#Halloween pink press on nails | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carolmunson · 7 months

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you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down.

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery.

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.”

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later.

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head.

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere.

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.”

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?”

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?”

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.”

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?”

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?”

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow.

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on.

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you.

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch.

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before.

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears.

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough.

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.”

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.”

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.”

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.”

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly.

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.”

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.”

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death.

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.”

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily.

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.”

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.”

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.”

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper.

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge.

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.”

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.”

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat.

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.”

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes.

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story.

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you.

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…”

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #kas!eddie #kas!eddie munson #vampire!eddie munson #vampire!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #tw: dubcon #tw: dub-con #dark!eddie #dark!eddie munson

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loveshotzz · 8 months

Note

Hi Leighanne 🩷 can I please request on the balcony in early morning, where neighbors might see, but no one will likely look. with Colours Steve please? 👀

So fuckin excited to revisit the Foxy Lounge for Halloween!

Hi baby 💗 thank you for your request, I know how much you guys love colors!steve and how much I always avoid him 😂 so here is my gift to you for always being so sweet.

A/N: This blurb comes from my series Colors, you can read this as a stand alone if you want. Steve is in his 40’s and you’re in your 20’s and his daughters (her name is Jenny) best friend from college. For those that read the series, this takes place right after chapter three. enjoy 💗

WC: 1k

Warnings:18+ age gap (Steve is in his 40’s, R is in her 20’s) Best friends dad (affectionally known as colors!steve) semi public smut, dirty talk, cream pie all the time.

Older!bestfriendsdad!steve x fem!reader

You knew what you wanted saying yes to Jenny when she invited you on an impromptu trip to visit her Dad for a long weekend. Just like you knew what you wanted when you found yourself at his bedroom door at 4am despite calling it quits after New Year’s Eve, you just didn’t know he would give it to you.

The dark violet sky starts to burst with hues of oranges and pinks, the golden sun breaking through the last bit of night that has warm rays shine against already heated skin. The grip you have on the railing of his balcony is just as hard as Steve’s grip on your hips. Sleep shorts forgotten down by your ankles along with your oversized shirt. His gray sweatpants are pushed halfway down his hairy thighs, while the pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises you’ll have to lie to Jenny about later.

The blunt ends of his nails dig crescent moons with each desperate roll of his hips, the sound of your slick growing loud enough to have you scared of waking her up with her bedroom window not that far from his on the second floor. The silver chain he wears runs cool up the dip of your back when he leans forward, pushing himself even deeper, trailing open mouth kisses wherever he can reach, your eyes rolling back when he hits the spot that makes you flutter around him.

“God, this pussy.” He groans, teeth nipping at your spine, the auburn and salt scruff that covers his jaw rubbing rough against you. “Always so tight honey, fuck - perfect.”

His words come out around huffed breaths, muttering against your sweat slick skin while his thrusts get slower - deeper, relishing in the feel of your silk wrapped around him like a vice grip, like you were close. He’d already pulled two out of you, one in his bed when his fingers curled just the right way to make you see white and another one with his face buried between your thighs when you came outside for a smoke break.

You were supposed to go back to your room before Jenny woke up.

He pulls himself all the way out, smirking when you whine a little, your own hips pushing back to try and chase him. His cock twitches in his hand when he sees the mess he’s made of you, how your walls seem to seem to beg for him with his fat tip pressed against your entrance.

“Yeah?” He chuckles darkly, watching how you drip more for him.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, one rock of his hips burying himself all the way to the hilt of you again, the stretch burns making your jaw go slack. Big hands swallow yours around the railing, fingers intertwining as he folds himself over so the dark curls on his chest are pressed wet with sweat against your back. His thrusts become more controlled like this, shorter, more precise. The sweetness of your arousal still lingers hot on his breath that huffs against your neck, you feel surrounded by him like this.

“Couldn’t stay away could you? Those college boys don’t feel like this do they, baby? She missed me huh?”

Words get lost on your tongue when the tip of him reaches the place inside of you only he can find over and over again. All you can manage is a shake of your head, eyes screwing shut and knuckles flexing against his palms when you grip the metal bar harder. His hips stutter when he feels your cunt do the same.

“Steve - please.” You sound wrecked when you plead with him, while the tension building deep in your gut starts to come to a head, the beginnings of your third orgasm making itself known.

“Shit - I know, I know.” He hisses releasing one of your hands so the pads of his fingers can find your clit, the sun getting higher up in the sky is a reminder of the time, “gonna take care of her all weekend, fuckin’ dream about you and this pussy all the time. Missed it so much.”

His words and the circles eight’s his index and middle finger rub against your bundles of nerves rips a moan that borders the edge of too loud from your chest, making you both freeze for a second. The heavy length of him twitches deep inside of you and it has you grind your hips despite the consequences. His head drops, eyebrows marrying in the middle when you squeeze around him with purpose, a loose strand of hair falling against his forehead when he nods, meeting your movements with fingers that become determined.

“Need you to fall apart for me, we don’t have much time.” He whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “let me get another one, come on pretty girl.”

His hips circle, hitting angles he wasn’t before overwhelming you, becoming too much. He thrusts hard enough to have you on your tippy toes, getting you to do exactly what he wants. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down to try and stay quiet and you’re scared it’s going to draw blood, walls spasming around him so much that the intensity of your orgasm rings in your ears.

You squeeze his length like you’re trying to push him out, but it only makes him bury his cock deeper fighting against the velvet of your walls. It doesn’t take much to have him follow your lead, hot ropes spilling out of him warming your insides when he comes. The grip he still has on your hand turns his knuckles white as he dips his head into the crook of your neck, letting his moans come out muffled against your soft skin.

The stubble on his jaw threatens to rub you raw while his jaw tightens trying to calm himself down, while you flutter relentlessly around him in your aftershocks. He holds you to him, both of your chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. The birds chirping outside are loud enough to tell you it’s fully morning now, and you hear the sounds of Jenny’s bedroom door open and shut. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest until you hear her shuffle to the bathroom leaving you just enough time to sneak out.

“Come to my room earlier tonight, honey.” Steve finally whispers, smirking against your neck.

#my writing #colors series #leighanne practices smut blurbs #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot

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harry-styles-obsessed · 26 days

Text

Request: can you please write something cute with Harry and like 7 year old daughter please!! + y/n?! Ty!!!

Warning!! Cuteness overload! A/N I have NO idea what I was writing about but I guess I hope this is okay!

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

You had, had an overly busy day and finally you were able to head home. Today was Halloween and the kids were already out causing a nightmare. Sure Halloween was fun but still you didn’t like working during it. Here you were unlocking the front door, looking forward to see your husband and, daughter Florence. As soon as you had opened the door you were hit by a strong smell of… something. Your nose crinkled slightly in disgust before you shut the door quietly. As you made your way closer and closer to the living room the smell got more and more potent before eventually you had stopped outside of the door seeing Harry sat on the floor, talking sweetly to Florence, whom was jumping up and down with a nail varnish pot that had a piece of paper wrapped around it which said ‘pleasing’ clearly the little girl wanted to paint her daddy’s nails with his own brand of varnish but that stuff was expensive so he had to get around it somehow.

“Is someone learning to be a makeup artist?” You spoke up, Florence looking at you with a massive grin as she nodded Harry looking to you with a small smile “let’s show mummy yeah?” Florence nodded excitedly grabbing onto Harry’s wrist and lifting it up to show you the… art.. she had created on his hands. The paint was all over his fingers practically, going way past his nails, some of the nail varnish even covering his tattoos. You let out a small laugh “oh wow that’s beautiful.” You smiled looking at Harry who was still remaining a good sport. “Flo has used many different colours. Haven’t you sweetheart.. tell mummy.” He spoke, the little girl looking at you with excitement “yes! Daddy loves blue so I did blue!! Pink!! Black and…” she looked at Harry who looked at her with such a loving look “white.” He spoke, Florence nodding excitedly “that’s beautiful..” you spoke before you walked over to Harry and pressed a kiss to his lips “I’m going to clean up.. have fun…” you giggled out, Florence scrunching her face up as she whined out a “ewww” making both you and Harry laugh.

As you went upstairs Florence went back to decorating his nails “daddy can I do your nails for your concerts?” She asked excitedly and he chuckled nodding his head “sure.” He spoke watching as she burst with excitement again, nearly sending the nail varnish everywhere if it wasn’t for Harry’s quick movements his large hand surrounding her smaller one “hey… no throwing.” He watched her continue to bounce up and down, not listening to him, in her own world “hey… hey… Flo..” he tried to grab her attention but still she wasn’t focusing “Florence.” He spoke more clearly and she paused looking at him “listening ears on, yeah?” She nodded slowly giving him the nail varnish and leaning into him holding onto him tightly

“Daddy” she spoke softly and he hummed “can you dress as Peter Pan and I go as Wendy?” Harry let out a small laugh, last year he was a princess with her, the other year he was the beast and this year… well… he was now Peter Pan. Clearly. “Of course darling. Anything you want.” She smiled excitedly and kissed his cheek over and over again excitedly “can you paint my nails too?!” Harry nodded and happily did as she wanted, painting her nails oh so delicately, holding her small hands in his palm and carefully stroking the brush over her nails slowly and gently and eventually he had completed on doing her nails, constantly having to keep her hands out of her mouth and keeping her wrists down but explaining “toxic” things to a seven year old wasn’t exactly easy.

eventually nighttime had come and you and Harry had come up with outfits for him and Florence. Here you were laughing and taking pictures of Harry who was still being a good sport but did not look comfortable whatsoever. Florence looked pretty in her dress and Harry was wearing tight green trousers, a green T-shirt that had holes in it and a random cap but the effort was what mattered. You laughed continuously to the point you were certain you were going to pee yourself and eventually he had taken Florence’s hand and they were both going trick or treating. You loved that man so much.

The evening passed by slowly and eventually the two were back and Florence was eating her dinner, Harry stood by you his arm wrapped around your waist

“Trick or treat…” he teased you still wearing the tight outfit. “Trick…” you hummed out and he smirked before leaning in and kissing you deeply but gently all at once.. oh how you adored him.

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cranberrymoons · 6 months

Text

show me

prompt: mummy (SORRY LMAO this was supposed to be a cute little halloween prompt 💀) tags: rated e (18+) mommy kink, kink discovery, praise kink

cw mommy kink

It’s late one night, and Eddie’s had a really long fucking week, and maybe that’s why it happens when it does?

Because he’s so tired he can’t think straight, and he’s fucking Steve on his back, deep and slow and sleepy with Steve’s knees hitched up around his waist. Their foreheads are pressed together and their fingers are tangled on the pillow over Steve’s head, blunt nails digging into the backs of his hands.

And Steve’s taking it so, so well, whining into his mouth and arching up against him, cheeks flushed all pink and pretty, and Eddie’s eyes fall shut because he’s so fucking beautiful that it honestly hurts��sometimes just to look at him like this, and that’s when it just – slips out.

“Mommy.”

He doesn’t mean to say it; he’s not even sure where it comes from. He didn’t even realize it was something he was into, Jesus, but apparently he is.

And apparently Steve is, too, because he sucks in a sharp gasp, and his grip on Eddie’s hands becomes crushing as his whole body pulses around his cock, making Eddie nearly go cross-eyed with the pressure and the sudden tightness.

“Fuck,” Eddie says faintly. “Jesus Christ.”

“Again,” Steve says. He cranes up toward Eddie, teeth latching onto his jaw, hot and urgent as he mumbles, “Come on, say it again.”

And Eddie’s never been one to shy away from a weird sex thing, and if they’re both into it – if it’s going to make Steve do that again – then fuck it, sure, why not.

“Yeah?” he asks, hips angling back to press into him, faster than before. “You like being good for me, Mommy?”

Steve lets out a little whining sound that makes Eddie’s whole body thrum like an overtuned guitar string. He squeezes Eddie’s hands so hard his fingers go a little numb with it, and Eddie fucks into him harder, making the bed squeak under them.

“Yeah, want –” Steve groans, neck arching back, long and tanned and just begging for Eddie to mark him up. “Please.”

“Such a good Mommy,” Eddie says again. He draws one of Steve’s hands down his chest and over his side, fingers still tangled as he shifts to wrap both their hands around Steve’s cock. “So fucking pretty, baby. So pretty when you come.”

“Yeah,” Steve gasps, then he picks it up like a chant, body twisting up under Eddie as Eddie moves their joined hands over him faster. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Come on, Mommy,” Eddie says, voice low and close to his ear, thrusting into him again, honestly not sure how much longer he’s going to last if Steve keeps moving around like that. “Come for me. Show me how pretty you are.”

And Steve makes a cut-off sound, gasping into the hot, close air between them, sweat-sticky skin sliding together as he comes, spurting out over their hands.

Eddie works him through it, draws it out until Steve is whining and mewling and shivering as his grip on Eddie’s hand goes slack, and then Eddie lets him go, wraps both hands around his hips tight enough to bruise, fucks into him hard and fast and chasing his own release, and Steve just lets him, just goes with it, loose and glassy-eyed and pliant under his hands.

When he comes, it hits him so hard he cries out with it, buried deep inside, twitching and shaking before collapsing, exhausted, on top. Steve’s hands run over his back and through his hair and along his jaw as he mouths at his neck and his shoulder and the corner of his lips, wherever he can reach as they both come down.

Eddie pulls out once he’s caught his breath, feels the shift of his come inside Steve, warm and hot and slick, and he rolls off, chest still rising and falling as he rolls off him onto his back. After a moment, he turns his head on the pillow to get a look at him and finds Steve staring back at him, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked, and Eddie lets out a breathless little laugh.

“Fucking hell." He holds out an arm to make space for Steve to curl up against his side. “Was that hot, or was it just weird?”

And this makes Steve laugh too, burying his face into Eddie’s chest, one leg slung up and over so they’re tangled together with the sheets.

“Both,” he says after a moment. He presses a kiss to Eddie’s ribs, scraping his teeth there. “Definitely both.”

[also on ao3]

#stwgdailyprompt #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #my fic #discord drabble #kinktober 2023

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luvrxbunny · 8 months

Text

loveseat

Pairing: Vampire!Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: It’s Halloween! You go as a vampire and Eddie loves your fangs.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, blood, blood consumption, vampires, biting, non-consensual voyeurism (?) (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 4.5k

A/N: Reader’s shorts aren’t timeline-appropriate but idc. also I’ve never seen Ferris Bueller idk if there actually is any suspense . this might just be an nonsensical ramble

This year for Halloween Steve threw a party, you all almost died and were now focused on living life to the fullest as long as you could. Which means indulging in simple pleasures like house parties. You had to convince Eddie to come, he didn’t feel like celebrating. It’s been less than a year and he was back sure, but he didn’t survive. He’s a little different now, he needs different things but he’s still Eddie. You tell him all this and more to explain why he should come. You manage to coax him to the party and he ends up having a blast. You both dressed up, Eddie is a wizard and you decided to be a vampire. You think it’s hilarious but Eddie is still on the fence. He’s a little insecure about it, the fact that he’s different. You’re trying to show and convince him that it’s really not a big deal.

This party had gotten a little out of hand, some random people trickling in, not even knowing who the host was, only seeking alcohol and a good time but it still resulted in a fun night for everyone. You never have very much fun at parties, you’re a little too anti-social to enjoy being packed in a room with sweaty strangers. You always go to Steve’s parties though, to support him but also because the little after-party you all have is your favorite part of the night.

You guys are in Steve’s basement watching Ferris Bueller and passing around two of Eddie’s joints. The boys are sitting on the two loveseats on either end of the main couch, Nancy in her cat costume is on Steve’s end, you’re on Eddie's end and Robin in her dog costume is in the middle. None of you are paying attention to the movie, you’ve all seen it before.

There’s a natural split that happens as the night moves on. Robin, Steve, and Nancy are having one conversation, rotating one of Eddie’s joints among the three of them. You have the other, you're lying down with your head tilted back over the armrest, talking to Eddie. He’s leaning over you and smiling as you speak, his hair creating a curtain over you, tickling your neck. He’s talking and joking with you as you blow smoke into his face. He looks up to see if anyone notices your giggle, higher than usual, making his heart speed up but he’s met with Robin’s back, forcing a scoff from his lips. You look up and see what he’s staring at, you giggle and shake your head at him. “They really just took the joint, huh?”

His eyes widen with his smile as he laughs out, “They really did!” You’re both laughing as Eddie leans down to kiss you but the angle is awkward and it has you laughing against his chin. “Just come over here, baby” He whispers against your lips softly before backing away to give you room. You look over at your friends and see them still engrossed in their own conversation, they definitely won’t mind if you move. You slowly stand and make your way to Eddie.

Eddie watches you walk over, you look incredible. His old Hellfire shirt falls over your thighs, covering the shorts you’re wearing, the way your fingers come around the joint, and your painted nails complimenting the white paper. He smiles at your pink socks as they pad across the carpet. He’s excessively aware of the way your body presses to him when you place yourself half in his lap. Your thighs rest on top of his but your butt is on the couch, you’re leaning into him resting your head on his shoulder, inhaling and sighing out. “You always smell so good, Eddie.”

You pull your head out of his neck and snort at his outfit before taking a hit. He is grinning widely at you, his eyes wide in shock, “You did not just laugh at me.” This just makes you giggle more, slightly choking on the smoke. “I rolled for you! For free, baby!” You laugh at him and fall into his chest, feeling it inflate with his slow chuckles. “I can’t believe this.” He says with fake shock in his voice and on his face.

You sit up and peck kisses all over his face, small laughs slipping through as you press your lips against him. “I pay you in kisses, Eddie! And my love.” You drape your arms over his shoulders and drop your body weight into him, being careful not to burn anything with your joint. He chuckles and wraps his arms around you, struggling with his cape a bit first. You feel his body slowly relax into yours, bringing a smile to your face. You kiss the side of his head quickly before reaching your other hand behind his neck, trying to get the joint to your lips. Eddie can feel your arm moving, almost placing him in a headlock, and starts wiggling his way out of your grip. He notices the joint and gasps dramatically, “You only love me for joints!” You burst into laughter again.

You and Eddie joke a bit more, eventually getting sucked back into the movie. Actually, Eddie isn’t interested in the film but you’re absolutely absorbed by it, as if it were the most riveting thing you’d ever seen. He knows it’s because you’re high but it humors him nonetheless. You’re jumping in time with the suspense and it has him holding back a giggle. You feel his chest bounce and look up at him. You realize that he’s laughing at you and readjust yourself, no longer resting on his chest, you sit up so your head is level with his. “You’re supposed to be watching the movie, Eddie.” You say his name with an accusatory tone that reminds him of grade school hall monitors. It makes his heart swell.

He swallows a laugh before answering you, “I am, baby!” You watch him turn his head and pretend to watch the movie, glancing over at you every once in a while to see if you were still looking, you always were. Until he stopped checking, you assumed he actually got interested in the movie. You try to go back to watching the movie but your mind keeps wandering back to Eddie, along with your eyes. You now understand the appeal of just watching your lover.

You stare at Eddie as he watches the movie. Your eyes are wandering down his face now, watching the way his big brown eyes flit across the screen to take in the scene, the way his mouth mutters little thoughts without him even realizing. You take in his strong jawline and the plush of his lips, how pink they are, and his tongue as it licks over them. You watch his face split into a smile that has you grinning along, not even knowing what he’s smiling at. You watch his dimple make an appearance with his shiny white teeth… his teeth. You examine them for the entire duration of his smile, wondering about his fangs. You’ve only seen them once, on accident.

A few days after the incident, Eddie had seemed… off. He’d been staying with you because you were too worried to let him go home on his own. The love of your life had almost died, you weren’t about to let him out of your sight anytime soon. He had gone to shower, he announced it with a quiet mumble and left. You let him, even though you had wished you could accompany him just to make sure he was safe. You tried to keep your paranoia at bay but after twenty minutes you decided to check on him. You paused the TV and his quiet whimpering groans immediately became audible to you. You felt as though you were having a heart attack as you rushed over to the bathroom.

“Eddie?!” You can hear him groan at your voice and clear his throat before answering. “Baby, I’m fine. Go back to the couch.”

In the bathroom, Eddie was getting upset with you. He had felt weird ever since he got back, not being able to eat, the sun hurt his eyes, and water had begun to have zero appeal to him. He was sitting on the couch with you when he felt a shooting pain in his mouth, sending him to the bathroom to check it out. His heart stopped when he saw the fangs, he tried pulling them out, pushing them back in but nothing was working. He tried sticking his nail underneath his gums, attempting to root the teeth out but nothing worked, he kept trying until his gums were bleeding, tears springing to his eyes. That’s when you started knocking.

You ignore him and attempt to open the door to find it locked. This just scared you even more, Eddie never locks your doors. Images of him in the Upside Down flashed through your mind as you struggled with the door, tears welling in your eyes as you panicked. “Eddie, please open the door!” Your voice was watery and shaking as you yelled at him, your heart was racing, working up to a panic attack as you started banging on the door. “Please!”

You started screaming at him, tears streaming down your face as you choked on your sobs, unable to get the image of his pale, motionless, bloody body out of your mind. You were starting to get hysterical when he opened the door with his mouth in a tight scowl and anger flaring in his eyes, at you. It broke your heart. Your breathing stopped, frozen with the rest of your body as you waited for him to say something, his features softened as he took in your unsettled state. He whipped himself back around and mumbled to you, “Go back to the couch.” It broke you even more. You remember thinking that Eddie was “Flayed”, you never witnessed it but you’ve heard the kids and Steve talking about it and it was the only solution you had for his sudden behavior change.

You walked towards him slowly, wiping your tears and sniffing. You placed your hand on his shoulder and he had flinched, you ripped your hand away and started questioning him. You asked him what you did, what he was doing, how you could help but he gave no response. You just stood there dumbly behind him, in silence waiting for an answer to any of your questions. After what felt like months of silence you circled Eddie, moving to his other side so you could see his face, you wanted to know how he was feeling, how he was reacting to your questions.

Instead, you were met with his tears, silently streaming down his face, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold it all in. You questioned him on why he was crying, lightly placing a hand on his arm to see how he’d react and he flinches from you again before finally speaking. “Something is wrong… with me.” You’re watching Eddie as he speaks and you can see his fangs peaking out, your brows furrow in confusion before you can control your reaction. Eddie turns around again and continues talking. He explained how he didn’t feel ‘right’, he told you his symptoms, and theories and rambled on about how he thinks he should get himself tested, maybe get away for a bit to make sure he’s okay and safe. Leaving you behind in Hawkins.

You grabbed him and forced him to turn around, he was mid-sentence and you could see them. You deliberately left your hand on him, letting him know you weren’t scared as you stepped closer to examine them, he was frozen in fear. His mind was racing with how he thought you would react but you just kissed him. So softly, he didn’t reciprocate at first and you pulled back, and smiled at him with a shaking head before pulling him in again. He kissed you back so desperately that time, so grateful that you still loved him. You both figured out his new body together, you helped him be okay with feeding on people, you’ve gotten him to feed off you twice but you're trying to get him to feed on you regularly. He firmly denies and disagrees with the idea.

Back in the present you’re still just staring at Eddie’s mouth thinking about how it would feel to have his fangs sink into your neck. Upon the thought, your eyes wander down to his neck. You watch it tense and un-tense with the suspense of the movie. You’re high and you’ve got biting on the brain. You also so happen to be wearing the perfect costume for it. You lean in slowly, your heart racing as if you were going to puncture his skin. You begin to dampen your panties as you open your mouth. You feel the pressure of his skin on the fangs and hear a small gasp from him before you bite down.

A moan rips out of his lips before he can stop it. The room goes silent at the sound and Eddie tries to play it off as a cough and pretends he can’t feel everyone staring at him. He continues to stare at the movie like nothing happened as you play his sound over and over in your head.

Robin, Nancy, and Steve end up laughing it off and going back to their previous conversation. You watch Eddie closely, his eyes are still on the TV and a smirk is slowly growing on your lips. Once he’s sure they’ve moved on to a new topic he slowly turns his head to look at you. His jaw is clenched, his eyes are wild and his chest is heaving. You watch his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows nervously before speaking.

“Don’t do that.” His voice is stern, he sounds like he might actually mean it. You’d believe him if he wasn't already growing hard under your legs. He thinks you can’t feel it, him twitching and growing against you but you most definitely can. You giggle and bite your lip playfully before answering him.

“Why not?” His face twitches for a moment at your defiance, Eddie knew you had some fight in you, despite your sweet exterior. It’s one of the things he loves about you. He’s never had it directed at him though. He’s surprised, not really angry but very amused. You’re biting your lip again, with the fake teeth, the fangs, this time. It has him running hot, his breathing speeding up and shuddering as he tries to keep himself under control. You watch his jaw twitch and it has a smile spreading over your face again, his mouth mirroring the shape of yours.

Eddie leans towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in so he can push into your lips. You kiss him back eagerly as you reposition yourself, spreading your legs for him. Eddie can feel the change and groans against your lips in response. “They’re gonna notice us, baby.”

He doesn’t mean it, there isn’t any real concern in his voice as he whispers in your ear. He kisses you one more time before moving to the corner of your mouth, down to your chin, and then over your neck. Your hands bury themselves in his hair, pulling him close and gripping it at the roots as you try and hold in your whimpers. “You’re right.”

Your voice is high and desperate as you speak. You can feel a smirk spread against your skin at your voice but Eddie keeps kissing. You feel him shift his hips, pressing his hard cock perfectly to your clit. You have to bite down on your lip painfully, gripping into Eddie’s hair hard enough to feel the vibration of his groan against your neck before you pull him away. “Lemme get in your lap, honey.”

He looks like he wants to moan out at you but stops himself and sits back on the loveseat. He pulls his wizard cape from under him and lays it gently next to him before smiling back at you. It’s such an endearing scene to watch, you kiss him on his lips, lovingly, and gingerly before placing a smaller one on his nose and crawling onto his lap. You hear his sharp inhale when you fully seat yourself in his lap. Your eyelids flutter at the feel of his perfect cock against your aching pussy and you bury yourself in his neck. “I love you s’much, Eddie.”

He actually moans in your ear at that, grinding his hips up into you as hard as he can. One of his hands comes up from his hip to the back of your head so he can keep you in his neck as he throws his head back, still thrusting up into you.

You take this as a cue to bite him again but you give him a little warning first. You slowly open your mouth, extra careful not to let any noises slip out as he keeps thrusting himself up to you. You scrape the fangs as gently as you can on the side of his neck. You can feel his hips stutter as his thighs tense when you start. His breathing gets a little louder too, faster with little moans slipping through. “Fuck- Baby..”

The way he says it sounds like a warning but once again his body is tattling on him. The way his breath hitches, his hips grind into you faster and his moans that start slipping out are obvious signs that he loves it. You lick over the stripe you’ve dragged down his neck before starting over at the top. You move a little to the side, heading for his adam’s apple, mesmerized by the way it bobs with his moans. You kiss and bite down his neck while you begin to fumble with the button of his pants.

You can feel his stomach tensing against your knuckles as you open and unzip his pants. His hands come up to grip your arms, squeezing you hard enough to stop your movements and pulling your head out of his neck to look at him. His flushed red, his cheeks holding a little more pigment than the rest of his face. You kiss his cheeks gently.

“What is it, sweetheart?” You whisper to him before kissing his other cheek. His eyes are shut tight and his hands are bruising where they grasp you as he tries to catch his breath. He opens his eyes and you hold in a gasp, his eyes are red. They aren’t blood red but they’re not brown anymore. “Your eyes…”

He looks down and huts his eyes, a nervous smile on his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m-” He chuckles quietly when you place your hands on his jaw, pulling his head up towards you. “You’ve got me all worked up, baby.” It comes out as a whine as he feels your lips on his eyelids, kissing them. “I think they’ll go away in a second. Just- just give me a second.” He buries his head in your neck, mouthing at the skin softly.

You don’t want to give him a second though, and you don’t want his eyes to go back to normal. You want to see how you make him lose control and to know that you’re the only person who can do it to him. You let Eddie find solace in your neck but continue to rub your hands over him. You run them up his back, up his neck, and behind his head. You bring your hands to his front, rubbing his sides along the way and then up his chest. You trail them down his stomach and shove one into his boxers, gripping his hard, leaking cock. He moans into the crook of your neck and his hips buck up, thrusting his dick further into your hand.

His hands move from your arms to your back, they’re frantic, rubbing the expanse of it and pulling you closer to him. He’s moaning raggedly into your neck and your face is pressed into his, biting him softly in a million places as your hand glides up and down his wet cock. Eddie’s hands come up to your hair and pull you out of his neck, kissing you roughly, desperately. You’re licking into his mouth, tasting him when his fangs start to slide out. He starts to whine when he feels them break through his gums but you won’t let him pull away. You bite his lip with your fangs and keep your hands buried in his hair to keep him in place.

He whines a little louder than is safe and you immediately separate and hide his face in your neck, looking over to the others to see if they noticed. You don’t stop moving but you can see Steve looking at the two of you while Robin and Nancy keep talking. You can see him analyzing the position you guys are in, trying to decide whether he deems it appropriate or not. You can see when he realizes that Eddie’s pants are undone, and heat begins to rise to his face. You watch his mouth part in awe when he sees your hand moving between your bodies. You watch his eyes trail up your arm, up your body before meeting yours. His face is beet red and you’re lightly smirking at him, bringing your other hand up to press one finger against your lips.

It’s a risky move, your heart is pounding the whole time but Eddie doesn’t even notice. He’s still groaning into your neck and gently grinding his hips into your hand. You watch Steve’s eyelids flutter and his jaw clench before he nods his head shakily and returns to his conversation, his eyes flickering up to look at you and Eddie every once in a while.

You focus your attention back on Eddie as his little groans turn into grunts a whines of frustration. He pulls his head out of your neck and looks at you with an intense, heated gaze that has your hips twitching in his lap. His eyes are still red and you can see his fangs peaking out of his lips. He leans and kisses you before speaking in a low, gruff voice. “I’m…” He takes a few shuddering deep breaths before continuing, “I’m hungry.” You can feel his dick twitch in your hand as precum spills over the tip, running down your hand.

Your brain short circuits as you moan at his statement as he leans in for another kiss. You feel his tongue push into your mouth, licking all inside, tasting you as you touch him. He moans into the kiss before moving to your neck, sending a flare of arousal between your legs. Your hand subconsciously slows to a stop as you wait for him to feed off of you. You can feel him hesitating, he always does. You’re writhing in anticipation and arousal as he waits. You can feel his breath hitting your neck, you can hear him inhaling your scent. “Eddie just bite me.”

He dives in. He rips open your skin a little more roughly than he usually does. He is groaning into your wound as he drinks up all your blood. You can feel it running down your neck, spilling out of his mouth. His dick is twitching from where it rests in your hand, demanding your attention. He clamps down harder into your neck when you start jerking him off again, his hips twitching up into you while he moans. He pulls his fangs from your skin and starts licking the blood that dripped down your neck, flattening his tongue against your neck as he licks a stripe up your neck.

He brings his head up to look at you and he’s a mess. Behind his hooded eyes, his pupils are insanely dilated and his irises are still red. Strands of his hair are stuck in the blood that's smeared around his lips, his bangs pushed up and messy on his forehead from how he was trying to bury himself in your neck. He kisses you and you can feel your warm blood on your face, staining you. You can taste the copper in your mouth as you suck on his tongue, taking everything he’s giving you.

His breathing speeds up as you lick around his mouth, drinking up the rest of your blood. His eyelids flutter as they roll back and close. His lips tremble before he bites into them, licking up some more of your blood in the process. “I- fuck me. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum, baby. Shit.”

His hands leave you and his hips thrust up into the air as he reaches his peak. He lifts you slightly off the couch in the motion due to his newfound strength. It’s the same reason he refuses to touch you while he cums, he loses control.

You take a quick glance around the room, keeping in mind to keep your hand moving. You spot Steve, his chest heaving and eyes blown wide as he stares at Eddie. You turn your gaze back to Eddie and have to agree with his fascination because watching Eddie cum is the most beautiful thing ever.

His head is thrown back exposing his neck and the streaks of your blood that have dried there. His adam's apple jumps in time with his silent moans and groans while his hips buck into your hand. His eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows drawn in as his hands grip the couch. The sight has your hips twitching against his leg.

Eddie’s moans slow to a stop and his hips stutter as they come down. His gasping for air and bringing his hands back to your hips, trying to pull you closer to him. You tuck him back into his pants and scoot up his lap. You kiss his cheek quickly before bringing you cum-covered hand up to his face. “Look at the mess you made, Eddie.”

His eyes are on you with a delirious look as they slowly fade back to brown. “So sorry, sweetness.”

You hum at him in response before licking up your palm, you make sure to get between your fingers as you watch him. You see something flash in his eyes and he tries to press his hips into again but whimpers in sensitivity when he comes in contact with your pussy.

“So tasty, Eds.” You giggle at him as he drops his head in your chest. He kisses you sternum, then your throat, then your lips.

“Mm I think you taste better, sweetheart.” He says with a loving smile, his dimple making an appearance. You giggle and hug him tightly.

“Maybe… You’re gonna have to give me another taste someday.” You wink at him as he blushes.

His mind already racing with scenarios.

Thank you so much for reading!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

#eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #luvrxsmut #luvrxfics #smut #nsft #vampire!eddie #vampire!eddie munson smut

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themidnightcrimson · 2 years

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Autumn Love. | e. olsen

summary: in which you and lizzie make the most of the season.

warnings: my intense love for autumn, just pure fluff with a little making out (never hurt anyone), lots of boring purple prose because i want to, let's pretend lizzie doesn't live in cali for just a sec, im sorry to those who don't celebrate halloween or aren't experiencing autumn rn but just let me have my moment please

masterlist.

Summer had come and went. Vacations, press, concerts, and all those lively albeit draining events had filled your summer up until there was nothing left but the slow, cooling draw of late September. Your morning walks with Lizzie, usually filled with sunshine and the glittery voice of chirping birds as the earth warmed up for the day, were now slower and cooler, filled with the beautiful morning fog that flooded in through the changing trees.

Lizzie's hand grasped yours as your boots crunched through the orange and brown leaves on the sidewalk. It was chilly that morning, but crisp. The air felt easier to breathe and nicer on your skin, and the bright green trees had faded into vivid oranges and reds. Both your and Lizzie's other hands were warmed with cups of coffee you had picked up from your favorite local cafe. While you preferred iced coffee year round, today was a hot latte kind of day.

Lizzie's nose was pink from the cooler air, a thick brown scarf situated around her neck as she rambled to you as she usually did, using you as her own walking, talking diary. You enjoyed it and listened attentively as you counted the rogue acorns on the sidewalk as you passed them, noticing a squirrel scramble down from a tree and frenziedly steal an acorn from the path just ahead before scampering away with it bundled in its fat cheek.

You swung Lizzie's slender hand almost childlike as she talked, taking sips of your coffee that was now cool enough to drink. You could still taste pumpkin loaf on your lips that you both had shared from the cafe. Your fingernails were both messily painted a rusty orange because you insisted on having matching autumn-themed nails. Of course, Lizzie's was already chipped because of her mindless nervous habit of picking at them.

Lizzie's brown leather fanny pack was bulging from her collections during your walk. She loved to pick up particularly pretty orange leaves, pine cones, acorns, sticks she found artistic (you didn't really understand how a stick could be artistic), and other hints of nature from the ground to make little bouquets out of. She even had a special bowl that she had made during one of your pottery classes together that she filled up with her seasonal findings. The flowers from spring had all wilted, and you knew once you got home she would fill the decorative dish up with all that she found on your walk.

A breeze flittered through the looming trees, causing their upper leaves to wave like orange hands clapping together. You shivered from the cold, and Lizzie noticed this, taking her hand away from yours to wrap it around your shoulders, tucking you into her side. She was already taller than you, but with her heeled boots you fit perfectly under her arm.

"Are you cold?" she asked you, looking down at you and smiling softly at the way you nuzzled further into her. You nodded, looking up at her to find her red lips close to yours. She leaned down and caught your lips, kissing you softly while still walking. Her oversized black coat warmed you, as well as her soft lips. With both your eyes closed, you both lost balance briefly, walking sideways and having to break the kiss to watch where you were walking, causing you to break out into giggles. The sun peeked out of the bleak clouds, bringing some relief to the chilly wind.

You decided to drop by the farmer's market and see if they had any good pumpkins out, and you gleamed brightly when you saw they had fresh, perfect pumpkins all sitting in a bin. Lizzie helped you claw through the batch to find the biggest, most spotless ones. Only one pumpkin would fit in your mesh bag you always took to the market, so Lizzie offered to carry the other one under her arm. The bag was weighing on your shoulder during the walk back to the car, and Lizzie had to keep switching her heavy pumpkin between her arms, which made you giggle almost all the way back.

Carving the pumpkin would prove much more difficult than picking it out. Later that evening, after Lizzie made her annual chili (you couldn't understand how she could handle how spicy she made her chili), you resolved to carving the damned things. Lizzie seemed slightly unnerved by you wielding a large knife, especially when you stabbed it into the top of the pumpkin and began clumsily cutting the top off, the pumpkin nearly slipping out from under your hands several times. Lizzie would always let out a sigh of relief when she saw you had not maimed yourself before going back to calmly cutting the top of hers off.

Lizzie's curated fall playlist on Spotify lilted through the kitchen. She had set down newspapers on the table to keep from getting the table too messy, but your clumsiness had caused half of the newspapers to slip and fall to the ground.

Once you had finally gotten some traction around cutting the top of the thick pumpkin off, you slipped and almost cut your hand, and by then, Lizzie had enough of watching you nearly cut your arm off.

"Baby," she said, already finished with cutting the top of hers off. She came up behind you, gently snaking her arms around yours and taking the knife out of your hand. "Please let me do this. I don't want your blood to stain the floors."

You rolled your eyes at her excuse, knowing she was actually worried of you accidentally hurting yourself. Huffing, you shuffled to the side and leaned your elbows on the table, watching her roll up the sleeves of her beige cable-knit sweater and get to sawing the pumpkin. Biting her lip, the veins in her hands strained as she wielded the knife. You noticed that her own pumpkin was cut in a neat, perfect circle in the top, while yours was jagged and uneven.

Once Lizzie had seamlessly cut your pumpkin, she reached her hands inside and brought out two handfuls of pumpkin guts, scrunching her nose in disgust before plopping the slimy mess of strings and seeds onto the newspaper. "Ew," she giggled, holding up her messy hands out towards you. "Baby, I want a hug."

You gasped and backed away from her as she started to come closer to you with her pumpkin hands, a devilish smile on her face. "No, Lizzie!" you warned her, circling around the table. She crept towards you slowly before suddenly coming at you full speed, and you let out a shriek of terror, jumping around the table and dashing into the living room as she chased you, giggling evilly like a possessed child through the house. Finally, you warded off her attack by threatening to refuse sex for a month, which quickly sent Lizzie into the kitchen to clean off her hands while apologizing through her residual giggles, her face flushed from the high of her sadistic joy while chasing you around.

You both decided on using big ladles to scrape and scoop out the rest of the pumpkin innards so Lizzie wouldn't tempted to torment you again. Once the pumpkins were cleaned out, you sat down across from each other on the kitchen island and put your artistic abilities to the test in carving out faces. You went for a more Halloweenish look, giving the pumpkin sharp teeth and cat eyes. While your cuts were uneven, you put a lot of detail into the face. Lizzie finished way before you which caused you to believe she probably made a perfect, beautiful face on the pumpkin. She waited for you until you were done, and you both prepared to turn your pumpkins to face each other.

"Ready?" Lizzie asked with a smile, and when you nodded, you both swiveled your pumpkins around to show each other your artwork. Upon first sight of Lizzie's, you nearly screamed with laughter. Her pumpkin's eyes were simple circles, both different sizes, and the only effort she put into the mouth was a narrow smile. While her edges were neat, there was absolutely no life or detail in the face.

"Stop!" she exclaimed as you mocked her, almost beside yourself in how dumb her pumpkin's face looked as she eyed your detailed one enviously.

"You may be more handy," you said through your chuckles, wiping a tear from your eye, "but you really suck at arts and crafts."

"Don't make fun of him!" she whined, clutching her pumpkin to her chest and stroking its head like a dog as she pouted.

Once you were done making fun of Lizzie (mostly as retribution for her chasing you around with gut-covered hands like a serial killer), you cleaned up the absolute mess you both had made of the kitchen table while Lizzie started on the cookies she was making. You set the pumpkins on top of the island and placed tea lights in their bellies so that they glowed like jack-o-lanterns, standing and looking at them proudly for a moment. By the time the cookies were in the oven, you were setting up the living room. You brought out blankets and threw them onto the couch, put an array of Halloween DVDs on the TV mantle, and lit a couple of pumpkin and vanilla scented candles, placing them on either side table around the couch.

"Hocus Pocus," Lizzie argued with you as you both got changed into more comfortable pajamas in the bedroom.

"Nightmare Before Christmas," you lilted back, determined to win the argument of which movie to watch first.

"You only want to watch the first half," Lizzie said as she pulled her oversized shirt over her head, pulling her hair out from the back of it.

"Right, and then we watch the second half when it's Christmas time," you told her as you pulled your pajama pants up and tied the string at the waistband.

Suddenly, Lizzie grabbed you by the hips and pulled you against her, causing you to stumble right into her. She tilted her head as she looked down at you with a quirked brow. "How dare you deny me my Bette Midler?" she whispered dramatically.

"How dare you deny me my Jack Skellington?" you taunted back, and Lizzie answered you with a sudden, feverish kiss on the mouth. Her hand came up to grip your face as her lips moved passionately against yours. Her hand wrapped around your lower back, pressing you so tight against her there was absolutely no space between the two of you.

Your arms wrapped around Lizzie's shoulders as she walked you backwards to the bed, guiding you down until you were laying on the edge, having to wrap your legs around her torso to keep your balance. Lizzie continued to cradle you in her arm and kiss you with her supple lips that felt like heaven on yours. Breaking so you both could breathe, she gave sloppy, wet kisses across your face down to your neck where she kissed your tender skin gently, burrowing her hips between yours.

Her body was so warm against yours, her hands so strong, her lips so soft, that you didn't even hear the sound of the oven timer beeping from in the kitchen until Lizzie hesitantly pulled away from you, leaving you cold.

"Cookies are done," she whispered with a smile as she straightened up, standing between your legs as you lay on the bed, staring at her breathlessly. She smirked and rubbed the side of your thighs around her waist, letting her hands linger farther upwards. "Come on," she told you, taking your hand and attempting to pull you up.

Feeling dramatic, you let yourself go limp, causing Lizzie to groan as she yanked your entire dead weight off the bed, only to have to tuck her hands under your arms and pull you up off the bed. Feeling yourself slip, you shrieked and hooked your arms and legs tight around her, clinging to Lizzie as she picked you up, jumping a little to adjust you before carrying you downstairs like a child as you giggled in her ear.

You had never felt so relaxed as you did when you snuggled into the blankets on the couch, laying your legs across Lizzie's. She held the small plate of warm cookies while you held a little dish of candy corn, turning on Nightmare Before Christmas (she happily agreed once you made a deal to give her head later if she let you pick the movie you wanted first). You had turned out all the lights in the room, save for the light from the TV and the two wonderfully smelling candles flickering on either side of the couch.

You nestled into Lizzie's warm shoulder as you sang along to the This Is Halloween song, while Lizzie hummed it beside you. As the movie played, you turned your head upwards to stare up at Lizzie. She was focused in on the movie, mindlessly munching on the cookies. You always felt more romantic this time of year, whether it was because of the cozy holiday or because Lizzie was always extra sweet and doting around the holidays. All you knew was that Lizzie looked so beautiful wearing your matching pumpkin-patterned pajama bottoms you had picked out and watching one of your favorite Halloween movies. She was so beautiful, and she was all yours.

#elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #wanda maximoff #lesbian #lgbt #marvel #autumn #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen fluff #elizabeth olsen x f!reader #crimsonween

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

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pumpkin carving

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader

Summary: just a fluffy slice of life with Bob, carving pumpkins with your daughters.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i love writing bob as a dadddd, it makes me so so soft! Enjoy

"Daddy! Look at my pumpkin!" Bob's youngest, Josephine, called as the front door opened abruptly. He just knew one of the picture frames hung by the door was teetering on the nail.

Amy groaned from Bob's side on the couch, her head dizzy as the WSO maneuvered to pause Hocus Pocus playing on the TV. "She's so loud," she whined, her voice nasally from her cold.

Bob smiled and let out a small chuckle. He'd been on ‘sick kid’ duty all day, soothing his eldest that couldn't go out and pick her pumpkin for Halloween. You opted for a grocery store pumpkin rather than your tradition of going to a pumpkin patch. Amy still sulked all day in her father's lap.

Jo clutched the large pumpkin as she skipped into the living room. Bob's eyebrows raised and instinctively reached out to take the bright colored gourd as the eight year old struggled to hold on. "Look at that," he marveled, dropping the pumpkin into his lap. "Good job, sweet pea."

Amy opened her mouth to ask about hers but stopped as she felt your hand on her forehead. "Your fever broke," you informed her happily, gently stroking her cheek before turning your attention to your husband.

"How was the store?" He asked, turning his head slightly so you could press more soft kisses to the side of his face.

"Busy, barely managed to find one that fit all your daughter's criteria," you teased, taking the large pumpkin you held and plopping it next to Amy which caused her to giggle.

Before you left for the store, Amy gave you a neatly printed checklist for her pumpkin. It had to be a large one, wide, vibrant orange with the perfect handle. Bonus points would be given if it had funny little warts on it.

The eldest fixed her glasses as she did a thorough investigation. You slid your hands down the front of Bob's chest until your chin was able to rest on his shoulder. "It looks perfect," she concluded, turning back to you with a smile followed by a sniffle.

"Can we carve them now? Please! Please!" Jo begged, her lower lip protruding and her eyebrows upturned. You and Bob shared a look before nodding. She gasped and threw her hands up, "Ok, ok! I'll clean off the table and Amy can gather supplies…" she trailed off, skipping into the kitchen to prepare the table.

You looked at the lack of color in your daughter's face and her dull eyes looked at you pathetically. "We can save yours for tomorrow, baby bob," you told her kindly.

Amy wrinkled her nose and shook her head in silent response. She wrapped her Avengers blanket around her shoulders and slowly walked towards the kitchen to help, quietly groaning like a sick zombie as she went.

Bob rose from the couch, extending his arm for you to take. “How was she?” you asked in concern, looping your arm around your husbands. Bob pulled you close to his side so you could place your head on his shoulder, taking your sweet time to cross the room.

“Slept most of the day. I managed to get her to eat and watch a couple movies on the couch,” he explained, gently pushing the door to crack it open. Amy sat at the counter with her arms crossed on the table, her poor head resting on her forearms while Jo danced around her, placing the plastic carving tools on the countertop.

“My poor girl,” you cooed, nuzzling into his shoulder.

You two lingered, lovingly watching your children. The moment didn’t last long when Josephine pulled out the baby pink hand mixer and went to plug it in. “Alright,” Bob hummed cautiously, rushing into the kitchen and scooping the youngest up by her underarms. “Let’s let mom and dad handle the power tools.”

Jo rolled her eyes and huffed as the WSO placed her on one of the bar stools across from her sister. “It’s just a mixer,” she griped, “It’s not like I was trying to start an F-18.”

“God forbid,” you joked, kissing the crown of her head, smoothing down her hair with one of your hands.

She finally got her hands on the mixer after Bob took one of the knives and cut a hole in the top of the pumpkin. You grinned to yourself at the sight of the veins of his hand gripping the pumpkin, and he caught the look you gave him. He shot you a wink before pushing up his glasses with his wrist. “The slow setting, Jo,” he warned.

You looked at Amy, who was humming along to the Halloween playlist you put on and sketching on her pumpkins face. A comforting warmth spread through you as you observed the way she acted; she lived up to the nickname Hangman gave her while still in the womb. Her tongue poked out while she focused, just like her father. She pushed her glasses up in a certain manner, just like her father. Your gaze shifted to Jospehine, her eyes furrowed in intense concentration as Bob helped her get the strings and seeds out. Her lips thin, just like Bob’s and pressed together in a tight line. The girls couldn’t be more different, but they were very much him.

“Mom,” Amy sniffled, tapping your hand with the back of her marker. “Does this look ok?”

She turned it around, the happiest face a pumpkin could have was drawn with black Sharpie. “Perfection, baby bob,” you chuckled. Amy grinned with pride and turned the pumpkin back around, eagerly picking up the dull tool to cut it.

Jo stopped the mixer and grimaced as she pulled it out, strings and seeds from the pumpkin created a thick layer over the silver blades. “Bleh!” she shuttered. She then looked into the mostly clean pumpkin, her eyes scanning the walls. Absentmindedly, her little finger pushed the dial upward.

With a loud whirl, the insides of the pumpkin splattered all over the four of you with a gross squelch. You all gasped, Jo quickly turned it off and harshly placed it on the counter, throwing her hands up. You looked down at your shirt (freshly washed with the new, nice smelling soap) to see the damage. Amy growled and used her hand to cup the slimy contents off her cheek and rim of her glasses. “Oops,” Jo laughed nervously.

But Bob had gotten it the worst, his glasses were completely covered with goo. The three of you looked up at him as he wiped them clean, he looked down at the yellow ball in his hand and then at Jo. “You look too clean,” he said playfully before pressing it to her clean cheek. She gasped and tried to pull away but Bob kept smooshing it into her skin.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she laughed loudly, shaking her head to get away.

“Mom,” Amy whispered, not wanting to interrupt Jo’s moment with her dad. Ask her if she willingly shared her beloved father and she would deny it in an instant. “I’m tired again.”

You nodded and stood up, opening your arms for her. She gladly wrapped her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist before you hoisted her up out of the seat. “I’m going to put her to bed,” you said to Bob while Jo was distracted.

Bob smiled and kissed her forehead, “Do you want me to finish your pumpkin?” he asked her.

Amy placed her head on your shoulder and shook it. “Can we do it together tomorrow, dad?” she yawned. Bob nodded and kissed her forehead once more before you carried her out of the room.

“Mom?”

“Hmm.”

“You smell like a pumpkin,” she giggled.

You giggled in return and sniffed dramatically, “So do you.”

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x fem!reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fanfic #top gun #top gun maverick

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punk-in-docs · 2 years

Note

Hi love! I’m not sure if I requested this here or not (so if I did please ignore this and know I’m terribly sorry for asking again, I have a garbage memory) but if I didn’t, can I request an Eddie x reader fic where they’ve been in an established relationship (maybe like a year or 2). How do you think they would celebrate their anniversary? Like how do you think Eddie would be in particular, cuz I can see that lovable goofball being an anxious mess because he wants to do so much. But I’m interested to see what you think would happen in this sort of scenario, cuz you write Eddie so damn good ;)

Ok ok hear me out on this one cause I can so picture something: and it goes a little like this-

🍁love is kinda crazy with a spooky little boy like you🍁

Eddie yowled in front of you like a startled cat. You’d swear if he could, he’d raise his spiky hackles on end.

Does that thing with his arms, where he goes all shrivelled and squirrely. Mouth wide and shaped like a kidney bean as he shrieks.

Bravely though, batting the stuffed clowns cackling head, that just sprang out the shredded walls at you.

You’re lost wandering deep within the twisted seedy belly of the haunted house maze.

He punched his fist into the soft squish of the dummies head. Tufts of coarse blueberry coloured hair. Bulging chilli red eyes popping out at the pair of you. Grin all macabre on its stupid rubbery painted face.

He hates clowns. Doesn’t even like the one in that Bowie video.

“Fucker.” He hissed as he swiped at it again. Heart racing hummingbird fast in his throat.

Crushed his metal rings into it again, just because. Grits his teeth. He’s on edge.

Why did he agree to this scare jumping, spine chilling fuckery again-

Cause it’s stupid and fun. Get in the Halloween spirit. You’d said.

Then gave him a deep, beautiful kiss that was all toffee apple and pink pink cotton candy. Your tongue furred with sugar and, damn, how he suddenly forgot why he was ever mad. Haunted what? Scared, who?

“I do not like this.” He tells you.

Kept telling you, actually. His eyes go darting around corners. Gaze scanning ahead like you were tiptoeing enemies in a live war-zone.

“You’ve said that already.”

“And you apparently didn’t want to listen. So I’ll say it, once more, with feeling- I DON’T like this.” He repeats. Voice rising to a pitchy squeak.

He jiggles on the spot. Cagey. Jesus H Christ.

“Never again. I promise.” You smooth a hand to his chest and pat him on his Judas Priest shirt. Leaves warmth where you touch him that he’s too scared to enjoy right now.

“I mean what’s so wrong with the fucking bumper cars, honey? They don’t have dead fake mangled things everywhere with stuff popping out the walls- shit.”

He backs away sidewards, whimpers, edges away sudden, the wall next to him is broken wood slats and nails, with stubby zombie hands now poking through. Black rotting nails all split, half eaten flesh all green, yellow dirty bones exposed. Grunts of the undead leak through from the other side. Searching for your living juicy meat.

“I ain’t got any brains for you to eat. Morons. Go swivel.” He defends. It makes you smile.

“You like horror movies, Eddie, I thought you’d find it cool.” You try to offer in your own defence for getting you both in here.

His hand squeezes yours. Tight. Clammy with sweat.

“You can turn a movie off. Princess. You can press pause or take the video out, leave the room. It’s a small screen you can manage. I didn’t say ‘yeah sure, honey, drop me onto the fucking set of Night of the living dead. I don’t mind’.” He snaps quickly in parody. He doesn’t mean it nastily.

Despite everything, you can’t help it. You chuckle. He looks at you with a very specific look in his eyes.

You feel his hands grip for your hips in your pretty dress. He comes up right close behind you. You feel his hair brushing dry at the back of your neck. His lips skate against the crown of your head.

“Oh you’re so in for it if we make it out of here alive.”

“Theres optimism.” You rib at him. Reaching back to cup your hand over his cheekbone.

“Vamonos.” He encourages. Sneaking down and patting your ass softly.

You pass along a section of hallway where the lights blink, maniacal Vincent Price-esque laughs bubble up all around you. Rolling through the maze and snatching at your running heels.

Ghosts in jangling dragging chains with arms outstretched. Apple green eyes glowing under the white sheet. Groans and wails. The lilac purple gothic room full of creepy eyeless dolls, a chirpy lullaby from a demented music box tinkling away.

‘Help’ crudely scrawled on the walls in sticky fingertip blood, hand smears too, in the mouldy white tiles of the crazy surgeons dungeon. Screams pierce. Fake amputated limbs scattered across the operating table. Blood tinged saws and knives.

Now. He goes into his famous Munson defence mode. Scurrying along and keeping you pulled behind him. Arms braced out with you bracketed between them. Pulling you into his back and offering his own front as your shield.

The Dio vested Knight he was, all chivalry and manners, putting himself at risk for love of you. His maiden. His one. Maid Marian to his Robin Hood. Or more likely, as he liked to think of it, Marianne Faithfull to his Mick Jagger. Much cooler.

You looped your fingers through his. Pulling him back to your side.

“Don’t worry. I’ll always protect you, big boy.” You wink at him. Makes his heart squeeze and flash faster when you do that. You lean in and nuzzle a kiss onto his jaw.

He pulls you in closer. Your chest brushing into his. A twitchy sort of frenzy on his face.

“I just want you to know. If we weren’t in this hellscape. I would be making out with you so hard right now.”

“Noted.” You beam. Pulling him along again, shadows roll and flick over a movement down the corridor in your peripheral. You strong arm him away before the chain saw guy with the peeling rubber face and “human skin” mask could catch you.

That split cherry soft of your grin. He’s so soft for it. Lips pink from that watermelon balm you use that he never lets linger for too long. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like the silky taste.

You laugh and shriek when a guy in a skeleton costume, comes bursting cunningly out the slanted shadows of a corner.

“Leaving so soon?” He snarls.

“Eat shit, bonehead.” Eddie fairly screeches, and tugs you along with him. Body blocking you. Reeling you along to, hopefully, the fucking exit of this creepy hell hole.

Halle-fucking-lujah. It’s up ahead on the right. The lovely big green arrows pointing to the exit. Salvation. Freedom.

He yanks on your wrist and you run full speed towards it. Ghoul hands painted blue make one last attempt to rip at your clothes. Eddie bats them away.

Not today fuckers. Me and my lady getting out of here-

It’s definitely a relief when you come to the cooling wash of night air outside. It was stuffy inside. The cramped space choking with the smell of warm tacky plastic, and stale air lining the horror laden walls. The night air is so thick and blue out here you could drink it. Sticky opium of a bruising fall night.

The air is throbbing deep with autumnal scents. Warm bubbling cider. Fried funnel cakes. Buttery caramel popcorn and soft pretzels studded with salt. That definable gooey orange scent that comes gouged out the insides of pumpkins, pitted with seeds.

The wind isn’t threaded with a biting cold yet, but it promises too, as the treacly night drags on. Leaves, the colour of gold and apricot, crunch and snap under your feet.

Your favourite time of year. The best. The slice of the cold that has you reaching for chunky sweaters. Cold knifing rain on grey dour windows and gloomy days. Splashing your boots into autumn puddles mucked with leaves.

Horror movies, carving pumpkins, and baking orange and black sprinkle cookies with Eddie in the trailer.

He always went full tilt overkill and added way way too many sprinkles. More sprinkles than cookie, really. Lacing the place with the scents of sugar and vanilla dough. And home. Sitting out on the porch with a warm cider in your hands chatting to Wayne as he smokes. Laughing at Eddie whining about washing the dishes- getting excited that the cookies were rising too.

Eddie takes a deep breath. Scanning up at the haunted house maze you’d just stumbled through. His hand still very much clutched on yours. He meant what he said. He’d never let go. Eddie keeps his word.

Although the truth be told, he made you promise you wouldn’t let his hand go the second you stepped inside that maze.

You hadn’t let go of this hand for two years. You weren’t planning to start now.

And yes, the full fact of being here again is crashing into your gut. Making you all mushy swooning and sentimental. It was your tradition after all-

“Come on. Handsome. Let’s go. I’ll buy you a corn dog as a reward for being so tough back in there. Protecting me.” You nudge his arm to bring him in.

He steps towards you and curls you into them. Rubbing his arms along your sides. Looping hands around the back of your waist. He doesn’t say anything but he’s definitely smiling down at you. His belly pressed to you. Tilts his head. Pensive look on his face.

You’re touching in so many places. All tangled and wrapped up in leather and denim like you usually are around him.

“What is it?” You ask him. Scanning that maniacal face and those deep puddles of oozing chocolate eyes for an answer.

“It’s been two years. To the exact day.” He says softly. His thumbs smoothing over the backs of your hips.

You smile at his recounting it. “Believe me. Munson. I remember.”

“We were arguing. On top of that very Ferris wheel. Two years ago. When I first asked you out.” He points behind your hip with his finger.

Up towards the huge circular ride studded with yellow and red bulbs all the way around. A huge golden eye of dragging slow metal brushed against the navy sky.

“I was winning the argument by the way.”

“You always do. Cause I’m such a peach. I let you.” He winks. Grins all big. Shiny teeth.

Mainly he loses cause he just skips up to you like a jester, spins you around, and kisses you until you’re smiling again.

“…And it was the fourth time you asked me out. To which I finally relented, and said yes. Only if I can pick the movie and we can get cotton candy afterwards.” You beamed.

“You didn’t tell me you very vehemently hated heights.” He teased.

“I went on that ride for the excuse of being sat next to you for ten minutes, you dope.” You tell him.

It rips a chuckle out that pillowy lovely mouth. You slip your arms around the back of his neck. Sway into him. Narrow your eyes when he laughed.

“It worked. I got to kiss you and I got a date. Even if you did break all the bones in my hand you squeezed it so hard.” He recalled. He had blue knuckles for three weeks. Swollen sore. He couldn’t play guitar for a month.

He drags one curled knuckle over your cheek. Those eyes of yours he loves - the eyes he’s a servant too - are brimming golden, bursting with the fairground lights glimmering all around you. Threaded chilli red in your hair too.

“And you bought me the most huge pink cotton candy I’d ever seen.”

“Shaped like a fucking heart.” He smiled.“You feral little thing. Ate it all in ten minutes.”

“You helped.” You pointed out.

He leaned in and brushed his nose across your cheek. Into the nest of your hair. Kisses your jaw. You chuckled and slipped your arm up his back.

“Kissed most of it off your lips.” He remembers in a soft mumble, with a waggle of those brows. Lips planted against your cheek. Tone dipping naughtily into flirt.

Kissed and kissed until the sugar made him feel sick. Now he knew what the term lovesick meant. His metal and thorn wrapped rocker heart you had cupped safely in your hands. He’d never have it any other way.

You yank your hand into the back of his wild hair. Hold him still as you devour his lips with yours. Taste the Marlboro smoke that lived at a permanent address on his tongue. Pipped with the sweet toffee from the apple you’d both pecked at earlier. He’d kissed and bitten his pieces of apple right out your offered mouth.

Tasty as fuck, he’d said. He hadn’t even meant the apple.

He moans and you feel it shoot and slice to your belly. Gut punch love. His moans- they are better than music.

He cups you and keeps you yanked firm against his front as he kisses you back. Sneaks his tongue into your mouth, and the way it brushes yours makes your knees whirl all useless.

Damn his tongue should be criminal to be that good-

You don’t care that crowds of people are cutting around where you’re making out with your boyfriend. It was a carnival. High schoolers were dating and kissing horny all over the damn place.

What was one more star studded couple with hearts lodged in their eyes?

You cross your arms around the back of his neck. He tips into you. Skims his big warm hands up the backs of your smooth thighs. Resists cupping your ass in public- he should really get a medal for that. C’mon-

When you pull back, he chases after your mouth. Greedy and always so. Not ready for it to be over yet. He’s never ready to stop kissing you.

“Kettle corn. A pink lemonade. And a corn dog. Final offer.” You smile at him. An effective bargaining chip you kept in your pocket. Plying him with food as persuasion.

The way into Eddie Munson’s heart was occasionally via a funky reroute to his stomach.

You’re shameless and it works.

“Sold.” He grins. Enjoying the hell out of the way your tits are crushed to his chest right now.

“…Then the Ferris Wheel, honey.” He smirks with a pure maniacal grin of evil. “You can break my fingers again. I’ll let you.”

“This is you getting your own back for the haunted maze isn’t it.” You wilfully decide. That stubborn jut of your chin. Unimpressed eyes scratching daggers at him.

“My hand hasn’t left yours for two years. Sweet cheeks. Not gonna start now.” He beams.

He loops an arm over your shoulder. Steers you towards the corn dog stand. You tangle your steps alongside his. Slide your arm across his trim waist. His leather arm cold around your shoulder.

“Then after the food and the Ferris wheel. I’m gonna take you back to the van. And do filthy filthy things to you, whilst the firework show bursts across the sky.” The way his lips brush the shell of your ear makes your thighs wobble and shoot with sensation.

“Filthy you say?” You ask with hot blood gathering up in your cheeks. Gold lights bloom in his dark eyes like round petals. Dazzling.

“Yep.” He pops the p.

“Gonna lick you real slow. Make you yelp. Then just gonna slide my tongue right in, far as I can, I’m not gonna be stopping until you melt. Right into my mouth.” He decides with a playful little kiss to your jaw.

Goddamn it this boy knows how to make your pussy throb and clench.

“Is this all part of your grand revenge plan?” You seek.

“No. Baby. Just a damn good way to spend a Friday night with my favourite chick.”

Your heart is all melty. Slipping down the insides of your butter soft ribs. You do so love this man with every single tiny atom of your being.

“I thought your guitar was your favourite chick?” You play.

He grins. Chucked all sweet. “Nah. You feed me. You win hands down babe.”

Tagging some Munson babes; @indouloureux @youaremyfamiliar @fujiihime @groupie-love-71 @stiegasaw @thelyingpierrot @munsonquinns @captain-tch @ramona-thorns @starbxcks @morganamoonstone

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jjungkookislife · 2 years

Text

Spooky

pairing: upskirt!jungkook x original character

genre: established relationship, smut [21+]

summary: Scream is Alejandra’s favorite slasher flick and Jungkook aims to please in his Ghostface costume and pretty rainbow knife.

wc: 4.9k

warnings: PLEASE read the warnings! this is a Halloween fic and content may be triggering to you!!! proceed with CAUTION! ghostface!role play, consensual knife play (with pre-established consent), use of a knife specifically a pocket knife, dom/sub undertones, thigh-highs, pierced!jungkook, tattoed!jungkook, BD!jk, long hair ytc!jungkook, marking (hickeys, scratching, biting, bruising), hair pulling, jungkook licks the knife, mask kink (?), Alejandra hides and JK searches for her in typical scary movie fashion, quotes from the movie used as dialogue, mention of JK being sadistic, blade is pressed to Ale’s neck/throat a lot as well as the rest of her body, spit kink, degradation, oral sex (f. giving and receiving), rough oral sex (cock slapping, gagging, deep throating), mention of temperature play, fingering f. (receiving), manhandling, spanking, unprotected sex, cum eating

date: October 29, 2022

Alejandra had gotten dolled up in her favorite black skirt, with chains that dangled and shined when the light hit them perfectly. Her chunky Demonias with bat wings drew her boyfriend’s gaze almost as much as the thick thigh-high socks that rested on her thighs beautifully. He resisted the urge to sink his teeth into the softness of them. Perhaps he would when they got home.

“Babe,” Jungkook says to draw Ale’s attention as she pushes the shopping cart slowly, admiring everything on the shelf in front of her. Pumpkins of all shapes, sizes, and colors greet her. Her manicured hands are done up for the season, pink and black with little white ghosts and spiderwebs. Jungkook’s the same, only shorter. At their next appointment they’ll do black and white, perhaps add some tiny little bats. Jungkook will keep his nails short so he doesn’t hurt her when he’s knuckle deep in her soaking wet cunt.

“Look,” Jungkook grins from the spot he’s wandered to at the end of the aisle. He holds up a Ghostface mask and Alejandra beams with excitement. After all, Scream is one of her favorite films.

“Fuck,” she curses as she walks toward her boyfriend. He holds the mask up next to his face, his smirk making her feel many emotions as she leans in to press a kiss on his cheek.

“Put it in the cart,” her voice is low as she walks away from Jungkook, swaying her hips as if he weren’t already looking at her ass. He’s spent most of the drive with his hand between her legs, fingers warming from the heat between her thighs.

Jungkook does as he’s told, smiling to himself as he walks back to his girlfriend. Easily, Jungkook wraps himself around her, his chin resting on her shoulder and his hands around her stomach, careful not to squeeze too much. Today is a bad day for Ale, she’s feeling a little insecure about her body but Jungkook’s spent the majority of the day devouring her in kisses, complimenting every bit of her, and writing every reason he loves her that has nothing to do with her physical appearance.

Ale has never felt more loved than today. She’s grateful for such an amazing boyfriend, such as Jungkook, even more so when she sees him in his Ghostface costume.

Halloween finally rolls around in their household. Ale plans on handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters until it’s time for them to head to Jimin’s Halloween bash.

Alejandra’s decided to be a sexy witch. Her dress only reaches mid-thigh while her thigh-high boots cover everything except a sliver of skin that Jungkook places his large hand on.

“You look hot as fuck,” he states when he sees her.

“You too,” she says before her lips are on his. His tongue easily slips between her lips, moaning when her tongue meets his.

“We don’t have to go to the party,” Jungkook assures her as his hands slip under her dress, feeling the thin material of her lace thong donned on only for the party. Normally, she’d go commando, a recent development that Jungkook seemed to love.

“Oh?” Ale grins as she grabs Jungkook. “Wouldn’t they wonder where we are?”

“Fuck them,” Jungkook growls as he bunches Alejandra’s dress up to her hips, exposing her thong. “Don’t pretend that’s such a significant loss.”

“It’s not,” she chuckles.

“Come here, Ale,” Jungkook can’t contain his arousal. Seeing his girl in her costume is more than enough to get him riled up. The thought of her thigh-high boots wrapped around his slim waist has him palpitating. He wants her to squeeze him between her thighs, make him drool on her soft skin and maybe cum from a lazy blowjob. Who knows?

“Babe?” Alejandra calls, waving her manicured hand in front of his face.

“Hmm?” Jungkook hums once he’s brought out of his daydream, his mask covering his face. “What, baby?”

“You zoned out,” Alejandra pouts as she kicks off her boots, leaving her in just her thigh-high socks. Something Jungkook had mentioned he loved seeing on her. Just looking at them made his mouth water. It had been a good minute since his pretty lips had sucked on her skin, leaving his mark for all to see. Maybe he’d decorate her pretty tawny skin once again, leaving nothing but red and purple bruises behind.

The thought leaves his cock throbbing.

“Kiss me,” Ale demands as his fingers grip the long strands of his hair, pulling him closer as she pushes the mask off his face enough to kiss him. Jungkook kisses her easily, melting under her touch. It’s easy for him to switch into his role-play like they had agreed to beforehand, scheduling it right before the party. They were cutting it close.

“Run,” Jungkook growls.

Alejandra blinks.

“What?”

“Run!” Jungkook instructs, showing his shiny knife, one he’d swapped out his fake one for this moment.

Alejandra bites back a moan. Instantly, she takes off, sliding on the wood floor as she runs out of the room while Jungkook licks the end of the knife that won’t split his tongue in two.

Taking his cell phone out, Jungkook hits his girlfriend’s nickname on the screen; Baby Girl <3.

“Hello, Alejandra.”

“Leave me alone! Who are you?!”

“Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough!”

The line goes dead, and Jungkook cackles.

Enough games. Jungkook shakes his head as he slowly makes his way through the house with his costume and mask on. He smiles to himself when he hears the creak of a floorboard. He clutches the handle of his knife tightly in his hand as he steps forward.

Silence.

Jungkook continues forward, slowly and cautiously checking each room, but comes out blank. He runs his hand over the straight end of the knife, a pretty little rainbow blade that had made his girlfriend’s eyes sparkle when she’d seen it online. Who was he if he didn’t aim to please?

“I’m coming for you, Alejandra,” he says loud enough to be heard throughout the house. He chuckles when he hears a soft squeak and more running. Jungkook smirks, cock already hard in his pants as he moves forward, knife dragging on the wall as he approaches the bathroom.

With silent footsteps, he steps inside. He turns his head to the side, smiling underneath his mask as he looks at his reflection. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket, raises his mask to unlock it, and puts it back in place before he snaps a picture to send to Ale.

Jungkook listens intently for the soft vibrating of her phone but hears nothing. He grins as he turns to face the shower curtain, slowly pushing it back with the edge of the knife. The hooks screech annoyingly as he moves them to the other end of the tub.

Empty.

“Hmm,” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I do enjoy the chase.”

There are only so many places his girlfriend can hide. Jungkook is unbothered as he leaves the bathroom, stepping back into the hallway.

“Come on, Alejandra. Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he sings as he steps into the spare room. He strains his ears, trying to listen for any sounds, but hears nothing except the low ticktock of the wall clock that sits on the opposite wall from the door.

Cautiously, Jungkook steps further into the bedroom. His first stop is the closet, opening it rather loudly, only to come out empty.

Footsteps are heard behind him, and he cackles.

“Baby! You’re making this too easy!” he calls out, voice nearly a growl as he slams the closet doors shut.

Quickly, Jungkook is back in the hallway, catching a glimpse of Ale’s dress as she rounds a corner. He leans against the wall as he toys with the knife in his hands, admiring his nails as he gives her a few minutes to find a new hiding spot.

“Fuck,” Jungkook leans his head back, his free hand palming his erection over his pants. His skin is flushed, his body heated, and yearning for Alejandra’s touch. Wants her on her knees for him, wants to hear her sweet moans when the icy blade touches her skin and makes her shiver.

Jungkook decides he’s had enough chasing. He needs Ale more than ever. Pushing off the wall, he takes a few slow steps forward, deciding to head to the shared bedroom. He’s positive Alejandra is hiding somewhere in there.

As Jungkook enters the bedroom, he heads straight for the closet. Raising his hand, he drags the knife along the door before opening it slowly and sticking his head in. Alejandra covers her mouth to muffle the gasp as her heart races after hearing Jungkook in the bedroom.

It’s only a matter of seconds before he finds her.

“Alejandra,” Jungkook sings as he shuts the closet doors. “I know you’re in here, baby.”

Alejandra remains silent as Jungkook approaches with heavy footsteps. He looks at the nightstand, making sure the first aid kit is sitting there and ready in case it is needed. After all, safe play is the best play. He doesn’t intend to hurt Alejandra, but her safety will always be the utmost priority.

Jungkook chuckles as he checks beneath the bed, humming to himself. He smirks when he spots his girlfriend as she wiggles out from underneath.

He’s generous. He allows her ten seconds to escape before he’s chasing her with his knife. Her screams fill the home, fueling Jungkook’s sadistic self as he chases after her. He cackles when she slips on the kitchen floor, socks making it hard for her to run as she slides on the laminate flooring.

“Please!” Alejandra cries out as she falls on the floor, crawling toward the island, seeking shelter. Jungkook cackles as he approaches slowly. His thick boots meet the floor and it echoes in Ale’s ears. She holds her breath as her boyfriend presses edge of his knife to her neck, the cool blade sending shivers down her spine.

“What’s the matter, baby? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jungkook quotes one of her favorite lines (with an adjustment) of Scream and she looks into his mask, tingles running down her spine. Alejandra wants him to kiss her, to touch her already.

“Kook,” she pants.

Jungkook remains silent. His Ghostface mask is all Ale can see as the knife digs into her skin slightly.

“Are you afraid, Alejandra?” Jungkook asks with a quirk of his head, checking in with her as a precaution.

“I’m not afraid. Do it,” Alejandra pleads, swallowing thickly as the knife presses harder against her. She moans, tuning herself out in her head as Jungkook slips the knife between her breasts, cutting her stupid costume open. The sound of it tearing apart leaves her clenching around nothing as her lust-filled eyes look at Jungkook’s mask straight on. Looking down at the scraps of cloth, she’s grateful she thought ahead and bought a backup costume.

The blade lays between her breasts, nipples hard and pussy dripping. Alejandra begs Jungkook to fuck her and he cuts through the rest of the thin velvet material of her dress easily.

“Fuck, baby. Tell me when you want to stop, okay?” Jungkook checks in.

The blade slides across her hips. “Can I cut these off?”

Alejandra simply nods her consent. Jungkook waits for her to consent aloud before he’s using the knife to cut through her thong, throwing the scraps over his shoulder.

Leaving nothing to the imagination, Jungkook is quick to kiss his way up his girlfriend’s thick thighs. His lips suck on her thighs, hands gripping supple flesh as his teeth scrape along her inner thigh.

“Jungkook,” she breathes when she rips the mask off to discard it on her kitchen floor.

“Ale,” he moans in response as he kisses her once again. His hands find purchase on her hips as he kisses her deeply, his tongue meeting hers in an intimate kiss that leaves his toes curling.

Jungkook gains his restraint, his knife pressed to her neck once again. Her trembles make his cock rock hard as he presses deeper, but is careful not to draw blood.

“Fuck, Kook,” Ale moans, fingers tangled in his dark locks.

“Jungkook,” Alejandra breathes as she pushes him onto the floor once the knife is safely placed on the ground before she’s climbing over him. Jungkook chuckles darkly, reaching for the knife to place on her breast. The cold blade makes her shiver when it meets her skin.

“Fuck,” Alejandra moans, scrambling off him, giggling as she runs off.

Jungkook takes a few moments to himself, listening to the giggles of his girlfriend. She throws in a few screams to create the atmosphere but otherwise is silent save for the stomping of her sock-clad feet going down the hall.

Alejandra bites her plush bottom lip as she hides from her boyfriend, biting back the urge to moan when Jungkook stomps into the hall.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, baby,” he sings as he walks down the hallway. Alejandra didn’t make a peep as she burrowed further into the closet.

“Baby,” Jungkook sings as he rips open his bedroom door, stomping into the room and opening the closet door. With ease, he pulls Alejandra out and kisses her.

“Mine,” he growls.

Jungkook easily manhandles her to the bed, her head falling onto the plush pillows. She reaches out for him, keening when the knife presses against her ribs. The sensation has her stilling, biting back a moan as he drags it slowly down her belly to her hips.

“You look amazing like this, baby. Don’t move, okay? Can you stay still for me?” Jungkook asks before he proceeds, needing to hear from Alejandra first.

“Yes,” she clears her throat before repeating herself in a steadier tone.

Jungkook nods. “You know your safe word, right?”

“Starfish,” Alejandra answers automatically. Jungkook grins, rewarding her with a kiss on her hip before he’s hovering over her, asking her to open her mouth wide. Alejandra whines, feeling the cool scrape of his chains hitting her chin when he moves over her. His dark gaze has her pulsating, pussy soaking wet in need of his cock to stretch her, fuck her full of him and his cum.

Smirking, Jungkook collects a thick glob of saliva before spitting it in her mouth. Alejandra curses when it lands on her tongue, swallowing eagerly before begging for more.

“Greedy little bitch.” he shakes his head with a laugh.

Sitting back on his knees, Jungkook takes a moment to pull the costume off his body, leaving him in just his pants, boxers, and boots that he’s kicking off before he’s kissing Alejandra once again.

Soft hands reach for him, running down his broad shoulders and back. Nails scrape against his skin as a muffled moan meets Alejandra’s lips.

“I love you,” Jungkook whispers against her lips, kissing her right after as his hand slips between his body to spread her legs wider. Alejandra is quick to unbutton his pants, her palm gripping his erection just to hear him hiss in response. He nips at her earlobe, calling her a tease as his fingertips brush her clit.

His name rolls off Alejandra’s tongue, thighs shaking as she pulls down the zipper of his pants. Before Jungkook can do much more, Alejandra is climbing off the bed with his mask in her hands.

“Put it on?” she asks with a sly smile.

Jungkook smirks looking down at her. He raises a brow, “Anything for you, my love.”

Without any hesitation, Jungkook puts the mask back on as Ale drops to her knees in front of him. His vision is slightly obscured by the mask but he can still see the smile on her lips as she grabs his pants by the belt loops and tugs them down. Jungkook chuckles at her eagerness, a tattooed hand coming down to stroke her hair.

“We’ve got all night,” he assures her but Alejandra shakes her head.

“We’re late enough as is,” she says as her hand wraps around his thick cock, mouth already watering at the sight of the pearl of pre-cum that she licks up with her tongue. Jungkook swallows thickly, at a loss for words when his girlfriend swirls her tongue around the head of his cock, sucking it and tonguing the slit.

“Fuck, just like that,” he groans as he grabs her hair loosely so he can see her beautiful face stuffed with his dick.

Alejandra looks up, bats her lashes, and slurps loudly, obscene. Something about Jungkook in that mask leaves her soaking wet, her hand slipping between her legs to rub her clit while she takes more of his cock in her mouth, sloppily giving him head as he rocks his hips.

At the first gag, Jungkook’s pulling out, giggling at his girlfriend’s overeagerness to please. He wraps his hand around his length, asking Alejandra to stick her tongue out for him. When she does so, he smacks it wetly on the flat of her tongue a few times before he’s smacking her cheek while she desperately tries to take him back in her mouth, drool dripping down her chin toward her chest.

“Look at you, baby. Nothing but a cock hungry whore for my cock. You’re just dripping from everywhere, aren’t you?” Jungkook curses when she takes him back in her mouth, tears pooling in her eyes as he hits the back of her throat.

“Want me to fuck that little throat of yours, love?” He asks when she bobs up and down his length, one hand rolling his balls, saliva coating them as she continues to suck him off. She manages to say yes before she’s taking him back in her mouth, his cock wet and heavy on her tongue as he takes hold of her hair, knowing she’ll have to redo it when they’re finally ready to head out.

Slowly, Jungkook sets a pace that she can take, not wanting to do too much too fast, but it’s not long until she’s begging him for more and he’s eager to do so. After all, he aims to please and what Ale wants, Ale gets.

Reminding herself to breathe through her nose, Alejandra takes everything Jungkook gives her. Her makeup is smeared, lipstick fucked onto her cheeks, while mascara and eyeliner run down her face to drip onto her skin.

She’s a fucked out mess but every time she looks up and sees the mask, she pushes through, begging for more until she’s gagging around her boyfriend’s cock, pleading for more as her sticky thighs press together in search of some sort of relief that doesn’t come as her pussy clenches around nothing, in need of Jungkook’s cock and nothing else.

Laughing, Jungkook takes his cock out of her mouth, ignoring the whine that leaves her lips as he helps her to her feet. Taking the mask off, he tosses it onto the bed before he’s kissing Alejandra’s lips, licking the spit off her chin to spit back in her mouth.

“Get on the bed,” Jungkook commands, and Ale is quick to do as she’s told, butterflies filling her belly as she settles onto the pillows.

Alejandra sits up, resting her weight on her elbows as she hungrily eyes her man. Her tongue peeks from between her lips, licking them as Jungkook fists his cock while maintaining eye contact. He knows she’d be just as content watching him get himself off as she would be if he were fucking her. Her pleasure stems from his pleasure and vice versa.

“Like what you see?” he asks with a shit-eating grin, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

“I do,” Alejandra answers breathlessly, her eyes never leaving his cock as he releases it. He hops from one foot to the other, ripping off his socks, pants, and boxers before he’s climbing onto the bed once again. He wastes no time in kissing her, knowing they’ve played enough games and he just wants to feel her.

Enthusiastically, Ale kisses him back. Moans muffled in between kisses, teeth nipping lips, and tongues twined as Jungkook holds her face with his large hands, swallowing each of her saccharine moans.

“Jungkook,” his name escapes her when he’s kissing his way to her neck, teeth scraping along her sensitive skin before he’s sucking the flesh until it blooms a pretty red. His tongue then laves over the spot, his hands grabbing handfuls of her tits.

When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on her neck, Jungkook moves down to do the same to her breasts in only spots he can see. After all, they still had a party to attend, even if they were over an hour late.

Oh well, he’s sure Jimin would understand.

“Can I eat you out?” Jungkook asks as he settles between Alejandra’s thighs. His hands caress her calves, not touching her until he’s got her permission.

“Please,” comes her airy response as she falls back into the pillows behind her. She spreads her legs further, party be damned as Jungkook leans down, teasingly licking a thick wet stripe over her folds.

A shiver runs down her spine as she feels him do it again before he’s telling her to stay still.

“Don’t move, baby.” He reaches for the knife, using the handle to press onto her clit. Alejandra’s eyes roll to the back of her head as she feels the cool handle press on her clit before moving down until Jungkook is tossing it to the side closest to him to prevent any injury from occurring to her.

“Next time I should bring some ice,” he murmurs to himself. Temperature play wasn’t new to them either. The two of them normally fucked like bunnies, always adding a little spice here and there when the occasion called for it. Besides, feeling Jungkook’s ice-cold tongue on her clit left her trembling like a leaf fighting for its life with the first autumn breeze.

Jungkook’s hands grip Alejandra’s thighs, placing them over his shoulders as his fingers tease her clit, moving down to spread her lips, groaning when he sees how wet she is before he flicks his tongue against her clit.

Teasingly, Jungkook pushes one finger inside her while he circles her clit with his tongue, lewdly smacking his lips when he does it again and adds a second finger, curling them inside her as he fucks her on his fingers, pussy squelching lewdly.

“Fuck,” Alejandra covers her eyes, face heated with embarrassment, but a slap on her thigh gets her attention. Jungkook looks at her, asking her to sit up and look at him.

“Don’t you dare look away and don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you,” he states firmly as he locks eyes with hers. Alejandra nods, trying her best to keep her gaze on him as he goes back to eating her out, tongue swirling and twirling before he’s pressing his soaked fingers to her clit while his tongue fucks her entrance.

Alejandra writhes beneath him, feeling each long lick as she melts into the mattress while Jungkook alternates between long slow licks and short fast ones before taking her clit into his mouth and sucking it, teeth gently nipping it before he’s back to fucking her open on his fingers, arousal dripping down his tatted wrist.

“Fuck,” Jungkook moans softly as he watches Ale come undone on his fingers, thighs pressed together as his name fills the room. Her body arches, thighs quivering as she grips the sheets with one hand and a handful of his thick black hair in the other. She ruts her hips against his face, fucking herself on his tongue as she hits her high and combusts.

“Jungkook! Jungkook! Kook!” she can’t think of anything else as she comes down, her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat as she apologizes for pulling his hair so hard.

Jungkook grins, licking her arousal from his lips. “No need. I loved it.”

Alejandra giggles, sighing as she stares up at the ceiling, her heavy tits rising and falling with each of her breaths. Her heart is beating erratically in her chest, her body consumed by pleasure and tiredness when she’s able to collect herself, only to sit up and see Jungkook licking her essence off his fingers and grinning like a madman when he’s caught.

Almost immediately, Jungkook is above her again, chains hitting her in the face in his eagerness to get to her.

“Kook,” she laughs when she grips his chains to pull him down to her. He smiles before he captures her lips with his, kissing her deeply, her essence heavy on his tongue as they twine when the kiss deepens.

Jungkook places his hand on her thigh, lifting it to wrap around his waist. Alejandra moans when she feels the head of his cock press against her clit with each rock of his hips.

“I need you,” she whispers in between kisses. Her hands cradle his gorgeous face, mindful of his piercings as she feels herself fall deeper in love. Jungkook is all smiles and tender kisses as he lines himself at her entrance, moaning her name when she stretches to accommodate him.

“Baby,” she breathes, biting back a moan as the thickness of his cock makes her ache in the best way. Jungkook stays still for a moment, allowing her to make all the moves as she slowly spears herself on his cock to make her body take him. She’s so warm and wet. It drives Jungkook nearly insane until he bottoms out with a loud, sinful groan that makes Alejandra clench around him tighter.

“Holy shit,” she gasps at the feel of him. She swears she feels him in her stomach. Hell, maybe even her lungs as she takes a breath and her eyes squeeze shut before she’s moaning at the first cant of his hips.

“Do you want more?” Jungkook asks gently, a kiss pressed to her cheek as he makes sure his chains don’t hit her in the face when he moves.

“Please, Koo. I want it. I need it. Need you,” Alejandra curses when he pulls out only to slam back in, making her arch off the bed. “Only you, you, you.”

Jungkook takes her hand in his, lacing his fingers with hers as he sets a steady rhythm, listening to every delectable sound that escapes her. Jungkook noses his way to her neck, licking and sucking on the column of her throat to add more hickeys to the constellation already on her skin.

Smirking, Jungkook grabs both her hands to pin over her head with one of his.

“Fuck, Kook,” Alejandra moans, hands released so her nails can dig into his back as he fucks her harder, deeper, making sure she can feel every ridge of his fat cock as he splits her open. His mouth covers hers, moans and curses muffled.

“That’s my girl. Taking my cock so well,” Jungkook praises, just to listen to Alejandra whine in agreement, pleading for more as he grips her legs to place her ankles over his shoulders. He tugs her plush hips toward him, giggling when she screams in surprise at his brute strength.

Jungkook wastes no more time drilling into her, a hand reaching down to grab one of her big bouncing tits, leaning forward and bending her like a pretzel to take it in his mouth. His tongue circles her nipple into a stiff peak, sucking it before releasing it with a pop to do the same to her other nipple before he’s back to fucking her ruthlessly, grinning when the headboard smacks against the wall, again and again, the soundtrack of their coupling.

“Jungkook, fuck. So deep,” Alejandra babbles, eyes fluttering shut as her nails drag down his thigh before she rubs her clit. Jungkook grins, lifting her leg to his lips, planting a kiss on her foot before he’s placing his hand beside her head and fucking her until her thighs tremble around his waist and she falls apart in a mess of cries and curses.

“That’s it, love. Cum for me like the little slut you are,” Jungkook grunts, his hips slamming against her, balls hitting her ass as he cums inside her with a deep moan of her name.

“Shit,” he throws his head back, pleasure coursing through his body as her cunt tightens around him, milking every drop from his cock before he’s pulling out and sitting back on his feet just to see his release trickling out of her cunt.

“Looks so good,” he mumbles to himself before he’s licking it up.

“Kook!” Alejandra whines, her legs shaking as she tries to press them together with a giggle.

“Can’t help myself,” Jungkook blushes as he licks his lips, fucking the rest of his cum and hers back into her with his fingers. He brings them to his lips, sucking them clean before he’s kissing her.

“How was it?” he asks, his arms wrapped around her.

“So good,” she says as she places her head on his shoulder. Jungkook stays at her side for as long as she needs before she’s tugging him out of bed and toward the shower.

If they’re fast enough, they can make it to the party before 11 pm, only two hours late.

“You sure you can handle my Ghostface again?” Jungkook teases as he gets dressed after their brisk shower.

“As long as you can handle my Yor costume.” Alejandra grins when she steps out of the bathroom in her new costume. Jungkook’s jaw drops when he takes her in, licking his lips as he approaches.

“Challenge accepted, baby girl.”

thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌

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#bangtanarmynet #btshoneyhive #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x original character #jungkook x original poc character #jungkook halloween fic #ghostface!jungkook #ghost face!jungkook #bf!jungkook #bf!jungkook au

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whisperofsong · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: A certain outfit inspires a heated evening.

Note: This fic was inspired by an outfit I purchased for a party last month as well as a particularly scrumptious photo of Lewis. This is only my second time composing a written piece of this nature, so please be kind. Thank you for your continued support😊

Warnings: NSFW (18+)

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In the days following Halloween, you can’t help but feel despondent that you missed out on celebrating with Bob. Although you’re certain you’ll have plenty more opportunities to celebrate Halloween together in the future, this doesn’t comfort you after missing this particular one.

When you return home from work that day, you saunter to your walk-in closet and are met with a set resembling Cher Horowitz’s plaid ensemble from the iconic movie Clueless. You had purchased this outfit for a nineties party and it was a hit. Your fingers play with the fabric of the outfit and you’re suddenly struck with a brilliant idea. Smirking to yourself, you remove the outfit from the hanger and change out of your work clothes. You gingerly put on the jacket and snug mini skirt along with the white knee socks. Finally, you put on your black heels and approach your full-length mirror to examine your appearance. You look absolutely sinful and while you would normally harbor reservations about wearing such an outfit in a man’s presence, you feel confident that Bob will have nothing but appreciation for this look.

When you arrive at Bob’s apartment complex an hour later, you step out of your car with confidence and walk to the entrance with nothing but giddiness bubbling inside you. You press the button corresponding with his address and within seconds, his voice comes through the intercom.

“Hey, baby. Come on up!” he says eagerly.

While you’re typically not opposed to taking the stairs, you would be mortified to run into his neighbors wearing such revealing attire. Therefore, you opt for the elevator and the brief ride seems to drag as a result of your excitement to see your man. You remind yourself that you have nothing to worry about because Bob loves you more than any man ever has and if there’s anyone worthy of this fantasy that you’ve desired to execute for years, it’s him.

You lightly knock on the door and it doesn’t take long for Bob to open it.

“I’m so-“ His words immediately cease as his eyes widen and travel over the expanse of your body. They sweep over your chest before flickering to your exposed midriff and eventually settling upon your partially bare thighs and long legs. This outfit is truly a keeper as it accentuates your curves and complements your overall figure.

“Wh-wh-what are y-you wearing?” he stutters, fumbling over his words. His eyes haven’t left your body and he is now sporting cheeks tinted by a light shade of pink.

“Oh, this old thing? Just a little something that was hanging in my closet.” You feign interest in your nails as if the man’s reaction before you isn’t a massive turn-on, as if his marveling of your body isn’t one of the greatest things you’ve ever experienced.

“You like it?” you ask innocently, knowing the answer before he replies.

“I…I…I like it. A lot. Wait, no.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes in an effort to gather his thoughts and makes a second attempt at formulating an answer. “I love it, Y/N.”

“Mmm. That’s good to hear, but I actually have a favor to ask you.” You sidestep him and enter his apartment so that you’re now standing with your hands clasped behind your back.

Bob turns around while the door remains open as he eyes you with an intrigued gaze. “Wh-what is it?”

“I was hoping you’d be able to help me take it off. It’s awfully tight,” you say as you toy with the hem of your skirt, allowing it to rise up slightly as you take your bottom lip in between your teeth. “You wouldn’t want me to be uncomfortable, would you?” you prompt.

Bob shakes his head while his chest rises and falls heavily. “No. N-never,” he states firmly.

You reach for one of the buttons and pop it open before repeating this motion on the second button. You peer down at your chest and plaster an artificial frown on your face. “Oops. It looks like I forgot a bra in my rush to get here.” When your eyes return to Bob’s, his magnified pupils and parted mouth give you all the confirmation you need: this man is definitely turned on.

In a matter of seconds, Bob slams the door shut, causing the sound to ricochet off the rather thin walls. He advances towards you and pulls you into him so that your chest is now pressed against his own. “Bedroom?” he asks in a low voice. You nod before leaving his embrace and walking backwards to his bedroom so that you’re able to watch him.

Once you’ve backed up into his room so that the backs of your legs are now met with the end of his plush bed, you halt and wait for him to make the next move. Bob licks his lips and approaches you slowly. He caresses your arm through the constrictive fabric of your jacket before his hand inches higher so that it’s now in direct contact with your shoulder. His other hand follows suit before he uses both hands to delicately push aside the top of the jacket to fully expose your breasts.

The sight of your perky nipples elicits a groan from Bob and, almost as if he loses his grip on self-control, he uses the pads of his thumbs to brush your nipples lightly, causing them to harden into little points. Although you don’t have voluptuous breasts, Bob couldn’t care less because he was a staunch believer in the expression, “More than a mouthful is a waste.” Bob repeats this tantalizing motion before he begins swirling your nipples in a circular motion, leading you to arch your chest into his touch.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, Bobby. Not when I need you this badly,” you whisper seductively. You’re pleasantly surprised at how effortlessly your words are flowing and realize that the nervousness you formerly harbored has now vanished.

He takes your words seriously and slides your jacket down your arms. A shiver runs through you as cool air hits your naked upper half. Bob tosses the jacket to the side with no regard for where it lands and latches his lips onto your right nipple, the warm sensation of his tongue feeling like pure heaven. A soft whimper leaves you while Bob sucks on your nipple with fervor before granting your left one equal attention. You could come undone just by looking down at your glistening nipple and the one currently moving in and out of his mouth.

As much as you relish the feeling of his lips on your sensitive flesh, you crave that same attention elsewhere and want to regain some of your previous control. “That’s enough,” you pant and plant your palms on his shoulders to stop his movements.

Bob looks at you with a quizzical look. “Enough? D-did I do something…wrong?”

“No. But I thought you might want to see some other things,” you purr into his ear. Bob’s eyes flutter closed at your insinuation and exhales deeply. “Yes. Yes,” he breathes in desperation.

“Lay down on the bed,” you instruct him and he obliges you, making himself at your complete mercy. You swiftly join him and push up his gray t-shirt, thereby giving you a wonderful view of his taut abs. You slowly crawl up his body so that you’re almost seated on his stomach and take his hands in yours so that they’re positioned on the edge of your skirt. His eyes meet yours, wordlessly seeking permission, and you grant him this permission with your eyes alone.

He pushes your skirt higher at a painstakingly slow pace and when it finally reaches your hips, he whimpers upon discovering you’re not wearing any panties.

“It looks like I forgot panties, too. I can be so forgetful,” you sigh. Bob gawks at your slick pussy through slightly fogged glasses and you know it’s because you’re wetter than you’ve ever been. His hand moves towards your center, but you gently grip his wrist to stop him from continuing. “Actually, I have a different idea in mind…if you’re willing.” You look at him questioningly and he gulps before replying in a shaky voice, “Y-yes.”

You smirk and then proceed to carefully climb over him so that you’re slightly hovering over his body. He lays back and is looking up at you with his mouth agape, clearly in a trance. You glide your hands up and down his chest and hum in appreciation. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” you admit.

“D-do what?” he asks in a breathy voice, but you don’t reply with words; instead, you allow your actions to do the talking. You rub your bare pussy against his stomach and Bob lurches forward at the contact with his face contorted in bliss. He closes his eyes and his mouth forms an o shape while you unabashedly slide your wet center against him repeatedly, enjoying the glorious view beneath you: Bob writhing and moaning each time your pussy slides against his now slippery chest.

“Y/N, I…oh, God.” Bob tosses his head back again as he’s immersed in the pleasure you’re providing him.

You lean down closer so that your breasts are now directly above his face with only a few inches of space separating them from him. “What is it, Bob?” you whisper.

“You just…you f-feel s-s-so good.”

“You feel good, too, honey.”

“Need t-to taste you,” he grunts somewhat impatiently.

“Only good boys get rewarded,” you assert. “Do you think you’ve been a good boy, Bob?” you ask, knowing you’re teasing him and that it’s only heightening the pleasure he’s experiencing in this moment.

“Yes. Always wanna be good for you,” he moans and starts writhing more harshly beneath you, jostling you somewhat as you do your best to maintain your seat on his chest.

“You’re always good for me and to me,” you say into his ear as you playfully nip at it and then immediately soothe it with flicks of your tongue. After repeating this several times, you return to a sitting position. He doesn’t give you much time to process what’s transpired in the last ten minutes because he deftly flips you onto your back and spreads your legs so that nothing is concealed. He doesn’t bother removing his glasses when he goes down on you because he knows how much you adore them, especially when you gaze down and see them hanging loosely off his face while he’s bringing you to your climax.

One of your favorite things about being intimate with Bob is that he takes his time with you, savoring each sound you make, the way your body feels against him, the loving gleam in your eyes solely reserved for him. In your initial experiences in being intimate with Bob, you noticed that he was often reluctant to stray from what’s considered normal, but with enough encouragement, he was willing to venture into uncharted territory. Consequently, you learned he’s adept at dirty talk, but will not initiate it because you sense he’s still concerned about potentially crossing a boundary with you. Tonight, you intend to make him cognizant of your ardent desire for him and him alone.

The first stroke of Bob’s tongue against your core is spellbinding and you feel your insides liquify at the way its moving against you, almost as if he’s using it to worship you. “Bob,” you moan. He groans in question as he skillfully slides his tongue up your slit in a tantalizingly slow manner. “Talk to me, baby. Please,” you implore and you know he’s incapable of resisting you, especially when you’re in such a state.

He momentarily pauses and holds your gaze to confirm he heard you correctly. “I want this,” you affirm and sweetly caress his cheek. He turns his head to place a tender kiss on your palm before resuming his previous position.

Bob’s tongue sweeps through your folds. “Tell me something, Y/N. What specifically got you this wet? Was it surprising me with such a naughty outfit?” His tongue glides through your folds once more and your hips buck in response. “Was it riding me with your bare pussy?” he questions, swiping your clit with his tongue. “Or…was it knowing you can only be dirty with me?” he inquires before he harshly sucks on your clit. You gasp and rub your center against him, noting your slick that now coats his chin along with his pink lips.

His tongue is relentless as it laps around you, the obscene noises of his mouth and tongue permeating the room combined with your moans that are increasing in volume. He groans against you as your pleasure results in his own and he grips your hand with his, which only intensifies the experience. “Whose pussy is it, baby?” Your eyes dart open and you begin to feel the telltale signs of your orgasm approaching. Although dirty talk always enhances sex for you, this particular question does something special: it rids you of your inhibitions.

“Oh…oh my God,” you sigh and struggle to string words together. You bite your lip to delay your impending orgasm because you don’t want to let go just yet.

“Say it,” he urges in a demanding tone that causes you to curl your toes and arch your back. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he grunts.

You can no longer ward off your pleasure as it reaches its peak, but before it consumes you, you manage to get out a broken, “You.” Unbridled pleasure courses through your veins, the feeling unparalleled to any of your experiences with former lovers. No one compares to your Bob.

Your legs tremble as you rub your center in a frenzied manner against Bob’s face, but he doesn’t seem to mind as his tongue is persistent in seeking you, unwilling to stop. Once your body settles down, Bob presses a few soft kisses to your now sensitive area before he pulls away, enabling you to somewhat catch your breath.

For a few minutes, you lie there with your chest heaving and your limbs feeling like jelly. Despite the intensity with which Bob ate you out, you find yourself possessing ample energy and want more. You use your palms that are flat against his comforter to hoist you up and find yourself clamoring for him, pulling him to you as your lips crave his in desperation. Your lips meet clumsily at first, but this awkwardness quickly subsides when his tongue licks your lips. Without hesitation, you open your mouth so that he has complete access to you and your tongues mingle in a languid fashion. The sensation is indescribable and, just when you think it can’t get any better, Bob cups your cheeks with his large hands and whispers against your swollen lips, “I love you, Y/N. My girl.” Your mouth transforms into a smile before you whisper, "I love you, Bob.”

You attack his lips once more before pushing him back down on the bed. He tugs at his jeans and they lazily fall to his ankles before you rid him of them. You press a kiss to his dick through his Calvin Klein briefs and feel it jolt as a result of your touch. “Please,” Bob breathes. “I need you.” You and Bob remove his underwear in tandem, the enthusiasm you share reflected in your nimble movements. Bob’s eyes are dramatically enlarged as you climb on top of him and reach for his hardened length.

“You…you want to ride me?”

You nod sheepishly as you’ve only done this one other time and although it was a bit awkward, you’re eager to try it again.

“Fuck,” Bob exhales.

“Is…is that okay?” You mentally wince as you hear the confidence lacking in your voice, afraid that you’ve ruined the moment.

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since the last time. It’s more than okay,” he answers sincerely and you’re relieved. “We’ll take it slow, okay? There’s no rush,” he reminds you and gives you a small smile that’s both reassuring and sexy.

You guide his tip to your entrance and move it between your folds to cover him in your arousal, earning soft moans from him that are heard with your own gentle cries. When he’s covered in you, you slowly situate yourself onto him and clench his arm once he’s fully seated inside you, the stretch overpowering your senses.

“Are you okay, baby?” Bob asks with a concerned expression.

“Mhm. Give me a second.” The sharp sting fades and when you attempt to move, you’re not met with any discomfort. You grind against him and savor the way your clit brushes against his pubic bone. Eventually, you find your rhythm and alternate between bouncing and grinding. Bob reaches behind you and palms the flesh of your ass greedily before delivering a light slap to your left cheek.

“You look so damn sexy like this. Riding me so well, Y/N. Love being yours,” he moans deliciously and you find your hands gravitating towards your breasts to play with them as you continue to ride him in a wanton manner. Bob begins to meet your thrusts and the two of you move in unison as you aim to maximize each other’s pleasure. His thrusts become more forceful, causing your tits to bounce furiously above him. “This view is enough to make me come. Can’t get enough of your gorgeous tits and this tight pussy, baby,” Bob remarks and you let out a whimper fused with a moan in response.

“I’m close, Bob. Really close,” you reveal. Without warning, Bob uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips wider as he pushes into you even harder and says, “This is my pussy, Y/N. Don’t you forget that. Mine.” He punctuates this final word with a particularly sharp thrust and his wicked words send you careening over the edge. In the midst of chasing your most potent climax yet, you feel Bob come inside you as his thrusts lose their rhythm and become lazy. You topple over him while taking deep breaths and he encases you in his arms as he nestles his sweaty face in the crook of your damp neck. “That was amazing,” he whispers. “Think you can wear that outfit for me next time?” he asks sweetly.

“For you, Bob? I’ll do anything.”

@bradshawsbaby @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @demxters @bobfloydsbabe @notyoursbutlewis @theforgottenmcrmy @sebsxphia @bratshaws

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction

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