munson grin plastered onto it, the one you haven’t seen all night, sends shock waves to your core, and a burn to your chest.

Goddamn him.

“Put me down,” you emphasize with bitterness behind each word.

Eddie smiles widely, “not until you talk to me, sweetheart,”

“Oh look at that everyone, the pouting child act is over, guess we are blessed after all,” you spit back, crossing your arms and trying to wriggle the chair free.

His smile is pulled back slightly, voice dipped low as he leans forward slightly, “can we talk? Privately?”

You glare back at him, venomous cold eyes peering into his, hoping he understood how annoyed and hurt you were with the bullshit he’d been pulling for hours, “Congratulations on finding your voice Ariel, but if you don’t put my chair down I’ll—“

“What? You’ll do what?” Eddie bickers back with a grin, leaning closer you can smell his musky cologne, and the burnt scent of his cigarette on his breath. He enjoys watching you squirm and get pissed off at him. Something about the way you scold him sends him over the moon.

But, he could never anticipate what you would do next.

His hands on the back of your chair, you turn your head in a swift motion and find his thumb and bite down on it until he squeals and yelps in pain.

“…bite you,”

Instinct taking over Eddie pulls his hands from the back of your chair. And you start tumbling backwards. Falling falling, reaching backwards, you grab onto the first thing you can get your frantic hands on.

It all happens too fast, one minute you’re falling backwards, the next your fingers are gripped tight on the buckle of Eddie’s belt. Your breath hitched in your chest, as you grappled to stay upwards. In a swift motion Eddie grabs under your arms and the chair falls to the ground.

Eddie pulls you up, your body skimming his as he turns you around to face him. “Damn, I’m right here. No need to get so handsy,” he murmurs in a low husky laugh.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, sudden shock of fear fading from your body as you look into his face. Even though he’s laughing, his pupils are blown and dark, eyebrows twisted inward, and raised, pulled into concern.

“Fuck Munson,” you say, straightening your dress, trying not to melt from the heat of Eddie’s hands on your waist, “trying to kill me?” The room was spinning, you hadn’t hit your head, but maybe the rush of falling backwards mixed with the alcohol you had drank was a combination for a migraine. Definitely not the way he was lazily drinking you in, his lips stretching into a wide, pretty smile.

“Kill you?” He scoffs, hands still heavy on your waist, rubbing slow circles with his thumbs, sending your nerves into a fizzing frenzy of want. “I’m not the one biting others, kitten.”

Of all the nicknames Eddie has called you— princess, sweetheart, baby— kitten was a new one. And you’re ashamed at the pulse in your core and the heat in your cheeks as his eyes twinkle like brown Christmas lights back at you, the flick of his tongue against his lips almost sends you into cardiac arrest.

“Hey—“ Steve interrupts, stepping into your peripheral vision, “—don’t mean to break this up—but we have a problem.”

“Alright guys, good news or bad news?”

Steve steps through the lobby door to the sidewalk, where you, Leighanne, Robin and Eddie were all waiting for him. The chill of the night air is biting through your tights and stinging your cheeks. Even in the cozy musky warmth of Eddie’s leather jacket that he insisted on you wearing, after listening to your chattering teeth for ten minutes, “here,” he announced, stopping abruptly and shucking the jacket off his arms, and wrapping it around your shoulders, “I swear you’re gonna chip your teeth with the way you’re chattering them, it’s annoying,” he said in a faux grumble, his voice mean but his face lighting up when you hurriedly slot your arms through his jacket. Inhaling his smoke musk and cool leather combination as it dizzied your mind.

Ever since the restaurant kicked you all out on account of being too drunk, you’d been walking to a hotel. The restaurant manager had refused to let Steve get his car from the valet because they thought he was too intoxicated to drive. And also denied him from using the phone to hail a cab. There was no other choice.

So that's what led you all here. Walking fifteen blocks— in heels, dresses and fancy shirts, to the nearest hotel. Well technically thirty blocks because the waiter gave Steve the wrong directions. Everyone was freezing, tired and crabby. The drunken happy stage left about twenty blocks back.

“Bad news, Harrington hit me,” Eddie gripes.

Steve brushes his fingers through his hair, “Okay, uhh—bad news… there’s only one room available, with two beds.”

“But, there’s one… two…three..four.. six of us!” Robin counts, hiccuping loudly and letting a giggle escape her slack mouth. Maybe the restaurant wasn’t wrong in kicking you all out after all.

“No— there’s five of us, but there is a chair!” Steve chimes, “that’s the good news!”

You knew what that meant, obviously you would be sharing a bed with Robin or Eddie, and given the fact that Robin was probably a good ten minutes away before she started throwing up like she was notorious for— you were about to share a bed with Eddie.

The room was small but decent. Maroon, itchy bedspreads with pilling fabric sat atop the beds, white linen sheets and overly stuffed pillows with matching cases shoved into the perfectly made beds. A tiny tv sat atop a chestnut dresser complete with channel listings and a remote velcroed to it. Leighanne crosses the room and immediately finds the furnace, cranking it up as high as it will go and shutting the drapes, she sits on the bed furthest from it, and begins taking her earrings out of her ears. Sighing with relief as the heavy dangly bejeweled gems clink onto the bedside table. Steve sits beside her, leaning forward and grabbing her ankle, delicately sliding the strappy heels from her sore feet, rubbing them between his hands and murmuring apologies to her, kissing her shoulder.

Eddie is kicking the toe of his boot into the carpet, hands pushed into his pockets and looking downward. The awkward question of who-will-sleep-where is weighing heavy on your mind, just when you’re about to ask him what he thinks, Robin pushes between you both and makes a mad dash to the bathroom. Like clockwork.

“I’m never letting her drink again!” Steve says with a huff, “every time, she does this every single time!”

You snort out an exhausted giggle, this night went to hell in a handbasket the minute you left Hawkins. The only thing left to do was laugh about it.

Leaning your body against the wall, you carefully step out of your heels, the dingy carpet a glorious welcome to your aching feet. Stretching your toes out and wiggling them against the carpet brings a sigh to your lips.

Body tired from the constant shivering and cramped calves, you couldn’t wait to get the dress off and feel the warmth of the blanket around you, cocooning yourself like a caterpillar in a chrysalis.

Fuck.

You didn’t have any clothes with you, just the dress you were wearing, tights and a black thong. If it was Eddie you’d be sharing a bed with, what the hell were you supposed to wear? The thought hadn’t even trickled into your mind until this very second as you noticed Eddie unlace his boots.

Panic riddles your body, fuck would you lay naked next to him? Should you keep the dress on?

“Hey,” Eddie whispers into your ear, reigning you back in with his velvet voice, “there’s a vending machine by the elevator, wanna come with me?”

His lips contort into a smirk, and his hair wisps against your cheek, tickling your skin as you turn into him. Still wearing his jacket the neckline covers your mouth and nose as you nod your head yes.

The low pile fibers of the emerald and turquoise hallway carpet feels plush and luxurious against your nylon toes. A welcomed dream to your throbbing feet. You focus on the intricate leaves pattern as you walk the hallway with Eddie, his socked feet thudding along softly in tandem with yours.

The silence is deafening, and you can practically hear your heart beat out of your chest when his knuckles ever so gently, ever so delicately, graze yours as he swings his hand when he walks.

“Think it’s this way,” Eddie says pointing a thick ringed finger down a hallway at a T intersection. “I’m so hungry I’m going to eat the carpet if I don’t find something to eat.”

“Should have ate while we were at the restaurant,” you poke at him, “but you were too busy being an asshole.”

Eddie chokes out a throaty laugh, “I saved your life, Tooty— how am I still an asshole?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call me-falling-because-you-tipped-my-chair-backwards saving my life, but whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” you barely choke out the last part before you burst into a too-tired giggle, hiding your mouth with the collar of his jacket.

His own nickname on your lips burns his insides, mocking or not he wanted to hear it again and again.

“You fight dirty, I had no idea you were into biting.” Eddie teases, his eyes bright and playful matching his smirk, the vending machine comes into view and his eyes light up even more, “oh fuck yeah, come to daddy!”

The black vending machine is lit with a flickering light over head. Eddie thumbs through his wallet and grabs out ten one dollar bills.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Eddie crooned, “pick your vice.”

Deciding on a package of orange squared crackers with cheese, Eddie buys a bag of chocolate cookies, chips, and two bags of candy.

Carrying five cans of pop from the pop machine and Eddie’s plethora of snacks, both of your arms are full.

“So back to you assaulting me—I’m going to take your dental record down to Hopper— I’m turning you in.”

Laughing harder than anyone should have at midnight, your laugh echoes off he walls and bounces around the hallway. Making Eddie’s heart soar with glee. “Turning me in huh?”

Eddie knocks his shoulder into yours, throwing you off balance slightly, “yeah, I’m turning you in, you could have rabies! And I could start foaming at the mouth in my sleep, you’re dangerous and when I get home I’m taking you to the vet!”

The flirty banter is undeniable between you, his giggles match yours as you pad slowly down the hallway. Cheeks burning, coy smiles filling the empty hallway.

Stopping in the hallway with one hip thrown out and a perfectly placed look of innocence on your face you ask in the sweetest voice you could muster, “I’m dangerous? Me?” Making sure you bat your lashes and pout your bottom lip.

Here it was, his opportunity to show you what you really meant to him. No longer laughing, his face turns very serious. Shuffling the snacks around in his arms so he has a hand free, he reaches up to your face, tracing the outline of your jaw and brushing the pad of his thumb delicately against your cheek.

“Baby,” he whispers, that velvet smooth voice on his tongue, eyes dipped in gold and yearning into your own, “I wouldn’t turn this cute face in even if you murdered that son-of-a-bitch, Mr. Derry.”

Heart rate increases, you’re sure there's a pulse where Eddie’s hand is placed on your cheek. The calloused pads of his thumbs stroking your cheek has you weak in the knees. Tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“Cute?” You exclaim, feigning shock, heat trickling up your neck and planting itself into your cheeks, the warmth spreading below Eddie’s hand.

His eyes are trained on yours, flicking from your lips and back up again, and you know whatever he says next 100%, without a doubt shouldn’t be taken lightly.

“Tooty,” Eddie breathes, his voice melting around you, forming to every cell in your body and holding you tight. “You’re beautiful, and not just tonight…every single day.”

No one.

Not your parents.

Definitely, not Chad.

Nobody.

Has ever uttered those words to you. The final wall around your heart falls, crumbling at the base with Eddie holding a sledge hammer to it, begging to be let in.

This menace, prick, pervert, absolutely disgusting man. Has made you fall for him and without words has made it clear that he’s falling for you too.

Butterflies tickle your stomach the rest of the walk back to the room.

Steve and Leighanne are already asleep by the time you make it back, she’s wrapped tight against his bare chest, a hand threaded at the nape of his neck and through the tufts of his chest hair. His lips lay lazily against her forehead.

Robin took the comforter from the other bed and made a makeshift bed in the tub, Eddie places a can of 7-UP next to her, rustling her hair and making sure she’ll be okay for the night.

Flipping through the channels and leaning your back against the headboard, you find an episode of the Golden Girls, opening your snack crackers and nibbling into them,a can of Pepsi nestled between your knees. Eddie runs and jumps onto the bed beside you and starts ripping open his snacks, starting with the chips, and cracking open a can of Mountain Dew. Chugging the lime colored liquid until it drops down his chin.

He lets out a louder than life belch and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Looking over at you to see if you’re impressed.

You raise up ten fingers and clap, applauding his behavior.

“I’d like to thank my fans, and the Pepsi company, for encouraging the best of burps, with the help of carbonation.” He bows and waves like he’s at the academy awards and you giggle along with him.

You both stay like that for a while, on top of the blankets, watching the Golden Girls and eating snacks, content with filling your stomachs with crappy food and over carbonated beverages.

The looming idea of sleeping in the same bed with Eddie is no longer something you can avoid, when a loud yawn escapes your body and has you snuggling deeper into his leather jacket.

“I—I can sleep in the chair, or on the floor.” He says quickly.

The idea of him sleeping on the floor or with a strained neck in the office chair is unacceptable to you. “No, you can sleep in the bed with me, we can—“ thinking fast for an easy solution, “we can just use different blankets.”

“Oh good,” Eddie whispers, taking off his already loosened tie, and unbuttoning his shirt, “because I would bet a million dollars that you’re a blanket thief.”

Laughing and unzipping his leather jacket, you smirk, hanging it on the back of the chair, “how do you have the vocabulary of a ten year old and a foul sailor all at the same time?”

Eddie unzips his pants and untangles his legs from the dark denim, sitting on the bed with a groan in just his boxer briefs, “I’m like a poor Peter Pan, who grew up on the wrong side of tracks, I’ll never grow up.”

Foregoing any previous thoughts of keeping the dress on, you decide to take it off, exhausted from the night, the cold seeping into your bones and chilling them made you almost delirious with needing sleep, “Can you—will you close your eyes?” You ask in a hushed voice, “at least until I lay down?”

Eddie yanks hard on the sheet and wraps it around his head in a giant makeshift blindfold. “Will this work?”

This angle gives you free range to see his body. It’s not as if you haven’t seen him like this before, but this time it felt different. Every inch of his creamed colored skin, every inky smoked out line of tattoos, the veins protruding from his muscled arms, the ruddy roughness of his knuckles, ghosting with the silver rings on his fingers and in his nipples. The fading sun colored bruises on his ribs. You could write sonnets on the way his breath expands his chest and falls back flush with the rest of his body.

It’s hard to peel your eyes away, but you manage, grabbing your dress by the bottom hem lifting it off of your body. Sliding the tights down your legs until you are completely naked besides the silk black thong. Covering yourself with the off white cotton threaded blanket on the bed, you wrap it around you and sit delicately on the other side of the bed, facing the window, and the furnace.

“I’m done,” you announce, laying your head onto the goose feather pillow and facing Eddie, curling your legs to your chest. Taking slow breaths through your nose to even out your nerves and settle yourself down, the excitement of laying next to Eddie in a bed with both of you only wearing underwear has your body throbbing.

“Finally!” He exaggerates, “were you wearing a dress from the 1800s with all those fancy layers?”

“I was having some trouble with the zipper,” you lie.

“Funny—“ Eddie preens, “I didn’t see a zipper on your dress.”

The idea of him watching you, eyes stuck on your silhouette all night, through dinner, walking to the hotel, makes you feel less bad about staring at him before you crawled into bed. You clench your thighs together.

“How would you know there wasn’t a zipper? Unless of course— you were gawking.”

Two can play this game, and what Eddie didn’t realize is that you’d gotten pretty good at bantering with him.

“Why would you say your dress had a zipper when it didn’t? Maybe you were the one gawking, I mean I get it sweetheart, I’m funny and sexy. Double whammy.”

“Good night, Eddie.” You say with a final laugh. “And I swear to God, if this bed starts jerking in any way—I’ll shave your head and bleach your eyebrows.”

He lets out a laugh loud enough that it makes Steve roll over, scolding you both, about the time and needing to get some sleep. Always in mom mode.

“Sorry dad,” Eddie whispers, giggling like a little kid as he tucks himself in, and turns off the tv and the light between the two beds.

You close your eyes and breathe deeply, allowing sleep to take over your body. Sleep finds you quickly, a deep dreamless sleep, you aren’t sure if you’re awake or not when you feel a pair of lips on the crown of your hair line, a hand moving your hair away from your face, and a voice whispering to you, “good night, pretty girl.”

The next morning, Steve drops you and Eddie off at your house. The ride home seemed to drag on forever, everyone was hungover and trying to stay awake. Robin having her head out of the window for most of the drive. Still gagging from the night before.

Getting into Hawkins, Eddie turns towards you, a menacing smirk on his lips and a devil gleam in his eyes, “rock, paper scissors for dibs on first shower?”

“You’re on Munson,”

“I just don’t understand how paper beats rock!” Eddie complains as he takes a piss talking to you as you take a shower. The humidtiy from the bathroom moistens his curls, frizzing them into oblivion, “in what fucking universe does a paper lying over a goddamn rock win?”

Placing the razor against the white pillowy peaks of the shaving cream you slide it up your leg, careful to not cut your knee. “Don’t be a sore loser because you chose rock three times in a row.

“It’s the most common way to win!” He whines, slamming the toilet seat down and plopping himself on top of it. “Are you almost done? I feel like I’ve been freezing for 24 hours, I never warmed up lastnight.”

Rinsing the last bit of conditioner from your hair you turn the water off, throwing a hand out from the shower curtain to reach for your robe, wrapping it around you tightly, and opening the shower, you notice that Eddie looks paler than usual.

“Are you getting sick?” You place the back of your hand on his forehead, it’s clammy and abnormally warm. The twinkle he almost always has in his eyes is gone, he looks rundown. “In the nicest way possible, you look like hell.”

“I feel like shit,” Eddie complains.

“Here,” you offer, starting the water for him, “take a hot shower and I’ll go make us some food.”

When Eddie gets out of the shower the kitchen smells of sweet thick batter, sprinkled with a hint of cinnamon. The waffle iron you had bought with Nancy before Halloween worked like a dream, it was in better condition than you had thought.

Two plates are sitting on the counter, as Eddie walks into the kitchen, wearing a hoodie and sweats, he comes behind you, moving your hips gently to the side as he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re making.

“Waffles?!” He squeals into your ear, “I didn’t know we even had a waffle press thing,” he says, messing up your still damp hair with a tousle, “wait is that the thing that’s kept in the bathroom under the sink?”

Racking your brain you try to envision what he’s thinking of, “no Eddie that would be Nancy’s hot rollers, for her hair..”

“Well that’s not edible,” he says walking to the fridge and pulling out his jug of milk.

Hollering over your shoulder and opening the waffle iron to carefully remove the perfect round breakfast delicacy from the iron with a fork, you announce, “that’s why they’re in the bathroom, under the sink. I bought the waffle iron when Nancy and I went shopping a few weeks ago, how are you feeling?”

Taking a big gulp of milk Eddie mutters, “better, much better, I’m just really tired.”

Plating the waffles and getting the syrup from the cabinet you set the plates down at the table, bringing over two glasses and two sets of silverware, “can you grab the orange juice, and the butter?”

Bringing the requested items to the table, Eddie sets them down, next to the napkin holder. Grabbing a knife hastily and spreading the pale yellow butter around the crispy pockets of the waffle, melting into delicious puddles of savory goodness, awaiting the courtship to be reunited with the sticky sweet syrup to combine into heavenly wedded bliss.

Cutting his waffle and diving in, the kitchen is surrounded by sound of Eddie’s satisfied moans, “fuck,” he cries with a mouthful of food, shoveling more in, “this is so fucking good, you’re a saint— no no! Wait, an angel.”

The waffles were good, the perfect amount of crispy and soft. Eddie finished both of his waffles in record time.

“So where did you get this thing?” he asked curiously, pointing to the waffle iron on the counter.

“With Nancy—oh! I completely forgot!” you say excitedly, “I got a record too, it’s by the rest of them near your record player, I didn’t want to use it and break it.”

Eddie pads over to the record player and thumbs through the stack on the shelf.

He had already been staring at the record for over a minute before you spoke again, saying his name asking if he wanted another waffle.

“Damn,” he interrupts you sniffing loudly, “I haven’t heard this since…”

He carefully pulls the sleeve from the record and slots it in place, putting the needle in place. The soft twang of Bobbie Gentry’s guitar plays as she plucks the strings, a few beats in and her sultry, smoky voice begins singing, retelling the story of the day she found out the fate of Billie Joe.

Eddie sits cross legged on the floor next to the record player, staring in awe. His socked feet tucked under his thighs. Elbows digging into his legs.

His mind drifts to a small house on the outskirts of Hawkins, the paint peeling and chipping away, a dog named Ruby running alongside him as he pedals his bike up the dirt lane.

She was standing in the kitchen, her soft brown curls waving behind her as she ashed a cigarette and cut his ham sandwich into squares, taking the crust off. She hummed along to the waning wonky tunes of the radio as Bobbie Gentry sang about Billie Joe. Her smile fading in his memory.

He never allowed himself to think of her. Despite what Uncle Wayne and the therapist at the stuffy office with the seafoam green painted walls, the cheerful posters with kids and their perfect families staring at him as he glared at the floor, toe of his converse trying to dig a hole through the tile. It only brought him sadness. It was something he couldn’t talk about, not to anyone. The panic attacks in the night when he dreamt of the day she was taken from him, right in front of his big doe eyes, would send Wayne into a frenzy. Helping Eddie breath, making the small child ground himself with his surroundings. So he moved on, throwing himself into music, and his friends. Anything to keep his mind from thinking of that day. But here in your living room, twenty years later, it was all he could think of.

Her perfume, hints of jasmine and lilac a tinge of cigarette smoke underneath. The way her glasses were perched on her head as she read through the paper. Her light brown eyes, like caramel apples you’d see at the fair. Her long fingers always thumping along to whatever song she heard. The gift of a piano player. The way she would dance with him in the living room, barefoot and giggly as she swung him around and around. Those were the good memories, the ones before she was ripped away from him.

The song finishes and Eddie leans up onto his knees, placing the needle to replay it again, this time the warm tears are flowing freely, running down his cheeks. He no longer cared if you saw him cry like a baby.

You’re standing at the edge of the kitchen watching him. You figured his mom was dead by the way he never mentioned her. Chrissy once asked him about his parents after he mentioned his Uncle Wayne, and he blew it off, like he blew off lots of things, “shit, think she joined the circus, married the world’s strongest man.” You wonder if the fib was easier for him to tell himself. Rather have her still around, happy and breathing than what she actually was. You’ve only seen him like this one other time and that was after you saw Chad at the grocery store.

Steve had told you how concerned he was when he came in to talk with you. How scared he was, how bad he felt that he wasn’t around to protect you when you needed it. And just like he did for you, you’d do for him.

Walking gently towards him you stand behind him, not sure if lightly touching his shoulder would cross a boundary but wanting to reassure him, you do it anyway. The pads of your fingers daintily skim his shoulders, running soft figure eight patterns. His face is hidden by his curtain of hair but you can hear him sniffling softly. A soft squeeze of his shoulder and he wraps an arm around your bare calf, holding onto dear life as you pull him into you. His death grip on your leg almost has you falling over. You find yourself threading your fingers through his wet hair. Rubbing along his scalp, his shoulders jump and shake with a deep sigh as the song finishes again. Eddie peels himself from you and turns the record player off. Standing and looking at the ground. Toeing the carpet with his sock.

“I have…,” he says, clearing his throat, trying like hell to gain composure, “I haven’t heard that song in years… it was her favorite.”

Reaching for his hand your fingers find their way into the spaces between his. Squeezing and rubbing his pointer figure with the pad of your thumb. “Eddie,” you whisper to him, your small soft voice reaching out to him beckoning him.

His eyes turn to you, tear filled and red, his body shaking with a light sob. Instincts kick in and you don’t realize what’s happening before it does, you drag him down the hallway, into your room. The same room where he comforted you in the warmth of his arms, you sit down on your bed, your back to the headboard and bring him down with you, his head in your lap. his arms wrapped tight around your bare thighs. Brushing his hair away from his face with your fingers, his body is racked with sobs, the tops of your thighs wet with his tears. You rub his back, comforting him and whispering to him that you’re sorry, that it’s okay, that you’re here for him.

The dishes would have to wait.

When you wake, you’re snuggled down into the confinements of your bed. Blankets covering both you and Eddie, his arms wrapped tightly around your middle like a child with a balloon at the fair, afraid to let go. His body is curved with yours, his light snores tickling your hair. Not waking him, you gently fall back asleep, the thought that he was right, skids across your mind.

Eddie was the first guy to sleep in your bed— and your heart leaped when you selfishly hoped he never wanted to leave it.

A/N: SEE YOU IN VOL: VIII HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED

[this message is for read more —, you big nasty, smelling bitch. Why you took me off the mf schedule with your trifflin’ dirty ass. Big bitch Oompa Loompa body ass bitch, I’m comin up there and I’m gonna beat the fuck …… (it’s a reference from TikTok) BUT TRY ME READMORE TRY ME]

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction

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authorhjk1 · 7 months

Text

Halloween Interlude:

The archer and the heiress

Tiffany Young X Kim Taeyeon X Male Reader

Shoot! I completely forgot!"

The woman lying next to you lifts her head off your chest.

"What?"

"I have to go to the party today."

She sits up, looking around for clothes she could put on. You remember that she was already missing her dress by the time you reached her living room. Her panties must be in that area as well, while her bra is dangling on the doorknob of her bedroom door.

"When does it start?"

"9 pm."

Your watch says it's 7.

"Relax, Tiffany. You have more than enough time."

You pull her back onto the mattress and your chest.

"I have to clean this place, though."

"Why? You said the party is at your friend's place."

"Yeah. But another friend of mine is gonna pick me up."

"Don't worry about it."

You have your own meeting to attend to, which means, you don't have all the time in the world either. But with a beauty like Tiffany next to you, there is no way you leave, unless it's absolutely necessary.

You kiss her forehead, while sneaking your hand under the cover. The two of you are still naked after your little session a couple of minutes ago.

"Yes. Right there."

Tiffany sighs as you fingers find her clit. You lazily draw small circles on it, while kissing the top of her head. Her own fingers trace along the outlines of your abs.

"A little harder."

You do as she says, making her squirm underneath the sheets.

After your night with IU, you realized that there are mutual benefits for sleeping with older women. You still learn something everytime. Ahin appreciates it as well, since she is mainly the one whom you experiment on afterwards.

"God, yes."

Tiffany coos as you slip a finger inside her honey pot.

"No, No. Stop. I have to get dressed."

She attempts to pull your arm out from underneath the sheets.

"You know this going to take only a minute."

You earn another moan as a second finger joins the first.

"And how are you going to get off then?"

You shrug your shoulders.

"I have to take a shower anyways, before I leave."

"That's not fair."

"You are the one who is telling me to leave."

"No. I-I'm not. Fuck."

Tiffany feels her body starting to heat up. The warm feeling in her core intensifies as you curl your fingers.

"God. I thought you too well."

You chuckle as you feel her press her face into your chest.

This is the second time in one week you are lying in her bed. And it seems to pay off.

Her legs shuffle around, making her feet peak out from underneath her white covers. You see them curling, her toes digging into the mattress.

Keeping your pace, it doesn't take long for Tiffany to orgasm. A deep moan, a small wave that's rushing through her body and she is lying next to you, like she did before.

Your chest is a little wet as Tiffany is still breathing heavily. The two of you lie next to each other in silence once more.

A couple of moments later, the doorbell rings.

"Oh, shit! That's her."

This time, you don't stop Tiffany from getting up. Instead, you enjoy the sight of her flawless body. She opens her wardrobe, taking out a bathrobe. She ties the satin belt around her waist as she turns around.

Tiffany's cleavage is on display, the turquoise robe barely hiding her chest.

"Towels are underneath the sink."

You nod in appreciation, before watching her leave the room and close the door.

Checking your phone, you read the message Ahin send you.

"I feel bad that you have to work tonight. I will make it up to you, when I'm back home."

You are typing your response, when she sends you another text.

"Are you still at Tiffany's? I hope you are enjoying yourself before the meeting."

"Thank you, babe. I'm having a great time. I will see you tonight."

Putting your phone back on Tiffany's nightstand, you throw the sheets off your body. While you make your way to her bathroom, you hear Tiffany and another woman chat in the living room. Since the door to the bathroom is in her bedroom, you don't even have to leave it.

Closing the door behind you, you search for her towels.

Meanwhile:

"What are you doing, Tif? We are leaving in a couple of minutes."

The younger woman scoffs at the older one.

"Is that your costume? It's not very original, is it?"

"Better than your robe. What are you dressed up as? A slut?"

"No. My costume is in my bathroom."

"Get dressed then."

Tiffany rolls her eyes.

"You know where the drinks are. Knock yourself out."

The younger woman leaves to get dressed.

Hearing the door open, you turn off the water. You are done anyways. When you are about to ask Tiffany for your clothes, you remember where you left them.

"What is it?"

"I left my clothes in your living room."

Tiffany's eyes widen.

"No problem. I'm gonna get them."

You stop her by holding onto her arm.

"It's fine. I can get them myself."

"But-"

You shut her up by kissing her lips.

"Get dressed."

Closing the door behind you, you tie her blue towel around your waist. Luckily it's more than big enough to cover your lower body, even reaching your knees.

Entering Tiffany's living room, you stop in your tracks. The woman that is leaning against the counter looks stunning, to say the least.

Her long black dress falls onto the floor, while it shows off her naked shoulders. Silver hair flows down her back and shoulders, decorated with pearls. Her glasses look quite interesting, but your main focus lies on the weapon in her hand. A silver bow, at least half as long as she is tall. You get a glimpse of her quiver, before you realize that she is holding something else in her left hand.

Your red tie.

She must have heard you come in, because she looks up. A small smile plays on her lips.

Her eyes are locked on yours, before they start to travel down your body. Kim Taeyeon's gaze wonders over your biceps, chest and abs. You see her biting her lower lip, once she reaches your towel. You feel proud of your body. The hundreds of hours spent in the gym were worth it.

"Drop your towel."

You expected everything. Except this. Maybe a hello. Or a compliment. Or "what the hell are you doing here?". But not this.

Too surprised to answer, you stay in place like a scarecrow.

Taeyeon sighs, before putting your tie on the counter. She walks up to you slowly, keeping eye contact with you through her glasses.

"So you are the reason, why Tiffany is late?"

"I-I guess so."

Now you know, why she was in such a hurry to get dressed earlier.

"I told you to drop it."

Taeyeon let's her bow fall onto the sofa next to you.

After hesitating for a moment, you do as she says. As the towel hits the floor, she takes a step closer.

"No wonder Tiffany didn't tell me about you. I wouldn't want to share you, too."

"I'm not an object, you know?"

Tiffany wasn't as dominant during your first encounter. Yes, she did make you take her in her car. But afterwards, she became a little softer. She likes to switch between dominant and submissive.

But as Taeyeon puts her hand around your throat, you realize that she is probably the most dominant woman you have been with.

The pearls on her hand slightly dig into your skin. You have no trouble breathing yet.

"As of now, you are mine."

Still too bamboozled to speak, you let her other hand explore your chest and abs.

"Tiffany is gonna take a while. Which means we have time for a quick fuck."

You are still in awe at how confident she is. Taeyeon is way smaller and petite than you. But she still holds power over you, like you never expected.

At first, you want to decline. Just out of principle. For some reason, Taeyeon is too dominant for your taste. And yet, you find yourself kind of intrigued.

Since you saw Tiffany's body just a few moments ago, you can't help but compare. And you have to say, Taeyeon isn't lacking behind in anything at all. Her dress stretches a little over her chest, making her breasts look slightly bigger than they probably are. Her flawless, white skin is decorated with pearls, while her eye makeup compliments her hair.

She looks just as beautiful as she looks intimidating. Especially with that bow and quiver of hers. The way she stares up at you, makes you jump into action.

Wanting to kiss her red lips, you lean down. Taeyeon almost makes you choke as she strengthens her grip.

"No kissing, toy."

Without breaking eye contact, she reaches down, touching your dick.

"This is the only part of your body that I want inside of me."

The situation is utterly ridiculous to you. This small woman has wrapped you around her finger like a plaything. With ease, she pushes you against the wall.

"Pick me up."

Taeyeon strokes your cock, making sure you are able to make use of the short time you have.

"Pick me up and nail me into the wall."

You reach underneath her dress, expecting her to take her hand off your throat. Instead, Taeyeon straightens her back fully, making it easier for you to pick her up.

Looking down, you see the hem of her dress still grazing the floor. The soft skin of her thighs in your hands makes you as hard as you need to be. Taeyeon reaches into her dress, guiding your cock towards her entrance. You shouldn't be surprised she isn't wearing anything underneath.

"Now give it to me."

She presses her forehead against yours as you feel your tip part her folds.

"Give it to me good."

This would have been motivation enough already. But hearing Tiffany rummaging around in the room behind you finally brakes your composure.

You pull Taeyeon onto your cock, her body as leight as a feather. Her wet pussy makes way for your dick as you sink into her.

"That's what I'm talking about."

Taeyeon coos as she feels your hard shaft slowly filling her snatch.

"Now turn around, toy."

You do as she says. Both of her hands are now at the back of your neck as you push her back against the wall.

"Fuck yes."

Taeyeon sighs as you lift her up, before dropping her again. Like she requested, you start to nail her into the wall. Her small body gets thrown up and down with every thrust.

"Harder!"

You pull her further onto your cock, making her take every inch. Her nails dig into the back of your neck as you bounce her up and down.

"Be rougher!"

By now, you almost feel like you throw Taeyeon into the air, before impaling her with your shaft. You drive yourself deeper and deeper into her everytime you pull her onto your cock. Her pussy is tight and wet, consuming your dick with an unsatisfiable hunger.

"Tell mommy how good her pussy feels."

"Your pussy feels so good."

You start talking, before even realizing what she called herself.

"It's so warm. So tight. It's the best."

"That's a good boy!"

Taeyeon sounds like she is out of breath, although you are the one carrying her. The volume of her moans increase with every second. You feel her dress hugging the both of you as you fuck it's owner into her friend's wall.

"Oh god! That's one good cock!"

Taeyeon's hands fall off your neck as you start to drive her towards the end. Her pussy tightens around you, her body trying to get as much friction out of you as possible.

"Make mommy cum!"

Her nails now scratch the white wall behind her. Taeyeon's face contorts in pleasure.

"God!"

Her pussy clenches around your cock as she orgasms on your dick. The tension leaves her body, while her eyes are wide open. Just like her mouth.

"What-"

Tiffany chooses this exact moment to enter the living room. She stops in the doorframe at the sight right next to her.

You, standing completely naked in her living room, driving her friend into her wall like you would a nail. Her friend, still recovering from her orgasm, hanging in your arms.

In return, you can't take your eyes off of Tiffany. You are not exactly sure what that costume is supposed to be, but it's definitely working for her.

Her white top looks like a combination of jacket and bra, showing a deep cut into her cleavage. The matching skirt is open in the front, revealing white shorts. Being this close to her, you can see the outlines of her pussy lips. Her long black hair cascades down over her right shoulder. While the rings on her fingers do make her look elegant, the sunglasses on her head seem a little over the top.

"Are you serious, Tae?"

"What?"

"Couldn't you have waited until like, after the party?"

"No way. He would be gone by then."

"That's true."

You agree with Taeyeon, but shut up, when you see Tiffany's stare.

"To be honest, I liked you robe costume better."

"Do you now?"

The younger woman crosses her arms in front of her chest while looking at the older one.

"Yeah. I still don't get what you are supposed to be."

"That's because I'm not done yet. I wanted to know what was going on, after hearing some noises."

"And what are you supposed to be?"

You feel your arms getting tired while listening to the two women.

"A rich heiress who was bitten by a vampire."

Taeyeon raises an eyebrow.

"I see. So you are wearing that, plus vampire teath and some blood on your face?"

"Better than your outfit from your own MV."

"Girls,...."

You try to put Taeyeon down, who gracefully steps out of your embrace.

"I really love both of your outfits, but I gotta go now. I have a meeting coming up."

"A meeting on Halloween?"

Tiffany laughs.

"Your life sucks."

Your eyes flicker between the two of them. Not really.

Walking away to find your clothes, you hear Taeyeon chuckle behind you.

"Who said I'm done with you yet?"

"What?"

You turn back around.

"There is still one thing I'm missing."

She walks towards you, taking a hold of your hard cock once more. You know what it is, but you wait for her to say it.

Instead, Tiffany steps up.

"Do you have to do this now?"

"Yes. And you do too."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Taeyeon focuses back on you.

"Since you are going to cum inside of me anyways, I'm gonna let you choose. Who do you want to fuck first? Me? Or that bratty heiress?"

"Hey. I just got changed and..."

Taeyeon takes Tiffany's arm and pulls her forward. The younger woman stumbles and lands in your arms.

"Bratty heiress it is."

You don't want to anger Tiffany and yet Taeyeon's stare makes you act immediately.

In a blink, you push Tiffany onto the sofa. She lands on her stomach, her sunglasses fall off at the impact. Leaning over her, you hike up her skirt, taking a good look at her firm ass.

"Take her."

Following Taeyeon's command, you peel Tiffany's shorts off of her.

"Stop it. I have to..."

Taeyeon stuffs Tiffany's mouth with a black thong. Now you remember, where you threw it a couple of hours ago.

"Less talking, more moaning."

You are now sitting on her legs, slightly pushing her ass cheeks apart. Tiffany's pussy looks even more beautiful in this position than usual. You guide your still hard cock towards her snatch, before slowly penetrating her.

You hear Tiffany's muffled protests, but you don't care as soon as you feel her wetness.

"Good boy. Now fuck the shit out of her."

Taeyeon is sitting in the armchair across from you, her hand underneath her dress.

"Mommy wants to see how she looks when she cums."

You take that as a challenge.

Tiffany's face sinks into the cotton of her sofa as you start to pound her. Her pussy feels even tighter in this position, making it even more pleasurable for you. Her elegant, bratty aura is quickly replaced by a mumbling mess.

The thong in her mouth works wonders. You can't understand a word as you fuck her hard.

"Listen to her moaning."

Taeyeon sighs, her hand moving at the same rhythm as you.

"I told her not to hide it from me, when she finds someone great to play with."

Her lips are slightly open, even when she isn't speaking.

"That's her punishment now. I hope she learns from it."

Holding her by her waist, you push Tiffany's body further into the mattress as you keep pounding her from above. You feel her feet kick against your back as her pussy becomes wetter and wetter. Her moans turn into screams, which even the thong can't quiet. And a couple of thrusts later, Tiffany is forced to orgasm on her sofa.

Her juices immediately stain the cotton as you feel her pussy clench around you. After having fucked Taeyeon before, you feel your own orgasm approaching. Tiffany's tight walls aren't of any help at all, when you try not to cum.

"Lie on the ground."

Taeyeon is already standing, ready for you to follow her order.

You lie down after leaving an angry, but satisfied Tiffany.

"Time for your cum, toy. Cum in me."

Taeyeon straddles you, already guiding your tip towards her entrance. A second later, you are inside of her again. While Tiffany is tighter, although that might have been the position, Taeyeon is definitely wetter. You feel her juices running down your shaft as she teases her folds with your tip.

"God, you are hard."

No surprise there, you think to yourself as you feel Taeyeon lowering herself onto you. You still don't see much, due to her long dress. Her pussy feels heavenly nevertheless.

Taeyeon starts to ride you, while you lie on Tiffany's carpet. The younger woman starts to fix her "costume", while you have to do your best to not shoot your load right now.

"You are such a good boy. Good fucking toy."

Taeyeon moans and moans. Filth after filth spills out of her mouth as she rocks her body on top of you. You hold her waist through her dress, making sure she can focus on her steady rhythm.

"You are nothing like a little toy to me. A plaything to cum on, whenever I want."

Taeyeon sighs heavily, her cheeks flushed.

All those accessories in her hair sparkle in the light as they bounce up and down in tandem with her body.

"Fuck."

You sigh, knowing you are close. Taeyeon feels you twitching inside of her.

"Yeah! Cum in me. Fill my pussy with that cum of yours!"

She picks up her pace, making you see stars. Her body moves back and forth, up and down. She does anything to make you cum inside of her.

"Give mommy your cum! Cum for me, toy!"

You groan as you finally release your load.

Taeyeon feels how you paint her insides white as her pussy contracts around you. A small orgasm rushes through her body, making her pussy milk your cock for everything you got.

___________

Happy Halloween in advance! Hope you enjoy this one. The next proper chapter is already on its way.

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #girls generation #snsd #taeyeon #tiffany #halloween

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undead-supernova · 1 month

Text

Bummer! / Masterlist / 18+

part 1 / part 2

Playlist

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: you invite eddie out to a party with you and your best friend and it's all perfect...right?

contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader, dirty dancing/making out, hints at past trauma, arguing, underlining slut shaming, lots of heavy petting and fluffy feelings

note: we're up to part 3 already?! with part 4 already in the works?! who even am I anymore!!! thank you to both @littlexdeaths and @jo-harrington for being my biggest supporters and encouraging me to keep going. this is for you both !!!!

song inspo: the song in this chapter is Tití Me Preguntó by Bad Bunny. It is an absolute bop (also he is so hot it’s not even funny)

wc: 5.6k

“Your life sounds like fan fiction.”

You let out a high-pitched scoff, taking Aron’s stuffed octopus by the tentacles and whacking her with it.

“Shut up!”

Aron chuckled, throwing her hands up. “Hey, I never said that was a bad thing!”

You and Aron, your best friend since freshman year, were perched on her bed, all cross-legged and giggly, recounting the last few weeks with Eddie. When you finally told Aron about him, she was livid. How could you not tell your best friend about a really hot guy you’d been seeing who wasn’t an asshole?

“He’s just so good,” you said with a content smile, throwing your head back on the bed like a girl in a 2000s romantic comedy. “I can’t believe I got this lucky.”

“Yeah, I’d feel lucky too if I had a guy playing guitar for me and tasted like cinnamon and beauty and stuff.”

Your smile widened, the phantom touch of his lips already having imprinted itself on your mouth. “He’s just so nice. And I feel like he gets me, you know? He sees me for me, not for my body or whatever. Plus, we have the same taste in music and movies and…” A soft sigh left your lips as you shrugged. “He just makes me happy, I don’t know.”

Aron leaned over, smiling down at you. The beads at the end of her long braids clinked together as she shook her head at you. “Well, I’m very happy this Eddie is making my best friend all gooey and soft for once.”

You rolled your eyes but you both knew you really appreciated the affirmation. Sometimes you needed that extra assurance, Aron’s opinion being maybe the most important to you—besides your own. When you’d met her at that dreaded Halloween party, all tattered clothes and broken sobs, Aron was quick to help you. Without questions, without judgment. A stranger helping a stranger before becoming best friends within a week.

Before you could get lost in the cold memory, Aron clapped her hands and gasped.

“You should invite him to the party!”

You sat up, furiously nodding. “Oh my God, yes! I completely forgot.”

“It’ll be fun.” You nodded, watching as her nose began to crinkle. “Unless you sneak off to go make out or something.”

Your apologetic smile that turned a little too exaggerated made her groan.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you said, feigning a sensual tone as you made kissy noises and reached out to tickle her.

She hit you with the octopus (that poor octopus), causing you both to laugh. “You tell me about every fucking kiss, bitch.”

Grabbing it from her, you smirked and said, “And you love hearing about it.”

Aron shrugged. “True. I’m too nosey for my own good.”

“And I’m too honest,” you added, giving her a high-five.

“So, the party?”

You hadn’t felt this way since you were fourteen, running around the football field late at night with Trent Summers, lost in the throes of an unrequited crush. Lost in an all-American fantasy of dating a boy on the football team when you hadn’t even made the cheer squad. Getting your heart broken after he told you he had a girlfriend. You ended your friendship right then and there—resulting in you throwing a football at his face.

Mary Winston had been next, all braces and crooked smiles. Sweet sixteens and discovered identities. You’d met in the art room during lunch, fawning over some TV show before realizing that there was something more there. It didn’t last long, but you swore you’d love her till the day you died. And if anyone had access to your tear-stained diary, they’d know it was very dramatic. Very dramatic.

(Come to think of it, you’d felt something bubbly inside you for Eliza Roseheart in preschool. Playing “husband and wife” and pecking each other on the lips shouldn’t have been as fun as it was.)

Now there was Eddie Munson, the guy who walked you to class and got you coffee just because. At night, you hopped in his van and went on drives. An hour and a half of scream-singing that always ended up with feverish make out sessions by the dock of a lake, the windows fogging up despite the humid heat just beyond those doors. Gnashing teeth as you both giggled your way through can we play 20 Questions? and can I tell you another secret? in between kisses. Helping him down from orgasms after some whispers and heavy, heavy petting, caressing his face in your hands as you told him how good of a job he did. Tracing the lines of his face as you teetered in and out of sleep. Feeling his lips on your forehead as he helped you back into your dorm.

You were never one to believe in good luck. After years of being thrown to the wolves and caged inside a dungeon you built yourself, this nerdy little goofball had coaxed you away from the bars. Led you from a state of hidden solitude, only to welcome you with warm sun and sweaty palms.

All you knew now was that you wanted him. Always.

“We’ll be there.”

Eddie felt naked without his jacket.

As a matter of fact, he felt a bit out of character. A dark, dark purple Black Sabbath tee was paired with his regular black jeans, combat boots, and wallet chain. The same rings and bracelets.

But his jacket. He knew he’d have to leave it with this weather. Smelling bad wasn’t an option tonight, especially meeting your best friend. The less he fucked up his appearance, the less he had to worry about fucking up in general.

So he hung up his favorite boy and left his dorm with bare arms. Followed his heart all the way to your dorm.

Had your roommate greet him, a giggle escaping her lips as soon as she saw him. Aron, as he learned, was quick to pull him into conversation as you finished up getting ready. Though you called down the hallway to them, he still couldn’t calm his anxiety.

Meeting new people didn’t bode well for him.

And yet he was proven wrong—their conversation was as easy as breathing, exchanging thoughts on their favorite video games and how legendary Black Sabbath was.

“Oh, I like you,” she said at one point and laughed at the blush rising to his cheeks. “I’m glad you already know that’s a compliment of the highest degree.”

He’d thought he got his groove back. He really did. But then he heard your heels echoing through the hallway and looked over at your figure coming closer. Eddie immediately shot up out of his seat at the sight of you.

Your dress was one he hadn’t seen before, a satin black spaghetti-strapped dress that hugged your curves just right. A patch at the bottom showed a red rose, circled by a silver snake. Black heels and an array of rings. No necklace, no earrings. Smokey-eyed and gloss-lipped.

“Fucking hell.”

Both girls broke out into laughter.

He wanted to hit himself. Could he once, just once, keep his mouth shut?

“Sorry,” he added.

You shook your head, stepping closer. “Don’t be. I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received, so thank you.”

Eddie nearly missed Aron skipping off to her room when you pulled him into a hug. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, letting his arms wrap around your back. Even after all these weeks, he found that he could never get used to your embrace. Your skin against his, the fizzle of something electric jumping between your bodies.

“You look amazing, by the way,” you whispered in his ear before pulling back. He was pretty sure your smile was just as goofy as his. “I love your shirt.”

“Thought you might,” he responded with a small laugh. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, but stopped himself. “Sorry.”

Your smile faltered as confusion flooded your face. “For what?”

Before he could apologize again, Aron was skipping back into the room and clapping her hands together.

“Alright, let’s boogey.”

You were quick to settle into the party, the three of you standing in one corner or another, laughing over really anything you could think of. Aron was sure to point out everyone who was cool and everyone who was not, giving Eddie a crash course in the party scene that always felt a little too high school for your taste. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to bother with that stuff which you liked. There was nothing worse than watching someone lose themselves in fair-weather friends.

Two drinks in, Aron left to go find some other friends of hers, reiterating that they were part of the Cool Crowd. It left you and Eddie to your own devices, with your exaggerated bantering and light shoves. Touches that felt like electric shocks, the voltage only increasing with each jab. At some point, you had to wonder if that’s why you both kept doing it.

Then, in the middle of threatening to tickle him, you heard the starting sounds of a Bad Bunny song you liked. Leaning your head back, you let out a satisfied “Yes!”, watching as people quickly gathered near the speakers.

Eddie looked at you, confused.

You merely chuckled, taking his hand and leading him over to the small crowd.

“Let’s dance!”

Your hand grasped his over your shoulder, just like that night you met. It was a feeling like no other, Eddie’s heart hammering in his chest. And, God, he really couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

He was happy. He was having fun.

“I don’t know how to dance to this kind of music!” he admitted loudly, a smile still plastered on his lips.

But you were far from deterred. “Just follow my lead, pretty boy.”

And just like that, you were turning around and tugging his hands forward until they met your waist. Let yourself lean back on him, grinding your hips as they swayed back and forth.

Effortless. That’s the best way he could describe the way you moved, the way you never missed a beat. The bass pumped and vibrated through Eddie’s limbs, but you seemed to be one with the music.

Dancing wasn’t something unheard of when it came to Eddie. If he was listening to music, chances were that he was shimmying his shoulders or head banging. In a mosh pit, he let himself get jostled around, bopping along to the sound. He may not have had hips like Jagger, but he knew how to move them at least.

However, this was new territory, having a girl, having you in front of him, waiting for him to move. And if he was supposed to move, then god dammit, he was going to move.

Eddie took a deep breath before the beat slowed down. Letting his wired thoughts fade into a soft buzz, doing what he felt was right. Like pulling you tight against his chest and moving his hips at the same time as yours. Pushing himself against your ass, a harsh breath leaving his nose at the friction.

Sighing, you let your head fall back on his shoulder, a content smile lifting onto your lips. Raised your hands, wrapping them around his neck the best you could, rhythm never lost on you.

And it would be just so easy to…

But would you be okay with…

Fuck it.

Shaking his head, he leaned down and began to kiss your neck. Your next sigh was what officially turned him on, pushing him further into your heat wave. Licked a stripe up your neck and tugged on your earlobe with his teeth.

Eddie couldn’t help the thought, the impulse creeping up in this crowded house party to move his fingers just a bit lower, to skirt the hem of your dress that was riding up with each swirl of your hips. He wanted you, cock straining against his jeans in near agony, continuing to litter your neck with love bites as if you were alone.

And just before he could get a little more bold, you were taking his trigger-finger hand and placing it on your thigh, so close to what he could call the inner thigh.

“Is that okay?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He nodded. “Was already headed there, sweetheart. You beat me to it.”

“I took an earlier flight,” you joked.

A breathy chuckle left his lips. “That’s okay. That’s not my last stop anyways.”

Your thigh was soft, full, easy enough to squeeze. So he did, eliciting a high-pitched sigh from you.

A proud smile met your face. So you liked when he took the upper hand.

And, God, if you kept looking at him like that, he was going to start fingering you in front of every fucking person here. Maybe he would. No one was looking at you both, right? He could do it. Just a little bit. Just…just a little bit.

His fingers twitched, raising higher and higher and—

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” a voice said, snapping you out of this moment. You both looked over to see Aron approaching, taking hold of one of your wrists. “But I gotta steal her for a second.”

“Aron!” you exclaimed, holding onto Eddie’s hand as long as you could before Aron dragged you away. Sorry, you mouthed at him before turning back.

You couldn’t help your face growing hot at the feeling of your wetness still sticking to your inner thighs as you parted them.

She didn’t pull you far, but you couldn’t help how pissed you felt. Granted, you weren’t really pissed at her but something was about to happen and you’d been more than happy to just let it.

Eddie was finally taking the upper hand, doing what he wanted. Not just going along with what you told him to do. There was no blind faith or overthought. No, he was showing—initiating. It was euphoric. It was nearly orgasmic…

“What’s going on?” you asked, smoothing out the hem of your dress. And as you stood there fixing yourself, you felt Aron step closer to you.

“Listen, Sam is walking around, drunk as fuck—”

“Big shock there,” you commented, crossing your arms over your chest.

Aron let out a snort. “Yeah, literally. Anyways, he’s talking about how easy you are in bed and keeps telling everyone you’re here with Eddie to make him jealous.”

Sam Covington had been a problem for…a while. Maybe since last summer, when you were…friendly with some of the frat guys’ girlfriends. Got invited out one night and Sam was there, always staring at you from any corner of the room or finding excuses to talk to you. It was fucking creepy.

It was one of those things that sent chills down your spine, the fear for your safety growing with each glance. That voice that made you want to run and hide. The touch that had you wondering if you’d remembered to grab your pepper spray and whistle.

Usually, you were able to stand your ground and hurl insults he couldn’t fathom hearing from a woman. Even the last party you’d seen him at, the one where you had met Eddie…

But it didn’t mean that you felt any more secure.

“Him? Ha!” You exaggerated your tone, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Waved your hand around, desperate to stay calm. “What a fucking joke. He wishes.”

Eddie’s blood ran cold at your mocking tone, taken aback by your blatant degradation. Like a mask had been removed, revealing a forked tongue and razor sharp teeth.

He’d seen your expression, your shoulders turning inward, like you were uncomfortable. He decided to walk over and, sure, it was probably rude. He knew that. However, he couldn’t stand to see you upset. He needed to know what was going on, pulled to you with some tether that he couldn’t explain.

But he regretted it immediately.

Aron chuckled. “If that ain’t the truth, girl.”

“He’s such a fucking loser, I swear. Can’t catch a fucking hint.”

Eddie once thought he’d let go of the anger he once held in high school. The defiant boy that was once riddled with so much frustration at the cruel hand he’d been dealt. The one that jumped up on lunch tables and screamed at whoever would listen. He thought he’d given up on holding onto the bitterness of verbal sucker punches and bruised ribs.

But it was creeping back up, that violent shaking that ran along his arms. The torment of those five brutal years of high school tingling in his fingertips as you continued to desaturate the vibrancy of a man he thought he was becoming.

“Like, why does he have to be so obsessed with you?”

You shrugged and his eyes caught the tail end of your eye roll. “Because he’s so fucking desperate for someone to fuck him. That’s why.”

And before he could stop his head from going there, he was back in that blistering July. The fear of being used goods clutching at his throat as he struggled to speak, struggled to find an escape.

“Pathetic,” you stated, voice thick with disgust.

That scorching July. Fingers trembling on the doorknob, his sweaty palm slicking it in sweat. Slipping.

No escape, no escape.

He needed to get out. There was no thought, just action. So, he turned and started stalking towards the front door. Voices in his head spoke over one another, flooding his brain.

Freak. Loser. Dirty. Good for nothing. Desperate. Trailer park trash.

Pathetic.

“Eddie?” he heard behind him, the sound of his name on your lips like a beckoning call, serenading him with its delicacy.

If he didn’t have a shred of dignity left, he would’ve turned around and come running. But he didn't, instead making a run for the side of the house. Maybe if he hid, he didn’t have to face your humiliation.

And, like he said, he didn’t have to run back…because you were already catching up with him, stopping him in his tracks as you stepped in front of him. How you did that in six inch heels was fucking beyond him.

Placing a hand on his chest, you asked, “What’s wrong?” As your eyes scanned his face, you added, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

But he knew better.

He did, didn’t he?

“Are you using me?”

You paused, flinching away from his chest as if you’d been burned. “Excuse me?”

“Like…” Eddie started, trying to take a deep breath to keep himself level. But he was starting to falter, all shaky and desperate for you to get it the fuck over with. “Like, if we even fuck, is that it? Will the chase be over for you?”

Your face began to harden, something resembling fury clouding your features. “How fucking dare you think I’d do something like that.”

“It’s just a question!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, and I don’t appreciate you acting like I’m engaging in this relationship just to fuck you and leave.”

His eyebrows furrowed as his nostrils flared with frustration, both of you holding mirrored expressions. But yours softened first, the edges of your snarl quivering. Shaking your head, you took another step back.

“I like you, Eddie. Okay? I’ve liked you since that first night. We’ve been on, like, three dates now? And I introduced you to my best friend, for Christ’s sake. You make me laugh but you make me so fucking soft, it drives me insane. And those late night drives make these stupid midterms worth it.”

“Oh.”

“Did I really have to spell it out?” Eddie didn’t say anything. “I mean, geez. I thought I’ve been an open book this whole time. I’ve spent practically every day with you. Every night, even. Like, why would I want to be with anyone else? And did you really need me to reiterate all of that?”

“But you told your friend that I’m—”

“What?!” you exclaimed before shaking your head. “No, that was about this frat guy, Sam. He’s been creeping on me again and is spreading fucking rumors and I am getting literally so sick and tired of it.”

The dissipated anger began to creep back up at the thought of some douchebag stalking you. Who the fuck was Sam to not take a fucking hint? And why was it becoming so increasingly hard not to run back into that party and beat the shit out of him?

“A guy’s been creeping on you? Since when?”

You sighed. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

Eddie held up a hand. “Now, hang on. I am going to worry about that, because that’s not nothing.”

“I agree, but that’s a later conversation,” you said, pushing his hand down and shaking your head. “Get to the part where you tell me why you think I’d ever say that about you.”

Eddie was the one to sigh now, pissed that you had to move on but ultimately needed to confess. “I just never thought you’d actually be into me.”

“Why?” you nearly yelled.

“I’m just a fr—”

“Ew! If you say ‘freak’, I’m legally obligated to rip your eyes straight out of your skull.”

A breath escaped his nose as he closed his eyes and tried again. “You just…you’ve dated more people than I have.”

“Based off of what?”

His eyes flew open. “What?” he asked, unsure what you meant.

“You haven’t even bothered to ask me how many people I’ve dated—or fucked, for that matter.” Eddie’s eyes widened. “I’ve had one relationship. One.”

“Really?” he whispered.

You let out a laugh that didn’t match your exhausted expression. “Yeah, for a week until she got nervous about her parents finding out and dumped me. I was sixteen.” Furrowed eyebrows returned to your face as you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned towards him dramatically. “What about that, huh? How many people have you dated, Eddie?”

Two. The number was thick in his throat, his verbalization swallowed by your question being, well, rhetorical.

You paused, turning your face away from the light. But he caught your pointer finger flying up to dab your lower lash line. “Like, I’ve had sex, sure. But it’s not like I ask all those guys to fucking harass me. I honestly don’t know how that became a thing here. Like, I’m just here. I’m just trying to have fun.”

The guilt was starting to settle in his chest. “I should’ve caught that.”

“I thought you understood me,” you said before letting out a high-pitched sound of disbelief, lifting your hands and letting them fall at your sides with a loud thwack. “Like, I’m not a slut or a whore or whatever they want to say despite it being the twenty-first fucking century! And I can’t even be with you without some guy trying to—”

He heard it before he saw it. A scoff that shifted into a sob as you crouched down to your knees, only hovering above the ground by your tall heels.

Eddie had never seen you cry, had never seen the façade so easily broken. This girl he once thought untouchable, invincible, cracking before his eyes.

Looking back to all of those moments, those numerous instances of harassment, how quick you were to send them a message. How easily it came to you, to throw your verbal and physical punches like it was nothing. Like it was a normal thing.

He’d gotten so caught up in how badass you were that he didn’t stop to think about how you felt about it. Or why it came so easily to you.

He crouched down, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’m really sorry. That was really shitty of me.”

He felt you lean into his hand, glad that you weren’t rejecting him. It was lame, but he didn’t think he could handle your rejection right now. Especially when you were in this state. Especially when he was the reason why.

Turning to glance at him through your tears, you said, “Eddie, that really hurt my feelings.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” he said truthfully. “If it means anything, I didn’t think you were a, um, slut or whatever. I just thought maybe you didn’t want me the same way.”

You nodded, sniffling while wiping the snot away from your nose. Never once did you pull away from his touch or grow cold. “Yeah, I get that.” You paused, your eye contact starting to burn him. “I’ve never done any of the shit we’ve done with other people. I’ve only felt that comfortable with you.”

“But you’re just…” he trailed before sighing and closing his eyes. “You’re just so good at it.”

When he heard a loud laugh leaving your lips, his eyes flew open, grateful to see a smile on your face. The laugh turned into a fit of snorts, leaving him to laugh at just how adorable you were.

“Yeah, thanks,” you teased, the familiar tone giving him the ability to breathe again. “It’s a litany of porn, smut, and—” You moved your hands up to mimic the shape of a rainbow. “Imaginaaation.”

The reference got Eddie laughing again, nodding along as he replied, “You could’ve told me you’re a dominatrix on the side and, like, I would’ve believed you. Scout’s honor.”

“Good to know,” you joked.

Eddie stood back up then, shaking his head as he reached a hand out to you. “I’m an asshole.”

You lifted an eyebrow, slowly shaking your head back at him before taking his hand. “You’re more special than you think you are.”

He lifted you up, grasping your palm in his as he brought you closer to him. Your joined hands rested against his heart, faces inches apart.

There you were, your eyes fully in view now. Watery, with makeup creasing along your waterline and smudged mascara littering your cheeks. Despite the quiet pain it caused him, he was grateful to get a glimpse at your beauty again, your attention still gutting him over and over again.

If he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he could feel his guts spilling onto the concrete. And when he drew closer, it was made even worse as he felt your heart rate increase in real time.

And, god dammit, he couldn’t help himself. Eddie closed the gap and kissed you. Gently, tentatively. Let himself linger just long enough to inhale your breath before pulling back.

“My god, you’re precious,” he whispered, heart clenching with every feature you softened—the mask slipping. His eyes fell upon your lips, slightly ajar in shock.

“Yeah?” you whispered, breath hitching when he lightly pushed you against the wall.

Eddie’s nose skimmed your cheek, desperate to breathe in your perfume. One last whiff. He swore it. Just one more.

Just one more.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed, inhaling your scent again.

It was the last time. Promise.

“Tell me again,” you pleaded.

He pulled back, catching the clenching of your thighs in his peripheral. A dangerous smile grazed his lips as he gave you what you wanted.

“You’re precious.”

You nodded repeatedly, doe-eyed as you begged, “Again.”

“You’re precious,” he said, hushed as his lips hovered above yours.

“Please,” you whimpered, legs squirming against his. But he pushed you further into the wall, your connected hands halting your movement. He could feel your heart racing furiously. “One more time.”

“You’re precious, baby.”

Before you could lunge at him, he was a step ahead of you, crushing your lips with his. Released your hand, quick to cup your face as you floundered to find somewhere to put your hands. Taking a page out of your book, he grabbed your wrists and placed them on his shoulders.

A sigh left your lips at the movement, nodding your head as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. What you were nodding about, he had no idea. He didn’t have the ability to have thoughts about anything anymore.

All he could think was more, more, more.

All he could feel was you.

He couldn’t help himself when he slotted his thigh between yours, earning a deafening moan that made him harder than he already was. You’d moaned, sure. He’d heard you do it plenty of times when you made out. But he was suddenly struck with how different your positions were now. And how he was the reason for it.

The thought drove him closer to the edge, roughly grabbing at your cheek with one hand while the other slid down your thigh, snaking around your knee and jerking your leg up to his hip. Your gasp made him even crazier, unable to help it when he pushed his thigh further against your core. Another wild whimper, this time with an edge of impatience.

“This okay?” he asked.

You nodded furiously. “Yes. Yes.”

If Eddie had the confidence, he’d take you against this house right now. He’d slide into you with ease, Fucking those little sounds out of you, the ones he dreamed about at night. The ones that would mirror the way you sounded right now, only intensified and louder.

And yet it was enough to hear your now quiet desperation, to feel your thighs clench around his leg, your soaking pussy dripping through your panties and staining his jeans with ease.

“Jesus, you’re soaked.”

You nodded furiously, seemingly unable to speak as you gasped and chased his lips again. Ground your pussy against his leg. Impatient, hungry.

He couldn’t help but feel greedy, draping himself around you.

Let there be witnesses. Let the whole house hear him, he didn’t care. But those noises, your noises, belonged solely to him. Swallowed by his mouth, muffled by his body shielding yours. The vibrations pulsed through his cheeks and he couldn’t help but let out a low groan.

He noticed you continuing to chase the friction, rubbing yourself along the denim over and over, his jeans being ruined with every rut of your hips. If Eddie hadn’t been drunk off of you before, he was deliriously faded now. Because you were still going, no words leaving your mouth. Just whimpers and moans.

He wanted to say something, wanted to beg you to keep going. But he stayed quiet, knowing that you’d probably stop, keeping yourself from the pleasure he was witnessing. You looked like a goddess, eyes rolling back and, dear god, he needed to mark your neck again. He dipped his head down and began nipping at your skin again, frenzied at the reaction it pulled out of you.

The hitch in your breath caught his attention, moving his face from your neck to see your head thrown back. Your heaving chest was the indicator, the slow build of something beginning inside you.

“Do it,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

Without any warning, he felt your legs tremble before your cum seeped into his jeans. A cry left your lips as your breath continued at a rapid pace, sweat dripping down your neck. Eddie was quick to lick it up, trying hard not to get on his knees and lap up what was left from the source.

(He was just glad he had enough restraint to resist begging for your underwear to keep for later.)

(The one time he’s able to keep his mouth shut.)

One last whimper left your lips as you came down, chasing the last of your high on his leg before he moved it out of the way. Left a gentle kiss on your forehead before he heard you sniffle.

“S-sorry,” you breathed, tightly squeezing your eyes shut. He came back to the present, leaning back as he watched your face crumble. “Sorry.”

Eddie took your chin between his fingers. “Hey, open your eyes. Look at me.”

At first, you only opened one, like you were testing the waters. He chuckled, earning access to your other eye. “There she is,” he murmured, pecking your nose. “Why’re you apologizing?”

“‘Cause I didn’t ask you if it was okay if I did that.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you pushed his fingers away, covering your mouth with your hand. Shook your head as you added, “I didn’t ask. I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“Baby, I would’ve stopped you.” He moved your hand away, lightly stroking your cheek as he continued. “I was honestly scared you would stop.”

Your head cocked towards his, glassy eyes turned clear again. “Why?”

“‘Cause then I wouldn’t have gotten to make you cum.”

A bashful expression immediately fell over your features, shoulders caving inwards as you bit your lip. You tapped your heels against the concrete, one by one, all jittery and shy. It was cute.

“Yeah, I didn’t plan on that, either,” you said. “But you just…”

“Hm?”

You shrugged, sighing. “You kinda fucked with my head.”

“Does that mean I get to finally fuck you?”

Tapping at your cheek, you looked away in feigned contemplation before shaking your head. “Nope. I think I’ll make you work harder to get to see it.”

“Nah, I could prove it right now,” he insisted, getting down on both knees.

You became flustered, looking at your surroundings before back down at him. “Eddie, no.”

He put his hands in a praying position and tried to puppy-dog eye you. “Trust me, I can make you do that, like, five more times right now.”

“Eddie—”

“And that’s just with my tongue.”

“Oh my God. Get up,” you said with a laugh, tugging him to stand back up. “We’re not doing this in public.”

Eddie snorted, a goofy smile meeting his lips. “Well, technically we already—”

“There you guys are!”

Aron’s voice snapped you both out of your delirium, bringing you back to where you were.

“Oh, ew!” she nearly screeched, eyes wide as she stared at Eddie’s jeans. “We’re in public, guys. Come on.”

When you both looked down, you saw your cum glistening across his jeans.

“I’m sorry!” you said at the same time Eddie said, “I’m not sorry!”

You immediately gawked at him and he couldn’t have enjoyed any reaction more. His smirk said it all, earning a quick whack to his shoulder.

“You’re both so horny on main. I’m never letting you out of my sight at a party ever again.”

thank yew for the divider @strangergraphics

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