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emo-batboy · 6 months

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Battinson Guest Starring on TV Shows

For someone who holds the title of Richest Man in the World, Bruce doesn’t do a lot of traveling.

Which is to say he does a LOT of traveling, but he always tries to find a way out of it.

(Are there bat-related reasons for this? Are there people-related reasons for this? Are there anxiety-related reasons for this? Who knows?)

But partners and sponsors aren’t always going to tolerate his hermit-like tendencies. So once every month or so, Alfred wrangles Bruce into a private jet and sends him off to who knows where so he can represent the company.

Usually, it’s somewhere close on the East Coast, maybe it’s across the pond, even Asia isn’t off the table, but the rarest place to spot Bruce Wayne is actually the West Coast of the US.

One day, it is announced that Bruce Wayne will be spending two (count ‘em, 2) consecutive weeks in California with his kids for some grand business convention.

The West Coast media goes feral with the news, ESPECIALLY interviewers. And because Bruce kicks up such a fuss this time, Alfred has the gall to sign him up for FOUR TV appearances.

Here are these appearances :)

RuPaul’s Drag Race

Drag Queens, especially Drag Race all-stars, contribute to a wide variety of charities

So on a new episode, the queens are challenged to design and shoot a promotional ad for their own charity

And who better to act as a guest judge for this episode than the show’s largest benefactor, CEO of the Wayne Foundation, Bruce Wayne?!

Physically? He’s older than half of the contestants. But spiritually? He screams Baby Gay.

Fifteen minutes into the episode, Bruce is welcomed into the werkroom where he gives them pointers on their campaign. He’s in his cute little three-piece suit (Alfred’s idea) with the intention of looking put-together and knowledgeable. But that’s not the only outcome.

They all flirt with him. Everyone, single or taken. The confessionals are so thirsty.

“He’s lucky the cameras are on. Otherwise, I’d eat him up faster than a bachelorette party in a buffet line.”

“My celebrity crush is talking to me, and all I can focus on are his gorgeous eyes. How am I supposed to know what he's saying?”

Of course, they shoot their shot, but most of it is joking since they don't know he's bi yet.

“Are you single, honey?” Bruce blushes. “It’s complicated.” “Well, I’ll make it simple for you.”

We all know this man can't handle being flirted with. We saw how he froze when Selina did it. It’s like he mentally bluescreens when someone calls him a pet name.

Only THEN do they learn he's bi

One of the queens jokingly asks him, “Ever been with a man before?” thinking it would be a firm no, but Bruce says, “Actually, yes.” “Oh shit, really?” And to Bruce’s embarrassment, the whole room hears him.

The flirting is thus taken up a notch.

On the main stage, Bruce has a lot of great constructive criticism. He talks about how to find the right audience, the importance of a good slogan, and even goes on a little rant about logo design.

(You cannot convince me that Bruce hasn’t hyperfixated on the business of charity work before. Or the science of marketing. They’re his favorite business topics.)

After about three minutes of him complimenting one contestant for their Drag Library pitch, he stops himself mid-sentence and says, “Oh sorry, am I talking too much?” “No, please! Keep talking, sweetheart.” Bruce covers his face to hide his blush. “Why is everyone flirting with me?” “Baby, have you seen yourself?”

While the judges deliberate, RuPaul mentions Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent. Bruce nods along for a while then suddenly just blurts out, “Wait, does it spell ****?”

The judges pause then burst out laughing. “Oh no, we’ve traumatized him!" Bruce is blushing up a storm. “I just never thought about it like that!” “Sweet, innocent Bruce. We’re so sorry.”

It’s later revealed that Bruce offered to help some of the queens launch their charity projects through the Wayne Foundation.

It’s v cute 🥰

Nailed It!

I love Nicole Byer.

She is Mother.

In all seriousness, she’s so fucking funny and she’s personable enough to pull Bruce out of his shell a bit.

The theme for this episode is Found Family. Three pairs of family members compete together—a gay father and his adopted son, an aunt who adopted her niece, and a stepfather and stepdaughter.

Because Bruce Wayne famously adopted two children, he is invited to guest judge.

So Nicole opens the episode with a zinger, the contestants are introduced, and Bruce is welcomed onto the judge’s panel beside Nicole and Jacques.

(Yes, Bruce does speak French. Yes, Nicole makes a joke about it being hot.)

Nicole: “We were surprised you accepted our invitation, Mr. Wayne. You’re notorious for staying on the East Coast. What brought you to the Nailed It! Studio?” Bruce: “My children love this show. They always tell me I should be on it since I’m so bad at baking.” Nicole: “Really? Maybe we should do a celebrity season of Nailed It! and have you compete.” Bruce: “No, you should not.”

Nicole: “So, Bruce, I know you have a butler at home who bakes for you. But what’s the grossest thing you’ve eaten? Escargot? Bad caviar?” Bruce: “I drank olive oil straight from the bottle once.” Nicole: “…What?”

The problem for Bruce is he can’t say anything bad. It just feels mean :(

(And he would rather jump into oncoming traffic than gamble with a social interaction)

For the first challenge, the contestants make cake pops. But when Bruce tries the first one, there is a sickening crunch. Bruce’s eyes widen for a second and he slowly chews.

Nicole: “What was that? Bruce, are you okay?” Bruce, clearly struggling: “It’s…good.”

“Bruce, you can spit it out. It’s okay.” “I already swallowed it.” “Oh, you poor thing.” Bruce chokes for a second, and Nicole pats his back. “Please don’t die. We can’t afford it.”

For the big challenge, production has a surprise in store for Bruce.

Dick (9) and Jason (7) run onto the set and smother Bruce with a hug.

It’s adorable. Bruce no longer cares about paying attention, okay? His kids are here :D

The two boys read from cue cards to announce the second challenge: a three-tiered Gotcha Day cake. And as per tradition, the winner of the first challenge gets a leg-up.

This time, it’s a Helping Hands Button. When they hit the button, Dick and Jason will run over and help them for three minutes. (While being supervised, of course.)

As the contestants bake, Nicole says hello to Dick and Jason, who are clambering all over Bruce like a jungle gym. They both shake her hand and talk about how they love the show.

Nicole looks pointedly at the two empty chairs beside Bruce. “You know, we brought these chairs for you two to sit in.” Dick, on Bruce’s shoulders: “We’re fine, Ms. Byer!” Nicole: “Ms. Byer? Oh, you’re a cutie, aren’t you?”

Just ten minutes before the challenge is over, the Helping Hands button is pressed, and Dick and Jason are given stools so they can help the aunt and niece stack their cake tiers.

Two minutes in, the aunt instructs them to let go of the cake. But the moment Jason pulls his hands away, the cake topples over and covers him in frosting. Jason, whispering: “Oh f*ck.” Bruce: “Jason!” Jason: “I didn’t say that! Dick did!” Nicole: *cackling as Bruce buried his face in his hands*

Jason gets cleaned up, and Dick helps them stack what can still be salvaged.

When Wes brings out the trophy, he’s dressed as Batman. Dick and Jason gets a kick out of that.

Celebrity Family Feud

Bruce was invited to the show after his SNL skit went viral a few months ago

This episode, the teams are split up by cities they grew up in. Gotham v. Star City. Naturally, his team is playing for the Wayne Foundation.

It’s a pretty odd cast of people, most of them having moved to LA or Hollywood. Bruce is the only one to still live in Gotham.

They have fun, though, despite their limited common ground. The audience has a few good laughs.

(Some at Bruce's expense)

Harvey: You're a very wealthy man, Mr. Wayne. What do you really do in that tower all day? Bruce: I, uh…business? Harvey: …You business. Bruce: ……Wait-

All in good fun. Bruce just vibes in his little corner until he needs to answer a question. It's pretty chill.

For exactly half of the episode.

Then it happens.

Steve Harvey takes two people from each team up to the buzzer and says, “We asked 100 people: Name something your parents always told you as a kid.”

What the production failed to consider is how this particular question might be a sensitive topic for some contestants.

Bruce’s team gets the question, and Steve saunters up to Bruce, completely oblivious.

“Alright, Bruce Wayne!” Bruce nods awkwardly. “Hi, Steve.” “Bruce, what’s wrong? You’re looking a bit uncomfortable.” “…I don’t like this question, Steve.” “Why not?” Bruce just gives him a desperate look, and it clicks. “Oh! Oh my gosh!”

Let’s be real. Bruce is awkward enough, but Steve Harvey cannot save an awkward moment for his life either.

But he tries his best anyway and asks, “Are you okay with answering this question, or would you like to pass?” Bruce nods frantically. “I can answer. ‘I love you.’” “I love you too, Mr. Wayne.” “No, uh, my answer is ‘I love you.’” “Oh! That’s a good one.”

Thankfully, the audience erupts in laughter. That little interaction cuts the tension, and Bruce’s answer ends up on the board.

And by god, the memes

“I love you too, Mr. Wayne” is the new “Enjoy your meal.” “You too.”

The audio clip of “I don’t like this question, Steve” goes viral on TikTok

Someone gets a pic of Bruce and Steve looking at each other with palpable fear in their eyes, and it makes its rounds all over Twitter

10/10 never again

Running Wild with Bear Grylls

Now this is the most challenging. Not because it’s difficult, of course. But because Bruce has to look stupid enough to maintain his Brucie Wayne persona but smart enough to keep himself safe.

For this episode, Bear takes Bruce to the California desert.

“How much do you know about survival, Bruce?” Bear asks. Bruce nods carefully. “I did some survival training once with a friend from boarding school.” “Oh really, how did you do?” “Fine, I think.”

This is, of course, his way of saying I trained with a league of assassins for years, but Bear can’t know that! And that’s how most of the episode goes.

Thank god Bruce's fear of being caught is mistaken for being scared of the physical challenge because every time Bear points out how well he’s doing, he breaks into a sweat.

Bear: For a businessman, you’re surprisingly fit. Bruce, sweating bullets: Oh, this is all just for show.

Bear: Wow, you’re a natural. Are you sure you’ve never set up a zip-line before? Bruce, gripping his equipment so tight he gets rope burn: I think it’s just the survival instincts.

Of course, he pretends to be out of breath a few times. The Drama.

Bruce, pretending to slip and fall: Ouch! Who knew the outdoors were so dangerous? Bear, you are crazy. Bruce, internally: How much longer are we doing this?

Bruce being a vegetarian is actually a point of contention. You see, Bear always makes their celebrity guests do something crazy for food like skin a snake or eat a mouse. Scavenging for berries just doesn’t grab the audience’s attention.

But do you know what is vegetarian?

Bear: Now, in extreme cases of survival, it’s not rare for humans to resort to drinking their own pee. That’s what we’ll be doing in a moment. Are you up for it? Bruce, visibly repulsed: I’ve had Gotham tap water. I’ll be fine.

How on God’s Green Earth did Alfred convince him to do this?

To get to the extraction point, Bear takes Bruce down a cliffside.

Bear shows Bruce the meticulous process of properly belaying from the top of a cliff, and Bruce, who has done this over 100 times is like, “Wow that’s so dangerous :( Will we be okay?”

He really tries to ramp up his acting skills this time.

(Little does he know that’s not necessary.)

Bruce goes down first as Bear belays with a cameraman filming from the top. Halfway down, Bruce hears a scuffle, and the cameraman yells, “F*ck!”

Bruce looks up, arms already out for protection, and he sees a small disk falling towards him. It’s the lens cap. He catches it on instinct.

For a second, he thinks, “Shit, was that too skilled? That’s not enough to make people think I’m Batman, right? I just caught it in midair while dangling from a cliff. That’s totally not weird and suspicious. Normal people do that—“

Then Bear yells, “Bruce, drop it!” Bruce looks up at Bear, confused. “Why?” “There's a scorpion!” That’s when Bruce looks at the lens cap and sees a black scorpion perched on top with its tail ready to strike.

They don’t have those in Gotham.

Bruce jumps in his harness and flings the cap at the rocky cliffside. He hears a crunch, and the scorpion and cap tumble to the ground. Bruce frowns. Can a scorpion survive that drop?

“You just killed a scorpion, mate!” Bear cries. Bruce looks up in horror. “I killed it?!” “Hell yeah!” Bruce’s face falls. “No!”

Because oh. shit.

Bruce just killed something. The sad, orphaned vegetarian just killed a scorpion.

Bruce has a meltdown.

He didn’t mean to kill it!!!! Oh no, he just killed an innocent little creature. Yeah, he punches people for fun sometimes, and he definitely put a few violent criminals in the hospital, but he’s never committed MURDER!!

This poor little scorpion died due to his own negligence, and he feels so so so bad about it.

Bruce is a mess as he climbs the rest of the way down.

Bruce, cradling the scorpion’s body: I don’t know how to perform CPR on a scorpion! Bear: Bruce, you took its head clean off. Bruce: *sad noises*

Legit inconsolable. To him, it’s like he just murdered a puppy

Once they're out, Bear is trying to cheer him up. Bless him.

Bear: We’ve conquered the wild! Haven’t we, Bruce? Bruce, head between his legs, still mourning the scorpion: I’m never going outside again.

Yeah, no one’s going to think he’s Batman after that.

And that's all four of Bruce's TV appearances from the West Coast :) Dick and Jason never let him live any of it down. Alfred is almost sorry. (He is not sorry.)

Let me know your thoughts! What other TV shows do you think Battinson would appear on as a guest?

Okie dokie :D Love y'all! Have a good day <3

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pricelessemotion · 6 months

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poltergeists for sidekicks | E.M.

summary: [2.3k] the kids drag eddie to the halloween store where you happen to work.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pining, eddie being a lovestruck idiot, r wears big prescription glasses and is described as having messy hair

a/n: happy halloween! here’s something i’ve been working on for ages just in time for the end of spooky szn! xoxo

masterlist

Eddie doesn’t hate Halloween.

He used to love Halloween. He likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors. He can appreciate the novelty of a hot apple cider and a hay ride. Hell, ever since he was old enough to go trick or treating, he reveled in it. Free candy and all he had to do was put on a costume and say three magic words? Sign him up.

As he got older, he started to like Halloween for a slightly different reason. Don’t get him wrong, he still liked the free candy, but he liked the excuse to be someone else for a night. He liked how he could throw on a Michael Meyers mask and go door-to-door and be greeted with glee and sweets.

It does a funny thing to a kid’s self-esteem, being treated better when he’s wearing the face of a fictional serial killer.

Now, though, Eddie Munson is decidedly too old for trick or treating. He’s resigned himself to spending the holiday like it was any other day by spending the night in his room, playing guitar, and coming up with new campaign ideas.

Which is exactly what he was doing when three freshmen started pounding down the door of the trailer demanding entry. Within moments, they are practically on their hands and knees asking, nay begging, for the older boy to take them to get last-minute Halloween costumes.

“Aren’t you guys too old to go trick or treating?”

“This is why we need to go to the store! If we wear masks, no one will be able to tell how old we are, hence extending our years of candy collecting.” Dustin explains, matter of factly.

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the sofa, steepling his fingers together. “What’s in it for me?”

The three boys huddle together, conspiring in a manner that is not dissimilar to the way they plan their counterstrikes during Hellfire. They nod in sync, turning around so that Lucas is standing front and center, flanked by the two other boys.

“That one girl you like is working there.”

Eddie remains stone-faced, quipping sarcastically, “That’s very specific.”

Mike lets out an exasperated groan, threading his fingers through his hair before yanking at the ends in frustration. “Y’know, the weird one. Coke bottle glasses, messy hair, always holding a book?”

Lucas’ eyes widen. Dustin smacks Mike on the chest and the hollow sound rings out through the empty trailer. They all start talking over each other, with two of them berating the third for A. being insensitive and B. expecting a good outcome from said insensitivity.

Eddie wants to make a comment that your hair is not messy, it’s actually more voluminous. Besides, his hair is messy and he likes to think it makes him look badass. The glasses comment was a little unfair. Sure, the frames are a similar shade to the iconic green of the bottles of Coca-Cola. But the magnification was endearing, leaning more towards doe-eyed than bug. Unfortunately, Eddie did not consider that while he was observing you, someone might’ve been observing him.

The assurance of your presence is how Eddie ends up here, parked outside of a hardware store turned seasonal shop. He’s helping his friends. He’s supporting a local business and therefore contributing to the local economy! You being here is just a bonus.

A bell rings above them as he swings open the door, the motion setting off a scratchy pre-recorded cackle. He’s gotta hand it to whoever is running the store. They’ve gone out of their way to transform the dingy overhead fluorescents and worn-out linoleum into something that actually resembles an eerie boutique.

“Welcome in! I’ll be right witch you!” Your voice lilts out from the depths.

You appear out of the darkness, expertly weaving under fake cobwebs and pushing aside fanciful drapes that have no doubt been strung up precariously around the store to add to the ambiance. You’ve got a witch’s hat on, tall and black and pointy, which further explains the pun you greeted them with.

“How can I help you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your glasses.

The younger boys barely spare you a glance, just a chorus of we’re good! before running off to the other side of the store, where all of the costumes are located.

You barely blink at their rudeness. Whether that’s indicative of your experience in customer service or due to your generally sunny disposition, Eddie isn’t sure. You turn your smile and magnified gaze at him, “What about you?”

Eddie startles only slightly. He begins to peek over his shoulder as if there’s somebody else in the mostly deserted store that you could be talking to. What about him?

“Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came here with–” He gestures vaguely in the direction that the boys wandered off to. “The little shits that left me in the dust.”

You bark out a laugh, a small smile settling on your lips. “It’s sweet of you to help them out.”

Eddie only blushes in response, murmuring a quiet it’s nothing, scratching the back of his neck like he might find a switch that’ll make him remember how to talk like a normal human being.

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

You pick up a clipboard and a pen and start leisurely strolling down the decor aisle, making inconsequential markings on the paper. Whenever you come across gaps in the shelves you reach back into them, pulling the products to the front edge with a concentration that is quite adorable.

He’s definitely staring by now. Feigning interest in a skull-shaped candy bowl, Eddie scrambles for something, anything to keep the conversation going. “I’m surprised you’re not busier.”

“You just missed the afternoon rush.” You say, straightening a pair of plastic tarantulas that have gone askew. “Not too many people came today, though. I guess they realized that it’s so close to the holiday that the shelves would be picked over.”

“Really?”

You shrug, “I think by October 30th, most people figure if they’re gonna dress up, they’d rather just pull together something from their closets than spend money. We’re actually busier the day after Halloween because everything gets marked down and people want cheap candy.”

“Makes sense.” He nods. “So, I take it you’re a big fan of Halloween?”

Your smile is apprehensive as if you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. Your fingers brush the brim of the witch’s hat. “What gave me away?”

He falls into step beside you, clasping his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “I just had a feeling.” Then, feeling much braver than usual, he adds, “I like your outfit.”

You look at him again, clutching the clipboard to your chest. For once, your eyes are leaning more towards bug-eyed. The black velvet dress has draped sleeves and a skirt that swishes with every step. Orange and black striped tights protect your legs from the inevitable chill that comes with October in Indiana. “You do?”

“I do.” He insists, “It totally adds to the magical vibe. If you told me that you were an actual witch and this was just something you do to pass the time I’d one hundred percent believe you.”

All apprehension has slipped off your face, replaced by a genuine smile that cracks open his chest. “Thanks…” You trail off.

“Eddie.” He supplies.

“Well thank you, Eddie. I’d tell you my name but I’m guessing I don’t have to.” You say, rubbing the plastic name plate on your chest.

Eddie does know your name, but it isn’t because of your name tag. He was far too proud to ask around for your name, and far too afraid of rejection to ask you himself. He’d been lucky enough to get a library book right after you. He’d pulled the weathered paper from the slip, seen your name at the bottom of the checkout card, traced the loopy letters with the pad of his fingers. It had definitely been more than a little pathetic.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat, trying to maintain any semblance of nonchalance. “Do you have any plans for Halloween?”

Your face slowly lifts from the clipboard, twirling your pen between swift fingers polished in a deep burgundy. Directing your gaze at him, you peer through dark lashes and Eddie’s never been more thankful for the inventor of coke bottle glasses. The magnification allows him to see the spark of intrigue dancing across your pupils.

“I was just gonna stay home. Maybe help my mom pass out candy.” The implication of the last sentence seems to hit you. You look down again, scrunching up your nose. Eddie finds it endearing how your first instinct is honesty rather than anything else.

“Cool. That’s cool,” Eddie says in a manner that is decidedly uncool. He fiddles with his rings before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I was wondering if—”

Suddenly, Eddie feels stupid for getting lost in your eyes and not paying attention to his surroundings. Maybe then he would’ve noticed how the linoleum got ever so slightly softer under the soles of worn-out boots. He would’ve seen the cloaked figure looming in the alcove, waiting for some unwitting soul to step on the pressure plate.

Unfortunately, Eddie did not see any of those things. The poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever the fuck it is swings out. He stumbles backward, releasing a shriek that is so high-pitched, that he wonders if he should start tapping into his upper range. Maybe it would add more texture to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night sets.

Instinctively, his arms fly backward, as if to protect you. He stumbles right into you, and he’s sure that if you didn’t grab his waist from behind, you would’ve fallen right over. Unfortunately, the movement has both of you careening back into a shelf, sending bags of overpriced candy and shitty Halloween decorations tumbling to the ground in a cascade of all things creepy and corny. He quickly spins around.

“Shit, are you–”

“I’m so sorry!”

“I should’ve warned you–”

At that moment, chests heaving and hearts racing, you both seem to realize that your hands are still grazing Eddie’s waist. You spring apart, scrambling to clean up the display, haphazardly grabbing the fallen items and placing them back in their rightful places on the shelves. Among them is your hat, another casualty of the calamity.

“I should’ve warned you,” You say again, slightly out of breath. “That thing nearly scares me to death every other day.”

“It’s fine. I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking. It just added to the whole spooktacular experience.” He picks up the hat from the floor, dusting it off. “I think this belongs to you.”

You give a bashful smile, but instead of putting the accessory in your outstretched hand, he gingerly places it on top of your head. Your glasses have slid down your nose from bending over to clean up his mess, and his thumbs gently push the joints of the frames until they’re sitting in their rightful place.

“There,” He punctuates his statement with a resolute tug on your hat, making sure it’s securely on your head. “Perfect.”

You preen at him, eyes sparkling, before you cast them down at the floor. Dustin comes running around the corner, closely followed by Mike and Lucas. All of them are carrying armfuls of miscellaneous Halloween supplies, obviously alarmed at the clamor, but not alarmed enough that they didn’t take their sweet time coming from the opposite end of the store. Eddie takes advantage of your bashfulness and distinctly shoots them a look that says get the hell out of here. Dustin’s eyes dart between the two of you before they widen and his mouth forms a small oh. He sends Eddie an exaggerated wink, walking backward in order to not interrupt the private moment, dragging his two friends along with him.

“Thanks,” You smile at him. “For protecting me. I know who to bring with me if I ever want to walk through a haunted house.”

He gives a lopsided grin, “My pleasure.”

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, “Anyways, what are your plans for Halloween?”

This is it. This is the moment that Eddie has been waiting for since he put down his guitar and his notebook and opened the trailer door.

“That depends.” He clasps his hands behind his back, jutting his chin up in the air. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I get off at four.”

“The Hawk is doing this continuous horror movie marathon. Maybe you would want to go?” Eddie’s fingers are practically vibrating with excitement. He nearly forgets the most important part. “With me? I mean— Only if you like horror movies, I just figured because I’ve seen you walking around with that Stephen King novel. NOT that I’ve been watching you or anything!”

You let out a small giggle. The fact that you’re laughing and smiling is a good sign, even if it is slightly at his expense. He decides to lean into self-deprecation, hoping it’ll seem more charming than desperate.

“I’d say I don’t scare easily, but I think we’d both know that’s a lie by now.”

You scribble something near the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, delicately folding it and ripping it off before placing it in Eddie’s palm.

“Well, I’ve heard horror movies are less scary if you have someone to hold your hand.”

It doesn’t even matter that a ghost animatronic essentially acted as his wingman. The note with your number on it sits heavily in his pocket, thumb tracing over looped ink. Even though it’s cold as shit, he embarrassed himself, and signs of the spooky season decorate every corner, Eddie has a smile that rivals even the best of jack-o-lanterns.

As Eddie turns off towards the dirt path that leads to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the smile still hasn’t faded.

For once, the streets of Hawkins seem a little less haunted.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #mimi wrote ✍️#poltergeists for sidekicks

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batfleshh · 6 months

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Early Morning

GhostSoap X M!Reader

Warnings: fluff because I can’t handle whatever the fuck that campaign was., cuddling and kissing, small make out sesh, poly gs+r, off duty boys, not many warnings tbh

Waking up on the weekends always felt refreshing, especially when you were surrounded by warmth. You push your face against a chest in front of you, not really bothering to check who’s it was. You could hear quiet whispers and mumbles, and a hand pushing its fingers through your hair. A small noise of content is exhaled through your nose, the body behind you that was supplying the equal side of the warmth shuffles around a bit, pushing up against you more than it was before.

As you finally listen in to what’s happening around you, you realize the chest your pressed against is Johnnys. A warmth blossoms in your chest, a smile curling up on your face. Your eyes are still closed, not wanting to be fully awake to the world yet. You reach a hand back slowly and feel around for Simon behind you, his hand quickly finding yours. He grabs ahold of it and squeezes, letting you know he knows you’re awake as he continues to talk to Soap. It seemed pretty early, the room not looking that light. It wasn’t unusual for them to be awake early, usually used to immediately getting up in the mornings and being off to work.

You hear Ghost say something involving you, and the next thing you know you feel Soap lifting your head up gently, his lips kissing your face as you open your eyes to him. “Well good mornin’ love. Hope we didn’t wake you.”, he says, the touch of his soft lips leave a fluttering feeling in your chest. You shake your head at his words, your hand still holding Simons rougher one. You feel the older male behind you move his face down to the nape of your neck, his lips pressing against it softly.

“Mornin’, dear.”, you hear Simon mumble against your skin, a hum of acknowledgment leaving your throat. Laying between the both of them made you feel safer, the feeling of it bringing you a comfort that you didn’t know you needed. You feel Ghost move himself back up to continue his talk with Johnny, his hand still holding on to yours. Your eyes travel up to stare at Johnny as he talks, his accent captivating you every time it slips out when he talks. Your look doesn’t go unnoticed as he glances down at you a few times, a smile appearing ever so slightly every time he did as you looked up in awe.

Soap leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, a soft chuckle rumbling from his chest as you chase after his lips as he attempts to pull away. He looks over at Ghost and glances down at you, pushing his lips against yours again and deepening it, letting his tongue slip in. You feel Simon let go of your hand, moving it up your body to grab at your chin gently. Ghost moves down to bite at your neck softly, marking it while he holds your face in place for Soap.

When they both pull away, you’re all breathing heftily. They both loved showing you how much they loved you, every piece lining up perfectly when you three had moments like that. As excited as you were from the attention, drowsiness was still nagging at you. You mumble as you move back down to push your face into Johnnys chest. You sigh calmly as you feel Ghost push against your back, a deep breath leaving him as he rests against you. Soap follows in behind you both and rests his head against the pillow, moving his face closer to you and closing his eyes. You all loved your moments together, and it would only take death for you three to be apart.

~ ★

1K notes · View notes

hcrringtonsbat · 2 years

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 (𝐄.𝐌.)

summary: over the course of your friendship, eddie never noticed that you didn’t swear. he took it upon himself to find a way to change that. it was pure chance that you were also screaming his name in the process. [4.7k+ words]

warnings: smut (18+ minors dni), fingering, oral (female receiving), humping, dirty talk

pairing: eddie munson x female!best friend!reader

a/n: oh. my. goodness.this is the first full-blown fic that i’ve written in a while and my first ever published smut. this is probably my favorite thing i’ve ever written & the longest. as always, i hope you enjoy and I encourage you to interact with this. i’d really appreciate it. *also, i know hellraiser comes out in 1987… just pretend it didn’t for my sake <3

part 2

“Ouch! Motherlover!” You exclaimed out of the blue, breaking the silence in the room. You shook your left hand vigorously, hoping to alleviate the pain that struck your pointer finger.

After examining the injury, you gazed up at Eddie sitting on his throne. He had a look on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher. He looked slightly concerned, hearing you cry out in pain had startled him but on the other hand, it seemed as if he could burst out laughing at any second.

“Papercut.” You explained, holding up your finger so that he could see.

A smirk appeared on his face, “I figured. Looks gnarly.” Eddie’s tone was laced with sarcasm.

The two of you were currently in the drama room at Hawkins High School. Hellfire had just been slaughtered by the Cult of Vecna and was in need of a new campaign. Everyone in the club was itching to prove to not only themselves but Eddie that they were capable of outsmarting him and beating his new labyrinth of a campaign.

You weren’t Dungeon Master but, you were his best friend and a big help when it came to brainstorming. Eddie often found that whenever the two of you were riffing off of the top of each other's heads, he came up with the best ideas. So, it wasn’t unusual that you’d stay late after school to help him.

“What?” His sarcastic response didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Nothing.” He shrugged, still smirking. Eddie peaked at you from behind his hair to see that you weren’t buying it.

You poked his arm in the same spot where his bat tattoo was permanently etched into his skin, “C’mon. What?”

If Eddie knew you half as well as he thought he did, he should’ve guessed that you would probe, “It’s just-” He paused and chuckled to himself, “Motherlover? Really Y/N.”

“What? I always say that!”

“Yeah, exactly. You always say “motherlover” He air quoted, “I mean, what’s wrong with just saying motherfucker and moving on?”

“Nothing’s wrong with swearing. It’s just not my thing.” You shrugged as you continued to scribble away in your notebook.

Even when the two of you were harebrained freshmen, ripe for the picking, Eddie can’t recall hearing you curse. He just assumed that it was because your innocence was still lively & intact.

But as time went on and your age increased, you would stay out past your curfew, unbeknownst to your parents. Or you would indulge in smoking with Eddie at his trailer. So, it wasn’t like you were some goodie-two-shoes who got on her knees every Sunday to pray and repent for her sins.

Eddie reached across the table and closed the book you were writing in. Then, he proceeded to gently snatch it away from you and slide it across the empty table. The two of you watched as it slid off the edge and smacked the floor.

“I was using that.” It would be a lie if you said you were surprised that he’d do something like that but, that’s just who Eddie is. A man that goes to great lengths to get your undivided attention.

“I call bullshit,” Eddie began, adjusting his position in his throne so that one of his legs was thrown haphazardly across the wooden arm, “Out of all of the crazy, ridiculous, rash stunts that we’ve pulled over the course of our friendship… you draw the line at swearing?”

“I mean, Henderson curses more than you and he’s like… twelve.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s fourteen,” You corrected.

“Don’t try and change the subject, princess.” Eddie deadpanned, not breaking eye contact.

Your mind flashed away from your current conversation to a dream that you had maybe three nights ago.

Eddie’s face was burrowed between your thighs, licking up your cunt before stopping at your clit and swirling his tongue, the way that drove you crazy.

Despite everything, despite your legs wrapped around his shoulders, despite his hair covering the top half of his face, he never broke eye contact with you. Not even for a second.

“You like that, princess?” He asked you before continuing to lap at your pussy.

You were instantly transported back to where you sat. In a room with Eddie. Not in his trailer sprawled out on his bed, “What have I told you about calling me Princess?” You pointed an accusatory finger at him.

He swatted it away as quickly as you lifted it, “How ‘bout this. I’ll stop when you tell me to shut the fuck up.”

You protested, “No, I’m not doing that!”

“How about shut the hell up. That’s better, right?” Eddie continued, refusing to let up.

Despite his best efforts, you still stood your ground, “Gosh, no, Eddie!”

“Alright,” He paused. You could tell by how his eyebrows were furrowed and how he mindlessly twirled his rings that he was thinking and hadn’t given up yet.

“Telling me to stick it where the sun shines?” He proposed, “It’s a step in the right direction, huh?” Eddie smiled.

At this, you didn’t even try and protest. You just shook your head and rose from your chair, walking to the end of the table and retrieving the notebook that Eddie had so kindly flung across the room.

Returning to your seat, you opened the page you’d been working on and finished your thoughts.

A few seconds passed before Eddie realized that you were intentionally ignoring him. He scoffed, “Jesus H Christ. You’re hopeless, princess.”

You swallowed, trying so hard not to go back to the deep crevices of your mind that thought of Eddie that way. He’s your best friend. Get yourself together. You told yourself.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll get there one day.”

He used this nickname so often that it could’ve doubled as your name. But today, you couldn’t stand to have him call you anything other than Y/N. You had to change the subject or else you’d be clenching your thighs the entire drive home.

“Hey!” You whacked his hand closest to you.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe we could’ve had the new beast for this month's campaign if you weren’t such an asshole?” Another whack, this time on his kneecap.

“One day.” He reiterated before scribbling something on a scratch sheet of paper, completely ignorant to the pool of desire he caused to form in your underwear just by simply calling you a name.

˚ · •. ° .

The entire room erupted in whoops and hollers as Frank Cotton’s dismembered body panned into the frame. Jeff stood on the edge of his loveseat while Gareth clapped at the television screen. Eddie on the other hand remained silent, focusing on the movie.

Occasionally, members of Hellfire gathered at Jeff’s house to watch a horror movie. Today, it was decided that you’d be watching Hellraiser.

This was a very different pick from your run-of-the-mill Nightmare on Elm Street or Friday the 13th. Hellraiser breached a new level of gore and Eddie was forced to step in as dungeon master and forbid the younger members of Hellfire to participate in this particular flick.

“I don’t want to be responsible for replacing your bedsheets.” He’d said when talking to Dustin, which resulted in Eddie being told off with some expletives.

Although he didn’t tell you, Eddie considered asking if you wanted to sit this one out. He remembers how nervous you looked when people started getting slaughtered left and right by Jason Voorhees. From how Gareth described it, Hellraiser made all the other movies you’d watched seem like a walk in the park.

Now, you sat next to him, squirming slightly in your seat on Jeff’s couch. Eddie turned his head to glance at you, expecting to see you looking away from the carnage on screen but, he was mistaken.

You didn’t peel away from the bloodshed. Not even for a second. He should’ve known that you’d do this. Be stubborn and stare the violence down, even if all you wanted to do was shield your eyes.

Eddie thought of a way to add fuel to the fire.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder. As expected, you didn’t even bat an eyelash. This was something that Eddie did so often during these movies that it became second nature.

He gave you a few seconds to adjust to his arm before he inched in closer to your ear and whispered, “Are you creeped out?” Despite his devious intentions, it was a genuine question.

If Eddie got even a sense that this was starting to get too much for you, he would’ve whisked you out of there.

“Uh-uh.” You shook your head, still keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

Eddie pressed on, “Are you sure? I can tell them to turn it off… princess.” He added at the last second.

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

Suddenly, you became hyperaware of everything. The way Eddie’s arm was draped across your shoulder, the weight of his chest as it pressed against you, his thigh glued to yours, his breath fanning across your neck as he spoke… everything.

If this movie wasn’t going to be the death of you, he sure was.

Despite everything your body was urging you to do, you didn’t give in. You just kept a neutral look on your face and paid him no attention.

“Oh, don’t be that way,” He urged, “You’re not gonna tell me to fuck off, princess?” There was an edge to his voice.

It was no surprise that you felt wetness begin to pool in your underwear for the second time this week. Lord. If only he was aware of the things he did to me, maybe he wouldn’t do them at all.

“C’mon, Y/N. Just say one bad word, for me?” He begged. When he said this, the typical playfulness in his voice was gone, nowhere to be found.

You tore your eyes from the television, but when you looked at Eddie’s face only to see that signature Cheshire cat grin upon his face, you knew you fell for it.

All Eddie wanted was for you to give in. It wasn’t the thing he’d longed for you to do the most but, it was still something. A step in the right direction, he’d said earlier this week.

He was itching to say it again now. Instead, he opted for, “Progress, Princess. I’ll crack you soon enough.”

Just like that, Eddie turned his attention back to the movie. He left his arm draped around you but other than that, there was no indication that he’d ever interacted with you.

You gaped at him for a moment. How could he just-? Why would he-? Is he just gonna do something like that, right here, right now, and pretend like he doesn’t know the effect he has on me? You thought.

“Y/N!” A voice ripped you from your thoughts.

Gareth looked on edge, “Are you even watching? This movie cost like $15 to rent at Family Video. The least you could do is pretend you’re interested.” He scolded.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to stand on Jeff’s coffee table and yell what Eddie just did, how he riled you up only to leave you high and dry.

But what good would that do? Admitting that your best friend made you wet just by whispering in your ear?

It would just result in teasing from Jeff and Gareth– maybe even Eddie himself. You could hear him now, “Sweetheart, if I make you that hot and bothered all you have to do is use your words like a big girl, ‘kay?”

You bit your tongue, opting for the rational option. To keep watching the movie and pretending as if nothing had happened.

˚ · • . ° .

Three days later, you found yourself experiencing merciless teasing at the hands of Eddie Munson again. Well– not exactly. At least not yet but, you could feel it coming.

Even with your inhibitions low, even with a blunt laced through your fingers… you just knew.

You were currently sitting in Eddie’s bed, sharing a blunt and talking about nothing in particular while he tuned his guitar. Right now, your eyes were closed, listening to him pluck away.

You felt his bed even out and you opened your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to see where the man was going.

He grabbed a pick that was on his desk. Your head fell back against his pillow when you realized he wasn’t going far.

As the bed dipped down, you heard a bang against the wall followed by, “Shit!” Eddie cursed.

This time, you sat all the way up, seeing Eddie grab his elbow, “I hit my funny bone.” He explained, taking another second to breathe before extending his arm in your direction, signaling for you to pass the joint.

“I think that’s enough guitar for me today.” He joked, before taking a long, deep, inhale to let the smoke enter his lungs before exhaling it all out.

“You should take a page outta my book and try not to curse.” You said, resting your head against the wall for support.

Eddie looked at you, taking another drag, “And why would I do that when it’s just so…” He searched for the right word, “Fun? Liberating?” He couldn’t decide.

“How about neither?” You challenged.

You had no idea why you started to antagonize your best friend. Maybe you just wanted to get the teasing out of the way since it’s been a little while since the last time he tried to get you to swear.

Or, maybe you were hoping it lead to somewhere else.

“You think you’re better than me, huh?” Eddie smirked, “You’ve got some superiority kink or something.”

You decided to throw him a bone, “I do have the urge to curse sometimes.”

“Oh yeah? And when is that?” He asked, interest piqued.

“When I get hurt. Like the other day in the drama room. I don’t think you realize how close I was to actually saying it.”

You extended your arm and pried the blunt from Eddie’s lips, “And stop hogging this.”

“So, you don’t wanna swear like a sailor any other time?” He inquired, not even phased that you stole his joint away from him.

Eddie decided that you could keep that one since it was almost gone anyway. He reached for his tin “lunchbox” and grabbed another pre-rolled blunt. He’d probably pinch himself later, knowing that it was supposed to be for a customer but, right now, he didn’t care.

“Not even when you’re touching yourself?” Eddie asked so nonchalantly as he fumbled with his lighter. He said it as casually as you’d ask about the weather or if someone was enjoying their meal.

If you knew he would have dropped a bombshell like that, you never would have brought it up in the first place.

“W-what?” You managed to sputter out, “Why would you even ask me something like that?”

He sighed, “Don’t tell me I struck a nerve, princess?” There he goes. With that nickname again.

Oh, you struck a nerve, alright.

“We never talk about stuff like this is all.” Your brain didn’t even know what to make out of this interaction.

“There’s no time like the present, sweetheart,” Eddie replied, staring you down, “So, what’s the answer?”

You thought about the different ways to reply. You could continue to hold out, refusing to entertain Eddie’s ideas. Or you could give in and end this cycle of desire and damp panties.

Eddie obviously got tired of waiting for you to respond and decided to throw another question into the mix, “What about when someone else touches you?”

And just when you thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, they did.

“No.” You answered definitively.

I don’t want someone else. I want you. You thought but didn’t dare say.

“Hmm.” Eddie nodded his head at this newfound information and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding in.

Thank God the 3rd degree was finally ove-

“So when Harrington went to town,” He started, “You weren’t itching to say anything?”

You had a brief (and I mean brief) romantic history with Steve Harrington.

During your junior year, the two of you went on one date together to the drive-in movie theater just outside of Hawkins. It was a nice experience but, you found yourself longing to be watching a different movie with Hellfire– well, Eddie.

You mentioned hanging out with Steve to Eddie once. You were shocked that he remembered it but what shocked you even more was that he assumed Steve “went to town.”

“Considering we never even got that far, no.” You admitted, thankful to put that rumor to rest, whether he’d conjured it up in his head or heard it roaming the halls.

But of course, knowing Eddie, he just had to be thorough. He asked again, just to clarify, “So Harrington never…?”

“Nope.”

Eddie took a beat, mentally taking notes. Good.

Another question popped into his mind and with him already on his second blunt of the night, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Has anyone ever?”

“No.”

He hummed, then took another slow drag of his blunt, making you wait in anticipation for what he was going to say next, “If it makes you feel any better, no guy at school knows anything worth a damn.”

You couldn’t hold back the scoff that passed your lips. “Right. And you do?” If Eddie could tease you, you could tease him right back.

Eddie had taken home his fair share of people after shows at The Hideout, mostly people just itching to say they’ve slept with someone in a band. He was surprised that hearing you doubt his abilities in bed stung him so much.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” He stopped, then added under his breath, “I bet I could have you screaming.”

You heard him, heard what he said… what he was alluding to. Your breath caught in your throat and you forced yourself to swallow it down. Get ahold of yourself. He’s only teasing.

Eddie didn’t intend for you to hear what he said but, would it be such a bad thing that you did?

He can’t recall the last time he looked at you as strictly his best friend. The two of you crossed borders that a typical duo wouldn’t: sleeping in each other’s beds, holding hands when a movie got a bit too scary, Eddie kissing your forehead before he left your house.

And that was just the surface level. God only knows how much the two of you had practically seeped into each other’s skin after your years of friendship.

With everything going on right now, Eddie’s inhibitions lowered, the feeling of his cock tightening in his jeans at the prospect of you two finally crossing that godforsaken line… he couldn’t stop himself.

“C’mon, princess. Don’t try and act all high and mighty now like you haven’t thought of me that way.” He started, fully expecting you to smack him on the side of the head but, you didn’t.

Eddie kept going, “Like you haven’t thought about me with my head between those pretty thighs.”

“I haven’t.” You gulped, your hand traveled up your arm and stopped at your elbow.

After knowing each other for years, it was obvious that you’d pick up on one another’s habits. Certain words that you’d coin, your favorite items of clothing… when you were lying.

The number of times you’d call your parents from Eddie’s house, claiming that the two of you were studying when in actuality you weren’t. He noticed the way you scratched your elbow while lying through your teeth.

Just like you were right now.

“Mosquito bite?” He asked, pointing out your nervous tick, “Or did you hit your funny bone too?” He smirked.

“E-Eddie,” You stuttered, “Trying to seduce me isn’t gonna get me to say a bad word.” You chuckled nervously.

“Really?” He said, unconvinced, “When have you, Y/N Y/L/N, ever backed down from a challenge?”

Suddenly, you realized how close in proximity the two of you were. For the second time in the past week, you could feel his body heat radiating from his chest.

“Y/N…” He continued in a sing-song tone, “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were staring at my hands while I played my guitar.”

“Were you thinking about these fingers fucking your pussy?” Eddie held up his ring-clad fingers and whispered in your ear.

“God, Eddie,” You exhaled, “Are you really taking this that far?”

This was your final attempt. It was the last time you were going to resist what your body was screaming at you to do… Let Eddie take you right here, right now, on his bed.

“Tell me to stop, Princess. Tell me to let it go and I will. Promise.” He extended his pinky finger.

You didn’t take it.

“So, is that a yes?” Eddie asked, scanning your body for any indication that you didn’t want this. That was the last thing he wanted to do, make you uncomfortable.

But with the way your chest heaved up and your thighs were pressed together, he knew.

“Mhm.” You nodded.

Eddie tutted, “Uh-uh, Sweetheart. Use your words.”

This was it. You knew once you uttered these words, your friendship with Eddie would be changed forever. It would breach uncharted territory. The thought of that should have terrified you but, it didn’t. You longed for this.

And right now, wanting his calloused fingers inside of you trumped any hesitation that could’ve formed.

“Yes.”

Smirking, Eddie moved from his seated position and climbed to the edge of the bed. He pulled your ankles with enough force so that you were lying down.

Crawling back up, Eddie hovered over you, his hair falling in your face while his hands started to unbutton your jeans, “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this, Y/N/N.”

Eddie took his sweet time. He slowly tugged down your zipper and began to peel your pants off of your body. Your hips bucked up so that he could get them past your ass and down to your ankles. He gave them a final pull before they fell onto the floor.

He returned to his position above you. Eddie maintained intense eye contact with you before cupping your clothed pussy.

“You’re so warm, Sweetheart. I bet you’re wet too, hmm?” He used his pointer finger to push your panties to the side, lightly grazing your clit in the process.

He was right. Arousal practically dripped from your pussy and right onto his bedsheets, “Fuck,” He sighed, “Is this all for me?”

“Y-yeah. All for you, Eds.” Your voice was breathy as you tried not to moan in anticipation.

He hummed approvingly before taking his hand away, letting your underwear fall right back into place.

Suddenly, his attention fell onto your neck. Eddie left a trail of kisses starting at your collar bone and kissed up to your earlobe, “Take them off for me, Princess.” He demanded.

You didn’t waste any time, using both hands to slide out of your panties. Before you could toss them aside, Eddie grabbed them from you and shoved them into his pocket, “Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I’ll give them back later.”

You felt his fingers brush the inside of your thigh, inches away from where you wanted him the most. You waited a few more seconds, trying to gauge his next move.

When his fingers kept dancing in between your thighs, you whined, “Eddie, if you’re not going to do anything-” Oh.

You felt as 3 of Eddie’s fingers slipped into your pussy. You could feel the ice-cold rings that littered his fingers brush against your inner thigh as he continued working, curling his fingers.

Eddie began to pump his fingers in and out of you, feeling your chest rise and fall. Lewd sounds and whimpers slipped past your lips when he brought his thumb to your clit and began to flick the bundle of nerves.

His cock strained against his jeans hearing you whine from underneath him, “Cat got your tongue, Princess? Don’t worry, I’ll have you screaming pretty soon.” He smirked.

Eddie increased his pace, which had your moans getting louder and louder each time his thumb circled your bud. Your eyes were snapped shut and your knuckles were white because of how hard you were gripping his bedsheets.

You felt heat begin to rise in the pit of your stomach, “I’m so close, Eds. Keep going.” You begged him.

His fingers didn’t let up as he began to slowly inch down the length of your body. Eddie used his free hand to spread your legs wider before positioning himself between them.

“You’re close, angel? Do you want to cum?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You moaned, arching your back.

“Say it.” You could feel Eddie’s breath fan across your clit.

Even in the heat of the moment, with Eddie’s fingers so furiously pounding your cunt to death, he still didn’t give up.

“Eddie. Please, just, please.” You groaned.

His fingers began to slow down. The coil that was building in your stomach began to fade away as he started to remove his fingers from your pussy.

“What are you doing?” You whimpered at the loss of contact and peered down at where Eddie was perched.

“Say it and I’ll keep going.”

Jesus. Is he really going to pull something like this? Right now out of all moments?!

Eddie could see the cogs churning in your head. He decided to make things even harder for you by placing a ginger kiss right on your clit, causing you to moan.

He’s officially won.

“Fuck! Just…” You stuttered, “Just fucking let me finish, please!” You pleaded, finally giving in after almost 2 weeks of being stubborn.

“Good girl.” He praised before hiking both of your legs up in the air and throwing them behind his shoulders.

He wasted no time, getting immediately back to work by showing your clit the most love and attention. Eddie licked a stripe up your cunt causing you to gasp.

You could feel waves of heat build-up again, followed by the coil threatening to snap as he continued to lap at your pussy.

Eddie glanced up and saw the way you were clutching his sheets for dear life. He peeled your left hand away and guided it to the back of his head. You then added your right hand into his locks without assistance, “Shit! Eddie, I’m almost there.”

You felt your orgasm approach as you began to clench around nothing and grind onto his face. The hands that were intertwined in his hair tugged on it, causing his face to angle slightly upward towards you.

As flashes of light began to cloud your vision, signaling to yourself that you finally reached your high and came all over Eddie’s sheets, you felt the bed begin to shake.

Shit, was my orgasm that powerful? You thought, highly confused.

You felt Eddie’s movements come to a stop. His head was still laid between your thighs, your fingers were still laced through his mane, pulling on it.

Holy. Shit.

You were frozen in your spot when you realized what was really happening. It wasn’t your orgasm that was so intense that caused the bed to shake, it was Eddie. Humping it. It really shouldn’t have gotten you as riled up as it did.

“Fuck, Princess. You’ve got me going feral.” He grunted, continuing to pound his mattress into oblivion.

You didn’t remove your hands from his hair as he continued to fuck his mattress. You watched, dumbfounded, and highly turned on because of this.

For almost two weeks, Eddie had been teasing you nonstop. Constantly doing things to intentionally get you turned on. You decided that it was your turn to add fuel to the fire, “Good boy.”

“Jesus. Fuck. God, I wish this mattress was you right now.” His head fell on your thigh and kissed it.

“Shit!” He swore once more, before letting out a grunt, letting you know that he had finished.

The aggressive movements came to an abrupt stop and he stood up and climbed fully into bed. He brushed away the hair that was matted to your forehead with sweat.

“That was….” Eddie sighed, flopping his head next to yours.

“Fun? Liberating?” You quoted him from earlier that night.

He scoffed, “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Fuck yeah.” You said, loud and proudly.

A grin slowly appeared on Eddie’s face. You swore, without even being provoked, “That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of your forehead.

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #strangerthings #stranger things imagine #jey writes #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #Eddie Munson smut oneshot

16K notes · View notes

lecsainz · 7 months

Note

Hope you're doing amazing! I love your blog so much! I come here almost every other day to day dream about my favourites and read your pieces again and again. Could i request Carlos x reader fic where Carlos comforts the reader after some reporters prod into their private life and the reader feels overwhelmed... Angst to fluff and maybe smut in the end?

SHE’S A BAD BAD GIRL

parings: carlos sainz x famous!reader

authors note: I gotta say, mixing a bit of AU with regular fanfic, can I just say I love doing magazine features?

summary: that one where the media makes up stuff about your relationship with carlos but he ain't gonna let that shake our relationship.

☆. . . masterlist !

Exclusive Source Reveals Startling Insights Into the Relationship of F1's Rising Star and the Elusive Heiress

The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?

By TMZ Magazine - September 2023

In the glitzy world of fame and fortune, where the line between reality and illusion often blurs, power couples are born just as swiftly as they fade away.

None have captured the public's attention quite like that of Formula 1 sensation Carlos Sainz Jr. and the enigmatic heiress Y/N Y/L/N. This power couple's whirlwind romance has been the subject of intense speculation, with many questioning the authenticity of their love. In a TMZ exclusive, we delve into the inner workings of their seemingly sensational union, revealing what lies beneath the surface.

It's no secret that the world of celebrity romance often blurs the lines between genuine affection and calculated publicity. In the case of Carlos Sainz Jr. and Y/N Y/L/N, sources close to the couple suggest that their relationship might be more PR strategy than a heartfelt connection. Our exclusive source, a close friend of the couple, disclosed that the pair has carefully orchestrated their romance to maximize benefits on both ends.

"They both know that being in the spotlight can help boost their respective careers," our source shared. "They decided it's a mutually beneficial arrangement. Carlos gets more media coverage, and Y/N can use his popularity to her advantage."

Y/N Y/L/N, the elusive heiress whose life has been shrouded in mystery, has raised eyebrows with her numerous high-profile relationships over the years. It's no secret that she's been romantically linked to at least eight A-list celebrities, including musicians, actors, and even fellow heirs. Despite her apparent aversion to fame and the media circus that surrounds it, Y/N has consistently found herself in the headlines due to her high-profile affairs.

"The irony is that Y/N has always claimed to hate the attention that comes with dating famous people," our source revealed. "Yet, she's continued to choose partners from the same world she professes to despise."

As the couple's relationship has garnered more attention, their PR teams have been working tirelessly to manage the narrative. They've employed tactics such as carefully timed public appearances, social media posts, and interviews to keep the public intrigued and invested in their romance. This calculated approach, however, has led many to question the authenticity of their connection.

"Their teams are skilled at using the media to their advantage," our source admitted. "It's all about perception and maintaining their status as a 'power couple.'"

As the world continues to watch this captivating couple's every move, one question lingers: Is their love story genuine, or is it a calculated maneuver to seize the attention of the masses and advance their respective careers? Are Carlos and Y/N truly in love, or are they orchestrating a well-choreographed PR campaign for mutual benefit?

Stay tuned for more exclusive updates and revelations from TMZ Magazine.

Y/N lay sprawled across the plush sofa in the cozy living room of her shared home with Carlos in Spain. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting warm rays of light across the room. She'd been catching up on some reading when her phone buzzed incessantly, drawing her attention away from the book.

The headline on her screen was impossible to miss: "The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?" The TMZ article had surfaced online, and her heart sank as she read through the scandalous claims about their relationship. It was a relentless invasion of their privacy, dissecting their love as if it were a staged performance.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, and she felt overwhelmed by the intrusion into their lives. She knew she had to confront this with Carlos, who had always been her rock in times of turmoil.

Carlos entered the room, sensing the tension in the air. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he sat down beside her.

She handed him her phone, unable to speak the words herself. Carlos read through the article, his expression growing darker with every word. He clenched his jaw, his protective instincts kicking in. "This is complete nonsense," he muttered angrily.

Carlos's anger simmered as he continued to read the invasive article. His protective instincts flared, and he couldn't fathom how anyone could twist their love into something so far from the truth.

"They have no idea what they're talking about," Carlos said, his voice low but filled with determination. "This is just trash journalism trying to stir up controversy."

Y/N looked up at Carlos, her eyes filled with gratitude. She'd always admired his strength and resilience. "I know, Carlos, but it still stings. I hate how they're trying to make our love seem fake."

Carlos's expression softened as he turned to her. "Mi sol," he whispered, using the affectionate term he had for her. "Our love is as real as the sun streaming through those windows. Don't ever doubt that."

Y/N managed a faint smile, her heart aching a little less with his reassuring words. "I just wish we could shut them up, Carlos."

A mischievous glint flickered in Carlos's eyes as he looked at her. "Well, maybe we can," he said cryptically.

Before Y/N could ask what he meant, Carlos swept her into his arms and stood up. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Carlos, what are you doing?" she asked, her laughter mixing with curiosity.

He grinned down at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "I'm taking my sunshine to our room," he said, "away from all this nonsense."

Y/N couldn't help but giggle as Carlos carried her bridal style down the hallway to their bedroom. His laughter joined hers, and it echoed through their home, drowning out the noise of the world outside.

In that moment, as Carlos playfully carried her, Y/N realized that their love was a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of fame and gossip. It didn't matter what others said or wrote about them. What they had was real, unbreakable, and filled with a kind of love that could weather any storm.

As they reached their bedroom, Carlos gently set Y/N down, and they both burst into laughter. He pulled her into a tender kiss, sealing their promise to protect their love from the prying eyes of the world.

As Carlos set Y/N down in their bedroom, their laughter filled the air like a sweet melody, banishing the remnants of unease brought on by the intrusive article. With a loving smile, Carlos cupped her face in his hands, his gaze locked onto hers.

"You know," he whispered, his voice laced with desire, "there's one thing those journalists will never understand."

Y/N's breath hitched as she met his intense gaze. "What's that?" she asked, her voice barely more than a soft murmur.

Carlos leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing, tantalizing kiss. "That our love," he murmured, his voice husky, "is the real deal."

Their kisses deepened, their passion igniting like a flame. Carlos's hands slid from her face down to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, and she moaned softly against his lips.

Their love was a fire burning brightly, an unbreakable bond that no amount of gossip or scrutiny could diminish. As their clothes fell to the floor, they reveled in the intimacy that was entirely their own, a celebration of their genuine love.

In the quiet of their bedroom, away from the prying eyes of the world, Carlos and Y/N proved that their love wasn't just a masterpiece of public relations. It was a passionate, fiery, and deeply genuine connection that left no room for doubt.

As their bodies entwined and their moans of pleasure filled the room, they knew that their love was their most cherished secret, a sanctuary where they could be their true selves, far away from the judgmental eyes of the world.

liked by charlesleclerc , taylorswift , and 13.657.473 others

carlossainz55 just had the best night of my life! thanks, gossipmongers, for the motivation.

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bratzforchris · 19 days

Text

Model Baby, M. Sturniolo

Summary: In which a modeling campaign Matt's in turns into something far more

Pairing: Model!Matt x feminine photographer!reader

Warnings: Smut, sub!Matt, softdom!reader, non established relationship, p in v, cowgirl, sextape, grinding, making out, hand job, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), slight degradation/teasing, Matt lowkey has a praise kink (i think that's all but lmk if i missed anything!)

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I think I speak for all of us when I say Matt's Prada photoshoot fucked with our heads!! Anyway, enjoy some sub!Matt 😋

You sighed as you stepped off the elevator, lugging your bags of camera equipment behind you. Despite having the machine at your convenience, you really hated how the shoot was assigned to take place in the penthouse suite of this Hawaiian resort in the middle of July. Gorgeous? Yes. Good for not sweating? No. You pulled your bags along to the door, quickly swiping the key the resort had given you and entering the room. It was still beyond crazy to you that you were getting to shoot a Calvin Klein ad for such a famed model, and your heart raced with anticipation at the thought of how big of an opportunity this was.

Inside the enormous suite, lighting and set employees bustled around, angling everything just so around the set. The enormous, California king sized bed that was backed up to a window that looked out into the deep blue of the Pacific ocean would serve as the main backdrop for the shoot, but that wasn’t even the most gorgeous part of the room, at least in your opinion. Your model for today sat in a folding chair in the corner of the room, sipping on a hot coffee while he got his makeup done.

“Hi! Are you Matt?” You asked him, setting your camera bags down next to his chair.

The boy looked up at you as an artist waved a brush of powder across his nose. His blue eyes were wide as he smiled up at you, a soft blush dotting his cheeks. “That’s me.”

“I’m gonna be your photographer today.” You introduced yourself by name, sticking out your hand with a warm smile.

Matt stared at you with wide eyes as you shook hands, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes traveled from his veiny hand up towards his sleeve of tattoos. The silver rings that decorated his knuckles were cold against your warm skin, making you tell yourself that the blush you felt creeping through your body was due to the tropical heat. You went on to thoroughly explain what all today’s shoot would entail, noticing the way Matt kept his eyes trained on you the entire time, looking at you in some way that could only be described as awe.

As you finished your spiel, Matt stood up and stretched, chucking his empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can. The brunette’s hoodie rode up with his movement, the tanned skin of his soft tummy and V-line catching your eye. You shook your head reminding yourself that this shoot was for work and not for you to thirst over the model. You could do that once the ad campaign came out.

“I’m gonna get changed,” Matt said, nodding towards the bathroom. “Thanks for your time. I really appreciate it.”

Once again, you noticed the pink hue that had made its home on Matt’s cheeks as he scurried off to the bathroom. Maybe you were misreading the situation, but part of you wondered if he felt the same way about you. He was different from most of the clients you had been assigned in the past; where they saw you as “just a worker”, Matt had talked to you like he genuinely wanted to get to know you and collaborate on the project. You swiftly set up all of your camera equipment, drumming your fingers on the plastic as you waited for your model.

The bathroom door swung open, and you whipped your head around to see Matt being shuffled out by his assistant. The woman appeared rather frazzled, rattling notes about poses and such to the soft boy, who listened intently, paying close attention to how she was speaking to him, just the way he had with you. That wasn’t what caught your eye, though. Your eyes trailed downward from Matt’s face to the tight, gray, Calvin Klein boxers that hugged his hips. It was going to be a simple shoot, Matt’s body, the boxers, and the silver horse necklace he wore speaking for themselves, but you felt your lower stomach clench at the thought of that beautiful boy looking up at you with those blue doe eyes.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” Matt smiled, arm brushing yours as he climbed onto the bed.

If anyone else in the room noticed the energy between you two, they didn’t mention it. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself so that you could focus on getting the perfect shots and not on the way Matt’s feathery, brown curls fanned around his face.

“Okay, if you could just turn a little to the left…right there..perfect! Great job!” As you fell into the usual groove of your work, everything else melted away, allowing you to focus on your camera and the boy in front of you.

Matt was the best subject you could have ever asked for, easily following your directions with an eagerness about him. “Like this?” he joked cutely, jutting out his bottom lip and placing his chin in his hands as he propped himself up on the bed. “It’s what you asked me to do.” he smiled, staring up at your camera.

“Just like that,” You joked, taking on a playful air. “Good boy.” You laughed.

Matt’s cheeks heated up to a color that was beyond red, making him awkwardly shift and shuffle the sheets on the bed. You continued to snap photos, thinking the flustered look that had occupied his face was a welcome change to the ‘tough guy’ theme for the shoot.

“You are doing so well. Beautiful!” You praised as you took an especially gorgeous photo of him on his knees, arms crossed over his chest.

The shoot continued like this for some time, with you flirtatiously throwing little praises and phrases of affection Matt’s way and him blushing and offering soft smiles until the director of the shoot finally stood up, quickly stating that everything had been fulfilled. Everyone packed up and hurried out of the suite just as quickly as they had entered. You had barely packed up your ring light before realizing that everyone else had vacated the room, leaving just you and Matt, who was still in the gray boxers, scrolling through his phone.

“So...have you been modeling for a long time?” You asked the brunette, eager to make conversation that would distract you from his body and how it made the heat pool between your thighs.

“Um, not really,” Matt blushed and set aside his device, ears going red as he spoke. “About a year, maybe? I’m more into YouTube.”

“I remember reading about that when I got this job. So, I take it you like cameras, Matt?” You asked flirtatiously, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Oh, um,” the brunette looked up at you from his position on the bed, dark lashes sweeping across his face. “For the right people, yeah.”

“I noticed you like being called a good boy, too.” You teased gently, your nipples beginning to harden as you watched Matt grow red with your realization, awkwardly shifting as a gentle moan escaped his plump, heart-shaped lips.

“Y-yeah…” he whispered, beginning to smile himself. “I do. How did you know?”

“Oh Matt,” You cooed, pressing record on your camera and then making your way around the bed, sitting next to him and caressing his stubble-covered cheek. “You models are all the same. Just wanna be told how pretty you look following directions.”

The boy let out another moan, this one louder than before, pressing his cheek into your hand as he began to grind against the sheets softly, trying to conceal his growing erection. Your words were getting to him faster than he cared to admit, making him want to do whatever it would take for you to continue praising him and speaking to him in that teasing, yet loving voice. “Mhm…” he whined softly.

“What if I told you that camera was recording right now?” You asked him, kissing his soft lips. “Would you still let me call you a pretty boy?”

Matt whimpered, grinding his Calvin Klein covered dick faster against the bed. “Please. Do that again. I…” he panted into the kiss, his hormones already taking over.

You used his moan for leverage, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Matt tasted like coffee and a hint of cinnamon and vanilla, yet you couldn’t get enough. You began to get sloppy, your tongue fighting his for dominance as you made out, tangling your fingers into the soft, feathery curls at the nape of his neck. You wanted to steal every last bit of that ‘tough guy’ façade and watch it crumble beneath your touch as you praised him.

“You gonna be a good boy and use your mouth for what it's made for?” You asked him, pulling apart from the kiss, leaving a trail of salvia between you two as you wiped his bottom lip with your thumb.

Matt nodded eagerly, already kneeling like this had been your routine for years now, despite only knowing each other for two hours. “Let me make you feel good.” he pouted, tugging at the waistband of your leggings.

You gently pushed his hand away, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Knees.”

Matt did as told, propping himself on his knees, chin in his hands, as he watched you slide your leggings, shirt and bra, and thong off. Your thighs were already slick with your juices, your lower stomach tightening with arousal as you watched Matt giggle cutely, his big, blue eyes going wide at the sight of you already dripping. You ran your hand through his silky hair, enjoying the way he was practically feigning for your touch.

The immense amount of pillows on the bed served you well, allowing you to prop yourself up so that you were the perfect height for Matt to eat you out on his knees. “Go on,” You told the boy, kissing his forehead softly. “Show the camera how good you eat pussy, baby.”

Matt didn’t need to be told twice. Still on his knees, the brunette lowered his head, licking the soft, plush skin of your thighs before moving to your folds. As you craned your neck, the sight of his gentle tongue lapping up your arousal made you want to praise him, promising him he was doing an excellent job. As he ran his tongue from your dripping hole up to your clit, flicking the sensitive little bud, you hissed, feeling the need to climax begin to build in your body.

“Feels so good, Matt,” You panted, rutting your hips forward to meet his mouth as the brunette pushed your thighs closer towards his head. “You’re doing so well.”

Spurred on by the praise, Matt began flick your clit in dizzying circles with his tongue as you whimpered and whined, back arching off the sheets. It was obscene; the sight of him on his knees, lapping you up like you were the last meal on earth, while you moaned and writhed, neither of you caring that a camera was actively filming all of this. Broken praises fell from your lips as Matt moaned into your pussy, mumbling things about how good you tasted while his freckled nose applied pressure to your clit.

“Doing so well, baby,” You cried, gripping the sheets as your climax began to overtake you. “‘M gonna cum.”

Without another word, you let go, your orgasm leaving you shaking as you came on Matt’s face. Once you had come down from the high, you looked to see your boy lift his head, still on his knees. Your arousal dripped from his mouth and chin, and even his eyelashes, which only complimented his angelic blue eyes, messy hair, and the slight blush that had overtaken him as he looked at you shyly.

“I hope that was okay…” Matt whispered, burning red.

You lifted his chin in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “That was better than okay, Matt. That was perfect,” Matt smiled softly, cuddling into your touch as you instructed him to lay down on his back, pressing soft kisses to his face, neck, and chest as he did so. You had known since the moment you had seen the boy in real life that you wanted to ride him. “May I?” You asked, hooking your thumb into the elastic waistband of his gray underwear.

He nodded eagerly, feathery, brown curls fanning out across the pillow with the motion. You slid his boxers off, smiling at the way his dick was already throbbing with want for you. You began to fist him, watching his pretty face contort with pleasure as tiny little whimpers escaped his lips. Teasing Matt was half the fun, watching the way he would beg for it and turn red whenever you poked fun at him.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” You asked with a smirk when he whimpered, thrusting his cock upwards towards your hand. “Need to be used?”

Matt nodded, his pouty bottom lip jutting out as he looked up at you from the bed. “Need you.” he hissed when you hit a particularly sensitive spot.

You took that as your cue, moving your lips down his arm and kissing every tattoo that decorated his skin. Not wanting to leave him without contact for too long, you quickly bent down and grabbed your wallet from your tote bag lying beside the bed, pulling a condom out. Matt flushed again at the unmistakable sound of foil ripping, his cheeks burning and his cock throbbing as you rolled the rubber onto him.

“You gonna let me ride you, baby boy?” You asked him, gripping his chin slightly as you straddled his waist. “I think you should show the camera how much you love being used.”

“Please,” Matt was practically begging by this point, all plump lips and angel eyes as he gripped your hips firmly with his ringed hands. “Wanna be yours.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else. You quickly lined yourself up with him, gently sliding onto his hard cock. Your moans at the feeling of suddenly being so full went straight to Matt’s dick, causing him to buck his hips upward towards your own, whining at the friction.

“God, you’re so wet…” the brunette whimpered. “Did I do this?”

“You like admiring your work?” You teased, speeding up the rhythm in which you rode him.

Matt let out a moan at the combination of your praises and teasing, gripping your hips ever harder as you rode him. Pretty, girlish moans escaped his mouth as you took control from his body. All he could focus on was how good you riding him made him feel. The lack of control over his own body had him grabbing your hips in a way that would leave marks in the morning, head thrown back against the pillows as he whined and whimpered.

“I…I need to…” Matt gasped, tears starting to roll down his cheeks at all the pleasurable sensations. “I need to–” he wailed, not caring how loud he was being at this point.

“You need to do what?” You asked, staring down at him as you purposely rode the boy harder. “Use your words, Matty.” You teased.

“Need to cum.” he sobbed, overstimulation building as his stomach ached with the need to cum.

“God, you’re so hot when you’re like this,” You bent down and pressed a heated kiss to Matt’s lips. “All spread out for me, unable to control yourself, and whining and crying like a slut. Go ahead, baby. Cum like the little boy whore you are.”

Matt didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately let himself go, cum filling the condom as he cried out. “Feels so good.” he panted as he came down from the climax, eyes wide and glazed over.

The boy fell back against the pillows as you slid off of him, tying up the condom and throwing it away. He looked beyond fucked out, but it was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. You quickly got up and turned the camera off, before retrieving a warm, wet washcloth from the bathroom and using it to wipe Matt off while showering him with both praise and kisses across his tummy and chest.

“You are so perfect.” You told him, once you had been rid of the cloth and climbed into bed beside him, pulling the covers of your naked bodies.

“I am?” Matt asked meekly, avoiding contact as he blushed, a smile growing across his face.

“The best.” You assured him, enjoying the tulip pink color that painted his skin once again.

“I probably shouldn’t ask you this…” Matt paused to collect himself for a moment, before rolling over and facing you. “Would you um, wanna go out with me sometime?”

You couldn’t help the loud giggle that escaped your mouth as you leaned across the bed and kissed his cheek. “I just came all over your face and you’re embarrassed to ask me out?”

Matt nodded shyly, but giggled himself, snaking his hand across the sheets to hold your own. “I didn’t know if you just wanted a hookup or something.”

“You really think I’m really gonna let a pretty boy like you pass me by?” You raised a brow, planting a firm kiss on his pink lips.

Laid here in this gorgeous bed, naked and only covered by sheets as he blushed, you realized that you truly had made the right decision to pursue this model baby.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @aaronshotchgirl @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @hiimoliviaimnewhere @loisnotacupcake-blog @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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tenseoyong · 2 years

Text

Give It A Try | e. m

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

virgin!reader, sex toys + lube, implied previous drug use, praise, very little verbal dominance, probably over use of “princess”, squirting, some hair pulling

requests are open

“What is it?” You eyed the box nervously.

“Open it, then you’ll know.” Eddie shrugged, sat beside the suspicious package on his bed,relaxed against the mattress while you hovered in the middle of his room. “C’mon, it’s not that bad, princess, I promise.”

It wasn’t exactly uncommon for Eddie to bestow you a gift or two. Though, usually, you could see what was coming your way immediately, it was hardly ever hidden. Like Eddie appearing with an already rolled joint to share “free of charge, for my girl”. Or a set of dice he’d managed to find at the bottom of his drawers to include you in one of his DnD campaigns. Or even showing up with a fist full of flowers he’d obviously ripped from some upper class person’s lawn.

But, the semi-neatly wrapped box was a strange sight. Especially, the pink colored paper and matching bow, that looked so out of place in Eddie’s messy, darker room.

Plus, the mischievous glint in Eddie’s warm eyes made you all the more suspicious.

“C’mere, baby, s’not scary, I swear.” Sensing you weren’t too convinced yet, Eddie threw his ring-clad hand out towards you, for you to take. “We’ll open it together, then, yeah? Don’t you trust me?”

Even though he used a mocking tone, and you knew he wasn’t serious, Eddie questioning your trust in him made your lip quiver ever so slightly; and you placed your hand in his larger, warmer one and allowed him to pull you towards him until you were situated on his lap, sat sideways and faced with the box again.

Of course, you trusted Eddie. With your whole heart, actually. He’d never done a single thing to make your safety with him in the year or so you’d known him, or the barely two months you’d been officially-unofficially seeing each other. He wasn’t at all the scary and intimidating man your peers, friends, and even parents thought Eddie to be. He’d never made fun of you, or teased you anything beyond a light hearted joke between the two of you—he hadn’t even looked down on you or laughed when you shyly admitted to being not only a virgin, but embarrassingly inexperienced—haven’t even had your first kiss prior to Eddie.

How could you not place your trust in him?

In truth, that embarrassing admission had Eddie rather excited. The idea of being your first everything—from kissing, to dates, to anything and everything sexual—had the most degenerate parts of his brain racing. Since then, Eddie has taken great care to be slow in his advances, carefully exposing you to new and intriguing forms of romance all while soaking up every sweet, innocent, virginal reaction you’d given him.

And, he was more than excited to join you on another new experience.

Still hesitant, you eyed Eddie’s failed attempt at hiding his glee and grasped the box, bring it towards you. Curiously, you shook it, hearing its context shuffle around a bit. The sound alone wasn’t enough to make a good guess, but it did have a decent bit of weight, not that that fact helped you either.

“Well, if it had been alive, it’s not now.” Eddie snorted, one hand smoothing over your back patiently, trying to relax you a bit. “Go on, open it.”

The casual change of tone sent a small shiver down your back, no doubt felt by Eddie as his grin grew just a bit—that subtle shift of dominance always rocked you to your core, and now was no different. You bit your lip and shuffled in Eddie’s lap, pinching the soft ribbon between your thumb and pointer finger—and pulled.

The ribbon fell away easily, floating to rest on your lap as you focused on the wrapping paper next. Taking care to not just rip it apart and make a mess, you peeled the tape holding the edges together, fidgeting under Eddie’s intense gaze. Fold by fold, the paper too, fell away, pushed off the side of the bed and forgotten by Eddie while you held the now bare box. Only a cardboard lid separating you, from his present.

You held your breath, and inched the lid off the box, blinking longer than necessary to avoid looking inside.

Eddie pinched your side.

You jolted against him.

Eyes popping open and finally seeing.

Oh.

“What’dya think, princess?” Eddie’s whisper is hot against your ear. Your throat dry, feeling like sand paper as you swallow back a surprised noise. “D’you like it?”

It wasn’t what you expected. Though, how could you have begun to suspect it?

A relatively small, flesh colored dildo sat in the box you clutched like it was your lifeline.

Oh.

“I don't—well, I think—um—it’s, uh, nice?” You stumbled, all while Eddie’s amusement was obvious. Your flushed face, and sudden stutter, unsure how to respond to such a gift, was the highlight of Eddie’s day, let alone week. “Th-thank you, Eddie?”

“You’re welcome, princess.” Eddie hummed against your hair. “Why don’t you take a closer look? Pick it up.”

Fumbling over the command, your shaky hand curled around the cool silicone, dropping the box it once laid in over the side of the bed so it too could join the rest of the chaos of Eddie’s bedroom floor. The toy felt odd, and foreign as you turned it over in your hands, quietly inspecting it—somehow firm and soft at the same time—the rubber only having enough give to squish in a small bit before the firm middle held firm. Mock balls at the base, along with a suction cup bottom. And a bright, nearly cherry red, mushroom tip.

While your focus was on your new and intriguing toy, Eddie supposed this wasn’t far off from torture—watching you experimentally squeezing and caressing the fake cock, all while his own was beginning to stir in his pants. Your weight on his lap didn’t help any, either.

“I want you to do somethin’ for me,” Eddie swallowed, unable to tear his eyes from your hands wrapped around the toy. “D’you think you can do it for me, princess?” “What is it?” You asked, barely above a whisper. Twisting in his lap, you didn’t miss the low hiss Eddie let out when you wiggled around on his crotch. Feeling the growing bulge beneath you had your body warming from head to toe.

“I need you—t’fuck yourself with your new toy.”

Shoving his hands beneath your thighs, Eddie all but folded your knees into your chest as he held you until he could scoot back on his mattress until his back hit the wall, manhandling you until you laid against his chest, legs thrown over either side of Eddie’s lap; your legs spread, skirt doing a terrible job at keeping your decency covered.

Even in the privacy of Eddie’s room, you couldn’t fight the flush in your cheeks and you instinctively went to knock your knees together, pulling at your skirt hem before Eddie gripped your wrist, “Don’t cover yourself, s’ok, baby. Lemme, just, play with you a bit, ok?”

This wasn’t entirely uncharted territory, not anymore.

Eddie was taking his time with you, pacing himself before doing a little more, going a little further each time. Trying to ease his sweet, innocent, virgin princess into his world without scaring or hurting you. It was only a couple weeks ago that he’d decided you were ready for a little over-the-panty touches, guiding you to grind into his denim-covered thigh in the back of his van, and finishing with experimentally sinking two fingers into your warm heat. You’d been startled—and impossible tight—and Eddie took note of the surprised and not at all pleased sound you’d made that day and knew it was going to take a lot of work to get you ready to actually take his cock one day.

So, he’d start again, exactly where he’d left off those weeks ago.

Eddie’s hand dipped below your skirt, hidden from either of yours’ view and seemed to just ghost over your pussy. Tickling you, more than touching, yet you reacted all the same. The soft sign, a small buck of your hips before you settled again. The second stroke, Eddie laid on a more firm touch—the soft fabric of your panties being the only barrier keeping two of Eddie’s fingers from actually plunging into your core—instead making him brush his fingers past your already leaking hole, feeling your plush lips before pressing harshly against your clit.

You jumped, nearly knocking the back of your head into Eddie’s jaw, all while he laughed. “Still so sensitive, aren’t’ya?”

Digging your nails into the rubber still clutched in your hand, you teethed your bottom lip and nodded, “Feels good, Eds...”

“Good, that’s good,” Eddie whispered, voice so much lower and gravely, heavy with lust. He continued stroking your cunt through your panties, savoring every whimper and offering his own quiet groans with each shift of your ass against his cock. “S’good, my good girl, now, I’m gonna take your panties off, ok?”

“Okay, Eds...”

His hands curled around your thighs again, encouraging you to put your feet on his thighs to lift yourself, giving Eddie room to yank your panties down to your knees. You turned to bury your face against Eddie’s warm neck, and gave an embarrassed whimper at how the cotton clung to your wet cunt, having to literally be peeled away.

“Now that’s a sight,” Eddie whistled, “Barely even touched you, an’ you’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“Eddie, don't be mean.”

“Not bein’ mean, princess,” Eddie promised. “It’s a good thing. Gonna make the next step easier.”

You’d need it, anyways, with what Eddie had planned. Although, he did plan for the event you wouldn’t be wet enough, and with one hand he blindly reached for the half used bottle of lube he kept wedged between his mattress and the box spring. With his experience hands, Eddie managed to pop the lid with one hand, while grabbing your wrist, pulling your hand—and the toy—to the side, and more in his view so he could drizzle a generous amount of lube onto the silicon.

“Now, rub it in.” Eddie demanded, releasing your wrist and collecting another glob of lube onto two fingers, that quickly disappeared between your legs again and painting the slippery liquid across your cunt, mixing it with your own arousal. “Get it nice’n’wet for me, princess.”

You obeyed, smoothing your palm from the base to tip of the dildo, slicking up its length.

Eddie thought the way your nose scrunched, displeased with the sticky liquid, was adorable. But you listened to him, regardless. And that, deserved a reward.

With the aid of your arousal and lube mixture, it couldn’t have been easier to slip two fingers into your throbbing core; Eddie waited, not moving an inch when he felt you tense—probably remembering the last time he’d tried fingering you—but with the lube, the slight stretch was barely noticed. With your pleased whimper sounding as loud as his amps as you moaned against his ear, Eddie was more than happy to take that as a sign.

Eddie immediately began curling his fingers, stroking your inner walls while searching for that magic button within you. Enjoying every shriek of pleasure you gave, Eddie huffed a small laugh. thumbing at your clit.

“D-don’t laugh at me...” You whined, teething at the skin of his throat.

“’m not laughing at you, princess, I’m happy,” Eddie swore, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers at your favorite pet name. “Fuck—just happy, you’re doing so well for me—taking my fingers so well. Gonna make you cum, then you’re gonna take that toy just as good as you’re taking me, right, baby?”

Eddie’s voice, rumbling deep in his chest and vibrating against your back. His fingers buried in your cunt, he was ridiculously quick to abuse your g-spot the second he felt the tip of his fingers brushing the soft nerves inside you.

It was all too much, way too fast.

“Oh god—” You breathed out, sloppily trying to thrust your hips in time with his fingers.

Eddie’s lips pressed against your temple, “Feel good, princess? You like my fingers? Hm? Feel me, deep in your sweet, little pussy?”

A strangled moan, and your ass grinding back against his bulge was the only reply you could manage.

“If you like this,” Eddie mused, “Just wait until I’m actually fucking you—I think you’d be dick drunk so quickly—you won’t know what to do when you’re not under me, being stretched open, fucked out...”

It was almost amusing, watching you cum. He’d always figured you’d be a loud, sputtering mess. Eddie was surprised, how quiet it actually was. The only real sign, the way your pussy suddenly tightened, spasming around his fingers while you tossed your head back against his shoulder—a final gasp before your mouth fell open in a silent cry, legs twitching as a fresh gush of liquid met Eddie’s fingers.

Eddie continued to gently finger you through your high. Slowing his pace until you fully relaxed against him; withdrawing his fingers with an audible squelch.

You wrinkled your nose against when Eddie used the same hand covered in lube and your cum to slick your hair back from your sweaty forehead before curling it around your jaw, tilting your face so he could claim your lips. Smothering you in a sloppy, heat filled kiss.

“How d’you feel, princess? Feel as good as you looked?” Eddie panted against your lips, giving your bottom lip a teasing nip. “Looked like somethin’ out a damned porno, pretty little thing...”

“Feels amazing,” Your throat was dry as a desert, all your open mouthed panting didn’t help you any. Regardless, the smile you gave Eddie, could have lit up the night sky as far as he was concerned. “C-can we do it again?”

Eddie snorted.

“Again? Already? I can tell you’re going to be insatiable, but—” Eddie smirked, and smoothed his right hand down your arm until his palm enveloped your hand, that still clutched your new toy so hard your knuckles were turning white. “I think it’s time for this.”

Eddie led both your hands back to your core, and guided you to rub the tip of the dildo against your opening.

You jumped, still so sensitive from recently cuming. Eddie’s left hand curled around your hip, fingers digging into the soft skin.

“Just breathe, princess.” Eddie told you, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hip as he encouraged you to put a small amount of pressure at the end of the dildo. The mushroom head disappearing between your puffy lips. He wanted for you to suck in a chest full of air, before pressing on.

With some effort, Eddie could quite literally feel the pop! of the head slipping through your tight opening for the first time. Coupled with the sharp cry you gave, your free hand clutching at his arm, Eddie was sure he was close to just busting in his pants.

But tonight wasn’t about him, Eddie had to take care of you first.

“Good girl,” He cooed, “How’s that feel?” “Tight.” You whined, fighting to wiggle against the odd feeling. “I don-I don't know how to say it, just feels...tight.”

“Tight is okay,” Eddie nodded, feeling the shake in your hand and made sure to keep your hold steady, as to not move the toy again before you were ready. “But it doesn't hurt, right?”

You shook your head.

“Good, good, that's what I need’a hear.” Eddie smiled. “D’you think you can take some more for me?”

With another lung full of air, you nodded, “Yeah, I can do it, Eds.”

Eddie continued to guide your hand, feeling your fingers clenching the silicon, digging your nails into it as he eased more of the dildo inside you. Every inch that disappeared inside, Eddie pulled it back out slightly, reciting the rubber in your fluids before easing it further.

Your moans, strained and breathy, filled the air again. Eddie continued to whisper small praises and encouragements in your ear.

Finally, Eddie had the base, and your joined hands, pressed against your core; every inch of the silicon now hidden within you. He let you get used to the feeling, getting accustom to the length splitting you open that, hopefully, would soon be replaced with Eddie’s actual cock.

All of a sudden, Eddie knocked your hand off the dildo and took complete control. No longer trapped, you let yourself reach back, loosely twisting your fingers in Eddie’s wild hair.

Now, Eddie began the real fun. Fully withdrawing the dildo until only the tip was resting inside you, he still so carefully thrusted it back in.

You moaned together—you, at the dildo bottoming out once again, and Eddie, from your fingers twisting in his hair yanking at the pressure in your core.

Your hips rolled experimentally, moving in time with Eddie’s thrusts.

“Just imagine,” Eddie said, “How good it’s going to feel when I’m the one filling this pretty pussy. Warm, soft—not like this cold, hard, rubber—I’ll be the real deal.”

Another yank on his hair had Eddie hissing, softly grinding into your ass as best as he could from his position underneath you. “You like that, right? Want it to be me inside you right now, don’t you? I don’t think you’ll ever use this thing again after me.”

“Please,” You begged, choking on your moan when Eddie started setting a new pace, quickly pulling the dildo from your body only to force it back inside you. You could feel and hear the slap the fake balls made against your weeping core.

“What, princess? Are you close, already?”

“It just—I—it feels s’good—I feel weir—dont stop!”

“I’m not stopping, angel, don’t worry.” Eddie’s grip on your hip tightened, attempting to push and pull your body—desperate for some form of release—he half-rocked you against his bulge while half-pushing your body in time with the dildo pushing back into your aching cunt.

The small amount of pleasure on his hand almost had him rolling his eyes back into his head, but Eddie would rather die than miss any second of this—of you—the way your stomach clenched, Eddie was certain your pussy was doing the same and he yearned to be inside you to feel it instead of this toy.

Eddie wrapped one arm around your waist, trying to stabilize you as your back arched against him. Your hips bucking wildly as a new, blinding heat spread through you as a cord you’d never felt before curled around itself before suddenly snapping—a quite literal flood gate bursting in you.

Collapsing back against Eddie’s chest, your heavy breathing the only thing you could hear over the ringing in your ears as Eddie slowly pulled the soaked toy from your used core, dropping it against his mattress. He instantly missed your quiet whimpers and breathless moans but that was immediately overshadowed, absolute awe painting across his face, “Holy fuck.”

Blinking through the aftershock, you became aware of the mass amount of wetness beneath you.

Your panties, pushed down to your knees, see-through.

Thighs so wet, you looked as if you’d just come from a shower. Eddie’s black pants somehow a shade darker, completely wet from the waist to his knees.

Eddie’s hand literally dripping with your release.

"Jesus, fuck—” Eddie swore. His eyes darted all over—from his fingers, to your fucked out pussy, to you—who had pulled the neckline of your shirt over your chin in an attempt to hide from his eyes. “That was—princess, you just squirted--that-that was so fucking hot.”

“H-hot?” You gasped, looking from your mess to Eddie’s glazed over eyes. “That was hot?”

“Princess, you can’t imagine how hard I am right now.” Eddie sucked in a shaky breath through clenched teeth. “Can’t wait for next time, I’m gonna make you squirt just like that—but on my cock, instead.”

aka how those stains got on his bed

#stranger things #Eddie Munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things scenario #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson scenario #x reader

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louloulemons-posts · 10 months

Text

All That Matters Is Us

Eddie Munson X Cheerleader!Reader

Summary : You’re in a secret relationship with Eddie Munson, what happens when someone finds out?

Word Count : 1.9k

Warnings : Fluffy, minuscule angst, Jason carver, self deprecating Eddie, not proof read, swears, use of Y/N and Y/L/N, kisses.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“You’re sure you don’t want to come?” Chrissy asked as the pair of you walked out of the locker room. You’d changed out of your cheer uniform into some light acid washed jeans, a purple and blue jumper and some old chuck taylors.

“Sorry Chris, I already have plans,” you explained to your best friend. She hummed, “Ah yes, with your mystery man.” Wiggling her eyebrows at you, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “When are you going to introduce me, or even tell me who it is?” she asked.

“When we’re both ready. It’s only been a couple months.”

“Exactly! A couple of months of my best friend seeing a guy I have no information about. I’m guessing he’s a douche or a nerd.”

“He’s neither. He’s kind and thoughtful and sweet to me. I really like him Chris.”

She awed at you, which made you roll your eyes. “Who are we talking about?” Jason. He appeared out of nowhere with a couple of his friends. Throwing his arm over Chrissy shoulder, he kissed her head. “Nobody,” you shrugged.

Walking down the halls you were ready to leave them. “Have fun at the party,” you said to the blonde girl. She pulled out of Jason’s hold and hugged you, whispering in your ear, “Call me tomorrow. Update.”

“You’re not coming to the party?” Jason questioned.

“Not this time. I’ll see you guys later,” you waved at them and wandered away.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You made your way to the drama room, knocking on the door lightly. “Come in,” a familiar voice said. Entering, you panicked slightly, you’d assume Hellfire was over, you were wrong. The group of boys gave you strange looks, minus the chocolate eyed metal head, sat in his throne.

“Y/L/N,” he began, “We’re almost finished. If you don’t mind sitting and waiting, I’ll get you your stuff.” You nodded, sitting down on a chair in the corner, plopping your bag by your feet.

The campaign didn’t last much longer, Eddie bringing it to an end with a cliffhanger. “Stop your whining,” he said to the younger boys, ushering them out of the room. “It gives you time to prepare, so I don’t get why you’re all moody.”

Shutting the door to them, he turned on his heel, instantly grinning at you. You matched it, chuckling slightly. “It’s a good thing I can come up with stories quickly, you almost gave us away Sweetheart,” Eddie spoke.

“I didn’t think they’d still be here Eds.” Standing, you walked over to him. He leaned back on the table slightly, allowing you to stand between his legs. “Look pretty, I like this” he smiled, tugging the hem of your jumper.

“Missed you today,” you said, brushing some stray curls out of his face. “Missed you too baby. Never leave me for a full day again,” he groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder. “I had practice Eds, big competition coming up.”

“I know, I know. How did it go?” he asked, kissing your neck lightly, before he lifted his head again. “It was good, I didn’t get dropped so, that’s always a bonus.”

“I know. Or you’d have Dr Munson waiting on you, hand and foot. Nobody wants that.”

“I could think of worse things than you doting on me,” you laughed.

“Oh yeah?” he said, leaning down so his lips ghosted yours. “Yeah.” Your lips were about to touch when the door burst open.

You didn’t have time to fully move away from one another, looking at the door you saw one of the Hellfire boys. Dustin. “Oh. I … umm … sorry, I uh left my notes,” he said, awkwardly grabbing his book from the table. “Sorry um, I’ll leave you to it. See you Monday Eddie.”

Before he could leave the room, Eddie called out, “Henderson.” The boy faced him, looking slightly panicked. “Yeah?”

“Not one word.” The younger boy gulped, nodding, “You got it. Didn’t see a thing.” The door clicked closed.

“We’re screwed,” Eddie said, rubbing his face.

“He’s going to tell his friends?” you asked, to which Eddie nodded. “Yeah and Lucas has been taken over by the dark side.”

You pinched his side, knowing what he meant. “Oh and am I on the dark side?” you asked, pinching him again. “No! You’re different, you’re sweet and kind.”

“Hmm okay, okay I get it,” you smiled slightly, showing him you weren’t mad.

“Seriously though, if Lucas knows, Carver will too. You sure you want people to know about you and the Freak?” he asked, seeming to close in on himself.

“Eddie,” you said softly, gently placing one of your hands on his cheek. He couldn’t meet your eyes, insecurities taking over. “Hey, come on baby, look at me.” He didn’t. “Please, wanna see those pretty eyes I love so much,” you said.

Slowly his eyes met yours, they were slightly glassy. “Let me down easy Sweetheart,” he almost whispered. “Let you down? What?” you questioned.

“I know you won’t want people to know about us, so just do it to me gently. Cause I really fucking like you.”

“Who says I don’t want them to know?” you cocked your head slightly. “Sweetheart your reputation-”

“Means nothing. I cheer because I find it fun, not for the popularity status, and honestly the only people I like in that group are Chrissy and well … Lucas,” you explained to him.

“Really?” he mumbled.

“Really Eds. I really like you, more than I’ve ever liked anyone. Never been so glad to be paired up on a project with someone,” you chuckled.

Remembering how during your 3rd study session you’d been laughing so hard and lost all focus. Ending up kissing until you couldn’t breathe anymore, chapped lips and messy hair.

“I just don’t want you to have to deal with the stuff those assholes say.”

“I don’t care what people say, or what they think. All that matters is what we say and what we think, right?”

He hummed. “Eddie, I wanna be with you. I really do, but if you’re nervous I understand, we can still take it slowly.” He frowned, and groaned slightly, “Don’t wanna have to take it slow. Wanna be able to hold your hand in the halls and kiss you.”

“Then we can do that babe,” you said, smoothing between his brows to remove his frown.

“You really want too?” he asked.

“I do. Monday, pick me up. We’ll walk in together. We can have lunch if you want, in the cafeteria or the woods if it overwhelms us. How does that sound?” you asked softly.

He nodded, pulling you closer to him and hugging you. “I really like you Y/N.”

“I really like you too Eds.” You stood on your toes slightly and pecked his lips. “We should get going, they’re gonna lock the school soon,” you mumbled against his mouth.

After one more quick kiss, he began to pack his Hellfire stuff away. As you were getting ready to walk out the door, you slid your hand into his. “I know the schools empty right now, but we can walk in the halls holding hands now, if you want?”

“Yeah. I’d really like that Sweetheart.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Morning,” you said, smiling as you climbed into Eddies van. “Morning Sweetheart,” he replied, leaning over and kissing your lips.

The drive wasn’t a particularly long one, Eddies favourite cassette was playing lowly in the background. He played with your hand as he drove, feeling his chunky rings knock against your knuckles.

You could tell he was on edge, so you squeezed his hand gently. You didn’t want to force him to talk, but you wanted him to know he could if he needed too. He gave you a small smile, looking back to the road. ‘Never wanna damage precious cargo,’ he’d say.

Pulling into the school parking lot, you could hear Eddies breath become shaky. “We don’t have to do this today,” you said softly, “Can try again another day.”

“No!” he almost shouted. “Sorry. I want to do this today, want people to know you’re my girl.”

“Oh I’m you girl?” you asked.

“W-well I umm … I was … what I mean to say is,” you laughed, cutting him off.

“Eds I’m kidding, I’m more than happy to be your girl.”

His cheeks reddened as he parked the van, giving you a shy smile. Which wasn’t a common Eddie thing. “We do this together baby,” you said to him, squeezing his hand once more. He squeezed back. “You ready Munson?” you asked.

“Ready Y/L/N.”

Kissing his lips softly, you let go of his hand and climbed out of the van. You went to put your bag on your shoulder, but Eddie took it from you, putting it on his own. Taking your hand he pulled you closer, kissing you again.

When he pulled away you couldn’t help but giggle. “You need to go to your locker or straight to class?” he asked.

“Locked, just to swap a couple books over, then we have English.”

“Great, let’s go,” he pecked your forehead and you headed towards the entrance.

You knew Eddie could feel the eyes on the pair of you, they were almost burning. Along with the whispers from nearly every person you walked past, good and bad. You squeezed Eddies hand to reassure him, which he did the same.

Pushing the door open for you both, the whispers only intensified when you walked through the semi-busy halls. You saw a couple of Eddies friends, Dustin being one, he was wearing a huge grin, throwing you a thumbs up.

Arriving at your locker, Eddie leaned beside you, holding your bag open. You heard loud and familiar chatter, walking around the corner you saw Chrissy, Jason and a few other cheerleaders and jocks.

Eddie tensed up and seemed to pull away from you. “Hey Y/N,” Chrissy said, wandering over to you, followed by the rest of the group. “Morning Chris,” you smiled. Placing more books into the bag Eddie still held, you smiled at him.

“You need something Freak?” Jason asked him, pulling a face of disgust. “Actually I-” Eddies voice didn’t seem to be working for him. “He’s waiting for me, aren’t you Eds?” you asked him, to which he nodded. You kissed him on his cheek, making him relax instantly.

“What the hell? Y/N are you sick in the head?” Jason almost yelled. You rolled your eyes turning to him, about to give him a mouthful, but your best friend beat you to it. “Jason just shut up! They’re happy! Eddies a sweet guy, leave them be, stop being such a jackass.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. Chrissy was polite and sweet 85% of the time, even you were in shock at her outburst. “That’s exactly what I was gonna say, so if you don’t mind Carver, I’ve gotta get my girl to class.” Eddie threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close.

You smiled at him and Chrissy, cheeks hurting. The blonde girl copied you, “See you later,” she mouthed, as you walked past her. “We did good babe,” Eddie said, leaning down to kiss you.

And it had remained that way, you and Eddie walking through the halls together. Sitting together at lunch, him often pulling you onto his lap. Stolen kisses when you were busy with cheer and him with hellfire. And nobody could say anything, you actually became one of the most loved couples in the whole school.

Not that you and Eddie cared, you only cared about one another. That’s all that matter. You adored one another.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things imagine #fluff #oneshot #imagine #louloulemons

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muddyorbsblr · 6 months

Text

no resistance [kinktober 2023: fingering]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: President Loki fires his assistant for booking an interview gone horribly sideways and hires you in her place.

Pairing: President Loki x Reader

Word Count: 7.4k [prepare drinkies and snacks accordingly]

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, be gone. i won't ask again); fingering; dirty talk; most likely inaccurate depictions of what a day in the White House looks like; improper use of the Oval Office desk; a handful of cuss words [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: power dynamic (she's his assistant); mentions of Natasha, Bucky, Morgan, and Steve if you squint; bit of a makeover trope towards the middle of the story; Reader is mid to late 20s

Dick-tionary (aka smut guide): smut starts at "He worked his hand back under" and ends at "When he pulled his digits"

"I uhh…I think that's all the questions I have for this interview. Thank you so much for your time, President Loki, and I wish you the best of luck with your re-election campaign."

The journalist, if she could even be called that, fidgeted the slightest in her seat, her discomfort evident from both the motion and the expression on her face. As if she knew that the god-president was now quite cross with her, and much deservedly so.

As if she knew she spoke out of turn in this interview that was so graciously granted to her.

"My security will see you off the premises. Good day, madam."

He exited the room with a slight swish of his coattails, striding down the halls with a fury now directed at his assistant rather than the would-be journalist. Once the offending individual had been located, there was a meek, fearful look on her face as well.

"Boss," her voice wavered. "Your forehead vein's making an appearance again…"

"Clear your desk. Today is your final day on my team." His voice rang out and echoed all over the floor of the campaign headquarters, most of the staff raising their heads and peering from awkward angles to have a view of the commotion.

"But Boss, you said you wanted to connect with the younger adult audience and capture their votes. Miss Lewis has an audience right smack in that demographic, her videos get millions of views, I don't understand--" She let out a frustrated huff. "An interview with her could secure you a good few million votes in your re-election. From fresh voters who've just registered and are undecided. She could bridge the gap that makes you seem so unrelatable with the digital age--"

"That woman that should never dare call herself a journalist asked me to confirm the measurements of my phallus because it appears that that is the dominating question her audience had for me," he snapped, rendering the former assistant quiet.

"I--I'm sorry, Boss. I didn't know--"

"No. No you did not. It is clear that you did not do ample research on how this Miss Lewis conducted her behavior and what type of a strategy she would likely use to bridge this so called gap of relatability. I have let a good few shortcomings of yours slide since the beginning of this campaign season in hopes that you simply needed to find your footing. But time is running short and frankly so is my patience. I no longer have leniency to spare for incompetence, especially from people that work too closely with me. Pack your belongings, I expect you out within the hour. Security will triple check for any information you may try to smuggle out of the premises, so I suggest you do not even attempt it."

She let out a sound of utter disbelief. "And how exactly do you expect to replace me on such short notice? The press will see when I'm not in your entourage at the briefing tomorrow morning."

"I assure you, it will not be such an impossible feat to replace the likes of you. Now if I were in your shoes, I'd hasten my movements. The hour will tick by before you know it."

Members of Loki's security kept a close watch on her to ensure that she only vacated her desk of her personal belongings. Checking every item she placed into her purse if there were scribbled secrets or supporters' contact information that might give the opposition some sort of an advantage over him.

Once they were positive that there was nothing she held on her person that could even remotely sabotage his re-election campaign, he had her escorted out of the building.

Now on to finding his new assistant. Preferably someone with a sensible enough head on their shoulders that they would at least do a rudimentary background check on who would be conducting the interview before writing them a gate pass and allowing them into such a private space.

Loki took a glance at the small pile of papers that his former assistant left behind. One had numerous strikethroughs and comments scratched on so harshly there were indents on the paper from whoever was wielding the bright fuchsia-inked pen.

Boring as all fuck, this isn't the aesthetic that we're going for. Try again, Y/N, the feedback read. The suggestion held the name of a creator whose content focused on documentaries centered on powerful individuals that have leveraged their platform in a negative manner. That perhaps this journalist could interview him and ask questions that touched on his past before he arrived on Earth and even some of the myths that surrounded his time on Asgard.

The president snapped his fingers at the nearest staff member, beckoning him over with an impatient flick of his fingers. "Which one of your colleagues is Y/N? Point her out to me."

The staff member raised a shaking hand, pointing in the direction of your desk. "O-Over there, Mi--Mister President, Sir," he stammered, mentioning your full name before Loki motioned for him to return to his seat. He took a good look at you, phone clipped between your ear and shoulder while you wrote something down on paper, the concentration written all over your face as you proceeded with your work.

"Yes I'll be sure to keep your contact information on file and forward your request for interview. You'll hear from us soon about schedules and logistics," you told the other person on the line with a smile stretched across your face that was so obviously strained, he could imagine your cheeks were beginning to smart from holding it.

He watched you work for a few more moments, your side of the conversation giving enough away for him to figure out you were speaking with a representative from Stark Industries. Something about a partnership to provide free sustainable energy to the impoverished communities throughout the country.

"We're very much looking forward to speaking with you in more detail about your proposals, Miss Stark. Thank you so so much for taking the time to answer my call, we'll be in touch soon." You took your little pencil and used it to twist your hair out of your face, your strained smile finally dropping. "Sorry I probably won't be able to call though because the president's PA is a complete ditz that'll reject my request because it doesn't go with the aesthetic," you grumbled, imitating his former assistant's tone toward the end and bringing an amused smile to the god's face.

"Miss Y/L/N," he called out to you, his tone uncharacteristically soft. Despite it, however, the sound of his voice still caused you to start in your seat.

Your expression morphed into a grimace, sucking in air between your teeth, looking defeated. "Good afternoon, Sir," you spoke, your words shaking with obvious fear. "You…heard me mocking your assistant, I apologize nobody was meant to hear that. I'll uhm…I'll clear my desk, it was an honor getting to work--"

"Hold on a moment there, darling, you're not in any trouble." He approached you with his hands held out and open in an attempt to tell you you had nothing to fear. "It was…quite an accurate depiction, if we're being honest. Hardly a mockery. I've erm…I've actually come here to speak with you about some of the interview requests you'd sent in prior to today."

He held up some of the scraps of paper in his hand, each of them containing your handwriting and his previous assistant's caustic feedback in the obnoxious fuchsia ink she insisted on using. "They were all rejected," you offered lamely, grimacing again as you squirmed in your seat.

"They're also quite clever. Intelligent, even." Your head snapped up at the compliment, a mixture of shock and satisfaction on your face as you looked at him. Your grimace had given way to a tiny endearing smile, a tinge of pink now in your cheeks. "Had my itinerary been comprised of these instead, today might have turned out to be more productive."

Your eyes widened to the point he worried they might pop out of your head. "The Lewis interview pushed through today?" He nodded once, a look of pity now painting your features. "I am so terribly sorry I sent over my research on her content but--"

"My former assistant likely shredded your findings," he finished, sitting slightly at the edge of your desk. "It's alright, Y/N, I don't hold you responsible for any of today's shortcomings. I see the efforts you've taken to enrich this campaign. Shamefully quite late, but I see them now. Hopefully moving forward we could work together to correct your predecessor's oversights."

"Wait, hold on…former assistant? Predecessor? Sir what--"

"I'd like to offer you a promotion of sorts. I'm in need of a new assistant, seeing as I fired the last one today for organizing an interview so brazenly invasive I might as well have taken the meeting completely nude."

"Well I'm sure Ms Lewis' audience would've loved that--" You stopped your words short, looking as if you'd bit your tongue. "Sorry I shouldn't have--"

"I'm sure they would have," he chuckled, leaning in the slightest to get a better look at you, finding himself surprisingly looking forward to what the next few days would bring, seeing your face more often as well as the potential of a better workflow considering that you seemed to be more focused on substance over appearance. "Take the rest of the day to familiarize yourself with the new workflow, as well as my itinerary. I'll defer to your judgment to rearrange or outright cancel any upcoming interviews as you see fit. I'll meet with you a half-hour before breakfast for a debrief on any changes you've decided on."

He barely gave you any time to nod your head in agreement before he reached for your hand, raising it to his lips and placing a delicate kiss on the back of your hand.

"I look forward to working with you, Y/N."

Your first few days working for President Loki had passed in a blur, working tirelessly to rearrange his schedule and maintaining a correspondence with the content creators that your predecessor had arranged interviews for. Spinning tales of how hectic the president's schedule had become on such short notice and therefore their appointments with him would have to be rescheduled at a later date.

A later date that probably would never come, considering that most if not all of the planned interviews conducted their business similarly to the one that effectively got his former assistant fired within the hour. You made a small note in your own binder that perhaps when he'd secured his re-election, they could be granted access among the crowd of reporters during larger press conferences.

"Maybe if you're among hoards of other reporters, you can keep your thirst in check and actually act like respective, decent human beings. Not asking about dick measurements like you're asking about the weather today. Thirsty idiots…" you grumbled, writing another name into the list.

"If that list gets any longer, you may need to have a rotation schedule, sweetling." You jumped at the sound of the president's voice coming from so close behind you, peering over your shoulder to find that he stood near enough that you could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. "Are these all the ones you'd rescheduled from the prior calendar?"

You mutely nodded, swallowing your nerves before speaking. "All the ones so far," you clarified, clicking away at your computer to show him the packed and borderline overbooked schedule that was formerly planned for him. "I made sure to go for the ones planned in the next few weeks first so that they at least have enough time to reallocate their time somewhat. There's about six more weeks worth to sort out."

"Excellent work," he told you, his voice even closer to your ear now that he was leaning over your shoulder to peer at the schedule on your monitor. "And what does my schedule look like for today, Y/N?"

You clicked to this week's view, taking a cursory look at the calendar. "After the press briefing, you have a lunch meeting with the Department of Defense along with one of the directors of R & B Weaponries, a Mr Barnes, to discuss about a new ammo supplier for the Navy forces and your own personal security detail."

He nodded along with your summary, the citrusy leathery scent of him wafting into your space and making you a touch dizzy from his onslaught of your senses. You just had to smell immaculate on top of looking like sex on legs, you hissed inwardly, biting down hard at the inside of your lip to keep you from saying a word aloud.

"And will you be joining me in this luncheon?"

Your eyes widened at his question. Of course you wouldn't be. The information to be divulged in such meetings should be something heard only by the president or those he deems closest to him. You were his assistant, nothing more. All you needed to know were names, dates, and overall points of discussion.

"I uhm…no. I don't--I don't believe I will be," you stammered, your breath hitching when he turned his head to look at you and suddenly you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. "Personal assistants aren't usually included in the guest list for these events," you offered in a lame attempt at explaining a question he didn't even ask.

"You are now. We'll leave at a quarter to noon." He began to walk out of the office, only halting to look at you over his shoulder when you let out a tiny squeak like you were about to protest. "Are you opposed to this new arrangement, sweet mortal?"

"Uhh--" You took a breath, composing yourself. "No, Sir. I'll call the restaurant to update the head count."

President Loki smirked at you, jerking his head toward the door. "Excellent. Now we should get going. I believe the briefing will commence in a few moments."

While you were on your way to the briefing room, you sent a haphazard text to a stylist friend, a Hail Mary to hopefully get you looking somewhat presentable.

Tasha, massive SOS. I need an outfit to not look like a total clown show next to the President for a lunch thing.

You followed a few steps behind the president, taking a quick look at your watch when you got notified of a reply from your friend, Natasha Romanoff. Is "lunch thing" your way of downplaying "date"? He finally made his move on you after making googly eyes at you all week long?

Her text had you fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you stepped into the briefing room, cameras at the ready and reporters sitting straight and alert, waiting to pounce with their questions once President Loki was situated at his podium.

The hour went on mostly without a hitch, you taking your notes on near everything he'd mentioned in response to the reporters' queries. While your boss was speaking with a few people from Press Relations, your ears perked up at some small talk between two reporters, one of them having a few biting words to say about you.

"I mean at least his last assistant had some sense of fashion. I never thought I'd miss Little Miss looks like she got hired from the red light district, but at least she didn't look like some frumpy ass college student who just rolled out of bed. Honestly she's dragging the whole look down and that's saying so much because Mr President can make anything look hot."

"Except her, apparently," the other reporter shot back in a snippy tone. "Guarantee you he just hired her so that he has less of a distraction in the workplace. She's the kind people look at and they're doing the opposite of mentally undressing her."

"Mentally putting a paper bag over her head," the first reporter capped off with a witchy cackle.

You felt your fury bubbling just under the surface, wanting nothing more than to march over there and give them a piece of your mind for being so catty at someone that they didn't even know. To drag them over their impractical shoes that made their legs wobble if they so much as tried to stand straight or their two sizes too small shirts that had buttons fighting for their life trying to keep their tits covered.

Instead of doing any of that, however, you pulled out your phone to text Tasha. Firstly, no it's not a "date", when are you gonna drop that tin foil hat of yours. And secondly, scratch what I said earlier. You've wanted to give me a makeover since college? Now's your chance, Babes. Gimme the works.

You sidled past the president and his current company, asking one of your closer acquaintances from the staff to accompany him to any impromptu meetings until the lunch meeting later and to inform your boss that you had to attend to a personal matter, but that you would be back before he left for the restaurant.

As the clock kept on ticking closer half past noon, Loki could feel himself getting antsy waiting for your return. He'd noticed how jittery you seemed when you passed him on your way out of the press briefing, and the staff member you'd sent to keep him apprised in your stead gave no satisfactory explanation on what caused you to step out so abruptly.

"Where are you, Y/N…" he grumbled into the empty office, looking on at your desk that he'd moved inside so that calling on you would require less effort. Instead of stepping outside or phoning you, he'd simply have to call your name from wherever he was and you were already there.

And if he was being completely honest with himself, he'd also done it so you would be closer to him and he would see you at all times throughout the day. He found your presence calmed him, the competence you'd more than proven to have over the last few days already easing his day to day.

Just as he was about to reach for his phone and call you to check if you were alright, he heard your voice outside his office, speaking with your reliever in a tone he likened to one that he heard back on Asgard. Whenever Frigga would correct him on any missteps he had throughout his magic lessons.

"I totally get how you can get lost finding the meeting rooms, it's a goddamn maze in here. But if you make any of them lose unnecessary time because of it, not everyone will come at you with understanding. Just make sure that it doesn't happen for next time. I'll draw you up a map for the rooms that are most frequently used. Study it, live it, breathe it. See if someone from security can accompany you while you familiarize yourself with the place, and don't stop until you can navigate the floor with your eyes closed."

"Yes, ma'am," your reliever confirmed, his tone audibly less jittery than when he was speaking with Loki. "Thank you so much, Y/N. Honestly getting you to be in charge of the rest of us might be one of the best things the President ever did. The one before you was so--"

"Harpy?" you finished with a chuckle, the lightness in your tone feeling like a soothing balm to the nerves Loki had had since he saw you exit the White House so hastily earlier this morning. "Remember when I tried to suggest that we should reach out to Greta Thunberg's team?"

He could almost hear the other man shudder from the other side of the door. "Gah, she nearly ripped your throat out that day. Something something not shippable and we need to get 'hot people'. Really lost the plot, that one. Anyways, I'll go work on memorizing that map. Thanks again, Boss."

"Yikes, don't call me that," you shot back, your voice growing closer to the door, prompting Loki to walk back to his desk before you stepped into the office. "That's just for our boss, no one else." Your footsteps sounded different; there was considerably more of a click in each step, and the slightest stumble to them as if you were re-familiarizing yourself with your own legs.

There was a bizarre feeling of the air becoming easier to breathe once he heard the door open. "There you are, darling. I hope your personal matter's been sorted out and you're ready to--" His words halted dead in their tracks once he turned around and got a good look at you, quickly surmising that the 'personal matter' was a complete overhaul of your appearance.

There was an ethereal glow to your face and your hair that had his hands twitching to reach out and touch you, and in place of the slightly oversized sweater and denim you'd worn this morning was a blazer designed to be worn as a dress, set in a shade of green that matched his waistcoat perfectly. To top it all off, the buckle that cinched at your waist as well as the heels that brought your height up by a few inches were set in a gold that matched the horned helmet atop his head.

You looked like the personification of his most far-fetched fantasies whenever he thought of what he wanted in someone that would stand by his side. A confidant. A partner. A lover, even.

Someone radiantly beautiful, brilliant, and completely unafraid to declare themself as his by adorning his colors.

"Too much?" you spoke up, jostling him out of his thoughts. "I-I mean if it is I still have a change of clothes in my bag I can--"

"No, no. It's not too much, little mortal. Not at all." Mentally he was stabbing himself for stumbling over his words so clumsily; he was normally so much more composed than this. "You look…ravishing." Your eyes lit up at his words, betraying the neutral expression you tried to maintain. "Come. We should head to the restaurant."

He offered out his hand to you, confusion plaguing him when the rhythm of his heart stumbled just as his words did once you'd placed your hand in his. He found you such an anomaly, looking at you with utmost curiosity, wondering how someone could simultaneously calm the chaos all around him and yet incite an entirely different type of chaos in his heart. Not to mention his loins.

"You know, darling, had we been in Asgard, your wearing of my colors could be interpreted as a declaration of your allegiance to me," he spoke once you were both situated in the back of the car. You nodded your head slowly, as if ruminating over what he'd just said. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"That makes sense," you answered, seeming as if you were thinking aloud. "Seeing as I am your assistant, people should see within seconds that I'm associated with you. The color thing's probably the most tasteful way of doing it rather than a t-shirt with your face printed on it…"

"May I ask you something…a touch more personal, Miss Y/L/N?"

"O-Of course," you stammered, your nodding a touch unsteady, fingers laced together tightly as if you were trying to keep your nerves at bay.

"What made you decide to work for me?"

You blinked rapidly for a moment, seeming to be genuinely taken aback by the question, before composing your answer.

"All the people who held the position before you were horrid…evil men. All they cared about was finessing a kick back. Burying their constituents in debt. You stepped into office and…I was out of debt in less than half a year. My student loans were nowhere to be found. All because you prioritized our right to have an education. Of course I was going to try working on your re-election campaign."

Hearing you talk about his predecessors, describing them the way you did as if they were so starkly different from him, somehow didn't sit right with the god. "But darling, you do know that I, too, am what others would call a…horrid, evil man?"

You shook your head stubbornly, sitting up straighter as if you were about to deliver a lecture. "No. You're not. I've seen evil men. I've worked with them, I've--" The words caught in the back of your throat, making you clear your throat before pushing on. "I've suffered at the hands of evil men."

Your eyes met his, the sincerity in them knocking the air out of his lungs. Had he been up on his feet, he was sure that your next words would have knocked him down on his ass.

"I'm not looking at an evil man."

His next query escaped from his mouth so swiftly, he couldn't have stopped the words even if he wanted to. "Y/N, what prompted all this?" He made a motion from your hair to your feet. "Why the change?" You squirmed in your seat, as if holding the answer in was making you physically uncomfortable. "It's alright, darling, you can tell me."

There was a heaviness in your tone when you answered. Like you were holding back tears from just recounting the events. "This morning…in the briefing room. There were these reporters commenting on how I looked and how it kind of…cheapened the image. Your image. Ruined the aesthetic."

"What is it with these feeble-minded mortals and their absurd fascination about aesthetics?"

"I don't know," you blurted out. "But the thing is, Sir, I don't have to know. The only thing I have to understand is that there are people, voters, who assign a high value to the aesthetic of a candidate. And it won't sit right in my conscience if I have the knowledge that my appearance can jeopardize someone's decision to vote for you, and I do nothing about it. So…I called up a friend of mine and…told her to make me a new person. A pretty one."

You were already beautiful, he thought to himself. It mattered not how you presented yourself.

Before he could suppress the urge, he was reaching over to your side of the backseat, tucking a lock of your hair that fell loose, obstructing his view of your features. "You deserve so much better than this, sweet mortal," he said softly, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers, his heart warming when he saw how you leaned into his touch. "You should be working for an honorable man. A decent man."

The next words to come out of your mouth had him just about ready to carve his heart out with his own dagger and serve it to you on a golden platter. "I am."

"Babes, noooooo," Tasha whined from her end of the video call. "Why are you putting your hair up? The whole fit goes better with your hair down."

You mumbled your answer as incoherently as you could, hoping she'd chalk it off to a bad connection as you fiddled with the half of your hair that was put up in a little gold claw clip.

"What was that, Babes? I didn't quite hear you."

Dammit. "Because he told me he likes it when my hair's not blocking my face, okay?" you answered her with an exaggerated sigh. "Now please tell me my makeup meets your standards because I really don't wanna explain that I lost motion in my right arm from blending my eyeshadow."

"Okay first, your makeup's fine. I'm so proud I'm about to quote that little red cartoon dragon. And second, I can't believe you had the audacity to tell me I had a tin foil hat on, I told you the first day you walked into that briefing room with him that that man couldn't stop himself from looking at you and looking like a heart-eyed emoji. Now you're telling me this? Babes, it's time you accept it. The President has it bad for you, and give it eight to ten months, and you're gonna become First Lady Y/N Laufeyson. In fact I'm so sure of it that 'if I'm wrong, I'll dye my hair puke green. Neon, glow in the dark, puke green."

You let out a frustrated sound that echoed throughout your apartment, stepping back from the phone and showing your friend your choice of clothing for the day, just like you had every morning for the last week. Today it was a dress with puff sleeves, a high neckline with a keyhole and ribbon bow detailing, and an a-line skirt. In President Loki's signature shade of green, of course.

"Looks great, Babes. He's gonna love it."

"Doesn't matter if he likes it, Tasha. The viewers just have to not think I'm ruining his look," you grumbled, stepping out of your phone camera's view to change into the dress.

"Mm hmm, keep telling yourself that, Y/N. Have a good day at work. Try not to ride your boss until after office hours, okay?" You waved her off, ending the call and putting your phone on Silent before you headed off to the White House.

When you got to President Loki's office, he was sat at the edge of his table, hands resting on the lux hardwood surface, and legs spread.

The posture put those unfairly sensual muscular thighs on sluttish display, made worse by the way the fabric of his at least one size too tight slacks stretched and strained over his skin. You had to look away before you dared look closer because you could've sworn you also clocked some tenting between his legs.

"Good morning, sweet little mortal," he greeted you, his voice even more gravelly than usual. Your knees nearly buckled from its effect on you, already feeling the familiar pooling between your legs.

"Good morning, Sir," you answered, already feeling flushed, your breathing a bit deeper and causing an uncomfortable pinch from how bra was pinching against your breasts. "You're up early today…"

"I'm still up, darling. I couldn't sleep. Something was…plaguing my mind."

"Oh?"

He gave you a single nod before raising his hand forward, curling his fingers in a motion that had your feet moving of their own accord toward him. Had you not known any better it was like he cast a spell that summoned you to his side.

But you did know better. He didn't need to cast a spell.

"Closer," he breathed when you were standing two feet in front of him, flicking his gaze down at the space between his legs.

Your heart caught in your throat, your pulse thundering in your ears and pounding so hard you could swear you felt it even at the tips of your toes. Regardless, you obeyed, stepping closer until you stood less than a foot away from him.

"I want you to know you're free to tell me if you wish for me to stop." His words came out strained, like it hurt to say them. "I would never hold it against you. If you do not feel the same I can drop it and we can both simply pretend this never happened."

There's no way, you kept on stubbornly repeating to yourself. Even as he placed his sinfully large hands at your sides, bringing you even closer, so close that you could feel his breath warming your face.

Even as he reached up to remove the clip holding your hair up, weaving his fingers into your hair to hold you in place while his eyes roamed your features, constantly returning to stare at your lips.

The stubborn voice in the back of your head only got silenced once he closed the remaining distance between you, soft lips pressing against your own in a kiss so delicate it was like he thought you were made of porcelain and you would crack at even the slightest touch.

"You can stop me if you feel I've overstepped," he whispered, still close enough that the movement of his lips still faintly ghosted over your own. "I just simply couldn't go another day without telling you--"

You felt the slightest thrill up your spine at the surprised sound that caught in the back of his throat, when you cut him off by giving him a fleeting kiss of your own.

You barely registered the heavy sound of his helmet hitting the tabletop before he pulled you closer, one hand tugging lightly at your hair, the other roaming down your body and working its way under your dress. He grasped at your thigh, letting out a sinful moan when you parted your lips for him and your tongues met in a frantic tangle.

"Do you trust me?" he rasped, catching his breath. He let out a sharp exhale, sounding relieved when you simply nodded your head. He wrapped his hand around the inside of your knee, his other arm wrapping around your waist to lift you up to straddle his lap, knees resting on the edge of the tabletop.

The precarious position had you grasping at his shoulders, leaning into him to keep yourself from keeling over.

He splayed his hand across your back, holding you steady. "I have you, sweet girl." He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, kissing his way down your neck until you let out a strangled moan once he'd reached a spot between your neck and shoulder.

You had to be dreaming. That was the only explanation for this. You slept in and you were still in your apartment and now you were about to be late for work. Yup, that was it. You tried to dig your nail into your palm, wincing at the sharp pinch you felt but nothing came of it.

"Agh--" Your nail broke skin, a tiny spot of blood blooming on your palm.

"Darling Y/N, what in the Nine are you doing?" He wrapped his hand around your wrist, running his thumb across your palm, seeing the minuscule wound.

"This is a dream," you mumbled, more to yourself. "I have to wake up."

"Little mortal," he cooed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "You think this a dream?" You whimpered at the smirk he gave you when you nodded. "So you've dreamed of this before? Of my kiss? My touch?"

Ah what the hell I'm dreaming anyway. "I have. Every night."

"Oh my sweet little mortal." He pressed a kiss to your palm, the pinprick wound suddenly nowhere to be found when he pulled away. "I can assure you…if this is a dream, it is one we share. The things I've wanted to do to you. With you. Now that I know you've wanted this, too, there is very little that can stop me from turning those dreams into reality."

He worked his hand back under your dress, between your legs, fingertips teasingly trailing up the inside of your thigh. He let out a staggering breath when he met the fabric of your panties, drenched with your arousal.

When you began to whimper from his fingers tracing along your slit he pulled you in for another kiss, effectively muffling your moans when he began to circle your clit over your panties. You started to roll your hips into his touch in response, your body already aching for more.

"So deliciously eager," he purred, kissing his way to your ear. "But I'll be needing you to stay alert, darling." You let out a little squeak when his hold tightened around your waist, keeping you from grinding your hips and chasing your own pleasure. "Now tell me what will be on my itinerary for today."

The softly growled order had your mind scrambling, thoughts that usually easily stitched together to form whatever answer he needed suddenly becoming disjointed and lost to the recesses of your consciousness. "Wait what?"

"I'm sure you understand my need for those under my employ to be mentally sharp as a tack. Regardless of my desire and affection for you, sweet mortal, you are still among those people." You arched your back, pressing your chest against his when he moved the fabric of your panties aside, sliding a single finger inside you and moving in long, languid strokes. "However now we could perhaps make our little morning discussions a touch more…interesting."

"You have the p-press briefing at eight and--Ohh fuck!" Your grip on his shoulders tightened when he inserted a second finger and curled them upwards, brushing against a spot that had you letting out the most obscene moan that filled his office.

"Such vulgar words from your lucious lips," he panted, stealing another kiss from you, nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away. "Like watching an angel in the midst of corruption. On her pretty little knees for her god." He brushed against the spot with firmer strokes, making you wetter and turning you into a whimpering mess. "Keep going. What comes after the briefing?"

Your mind was spinning trying to recall. You mentally smacked yourself for struggling to remember when you'd just been committing the schedule to memory on your Uber ride here.

"U-Uhm…You have a pre--a prefatory meeting with Morgan Stark at 9:30 to dis--Fucking hell--To discuss free sustainable e-energy to lower class communities." You kept on frantically combing through your memories of your ride over here to recall the rest of the schedule.

"And what else, sweetheart?" He stilled his fingers while pressed on that same spot, lightly ghosting the pad of his thumb over your clit. "You're already doing so well. Finish it so we may move on to more…pleasurable…activities."

He pressed his lips to the base of your throat, the feel of him sucking lightly on the skin driving you near incoherent. "You--You have a meeting with R & B at three. To fi--" You threw your head back and let out a howling moan, his hand tightening on your back to keep you from falling over. "To finalize the contracts for the Department of Defense. And your security detail."

"Not just my security," he grunted, starting to stroke his fingers again. "Yours, too."

That was enough to break through your pleasure-induced haze by a fraction. "Hold on. What? Sir, I don't need--Ohh!" The rest of your words died with an obscene moan when he started flicking his fingers rapidly inside you.

"You're far too valuable for me to not allocate resources to ensure your safety when I can't protect you myself," he explained, peppering kisses across your collarbone. "Is that all for my day, sweet girl?"

"Y-Yes!" you whined, trying desperately to move your hips for even the tiniest bit more friction. "That's everything."

"Excellent." He moved his hand up to hold you by the back of your neck, letting out a sinful groan when he licked into your mouth. "And you'll be joining me in all of those, won't you?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I always want you with me," he murmured against your slips, letting out a moan of his own when he kissed you again, starting to move his fingers faster and pressing his thumb firmly on your clit. "Now come for me, my sweet mortal. My corrupted little angel. Make a mess on your god's fingers."

Your orgasm overtook you as the god moved his hand to your lower back, guiding your movements as you rode out your high, coating his fingers with your release. Your mind was a haze, the sound of his raspy utterances of your name barely hitting your ears. His chest heaved against yours, lips pressing soft kisses to the side of your face while your breathing evened out.

When he pulled his digits out of you, you let out a whiney groan, already feeling the loss of him. The sight of the god placing his fingers in his mouth, his sinfully dexterous tongue lapping up every drop of your juices from his skin, had you squirming in his lap all over again.

"More already?" he teased, pulling you in for another kiss. You could faintly taste yourself on his tongue. "What a beautifully insatiable little mortal you are. It's as if the Norns had made you just for me." His hands freely roamed your back while he kissed his way down your neck, sucking a bruise onto your collarbone. "I've indulged myself in such fantasies of claiming you on every surface of this office. Of every room in this house. I want to lay you down on my desk without a stitch of clothing on you and get drunk on the taste of you."

You could only respond with a faint whimper, images of what he'd described taking up all the space in the forefront of your mind. "Please…"

"I promise you we'll have all the time to make every single one of those debauched fantasies come to life, sweet girl." He kissed you again, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the table, softly chuckling against your lips when you started to pout at your feet hitting the ground. "But I want our first night together somewhere more intimate. A moment that shouldn't be rushed and stolen between meetings, held in secrecy in my office."

He held your chin delicately between his fingers, keeping you from looking away at him. The mere sight of the near fully blacked out eyes shining with sincerity and held back words was enough to have your knees buckling again.

"Later tonight," he continued. "When everyone's day is over, then our night can begin. I'll bring you to my private quarters and there…" He took a deep breath, a brilliant smile stretching across his face, a real one so starkly different from the practiced smirks he gave the public. "There I will make love to you."

He guided you to take a step back from him, your heart fluttering when he placed a soft kiss to your forehead before conjuring a majestic golden mirror into the room with a flick of his wrist. The image of you visibly disheveled, paired with the smeared lipstick marks all over President Loki's face, had you biting your lip trying to hold back a smile of your own.

You held the undone ribbon of your dress between your fingers. "And here I spent a good ten minutes on this trying to look all perfect," you told him playfully, a fit of giggles finally escaping you when he took the straps from your hands and used them to pull you to him once again, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

"Much as I appreciate the effort and having you look as if you'd gift-wrapped yourself just for me with this lovely little flourish, may I say that it matters not how you dress. You were already perfect the day I first saw you on the campaign floor."

"I was wearing a ratty old sweater from college," you shot back, finding it hard to breathe.

"The color of the sky on a stormy day." He brushed his nose against yours, pressing a soft kiss to the tip. "Turn around. Face the reflection."

When you faced the mirror again, he redid the ribbon exactly as it was when you left your apartment with a wave of his hand, kissing along the side of your face as he put your clip back in your hair.

"There you are, sweetheart," he cooed, nipping at the shell of your ear. "Not a hair out of place." Another wave of his hand and he, too, had returned to his state before you walked into the office. "I'd very much like for you to join me for breakfast."

You answered only with a nod, reaching for his hand.

As he led you down the halls toward the dining room, you sent Tasha a quick text.

About what you said earlier…fingers don't count, right?

A/N: It's finally done! The initial 5 stories goal of Kinktober 2023 are all up and I'm finally going back to writing the series I haphazardly dropped when I decided to write these pieces over a month ago. And I finally have a President Loki story in my little library of works 😳👀

I swear I didn't expect to write such a mega chonker for the first President Loki story but I got all kinds of carried away…so much so that there are scenes that I cut from the final draft that might become drabbles somewhere down the line.

For now though…back to the blorbos of 'one look & they'll know', 'relinquish the crown', 'the final Lady Sharpe', 'let me hear you', 'rules of conduct', 'feels like mine'…and some other not-so-secret projects 😳👀

Ohh…and that bit in the end where he pulls on the ribbons of her dress? This was fully the vibe:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

Kinktober taglist: @azula-karai-27

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #president loki x reader #president loki x female reader #president loki smut #muddyorbs writes #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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afewproblems · 1 year

Text

(Prefacing this: the compliments are not my brain child, I wondered what would happen if Eddie gave Steve some Leslie Knope-esque endearment!)

"Steve you're a genius! Your brain is almost as perfect as your face!" Eddie exclaims after Steve manages to offer Eddie a perfect ending to his new D&D campaign.

It throws Steve off kilter in a way he's never felt before. He's used to compliments about his appearance; he wasn't Steve-the-hair-Harrington for nothing after all.

Eddie certainly has a way with words, and apparently, the compliments are no exception.

But no one would say he's a genius. It leaves him with a warm feeling in his chest and a small smile whenever Eddie isn't looking.

Steve doesn't want to read too much into it, their friendship is still relatively new and they've grown so close so fast, but Steve can't help but notice that it keeps happening.

While they grab a beer at the Hideaway just the two of them, Steve hustles Eddie at pool, turning the game around with a wink and sinking the rest of the balls in a matter of moments.

"Steve, you cunning, pliable, chestnut haired sunfish!"

Steve is grateful for the low light in the bar and hides his smile in his pint glass.

It happens again when Steve surprises Eddie with two sandwiches and a thermous of soup he packs for their last stargazing trip to the quarry

"Oh Steve, you perfect sunflower!"

This one is his favorite so far. Steve can't help the smile and soft flush that paints his face for the rest of the night after Eddie blurts it out.

After a few weeks of this, Steve can't keep his curiosity at bay any longer.

"Eds?" Steve says one afternoon while it's just the two of them in the store front of Family video. Eddie flips through a magazine at the counter as Steve rolls the return cart back to the front.

Eddie looks up and grins as their eyes meet, "yeah Stevie?"

"Why do you, I mean, not that I don't enjoy it, I mean--"

Eddie snorts as he closes the magazine, "you good sweetheart?"

Steve hazards a quick glance around the empty store once more. Robin still seems to be on break in the back room so they have at least a few more moments without an audience.

"The compliments," he whispers eventually.

Eddie tilts his head to the side with a small grin and nods, waiting for Steve to continue.

"I just...why?"

Eddie falters for just a second before he closes the magazine and walks around the counter.

"Steve," Eddie says softly as he takes the opposite side of the return cart handles.

"Eddie..."

"I think you know exactly what I meant by every single one of those compliments big boy".

"I think I liked Sunflower better," Steve murmurs as Eddie takes a step past the cart, into his space.

He's close enough that Steve can count the light freckles on the bridge of Eddie's nose.

"Me too," Eddie hums he leans in close and Steve feels his eyes flutter shut as Eddie reaches for Steve's hands gripping the cart handle.

"Hey Steve-- OH GOD, GROSS!" Robin screams from the Employee's Only door behind them, "get a room you skeeves!"

Steve flinches as his eyes open, but Eddie looks cool as a cucumber with a sly grin on his face.

"If uh, you're done your break there Buckley," Eddie snickers as Robin covers her face with her hands, peeking through her ringed fingers, "I think Stevie will be going on his, and uh, getting a room".

Steve flushes from his chest to the tips of his ears but he can't help the wide grin the blooms over his face as Eddie winks at him.

Eddie's cheerful laugh and Steve's giggles ring out as they race past her for the backroom, drowning out Robin's groan of disgust as she throws a tape at the pair of them.

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #robin buckley #something soft for you guys #steve x eddie #robin thinks they are disgustingly sappy #getting together #they have been orbiting each other for weeks #leslie knope compliments are just the best and i wanted to shower Steve with them

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 21 days

Note

i keep laughing when i read the dnd campaign with the beast pirates-

now i need to see how it would go with shanks and his crew

Imagine DND game night with the Red Hair pirates

Yassop: *the reluctant DM* All alright, so you've all fallen through a sinkhole and landed in the goblin King's throne room. Benn's paladin lands directly on the heir to the goblin throne, dealing *rolls dice* 17 points crush damage, and you killed him.

Benn: oh come on, I didn't even do anything.

Yassop: the goblin king, with his too-tight pants, ruffly white shirt, and long blond hair, launches himself to his feet. And in a booming voice, he yelled out, "These outsiders have murdered my son! Throw them in the dungeon!"

You: but it was Benn's fat ass that did it! Why do I have to go to the dungeon?

Yassop: The goblin king pauses, clearly thinking it over, after a moment he says, "Fine, that one's excused," before yelling, "but the rest go to the dungeon!"

Lime Juice: fuck me.

Shanks: what the fuck, we just broke out of jail less than three in-game hours ago!

Yassop: *definitely not punishing them for murdering an important NPC, and is trying to buy himself time to figure out what to do* Huh, I hadn't noticed...

Lucky Roux: For the love of god!

Yassop: Anyway, the entire party, minus (y/n) Dragon born, is taken to the dungeon. The goblin king turns to your dragon-born and looks you over, "Now, what shall we do with you?"

You: I'd like to roll a perception check, I'd like to know the vibe of the goblin king's court, from the nobles to the servants. *Rolls a D20* Fifteen with my plus eight modifiers, so twenty-three.

Yassop: Both groups, nobles, and serfs, are terrified of their king. You can see that a servant in the far corner has bandages under his shirt. It appears that he's been flogged recently. You notice, the nobles' eyes darting nervously as they mutter to one another.

You: I'd like to offer my services to his majesty, as a bard.

Yassop: The king scoffs, "I have plenty of bards, I have no use for another, you shall tend to the hearths of my castle. Go, start with the kitchens." You are taken to the kitchens and see it's dark, humid, hot, and crowded. The servants are wary of you, you see many of them are injured, and gaunt. The châtelaine approaches you and hands you a large rusty ring of keys and a map. She tells you your responsibilities are to make sure all the fires in the castle are lit.

You: and how much am I paid?

Yassop: she scoffs, "Your pay is food in your belly, a roof over your head, and clothes on your back. Now get started." And she leaves in a huff.

You: I'd like to persuade the servants to work together to overthrow the Goblin King because they deserve fair wages and safe working conditions.

Lime Juice: *chortling,* of course, unionizing them is your first move.

Yassop: *frustrated,* roll a d20.

You: *rolls* nat twenty, let's fucking go!!

Yassop: you inspire a popular servant to take the lead, and they overthrow the goblin King. The servants beat him to death. *Rubbing his temples in irritation*

You: I free the group from the dungeon while the servants deal with the king, using the keys and map the châtelaine gave me.

Shanks: Before we leave, can we look for treasure?

You: .... let's only take a reasonable amount, we wouldn't want to make them our enemies.

Benn: very wise.

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #red hair shanks #red hair pirates #red haired pirates #benn beckman #yassop #lucky roux #lucky roo #lime juice #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #no beta we die like men #4/6/24

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capsicle-evans · 10 months

Text

The Make Believe Ms Evans

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: A PR marriage between Y/N and Chris Evans has skyrocketed their careers but their sex lives has never been this low. Up until now.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, ass play, swearing.

Part 1

“Stay still” Marina, my make up artist warns me as she applies my eyeliner. “Can’t fuck this up now”

“Claire would probably murder you” I grin as I feel the weight of Marina’s hand on my cheekbone. “Did you know that you make funny faces when you are doing my make up?”

“It’s my concentration face” She winks at me before setting the pen on the table. “There, all done”

“Just in time” I whisper as Claire enters the bathroom, a stern look on her face.

“Y/N, can you join us in the living room, please?” Claire, my publicist, asks me.

“Depends” I twist my mouth to the side. “Am I getting lectured?”

“Depends” She gives me the same look I just gave her. “Are you going to comply?”

“Ugh, fine I’ll join you” I roll my eyes, standing up from my makeup chair. “You know, you need to stop being so grumpy all the time. It’s not good for your health”

“Yeah well that’s what working for you gets me” She turns around, guiding me towards the living area of the suite.

I grab the train of my dress before following her steps, making sure not to step over the hem. As soon as I enter the space, I notice Chris standing in front of the mirror, his eyes fixated on his tie, completely oblivious of my presence. I walk pass him, towards the chair next to the window, sitting down gracefully just to make sure my dress remains intact.

“I’m here” Polly appears from the adjacent room, a lot of papers in her hand and her phone between her ear and her shoulder. “Gotta go, call you later”

I take a couple of seconds to look at Chris, his black suit and black shirt hugging his entire frame. I turn my eyes to Polly before Chris can look back. “What’s going on?”

“What the fuck is going on with you two?” Polly asks as she places her phone down over the coffee table. “And why is this the fifth call I receive today about you two?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about” I pout, reaching for a chocolate truffle but setting it down after thinking of the mess I might make of my dress.

“Well, enews is asking if you guys are getting a divorce, people magazine is asking me who cheated” Claire snarks back at me.

“Well, we know the answer to that one” I smile sarcastically.

“Seriously, Y/N? You’re still on that shit?” Chris rolls his eyes, running his hand through his hair.

“What? She asked and it’s not like I actually care” I tell him before turning back to Claire and Polly. “But for real, what’s up with the questions? We haven’t done anything”

“Yeah, that’s the problem, you two don’t look at each other or even talk to each other during events and people are starting to notice it” Polly says as she takes a seat across from me. “Guys, we know this wasn’t a love match but for fuck’s sake, you guys are actors, try to pretend at least”

Chris and I got married about 4 months ago after a lot of campaigning on Polly and Claire’s part. Every since Chris and I did a movie together two years ago, our fame skyrocketed and our teams thought that it would be a great idea if we dated. Or at least we pretended to. But in reality, we hated each other but apparently that’s what our movie needed since it was an enemys to lovers story. Fans went batshit crazy after a picture of Chris leaving my apartment at 3 am went viral. Truth was, he was there to apologize after a massive fallout we had during shooting. So we pretended to date and our relationship became like crack for the fans. It only took a couple of months before they were selling us the idea of marriage and only an idiot would deny the good press that our relationship brought to our careers, so we agreed.

“She basically chops my hand off as soon as I even try to step close to her” Chris waves his hand at me. “Take it up with her”

“Nice, put the blame on me” I chuckle. “Fucking prick”

“See, this has to stop if you guys don’t want to end up doing lifetime movies for the rest of your lives” Claire glares at us accusingly.

“If I’ll put me out of this misery” I exhale loudly but soon stop when Claire gives me a stern look. “Kidding”

“Guys, please” Polly sighs. “We know this situation is not ideal but I need you guys to cooperate”

“Fine” I shrug. “We’ll be more lovey doveys with each other”

“Chris?” Polly looks up at him with pleading eyes.

“It’s not like I have a choice” Chris turns to me. “No offense”

“I’d have to care in order for it to offend me” I snark back before turning to Claire. “Sorry, from now on I’ll be a good wifey”

“God help us all” Polly looks up at the ceiling as if God can give her any guidance.

***

The limo pulls up right at the edge of the red carpet, flashes and shouts already making me feel anxious. Chris opens up the door from his side and steps out, waving immediately at the people who have turned their attention to our car. He turns to give me a hand, his free hand reaching for the train of my dress.

“Thank you” I whisper as he bends down to spread the train nicely so it can be appreciated in its full glory.

“That’s what lovey dovey husbands do” Chris grins as he places a hand just above my butt cheek. “Try not to chop off my hand”

“Try not to tempt me” I say with a tight smile in my lips.

Chris guides me towards the red carpet, our names being shouted from every angle. With his left hand still on my back, he pulls to his side to pose for some pictures. He then turns to me, leaning in to whisper something in my ear. “Pretend I just said something funny”

“That’s hard since I don’t have a point of reference” I pretend to giggle as Chris hand pinches my skin. “Jerk”

“See, that’s why we make a lovely couple” He grins down at me, his lips pressed against my temple. “We are both assholes”

“Chris, Y/N” A pap calls our attention “look over here”

We keep posing for a couple of minutes, every once in a while looking at each other and giving a fake smile. After a while, Polly and Claire guide us to the inside of the theater where Chris’ movie is premiering. It’s about a war veteran who comes after being presumed dead. It was a heavy movie and it took a big toll on Chris but it all payed off because people where even mentioning his name along the word “oscar”.

Half way through the movie, after crying a bit over a really hard scene, an almost naked Chris came on the screen, and there was a bunch of gasps heard around the room. Chris looks good, no one could deny it, but this scene in particular really made it difficult for me to not gape at him. It was really intimate and sexy, and it focused on him going down on his estranged wife.

My hands went to the armrests, gripping a bit as Chris’ mouth hid between his costars legs. Every since we started the agreement, there was no one else. At least on my part. Mostly to avoid gossip. That meant that my sex life was basically non existent, unless anyone counted the vibrator in my bedside table.

A couple of eyes turned to my direction, hoping to see a reaction from me as I watch my husband be so intimate with another woman. I fidget a little in my seat, a warm feeling setting over my abdomen as I listen to Chris’ moans over the speakers. I need sex. Not with Chris, obviously. Just sex.

“Stop moving” Chris grunts, placing a hand over my shaking thigh. His palm is hot against my skin, making me gulp.

“Get your hand off me” I grit my teeth, trying hard not to push his hand away.

“You are moving like a worm and it’s distracting me” Chris looks down at me before taking his hand away.

“Sorry, the dress is too tight” I lie. I don’t want him to think that this is about him.

“Whatever, just stop squirming” He almost grins when I send him a death glare. “Childish”

“Idiot” I call him through my teeth.

“Both of you shut up before someone else listens” Polly pokes her head from Chris’ side, giving both of us a pointed look.

I huff before settling my back against my chair. Thankfully, the scene is over and my skin has stopped tingling. I manage to put my attention back into the movie, tears forming every once in a while. Soon after, the credits are rolling and everyone is on their feet, clapping at the whole crew.

I stand up and clap along before Claire softly pushes me to Chris’ side. Biting the inside of my lip, I wrap my arm around his waistline and look up, faking a smile. “Pretend that I just said something sweet” I whisper only form him to hear.

“That’s hard since I don’t have a point of reference” Chris grins, throwing my words back at me. “But I’ll try”

***

“God she is so pretty” I cry as I stare up at Taylor Swift as she walks around the room. Every since it was announce that she was going to be in the movie soundtrack, I nearly fainted.

“Stop being a creep” Chris gives me a weird look before going back to his whiskey.

After the movie was over, we traveled to the after party to loosen up a bit more and enjoy the cool LA night. I switched my dress before arriving, opting for a short black dress.

“Can you leave me alone? Please?” I try to not to make a face in case anyone is watching.

“Trust me, there’s nothing that I want more than to be away from you” Chris says, still holding his glass to his lips.

“You’d rather be with her?” I ask, reaching for my vodka soda.

“Seriously? Are we going there?” I can see the anger in his hands as it grips the glass. “Nothing happened”

About a month after the wedding, I started receiving texts and screenshots from one of Chris’ costars on a film. They were from a conversation between her and Chris and about how they couldn’t wait to be alone and fuck each other’s brains off. I obviously never cared about it out of jealousy but out of anger because he was making me look like an idiot. Claire and Polly had to intervene, so, after she got a deal on a movie thanks to them, the messages stopped coming.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes before going back to looking around the room. “At least she was pretty, I would actually murder you if you cheated on me with an ugly person”

“I didn’t cheat” He exhales harshly, really annoyed with me.

“Glad to see you are not biting each other’s heads off” Claire joins us at the VIP table, a glass of white wine in her hand.

“Come back in 5 minutes and we’ll see” I give her a sarcastic smile. “It’s really tempting”

“Maybe you should fuck the anger away” Polly smirks as she sits next to Claire.

I immediately tense up, remembering that scene from the movie. “I’d rather shave my entire hair and eat it before doing that”

Chris laughs, clearly amused by my comment. “And they say romance is dead”

“When it comes to this relationship, they are right” I flop back down on the couch. “Anyways, enough about our wonderful marriage. I want to dance or do something fun for once”

“Let’s go” Chris stands up, stretching his hand to me. I stare at his hand for a couple of seconds. “Before I change my mind”

“You want to dance with me?” I blink up at him.

“That’s what couples do, Y/N” Chris rolls his eyes before reaching for my hand and forcing my to stand up.

“So romantic” Polly teases, earning a giggle from Claire.

“Oh shut up” I glare at them before following Chris to where there are some people dancing.

Taylor has been singing for a while now, the tunes of Dress starting to slither through the speakers. Chris pulls me against his chest, his hand landing on the curve between my ass and my back. People start to turn their attention to us.

“People are staring” I whisper against his jacket.

“Ignore them” Chris whispers against my ears. “Just remember you have to look like a madly in love wife”

“Yeah, because that’s easy” I chuckle. “I’ve never been married before and I’ve never been madly in love either”

“Never?” He asks me, his breath fanning my skin as we sway with the music. “A high school boyfriend?”

“I mean I’ve had boyfriends” I explain. “Just never that serious. You?”

“Not really, I mean, I enjoyed my past relationships but never enough to wish to marry them” Chris spins me around just as Taylor starts singing the chorus.

“And yet you married someone you actually hate” I laugh, seeing the irony.

“Yeah, well, at least you are hot” He pinches my back softly.

“Christopher Robert Evans, is that a compliment?” I fake gasp. He has called me this before. And so have I. Just because we are not particularly fond of each other doesn’t mean we are blind.

“Don’t let it get to your head” Chris rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to get along here”

“I mean we are making progress” I look around the room, scanning the crowd. “This is the longest we have gone without giving each other an insult”

“Don’t tempt me” He chuckles. “No but I’m serious… We should try to at least get along”

“Yeah, I guess” I bit the inside of my cheeks. We stay pressed against each other, surrounded just by Taylor’s sweet voice and some chatter.

“I never cheated” Chris breaks our silence, his muscle tensing under my hands. “I know that I don’t owe you an explanation and I know you probably are not going to believe me. But I didn’t. I promised to respect you, and I plan on sticking to that promise, fake husband or not”

I fix my eyes on the button of his shirt, not daring to look him at his eyes. “I know… I guess I just chose to believe it to have a reason to hate you. I’m sorry”

“Okay, let’s just put that behind us” Chris relaxes, his back slouching a bit. “We can be friends, Y/N. God knows how long we are going to need to keep this going, might as well get along”

“Pains me to say this, but you are right” I finally look up at him, his blue orbs staring down at me. “Hi, I’m Y/N. And you are?”

Chris throws his head back, laughing. “You have my last name, Y/N. We can start over without weird introductions”

“Indulge me, Evans” I poke his chest. “I don’t know that much about you”

“What do you want to know?” He raises his eyebrow. “Ask away”

“What’s your favorite color?” I blush, realizing how stupid my question is. “Sorry, I’ll try again”

“Green” He ignores my second statement. “Yours?”

“Blue, but like light blue, kinda like your e-“ I cut myself, my cheeks flaring.

“Here I was asking to be friends and you are just laying it out on me” Chris grins hard. “You waste no time, Ms. Evans”

“Idiot�� I slap his arm playfully. “I meant I like the shade, that’s all”

“Sure sure” He nods, a smug look on his face. “My turn… Favorite animal?”

“Mmm tough one… I really like raccoons and-“ I stop myself when Chris’ laugh erupts from his chest. “What?”

“Who the fuck likes Raccoons?” His eyes are still tingling with amusement.

“They are cute and funny” I defend myself. “They are like just so hilarious”

“Fuck that’s good” He shakes his head. “You are weird”

“Many people like raccoons” I fight him. “You need to learn to appreciate their beauty”

“Yeah, no thanks” Chris stops moving and grabs my hand. “Why don’t we go back to the table? Seems stupid to try to have a conversation while dancing”

“Okie dokie” I follow his lead back to our VIP table.

Polly and Claire are deep into a conversation, probably some gossip or something like that. PR people always know everything about everyone. We sit down across from there, getting back their attention.

“Oh look, you guys made it without a scratch” Polly nods proudly. “Who would’ve thought?”

I roll my eyes before turning my eyes back to Chris, falling back into our conversation.

***

“Hi, bub” I lean down, my heels in on hand and the other one petting Dodger behind his ears. “Where you a good boy to uncle Scott?”

Scott was our designated dog-sitter most of the nights. Neither of them minded, Dodger loved him so much, he actually listened to him.

“He’s always a good boy” Chris bents down to plant a kiss over the dog’s head before walking away from the entry way.

I make my way to my room, Dodger following right behind me. I hear Chris yell “traitor” before I disappear into my closet.

A couple of minutes later, I’m tucked in my bed, Dodger at the edge, his head over my feet. Chris’ footsteps catch hims attention, his head snapping up. “You traitor”

“Let him be” I pull the dog closer to me. “He always sleeps with you”

Chris and I have separate rooms and I only sleep on the masters bedroom whenever we have other people around. People that don’t know about the whole fake marriage thing. Mostly the maid and the cook and both of our families. Even Scott believed we were happily married.

“Yeah, cuz he is mine” Chris sasses. “C’mon boy”

But Dodger stays put. “Just give up already”

“Fine, just this once” Chris drops the subject before snapping his head up. “Uh, I forgot. Do you have any spare razor? I forgot to ask Mayra to restock my shelf”

“Yeah sure” I move slowly so that dodger won’t sprint out of my bed. I push the covers away and step out of the bed.

Quickly, I reach the bathroom and pull a pink razor from the cabinet under my sink. “You’ll have to settle for this pink one” I stretch my hand before looking up, Chris’ eyes not exactly meeting mine.

Fuck. I forgot that I chose the pink nightgown. The one the gave me too much cleavage and barely reached under my butt cheeks. Nervously, I reach for my rob that’s draping over my night stand, snapping Chris’ attention away from my bare legs.

“Uh, yeah no, thanks” Chris mutters, snatching the razor from my hand and walking away from my room a bit to fast.

I shake my head a bit before moving back to my bed, Dodger still sprawled on the edge of the bed. “Let’s sleep this off, buddy”

About 10 minutes have passed since I turned off the lamp over my nightstand, when a weird sound startles me awake. I squint my eyes, as if that’s going to help me decipher the source of the noise. A couple of seconds later, right when I’m about to drop it, I hear it again. A moan. A moan from Chris. His bathroom shares a wall with my room, sounds slipping into my area really easy. I can hear his muffled moans a bit clearer, connecting my ear to the wall.

“This fucker” I feel anger bubbling inside of me. He brought someone home. After saying he wouldn’t cheat on my. Well not technically on me, on the promise of respecting me.

I push away the covers from my frame, earning a glare from Dodger before he moves to settle over the free side of the bed.

I walk fast towards his room, ready to rip him a new one. I push pass his door and head straight to the bathroom. I keep waiting for a pair of heels or some panties dropped somewhere on his room but my eyes remain cleaned from that sight. I’m about to burst into the bathroom when the imagine forming on front of me stops me cold on my feet.

Chris’ has his back against the wall, the shower head splashing his face, water dripping down his torso. His hand is pumping his swollen dick, curses coming out of his mouth along with the movement.

It’s like I am being hypnotized. I want to move my eyes away, but the scene in front of me so fiery, my eyes remain glued to his member. I feel a warm spreading in between my legs as Chris pumps harder. He lets out a hard loud moan as white loads burst from the tip of his dick. He huffs, rolling his head back, letting the water wash away all the produce of his effort.

I snap out of it, walking backwards fast before sprinting back to my room. I close my door slowly, making sure not to make a sound before hiding under my bed spread. I close my eyes hard trying to remove the picture from my head but the heat in between my legs not allowing me to.

I give up after 5 minutes, poking my hand out from under the bed covers. Without even looking, I dig my hand into my nightstand, searching for my pink vibrator. This will have to do for the night.

I have a plan for tomorrow.

***

“Let me get it off, bub” I bent down to release Dodger from his leash, the pup ready to sprint to the backyard.

Dodger and I love to go on hikes together, just the two of us and the sun rising over the horizon.

I hear from clattering from the kitchen so I step into the area, spotting Chris over the stools that surround the kitchen island. “Hey there”

“Morning” Chris looks up at me, as he sets his coffee down. “How was the hike?”

“Pretty good” I reach for the top cabinet, looking for a glass. Chris probably put the dishes away because the glasses are to far back, forcing me on my tip toes.

I can feel Chris’ eyes burning a hole over my ass as the my tennis skirt rises enough to expose the underside of my cheeks. I turn around and Chris snaps his gaze back to his omelet, his cheeks turning red.

I fill my glass with water and gulp it down, not taking my eyes from him. I settle the glass down before moving to stand in front of him, the kitchen island separating us.

“Let’s have sex” I say hard, so hard that Chris starts coughing as a piece of egg gets caught up in his throat.

“I’m sorry, what?” He looks up at me, his breath a bit hard from the chocking and maybe from my statement.

“Let’s have sex” I repeat myself. “You said you were not going to cheat and neither will I. But we both have needs and I think it’s a good idea”

“What are you even-?” Chris starts but I roll my eyes.

“I heard you last night” I confess. His face turns a deep shade of red, the vein on the side of his neck pulsing. “Look, I won’t judge you, I did it, too.

“You- what?” Chris’ breath hitches, his knuckles turning white as he closes his hands.

“C’mon we are not five” I step around the kitchen island, closer to him but still leaving some space between us. “We can get each other off, and we are married so it’s not like we are doing harm to anyone

“I don’t- I’m” Chris stammers a bit. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea”

I stare at him for a couple of seconds before finally speaking up again. “Fine, I’m not going to beg. I still have my vibrator. It’ll probably do a better job, anyways”

I turn around to leave but Chris’ hand flys up to my neck, gripping the back to turn me back around.

“What did you just said?” He brings his face close to mine. His grip tightening a bit. “Repite it”

“I can do a better job with my vibrator than you” I breath out, focusing my eyes on him.

Chris grunts before crashing his lips down to mine angrily. A moan scapes my mouth as he bits into my lower lip, making way for his tongue to punish me. His free hand travels down to my leg, pulling me up to place me on the kitchen counter.

I push my hands into his hair as his tongue swipes my bottom lip clean before moving down to my jaw and the to my neck before settling on the spot right under my earlobe. He sucks hard as his hands start pulling at my sports bra. My sweaty chest makes it a bit hard so I pull away to help him. As soon as the textile is not longer covering my boobs, Chris dives right in for one of my nipples, forcing me to arch my back. While his tongue polishes my hard nipple, his right hand moves to the other unattended bud of flesh. First his palm rolls against the harden button, his calloused skin sending tingles straight to my core.

“Fuck” I moan as I his salive drips down a long my nipple. I can’t keep my eyes away from the scene, my burning gaze forcing Chris to look up at me as he pulls my nipple with his teeth. “Oh god”

“Lay down” Chris pushes me down with his hand until my back connects with the cold granite of the counter.

I bring my hands to his shoulders, tugging at the fabric of his shirts, signaling him to take it off. “Get rid of this, Christopher”

“On it” He groans against my skin, stepping away just enough to pull the shirt over his head. His hard pecks and abdomen glistening in front of me, the pants forcing his muscles to look more prominent. “Satisfied?”

“No” I pull him down against my lips, my tongue making a mess of his bottom lip. “Take me like a man, Evans” I mutter against his lips.

“As you wish” Chris groans before moving his mouth down along my skin until it reaches the edge of my skirt. I wait for him to take it off but instead he just pushes it up and tucks down my underwear along with my leggings. He steps back a bit to pull his pants down, his boxers following the same fate.

“You know how many times my eyes were glued to your ass as you skipped around with this fucking skirt?” Chris growls as his spreads my thighs as my pussy radiates heat right in front of him. “How many times I picture your ass red after a good slapping, only this thine material covering the swell of your ass?”

I moan loudly as his hands grab my thighs, my ass hanging slightly over the edge of the counter. “I want you to be loud, Y/N” Chris pinches my butt cheek before lining himself up to me. “Moan my name”

“Yes, Chris” I throw my head back as he rubs my entrance with his tip “Rip me open”

Chris pushes just enough for his head to enter my pussy, my folds hiding his pink tip. “Yeah stretch me open” I throw my head back as he sways back and forth, entering me slowly.

“I can’t hold it anymore” Chris grips my thighs. “Brace yourself”

I grab the edge of the kitchen counter, my knuckles turning white as he pushes hard into me. There’s a sting that makes tears form on my eyes. I’ve never had someone this big inside of me, my pussy throbbing at the new feeling.

“Look at you” Chris presses his thumb against my clit. “Taking me so good” He throws his head back as his entire cock disappears into me. His thrusts are hard and slow, building up the tension in my lower belly.

“C’mere” Chris stops, pulling out so I cry at the loss of him. “Let me turn you around”

Chris puts me on my feet before turning me around so my ass is pressed against his hard cock. “Bend over, Y/N”

I do as I’m told, pressing my chest against the cold tiles. Chris grabs both of my hands and holds them behind my back, using the as support to hold himself as he re enters me. “That’s right. So tight”

I’m lost in my own moans when I feel Chris spit on his hand, before pressing his thumb against my asshole. “Chris” I tense up immediately.

“I’m not going to fuck you there, Y/N” He massages around my hole. “I just like to see the way you clench up” he caresses my butt cheek, trying to get me to loosen up again. “Do you want me to stop?”

He waits for my answer as I take in the sensation, his thumb placing a soft pressure over my hole. It’s not bad. “No, it’s okay”

“Good” Chris grunts as he picks up his pace, plunging hard against me. This new position really allows him to go in deep, reaching a new part of me that has me whimpering.

“Chris” I whine when he angles himself so that I can feel him fill me up to the point where me knees are shaking under me. “I won’t last”

“Yes, cum around my cock” He reaches down to grab my pony tail in a fist, making me arch my back. His movements become erratic as he speeds up, encouraging the orgasm out of me.

“Yes yes yes” I cry as I feel the tightness around my pussy before the release finally arrives. The cries that come out of ny mouth are filthy, so filthy that Chris drops down and plugs in his thumb into my mouth. I bit at his skin, the waves of pleasure still rocking my core.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Chris groans as he pulls out, his entire load landing on my back. “Fuck yes”

I’m still shaking, waiting for him to catch his breath so that he can help me stand up. “Chris, fuck that was…”

I’m so out of breath I don’t even finish my sentence, Chris doing it for me. “So hot”

I feel him pull away from me, a cool breeze replacing the warmth of his body. “Don’t move” I hear him move around the kitchen, looking for a clean towel before running it down the the warm water that pours out of the faucet.

Chris walks back to me, cleaning his entire release from my back. “I think you need to wash your hair” I can hear the grin on his smug face.

“Seriously?” I groan, standing up. “Aim better next time, Evans”

“You want a next time?” He throws the dirty towel at the floor where my sweaty clothes are.

“I’m game if you are” I shrug, tugging the elastic out of my hair.

“Then let’s play, Y/N” Chris grins hard as his dick starts twitching.

****************************************************

New series coming your waaaay🩵 hope you guys like this

#chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x famous!reader #chris evans x reader

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withacapitalp · 3 months

Text

Reasons

I wrote this for the STWG daily prompt today which was "Joyce" and uhhhhh I'm sorry haha thank you for @stevethehairington and @hairstevington for beta and encouragement and generally being the best of the best!

Read it on ao3 here

The thing Steve had always loved most about the Byers home was the clutter.

There wasn’t a single surface that was bare. The tv stand was filled to the bursting with scratched up VHS tapes, the bookshelves crammed with dimestore paperbacks. There were always dishes on the kitchen table, magnets holding up dozens of drawings on the fridge, even the hallway was littered with picture frames. It was a complete contrast to the house he had grown up in, with bare cream colored walls and perfectly immaculate rooms.

It was a mess, and none of the things in the Byers home were worth much, but every item in the home was treasured, important, valued. Everything in their home mattered.

Now there was nothing left in the house. Nothing but boxes and empty air.

Boxes.

And Steve.

And Joyce.

“Where’d Jonathan and the kids go?” Steve asked when the silence had finally grown to be too much, looking around the barren space that used to be the living room.

Joyce had always apologized for how uncomfortable the couch was. Every single time he had ended up on her doorstep late at night, after every midnight mug of hot cocoa, every midnight conversation where Steve finally finally let some of his anxieties slip out, she had led him over to that couch and wrapped him in a hand me down quilt that smelled old and worn and loved and apologized to him about how lumpy the couch was.

Steve had never known what she was talking about. He had never slept anywhere that felt more comfortable.

But the couch was gone now. Probably tucked away in the big box truck outside, or sold at the garage sale they had held last week. Or maybe Joyce had just thrown away like the trash it had always been, finally getting rid of the dead weight of a couch she didn’t really like all that much.

She probably wanted a new couch for their new house. Something better.

“They’re all at the Wheelers. Jonathan snuck out around three in the morning to go stay with Nancy tonight, and all of the kids slept over in the basement,” Joyce explained, a wry little smile falling on her lips as she fondly rolled her eyes at her children’s antics, “One last campaign before we hit the road.”

Steve hummed, acting like this was fresh news to him when he already knew. He was the one that had driven Dustin, Lucas, and Max there. Hell, he had stayed to watch part of the campaign, and to give El and Will one last hug when it was just him and them.

He wasn’t exactly sure why he was playing along, why he was continuing to pretend, but it was easier than just staring at the place where the couch used to live in complete silence. Better than Joyce knowing exactly how little she knew about Steve’s life these days.

“I’ve missed seeing you around,” She tried, creeping just a little bit closer to where he was standing, “We haven’t really talked much since…”

Joyce trailed off but they both knew what she was talking about.

Since the realtor's sign had appeared at the end of the Byers driveway.

Since Joyce had finally had to admit that she was taking Jonathan, Will, and El away.

Since their big fight.

“I’ve been busy,” Steve said shortly, turning away from the living room and towards the kitchen, hoping that would take the spike out of his heart.

No, now the pain was worse, because the kitchen table was gone too, whisked away like it had never existed in the first place. Like Joyce had never sat him down there and patched him up after Billy’s fight, both of their eyes drooping with exhaustion but her fingers still sure and steady. Like Steve had never leaned against it, trying to understand his homework while Joyce did her best to explain why the color of curtains in a story mattered. Like there had never been breakfasts, or dinners, or midnight cups of hot chocolate that were only ever for the two of them.

Like Steve had never had a place here at all.

“What do you need from me? You said you needed something,” Steve asked in a rush, turning away from the kitchen as nausea began to bubble over in his stomach. He wanted to run, to break free, to escape Joyce and the house and all of the feelings that came along with it. He just wanted to give her whatever last thing she wanted to take and get away before too much of him broke.

“I did. I mean is there something else you’re doing today?” Joyce asked, startled by Steve’s sudden shift, “I thought you might want to be here when-”

“Robin and I are going to an interview,” Steve said, interrupting her in a flash. He definitely did not want to be here when they left, and he did not want to be here to say goodbye. He had already done that. He had already said his piece to Jonathan and Will and El.

Steve had nothing left to give to Joyce.

So why was he here? What could she want from him?

“It’s a big interview for a job for both of us.” He continued, laying it on thick when they both knew how thin the excuse really was. He and Robin could have done this any day, at any time. Now that the mall was gone, they had their pick of the litter for shitty jobs in town.

But Steve had purposefully asked Robin to plan the interview for today. He had done it the second Jonathan had told him their moving date. And Robin, saint that she was, had done it without asking why.

He made his bed, just like Joyce had made hers, and now they both had to lie in it.

“That’s…that’s great,” Joyce said, crossing her arms over her chest, her fingers twitching like she wanted to go for a cigarette.

“Besides it doesn’t look like you need me,” Steve said, unable to help himself. He looked around, a bitter smile on his lips, “You’ve got it pretty well handled.”

“Steve, honey…”

“Don’t,” He said immediately, stepping back when she tried to come forward to console him. That wasn’t her job anymore, it had never been her job in the first place, and Steve wasn’t going to fall for it again.

He was stupid, but he learned. Eventually, he learned.

“You already know what I think, and I don’t want to argue.” He said woodenly, the words coming out short and full of static.

He didn’t want to argue again. Not like last time.

Steve and Joyce had at least waited until Jonathan and Nancy had ushered all of the kids out of the house before exploding, but once it was just the two of them, it had been a supernova. Steve could barely remember what they had said, but he knew it was bad. That he had claimed she never cared about him at all, and she had told him that he wasn’t her responsibility.

Steve knew she had called him an entitled brat at some point.

Steve knew that he had called her a selfish bitch too.

And he had no way of knowing if Joyce actually thought he was an entitled brat, but he didn’t want to hear it. Not again. It had been hard enough to forget the way it made him feel the first time.

“It’s not an argument.” Joyce said softly, her voice as fragile as glass as she slowly lowered her hand down from where it had been reaching out to bring him into a familiar, warm, hug, “I just need you to know that it’s over now. I don’t want you looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, trying to find monsters that aren’t there.”

“Do you really believe that?” Steve asked, finally looking Joyce in the eye, “Really?”

“Yes,” She said immediately. Steve could see it in her eyes, in her voice, in the way she held herself.

She did believe it. Joyce really thought it was over. Or, at the very least, she had made herself believe that she believed it.

“Then stay,” Steve whispered, loathing himself for saying it. He had promised himself he would never again beg for someone not to leave, but now he had done it twice in just a month. Twice. Because the first time apparently hadn’t been humiliating enough.

But Steve’s hope had always been more powerful than his shame, and he couldn’t help but pray that she would listen this time. Joyce would see what leaving was doing to all of them and change her mind. It didn’t matter that the house had already been sold and the truck was already stuffed to the bursting with their belongings, it could all be undone.

Steve would carry it all back in himself, even. The couch, the kitchen table, the hand me down quilt, everything that had made this house the first place he had actually felt at home.

She could undo it all. She could put their lives back together, back to the way they had been before, and Steve wouldn’t have to think about it ever again. He wouldn’t have to agonize over how Will and El would adjust to high school without the rest of their friends, or worry about Jonathan being alone in his senior year. He wouldn’t have to think about his own empty house and the bare cream walls that hated him just for existing.

He wouldn’t have to wonder why he wasn’t enough to care about. Why everyone eventually always left him.

“If it’s gone, then there’s no reason to leave,” Steve muttered, his eyes burning as he turned them downward to the floor between them, feeling like he was eight instead of eighteen. A child instead of the adult they both knew him to be.

An adult. Soon to be the last adult left in Hawkins that knew about the Upside Down. The last adult the rest of them had to rely on.

“There’s a thousand reasons,” Joyce sighed, pulling out her most beloved weapon, “And I have to protect my kids,”

Her kids. Her kids. Not her boys anymore, now her kids, because of El.

But what about Steve’s kids? What about Max and Dustin and Lucas and Mike and Erica? How was he alone supposed to protect them when the monsters came?

What about Nancy? What about Robin? They were older, but they were still kids, weren’t they? They still needed someone to be the adult.

And a quiet, almost silent part of him, couldn’t help asking

What about me?

“From what? If it’s really over, then what are you protecting them from?” Steve asked, a question he had already pressed her to answer in their last argument.

Joyce didn’t have an answer, because they both knew the truth. This wasn’t about the kids. Not Jonathan. Not Will. Not El.

It was about Joyce. What she wanted, what she felt like she had to protect herself from.

And the worst part was Steve understood. He got why she had to leave, why she couldn’t bear to stay here any longer than she had to, but what he couldn’t understand, what he would never understand, was the need to hide behind a shadow.

“You don’t have to say the truth, but, please, don’t tell me a lie,” Steve said quietly, Joyce sucking in a sharp breath as he carefully threw her own words back in her face.

She had said it to him dozens of times over the last year, and dozens of times he had caved and told her the truth.

But Joyce was not Steve.

“Steve, it's too late to go back on this.” Joyce said firmly, as if her tone would be enough to spontaneously change Steve’s mind. He scoffed, shaking his head and turning away from her to stare out the front window. He welded his lips together, planning to keep his mouth shut and ice her out until Joyce finally got annoyed enough to cut him loose.

It wouldn’t take long.

It had only taken her six weeks to pack up their whole lives and completely tear apart Steve’s.

“I want you to come with us.”

“What?” Steve said, the shock of Joyce’s words enough to make him speak without meaning to.

“That’s why I wanted you to come here before everyone else,” Joyce said, trying to walk towards Steve again. This time he was too startled to stop her and she entered into his space, a soft smile on her face. The same smile she used to give him when she would push his hair away from his face at night, and tell him that he didn’t need to stay awake.

That she would be there, and nothing was going to get between her and her boys.

She had always said it, and they had always both known that she meant more than just Jonathan and Will.

“I wanted to ask you to come with us,” Joyce repeated, laying a soft hand on his arm.

“I don’t understand,” Steve said helplessly, his heart starting to race, the bare walls beginning to close in.

“The house we bought has a little condo next to it that’s free, and I’m sure that Doctor Owens would be able to get it put in your name the way he got mine,” Joyce explained, a plan laid out neatly, too neatly, “There’s lots of jobs out in Lenora, or you could even go to the community college there. Take some classes while you figure out what you want to do?”

This was not a spur of the moment offer. Joyce had to have thought about it before this morning. More than once.

“You want me to move to Lenora with you guys?” Steve heard himself ask, a spring blossom blooming in his chest without his permission. A little seed of hope that had no reason to exist at all.

Joyce nodded, her smile growing, and for a second Steve let himself think about it. Truly and honestly think about it.

He let himself imagine a world where he didn’t go to his interview with Robin this afternoon, and instead stayed here. Packed up the rest of the boxes, hopped in the van with Joyce, and went out to California. Where there was never any snow to shovel, no Mother and Father to disappoint, no dead end job to hate.

No monsters waiting to jump out of the shadows.

A life that was only about what he wanted, what Steve thought would be best for him. A life that came with a family that wanted him.

“It’s over and done and nothing is holding you here anymore,” Joyce pressed, looking around the empty house, “There’s no reason for you to stay.”

And the dream was gone.

Crushed into bits, shattered like a plate against a skull.

Steve had reasons, seven of them. Seven people. Seven people who had gone through hell three times for a town that didn’t care and didn’t notice. Seven people who

Seven people who deserved someone to protect them. Someone who would put them first.

Steve had never been enough of a reason for anyone to stay, never been enough to put first. Not enough for his parents, not enough for Nancy, and now not enough for Joyce.

But he would never let his kids think the same about themselves.

“No, there’s no reason for you to stay,” Steve spat out, hating how bitter he sounded, but hating even more that he had let himself fall for the same trap again. Somewhere along the way he had let those walls down, let another person in, and let her put herself where she didn’t belong.

That was the truth wasn’t it? They both knew Joyce didn’t fit where they had put her. She was never going to be his mother, and Steve had never fit into her life, but he had played pretend anyway. Ignored all the signs, ignored all the little whispers in his head that told him he was getting too close, trusting too much. He had let her brush his hair, and help him with his homework, and say the words her boys like she meant to include him.

And now Joyce was just reminding him exactly how much he meant in the grand scheme of things.

And, really, Steve only had himself to blame for the way his heart was starting to break into tiny impossible to put back together pieces. His mistake. His stupidity.

He just never fucking learned.

“At least there no reason to stay that actually ever mattered to you,” He added with a laugh that did not sound at all funny, walking out the door before he could hear another one of her lies.

#Joyce byers #Steve harrington #hurt no comfort #stranger things #st #st drabble #st3 #post s 3 #yeah this one hurts #Steve has so many issues #stwgdailyprompt

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anakin-pilled · 4 months

Text

𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part one)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 4.8k

warnings: minimal uses of y/n (trying to avoid writing this as much as possible but sometimes u need to!), awkwardness, anakin needs a break, POV switching (im trying something new, but its still in 3rd POV), reader is a popstar (very loosely based of taylor swift), too many scenes (i'll limit it next chapter) rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

taglist: lmk if u want to be added!

author's note: well, here it is!! my first anakin fanfic!! i was listening to gorgeous by taylor swift and it just reminded me of how much i hate beautiful men (hayden christensen) and the effect they have on me and then this feeling just spirialed and became a fanfic--and my first ever mini series! i'm aiming for four or five parts? enjoy!!! (proofread but if u see a mistake pls tell me). sorry if the first part is boring, i'm just trying to set the vibe and introduce the major plot elements! creds to saradika for the header!

All Anakin Skywalker wanted was one, uninterrupted kriffing break. Yet, even that seemed like too much to ask from the Maker. With an annoyed sigh, Anakin quickly ended the call on his comlink and made his way out of his living quarters and towards the Jedi Council’s meeting room. “What do they want from me now?” Anakin thought to himself.

It wasn’t unusual for Anakin to sport an attitude, but lately, his foul mood had been exacerbated in the last few months for several reasons. Anakin’s recent breakup with Padme laid heavy in his heart. As the war raged on and both of their duties called them away for weeks, even months, at a time, the young couple rarely had time to see each other. It was supposed to be a small break at first–Padme was working on an important bill that could change the tide of the war, so she wanted to focus all her energy on gaining support for the bill from fellow Senators and campaigning for its passage on the Senate floor. So, Padme suggested that she and Anakin take a quick pause on their relationship until she was finished with the bill. But even after the bill passed, Padme was too consumed by her senatorial duties to put her all into a relationship. Anakin was just as busy on the battlefields, traveling to distant systems, and ensuring that the Separatists did not win any more than they already had. However, he was still willing to put an effort into their relationship because he loved Padme more than life itself. Padme was Anakin’s first love, and they had already been through so much together. Didn’t that mean something? It was late one night when the couple retired to Padme’s apartment that she dropped the news. Anakin felt as if his whole world shattered. He begged on his knees to Padme, to give them another chance. She insisted it was for the best and that she would reach out to him in a few months when she felt ready. Anakin would be lying if he said a part of him was shocked. After all, Padme put her job as Senator above everything else. But still, it hurt knowing that the one person who he would abandon everything for, would not do the same for him.

Aside from the breakup, Anakin was tired of the constant fighting, the rising death toll, and the never-ending chaos that always seemed to follow him. The 501st Clone Battalion’s most recent war campaign was brutal, and they lost a few men to Trandoshan separatists while in battle at a small, Outer Rim planet. Anyone could see that Anakin thrived in war. He was nicknamed the “Hero With No Fear” for a reason. But, the death of his men, or any man under Republic forces, always left his heart and mind unsettled.

As Anakin reached the door to the Jedi Council, he quickly shook his head as if to ward away his dark thoughts. He really should meditate more. The door opened and Anakin was greeted with the sight of the Jedi Masters sitting in a circle, he noticed many of them appeared via holoprojectors.

“Hello masters,” Anakin said with a bow. He looked around until he met eyes with Obi-Wan, who happened to be off-planet at the moment. Obi-Wan gave Anakin an uneasy smile which blared the alarms in Anakin’s head. Anakin was already in a defensive mode due to his rocky relationship with the council.

It was Mace Windu who spoke first. “General Skywalker, we have called you here today to discuss an upcoming mission. It is to our understanding that you are currently on a break right now, however, you were specifically requested by the Chancellor for this task.” It must be an important mission if the Chancellor himself requested that Anakin carry it out.

“There will be an upcoming charity event hosted in honor of the Republic to raise funds for the war effort. The event is being held in Corulag in ten rotations from now. While Corulag is part of the Republic, there have been recent Separatist activities within the planet and its system,” Master Windu continued.

“And what will I need to do while in Corulag?” Anakin asked with a slight edge in his voice. He really didn’t want to travel off-world.

“You will be the personal escort and bodyguard to the charity’s main event, singer (Y/N) (L/N). She will be performing a show as part of the charity and her presence is estimated to bring in a lot of credits for the war effort. While we don’t personally believe there will be a threat on her life, the Chancellor suspects that the Separatists may try to infiltrate the singer as a way to ruin the charity’s efforts.”

Anakin felt his annoyance flare up again. He was being taken away from his well-deserved break time to babysit a singer? This was a job that even a Padawan could carry–Ahsoka could do it with her eyes closed.

Even through the holoprojector, Obi-Wan could see the tale tell signs of his former student’s growing anger. He pitied the boy. Obi-Wan felt that Anakin deserved his break, especially after his most recent mission. However, it was not up to Obi-Wan alone to make these decisions. With the war prolonging itself more than necessary and the expenses rising every day, the Republic needed as many credits as it could get from its supporters. Obi-Wan quickly piqued up from the side to calm his friend, “Anakin, the Chancellor personally requested you as the singer is a family friend of his, and he trusts you. The Council will discuss giving you vacation time after completing your mission.” As vexed as Anakin might have been at first, he certainly didn’t want to disappoint the Chancellor. He had no choice but to accept the mission. Anakin silently nodded to the council.

“Recieve more instructions tomorrow, you will. Rest for now,” said Yoda from his chair.

And with that, the meeting was over. Anakin said his goodbyes with a bow and walked out.

After Anakin left the meeting, he headed towards the Jedi Archives to conduct some research on his new mission. He wasn’t interested in who the singer was, or what she did. Rather, he wanted to know what kind of person she was–was she a controversial celebrity, or did she stay in the lines? Anakin prayed he wasn’t dealing with some crazy, entitled celebrity who did whatever she wanted. That would make his mission harder than it needed to be. He had heard of the singer’s name in passing from Ahsoka, who kept up with recent trends via the HoloNet. As a General and a Jedi Knight, Anakin no longer had the same sense of freedom that he had as a Padawan, even though he had much less freedom than his other Padawan counterparts. “Perks of being the Chosen One, I suppose,” Anakin bitterly whispered to himself.

Anakin filtered past the front desk of the Archives after giving Madame Jocasta a quick nod and small time. He wanted to be in and out so he could get food from the Temple’s cantina before retreating to his living quarters for the night.

“What do you mean they are assigning a Jedi Knight as my security detail?! I thought this was supposed to be a simple concert for a charity event, why are they assigning a Jedi if there is no imminent danger?!” you exclaimed to your manager, Gido Frisco, with a pointed look.

When you agreed to perform at this charity event, you did so because you wanted to help raise credits for the Republic. Your management discouraged you from having any outspoken opinions on politics as it could lead to alienation from fans and tabloid backlash. But after your home planet became a recent victim to Separatist forces, you could no longer idly sit by and continue living as if the war didn’t affect you. When the charity’s organizers approached you to do this event, you happily agreed because all the credits earned were going to a meaningful cause. To the Republic. To democracy.

The event was to consist of several performances by famous artists from throughout the Core Worlds, but you were the headlining event. Though you would humbly deny it, your popularity superseded everyone else set to perform. The media and your fans dubbed you “the Galaxy’s princess” due to your popularity as a singer across the Galactic Core. You hated that nickname. You were very far from a princess–you were just lucky enough to be born with an innate musical talent. Nonetheless, you were still treated as if you were royalty.

“Look, I’m going to be blunt with you. There has been Separatist activity in and around Corulag, but we don’t predict that it will directly affect you. Think of the Jedi as an extra security personnel. They won’t let anybody or anything hurt you,” explained Gido.

“Who is we?”

“We as in myself, and the Chancellor. He was quite worried for your safety when he heard of your acceptance to perform.” That made much more sense. The Chancellor, an old family friend of yours, often looked out for you throughout your years on Coruscant. You had no family on the planet as all your family lived on Bar’leth, only visiting you every few months. While you saw them as often as you could, the help and care they provided you was limited to messages on your holo tablet and calls via communicator. The Chancellor took it upon himself to help you whenever he could. You were extremely grateful for his help, but you couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the thought of having a Jedi accompany you. You knew Jedis were the peacekeepers of the galaxy. As the war started and worsened, the Jedi were thrust into a new, partial position. Where the Jedi went, trouble unfortunately followed. Would more trouble follow you if you were accompanied by a Jedi than if you were not? Only time would tell.

“Very well. And when will I meet this Jedi?”

“You will meet him tomorrow morning. Please do not stress the situation. We are merely taking precautions. Rest for tonight and we will talk more in the morning. Goodnight, princess.” And with that, Gido walked out of your apartment and you were left alone.

You walked outside and onto your balcony and observed the night sky. Your eyes followed the speeders flying through the air–a cacophony of honks and whizzes! reached your ears. You leaned upon the stone masonry of the balcony’s railing and rested your elbows on its surface. You then laid your cheek in your palm and closed your eyes as the lights of Corscuant reflected off your statue. You took into the slight breeze of the night and enjoyed this moment of serenity. Who knows what the next few rotations will bring? You could only hope you would suffer a nicer faith than your home planet. Your eyes opened, and you retreated into the lush interior of your apartment and began your nightly routine.

Holy kriff, this man is kriffing gorgeous! Those were the first words that popped into your head when you saw the Jedi knight walk into your living room. It was early in the morning. You thought he was only supposed to accompany you at the charity benefit, but your team thought it would be best if he accompanied you throughout the week as you prepared for the event and ran errands.

As he walked closer to you, you felt your mouth run dry and a creeping heating sensation sprouted from the base of your neck to your cheeks. You could only hope he didn’t feel the heat radiating off your body. He was wearing dark-colored robes, with a maroon long-sleeve undershirt, and only one leather glove on his right arm. Was this a fashion statement of some kind? Gido spoke up before you could say anything.

“Welcome, and thank you for being here Jedi. I can assure you that it means very much to us and I hope that you find yourself comfortable for the next few rotations. Our team will do its best to ensure you are properly accommodated. My name is Gido Frisco, and I am (Y/N)’s manager.” Gido reached out his hand for Anakin to shake. Anakin took his hand in a firm grip and replied.

“Thank you. My name is Anakin Skywalker, general of the 501st Legion. I will do my best to keep (Y/N) safe.”

Anakin. You had heard of him before–he was the Republic’s poster boy and a very successful leader. Though you knew of him, you had yet to put a face to the name until now. Instead of making eye contact with the man, you simply stared at the ground until Gido included you in the conversation.

“And this is (Y/N),” Gido said.

You then looked up at Anakin and made eye contact with the gorgeous man in front of you. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the color of his eyes. They were a dazzling shade of blue that was highlighted by the scar running down the right side of his forehead to underneath his eye.

There was an awkward moment of silence before you stuttered as you reintroduced your name to Anakin and shook his hand. Shit, he's strong, you thought as he shook your hand with a firm grasp. If there was one thing you were weak for, it was a strong man. A strong, beautiful man!

“Pleasure to meet you too. I’ll be at your service this week,” Anakin stated with a small smile. Kriff, even his voice was attractive! You could only stare at him and nod. You were truly at a loss for words. Wait, can he hear my thoughts right now? You thought to yourself. You heard the Jedi could use the Force to read minds, but you didn’t know if this was just a rumor. You hoped it was just a rumor or you'd find yourself burying yourself six feet under the ground out of embarrassment.

“Well, now that you two are acquainted, I’ll be taking Anakin so we can go over the security details. Stay here until then.” Gido then led Anakin out of the room and that was the last you saw of the Jedi until dinner time.

When Anakin woke up the next morning, he walked toward the Temple’s catina to grab a warm cup of caf and breakfast. The food was meager most days, but it beat having to live off the plain-tasting ration bars that he ate most of the time when he was on missions and campaigns. As Anakin walked through the tables to find a seat, he was greeted by the site of his former master sipping on a cup of tea and conversing with Ahsoka.

“Ahh, Anakin. Nice to see you this morning. I am terribly sorry that you have been called upon for another mission. I do believe that your rest was well-deserved, but unfortunately, I had no power over this decision,” Obi-Wan stated as he continued to sip on his tea.

“Thanks, Master. I can’t say I’m particularly excited about this, but hopefully, after this is done, I can properly enjoy my rest.”

“Master, you’re so lucky! I am so jealous of you right now. I wish I could join you, but Master Sinabu has requested that I assist him in a few lessons with the younglings,” Ashoka pipped in. “Hey, do you think you could get me an autograph?” She was excited. Ahsoka was no stranger to being in the company of high-profile people, but most of the time, it was limited to officials and members of the Senate. Boring! The thought of her master working with one of the most famous singers of this generation was honestly hilarious to her. A part of her wished it was her on this mission instead. The last time Anakin was on babysitting duty was when Ahsoka first joined Anakin as his Padawan was to rescue Jabba the Hutt’s son. Much like Anakin, Ahsoka believed this task could’ve been carried out by a Padawan, but as Obi-Wan explained to her, the Chancellor personally requested Anakin for this task.

“Snips, I’m there to protect, not get autographs. Try practicing your mediation skills, and maybe I’ll get you an autograph,” Anakin said with a small smirk on his face. Much like him in his Padawan days, Ahsoka found meditating tedious and boring. He honestly should meditate more to set a better example, but Anakin’s teaching method was more of “Do as I say, not as I do.”

“Oh come on Skyguy! You owe me this favor after I saved your butt back on Florrum. What would you have done if I wasn’t there to save you from all those assassin droids?” quipped Ashoka with a slight raise in her eyebrows. Damn, she got me there, thought Anakin to himself. But, he wasn’t going to let her have this win so easily. One might say that Anakin was acting immature for his age, but he and Ahsoka’s relationship thrived off witty remarks and friendly competition. Anakin’s relationship with Ahsoka was one of the most precious things in his life.

“Except I won our last sparring battle. That makes us even, no?” Ahsoka’s smile quickly dropped, and she glared at her master. Anakin took a sip of his caf and continued, “Only kidding, Snips. I’ll try to get you that autograph. I might be too busy trying to keep this singer out of trouble.”

Obi-Wan observed his former student and Ahsoka with fondness. “Do not worry, young one. You will beat Anakin one day. A student is only as good as their teacher, and you have a good teacher. I would know–I taught him,” Obi-Wan joked with the two. “Anakin, I hope this mission goes smoothly. I know how badly your last assignment went.” Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Though Anakin’s ego subsided since he lost his arm at the Battle of Geonosis, it didn’t mean he liked talking about his failures. The Separatists somehow acquired important Republic intel and managed to ruin Anakin’s battle strategy with a surprise attack. He and his men just barely made it out on time before a full Separatist takeover happened. Anakin’s appetite was ruined by the thought of it.

Suddenly, Anakin’s commlink beeped and he knew it was time to head out to the hangar and receive his instructions for the week. He said his farewells to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka before going to the hangar, where he was surprisingly greeted by the Chancellor. The older man smiled at Anakin and shook his hand.

“Anakin, my boy. I cannot express my gratitude to you for accepting this assignment. You see, I specifically asked for you because I knew that I could trust you with my dear family friend. I do hope that you take care of her well.”

“Of course, Chancellor. She will be safe under my watch.”

“Now, she shouldn’t give you any trouble. She is a well-mannered girl. However, I have just received secret Separatist intel and wanted to share it with you before I visit the council. According to the intel, Count Dooku has ordered intelligence to interfere with the benefit. Our report says that he is planning on hacking our broadcasting signal and threatening the talent for the whole galaxy to see. For what, I do not not know. While we do expect the benefit to raise many credits for the Republic, the show will also provide a boost in morale for the citizens of the Republic. I theorize that Count Dooku wishes to ruin the public’s perception of the Republic’s efficiency and control over the war and the talent are a way to do this,” explained Chancellor Palpatine.

Anakin furrowed his brows. “Seems like Count Dooku is running out of scare tactics. Chancellor, the Jedi will ensure that the benefit proceeds as expected and that no harm comes to anyone there.”

The Chancellor smiled at Anakin’s words. “Thank you, my boy. Now I mustn’t take any more of your time. I will let you go now. You will receive more information on the Separatist intel later on.”

Anakin and the Chancellor shook hands once more before Anakin boarded his ship and plugged in the coordinates provided to him by the council.

Anakin’s first impression of you was that you were pretty. A delicate kind of pretty that Anakin had only seen in one other person before, Padme. But as quickly as the thought entered his conscious, he pushed it toward the back of his mind. What was he even thinking? He chalked up to him missing Padme. Yeah…Anakin just missed Padme and now that he was in the same familiar situation that he was in a few years ago when he first met Padme, familiar feelings are rising. After all, this wasn’t the first time Anakin had been sent on bodyguard duty for a well-known beautiful public figure.

Your manager introduced himself to Anakin and then introduced you to him. Though he wasn’t excited about this mission, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit relieved that he would be staying in your luxurious apartment for the next few rotations until you traveled off-world. It wasn’t very often that the Jedi were afforded such accommodations. Anakin had spent his fair share of nights seeking refuge in strange, foreign biomes with only mere sticks and leaves as shelter. If he couldn’t sleep in the comfort of his private quarters at the Temple, he might as well enjoy the lavish high-rise Coruscanti apartment.

Despite Anakin’s initial impression of you, your reaction toward him was…intriguing. Based on his research last night, Anakin couldn’t anything on the HoloNet that painted you in a bad light. Sure, there were the occasional tabloid articles that made outrageous claims about you, but all of those were overridden by the amount of good publicity you got. Charismatic, friendly, confident, a sweetheart–these were all words used to describe you by the various media outlets. But the person standing in front of Anakin seemed everything but that.

Your nervous energy radiated off you and permeated Anakin’s senses through the force. You avoided eye contact with him until your manager forced you to properly look at Anakin and introduce yourself to him. You definitely didn’t seem as confident as the Holo Net made you out to be, but Anakin didn’t fault you for this. He’s sure you felt nervous in the presence of a Jedi because it implied that there was some danger lurking around. If there wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been assigned to his task. What did you know about the terrors of war and the cruel reality of death and destruction? You were just a rich celebrity located within the safe confines of the Galatic Core. Anakin felt a twinge of jealousy at this notion. He knew that he belonged with the Jedi, but Anakin couldn’t help but feel envy at the fact that you were simply an innocent civilian whose daily life was virtually unaffected by the war. You didn’t have to witness violent bloodshed, say goodbye to your comrades, and live life constantly on the move. Sometimes Anakin longed for his days on Tatooine when he lived with his mother and worked in Watto’s workshop. He was a poor slaveboy, but at least he had his mother, and life was relatively peaceful. Before Anakin could harp on these thoughts any longer, he caught a stray thought that didn’t belong to him.

Kriff, even his voice was attractive! Anakin was sure the thought didn’t belong to Gido, so he could only assume that it belonged to the woman standing in front of him. Anakin internally smirked to himself. Could it be that Anakin made you nervous for reasons other than him being a Jedi? Perhaps…you found Anakin attractive. Anakin didn’t care if you found him attractive, but it did boost his ego a bit. It seems his split from Padme was affecting him more than he thought. Since when did trivial things like this matter?

Anakin looked over you once more before following Gido to discuss the schedule and plan for the upcoming rotations.

Dinner was…awkward, to say the least. It was just you and Anakin eating in your dining room. Gido had some business he needed to attend to so he could not join you for dinner. Anakin insisted that he could eat somewhere else as he did not want to intrude, but you insisted that he eat with you. It was the polite thing to do. But after you insisted that Anakin sat with you, you realized that you had nothing to talk about. A singer and a Jedi Knight turned war general? What would you have in common? A pregnant silence enshrouded you both. Only the soft clinks of silverware could be heard.

You sipped on your water every few bites to calm your nerves. This was so unlike you! Honestly, you were never one to shy away from anyone’s presence. A part of your job was selling a likable persona to the public–countless interviews, media appearances, meet and greets! You had done these all with grace and a smile. Yet you couldn’t find the proper words to say to the gorgeous man sitting right across from you. Geez, he must think I’m one of those stuck-up celebrities, you chided in your head. You were far from stuck up, but something about Anakin set your nerves on fire and made the social part of your brain feel like mush. Sweat started building up in your armpits as you thought about it. You had to do something to salvage your reputation and stop yourself from sweating through your outfit.

You cleared your throat and looked up from your dinner plate. “So, Anakin. How do you know the Chancellor? I hear you’re friends with him.”

“I’ve known the Chancellor since I was a little boy. We first met when I left my home planet after I was discovered by a Jedi named Qui-Gon Jinn. He was Naboo’s representative back then.”

“Oh, that's interesting. My family goes way back with the Chancellor too. My father and him studied at the same university on Naboo. Though my father was a few grades below the Chancellor, they became good friends,” you replied.

Anakin nodded at your story before focusing his attention elsewhere. You internally deflated once you saw he did not seem to care about keeping a conversation. However, if you were going to spend the new few rotations together, you’d rather it not be more awkward than it already was.

“Uhm, where are you from? You mentioned that you left your home planet. I’m not from Coruscant either! I am from Bar’leth.”

“Tatooine,” Anakin answered curtly. The way Anakin said Tatooine almost made you think that he disliked his home planet. He didn’t say it with any fondness, or longing.

“That’s in the Outer Rim, right? I’ve never been. How is it?” you questioned.

“Hot, lawless, and sandy.” Another short answer.

You got the impression that Anakin wasn’t exactly fond of his home planet, so you decided to change the subject of conversation. “You travel a lot as a Jedi. Which has been your favorite planet so far?”

Anakin was silent for a moment before, as if he were thinking deeply about it. In reality, Anakin knew his favorite planet. Naboo. He only paused for a moment because he was unsure if he wanted to reveal this information to you. Though it was seemingly an innocent question (and it was), Anakin felt it was a vulnerable question. Naboo is the planet he spent days frolicking in the lush, romantic meadows with Padme, falling deeper in love with her as the days passed. Naboo represented a part of Anakin that no longer existed–an Anakin that didn’t know the pain of losing a mother, losing a part of himself in the process. When his mother died, gone became the young boy with a golden aura and eyes full of hope. On Naboo, Anakin was still bright and naive with a laughter full of joy and excitement. That Anakin died the day he and Padme set out to find his mother on Tatooine. Anakin wished every day to the Maker that part of him could come back from the dead and replace who he currently was. To better days.

“Naboo. That’s my favorite planet,” answered Anakin. He decided to be truthful instead of responding with a random planet. Anakin didn’t know what compelled him, but he knew you were only being polite.

“Naboo is beautiful. Though I mainly grew up in Bar’leth, I spent a lot of my childhood summers in Naboo. I don’t think there is any other planet with views as stunning as Naboo,” you revealed.

You felt that there was nothing else to say. The remainder of the dinner was quiet. Though there wasn’t as much tension as before, it was still awkward. You finished your dinner as quickly as possible before retreating to your personal quarters for the evening.

To be continued!

#kendra's works !!!#star wars #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #darth vader #darth vader x reader #hayden christensen #tcw anakin #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom #the clone wars

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archiveikemen · 5 months

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Jude Jazza 1st Birthday Campaign: Story (2023)

His POV

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Ellis: Jude, this is…

I had just returned to the castle after work when my assistant handed me a memo with an usually serious look on his face.

“Happy birthday, I have your woman with me.”

Jude: — Ah?

…

— A few hours ago.

Kate: Is it your birthday today?

Kate asked the moment she saw my face. Who knows where she got that information from.

(What a nuisance.)

Knowing what was going to happen, I ignored the question and left my seat.

I had just finished my breakfast, and it was time for me to leave for work.

Kate: I just happened to find out earlier on. Is there anything in particular that you need or want?

Jude: I don’t know, you can go ahead and sing a song or something. Oh, but do it when I’m not around.

Kate: Won’t that be meaningless?

Jude: Do I have to spell it out for you? I don’t need anything.

Kate had become significantly less wary of me, compared to when we first met. I dealt with her and put on my coat.

Kate: Are you going to work? It’s your birthday, after all.

Jude: Will it kill you to not keep asking questions day and night?

Victor: Oh? You’re working on your birthday again this year, Jude?

Victor: Make sure to come back in the evening this year. We’ll be waiting to throw a party for you.

Jude: More like a party for you. Last year and the year before, you threw a party even though I wasn't there.

Victor: Every year, I would wait for you to come back, until the day ended… *sniffle*

Roger: Let’s all get drunk and sing a loud “happy birthday” song in the garden.

Jude: Oi. Don’t put your arm over my shoulder, you quack.

Roger: I hope that this year’s party won’t be missing its main character.

(Tch… all the fucking annoying ones are gathered here since morning.)

Jude: I don’t have the culture of celebrating every little occasion. It’s sickening.

I brushed his arm off my shoulders and was about to finally leave the dining room.

Kate: Oh, Jude, is there anything you want…?

(Did I not say that I don’t need anything?)

Kate: I’ll really sing you a song later! Please don’t complain that it’s too ‘insignificant’!

Walking away from that persistent voice that carried a hint of resignation, I left the castle that morning.

…

(So this is the place.)

Instead of begging for their lives to be spared, those bastards who sent me that memo spat out all the information they had.

True enough, there Kate was— dolled up and lying unconscious at the altar, she appeared to have gotten herself ready for tonight’s ‘party’.

(... There’s this revolting feeling in my chest.)

The people who had taken Kate hostage seemed to have something against me.

It was either they were blaming me for their business going bankrupt, or it was just the usual petty grudges.

Kate only got implicated into this because of mine or Crown’s missions. It wasn’t the first time such a thing happened.

And yet, for some reason, I felt especially irritated this time.

(Crown forced a contract onto a woman who was coincidentally present at the scene of an assassination.)

(The Queen insisted that this woman go on our missions with us, despite knowing what dangerous situations she could possibly wind up in.)

(Even after having her life threatened on countless occasions, this woman still refuses to back down.)

(I myself have tested the sheer willpower and guts she had to keep following me around.)

— All of that disgusted me.

(Where’s the ‘happy’ in ‘happy birthday’?)

(Shit.)

Jude: … Oi, you pleb. Are you dead?

I spoke as I stood there, staring down at Kate.

With a groan, Kate stirred and turned to lay on her back.

The hair covering her face spilled onto the floor — revealing her swollen cheek and bloodied lips.

(...)

Something in the core of my mind turned cold.

Kate: … Jude…?

Jude: … What with that hideous appearance? This isn’t funny at all.

Kate: I’m… I’m sorry. I wanted to get you a birthday present, and when I went out to town after seeking permission…

Jude: Screw your apology and how you got captured. I’m asking how you got your face injured.

Kate: They threatened me for information about you, and when I refused to disclose any—

Jude: You could’ve just made some shit up about me.

Kate: I… I can’t do that. You’re always coming to my rescue before I get hurt. I can’t put you in danger because of me.

The response that was so typical of her only made me even more fed up.

(Ah… this woman is hopeless.)

(If I let her keep this up, she will really end up dead one day.)

In the first place, she was only in danger because of the selfish contract Crown forced onto her.

While I had the right to give Kate a piece of my mind, there wasn’t a need for her to feel any obligation towards me.

(I failed to see that.)

She was thick-skinned enough to still spout those pretty words at me, had a strong heart that became enraged upon being looked down on, and was stubborn enough to stand her ground even after being hurt.

I was self-aware that I didn’t hate those traits of hers.

(But… no one can laugh when their birthday present is the dead body of a woman who was innocently dragged into a mess she didn’t create, even as a prank.)

Jude: You seem to have quite a lot of trust in me, however—

Kate: … ggh?

Kate’s body stiffened when I placed my hand on her neck.

Jude: Do you seriously believe that I won’t ever let anyone kill you, or that I’ll always protect you no matter what?

Kate: ugh… haa…

(Oh, you poor thing.)

(You think that you can finally be at ease after being so terrified just now, huh?)

(But you’re wrong. Shall I teach you a little lesson?)

Jude: You haven’t experienced being strangled to the point of losing consciousness, have you?

Jude: I can make that happen, all I have to do is tighten my grip on your throat for about one minute.

I slowly tightened my grip, putting pressure on her pulsating carotid artery.

Kate: ahh… ugh…!

I pinned her struggling body to the floor of the altar.

Light shined in through the stained glass windows onto her hair and skin, making the scene look almost comical.

Jude: You never expected yourself to be strangled by the ally who just rescued you, did you?

Jude: But killing an ally who’s being an eyesore in the heat of the moment is so cliché.

Jude: You’re just a pleb who knows nothing, and yet you tried to go against those low-lifes with that stupid sense of duty of yours.

Jude: You’re a hundred years too early to do that.

Kate: —!

I felt a slight pain in the back of my hand and looked down to see Kate digging her nails into it.

Jude: Hah, look at you trying to fight back. You make me laugh. Even a little kitten can be stronger than you.

Kate: …!

(... What’s with that look?)

Despite the clear difference in strength between the two of us, the resilient look in her eyes never faded.

She was glaring straight at me, as if urging me for something.

Jude: … At this juncture, what is it that you want to say?

I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of things she would say—

The moment I loosened my grip, Kate forcefully shook my hand off.

Kate: Huff… huff…

Jude: … I’m not asking you to start huffing and puffing. I’m asking what you were glaring at me for.

Jude: I’ll go on if you can’t answer.

Kate: I… I…

Kate glared at me with tears in her eyes while desperately trying to catch her breath.

Kate: I’ve experienced horrible things like today’s incident many times, I’ve also witnessed multiple cruel acts; and every time, I would see you enjoying yourself…

Kate: I know very well that you’re a sadist with sick and twisted interests, a villain who finds joy in hearing the screams of other people.

Jude: You don’t say?

Kate: But I believe that deep down, you’re not heartless…

Kate: You may threaten and torment me like this often, and yet when you see that I’m about to die, you do whatever you can to save me.

Jude: You fantasise about me too much.

Kate: Then why do you always look upset whenever I go on missions with you?

Jude: Because you get in my way.

Kate: What are you trying to accomplish by ridiculing me for being soft-hearted?

Jude: That you're so happy-go-lucky that it's an eyesore and a hindrance.

Kate: ... Really?

Despite my harsh words, her eyes remained focused on me.

Kate: ... You show no mercy to people who are arrogant and take human lives lightly.

Kate: ... But looking at it from a different perspective, you save those who have been tyrannised by them.

Jude: The main point is that I enjoy tormenting those bastards. I couldn't care less about who gets saved.

Kate: Whatever your reason may be, doesn't the result remain the same? And that's why I trust you.

Jude: ... Hah, what are you talking about? Sounds stupid as hell.

Kate: But at the same time, I also get that you're not helping me because I value my life.

Kate: That's why, like what you said earlier…

Kate: I don't think that you'll 'always protect me no matter what'.

Her voice trembled with a tinge of loneliness for a moment.

Even Kate herself seemed to be surprised by what she just said and her eyes shifted.

She lifted her head, trying to cover it up.

Kate: What I want to say is that...

Kate: Even if I'll end up being strangled until I lose consciousness, it won't change the way I choose to act.

Kate: If I do get myself captured and threatened again, I won't say a single thing that would put you at a disadvantage.

Kate: That's all I have to say. If you want to go on with what you were doing... be my guest, do as you please.

(A person's life can be so fragile.)

(Trust is useless when you're faced with evil and murderous intentions.)

Some things can't be prevented, no matter how hard you try.

(That fact is more than clear to me.)

But even so, why was I dazzled by her unwavering determination to keep her trust?

Jude: ... I can do as I please?

Kate: ...!

Her shoulders shuddered when I placed my hand on her neck—

Jude: Pfft.

Kate: ...?

(Putting on a brave front when you're actually feeling afraid. Truly idiotic.)

I withdrew my hand from her neck.

Jude: Just as you said, that was a threat.

Jude: However... it's not hard to snap your neck off. Besides, the kind of people I deal with won't be so kind as to hesitate and warn you.

Jude: If you're aware that I'm keeping you at a distance on purpose, then you should know what to do if you're smart enough.

Kate: I thought of avoiding getting myself involved, but…

Jude: But?

Kate: That thinking changed after I noticed various things every time we complete a mission or run away from trouble together.

Kate: And I don't hate that change in myself.

(...)

Kate: Although being captured this time was entirely unintentional... look, I managed to snatch the identification document of the person who captured me.

Kate: If it was you they were after, then they must belong to some sort of organisation, right?

Kate: The ones who captured me were likely someone's subordinates... so perhaps this might serve as a lead to the mastermind behind this.

(... Geez.)

(This girl is truly a bold princess.)

Jude: Don't get too proud of yourself over such a tiny thing. You're like a dog playing fetch.

I took the ID and helped Kate up.

She then exclaimed, as if she suddenly recalled something.

Kate: Oh, right! There's something very important that I forgot to tell you.

Jude: Ah?

Kate: The day isn't over yet, right...?

Kate: Although I didn't manage to get you a present in the end... happy birthday, Jude.

Jude: …

The innocent and pure blessing fell onto my heart with a thud.

(You went through all that, and yet you can still bring yourself to say something so optimistic.)

(Aren't you going to say things like it's all your fault, or that you're no longer in the mood to celebrate?)

All sorts of insults came into my mind, but none of them came out of my mouth.

Nevertheless, the blessing remained warm in my heart, the same way she gave it to me.

Kate: A birthday song is all I can give you... but you don't need that.

Jude: ...

I detested the 'happy birthday' song.

It brought back memories of a dusty attic that reeked of mould and alcohol; I recalled the hoarse voices of 2 people who kept singing while coughing violently, disregarding my protests.

7 years had passed since then, my vengeance should've been long gone.

Yet every time I recalled that raspy voice singing the 'happy birthday' song, the hatred ingrained in me craved to hear the screams of its prey.

But, right now—

Jude: Fine, you can sing. I'm listening.

Kate: Eh? But... you said that you don't have the culture of celebrating every small occasion.

Jude: I changed my mind. I still don't care about the others, though.

Jude: Just yours is enough.

Kate: ... Huh?

Kate's eyes widened for a moment before her cheeks turned bright red.

Kate: H-Huh...?

Jude: ... Heh, what are you blushing about? You simple minded woman.

Kate: Wha... d-did you just tease me again!?

Jude: Who knows? It's obvious that you're very fond of me, though.

Kate: WHAT!? I am not...!

Jude: Yeah, yeah. So, are you going to sing or not?

Kate: ...!!

After being at a loss for words for a brief moment, Kate started to sing.

Her voice was too soft to echo through the church, but it lingered in my ears longer than any other blessing I had ever received.

Birthday Letter

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