#i have no words except to go back to fucking school and sit your ass back down dont you fucking dare consome asian media if you just want to
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Bark bark bark awoooo
You’re gonna fucking combust.
Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.
“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”
His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.
You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.
It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.
Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.
Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.
Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.
It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.
Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.
Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)
He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.
You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.
You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.
But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.
And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.
Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”
Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.
Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.
Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.
“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”
You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.
“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.
Snort.
“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”
A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.
“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”
Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.
—
“Fuck it.”
Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.
“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.
You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.
“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”
For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.
He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.
“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.
A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.
You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.
“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.
Lastly, the shoes.
“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.
You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.
“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”
Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.
“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”
To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.
“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”
You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.
“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”
More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.
You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.
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"Do You Want One?" | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+
Summary: your cousin shows you around Hawkins High for your first day, and is surprised to say the least when her sweet cousin hooks onto Eddie Munson. Just seeing him brings a swoop to your stomach you've never quite felt before, and become desperate for more of him.
Warnings: late bloomer!reader, virgin!reader, mentions never having experienced lust of the sort or really understanding what it is, corruption!kink, little praise, taking of virginity, slight perv!eddie
Authors' note: I, myself didn't feel any sort of sexual attraction or lust until i was 15/16. I tried to write the reader innocent without being infantilized. Also, these photos are for aesthetics only, not much of the reader is described, except for height. Also, my editor pulled through, despite her busy schedule, thanks @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you! This is a birthday present to @bebe07011, always one of the first to read <3
Word Count: 9k
The subtle, yet annoying ring of your alarm yanks you out of your sleep, a sleep that took hours to settle into after anxious tossing and turning. A yawn overtakes your body as you sit up, looking around sleepily at the boxes that contain the contents of your room. You whine as the stars overflow your vision from the rubbing of your eye.
Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, tasting the mint of your mouthwash when your mom pushes a bagel into your hand. Most of the kitchen is still in boxes, just a few appliances on the unnaturally bare counters. “Hey, Aunt Karen just called and said Nancy will be here any minute.” She offers, and a part of you feels for the bags under her eyes.
“Thanks.” You say, garbled with a piece of bagel in your mouth.
“Oh, and Mike is being a little testy, so he probably won’t move from the front seat for you.” She laughs, shaking her head.
You shrug, not caring. “I’ve been in the backseat for this long.”
Two honks out the front announce their arrival, and you ignore the anxious reminders she hurriedly spits out as you grab your backpack by the front door, already filled with school supplies from Texas. You shout an I love you to her as the Wheelers’ Station Wagon comes into your sight from the swung open door, finally out of her worried clutches that you’ve been in from the last week straight.
True to Aunt Karen’s word, Mike gave a defiant look when Nancy demanded he get out the front seat. Again, you didn’t care. “Sorry Mike has a ruler up his ass.” Nancy apologizes, her smirk reaching your own in the rearview.
You roll your eyes, a signal that it really doesn’t matter to you.
Hawkins, miniscule in comparison to that of your old home, Houston, passes by in the windows and you huff a sigh out at how much smaller your world has gotten. Your town, your school…you wish you could go back and give a reality check to the girl who patronized Nancy for it on the phone.
As promised, Nancy shows you to the front office and your first few classes. Being the new girl in the middle of a semester is absolute bullshit, but at least it wasn’t Forks, Washington levels of bullshit. That level of attention would’ve had you crawling under a bridge. Thank God only one teacher asked you to introduce yourself to the class. The rest of them couldn’t even be bothered.
Nancy sits alone at lunch, a notepad in her hand next to a near empty lunch tray. One thing you notice is that this school is much more categorized than yours was. It felt straight out of a high school dramedy, one you would criticize for being cliché.
Oh. Maybe it does some have truth to it.
“Hey loner.” You greet her, your butt hitting the hard plastic chair.
“I’m not a loner.” She huffs, hand moving absentmindedly as she writes. “My news team is getting this week’s paper done, we usually get it done during lunch.”
You roll your eyes, having noted the empty space on her tray. “You work too hard.”
“Nope. If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.” She answers, her signature side smirk on her face. Sometimes, only sometimes, Nancy doesn’t really have a serious bone in her body.
You gesture to the cafeteria, opening your fruit cup. “So, tell me about your very categorized cafeteria.”
She laughs, pausing in the middle of the sentence she’s writing. “So. There’s the jocks/cheerleaders, the nerds, the band nerds, drama nerds, science nerds—"
“Those are different from the regular nerds?” You ask, eyebrow quirked.
“Yes.” She deadpans. “Those are the kids without a clique,” she points, a bunch of kids not interacting, shyly nibbling at their lunches. “And finally, where my brother sits. Hellfire.”
It felt dramatic, but the table definitely earned their last but not least position. They stand out from the crowd, not seeming to care about fitting in like everyone else so desperately does. From the looks of it, individually, none of them would fit in the crowd. As a group, they stick out like a sore thumb. They don’t even care.
Nancy seems to be speaking, but she fades into the background. While you tricked yourself into believing you were observing the table, it occurs to you your eyes are fixated on the head of it, your heart beating out of your chest as you stare at him.
Him.
“Who’s he?” You interrupt Nancy, watching as his long frizzy hair curtain over his face. You didn’t even know someone in real life could be this good looking, you were sure it was reserved for celebrities in magazines.
Nancy switches her glance back and forth between your slack jaw and wide eyes and him. “That’s Eddie Munson.” She answers, her voice calculated. “The dork that I complained about Mike copying, remember?”
Your tongue reaches out to lick your lips, staring at him distractedly. A hot feeling in the swell of your gut overwhelms your senses. “You described a wet-rat loser.”
Nancy huffs in abrupt laughter. “That’s cause he is!”
“Him?” You ask, this hot feeling starting to radiate. You notice it’s especially hot in your crotch, a sort of…want you’ve never felt before. You’ve never craved for anyone this badly.
Nancy laughs in disbelief, surprised to say the least that her sweet cousin is openly drooling over Eddie The Freak Munson of all people. “I can put in a good word, if you want.” She teases, smirking at the way your eyes widen in panic.
“No, no, please don’t.” You insist, your eyes finally flickering back to her.
“Fine, you can drool from afar.” She muses. “Oh, lunch’ll be over in a handful of minutes. What’s your next class?”
“History.” You answer, viewing your crumpled schedule. God, not another boring lecture.
Nancy bites her lip, something she’s clearly not willing to share with the class. You don’t ask, still trying to catch your breath.
She walks you across the school to the classroom littered with historical figures and maps. She salutes you, telling you she’ll see you in AP Calculus right after this one. The look on her face never leaves it, she’s always got a secret right under the surface, but this one seemed more entertaining than the rest.
When you enter the classroom, the teacher tells you there’s assigned seats in this one and lucky for you, there’s one seat left. She directs you to the far-left corner, signalling to the one on the right. You shyly ignore the looks on your new classmates faces, all of them observing the face of the new kid who started so late in the year.
New faces are always hard to ignore, it’s just human nature to stare. Still, your stage fright is present in the forefront of your mind.
Your teacher starts the lecture by introducing you as a new kid, offering a wave to everyone that turns their head to look at you. Why can’t teachers just learn to be normal?
Your head is turned down, leaning on your elbow as she starts to explain a concept you’ve already learned last year. Are they sure they put you in a grade 12 class? At least this will be easier than most. Suddenly the heavy door opens, and your heart stutters as the man who’s taken over your every thought stumbles into the room ten minutes late.
“Mr. Munson! How nice of you to join us!” She greets, her scowl indicating that it’s anything but.
“You are so welcome, Miss. Greyson.” Eddie answers, his voice dripping in a tenor tone that sends a shiver down your spine. Not a lick of sarcasm comes from him, answering as if she was genuine.
She sighs, closing her eyes in exasperation. “Just go have a seat.”
Something in you suddenly realizes that the only available seat is right next to yours. A thrill takes over you, biting your lip excitedly as he struts as if he has all the time in the world.
After a brief stint on the projector, Miss. Greyson instructs the class to open their textbooks and answer questions on the following pages. “You may work in pairs.” She answers the many raised hands, and the room is filled by the harsh sound of desks groaning against the floor.
You get up from your desk, leaning into the teacher as she gathers the laminated sheets she had just used for the lesson. “I don’t have a textbook, yet.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She replies, dropping her pile to shuffle off to her desk. “I completely forgot, in all the excitement.” She hands you the textbook that looks about fifteen years old, the spine cracked to oblivion. She leans in as you grab it, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry about the placement of your desk, just ignore him. There was no one I hated in this classroom enough to place next to him.”
You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow, perplexed at her open disdain for him. It reminded you of the tone of voice Nancy had over the phone, wondering if the whole school was really this open about it. “I’ll live.” You answer, and she winks like you two share a secret.
Your textbook lands harshly on the desk, opening it to the page indicated in white chalk written on the blackboard. God, the reading is four pages, and the questions are a paragraph each. This much reading on the downfall of Mycenae? A jarring noise to your left surprises you, looking up to face his desk come closer and closer.
He leans over, a smile on his face that sends a thrill right through you. “So, how come I’ve never seen you around?”
He talks low, you spend the time hoping he doesn’t notice the goosebumps that trails over your skin. “Uh, I just started today.” You beg yourself to seem normal, to look him in the eyes like a decent conversationalist. You can’t bring yourself to, no matter how hard you try. Somehow you know when you finally look in those eyes of his, you’ll be too mesmerized to look away.
The printed words on the page make no sense, just a blur of boring text in black and white.
He leans back in his chair; you can feel his eyes planted on you. “Ah, makes sense. I would’ve remembered seeing your pretty face around.”
Oh my god he just called me pretty. Surely, he’s lying? Being in his line of sight and being considered good looking enough to him for him to even glance at was never in your wildest imagination, picturing him glazing right over you. Just a bug on the windshield. You gulp, pretending to be infatuated with the page in front of you instead of the man next to you.
“You shy?” He asks. In the corner of your eye, you see him leaning onto his elbow, his eyes staring a hole in your head.
Finally, you tear your glance off the textbook and onto him. God were you right about his eyes. How can a pair of brown eyes be so captivating? They’re a perfect chocolate brown, his mouth in a lopsided expression that sucks the air out of your lungs. “A little.” You admit, distracted by the sound of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk.
His limber fingers are dressed in chunky silver rings, the sight of his hands moving distractedly suddenly sends the heat you felt in your stomach earlier into a frenzy, the pull strong and overwhelming. “I can work with that.” A shy smile lands on your face, clenching your teeth as a method of resisting the urge to smile ear to ear. “Can I get a name?”
You tell him and hearing it from his lips is a vice and a half. “And you’re Eddie.” You say before he can introduce himself.
“So, my reputation precedes me.” He laughs, crossing his arms. “Or am I exactly like they said?”
You shrug. “Not exactly.”
His shoulders indicate a silent huff of laughter. “Care to expand on that?”
You shrug again. “You’re just…different.”
The look on his face indicates this answer isn’t good enough, but he doesn’t care to ask you to expand any further. As you work on your homework, finally settling your heartbeat and breathing rate, he writes in a notebook littered with graffiti. His left foot rests on the edge of his desk, the book resting on his thigh as he writes with the dull pencil.
He’s not doing any homework, but he’s at least letting you work on yours. The bell finally rings, dismissing you from your class and the room fills with chatter as everyone packs their bags. “You know where your next class is?”
You shake your head; having told Nancy you could work it out on your own. “Uh, no. It’s AP Calculus with Mr. Warner.”
“Mr. Warner.” He muses, his notebook in one hand and carrying a small metal tin. “Here, I’ll walk you.”
You pause, gulping as your bag rests on one shoulder. “You don’t have to do that.” You insist, suddenly realizing he’s about a whole head taller than you.
He smiles, his gaze making you feel…hot. “I didn’t ask, sweetheart.”
The way you gulp, your wide eyes darting back and forth between his, your teeth biting on your bottom lip nervously, Eddie was startled at the physical reaction and it was all going straight to his dick. The urge to shove his thumb between your pretty, plump lips is overwhelming, to say the least.
“Oh.” You answer, fingernails digging into the strap of your backpack. “Then lead the way.”
Eddie shakes his head, starting down the hallway to the other end of the school. As soon as he reaches the classroom, he turns around, leaning against the locker on his arm, neck hunching over you. Oh god, he’s gorgeous. “Will you let me take you out on a date, tonight?”
Every bone in your body wants to say yes, fingers just itching to reach out and touch his lithe hips. “My mom won’t let me go out on a Monday.”
So, that was not a No. “I would’ve asked for Friday, but I can’t wait that long.”
His admission drives you crazy, that heat ever present. Things like this just don’t happen. “Neither can I.” You admit, feeling scared of the rush that overwhelms you, yet scared of the idea of it never happening. You think quickly, biting your lip. “Think you can pick me up from my cousin’s house?”
He squints, crossing his arms as he leans against the locker. “Who’s your cousin?"
“Nancy Wheeler.”
His eyes bug out of the sockets, sighing in disbelief. “You’re cousins with Wheeler?” You nod, wondering if there’s any unspoken animosity between them. “I’ve dropped her kid brother off a few times, I know where she lives. You gonna tell your mom where you’re heading out for the night?”
You shake your head, sure he knows the answer, already.
Eddie huffs, hoping the crotch of his pants won’t give him away. “You ever snuck out before?”
“No.” You answer, looking up as the bell rings. “But I’m sure I can manage.”
You can’t place the expression on his face, somewhere between bewildered and amused.
For the record, it’s pure lust, having just met you and he’s already accidentally convincing you to sneak out for him. He wants you to, wondering if one day you’ll go so far to skip class to have fun with him under the bleachers.
His eyes leer down your body, watching as your skirt dances across your bare thighs while your feet can’t stay in place. He plays with his fingers absentmindedly, just barely resisting the urge to move them past the barrier and watch your face melt in pleasure.
“What time?” Eddie asks, eyes flickering up to your sweet face.
You think about it, knowing you’ll need time to grab at least a dress and get ready at the Wheelers’. “7:30.”
Eddie laughs, turning away from you and back down the hall to where you presumed his class was. “Pick you up at 7.”
“I-I said 7:30!”
“I’ll honk twice!” He answers, hand in his pocket like he didn’t just glue you into place.
The echo of his voice suddenly reminds you the halls are empty, only a few feet away from Mr. Warners classroom. You know more than anyone that AP Calculus students just aren’t late. Maybe he’ll give you grace on your first day.
You ignore the way every set of eyes switch to you, looking around the room for an empty seat. Luckily, Nance has saved one right next to you. “Hi, sorry. Couldn’t find it.”
“That’s alright, take this and have a seat right next to Miss.Wheeler, there.” He offers, gesturing to your cousin.
When the lecture ends and he assigns homework, she gets right to the point. “So, how was History?”
You sigh, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “You knew he’d be there.” You accuse, her grin affirming your assumption completely. “A warning would’ve been nice.”
“Not like you had to speak to him.” Nancy sighs, opening her textbook to the page indicated.
You stare at her pointedly, opening your book to a random page. “I sat next to him.”
Nancy instinctively knows something is up, seeing something was on your mind. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“You’ve barely given me a chance.” You comment sarcastically, looking over at her expectant face. “He…he asked me out.”
To say Nancy is surprised at this development would be simply, an understatement. “I’m sorry?”
You grin, finally letting that smile you’ve been hiding take over. “He’s picking me up at 7.”
“Like your mom will let you go out on a weekday.” She squints, knowing your mom’s tendencies to make you prioritize school over anything else.
“…which is why I need you to cover for me.” You hesitate, grinning shyly when she gives you a look of utter disbelief.
“Seriously?” You nod, pleading with her silently. “Fine. But you owe me big.”
You promise to make it up to her.
When the bell rings signifying the end of the day, your heart beats rapidly as the time for your date comes closer and closer. Nancy said she wouldn’t be able to help with your conundrum of the fact that you’ll need a dress and a way to get from your house to Nancy’s.
As you sit next to her while she writes a rough copy of an article wondering who you could possibly get to drive you. You might be shit out of luck. Like an angel, a freckled redhead appears out of nowhere. “Nance, is that the cousin?” She asks, sitting right across from you.
From the look on Nancy’s face, you’re unsure how close they actually are. “Yep.”
“Cool! I’m Robin, over-sharer, anxiety ridden, fast talker. Nice to meet ya.”
You take her extended hands, sort of hypnotized by her warm green eyes. “You too.”
“Hey, Steve busy?” Nancy asks, a million thoughts behind her head.
“Probably not.” Robin offers, getting up from the table. “Why?”
“Oh, she needs a ride.”
Robin eyes you, a smirk landing on her face. “I can convince him.” She side eyes, gesturing for you to follow.
You follow her around the school to the front where you face a handsome lanky dude sitting impatiently as he waits for his friend. When he turns the window down to ask who you are, you realize he’s not just handsome, he’s hot. God, you’ll have to reprimand Nancy for leaving that detail out. “What’s with the guest?”
“She’s Nance’s cousin. She needs a ride, would you mind?”
“What am I, a chauffeur?” Steve asks, face shifting into a deep scowl.
You stop Robin from responding, having an immediate comeback. “I had to listen to my cousin bitch about you for hours. Hours. I think I deserve a little compensation for my time, don’t you?”
Steve smirks, looking from under the hair falling into his face. “Whatever, get in.”
“Where you need a ride to?” He asks as you get into his backseat.
“My house.” You pause, hesitating to say the second location. “Then Nancy’s house.”
Steve squints suspiciously at you in his rear view. “Why two locations?”
“So my date can pick me up tonight.” You admit, glancing out the window shyly.
Robin turns in her seat, jaw dropping open. “Isn’t this your first day?”
You shrug, biting back a smile. “So?”
“Oh shit.” She glances to Steve and back to you. “Who? Do we know him?”
“Um, probably.”
“We know him.” Robin states.
“Turn here, third house on the left…” you tell him, getting out of his car as soon as it stops.
When you get inside your house, you explain to your mom you are way further behind on school than you thought you were and will need some time to get caught up. She asks how late you’ll be, and when you say midnight, she doesn’t even hesitate to let you go.
Thank god you don’t lie, because this should not be this easy. Your hands ruffle through the box of dresses by your bed, grabbing at a few you know look good on you. They’re stuffed into your backpack, cursing yourself for not unpacking your makeup earlier. Hopefully Nancy will be nice enough to lend you some. (You doubt it.)
You rush a love you out to your mom and back into Steve’s back seat, out of breath from running up and down the stairs so damn fast. God, the things you were doing for your goddamn date.
Nancy only lives down a few blocks from you, thus the easy carpool your moms figured out until you get your car. God, in Houston you could’ve just taken a METRORail, you didn’t need a damn car. You thank Steve profusely, thankful for his saving grace.
You would rather tell every member of Hawkins Senior class personally a fun fact about you than go out with Eddie in the same thing you wore to school. You’re shy, not pathetic.
“You don’t owe him anything if you tell us who asked you out.” She calls out of her open window, face full amusement. “C’mon!”
You wait as they pull forward, Steve shaking his head at his best friend’s shenanigans. “It’s Eddie Munson!” You shout, laughing as she shouts a what in utter disbelief.
You wave as they take off, thinking you and her could actually be great friends. She has the kind of spunk you look for in a friend, the same spunk you’ve witnessed in your cousin. A large part of you wonders why they’re not friends.
When your Aunt Karen wonders why she wasn’t alerted, you give the disclaimer you’re just there to catch up on the schoolwork. Your Uncle Ted insinuates Houston must be so far behind Hawkins, and you grit a smile in response, an indent on the tip of your tongue from your teeth. Most of your lessons from the school day you had learned last year, already earning top marks on those questions. The only class that was remotely hard was calculus.
It was borderline hilarious.
You run up the stairs, stomach in knots.
Nancy is nice enough to let you use her makeup, grinning up at you with amusement as you ruffle through the dresses you so hurriedly packed. She gives a definite yes to a dress you knew stands out but worry at the way it just brushes against your thigh, and the neckline dives deeper than what you’re used to.
When it cascades down your body, the look in her stark green eyes tells you everything you need to know. This was the dress. Nancy is kind enough to do your hair, talking quietly with you as she curls your hair.
The half hour leading up to 7 has you lying on her bed, freaking out. She does the homework you’re supposed to be doing, answering your questions vaguely. She tries to make you feel better, grinning cheekily as she never imagined her sweet cousin going on date with Hawkin’s resident metal head.
When two honks occur down the street, you sit up starkly at the sound, biting your lip as you glance to her. “Go. I’ll distract my parents.”
She does, asking them for faux advice in the living room as you sneak past them to the front door, closing it with the most care you could muster. When you don’t hear any commotions, that gives you the go ahead to run down the street to the large van that sticks out, headlights on as it sits idly.
You peer up at him through the passenger window, waving as he unlocks it for you. The lopsided smile on his face starts that heat up again, like he turns on burners all over your body at will. The door shuts behind you, and you smile up at him shyly when he turns down the music.
“You look…wow.” He compliments you, watching the way your eyes look up at him, that beautiful shine.
You assess his outfit, a leather jacket worn with a graphic t-shirt and jeans with rips at the knee. He looked casual, but damn fine regardless. Him losing his metal accessories and devil-may-care look probably would’ve disappointed you, anyway. “So do you.” You offer back, taking in the way he looks as he starts his van and pulls out.
“Thanks.” He winks, turning at a traffic intersection. “So, there are several places we can go, the movies, Hal’s Diner, Benny’s Burgers, bowling alley, the Drive In, up to you, sweetheart.” He insists, driving his van around the small town.
The only thing you want at the current moment is to be in close quarters with him, with the need to kiss him crazy, a need you’ve experienced far too much this quickly. There’s only one thing that allows that. “Drive in.” You decide, the prospect of those same close quarters sending a thrill down your spine.
Eddie signals left, the drive-in location the opposite way from where he’s been driving. “Sounds good, love.”
Eddie doesn’t ignore the way you subtly avoid eye contact from him, shyly looking at your near bare thighs. By the way, were you trying to get a rise out of him with this wonderfully slinky dress you’re wearing? The moment you crawled into his van he was overthrown by your sweet perfume and the way your dress smooths over your gorgeous curves. It’s too hard, impossibly hard, to resist leaning in for your sweet scent, to nuzzle his nose in your neck. The idea that you don’t want to leave the intimacy of the van any more than he does is enough to bring the urge to readjust the crotch of his jeans.
By the time he pulls up into the far corner of the lot, turning on his radio so it connects with the movie mid-beginning credit scene, you take in the sparce parking lot, only a few vehicles spread apart sporadically. Well, you wanted intimate. You wanted close, now you've got it. His freshly showered self with the mix of his cologne just adding fuel to the ever-increasing fire.
This fire suddenly sends the need to squeeze your legs together, not completely understanding the feeling, but there’s an inkling. An instinct that on some level you know what it is, but no one ever warned you it could be this intense.
The first act of the movie is shared by you and Eddie laughing at the same jokes together, grabbing candy from his hands when he offers it. You sip on a straw in a glass coke bottle, if only to calm the nerves combined with heat that has completely overshadowed any sense you seem to have. Eddie leans back comfortably in his fabric covered seat, a hand landing on your bare thigh.
Oh, that turned up the heat several notches. It starts to become clearer that this heat is what can now be more clearly defined as a want. A want for…more of his hands, further up, him, close to you. Closer.
As your thighs tense and clench under his touch, Eddie can’t hold back any more like he planned. His other hand is tucked under your chin, lifting your big eyes to look up at his. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, your mouth parting as you look up at him with stars in your eyes. “Can I?”
Your eyebrows furrow, breath stuttering as you peer up at him. You nod your head, glancing at his shiny pink lips. Every inch of air is tugged from your lungs as he leans forward, lips open as he places them on yours.
Eddie had every intention of kissing you delicately, the way he knows you deserve to be kissed, gently and patiently. As soon as the whimper leaves your throat and vibrates into his mouth, he forgets his good intentions. The kiss turns dirty, fast, the pressure of his spread hand increasing in the best fucking way, making your body fold involuntarily towards him.
Just when you’re enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours, mewling pathetically against his lips, Eddie starts to kiss down your throat. You sigh, leaning back as that heat finally gains a resolve. Oh, god you're horny. Is that what that is? No wonder teenage boys are such perverts.
The combination of teeth and tongue is everything you needed and more; every muscle feeling like jelly as his lips and hands work like magic over you. Eddie licks a strip up to your ear, a startled and blissful moan filling up the car. He skips right past the pleasantries, past any inclination that you were anything other than wild for eachother. “You ever touch yourself, sweetheart?”
Only God knows why, but the dirty sentence just makes you hungrier for him, more eager. However, the answer to that jarring question is an honest and stuttered, “No.”
Eddie separates from you, giving you a look, you can’t quite place. “Wait, really?” You confirm it, breathing heavily, gasping as his eyes visibly darken. “So, you’ve never cum before?”
The sentence makes your eyes widen, gulping at that gorgeous face of his. You think you know what he means, but you still need clarification.
“Orgasm, princess. Have you ever had an orgasm?” He asks, a hand placed on your cheek as he watches your reaction.
Oh. That’s what you thought. That’s an absolute and definitive, “No.”
His fingers increase their pressure, a reflex of from his reaction. God, you’re more innocent than he even knew. The idea of even teaching you what it means to get off sends a swoop through his gut, picturing you looking at him with those wide eyes as he corrupts you.
God, does he want to corrupt you. He wants to corrupt every inch of you, turn you into someone who begs him to skip class so you can guzzle on his cock. The way you stare up at him waiting for a response, eyes glazed over as you wait for him to continue kissing you, as if you don’t even remember you’re at a drive in to begin with.
His cock has never hurt so much from the blood pulsing through it, probably an angry red at this point.
“Can I give you one?” He asks, thumb starting to rub on your bottom lip again.
“An-an orgasm?” You stutter, voice squeaking through the question. He’s gorgeous, the way he stares down at you, those same chocolate brown eyes making that heat pool. Despite the fear, the arousal is greater. “Uh, sure.”
He smirks, watching your eyes dart back and forth nervously. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” You confirm, pulling him for the kiss you so desperately crave. You weren’t sure how it happens, your hands having a damn mind of their own. Despite him pulling away, he slips back into the kiss easily, the hand on your thigh and hand on your face making you feel dizzy.
You’ve had kisses before, but you knew you were missing something in them. At last, you’ve found it, desperately clinging onto his kiss. God, he’s good at making you turn into mush, relaxing into his seats almost completely.
His hand inches up your thigh, waiting for you to protest. Your breath hitches as he gets closer and closer. “I'm gonna make you feel so good.” He promises, his hot breath turning you into a liquid. Finally, his hand lands on the cotton of your underwear, his strokes tugging mewls into his open mouth. “Shit, you’re soaked, baby. You even know how much you want me? Probably confusing, hmm?”
He puts pressure at the top, rubbing small circles and it feels like fire is set to your center, gasping as your concentration falls apart. His fingers feel good, in a way you didn’t think was possible. Words in your mind echo the thought of how damn good he feels, mouth attempting to tell him, but nothing comes out but wanton gasps.
Eddie watches you wither in his chair, legs opening for him. Sure, giving you an orgasm is a fierce turn on, but knowing you’ve never experienced any type of pleasure or want is sent straight to his cock. He remembers learning how good it felt to start rubbing his cock when it got hard, how often he started doing it when he realized it led to something.
All he wants to do is turn you into a pervert, one orgasm at a time.
That same warmth that’s made home in your gut starts to build, your thighs tensing up when it occurs to you what its building to. “Fuck.” You gasp, Eddie humming at the swear that leaves your lips. “Close, and I haven’t even really touched you, hmm?” He muses, lips starting to add a second sensation on your neck with his hot and wet tongue.
He pushes your underwear aside, fingers finally making direct contact with the wet slick of your folds. “Eddie.” You gasp. The skin on skin makes your head spin, clutching onto his leather jacket with desire. The pleasure jumps up thirty notches, that build reaching an all-time high. Nothing has ever felt better, never so fantastic. Again, now you understand why teenagers are such perverts.
“Let me see you cum, I can feel it coming, baby.” He whispers, licking his lips.
He slides a finger deep in you, the sudden intrusion alien but welcome. On the edge, you become even more completely desperate for him. How was his finger even better? How was that possible? The feat thrills you, happily and willingly giving into everything he gives you. “Damn. Baby. You look so fucking good, think you can cum for me?”
His fingers hook within you, and it pushes you over the edge you’ve been staring down, stars invading your vision, the heat you’ve felt everywhere, all at once. Your tight entrance pulses around his fingers, twitching, not aware of the loud, whiny moans that Eddie’s sure the concession stand less than twenty feet away can hear, but he’s proud of it, grinning maniacally at his hard work.
He guides you through it, thrusting his fingers as he watches you come apart under his touch. When you stop shaking, his hand rubs your pussy gently, admiring the slick that is now pooled down your thighs and even onto his chair. He smirks, catching your eye when they finally open to face him. “How’re you doing, love?”
You forget to be shy in your smile, grinning maniacally as you grab him, yanking him in for a hot, wet kiss. It’s even dirtier than before, attempting to show him how grateful you feel for his magical fingers. “That was…so…good.” You mumble, smiling wider when you can feel him do the same.
“Feels good, hmm?” He asks, his fingers still stroking you gently.
“Jesus.” You answer, thighs convulsing involuntarily.
Eddie chuckles, amused that it takes you cumming to cum out of your shell. “You’re pretty like this, you know?” You roll your eyes, and he can feel the dismissal of his compliment. “Can I eat you out, baby?” It shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but it is. You barely know any of this terminology, and he can feel you tense up below him, your once liquid limbs turning to steel. “You have no idea what that means, do you, baby?”
You shake your head, gulping in the embarrassment.
“That’s ok. Of course, I don’t mind helping you.” Eddie doesn’t mind. When he says that he’s under exaggerating, not showing an ounce of his true feelings. How much does it take for you to squirm under his dirty words? How much patience does he have before he begs you to let him shove his hardened cock down your throat. How long will it be until you’re riding him like a porn star? If he was even slightly sleezier, he’d bet on it with someone. “I’d make that pretty pussy feel even better with my tongue.”
Oh. That sounds miles better than anything your brain could’ve come up with. You bite your lip, staring up at him with pure want. “You’d do that?”
“If you’re willing to come into the back with me.” He muses, nodding his head to his elongated trunk. You turn your head, facing a fleece blanket placed on the floor of the van with a few pillows. Did he do this for you, or is it always this nice?
Eddie doesn’t think you can get any cuter, but when you nod excitedly, starting to crawl into the back before he can say anything, he’s proven dead wrong. He’s never been so happy to be wrong. As you crawl, he watches your ass, your underwear still pulled to the side as the shine on your folds is still visible in the light of the movie.
He smiles, crawling as soon as you land awkwardly on the floor of the van. You sit cross legged waiting for him, one spaghetti strap fallen off your shoulder as you bite your lip anxiously. It doesn’t help Eddie that the strap on your shoulder starts to reveal a breast, just peeking at the top of the nipple. He’s barely seen you, just at the tip of the iceberg of touching you, and he’s about to pop from the anticipation.
How are you doing this to him so easily?
Eddie leans in for a kiss, something as soft as he wanted to give you the moment he saw you sitting in the desk next to his, but his hormones got the worst of him. He kisses each bare shoulder, admiring the way you relax into it. His long fingers reach to the already fallen strap, fingers brushing as he tugs it down further, fully exposing the partially exposed tit. Your heart races, loud, too loud, in your temple and you wonder if he can hear it.
Eddie can’t, as heartbeats are usually inaudible to the naked ear. He can hear, however, the way those sweet breaths get louder, faster, and even more utterly pathetic for him. Eddie feels a goal take over his mind like a parasite, one he welcomes with a bed made. He plans to make you moan and whine louder so that everyone within ten miles can hear how good you feel, what a good whore you are—he’s getting ahead of himself.
Right now, he focuses on making you feel comfortable, helping you become at ease so you will never be self-conscious with him, never afraid of being too loud, or too eager. He can’t imagine ever thinking otherwise with you. He thought he knew the definition of impossible, but now he knows he had no clue.
Every sensible, distinguishable thought has left your brain, too focused on how good his tongue and teeth feel as he expertly works on your beaded nipple. His brain is going a million miles per hour, yours left behind in the middle of a desert. His hand guides the other strap down your shoulder, fully exposing your chest, the soft material falling so it sits wrapped around your hips.
Teeth scrape against the curve of your breast, as if his tongue is attempting to taste every inch, every centimetre of it. One hand smoothing the skin just below them. Wet kisses trail down your torso, tongue dipping into your navel, the sweet swell of your stomach, his dull nails digging into your soft flesh, the pain adding to the beauty of the mixed sensations.
Your pussy is raging in fire, shouting for the same attention he had been so generous at providing. He feels your thighs tensing, attempting to provide friction for yourself where you need it the most. “Does it hurt, baby?” He asks, mouth now at the base of your neck. “Does that sweet pussy hurt for it?” You nod, rubbing your thighs like a damn cricket. “Oh, I know, I’ll make it all feel better, don’t you worry.”
He admires your face, the way your eyes are closed with the muscles beautifully crumpled up.
“Lie down for me, and I’ll eat that fucking pretty pussy.” Without hesitation, you lay down, shifting your body so you can lie comfortably on the floor of the van.
When you do, his hands tug at the fabric around your waist, not pulling it off you, just clutching it like a vice. They slink under it, fingers tight on the waistband on your panties as he pulls them down your legs. As they leave your feet, pulling them around your heels, Eddie stares at the drenched middle, fingers playing with the thick slick that had gathered. Eddie seems to have a talent for stealing the air from your lungs, doing so as you watch him taste them. “Taste so fucking good, sweets.” He makes a show of placing them into his back pocket, shooting a wink when you give him a questioning look.
He adjusts himself onto his forearms, both hands landing on the top of your thighs as his head dives in between them. Your thigh muscles tense in his hold, begging him for mercy, any kind. “Eddie…please…I need…I need—”
He chuckles, bending over your wanton body. “I love how you say my name, but I’m gonna make you scream it.” He mutters, the scent of your arousal making his vision fizzle.
Finally, finally, his tongue touches you, relishing in the immediate whine that leaves your lips. He hums against you, enjoying the way your legs move restlessly. The first touches are so delicate, your heels digging in his (still) clothed back and grinding your hips to force more contact. “That’s a girl, take what you want from me.” He praises you, hand stroking your thigh gently.
The simple instruction drives your hips to grind more, Eddie’s tongue licking up your slick folds harder in response. At this point, fire isn’t a hot enough word to describe the heat in your pussy. Eddie starts to focus on your clit, his ears suddenly muffled by your thighs abruptly closing on his head. He starts a rhythm, switching back and forth, listening to how your sweet whines answer him.
Any thoughts occurring in your head are long gone, all out of your mouth before your brain even knows you’re thinking it. You wonder how you didn’t think of this, ‘how the first thing you thought when you saw Eddie not how good he would look between your legs’?
Answer: the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life. (Spoiler, there will be better things.)
Eddie is more than happy to play with you, to listen how you react to every touch he provides. So far, his favourite sound is when his tongue enters your sopping hole, fucking it gloriously. It was the first truly uninhibited sound he managed to pull from you. Every decision he made for you was purposeful, doing his damn best to send you over the edge again. He wonders how willing he is to put off his own pleasure for the sake of yours.
Honestly, to hear you come apart repeatedly is 1000% worth it to him, even if he has to rut against the floor of the van.
“Cl-close, Eddie.” You tell him, that sudden ending sneaking up on you. “So, so, so, so, good!”
Eddie takes your admission with pride, and as the stars invade your vision, your every limb tensing as you cum, he keeps going.
In your post orgasm haze, the over sensitivity of your pussy is overwhelming. However, his continuing and relentless mouth feels so good you relish in it, absolutely sure your legs will be sore from the constant convulsing. You whimper through a hushed and delayed swear, your hands weaving through his curls and tugging on his scalp.
His thumb meets your clit, rubbing feverishly and driving another orgasm out of you faster than you ever expected. His name is music to his ears as you shout it when the orgasm takes over you. “Fuck, Eddie, mouth feels…ah!”
His brown eyes open, nose nuzzling your clit as he stares at you through those darkened eyes. His tongue licks a long stripe, chin resting the mound of your pubic bone. “Think you can handle a few more?”
Your chest heaves, struggling to catch your breath as you lift your head up to face him. Your head feels like a weight, too heavy on your neck. Your mouth opens to answer him, but the weight of your head wins, landing back on the van.
Eddie works your clit again, watching your breasts move up and down as you struggle to catch your breath. “Maybe not that many more, hmm? Maybe just one?” …if he’s strong enough to hold back from giving you two.
Stopping at this point would give you a break you need, but at the same time you can’t bear to, Eddie’s tongue acting as a siren’s song. You’re hypnotized by him. “More, please. Please keep going.”
“I love hearing your voice beg for me. Your whimpers are the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life, sweets.”
Eddie dives in again, your choked whimpers telling any near neighbors that you simply don’t remember they exist. They’re not important enough to care about anymore.
As much as you are sensitive to every single touch, even over-stimulated, you welcome the next three orgasms he gives you. At the end of your third, or sixth, orgasm, Eddie rests his chin on your mound again, staring up at you as you recollect yourself. He’s patient, watching the light making its way back into your eyes.
Eddie nearly asks you a question, when your hand reaches out to grab him by his leather collar. He lets out a yelp of surprise, his fully clothed form an odd juxtaposition against your completely naked one. Well, save for the dress still on your waist. Your lips meet, tongues gliding against each other beautifully, and you taste yourself in his mouth. Even with your brain as foggy as it is, your body feeling as weak as it does, the number one thing you can focus on is getting those clothes off him.
Your hands fidget on the harsh leather collar, forcing it off his back. “Take it off,” you tell him, Eddie grinning cheekily in response. As soon as his jacket is off, you feel the graphic shirt start to come off with it. The reveal of his patched treasure trail, his bare skin against yours a marvel of sensations. You become impatient, attempting to hurry the process of taking his shirt off.
A symphony of laughter leaves his lips as his shirt finally is tossed off to the side, watching your eyes marvel at his tattoo littered chest. Your tits pressed against him pulls a groan from his lips, a sound that drives your legs to tug his tented jeans down against your bare pussy. If you thought his tongue felt good, it’s nothing compared to his hips against yours.
His voice is strained, dripping in husk. “Sh-shit, doll. I-I need you. Need to feel that virgin pussy wrapped around my cock. Need it so bad, please.”
Eddie begging like this being such a turn on is a surprise, to say the least. And from the pleasure he gave you, you’re willing him to do whatever he wants to you.
Whatever. He wants.
“Really? You want me?” You ask, whining as he ruts again.
“Desperately.”
Your hand moves down to the button of his jeans, undoing it with shaky hands and even shakier breathing. “You gonna take my virginity, Eddie?”
Somehow you knew this would make him crazy. You enjoyed it, enjoyed the crazy, adored his moan in approval. “I’m gonna take you, baby.” He grunts, starting to move his jeans down his ass, legs, taking his briefs with them.
He’s quick about it, tongue against your skin as he grabs the dress around your waist and slowly drags it down your legs, tongue dragging down along with it. Slyly, he holds a condom from his pants pockets between two fingers. “You ready?”
You bite your lip, making the bottom lip swell from the constant fidgeting. “I’m on birth control…” you admit, only on it to regulate a heavy flow.
He makes a show of tossing the condom over his shoulder, grinning at his crazy eyes. “Well, shit, darling.” He leans in, feeling the size of him as it brushes against your hip. He’s big, right? “Before I enter that pussy, I need you to do me a favour.”
“Hmm?” You ask, the only thing in your mind is how good his bulge felt when it rutted up against your heat. If that felt that good? Sex with Eddie…your mind goes dizzy from the need.
Eddie takes your hand resting by your head, wrapping it around his hardened length. The moan that leaves his lips is deep and rough. Your unsure fingers allow him to assist you, getting a hold of the rhythm. When you do, he lets you take over, face falling in your neck when your grip tightens. “Okay, I can’t take it any longer.” He whispers, gentle, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Here, help me, will you?”
You don’t ask, only because you don’t have the chance to, when his hips help you brush the head of his cock against your wet entrance. You tease the two of you simultaneously, brushing it numerous times, both of you gasping in harmony. “Oh, you little tease.”
His hand replaces yours, whining as the head finally, finally brushes into your entrance. “Eddie.” You whisper, clinging onto him desperately. “S-so, so, so full.”
“Yeah?” He asks, both winded by the feel of you and by the blissed look on your face. Maybe if he kisses the middle of your eyebrow enough, he can settle every wrinkle you demonstrate from the pain beautifully mixed with pleasure. “Look at you, so drunk on it, did you ever think a cock could make you feel this good? Ever think how much you could want to be fucked so desperately?”
You shake your head, drunk on his words, drunk on his cock. “More, please.”
“Think you can take it?”
You whine impatiently, legs attempting to pull him in harder. “Eddie.”
He smiles as you fall into his trap, pushing in more than he knows he should. He can’t help it, the smile that takes over your face is the perfect reward. “I thought you were shy?”
You roll your eyes, knowing when someone is this close to you, has seen this much of you, there is barely any time to be shy. “Shut up.”
He listens, kissing you deeply as his hips start to move. Your hand weaves itself into his hair, whimpering into his ear as he hits, deeper, harder.
You can’t fully understand the sounds coming out of his mouth, the once coherent, cocky sentences turn into mumbled groans, and it’s refreshing to know he seems to want you as you did him, craved for you the same way. A string of words on repeat come from your mouth, just his name.
The only thing you seem to be able to think of is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, EddieEddieEddieEddie…
“God, your tight pussy, I’m gonna cum soon…” At least, that’s what you think he says. “Gonna fill you up…” You tighten around him, enjoying the prospect of it. “Gonna see it dripping out of you.”
He doesn’t know how it’s possible you tighten around him more.
“God, you take me so well, it’s like you were made for me, made for my cock.”
Head? Empty. Cunt? Full.
Him? Perfect.
“Fill me up, please.”
“Listen to those dirty little words, gonna turn you into a filthy whore.” He whispers, whining together with you in bliss as his hips rut a final, harsh, jagged time.
Time seems to be endless, as he whispers in your ear, hands on his broad back when he settles, keeping his cock warm. Time is so endless; you don’t even notice the movie turning off and the subtle turnover of engines and wheels driving off past the van.
It takes a poor teenage employee to knock on the van doors, politely asking if you could leave because the drive-in is closed, and they need to lock the gate.
To say the way you avoid their eyes after hurriedly putting your dress back on turns Eddie on would be an understatement.
To say when you waltz with him hand in hand down the hallways the next day turns into a sideshow, would be an even bigger understatement.
You sit on his lap during lunch, curious to the reaction of the other boys sitting with him. When Eddie slips his hand under your skirt and plays with your clothed cunt, he knows he’s just starting to corrupt you as you attempt to seem normal.
He’s just getting started.
-
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#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader smut
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Yes, absolutely! So. Eddie x FemReader. They are best friends and have this special bond but all of a sudden Eddie pushes her aside for another girl he's dating or is interested in, letting her sit in the reader's seat, canceling traditions of years like movie night, etc. But somehow he wakes up and realizes he has been an ass to her (maybe because he actually wanted to get over his own feelings for her) but the reader isn't so quick to let it all go - she wants him to prove how sorry he is!
Jealousy, Jealousy
📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests are open!
thanks for the request, bestie! and an even bigger thanks for your patience 😬 i hope you enjoy!
Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader
Comments likes and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think 💖
Warnings: mostly just language and a little drama and angst and then fluff I think but let me know if I missed anything. I've always wanted to play around with POV switches like this, which is probably why it's taken me so long to finish this one 🙄
You're fuming in the front seat.
Eddie keeps his eyes on the road—more than he probably ever has while driving—afraid that if he even glances in your direction all the smoke you're letting off will start to fog up the windshield. Like he's driving around with a forest fire in his van.
"Listen," he says, even though he's not sure what's going to come after, "it's not even a big deal."
They're the first words out of his mouth since he told you, and they're definitely the wrong ones. Your eyes flash, smoldering at the center like cigarette ends.
Your look may be fire, but your voice is all ice.
"To you."
"What?"
"It's not that big of a deal to you, Eddie," you tell him, shifting against the dirty leather seat like you can't even stand to be near him, "but it is a big deal to me."
Valerie fucking Reed—just thinking her name has you seeing blood. Everything about her puts the wrath of god in you, from the fake-ass pitch of her voice to the way she flips her hair over her shoulder whenever she thinks she's said something clever.
You'd hated her from the moment you'd met her, after the painfully cliche the freaks sit over there cafeteria routine she'd put on for you your very first day in Hawkins. You were more prepared for that shit now—had educated yourself in the art of biting comebacks and fought only with words even when you wanted nothing more than to bash her head into the linoleum tile.
But at a brand new school when you were desperate to make friends? Absolutely devastating.
If you were held at gunpoint and forced to say one honest, nice thing about her, there'd only be one you could offer up: it was her fault you'd met Eddie. With tears still stinging in your eyes, you'd carried your lunch tray in the direction of her pointed finger, falling into the nearest empty chair and tucking your chin into your chest so no one would see you cry.
That was when Eddie swooped in, big doe eyes and denim vest rattling with pins, and a thousand stupid jokes—not exactly a knight in shining armor but you'd never wanted one of those anyway.
Now Valerie wants to take him away from you, too.
Eddie drums his hands on the wheel, fidgeting with the volume on the tape he'd let you choose to soften the blow. He let's Fleetwood Mac fill the empty space between you, all the words he should say replaced with Stevie's soft vocals.
He's not used to fighting with you. Your friendship has always been as easy as breathing—except when it's not.
. . . But you really can't be blamed for that. It's not your fault he feels all weird inside every time you smile.
He wishes you'd smile at him now.
"You know," you say, feet planted on his dash and your chair pushed all the way back, "I didn't say shit when you started ditching me at lunch to deal to her and her friends, or when you skipped on movie nights for all those parties she threw because I get why you had to go, but a fucking date?"
"She just needs a place to smoke . . ." Eddie mumbles, skin hot at the word date.
You roll your eyes with enough bite he actually feels the sting.
"Right. She just needs to get high with you at your place, because she has nowhere else to go.”
Your lips drip with venomous sarcasm—absolutely soaked through with the belief that he couldn't possibly sit in the same room as Valerie and not touch her.
Do you really have so little faith in him? Eddie's got way more self-control than either of you would give him credit for. There's never been a moment he hasn't wanted his hands on you, and he's alone with you all the time.
“Come on,” he says, swallowing so his voice won't crack, “we do that.”
“It’s different," you snap back quickly.
Yeah it fucking is, he thinks, but Eddie doesn't say a word. Maybe the silence will speak for itself—or maybe it could, if you'd let it.
You carve a frustrated hand through your hair, staring him down. “Like, how do you think it would feel for you if I went out with fucking Jason Carver?"
He resists the urge to gag. "It's not like that."
It's really not like that. Just the thought of it has Eddie feeling both sick and violent, unsure if he was more likely to throw a punch or throw up.
He takes the turn into your driveway, watching you collect your stuff with a brutal speed.
"Yes it is, Eddie," you tell him as you slide from your seat before he's even fully hit the breaks, "actually, it's worse. Because Jason is a dick to everybody, and Valerie's got some fucking target on my back. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all part of some evil plan of hers to make me jealous because—"
You cut yourself off immediately, words stoppered by some invisible dam, eyes wide. Eddie's body goes cold when you slam the door without saying goodbye, stomping off to your doorstep.
He scrambles for his seat belt, practically falling out of the van in attempt to catch up to you before you get inside.
"Wait a second," Eddie says, holding the door open with his hand and trying to catch his breath, "why would that make you jealous?"
You scuff the toe of your boot against the step. "Nothing, it's stupid."
Eddie raises a brow, but you can’t look at his big, brown, beautiful eyes right now, tracing down along his leather sleeve to where his hand is planted against the door, black-painted nails splayed wide and already chipping, although you only did them a few nights ago.
Rude that the only time you get to hold him is when you're doing him a favor.
"Stupid how?" he asks.
You shrug. "I dunno . . . she just thinks I have a crush on you or something."
It's a surprise he hadn't already heard; about half of the girl's locker room were still stripping out of their gym clothes when Valerie had to bring everybody's attention to your black lace bra, before sharing a few theories on who you were wearing it for.
"Like I said, stupid." You ignore the heat in your cheeks, gripping the door again and trying to force it shut, but Eddie's not finished.
You wouldn’t notice, but his chest is heaving under his black t-shirt, palm sweating against the door. A crush? On him?
Is Valerie as delusional as he is?
"Wait," —his mouth is on a roll before his brain has caught up— "do- do you?"
Your eyes go wide with surprise, and then shrink into slits as you push him back from the door, one hot hand planted against his chest.
"Fuck you, Eddie," —he catches the words just before the slam— "fuck you for real."
It wasn't a no.
He repeats the words in his mind like he’s casting a protection spell. Like it’s some kind of ward against your anger as he scales the tree outside your window.
It’s harder than it looks, and he’s already making it look pretty difficult—but one hand’s busy clinging to the greasy paper bag packed full with burgers and those crispy tater tots you love. He manages to wiggle his way up to your window sill without losing his pants, even though the tears at his knees got caught on every twig and branch he passed.
Eddie steals a glance of you through the sheer curtains, holding back his fist from knocking. Just so he can look at you properly, without all the static of having you look back.
You're stretched out on your bed, feet in the air and headphones caught over your ears while you flip through the pages of a book. He hasn't seen these pajamas before—the little shorts that just cup the edge of your ass, and a sheer tank top. His nails are leaving little indents in his palm.
Eddie hasn't made a sound, but with the way his eyes are tracing over you, you gotta feel it. You find him at the window, and he panics, rapping his knuckles against the glass a second too late.
You roll you eyes at him, but at least you let him in.
There are honest-to-god butterflies in Eddie's stomach when he flops beside you on the bed. And he wouldn't lie—at least not to himself—but he'd tried to feel something like this before, when Valerie first started paying all that attention to him.
Her manicured hand would brush over the sleeve of his jacket while he'd be getting her product and he'd wait for this same feeling, hoping he had a weakness for all pretty girls, that any attention would him stumbling over his words and these feelings didn't have to be the end of the best friendship he'd ever had.
But it's you.
You cross your arms over your chest, frowning. "What are you doing here?"
Eddie's smile is sheepish, but not nearly apologetic enough for your taste. He holds up the paper bag in his hand, dotted with dark splotches where the grease leaked through. It lets out the heavenly scent of fried food.
"I brought dinner, you know, for movie night."
He slips a tray of tater tots from the bag, and you're resolve falters. You hold back your hand from reaching for one even though you already know how incredible it would taste, the little rivulets of salt and shining grease coating the golden skin.
"What about Valerie?" you ask, stealing your eyes away from the junk food. You hate how petulant your voice sounds.
He just shrugs, pouring out some ketchup onto the tray, licking the excess off of his pinky finger. "Told her I had other plans."
Eddie pops a tater tot into his mouth and bites down with a heavy crunch, but it feels like your heart's the thing being popped between his teeth.
And what more were you expecting? That he'd tell her to fuck off and take her money and friends with her? She's the queen of Hawkins, and you're . . . not.
Maybe you and Eddie are both delusional—or stubborn—enough to pretend like you don't care about the politics of high school, but people had abandoned their morals for less.
“So you blew both of us off, then?”
He pauses mid-bite, like a prey animal, like if he doesn’t move you can’t be mad at him.
“What?” he mumbles through a mouthful of chewed-up potatoes.
You snatch a tater tot from the tray, chewing and swallowing even though your stomach is starting to churn because something bad is going to happen and you can feel it coming like a storm in the air.
“Why are you here, Eddie?”
“I- uh, to say sorry,” he stutters.
The food's getting cold in his hands before you respond.
“What’re you sorry for?”
What’s he sorry for? Eddie has a whole list: sorry for making a fool of myself, sorry for hanging out with Valerie because I thought it might make you jealous, sorry sorry sorry for trying so hard to get over you and doing such a bad job at it.
“I, you know . . . I shouldn’t have made other plans on movie night.”
Those were the wrong words again. Crazy how easy it is for him to fuck this up—like it was something he was born with.
For a second, Eddie thinks you'll yell at him, and he's comforted by that. If you yell at him, you still care.
You take in a deep breath, and Eddie braces himself. He can take whatever you give him, will shoulder any insults you hurl and forgive you for it the second it's over.
But your shoulders slump. You let out a heavy sigh.
And he knows he can't take that.
"I'm really, really tired, Eddie," —you won't even look him in the eyes when you say it, sliding the window open again,—"see you tomorrow?"
But Eddie doesn't see you for two whole days.
That's a fucking record.
He thought you might need space, you know. So he gave you Saturday to cool off, kicked around at the trailer and gave Wayne vague answers about why you weren't around and ignoring the look in the old man's eyes. Listening to sad records and getting high and trying not to stare at your smile in all the photos plastered on his wall.
Sunday, Eddie drove by your house with the volume all the way up on your favorite Rolling Stones album, windows down while he idled at the curb. There was a twitch in the curtains, but you weren't there to shout at him for all the noise before climbing in on the passenger side.
Eddie knocked at your door this morning, hoping at least you’d want a ride to school. Your mom opened it with a sad little frown, telling him you’d already taken your bike.
And really, the two days have only ended on a technicality. Eddie sees you right now, reading a book with your head bent low, sitting at the far end of another table.
"Hey—" Eddie twitches when the flying french fry lands against his cheek with a wet slap— "are you gonna go talk to her, or did you just wanna stare?"
Mike laughs at his own joke, and the other guys giggles along.
Eddie's used to the ribbing. He's never minded it—when you're not around. Kind of enjoyed it a little. Even with his heated cheeks and stammered shut ups that completely gave him away, he needed somebody to acknowledge what he was feeling. It made it more real.
But Eddie's not in the mood for jokes today. And he doesn't need anybody to remind him that he's in way over his head with you.
He shoots the freshmen a look that works just as well as throwing a hand over their mouths—without the risk of being licked—and brushes the potato chunks from his hair while the rest of Hellfire pick timidly at their lunches.
And Eddie goes back to staring.
This time, though, you're staring back.
He meets your eyes. Just for a second, wide with surprise before you snap your head back in the direction of your book, tucking your nose between the pages. Doesn't matter how quick you were though. Eddie caught the look you were giving him.
And his heart is beating hard, like it did on the day he first met you. His limbs all staticky and weird, palms sweating because even from the first second he knew you existed he's wondered what kissing you would feel like and the question never left his head.
Eddie's on his feet before he can think about how bad of an idea this is.
"Hey," Dustin calls to him through a mouthful of square pizza, "what're you doing?"
Eddie just shrugs.
"Probably something stupid."
You can see Eddie's long legs moving in your direction from the corner of your eye, and your stomach drops out of your ass like a dip on a roller coaster in the dark and you can't see the end. He says something to the guys—his lips are moving—but you can't make it out over the sound of the cafeteria rumble, the chatter of the other girls sitting at the same table as you, talking animatedly about all the dates they went on over the weekend and completely ignoring your presence.
You dip your head closer to the pages of your book, so close all the words blur together, trying to hide from Eddie like you've been hiding the past few days. You shouldn't have even glanced in his direction, should have let the burn of his presence so close and still too far away swallow you up.
It’s getting hotter with every step he takes toward you, and you’re getting smaller, body tight and your lips caught between your teeth.
He slides quietly into the seat beside you, fingers drumming against the table, and the sound feels louder now that the girls have quieted down, not-so-sneakily listening in on whatever's about to go down between you and Eddie—hungry like sharks for any new gossip, ready to spread the nitty-gritty about why the freaks are fighting.
Eddie dips his head down, eyes big and already so sorry it feels like a punch to the gut.
"Hey," he whispers, trying to smile and failing miserably, "come here often?"
You try to smile back, but it's not much better. "Hey, Eds."
It's quiet, but not the comfortable kind of quiet you're used to around Eddie. It's a hot and sweaty quiet, a trapped-in-a-car kind of summer burn that makes your lungs go shallow.
Eddie perks up, the first words he can think of spilling out of his mouth.
"The guys were thinking about going to the record store after school. Would you wanna come?"
You wouldn't have thought for a second about refusing an invite like that a week ago. Heaven was nothing compared to wandering around a music store with Eddie.
"I don't know if I can today," you say instead, and then when you see the look of hurt on his face, you soften the blow with, "I gotta go to the library for some . . . stuff."
He hums. "Stuff?"
You shrug, playing with the pages of your book. If you're quiet enough, maybe he'll give up.
But he doesn't go anywhere. His hands stay planted on the table, silent and still for once. The black nail polish is almost completely chipped off his nails—probably picked off and littered all over the linoleum.
Eddie's voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence. "Are we gonna talk about it?"
"About what, Eds?"
"Why you're so mad at me . . ."
You've seen Eddie through a lot of shit, but you've never seen a look like this on him—eyes like saucers and brimming with shiny tears.
And you thought being in love with him was rough, but hurting him is a thousand times worse.
"I'm not mad at you, Eddie," you admit, hiding your eyes in the palms of your hands and pressing down until you see stars, "it's just . . ."
You don't get to finish your sentence.
Valerie's calling Eddie's name from across the whole fucking cafeteria. You watch her waving, standing on her tip-toes like she's not the only place in the room anybody can look, like every facet of her doesn't already scream give me attention!
Eddie sandwiches his lips together, pressing until they turn white. You're not going to like whatever he has to say next.
So you slip the dagger from his fingers, standing from the table. He can't hurt you if you hurt yourself first on his behalf.
"Actually, we can talk about this later," you tell him, slipping your bag on over your shoulder.
"Hey—"
There's sparks in your hand where he holds you, an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. It's just your hand in his, but that's all it takes for you to forget yourself, eyes caught on his soft mouth and pink tongue.
Valerie's approaching. You can see her stalking toward you over Eddie's shoulder. There's no room for vulnerability within a mile radius of her. You've got to get away before she sees all the softest parts of you exposed and decides to go for the jugular.
The door's within reach when the room goes quiet. Quiet enough Eddie doesn't even have to raise his voice when he says your name.
He's no stranger to standing on tables, but it's the first time you've seen him look so awkward, hands swinging at his sides in tight fists.
"I- I think I might be in love with you," Eddie says, "and I'm really, really sorry."
There's a chorus of ooooooooooohs from the audience, and maybe a few confused whispers from all the people who passively assumed you were already dating. Then all eyes are on you, waiting.
It's too fucking hot in this room, and your vision's starting to blur at the edges, feeling like you're on a stage and you can't remember the next line after Eddie's verbal punch to your gut.
You mumble a sound, falling backwards through the door and into the safety of the hallway.
Eddie's down off the table as soon as you disappear from the cafeteria, totally ignorant to the laughter and the jeers from all the dickheads watching.
Valerie's in his line of sight when he hits the ground.
"That was weird," she says, and Eddie can't tell if she's purposefully getting in his way, or if she's just got that aura of somebody who could tackle you to the ground but would never bother because she doesn't have to. "I mean I always knew she was a freak but—"
"Fuck off."
Eddie really would like to get into it more with her, maybe mention that he's been up-charging Valerie every time she mentioned your name, or that half the stuff he's been selling her was mixed with ten-year old spices from the cupboard above the oven.
There's more noise, but nobody else trying to get in his way, the path clear all the way to the door.
It's quiet in the hallway, and that alone leaves Eddie disoriented, swinging his head wildly, unsure which way you went.
"I'm down here."
You're on the floor a few feet away, head rested back against one of the lockers, and all of the bad shit goes away. It's that simple—like a light-switch—Eddie's panicked, and then he's not.
You're looking up at him with a soft kind of smile, despite the tight look in your eyes and sheen over your skin.
He slides down to the floor, long legs stretched out into the empty hall, shoes leaving little scuff marks across the linoleum.
"I'm sorry,"—you tell him as soon as he hits the ground, "about, you know. It was just, um, a lot."
"Don't be," he laughs, "that wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had."
The smartest idea he ever had was talking to you that first day, snatching you up before anybody else could.
Your tongue snakes out from between your lips, and Eddie has to physically hold himself back from tasting you. Your eyes dropped to his lap, your voice is small when you ask, "did you mean it?"
"Yeah, honey,"—probably should've kept the nickname to himself— "meant every word."
He's about to mumble something like, but if you don't feel the same it's totally fine, even though it definitely wouldn't be, when your head drops onto his shoulder.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know . . . just felt like a personal problem."
You laugh, and the sound shakes through him.
"I dunno, Eds. You being in love with me kinda sounds like something that I'd wanna know."
"I'll keep that in mind, for next time," he whispers. You're looking up at him with those big, soft eyes, breath pillowing against his face.
"It's the same for me," you tell him, "in case you were wondering."
In all the time Eddie's thought about kissing you, he never imagined it happening like this—on the floor with somebody's combination lock digging into his back. With your hands in his hair and the dull roar of the lunchroom somewhere nearby and his thumb tracing along your jaw and you smiling against his lips.
He was definitely missing out.
There's the metal clank of the door, and a chorus of footsteps somewhere down the hall. Eddie recognizes Dustin's voice.
"Oh my god, dude. Fucking finally."
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson angst#eddie munson#requests#my writing#eddie munson fluff
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It's All Greek to Me; a one shot.
🕮 PAIRING: collegetutor!jimin x partygirl!reader
🕮 GENRE: College AU, smut
🕮 WORD COUNT: 4.8k
🕮 WARNINGS: Smut, Smut, Smut
🕮 SUMMARY: After failing your college classes, you need a tutor. But if tutor, why so damn hot?
🕮 AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was originally going to be a full-length fanfic, but I decided to make it a short one. I still may expand on it. Let me know what you guys think. Also, my bestie gave me the idea when she said, "Jimin look like he likes ass." LMAO.
Despite your hatred for hangovers, you always ended up with one.
Today was no exception. As the resident party girl at Loren University, there was no way you would ever miss a weekend rager, but as your alarm clock went off for the fifth time that morning, you began cursing at yourself. Maybe going to a party on a Sunday night wasn’t a good idea.
Scheduling a tutoring session at eight in the morning was an even worse idea.
You had many strong suits, but English wasn’t one of them. It was the one subject you had struggled with since you were in high school. Analyzing the words of dead white men from centuries ago was just about as much fun as watching paint dry. Numbers were much more your thing. They were easy and in the words of Cady Heron, ‘Math was the same in every language.’
But you needed to pass. It’s not as if you were here on your parents’ dime like the other kids. You were a scholarship kid and if your grades slipped, so did you. Out the doors and on your ass. So, when you got your last paper back with a big fat ‘D’ written on it, you knew it was time to take action. And that meant getting a tutor.
You just happened to forget that today, on this bright and early morning, with a pounding headache and dry mouth, you were supposed to be meeting him.
Again, you ask, who the fuck schedules a tutoring session at eight in the morning?
With a groan, you grab your phone, hoping to hit the ‘snooze’ button on your alarm one more time before you really had to get up but when your eyes read the time you realize that it’s damn near eight-thirty. How many times have you hit the snooze button? You wonder but realize you’re only wasting more time. Without a second thought, you hop out of bed and into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and running a comb through your curly hair. Your make-up is smudged, and you still have on the shimmering dress from last night but there’s nothing you can do about it now. You grab a hoodie off your desk chair and hightail it to the school’s library.
.
Inside study room 007, you find a very annoyed, albeit very handsome senior waiting at the table. Laid out in front of him are a stack of books, notebooks, and flash cards. Pens and pencils are lined up neatly in a row. He all but glares at you as enter. Before you can speak, he glances at his watch and then looks back at you. “You’re late.”
“I know,” you say, out of breath. “I got caught up …” you scramble, trying to think of a lie instead of admitting you had spent the night throwing ass to Megan thee Stallion and Cardi B but your folder of excuses in the very back of your brain shows up empty. That might be for the best, you realize as you look over your tutor.
“Partying?” He finishes the sentence for you. His eyes rake over you in judgment. “Maybe that’s why you’re failing English.”
Now wait a damn minute. You scoff, crossing your arms. Your brain is foggy, you desperately need a glass of water – and, not to mention, your skin feels beyond icky. The last thing you can do right now is come up with a proper comeback so the only thing you manage to utter is, “Or maybe English is just hard.”
“You speak it every day, how hard could it be?”
“Whatever,” you say, sitting down across from him. “Can we just … start?”
Jimin checks his watch again. “We might as well. We’ve got thirty minutes left. Let’s make the most of it.”
“I thought I had you for an hour.”
“Yes, and you were late so that hour has turned into thirty minutes. I’ve got things to do, Ms. L/N. I can’t wait around for you all day,” he replies, picking up a black ballpoint pen. “Let’s get started.”
“I’d much prefer it if you called me, Y/N,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “And you’re Jimin, correct?”
He nods curtly. “Alright, Ms. L/N, your form said you have an upcoming paper that focuses on the themes from Nella Larsen’s Passing. What part of the story are you at?”
You roll your eyes but choose not to correct him about your name and instead just answer his question. “I’m not on any part.”
His eyes brighten. “You mean you’ve already finished? Well, great, let’s jump right into discussion –”
“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not on any part because I haven’t started the book.”
Jimin looks at you as if you grew another head. “Your essay for the book is due next week. The book is less than two hundred pages. What do you mean you haven’t started yet?”
You shrug. “I figured since it’s such a short book I could probably finish it and write the essay in the same day.”
“And what day were you planning on doing that since our study session is right now?”
That day was last night but as you both knew you had gotten caught up with … other things. “I guess I figured we’d start the book together and I’d just get the essay done next week.”
Jimin sighs. “Ms. L/N, whatever you manage to vomit onto paper will not bring your grade up in the slightest if you follow your method. I guarantee that.”
You find yourself rolling your eyes – again. “That’s what you’re here for. You’re my tutor so tutor me in the right direction.” Jimin studies you for a moment and then he begins carefully putting his things away into his messenger bag. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“Ms. L/N, you can reach out to me once you’ve read the book but until then, we have nothing to discuss. I only meet with students who are serious about their education,” he places his bag over his shoulder and nods toward you. “Have a good day.”
“Um, hello! You can’t just leave,” you say, getting out of your chair.
“I can and I am,” Jimin replies, and with that, he walks out of the study room. You begin to follow him but decide against it. What good would that do? He was rude and had judged you from the moment you walked in the door. You didn’t need a tutor like that.
You decided you were going to go to the campus café, buy a large coffee, and then go home to take a much-needed shower.
. . . .
“He was a jerk,” you tell your best friend, Winter, taking a long sip of your mango-pineapple smoothie. “He left right in the middle of our session.”
Every Tuesday was the same. A morning class and then a lunch date with your bestie, Winter, at your favorite smoothie place about twenty minutes away from campus.
She shakes her head but not at him. “Y/N, I love you, but you were late. You didn’t read the material, and you had the nerve to have an attitude. I would have walked out on you too.”
Harsh but it was the truth. You weren’t quite ready to admit that you were somewhat at fault too. “Okay, but I’m saying, he didn’t have to be rude about it though.”
“What’d he look like?”
“He would be fine as hell if he wasn’t so rude,” you answer honestly.
She shakes her head, amused. “What did you end up getting on your essay anyway?”
After the last encounter with Jimin, you decided you’d find another tutor, but in the meantime, you were going to stick with your tried and true. You did exactly what you had told Jimin you would do. You read most of the book in one evening and managed to type up a paper in the same night, confident that you had aced it. But when you looked online, checking your grade, you realized Jimin had been right. Regardless, you weren’t going back to him.
You sigh. “Does it matter?”
“Yes,” Winter replies. “Because if Jimin is right, then I think you should give him a call.”
“Jimin Parker?”
You and Winter look up to see Jennie Kim hovering above you. Her freshly dyed blonde hair cascaded in waves down her slender face. You may have been the resident party girl, but Jen was the resident party queen.
“Hey Jen,” you say, motioning for her to take a seat. “Yeah, Jimin Parker. You know him?”
She sits between you and Winter. “You mean that gorgeous senior? Ugh, I had him as a tutor last semester.”
“How’d he do?” Winter says, giving you a knowing look.
You lean forward. Jennie was known for many things but having good grades was not one of them. In fact, you wondered how she managed to make it this far without being kicked out. But, if Jimin could manage to get her grades up, then he truly was a miracle worker.
“Amazing,” Jen gushes. “I got an A on my last three papers. I wanted him again this semester but apparently, he’s all booked up.”
You groan as Winter gives you another look. You pull your cell phone out of your pocket and dial Jimin. “Hello?” You reply as he answers. “Hi, yeah, Jimin, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if we could set up a session …”
…
For his sake (and mostly yours) you schedule an afternoon session and this time, you show up prepared. When he arrives, he’s shocked to see you already in the study room.
“Good afternoon,” he says, rounding the table to sit across from you. You get a whiff of his cedarwood cologne. “I see you’re on time.”
“I’m early,” you correct him. “You’re on time.”
“That I am,” he says, taking a seat. You watch him closely as he carefully takes out various pens and pencils, notebooks, and flashcards. He really is handsome, you think, even if he is an ass. “I see we’re studying Oedipus Rex by Sophocles?”
You nod your head. “I read it. I don’t understand it.”
“What exactly don’t you understand?”
“Not a single word in that book. They might as well be speaking Greek.”
He sighs. “Well, it is a Greek book.”
“Clearly,” you reply. “So where do we start?”
“I guess at the beginning.”
. . . .
Things were going smoothly. You found yourself actually understanding the material and surprisingly, enjoying it. But you also found yourself getting lost in Jimin at times. The more time you spent with him, the more you developed a crush. Your mind would wander as your eyes looked over him. You wondered how soft his full lips were. You wondered what his eyes looked like in moments of passion. You wondered how good it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms.
Your eyes were on his arms when he called your name. “Huh?”
“I asked did you want to go over the scene between Antigone and Polynices again?”
You shake your head. “No, I think I understand. Antigone wants him to call off the war, but Polynices’ pride won’t let him.”
“Correct,” Jimin replies with a smile.
Fuck, you think. Jimin had a smile that would make anyone melt. “Jimin,” you begin and mentally kick yourself for what you’re about to ask but you’ve started so you might as well finish. You put on your best flirtatious smile. “What do I get if I ace my next paper?”
He seems to know what you’re hinting at. “You get an A and the satisfaction of knowing your hard work paid off.”
Well, if that wasn’t a blaring rejection, you don’t know what is. “Do you have a girlfriend?” You blurt it out before your brain can even process whether the question was appropriate or not.
He blinks, slightly taken aback. “Yes, yes, I do. Why?”
You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as possible even though you feel as if you’ve just gotten stung by a million honeybees. “No reason. You just seem so into your academics; I didn’t think you had time for that kind of stuff.”
“Well, a human being still needs a social life to thrive,” he replies coolly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
You nod. “Yes, and his name is Jose Cuervo.”
He laughs. “I’m sure you have a line of men knocking on your door.”
“Nobody I want though,” you say, mostly to yourself.
. . . .
If crushing on him wasn’t enough, now you were dreaming about him. A week of erotic dreams plagued you. They felt so real. You could smell his signature cologne as he pushed in and out of you, your legs on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around your thick thighs. Each dream ended the same though, just as he was about to finish, your alarm would wake you up and you would spend a good five minutes finishing yourself off before getting ready for the day.
Instead of a study room at the library, Jimin asked you to meet him at his apartment for the study session. He mentioned something about time constraints, appointments, and being unable to book a study room but your brain had been stuck on, “Wanna meet me at my apartment? We can have a quick recap sesh before I have to run out?” He could barely finish his question before you agreed to it.
So, sue you for being curious.
It’s not like anything will happen, you thought as you parked, he has a girlfriend. You arrived twenty minutes early. Your excitement had gotten the best of you and you knew how much Jimin liked it when you were on time. When you knocked on the door, a man almost as handsome as Jimin answered.
“You must be Y/N?” he asked, sticking out his hand. “I’m Taehyung.”
You nodded, the thought of becoming a Wattpad heroine and having two incredibly attractive men fight over you danced around in your head. You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung.”
As he let you in, he explained he had somewhere to be, but that Jimin was in his room and to head right in. You gave the door a light knock but didn’t receive an answer. The door was slightly ajar, giving you the smallest view of a very neat bedroom. You spotted Jimin at his desk, looking at something on his large computer monitor. It looked familiar. Your curiosity ate at you, forcing your hand to ever-so-gently open the door further. This time you could see what Jimin was looking at clearly.
It was you. It was your Instagram feed. He was scrolling through your pictures, pausing at every photo that was a bit risqué.
“Fuck, Y/N …”
That was your name. Leaving his lips. In a moan. Your heart fluttered with excitement. But wait, was he …
As you tilt your head to get a better view, you can see the tip of his elbow on the armrest, bobbing up and down. And up and down. And up and down.
Oh, he definitely was.
You slap a hand over your mouth and tiptoe back to the living room. A few minutes later, you hear a shower turn on and ten minutes after that, you see Jimin emerge in a navy blue V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants.
“Hey,” Jimin looks at you with a face full of guilt. You can’t help but smile. “How long have you been waiting?”
“I just got here a few minutes ago,” you lie, looking up from your phone that you were pretending to be engrossed in. “I haven’t been waiting long.”
“Good, good,” he says. “Let’s go to the kitchen. The lighting is better in there.”
. . . .
After three weeks of hard work and several study sessions, you submit your paper with all the confidence of Scott Disick. Winter, the best friend that she is, decided that this was the best time to reward your good behavior with a couple of jello shots at your favorite bar. You gobble up the first two and then decide to sip on a blue Long Island iced tea. That’s when you spot him. Sitting in a corner, next to his roommate and another man with tattoos up and down his arms. Instead of his usual tweed blazer and grey slacks, his outfit looks more modern, more casual. A white graphic tee hugs his toned body, and you can’t help but eye his biceps. His cheeks are slightly red, his eyes are glossy and he’s laughing harder than you’ve ever seen him laugh. He looks delicious but you turn around and decide to order another shot from the bar.
You spot Winter getting her mack on with a fellow classmate, Karina, and it’s then you realize that you’re probably going to be alone for the rest of the night. Just as you begin to grab your wallet to pay your tab, a familiar figure approaches you.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he’s wearing a smile you’ve never seen before, and it makes your insides flutter.
“I could say the same thing,” you reply. “I never thought I’d see Jimin Park in a bar.”
“I don’t spend all my time in the library,” Jimin says.
“Could have fooled me,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. “What brings you out among people?”
He orders a whiskey sour before turning to you. “I, Y/N L/N, am finally a single man. My girlfriend of two years has decided that she no longer wants me.”
He’s smiling but you can see sadness behind his glossy eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “Her loss.”
“Oh definitely,” he says with a slight slur. “You want to know the real reason she broke up with me?”
You shrug. “Lay it on me.”
He leans in close, so close his body is pressed up against yours. He angles his lips to your ear and whispers, “I was too much for her.”
“Oh …”
“Yeah,” his words spill out in a rush, his eyes darkening as they take you in. They pause at your mini-skirt before crawling up your body slowly. You suddenly feel exposed, as if he just completely undressed you, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t love it. His voice lowers to a sultry whisper, “You don’t seem like that though.”
“Seem like that?”
“Like I’d be too much for you.”
“In what way?” You ask, genuinely curious.
He leans toward you, his lips brushing past your ear, forcing every hair on the back of your neck to stand up. “Sexual. You look like a good girl who knows how to take a pounding.”
A million thoughts ran through your head as Jimin broke out into a sardonic laugh. You were called back to that time you caught him masturbating to your pictures. You began to wonder if the prim and proper Jimin was just a façade to hide the sexual deviant he really was. His eyes look over you in a way they never have, and you swore they were clouded with lust. He licks his full lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss them, but you don’t. Instead, you take a step back and laugh, motioning to his roommate. Jimin was drunk and even though it looked like he wanted to bend you over the bar and give it to you, you knew better than to take advantage of a drunk man.
….
A week later, when you enter the study room, the moment you and Jimin exchange glances, you feel awkward. He looks embarrassed as he gestures for you to sit down.
“We need to talk,” he says. “I want to apologize about the other night at the bar.”
“It’s okay, I barely even gave it a second thought,” you lie. You had thought about that moment ever since it happened.
“No, it was inappropriate, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
“Jimin, you were drunk, it’s fine. Besides, it was nice to see a different side to you,” you reassured him with a smile.
“That’s not a side that I would like to be representative of who I am,” Jimin admits. “I don’t want to be known as the guy who makes people uncomfortable.”
You laugh. “Believe me, I was the farthest thing from uncomfortable.”
He locks eyes with you for a moment before clearing his throat and motioning toward your phone. “Have you checked your grades yet?”
You gasp, suddenly remembering the paper you had submitted a week earlier. You quickly bring up your most recent webpage, searching for the most recent grade listing. As your eyes glance over your paper and the notes, you realize that Jimin lived up to his reputation. You get up, shoving the phone in his face, squealing.
His eyes brighten, and he gets up as well. “You got an A!”
Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Jimin, to your surprise, doesn’t push away. Instead, he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. You take the moment to breathe in his intoxicating scent. The both of you remain intertwined far longer than you both know is appropriate but for some reason, neither one of you makes the move to let go.
Finally, Jimin relents first. He stares you in the face and says quietly, “I knew you could do it.”
You let out a small laugh. “I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you, Jimin”
“As a reward, we can end the session ten minutes early today,” Jimin replies and sits back down.
You find yourself shaking your head. “Can I request a different reward?”
Jimin looks up at you and nods. You look around the small study space. The room you chose was in the back, the library was relatively empty today and the small window the room provided was on the door and could easily be covered up the shade provided. You mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to say next. Things could go downhill, fast, depending on his reaction. Still, you steady yourself, look Jimin in the eyes and say, “I want a kiss.”
“What?”
“A kiss,” you repeat confidently. “I want you to kiss me as a reward.”
“I can’t kiss you,” he replies back, taking study materials out of his messenger bag. “That would be highly ina –”
“Jimin, if you don’t want to kiss me, just say so but don’t use the tutor-student relationship as a reason.”
He sighs. “I …” You watch as he struggles to find the right words.
“You were right about me,” you say, giving him a flirtatious smirk. “At the bar. I can take a good pounding.”
His face turns a beet-red, but he quickly recovers. He stands, walking to stand in front of you. “Just one kiss?”
“One kiss,” you repeat.
He leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for only a few seconds before breaking the kiss. “That good?”
You shake your head. “I hardly think that’s worth all the work I put in.”
He smiles, genuinely amused, and says, “Really?”
You nod. “Maybe if it was longer …”
Jimin sighs. “Y/N, if it’s longer, you know what that will lead to …”
“Then let it lead to that,” you challenge, you push. “I don’t know why you have to act so anal-retentive all the time. Not everything has to be perfect. Just k—”
He cuts you off with a deeper kiss. It’s slow and sensual. His hands wrap around your waist, one of them running down the curve of your ass as he palms it slowly, indulging in the fleshy softness. You can feel his dick hardening on your thigh as he slips a tongue into your mouth.
Jimin is using both hands to palm your ass now, his dick grinding into you and a low, deep, moan leaves his mouth forcing an electric sensation to shoot down your spine and vibrate in your core.
“You sure you want this?” he asks through a searing kiss.
“Yes,” you think you say but you’re not sure. Your head is spinning that this is actually happening.
He responds by lifting your pleated skirt and smacking your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room. Fingertips dance between your ass crack, and he uses a knee to part your legs slightly further. You break the kiss, throwing your head back as you feel Jimin’s fingertips slowly rub your pussy from the back. He slips a finger into your underwear, running it up and down your slit.
“How long have you wanted this?” He asks, nipping at your neck. “You’re already so fucking wet.” You try to answer but all that comes out is a moan as he slips another finger inside. “Shh,” he tells you. “You want the whole library to hear you?”
He gives you a bit of a reprieve when his hands slip away. You watch as he pulls out one of the chairs and sits, beckoning for you to stand in front of him. Your skirt is still at your waist, so he pulls your underwear down before pulling you close. You feel his large hands grope your ass again, peppering kisses up and down your hips. Another smack echoes through the room before he uses a hand to caress clit. You move your hips in response, holding on to the table for balance.
He pauses. “Turn around and bend over.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You obey, and not a second later, you feel him placing one of your legs up on the study table. “Arch that back, baby.” Your ass juts out just a little more as you follow his directions. A moment later you feel a cool, wet, sensation going up and down the slit of your core. It’s slow at first, as if he’s taking the time to let the taste of you marinate on his tongue but he quickly picks up his pace. The tip of his tongue flickering over your clit. Meanwhile, you can feel his thumb, massaging your anus.
Jimin was an ass man, and he was making that very clear.
Both hands were gripping your ass now as he guided your pussy over his tongue. You work your hips in tandem, stifling a loud moan as your world begins to go white.
But he wasn’t done with you yet.
He moves his tongue from your pussy up to your anus, and you jerk, having never quite felt something like this before. You can hear an amused laugh leave Jimin’s throat as he begins to massage your ass with his tongue. His fingers working your pussy, begging for another orgasm. You oblige, your wetness dripping all over his fingertips.
“Don’t move,” he demands. You can hear his belt unbuckling, followed by the tips of his dick moving up and down your incredibly wet slit. He slides it in with the patience of a saint, excruciatingly slow, forcing whimpers out of you, begging him to go faster. “You sure you want it faster?”
“Please,” you moan.
“Please, what?”
“Please, Jimin,” you manage to utter out.
He gives you your wish and begins to pound you like he said he would. His pace quickens and you can feel every inch of him inside of you. Your pussy wraps around him which causes him to smack your ass, and a deep moan leaves his lips.
You realize he can’t have all the fun though and you begin to throw it back on him, your ass bouncing against him, and he lets you. You can hear your wetness as you begin to drain his dick. You can hear his low grunts of satisfaction as you pick up your pace and when you look back, you can see his dark eyes looking at you in a way you never wanted to stop. “Good fucking girl,” he whispers in a low voice.
You make eye contact which forces him to grip your hips and pound into you harder, faster (stronger). “One more time baby,” he says to you, maintaining eye contact. “Cum on this dick.” You had already been close, and his words only sent you over the edge further than you had ever gone. You close your eyes, your body shaking in pleasure as you have your third orgasm on his dick.
He follows suit, his cum shooting deep inside of you. You feel his body on top of yours as you both try to catch your breath.
“Was that worth all your hard work?’ He asks.
“I think I’ll have to get A’s for the rest of the year,” you reply.
“The rest of your life.”
#bts fic#bts x reader#bts x black reader#jimin x reader#jimin x you#jimin x y/n#smut#bts smut#bts x reader fic#jimin x black reader
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Tattoo
Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader (Negan is y/n's art teacher & also owns a tattoo shop).
Warnings: THIS IS THE FILTHIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR and it's just going to get filthier from here on. smut, forbidden love, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 38), angst, oral (female receiving), lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn.(there's an actual plot this time), vaginal sex, public sex, breeding, slight daddy kink
Summary: After graduating and leaving behind the man she fell for but couldn't have, y/n decides to get a tattoo that reminds her of him. And he gives it to her.
A/n: ugh, this had me in my feels. A "hard to get" teacher Negan. basically you're negan's former student and he gives you a tattoo and things.. well - just read it.
"Well damn. I don't mean to be sentimental, but I have seriously enjoyed teaching you little shits. I hope you can take what you've learned and apply it to something. Be creative. Oh, and.. don't think about hitting me up on Instagram after this because I don't do social media. That shit is toxic. Remember that, kids."
The bell cuts Negan off before he can finish his inspirational speech. He's always had such a way with words.. should have been an English teacher instead.
Most of the students rush out like the room is on fire, with the exception of a few annoying girls that think he'll jump their bones now that school is out.
"So, Mr. Smith, since you don't have social media, can I get your number at least?" I cringe as she twirls her hair around her finger and her friends giggle obnoxiously behind her.
"Girls. Behave for once. A tip for college? Don't flirt with your professors." He warns while motioning them out the door.
I suddenly realize that my ass has been glued to my seat this entire time and I'm the only one still here. I quickly get up and throw my backpack over one shoulder. He stares at me from the doorway but I just look down as I walk towards him.
"Bye Mr. Smith."
"Nice try. Sit down." He shuts his door and walks back into the room pointing towards my chair for me to sit.
"Mr. Smith, y/n?" He mocks. "Seriously?"
I never call him that. He's always been Negan to me.
I've known him for 4 years now. He's the only art teacher at Alexandria High, and even though I have no interest in art, I've taken his class every year because I do have an interest.. in him.
What he doesn't know is that I've been making mental notes everyday for the past four years about all his interests, personal life, hobbies, you name it.
He loves the color red - because it's the only color expo marker he writes in.
His favorite lunch is two cigarettes and coke zero. I hate that he smokes.
He stopped coaching baseball last year because he said he didn't have time anymore. But I think it's actually because he's never cared for it to begin with.
He had a wife, but she passed away. Some kind of cancer. She's still his computer wallpaper, which tells me he still hasn't moved on even though it was six years ago. My heart hurts for him.
He wasn't lying - he doesn't have social media....I would have found it.
He sits at another student's desk right next to mine with his body facing me.
"You gonna tell me why the hell you look like your best fucking friend just died?"
I stare at the floor next to his shoes and try to think about anything other than fact that I'm never going to see him again.
"Look at me."
I slowly lift my eyes to his and can't stop the tear that escapes the second I see his face.
"Ah, shit." His expression turns serious when he notices my tears. "Look, kid. I -"
"Stop calling me kid." I snap.
He chuckles. "Hate to break it to ya y/n, but you are very much a kid in my eyes, which is why this thing -" he motions his hand towards me. "this.. crush you have on me - has to end today."
My eyes widen as I stare at him speechless. He seriously did not just assume I have a crush on him.
"Did you jus - You seriously think just because a few stupid girls want to get in your pants, it means everyone does?" I scoff. "Unbelievable. You're my teacher. I don't have a crush on you."
He laughs as if we both know I'm lying - which I am.
"Alright, I'm sorry I called you a kid. Now, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"
"It's just I - I'm gonna miss you." I instantly regret saying it.
He nods and looks at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh.
"I'm sorry. I - I'm just gonna go." I get up to leave, leaving my heart with him. My stomach twists in a knot when I realize he isn't getting up to stop me.
Why would he?
Once I'm in the hall, I turn to take one last look at him. He's bent over with his hands through his hair as if his best friend just died.
Negan's POV:
That fucking girl. In my twelve years of teaching, I've never cared about a student like I do her. I care about all of my students, but goddamn it, she's had me wrapped around her finger for longer than I'm comfortable to admit - And I never will.
She fucking sucks at hiding her feelings. I knew from the first day she walked into my class that she wanted to jump on my dick. Hell, every girl does. But other girls bat their fake eyelashes at me and tell me how they feel. Y/n.. she's.. obsessed with me.
She thinks I didn't notice her doodling my name in her notebook with little hearts. Or that I don't hear her whispering to her friends about the dreams she has about me. Or how she stares at me during lectures like she's on a different planet.
And if that's not enough, the girl hates art. Yet she's chosen it as her elective every single year. She has straight A's in every class, but doesn't even try in mine.
And yet.. my dumb ass still passed her with an A.
Maybe because I'm obsessed with her too.
Back to Y/n's POV:
I cried on the way home that day.
While everyone else celebrated school ending with a party, I stayed in my room and cried while looking at his photo in the yearbook.
While everyone walked across the stage at graduation, my diploma came in the mail and I stayed home holding Negan's lucky baseball bat that he gave me last year.
My last day of junior year, I stayed after school to help Negan clean out his classroom so he could move into a bigger art room. That was the year he quit coaching. I replay the memory in my head more often than I should..
"Why do you have this bat just sitting in the corner?"
"It brings me good luck. I hit a home run every game my senior year with that bat."
"Your senior year? This bat is that old?!"
"Watch it, kid." He rolls his eyes and throws some folders in a bin.
"Hmm." I study the bat. "I could use some luck."
"Keep it."
I look at him confused. "But... it's your-"
"I want you to have it." He cuts me off.
"Are - Are you sure?"
He sighs frustrated. "Do you not want it?"
"Well, I mean, I do but -"
"Then stop being stubborn and take it."
Ever since that day, his bat has been leaned up against the wall by my bed as a constant reminder of the man I want but can never have.
After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, my best friend tried convincing me to do something for myself since my birthday was coming up.
"Y/n, you should.. get your nails done, go buy some new clothes, do.. something. But you need to get out of that room. It's... depressing."
"I think I want a tattoo."
"Oh, okay, yeah. That's a good idea. What are you wanting to get?" She asks from the other end of the phone.
"I dunno." My eyes drift towards the bat. "Something meaningful."
The next day...
Lucille's
The tattoo shop sign reads. I swing the door open, excited for the first time in a month. The sound of tattoo guns and rock music fills the lobby.
"Hey, welcome to Lucille's. Do you have an idea of what you'd like or do you want to see some of our work?" The woman on the other side of the counter pulls out a binder.
"Oh, no, I think I know what I want already." I smile and pull up the picture on my phone before showing her.
"Okay, we can do that. Shouldn't take too long either. An hour tops. I can actually take you now in room 3." The so-called "rooms" aren't actually rooms, but rather closed off sections with tall walls on each side. From where I'm standing, I can't see the people in the tattoo chair, but I can see the top of the tattoo artists' heads if I stand on my tippy-toes.
She leads me to room 3 and I sit in the chair while she gets out the instruments.
"This your first tattoo?"
"Yeah, kinda nervous."
She smiles. "I'd tell you not to worry, but, sorry babe. It's gonna hurt."
I appreciate her honesty and just smile back at her.
"So, where do we want it?" she holds the printed off picture off of the tattoo I want.
I lean back in the chair, putting my legs up, so I'm laying down. I lift my shirt up right above my belly button and slightly pull my shorts down, revealing my pubic bone. "Right here." I point to the left side of where my panty line would be but lower.
After I confirm the placement, she presses the needle to my skin and I bite my bottom lip at the sudden pain that radiates throughout my hip.
"Breathe, babe. You got this."
After a couple seconds, she turns in her chair to load more ink into the gun.
"Y/n?" I hear from the entrance behind me.
I know that voice without turning to look. My eyes widen and the girl tattooing me looks at him.
"Hey boss, you two know each other?" She looks between the two of us.
I look back at him and see him nod at her. "I'll finish her up, Ruby. Thanks." He takes the tattoo gun from her and sits in her chair when she gets up to leave. The scent of leather and cigarettes fills the small room and I realize how much I missed it.
He pauses when he looks down at my skin and I can't tell if he's staring because of my tattoo of choice or because I'm almost completely exposed. If I didn't just shave, half of my pubic hair would be on display to him.
The way he's looking at my skin wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I have to mentally tell myself not to clench my legs together. He looks up at me through heavy eyelids and for the first time in four years, I'm unable to read him. I can't tell if he's disappointed, mad... or turned on...?
He looks back at the tattoo and shakes his head, sighing.
Okay, it's definitely a look of disappointment.
"You realize I have to finish this now that she's already started it, right?" He studies the lines already permanently marked in my skin. The faint purple lines of where the sticker was placed give away the complete outline of what the tattoo will be. "There's still time to change it though."
"What? What do you mean.. change it? I want this one."
"No." Is all he says and my eyes widen in shock at him.
"You can't tell me what to do Negan. I'm an adult, and I'm getting it."
"Why?" He snaps, frustration dripping from his tone.
He looks into my eyes for the first time since he's been in the room and the butterflies in my stomach have now gone wild.
"Because I... I want a piece of you with me always."
He closes his eyes and drops his head. My eyes start to water but I hold them back the best I can.
"Y/n." He shakes his head but to my surprise, he hesitantly places his left hand on my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the spot I've imagined him touching a million times. The feel of his rough fingers on my bare skin ignites a flame in me I didn't know existed and all I do is stare at his hand.
"Relax." He rolls his eyes and starts the gun. He leans down closer and begins tattooing me.
I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape my lips. With Ruby.. it hurt. But with Negan, it.. almost feels good.
He glances up at me as if he can hear my thoughts and then goes back to gliding a straight line of ink across my skin.
The next few moments are spent in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the tattoo gun and music playing in the distance.
"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna need these off so I can get to you better." He gestures at my shorts.
My eyes widen but I nod and slide them off, barely breathing now that I'm laying in front of Negan in just my underwear. The way his jaw ticks when he sees that I'm wearing red lace panties doesn't go unnoticed. His favorite color.
He places his hand back on my leg, this time with his fingers completely against my inner thigh. I slightly part my legs without thinking and he pauses to glance at me before continuing with the tattoo.
If he moved his finger half an inch upwards, he would be touching me.
"I never knew you worked at a tattoo shop." I break the silence, hoping to get my mind off his hand.
He chuckles. "I own it, darlin'. And there's a lot you don't know about me."
Another long pause happens before he speaks first this time.
"Why did you take art, y/n?"
"Uh.. I dunno, because I liked it."
He huffs out a laugh. "You liked it... or me?"
I shrug. "Both."
His face turns serious again and he stops the tattoo gun. "All done."
He backs away and motions for me to stand up and look in the mirror in the corner. I stand in front of it, but don't even notice my tattoo because my eyes catch Negan in the mirror staring at my ass. These panties don't leave much to the imagination and my cheeks redden at how much I'm exposed to him.
He suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual and filled with lust.
"Come here." He demands and I obey, walking towards him.
Once I'm standing in front of him, he lifts his hands to grab my hips. My belly button is eye level to him and I look down, watching him intensely. His thumbs dig into my hips and he looks at the tattoo.
"Do you like it?" I ask him.
He ignores me and it makes my heart break a little more. "Lay back down, y/n." He gets up to pull the curtain over the entrance of the room.
I do as he says and he comes back, placing a clear tape bandage over the fresh tattoo.
He looks as if he's deep in thought before suddenly sliding his hands underneath my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He pushes my leg aside and rests my other foot in his lap until my legs are completely spread apart in front of him.
"You want me to touch you, y/n? Is that what you want?"
"Yes.."
"Tell me what you want, baby."
"Your mouth."
He chuckles darkly and kisses the inside of my thigh before sliding his fingers under my panties and ripping them apart.
He shoves them in the back of his jean pocket and wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my stomach down with his hands and leaning his head down closer.
"Look at this pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me you're glistening."
His eyes look up at me right before he licks me and my head falls back with pleasure.
He stops suddenly. "Eyes on me, darlin'. How many times have you imagined me between your legs? You're going to watch me eat this pussy, y/n."
I nod, looking at him and he continues. The sound of other people talking in the distance makes my senses even more heightened.
He licks me again, pressing his tongue into me harder this time. He moans as he stops at my clit and gently sucks it into his mouth. I moan and watch him as he looks like he's eating the best meal he's ever had.
"You taste even better than I imagined, baby."
"You.. imagined it?"
"Baby. You aren't the only one who daydreams in class." He says before dipping his tongue deep inside me.
He switches back and forth between licking me and sucking me until my moans get louder and faster.
"Negan, I'm gonna.."
"I know baby, give it to me." He rubs me with his tongue faster until I'm coming apart. His hand quickly covers my mouth and I cry out into his hand.
"Fuck, doll." He groans and adjusts himself through his jeans. "This pussy is about to make me cum in my pants like I'm a fucking teenager again."
"Negan.." I say out of breath. "I wanna touch you. Please."
He stands and picks up my shorts, but not before I see the huge bulge in his pants. He helps me put my shorts on and I look at him confused when he doesn't say anything.
"Nega-"
"No, y/n."
My eyes water with tears as I stand to finish pulling my shorts up. "I - I don't understand."
"This can't happen, baby. I shouldn't have touched you."
I nod. "So that's it, Negan? You get what you want and that's it.. you're just.. done with me?"
"Are you fucking serious? You think I got what I wanted? I'm standing here with a hard-on that's gonna give me a giant case of blue balls. Any other man would throw you on this table and take you right here."
"Then why don't you?!"
"Because I fucking.. I care about you. You happy now? I fucking CARE ABOUT YOU, y/n. And I'm not going to break your heart."
I wipe a tear that runs down my cheek. "You already did." I grab my purse and rush out of the room, stopping in front of Ruby on the way out and pulling out some cash.
"I'm sorry hun." She says empathetically as if she heard everything that just happened.
I cry harder and lay the cash down before leaving and walking to my car. Before I can open my car door, Negan is grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.
"Goddamn it, listen to me!"
I don't fight him, I just stare at him, noting the hurt in his eyes. My heart hurts and I suddenly feel guilty for making him feel any ounce of pain.
"Y/n.. look.."
"No." I cut him off. "Negan, I'm sorry. This is my fault.. I put you in this situation because I was selfish.. and delusional. I'm so sorry. I'll leave, and you won't have to hear from me or see me again."
He scoffs. "You think that's what I want? I guess you don't know me the way I thought you did."
Before I can say anything else, he crashes his lips to mine and kisses me so hard and but so softly at the same time. His fingers slip through my hair and his hand rests on the back of my neck as he deepens our kiss.
"You're gonna be the death of me, kid."
I bite his lip hard when he calls me kid and our kiss goes from passionate to animalistic. He presses himself flat against me with my back against my car and I feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. His lips travel to my neck and he bites me hard, right before kissing and sucking the sensitive spot.
That's definitely going to leave a mark.
"You have no clue what you do to me, baby." He says in between kisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than usual. "Do you have any idea how many times I've left work and had to rub one out at the thought of you? Hell, sometimes even at work."
I look around the parking lot. It's nighttime but we're still clearly visible in the lights.
"Look at me, y/n. Forget where we are and just focus on me baby." His hand slips into my shorts and it takes him no time to find my soaked entrance since my panties are currently in his back pocket.
"Negan.." I breathe.
He smiles against my lips. "Baby.. You sure this is what you want? Because once I've had you, you're mine."
I nod and he puts his mouth next to my ear.
"Take your shorts off. Now." He pulls his hand from my shorts and sucks my juices off his fingers.
"But, Negan, we're-"
"I said, now y/n. You want me so bad, you're gonna get me wherever and however I say. Now, take your fucking shorts off before I rip them too."
I hesitantly slide my shorts off while looking around again. There aren't any other cars in the parking lot other than a couple of his employees. All the customers left. There's a main road up ahead but we're far enough away where they wouldn't see us unless they we're staring really hard.
"Good girl. Now take my cock out, baby."
He leans his hands against my car on either side of me, trapping me in. I waste no time reaching for the button on his jeans and unzipping him before pulling out his hard, huge cock. It's bigger than I imagined.. a lot bigger. I don't know how that thing is going to even fit in me. He's so hard that the veins in his cock look like they are about to erupt and his tip is already dripping with precum.
I can't help but run my thumb over the tip to collect some and bring it to my mouth to taste him. His eyes darken with lust at the sight of me sucking his precum off my finger.
"Taste good, doll?"
I nod and he chuckles. "There's a lot more where that came from."
He grips the back of my thigh with his hand and pulls my right leg around his waist.
The feeling of his dick rubbing against my wet pussy is enough to make my knees weak. Literally. I almost collapse at the sensation of him rubbing the head against my opening, teasing me. He presses his body closer to me in attempt to hold me up.
"Fuck, look at this dripping pussy." He looks down between us, admiring the view of his cock teasing my wet slit. "It's about to be dripping with my cum in a few minutes.. You ready for me, baby?"
"Yes, please. I need you."
He enters me completely in one swift motion, not giving me anytime to adjust. My walls are stretched further than they've ever been and it feels like the tip of him is buried up to my stomach.
He doesn't move for a moment, but instead looks into my eyes with his cock all the way inside of me. "There you go, baby. Finally getting what you wanted after all these years and taking my dick like a champ."
"Negan.." I moan. "Please.. just fuck me."
He pulls out of me almost completely before slowly pushing himself back in, agonizingly slow. Our bodies are flush against each other and he kisses me again.
"Fuck, baby." He growls. "You. Feel. So. Fucking GOOD." He says between thrusts as my mouth falls open.
I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up and lean against him with my lips pressed against his neck. I take the opportunity to mark him back, grabbing his skin between my teeth and sucking hard. He moans so loud that I glance around to make sure no one heard him, but we're still alone.
His thrusts get harder and faster and the sounds coming from his sexy mouth are enough alone to make me cum.
"Look at me, y/n. I want to see your face when you cum all over my cock."
His hand that was on the car behind me slides between us, instantly finding my clit. He begins rubbing circles on it with his middle finger while thrusting his hips into me faster.
I look into his eyes while my arms are still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, keeping me in place. My fingers run through his dark hair and my breathing goes erratic as I feel myself come undone around him.
"You want me to fill you up, baby? You want daddy's cum?"
I nod quickly as tears run down my cheeks from the most intense orgasm I've ever had.
"FUCK, baby." He groans and slams his mouth against mine. I kiss him back as he rides out his orgasm.
He pulls out of me slowly and softly kisses my lips one more time. I go to put my shorts on and he stops me.
"Not so fast, doll." He gets down on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart in front of him. "Push daddy's cum out baby. Let me see it drip out of you."
I do as he says and the feeling of his warm seed running down my legs is almost enough to send me over the edge again.
"Look. At. THAT." He swipes up some of his cum from my leg onto his finger and stands back up but not before gently kissing my new tattoo.
I think I love this man.
He rubs his finger along my lips until my mouth opens for him. I suck his fingers clean and moan at the taste of him.
"Y/n." He pushes my hair behind my ear and looks at me seriously. "I meant it when I said I care about you."
"You care about all your students."
"Yeah, but I don't go sticking my dick in them." He smirks and takes my hand, leading me back into the shop.
The others must have already left when - when.. oh.. shit.
"Negan, do you think they saw us?!"
"Well darlin', I was fucking your brains out right next to the door, so I think it's probably safe to assume so." He grins and my eyes widen with horror.
"Do you not care?"
"What can they do, doll? Fire me?" He laughs and leads me to the back where his office is.
"What are we doing in here?"
"Getting matching tattoos, of course."
I stare at him, trying to register what he just said. "You're.. going to give yourself a tattoo?"
He chuckles and hands me a tattoo gun before taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch in the corner.
"No, doll, you are."
The Enddd.
Part 2 or nah?
#jdm x reader#jdmfanfiction#jdmorgan#jeffrey dean morgan#negan#dead city#jeffrey dean morgan x reader#negan fanfiction#negan oneshot#negan imagine#daddy negan#jdm x you#jeffrey dean morgan x you#jeffrey dean morgan fanfiction#jdm fanfiction#negan au#negan x you#the walking dead#teacher negan#professor negan#coach negan
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My Kind of Woman
Chapter 1: Special.
Series Masterlist
Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.
Chapter summary - You and Joel finally sit down together after a year of stolen glances.
A/N: OH MY GOD IT’S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I’VE WRITTEN A FIC I MISSED IT SM. Let’s all collectively pray that I actually finish this series, btw. It kind of just came to me earlier today and I barely have anything planned but.. you know me by now.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: alcohol, light language, (kind of) fluff, nothing much really in this chapter
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
“Come on man. We’ve been here for almost two years and you still haven’t made any friends. I see how you look at her- just say something! It is actual torture having to watch you dance around people like this.” Ellie groans dramatically, trying to kick some sense into the man who sits across from her. Joel just grunts, continuing to eat his stew as she looks blankly at him. “She’s nice enough.” She adds after a moment, trying to get him to say something.
After more silence, she speaks again with an exaggerated sigh, “I guess I’ll just go talk to her then, tell her that my old man has a big, fat crush on her. Maybe then you two can-” her smirk falters when Joel interrupts her.
“Don’t you dare go doin’ that,” he grumbles “Y’ gon’ make me look stupid-”
“So you talk to her then! Stop moping around all the time.” Ellie concludes, before standing up and saying goodbye, going to clear her tray and giving him a look before leaving the mess hall.
Joel watches her go before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. First, Tommy was on his ass about making some friends - “You’re scarin’ people, y’know. Givin’ everyone death stares when you walk around, being so.. withdrawn all the time. It’d do ya some good,” he’d told Joel one evening at the Tipsy Bison - and now Ellie was too. And, knowing Ellie, that kid wouldn’t be as patient, probably already concocting some sort of plan to force you and Joel together.
As he leans his head back and mulls over his options, he looks out the window. Of course you’re out there, playing with the kids of Jackson. You’re one of the most popular people in Jackson, always being friendly and knowing just about everyone.
..Except him, of course. You’ve had some small chats with him, but you never really see him. He sees you though, having been.. observing you for the past year, keeping his distance - being respectful, in his eyes, being a wuss, in Ellie’s - and he knows enough about you to know that he probably has no chance with you.
You’re funny, sweet, fucking stunning, and he’s seen multiple guys try to approach you at the bar. Younger, more attractive guys. Mainly, you help teach kids things like art and music at the Jackson school, and you also do patrols a few times a week. On some nights you also sing at the Tipsy Bison when there are events and dances. The band will play, often with you as the lead singer. He always makes sure he’s there when you are.
The first time he saw you was on one of his very first nights in the Tipsy Bison. Tommy had dragged him along, Ellie going too, with promise of a fun night.
He came mainly to keep an eye on Ellie and to get some alcohol in his system, not expecting anything ‘fun’ to happen. Boy, was he wrong.
It had been around half an hour of him nursing his whiskey in the corner of the room when you came onto stage, million-dollar smile on your face as you spoke into the microphone.
“Good evening, Jackson!” You began, already getting a loud cheer from the crowd of people there that night. “It’s great to be singin’ for you again, you know I missed ya! Now, tonight, we got a few songs lined up, but this first one is a special request from Mister Tommy Miller over there!” You had said, pointing over to Tommy who was sitting with Joel, the younger brother grinning widely at you.
The band started and you began to sing one of Joel’s favourite songs from before the outbreak - somehow, it sounded even better in your voice. Joel glared at Tommy when he realised what he had done, and Tommy just shrugged before looking back at you. He couldn’t stay mad at him though, because by the end of it he was entranced by the sweet melody of your voice and how gorgeous you looked singing your heart out under the lights.
You were beaming at the audience after finishing as they showered you with applause, though it took Joel a second to actually start clapping and stop staring at you.
He tried denying it, but, as cheesy as it sounds, it was love at first sight for him.
It scared him, definitely. It had barely been a year since he lost Tess, and although he wouldn’t go as far as saying they were in love, it was the closest thing he’d had to it in decades. To think he even liked you from just hearing you sing one song.. that fucking terrified him.
Which is why he kept his distance for so long. He didn’t know what to do with himself when he realised he actually liked you. He hadn’t had any sort of connection other than Ellie and Tommy in so long, and they were his family. You, though.. you were so different.
He sighed deeply before opening his eyes again, finishing his meal as he watched you smile and laugh in the snow through the window.
A week later, Tommy manages to convince Joel to come to the Tipsy Bison again, promising ‘no funny business’ to go on. Joel isn’t sure he’d really mind.
Time goes by quietly, a simple Monday afternoon not having much going on for them, but then you turn up. He sees you as soon as you walk through the doors, an unfamiliar tiredness in your eyes. It looks like you’ve been on a long patrol.
You look around before noticing Tommy and Joel, walking over with a small smile.
Joel stares daggers at Tommy. “You said no funny business,” he grits, a strange panic flooding his system. Did he brush his hair this morning? Do his clothes look tidy? Did he have anything in his teeth?
“Ain’t no funny business here, brother.” Tommy grins at him, not giving him a chance to reply as you get to their table.
“Hi Tommy!” You smile, hugging him before turning to Joel. “And Joel! It’s so great to see you!”
Joel blinks at you. Fuck, you’re talking to him. He needs to say something back.
“Yeah, you too.” He mumbles, clearing his throat awkwardly.
If you pick up on his discomfort, you don’t mention it, looking around before continuing.
“Are y’all stayin’?” You ask, now leaning forward a little with your palms on the table.
“As far as I’m concerned.” Tommy replies, to which you nod. “Y’ wouldn’t mind if I sit with ya, then?” You ask.
“Not at all, darlin’.” He says, and you slide into the booth with them, starting up a conversation about what you did today, mentioning that draining patrol you just got back from.
“I’m tellin’ ya - morning patrols are like hell on earth, Tommy. ‘S not fair to be makin’ us go out at 6 am.” You groan, to which he smiles. “Nothin’ a little coffee can’t fix.” Tommy replies, which makes you perk up.
“You have coffee? Since when?” You gasp, wide-eyed at him.
“New trade opened, and since Joel here is such an addict, we got our hands on some.” He gestures to Joel, and you look over at him, a smile creeping onto your face.
“I see.. being Tommy’s brother has its perks then? Got you hoarding all the coffee for yourself?” You tease, to which Joel chuckles quietly at, sitting up a little taller.
“Not hoardin’. Nobody else has asked for any.” He tells you, looking into your eyes and trying not to get lost in them for too long.
“And if I wanted some?” You say, tilting your head sideways slightly as it rests on your palm.
“Y’ always welcome to come get some, sweetheart.” He isn’t sure what possessed him to use the pet name with you, but he’s very thankful for it as a soft crimson paints your cheeks and you bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot. “Well, thank you.” You reply, before a man comes over to get you your drink. “Whiskey, neat please.” You tell him and he goes off to get it. Joel is pleasantly surprised by your choice. He never really thought about what you might order from the bar, but the fact that you shared the same drink of choice made you even more attractive in his eyes.
2 hours later, Tommy had gone off to handle an issue with the council and you and Joel had been talking and drinking and laughing. It’s around 3 now and he barely realises in time for his afternoon patrol, finishing off his whiskey before telling you, noticing the slight sadness that appears on your face at him having to go.
“Oh! Alright then. I’ll see you around. Have a good patrol, Joel.” You smile at him, and he offers you a small smile back.
“See ya ‘round.” He says before leaving and going back to the stables.
Later that evening, Ellie somehow figures out what went down earlier at the bar (Joel’s already planning on giving Tommy a talking to tomorrow) and makes fun of him endlessly for it, saying that he was apparently so shy when he was talking with you.
“I’d have never thought that someone could make the big, bad Joel all nervous and flustered, but she just continues to prove me wrong. She’s definitely special, huh.” Ellie grins, before bidding Joel goodnight and leaving him with his thoughts.
He hated to admit it, but Ellie was right in saying that. You were special.
Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 💞
Next Chapter
#amyispxnk fics#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller angst#joel miller imagine#joel miller tlou#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller fluff#joel tlou#joel miller one shot#joel x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x you#tlou#tlou2#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fic#the last of us smut
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Fem!Reader
fluffy fluff, a lil suggestive at the end
Mornings for the Riley family are chaos... but organized chaos. At 0500, your husband gently pats your back and whispers in your ear “Wake up, lovie!” as you’re sprawled out on the white sheets posing as a starfish. You groan in displeasure and turn on your back with a quiet “hi”, voice hoarse from sleep. “Good mornin’, dove. Breakfast's ready. I'm gonna wake the kids up.” ‘Fuck! How does he do this every single day?’ you think as you set your feet on the floor, slightly shivering from the cold tiles. You finally get off the bed, letting out a loud yawn and go into the bathroom to start your morning routine. As you’re getting on with your “me time”, you hear the kids kick up a fuss, not wanting to get up and not liking mornings one bit. You smile to yourself since you don’t have to deal with that today. Yes, they’re your children and you love them dearly, but you deserve to have some time to yourself and leave the tough part of the morning to the lieutenant. You finish your business in the bathroom, finally shaken the sleep away and make your way to the kitchen to see the kids around the table and your husband by the oven, filling everyone’s plate. “Good morning, guys!” you say with a smile. “Good mornin’, mommy.” they mumble unenthusiastically with sleepy voices. You let out a chuckle since you know Simon had to drag them out of their beds by the annoyed looks on their faces. “Lookin’ good, LT!” you murmur as you slap his ass lightly and he turns around with a smirk and pulls you in for a quick kiss. You take a sit at the table “You didn’t have to wait for me.” “ ‘course we did. We always wait for mommy, right?” he asks the kids, awaiting an answer “Yeeess.” they drag out the word irritated. He chuckles as he shakes his head. He puts your plates in front of you and takes his sit beside you. You eat your breakfast with little to no words. You finish it quickly and get to work; check everyone’s bags for the right books and stuff as the sleepy heads tend to forget and make mistakes sometimes, make every one’s lunch except Simon because you two go to the usual cafe you go every day on your lunch breaks. Get the kids dressed and send them away when the school bus arrives, “Be careful and behave, guys. I love you.” you call out as you stand on the porch waving them goodbye and they turn around and blow kisses with their hands making you smile with contentment. You close the door and go into the bedroom to get ready for work, seeing your husband already dressed in his uniform. “Hey.” you mutter as you pull him in for kiss, this time longer, not wanting to let go. You finally pull away “Fuck! Go before I rip that uniform off you.” “Yes, ma’am.” he replies as he pats your ass and winks “See you at lunch, lovie.” “See you too, Si. Bye.” you wave at him as he leaves. ‘FUCK!! Maybe in the cafe bathroom?’ you think to yourself ‘Nah, that’s nasty... or is it?’ ‘Yea but who cares?’ you finish your thoughts hoping he would agree to take you in the cafe bathroom since you might (definitely) not be able to get him out of your head after seeing him in full gear. Although, he’s always on your mind at every moment of the day. He's the love of your life after all.
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost riley#ghost simon riley#cod fanfic#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#call of duty#cod mw2#cod#mw2#cod modern warfare
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"She only wanted to lie beside him"
Pairing: Yan. Kenma x Fem. Reader
Warnings: Stalking, kidnapping, bondage, noncon touching and noncon implied
Note: WOAH!!! I POST 2 TIMES IN A WEEK. WILD!!! Uhm yeah, this is a guilty pleasure fic.
Turning on your computer you feel a bit... dumb? It feels useless to even message him- but yet here you are. Kenma messaged you, and that's not out of the ordinary. Actually it's pretty normal, it's been normal for like 6-7 months.
You got close to him because he was in a server with a mutual friend. He goes to your high school and growing up the most you said to him was something about project years ago. Senior year- you thought that this would be the year where you'd come out of your shell but that never happened. Anxiety crashed that thought early on. When you got on a daily routine of texting Kenma you thought he'd actually want to befriend you, but that's not what happened. Long late night conversations and not a word said to each other in real life. It doesn't help that you two walk the same way home either...
Maybe you wouldn't have cared so much if you didn't have a small crush on him.
'hey did we hv hw' your computer gets a notification, Kenma. You sigh and type back, 'Yeah, the insert for this lesson.' you see that he's typing but he stops and doesn't respond until about 5 minutes later- despite being online. '👍' you couldn't help but roll your eyes and just sigh.
None the less he was an ok dude, he had offered to gift you things, games & chocolates- all of which you declined. You didn't want to feel materialistic and greedy.
'do you wanna play gungeon' you put your jacket on and replied quickly, 'Sorry, I'm going for a walk. I can play in an hour though!' you patiently waited and he replied quickly. 'k' huffing you closed your laptop, charging it before you left.
During the winter, the sun went down faster than usual. So around 7ish the streets were empty for walkers except for the occasional dog walkers.
The sound of quiet foot steps penetrated your mind. Snapping your head around you're faced with empty streets, probably paranoia you thought. You turned your music up walking down your usual route.
Even with the music playing you couldn't help but hear footsteps everywhere. You weren't so far from the park... just 3 more blocks.
The feeling of being watched burns your neck, you really should've turned around. Pounding footsteps come running towards you but you were too late. Your screams were demoted to tiny whimpers as you weakly try grasping the needle in your neck.
You were freezing, your arms and legs were duct taped together. It was a pretty lazy job, but whatever kind of tape it was was pretty fucking strong. Your vision was blurred with tears and you whimper into your gag and curled into yourself seeming to have missed the boy sitting at the desk across the room.
It wasn't until you heard the creaking of the chair and light footsteps that you felt panic. Your eyes remained closed even when he was right by your face.
The bed dipped down, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you" a small crying noise comes out from your gag as you try to beg him to stay away. He shushed you coming closer but all you could do was shake your head and try to move away, "Hey, it's ok" he spoke to you like a stray kitten as he slowly approached your trembling body, "Sh... It's only me" you knew that. But that didn't stop you from squirming in his arm as you tried pushing him away. He tisked at your pitiful attempt, " 'm really sorry for not approaching you" he mumbles kissing your head. "I knew you were lonely..." he chuckles, "But that honestly made things even easier" he let's you go and stands up. "I've been waiting a while to do this you know" he pulls out a black box. He opened it and paused "I've always been curious to see how your pretty face would look with a full pussy" he pulls out 3 big dildos, "and ass" he smirks pulling out a condom. "2 v. 2?"
#tw yandere#tw kidnapping#yandere#tw noncon#haikyu smut#haikyuu yandere#yandere haikyu x reader#yandere haikyuu#yandere kenma#yandere kozume#kenma kozume
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Friends don't kiss friends. part 1
You and Carl have been best friends since childhood, when you were still terribly messy kids. You practically grew up at the Gallagher's, you were next-door neighbors, and when you weren't there, you were at Alibi's with your parents, Veronica and Kevin. You were with him at all times, at least the most important ones. And some it was you who made them come true, like his first French kiss behind school.
You were the first one Carl liked, that's why you were such friends, he really liked you a lot. You were the first one who aroused something in him, sexual or not. And for that, you were the one chosen for his first kiss, his first dance performance at school, the first one he ran to with a can of vegetables with a hundred thousand dollars in it, and you buried yourself in some wild terror. Your favorite weapon was delivered to you in the school bathroom. And the first woman, except Fiona, who saw him when she got back from juvie.
You guys had some disagreements when he came back saying he was black and forcing a ridiculous black accent, acting like a sick gangster. The braids in his hair almost made you kill him. His mother scolded him immediately. He was someone else, not the Carl you knew but who knew he was there, somewhere, but he was. But you couldn't stay away from him long, and within two weeks you were talking normally.
Or the first person he asked for love advice when he started to have feelings for Dominic, he did everything for her, but unfortunately it wasn't enough. She betrayed him and contracted gonorrhea, the sages say: karma is like a kick in the ass. You were the one who took him in, and then went with him to take a test, where he discovered that he didn't have the disease, and the certainty that she betrayed him.
You were the first one he ever told about his shitty parents, not that you didn't know, you lived with him. But it went deeper, he told you how he felt about Monia's death and how he felt like a failure for years, especially after what happened to G-Dog, but you brought him back to who he always was.
And shit, those damn words almost made you choke on the beer you were drinking. "Back to life," what did he mean by that? What were you to him anyway? That was a question you didn't mean to ask. You two have always been best friends, both of you have always prioritized friendship above anything else, you didn't want to risk it and end up losing your love.
You were at his house now, lying on his couch missing him. It's been almost five days since you've seen each other, even though you lived within meters of each other. "Hey Mom. I'm going to Gallagher's!" you yell, she yells back saying it's okay and that she's going to be on Alibi. You leave the house wrapping your headset around your cell phone, shoving your hands in your sweatshirt pocket.
You look around and see no cars, it was a cloudy and relatively cold day. You walk down the sidewalk taking the few steps to Gallagher's house, and surprisingly you still haven't heard any screams, groans or anything breaking. You jump the playpen at the house, sell a Frank passed out - or not, sleeping or dead on one of the stairs. You ignore that old junkie shit and head upstairs ringing the doorbell.
The door is almost always open, but you don't think it's polite to walk in without knocking, especially not to find someone fucking on the couch or in the kitchen. The door is quickly opened by Lip, who has wide blue eyes, but he relaxes as he recognizes you. "Fuck, I thought it was the social worker." she whispers in relief "Hey girl. What are you doing here?" he asks giving you space to enter, so you do.
"I came to torment C-Dog." you say smiling, he laughs with a cigarette stuck to his lips. "Right." he sits on the sofa. "Where are the rest of the staff? This house is insanely quiet and it makes me wonder if no one is drugged or dead." you say, Lip laughs puffing out his cigarette. "No, no. Debbies is out with Franny, Fiona is at the diner, Ian is probably fucking some gay guy and Liam is in school."
"Uh…I thought things between Ian and Mickey were serious." you talk, Lip shrugs. "They're coming and going because of their bipolarity." "Got it. I'm going up." you say starting up the living room stairs, Lip nods turning on the television. You walk down the hall really seeing the empty rooms, you go to Carl's and give a few rings, nobody comes to open it and you don't hear anything.
Then, slowly you pull the doorknob covering his eyes, an immediate action upon entering his room since you found out he slept naked sometimes. You enter the room one finger at a time until you are sure there is no one in the room. "Y/N?" a hoarse voice comes from behind you, and you jump in fright. "Oh shit Carl. You scared me!" you gasp putting your hand on your chest, he laughs walking into the room.
He rummages through your clothes thrown across the bed so you don't know which ones are dirty or clean, and just then you notice a white towel drapes around your hips. Leaving his luscious abs showing, it was a fact that Gallagher came back a hundred times hotter from jail, you'd admit that yourself.
You grab a random playboy magazine from under his bed, throwing his body on the bed you cross your legs opening the magazine as he changes. Even though you've seen each other almost naked a few times, or else in your underwear and panties and bra several times, you respected your privacy. You flip through the pages of magazines, naked women posing or wearing costumes.
"Wow, that's hot." you say smiling, Carl looks at you without understanding. You turn the magazine over to him "Oh, she is." you notice that he has his legs covered by sweatpants, my biceps are still uncovered. You return to the magazine, pushing away any inappropriate thoughts. "I'm dressed. What are you doing here?" he asks sitting next to her on the bed. "I was bored and I have a best friend living next door to me so…" he laughs, pinching her ear. "I understand. What do you want to do?"
"I don't know, man. We can do whatever you want but I'm honestly really hungry so I'd like to stop by Paty's first." you say closing the magazine. "Right." he smiles, you roll your eyes around his extremely disorganized room. "God, Carl. Did you know Fi has a laundry basket in the hallway? Or you could start washing them then." you turn up your nose when you smell one of his shirts.
"Ah... mind your own business girl!" he exclaims smiling and ruffling your hair, you shake your head. "Fuck, let's go to Paty's before I end up eating you." you sigh, feeling a knot in your stomach, Carl looks at you slyly "Oh no! Shit no! Carl fuck you!" you exclaim, closing your eyes tightly, denying it, but - I would like to - was what crossed your mind.
"Wow, ok. I thought you thought I was super hot and all..." he laments pretending to be offended, putting his hand to his chest. "Oh yes- yes you are. I just-" You can't find the words, he laughs with his total fishy face, not even able to think. "I understood. I'm just playing with you. Come on babe." he says laughing and pulling your shoulders to walk with him, you laugh but you're still extremely embarrassed by it.
"Hey, Ian!" Carl walks past him, Ian ruffles his hair. "Hi guys, and hi Y/N. I haven't seen you in like a week?" Ian says it more like a question, you nod. "And Kevin, have you recovered from your vasectomy?" "Yeah, I had to take some time off after I saw Frank fuck a homeless girl in the kitchen." Ian laughs loudly, throwing his head back in the chair. "I swear, it was 'fucking traumatizing!' you laugh along with him, Carl laughs at both of you. "Where are you going?" Ian asks with a beer in his hand. "Paty's, and then some Chicago alley." Carl responds. "beauty." Lip goes upstairs.
Carl walks to the front door, you stop him. "I think we'd better go around the back. There's a Frank passed out in your driveway." you say sarcastically, Carl rolls his eyes. "Fuck that old man." he says walking to the kitchen door, you follow him with a smile on your face.
You walk in front of your house, the truck is still in the driveway. "Do your parents really let you drive?" Carl asks as you turn the keys in the door. "Hm, no. Ve says I might get hurt, but Kev doesn't care. He thinks it's radical!" you say excitedly, Carl smirks at you.
"Too badass. I drive Fiona's car sometimes, it's nice." he comments, you two get in the car sitting on the seats. "Yes, it is. When I get my license, I'm going out at dawn with you to all the car races." you say smiling, which makes Carl smile as he remembers the things you guys did to make it to the city limits for the damn clandestine races. "Uh, great. I really don't want to have to bike to the end of Chicago."
"Right, right." you chuckle at it "Just a year to go or maybe two..." "Sixteen is the new seventeen." he says, you nod turning on the radio. "Birthday Sex" blasts through the loudspeakers, you and Carl singing the lyrics perfectly as if you were at a live show. In fifteen minutes you were already in Paty's, you park the car just before the entrance to the store. Carl walks out the door normally and you jump out of the truck, the two of you enter the diner.
You move to one of the tables facing the street, Carl follows you and you sit opposite each other. A knowledgeable attendant comes to you. "Hey guys, can I take your order?" she asks smiling, you take a good look at the menu even though you know it like the back of her hand. "Hey fely! An x-bacon with double fries and a coke. Please" Carl says, Felicity writes it down on paper. "What about you, Y/N? The same as always?" she asks still with a smile on her face, you think for a moment. "Hm... Same as him. And pancakes. With honey, lots of whipped cream and strawberries. Please." she notes. "Yes, someone had come to serve them." "Thanks." you both say thanks, she leaves to take more orders.
You two look at each other but don't say anything. You start snapping your fingers. "So…what have you been doing?" Carl asks breaking the silence. "The usual. Taking care of the bar, the twins, studying and sleeping. No big deal." you shrug your shoulders. "And have you been seeing anyone? Like a hookup?" you shake your head "No. Nobody. And you?" "Nobody either. But I like a girl." he says low, you're a little surprised. "Oh good Carl. Who is it?" "A girl over there, you don't know..." "Okay. Can you tell me about her?"
"Well, she's quite outgoing. She likes games and has questionable taste in music. She loves riding her old skateboard." he tells you the details, you laugh at the last remark. " She's a good girl so then. I'm happy for you, asshole." you run your hands through his hair, ruffling his strands. "Yeah, she is. She's pretty pretty too, like, awesome." You nod, seeing one of the waiters come with their orders. He puts it on the table, you thank him with smiles. You quickly pick up your burger and bring it to your mouth, taking a big bite.
The incredible taste of the fried bancon, the melted cheese and the grilled meat had you moaning in satisfaction. "Oh, God. This is fucking better than a blowjob!" you exclaim, Carl raises an eyebrow at you. "Have you ever gotten a blowjob in your life?" "No. But I got blown, and I'm sure I say this is way better." he shakes his head laughing, you notice the little bag of ketchup being poured into his burger, you frown at that sinful act. "Bro, are you really using that red sauce in a x-bacon? That's like a crime in Italy, man." you say taking another bite of yours, Carl throws the empty ketchup bag at you.
"Fuck Italy and its pizzas without ketchup! We're in America." he grumbles, you laugh. "That fucking is a godsend honey, there's no reason not to use it." "Uh, ok. At least you know Italy is not an American country." you mock him, Carl looks at you like you've said the most shocking thing in the world, the boy throws two potato in your face. "Hey you shit! Don't throw that at me." you exclaim, an elderly couple next to you complains about the noise. "Can you guys not scream or throw your cockroaches? Shitty ghetto teenagers. They don't know how to behave anywhere." the old woman mumbles the last sentence.
"I'm sorry gentlemen." you smile falsely at they, looking at Carl who was laughing hysterically. You shoot him a death glare. "Old bastards. I'm going to make these fags eat dust." you claim looking at your delicious pancakes. "But I'll get this over with first" "Yes you will." Cal says still laughing.
You finish quickly and compete with Carl to see who eats the most pancakes in the least amount of time, you obviously win with 7 pancakes in two minutes, but Carl is a good competitor with five. You both laugh when you notice that his lips are full of whipped cream, and so is the tip of his nose. The old people from before complain again, saying that you are noises. "Enough. I'm going to make this old woman hear some truths. Shitty South Zone bitch!" You get up from your desk, reaching into one of the pockets of your shorts, placing some bills on the table.
Carl too, with his wallet in his hands. "I pay." you two say together, laughing then. "Hey big boy, I pay. I brought you here, it's ok but next time it's you." you threaten with your lower finger pointed at him. "Right." "Now C-Dog, stand there and watch me fuck these old men." you tell him you're close to the exit. "Oh, go for it girl." he whispers to you, who gestures with your hands to him following you to the elderly couple's table.
"Hey good afternoon." you smile sympathetically sitting next to them. "What you want?" the woman asks arrogantly, looking you up and down. "Ah...no big deal. It's just that I actually heard you complain about me and the boy with me, I had to come here." you say sadist, eating a potato of them. "So what, girl?" She rolls her eyes. "It's just that I was a little hurt, you know? I thought you were pretty, that's fine for such an old age. But then you opened your little shit mouth, saying really prejudiced things. And I thought, I should punch some respect in this bitch." you wink at her, the lady looks at you with a hateful expression. "So, here's my darling lesson."
You pick up your glass of soda, you take a few sips, and then you spit the drink back into the glass. You smile at her before slowly pouring the coke under her head. She starts screaming getting the attention of customers calling you a ghetto rat. "Go back to the south side, motherfucker!" you exclaim, spitting in your food, standing up and feeling Carl proud stares at you. Fiona comes up to you, you think she's going to scold you but you're surprised when she applauds you. "Aren't you angry? Those customers with money never came back here." she denies smiling. "No, really. You did me a damn favor, I hate those old men, they always come here and complain about the food or my people."
"Oh, that's great then!" you smile, she nods throwing a cloth over her shoulders. "We left the money on the table, Bye Fi!" Carl yells opening the front door, she yells back an "ok" you walk out of there with you feeling insanely good. "Girl, I fucking worship you! You fucked with them." Carl exclaims jumping up and down, you laugh at him. "It's no big deal. It was deserved." you get in the car, and you start it. "Certainly." he says putting on his seat belt.
You start the pickup. Carl doesn't stop looking at you for a second, especially his hair flying in the wind invading the car through the windows. He's totally mesmerized by you, and seeing you defend him in a way has only made him more in love with you than he is. He was sure you were an amazing woman when you told him you faced men who were harassing you, but he was even more sure now, seeing your enviable posture up close.
That was the thing you loved most about Carl and that he admired most about you. You two wouldn't let anyone say shit about you, or whoever was important to you. It could be the biggest truth in the world, but the Gallagher's don't let anything go unnoticed. You had a trust that he sincerely always wanted to have for him, Carl was always a bully, stealing food and hitting some carusos when necessary. But you did even worse as a kid, and it's not something you're proud of, but you were just a kid angry about not being adopted.
And when Kevin and Veronica adopted you and welcomed you into their home, things changed, but there are things that don't change. "Where you want to go?" you ask, Carl blinks a few times. "I don't know... maybe in that abandoned terrano of the Díaz's? I heard that there are some people from our school going there to smoke and skip class."
"So that's where we're going, bro." you turn the car around the corner, turning onto the avenue. "Do you have cigarettes there? My dad never leaves them in the car because of the twins." he nods pulling a box out of his pants pocket. "Here." he hands you a pack, you hold it to your lips, Carl takes your lit lighter to the end of his cigarette, lighting it, you thank him.
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UMAMA
Word Count: 4.1k
Contains: PURE FLUFF!!
“Shiiitt” Shuri groaned half awake, only because a little foot had connected with her rib cage. “That’s what you get for letting him sleep with us last night. ‘It’S CoOl ZaH! YouR mOmS trIpPing YoU cAn StAy.” Your groggy voice came from the other side of the bed. “It’s a king sized bed I figured there was plenty of space.” She pouted. “Yea. You didn’t foresee him being horizontal by morning huh?” Shuri chuckled turning onto her back running a hand over her face. “No. I didn’t actually.”
“Mmhmm” You throw the covers off of your body, sitting up on the side of the bed to stretch. “Is it already time for you to get up. It’s still dark out?” Her eyes adjusting to the dark room. “Yes baby it’s 5 am.” You stand to your feet and yawn making your way to the bathroom. “What does Zah do when you have to leave this early and I’m not here?”
“I drop him off at moms and she takes him to school.” Shuri let out a yawn herself. Stretching before getting out of the bed heading into the bathroom right behind you. “Damn, you have my Zah man up this early?” She turned on the water in the sink to brush her teeth as you prepared your shower.
“Not much of a choice Shuri.”
“Why doesn’t your mom just move in to help?”
“Because I’ll be damned.” Shuri let out a small chuckle. “You know you don’t hav-“
“You don’t have to work Intombi entle, move to Wakanda with me and all you have to do is thatha lo mtya ubukhulu. (Take this strap thickness)” squinting your eyes, biting your lip and rubbing your hands together, you give your best Shuri impression. Shuri raised her brow the brushing of her teeth slowing. “Is that supposed to be me?” She said her voice muffled by her toothbrush. “That’s all you baby girl and you know it. That’s why you’re trying not to laugh.” You say removing your clothes. Shuri finally let go of her laugh. “That was pretty good sthandwa. Your Xhosa is getting exceptional.”
She spat and rinsed her mouth as you got ready to step into the shower, when suddenly you were pulled back by strong arms. A small shriek left your mouth as Shuri kissed her way down your back making you Shiver. “Baby I have to shower so I can gooo.” You chastise. “I know *kiss* I know. Just let me get full before you leave.” She placed another kiss at the center of your back and you let out a moan. Before you could reply a sharp pain shot through your ass. “Shuri what the fuck!” She’d bitten you and was latching on. “Girl let go of my ass. You’re gonna make me wake up Zah.” She released your bottom but not before giving your bite mark a huge suck to sooth it. “I couldn’t help it. Just look at that shit.”
“Only you would brush your teeth and then bite and suck dirty ass” Shuri scrunched her face in faux confusion. “Was it dirty? Let me smell.”
“Shuri get the fuck away from me. It’s too early for this shit.” You laugh and she joins. “I could smell it over by the sink anyway.” You throw a shampoo bottle at her as she ran out of the bathroom just in time to not get hit. “Veeeery slow sthandwa. We gotta work on that.” She spoke low from the other side of the door. She looked over at the bed and Zah was still sound asleep. Comforter bunched up around him his head now at the end of the bed. She chuckled shaking her head as she headed down stairs to make you some breakfast.
“Damn it smells good in here baby!” You walked in the kitchen to find Shuri putting the final touches on your plate of food. With her purple and black “Chef Panther” apron on and a dish towel tossed over her shoulder. Seeing her like this always gave you butterflies. How in the hell did you get so lucky.
“Have a seat sthandwa sam. I made a lovely breakfast for a lovely lady. Some French toast with pumpkin spice whipped cream, made with Ezekiel bread I already know how you are. Turkey bacon and hashbrowns. And I’m finishing up your energy te-“ Shuri stopped in her tracks when she turned around and got a glimpse of your attire for the day. You’d decided to rock a grey power suit with a matching trench and you looked scrumptious! “Well Damn daddy, I didn’t know it was your turn to be daddy today?” Shuri sat your plate down at the bar before walking up to you and wrapping her arms around your waist. “Ooouu. Daddy huh? I might like that. Don’t mess around and let me get used to it.” You say seductively.
“If you’re gonna keep dressing like this you might as well cause this suit is bringing out the woman in me.” She purred. You threw your head back in a laugh. “Well you got it down pact. Look at you barefoot and in the kitchen.” You reached around her body to smack and squeeze her ass. “Staying in a woman’s place.” You bite your lip giving her low seductive eyes. “Oh shit! You gon be my sugar daddy!” She said in her best American accent. She stuck her tongue between her teeth and moved imaginary hair behind her ear. You burst out laughing. “Girl move!” She laughed removing herself from you allowing you to sit down and eat. She sat with you as you ate and had a cup of tea.
“Ok babe. Now seriously. Remember school starts at 8am so you and Zah need to be out of here no later than 7:15 which means you need to be getting him up in the next 15 minutes!” You say while finishing up your plate and standing up to rinse it off.
“Moooommy, mooommy, mooommy…” She says sarcastically and you give her your best mommy stare down. “I knoooow the schedule. You went over this thousands of times last night. I’m a genius babe I think I can handle Zah for a day.” You put on your gloves. “I know, I know. I just want to make sure you don’t overwhelm yourself with him this morning.”
Shuri walks up to you, wrapping you up in her arms and pulling your chin up to where your mouths would meet. “I got him babe. He’ll be safe and well taken care of. I know you’re not used to leaving him in just anyone’s hands. But I’m not just anyone. I love him more than I love you.” You immediately pop her in the back of the head already knowing she couldn’t be serious for more than two seconds. “Ow! Don’t be a hater ubusi!” You both laugh. “Thank you baby. Really.” She places a light kiss on your lips. “Its nothing. I got you. The both of you. Now get out of here, so I can wake up Zah. Have an amazing day at work, and when you get home I’ll have dinner ready. We’ll watch some holiday movies, and tonight, I’ll make your body feel brand new. How would you like that?” She says placeing light kisses on your neck and you wrap your arms around her neck and let out a moan.
“Mmm. I’d like that a lot.”
“I know.” She said as she nuzzled her nose into your neck. You pulled back “ Ok seriously I gotta go baby. I’ll be here all day with you.” You step out of her arms and grab your purse. “Ok. And I want names for everyone who looks at your titties today.”
“Shuri be for real for just a minute per day.” She laughs as you head out of the door. “Bye baby! I love you” You toss over your shoulder as you walk out.”
“I love you too mama!”
Shuri entered the room seeing Zah still sound asleep. She sat at the edge of the bed and nudged him lightly in his side. “Zah man. It’s time to get up little guy.” Zah didn’t budge. She pressed at his shoulder shaking a bit harder.“Come on kiddo.” She repeated. Zah groaned holding the covers over his head tighter. “Ooooh no.. nope it’s time to get up! I have to get you out of here on time. So your mom doesn’t trip on me. Work with me kiddo.” She said pulling the cover from over his head.
“Uuuggghhh! I don’t wanna gooo!” He’d pulled the covers back over his head and his little muffled voice spoke from under the covers.
“Uuuuggghhh! But you have to!” She mocked sarcastically.
“Whyyy?”
“Because your mommy said so. Lets go and I’ll make you pancakes”
“Pancakes?” Zah repeated sitting up. Suddenly interested. “Your pancakes? Not the healthy ones mommy tries to makes me?” Shuri chuckled. “Well your moms not here to cook them. So yes! My pancakes.”
“PANCAKES YAAAAYYY!!” Zah hopped up, throwing his hands in the air and wiggling his little knees as Shuri laughed. She picked him up carrying him at her side like a football. He screamed with laughter as she dropped him off at the bathroom in his room. “Alright do your business. Brush your teeth, wash your face, and PEE!!” Zah giggled.
“PANCAKES!” Shuri yelled as she sat a tray full of an assortment of her famous pancakes in front of Zah. They both were now fully dressed ready for the day. She’d made regular, chocolate, blueberry, and strawberry. Zah clapped his hands and immediately placed Strawberry and Chocolate onto his plate drowned them in syrup and dove in. Shuri sat to eat the remainder with him.
“Shuri.” Zah says
“Hm?” She responded mouth full.
“I don’t wanna go to school”
“Zah, I don’t want to hear it. You’re already dressed and ready to go and you have to go learn all that you can so you can come to Wakanda and help me in my lab.”
“But it’s the last day before Thanksgiving break! We’re not learning anything. Just watching a movie. And I’ve already seen Trolls like a bagillion times!”
Shuri gave an exasperated sigh. “That does sound like a pretty lame day.”
“I want to hang out with you. It would be a bunch more educational.” Zah looked at Shuri smiling from ear to ear, giving her the cutest puppy dog eyes.
“Laying it on thick huh?” Shuri smirked
Shuri sat in contemplation. Her hand coming up to rub her chin. After a moment she looked back at Zah. “Ok. You can hang with me.”
“Yeeeeesssssss!!!!” Zah jumped up wrapping his arms around Shuri. “Thank you. You’re the coolest!”
“Yea yea I know! Calm down, we’ve gotta go over our game plan. Are you listening?”
“Yes!” Zah yelled. “Oookay!” Shuri says enthusiastically. She points a finger at him.
“So first off, if your mom calls I’ll point at you. And when I point you freeze. Hold your breath if you have to. But she CAN NOT know that you are with me. Let’s practice. Dance.”
Zah stands and starts doing his version of the gritty. “Ooouuuu kill ‘em Zah! Go Zah, go Zah.” Shuri hyped and then she pointed.
“Like this.” Zah stood frozen in a running position with his mouth in a bubble.
“Boom! Juuuuust like that. You’re brilliant!” Shuri gave a slow clap. “Now if your mom asks about your day. It was great school day, you had fun. You ate cookies, and watched trolls. Got it.”
“Got it!”
“Your mom can NEVER know about today.”
Zah shook his head “Never!” Shuri smiled as they did their special handshake. “Partner in crime forever.”
“Ok kid. How do you feel about a trip to the avengers headquarters?”
“Let’s Gooo!!”
“Shuri look!!” Shuri looked up just in time to see Peter hanging upside down from the ceiling as he held Zah.
“Really Pete.. Get down!” Shuri scolded.
“Why? He’s having fun! Kids in a room full of super heroes it’s not like hes gonna get hurt.”
She shook her head turning and continuing her call as Peter began swinging around the building with Zah hanging on having the time of his life. “Becareful!!”
“Whatever Panther!” Shuri rolled her eyes.
“She’s going to kill you Shuri.” Riri stated. Riri and Shuri were able to remain friends and colleagues after Shuri opened up to her about the way she’d always felt about you. Riri was very supportive of you and Shuri’s relationship and was now in her own happy relationship as well.
“She’ll never know.” Riri smirked on her end of the call. “You think so? Hmm ok.” Shuri smacked her lips. “ Oh ye, of little faith.”
“And oh ye of little knowledge. She’s gonna find out and she’s gonna have your ass for dinner.”
“Ooouu, that sounds like treat.” Shuri smiled
“Ugh! Anywho. I’ll send you the sketches of the updates for my suit. If you can double check those calculations for me.”
“Cool Ri, I got it!”
“Thank you. And good luck.”
“I don’t need luck. I’m too smooth.”
“Girl bye!”
As if Riri had spoken you into exisistence immediately your picture popped up in holographic form. Shuri’s heart dropped into her stomach, and in an effort to hang up with Ri she answered your call.
“HEEEEYYY BABYYYYY!!” Shuri said obnoxiously loud in an attempt to get Peters attention so that he could get Zah quiet. You squinted in confusion at Shuri’s unusual amount of enthusiasm.
“Hey babe! I was just calling to see how Zahir got off to school. He wasn’t too much trouble was he.”
“Oh no babe! He was a perfect angel!”
“That’s crazy! He always gives me such a hard time!”
“Well, what can I say sthandwa..” Her eyes followed Peter and Zah praying they stayed off in the distance.
“What’s wrong with you? What are you looking at!”
“Oh, No-“
At that moment Peter flashed by with Zah’s laughter zooming by. Shuri dropped her wrist waving them down. Her face balled up in frustration. She got their attention and pointed at Zah. Zah loudly whispered. “WE GOTTA FREEZE!” Shuri slapped her hand over her forehead. “Fuck. I’m caught.” She whispered. She lifted her wrist back up to her face and there was a stern look on your face.
“Yes, yes you are caught. But not because Peter just flew by dangling my baby in the air from a web! You’re caught because after an hour of a child being absent the school calls to inform me of my child’s absence!” Shuri looks like deer caught in headlights as Zah gathers Peter and everyone within walking distance telling them to freeze and catch a bubble. Whispered laughs echoed the building as everyone played the game staring at Shuri for the signal to move.
Shuri just shakes her head rubbing the back of her neck. “Damn.” She said
“Damn is right. I’ll talk to you when I get home.” You hang up in her face.
“She’s mad as fuck” She whispered
Shuri looks back up and Zah’s face is turning red from him trying to hold his breath. “Holy shit breath!” She says and everyone collectively gasps and burst into laughter.
“Ooouu you said a no no word.”
“And you know know not to say it. So don’t.” Shuri looked at him sternly. “Come here Zah.” Zah ran over to Shuri as she squatted getting eye level with him. “So mommy know and since we’re already in trouble we might as well have blast before your mom takes me out. Wanna go ride go-karts?!”
“YES!”
Shuri took Zah to Fast Eddie’s. They rode the ferris wheel, the train, drove go karts, and played laser tag. They ate pizza and cotton candy and played all the arcade games. Shuri won Zah so many prizes they had to put them on a cart for when they left. Right now they were on the last lap of their last round on the go karts and then they were due home. Shuri had called a cleaning company to make sure the house was spotless when you returned home and had Aneeka let them inand ordered lots of flowers, your favorite Crème brûlée donuts, and she still had to make dinner. So it was time to go.
As Shuri exited the car Zah stayed seated. “Let’s do it one more time!”
“You said that last time Zah. It’s time to go now.”
“It’s not that long and I promise it’ll be the last time.”
“Zah, get out of the car”
“I don’t want to! One more time!”
“Zah! I said NO!” Zah’s lip began to tremble and he began to thrash his little body around in a temper tantrum. Shuri reached into the car unbuckling Zah, pulling him up by his arms and throwing him over her shoulder. She silently walked out of the building with the screaming boy.
“My toys! What about my toys?!” When they get to the car Shuri opens the door sitting him in the car and squatting down to his level.
“You haven’t given me very many reasons to punish you Zah. But, from this day forward you should know that I do not reward bad behavior.
That little show you put on in there will never go over well with me. So you know longer have the privilege of toys. Now sit back, put on your seatbelt, and be quiet.” She states calm and stern. Zah, shocked that Shuri was actually getting on to him. Sat back and did as he was told with tears in his eyes. Shuri checked his seatbelt and shut the door and hopped into the front seat to began a silent journey home. Her heart hurting and her eyes stinging.
“Shuri.” A small voice came from the backseat as the car stopped at a red light. “Yes?” She answered softly.
“Are you mad at me?”
“I am dissapointed yes.”
“Do you hate me?” Shuri turned in her seat looking back as a tear dropped from Zah’s eye.
“No! Absolutely not Zahir. Griot. Initiate automated drive home.”
“Yes, Panther. Initiating automated drive home.” Shuri removed her seatbelt climbing into the backseat.
She wrapped Zah in a hug kissing the top of his head. “I could never hate you! I do the things that I do for you because you’re such a brilliant well mannered child. I love you very much and I love doing things for you. But obedience and gratefulness will get you far little one. There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you and your mother. And neither of you have to act out to get it from me. Is that understood?” Zah nods against Shuri’s chest lt as the car pulled up to the house.
“Now when we get inside I need you to go hang out in your room while I cook and do damage control with your mom.” She let him go and smiled and he gave her a smile back.
“Yes ma’am”
When you got home the smell of a clean home and cooked meal greeted you, along with several assortments of flowers all over the house and soft music playing from the kitchen. You bypassed the kitchen and head right into Zah’s room. He sat peacefully doing a puzzle with “Adventure Time” playing on low on his television.
“Well hello, my little school skipper.” Zah looked up at you with a bashful look on his face.
“Mommy please don’t be mad at Shuri. I talked her into it and she just wanted me to have fun!” You walked further into the room losing the door behind you. “Oh, I don’t doubt that one bit. You should be less concerned about Shuri and more concerned about the trouble you’re in.” Zah gave his best sad face.
“I don’t care about those eyes, hand me that tablet and your switch. I’ll give them back when I see fit.” Zah sighed in defeat getting up to collect his favorite items and had them to you.
“Ok. Get yourself prepared for dinner.”
“I already ate and got sent to my room for the night.” You furrow your brows.
“What?”
“I threw a tantrum on the go karts and Shuri made me leave all of the toys there and sent me too my room.” Your heart fluttered a bit immediately concerned for Shuri.
“Ok. Well do that then. And no youtube.”
“Yes ma’am” He called as you exited the room and headed back down stairs.
As you made it to the top of the stairs you see Shuri at the bottom waiting for you with a glass of wine and an apologetic face. You give her a steely glare as you descend the stairs.
“Sthandwa sam, Ndiyaxolisa kakhulu (I’m so sorry)”
“Don’t you try to Xhosa your way out of this Udaku.” You say removing the glass of wine from her hands and walking past her into the kitchen as you take a sip. Shuri trailed right behind you. Entering the kitchen you find that
she has your favorite meal prepared by candelight. You’re favorite delicacy from your favorite bakery displayed beautifully in the center of the table. You remove your jacket and place it on the back of a chair and turn to face her.
“Shuri what were you thinking!”
“I wasn’t. I just wanted to have a fun day with just him. We never get to hang out by ourselves. And it was the last day before he was on break! They weren’t doing anything anyway.” She spoke fast as if she was a child in trouble with her mom.
“Well I see how he got you.” You say picking up your drink, taking another sip and leaning against the counter. Shuri chuckled dropping her head. “As much as I want to chew into you. I hear you’ve learned your lesson.” She looked up at you with a slight smirk, nodding.
“He went crazy on me. I’d never seen him act like that!”
“It hurt your heart to have to punish him didnt it?”
“Tore me up.” She said with a pained expression. You laugh.
“Where are the toys?” Shuri feigned confusion.
“Huh?”
“The toys you supposedly left at the arcade?” Shuri had once again been caught. “They’re upstairs in the guest closet.” You cocked your head to the side and the both of you burst into laughter.
“You’re such a softie. He only got like that because of all the sweets I’m sure you allowed him to have as he literally hang from the ceiling.” Shuri’s laughter continued.
“I’m sorry about that babe, truly.” She said as she walked up to you placing her hands on your lower back and massaging. “I apologize for adding stress to your day and it will never happen again.” Your head fell forward onto her shoulder.
“Yes you did. But I’ll forgive you because you’re amazing with your hands.” You hummed. “Oh really. I’m good with other things too.” She lifted you up placing you on top of the counter as you squealed. She immediately started kissing on your chest. “Shuri what are you doing?” She took the glass from your hand and placed it away from you on the counter. “Ending my apology properly.” She began unbuttoning your pants. As she continued kissing you. “Babe Zah.”
“He’s on punishment he’s not coming down here.” She gave your thigh a couple of taps. “Lift up.” Without hesitation you lift yourself as she slides your pants and underwear down over thighs sliding them off with your heels still in place. She slid you to the edge of the counter and threw your legs over her shoulders wasting no time spreading your lips and tongue kissing your bud. You gasp, slipping your fingers into her curls and arching your back. “Ooohhhh Fuck! Shuriii”
You’d eaten and been eaten, gotten Zah all bathed and were now settling in a bath that your very apologetic girlfriend had made for you. Shuri was upstairs finishing up a bedtime story for Zah.
“Did you get in trouble?” Zah asked Shuri.
“Big trouble! But it was worth it because we had a blast today and I’ve got a feeling I’m in the clear now” She laughed
“Yea today was the best EVER! Can I ask you a question Shuri?”
“Ofcourse kid.”
“You love me and my mommy right?” Shuri smiled. “More than anything in this world.”
“So you’re going to marry her?” He asked inquisitively. Shuri chuckled.
“That’s the plan. Little man.” Zah smiled big.
“Cool!” Shuri tucked him into his bed. And walked toward the door. “Goodnight,
Zah man.”
“Wait! One more question.”
“What’s up?”
“What do people in Wakanda call their mommies?”
“Umama.”
“Oh ok. Goodnight, Umama.” Shuri’s heart rose into her throat. Her eyes watering. She flicked off the light before her tear fell.
“Goodnight. unyana wam (my son)”
#letitia wright#letitiawright#shuri udaku#spotify#shuri fanfiction#shuri x you#shuri fic#shuri x reader#Spotify
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Taking Matters Into Your Own Hands
Pairing: Eddie Munson x You
Summary: Eddie's on the phone talking to a nerd, and not in bed pleasuring his beloved like he should be. Evil Woman finds a way to make him focus on the important things.
Contains: A vaguely threatening attitude toward Dustin Henderson, stripping for attention, wearing Eddie's battle vest, A Warning.
Words: 600ish
Dustin Henderson will be hearing from your lawyer.
You've been lying ALONE in Eddie's bed for TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES while that damn kid rambles on the phone. You gather from Eddie's side of the conversation that it's about Dungeons & Dragons. Like they don't get enough of that before school, and at lunch, and after school, and at official meetings of The Fucking Hellfire Club.
You like the kid, really you do. You like all of your Hellfire children… usually. But it's Saturday, and he's cutting in on your Eddie Time, and that is against the law. Hence the lawyer you're about to contact.
You look at your watch and roll your eyes again. That's it. You're going to have to take matters into your own hands.
No, not like that.
You're going to force Eddie to take matters into his own hands.
You didn't wear uncomfortable underwear today for nothing.
You peek down the hallway and see Eddie's back still to you, sitting at the kitchen table with the phone cradled to his ear, probably doodling something on an envelope. You roll your eyes and peel off your shirt. If this doesn't work, you're trading him in.
You take off everything except those stupid panties that have been riding up your ass all morning, and reach for Eddie's battle vest. You slip it on and turn around to check yourself out in the mirror above his cluttered desk. Not bad, Evil Woman. Not bad.
You casually stroll out of his room and into the kitchen, like your only goal is to get a drink of water. You even resist the urge to ruffle his hair as you walk by to get his attention. You approach the sink and reach up into the cabinet for a clean cup, and feel the vest lift to show off your ass.
Something clatters behind you. Did he drop the phone? You smirk to yourself and fill the cup halfway, take a sip, and set it on the counter. You slowly turn around to find Eddie staring at you with his mouth open. As you suspected, the phone is on the floor. You lean back against the counter and spread your arms along the edge, placing your palms on the cool surface to show him more of the bare skin beneath his unbuttoned vest.
Still just staring.
You can hear Dustin yelling all the way across the room.
"EDDIE! EDDIE, ARE YOU THERE?"
You cross your arms now, for maximum cleavage, and raise an eyebrow. Make the right choice, Munson.
Without taking his eyes off of you, Eddie fumbles for the phone cord and starts reeling it in. When he gets to the receiver, he holds it up to his face, mumbles "gotta go" into the wrong end, and tries to hang it up without looking. Which means banging it against the wall.
You finally take pity on him and cross the room, taking the phone from his hand and putting it back on the cradle.
He's still just staring.
You stand between his open legs and rake your fingers through his hair. Is he even breathing?
"Did I break you?" you whisper.
He nods silently, eyes wide.
"Let's try a system reboot...y?" you chuckle at your own joke and reach for his hands, placing them on your half-exposed ass cheeks. Eddie's instincts kick in, and he squeezes.
"Next time you ignore me for one of your little sheepies, I'm gonna take matters into my own hands."
He smirks.
"Which means you don't get to play."
His smirk turns to a pout.
"You feel me, Munson?"
"Yes, ma'am," he says, giving your ass another squeeze.
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When Will the Clouds All Disappear? (ch1)
Gregory House x Reader - part of Series If You Want It, You Can Bleed on Me
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: heavy suicidal ideation
“Kind of rude to make a cripple head to the roof of a building to look for you.” You hear his voice, loud and clear behind you, gravelly and distinctly masculine. You’d know it was him anywhere.
“What do you want, Greg?” You ask, sniffling. You're sitting on the ground, your back against the ledge, having made yourself sick staring off it for a good ten minutes before he arrived. Your head is in your hands, blocking him out, blocking everything out. You can’t open your eyes. You can’t bring yourself to look at him.
“You know,” he says firmly. You wish you had four hands so you could block your ears, too. You wish you were senseless. It would be so much easier. So much more peaceful.
“You wouldn’t have to worry anymore. I would just be gone,” you say, and you hate this, you hate everything, you wish he didn’t come up here so you could jump. Guilt-free. You know you look fucking ridiculous, with your hospital gown riding up to your thighs and those stupid non-slip socks damn near falling off your feet. Your hair is blowing wildly in the bitter January wind, and you feel lightheaded and woozy as it is, having pulled out your IV that hooked you up to fluids a half hour ago now.
“That isn’t what I want. I want you to come back downstairs with me.”
“How did you even know I was up here?” you question.
“You’re the one thing I can and can’t predict. Knew you’d come up here when they said you left the bed… still don’t know if anything I can say can get through to you. If you jump I jump?”
You shake your head. “No. You deserve to live.”
“And you don’t think you do?”
“No. And I don’t want to either.”
“Why not? I thought we had fun together.”“But you don’t care—“
“Why am I up here with you freezing my ass off if I don’t care?”
“Just go.”
“Not without you, sweetheart.”
You grimace at the pet name, it sounds so fake coming from his lips. “You didn’t even come to see me,” you whisper.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know what to say.”“Anything would’ve been better than nothing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know. You’ll say anything so I don’t jump,” you say, tasting bitterness acrid on your tongue. You wish you could turn off your brain, but you’ve been here before, seconds to an attempt and still gone through with it with no one to stop you except for your diseased brain. And it was diseased, every impulse usually hardwired to keep your body alive at all costs screaming to be let out of its misery and to just let you die, please. It’s almost like an addiction, instead of one more hit, it’s just like, one more thing to let go of. One more thing to convince yourself doesn’t matter, one more person to convince yourself wants you to die or doesn’t care if you go, one more event you’ll never get to live through that you convince yourself you didn’t want to attend anyway.
“I mean it,” he says urgently. “I’m sorry. Okay? I’ve been a shitty boyfriend, lover, friend with benefits, or whatever you want to call me. I know I’m not the reason you’re contemplating this right now. You’ve struggled with this all your life. I’m not going to fix it. But Jesus Christ. You and I both know this isn’t the goddamn answer. You spent your whole life going to school and working to prevent people from offing themselves.”
“Fuck you,” you mutter.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you,” he says. “I came for the surgery—“
“You had plenty of time to see me. You weren’t there when I needed you to be! I’m just another patient, is that it? Don’t come visit them unless you think you’ll learn something? What was it, you never got to see a D&C before? I called you, Greg. You never answered. I had to call Wilson to make sure you weren’t dead but of course, you weren’t, you were just avoiding me and why should I expect anything more from you? Of course you run when things get hard; when the woman you’ve been fucking might need a little more than after-sex cuddles.” You stand up as you say this, turning your back to him, looking over the ledge. Fuck.
“I’m sorry. Just please don’t jump,” he says and if you were in your right mind you’d notice that he was getting increasingly desperate, but you aren’t noticing much of anything right now. Except that your plans were thwarted. You see firefighters and they’ve already set up a trampoline on the side of the building. You don’t say anything, nothing at all, and you start to walk away from that ledge and then sprint toward the other one, hoping that you can get over there, run faster than he can, but he’s on you, and he moves fast for someone with an injured leg when the adrenaline kicks in, and you feel yourself knocked to the ground, his warm breath fanning your face.
“Got you. You’re not getting away from me that easy,” he says, and you finally look at him for the first time since you’ve been up here. You wish he would crush you to death but he’s barely putting his weight on you, just enough that you can’t move.
“I can’t go through this again,” you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut, and you expect the hysterical tears but they never come. You feel numb. Empty.
“You can. You can and you will.”
“You’re going to put me on a hold?”
“I have to,” he says, and you could trick yourself into thinking there’s guilt in his blue eyes when you open yours again. “I’ll make sure they give you the good stuff. Say you need to be chemically restrained. Order you Haldol, Ativan, or whatever you want. But I need… I need to know you’re safe.”
“So you’ll sedate me?”
“It’s the only way I’ll be able to sleep.”
“Just like you to make it about yourself, huh?”
“Shut up,” he says sternly, tacking your name on the end of the command like a warning. “This isn’t about me. None of this is about me. I know that.”
“Then you should have let me go.”
“One day you’ll thank me,” he says, digging his phone out of his jacket pocket. “Hey. Yeah. I need help bringing her downstairs. She’s not going to go willingly.”
You hate how he’s talking about you the way you would talk about patients to your coworkers, and you hate him for calling Wilson to help him walk you down the stairs. Wilson’s a certified sap, and the look on his face, his brown eyes sympathetic and his brows furrowed… makes you want to hit him, and maybe you’d try if you had the energy to. You don’t want pity. You want to be left to your own devices. You want nothing, hatred, you could stand, but Wilson looking at you like you were a kicked puppy is more than you can handle right now.
“I wasn’t going to jump,” you say, and it’s unconvincing even to your own ears. “I wasn’t even on the ledge when you came up here.”
“Yeah. Well. It’s enough that I don’t believe you,” Greg says. “Your track record sucks. Every attempt has been after a traumatic event. Forgive me for being a little worried.”
You’re about to protest, say he doesn’t know anything, but you know he went through your medical files before the first time your lips touched his. Fair enough. Two could play at that game, certainly, and you took what you felt you could without him getting suspicious out of your file. You looked through his, too, because what’s good for him is by all means fucking good for you too, and if you can’t have normal conversations like a normal couple, at least you could learn about each other unconventionally. Isn’t that love, at least kind of love, searching high and low for information, trying to memorize somebody else like you know yourself?
Never mind that it’s illegal.
You feel his mouth on yours, his scruff scratching pleasantly at your skin, and… yeah. That’s when the fucking tears come.
You wish neither of these men saw you like this. You were meant to be firm, cold but compassionate, distant but likable, albeit only from that distance. You didn’t get close to people, not since you were younger, because you knew how you’d get and you knew it was a horrific sight. Wilson, you love like a brother, but Gregory… you love irrevocably, irreverently, irreversibly. Intense is an understatement, and you wish it wasn’t the case, you wish so badly you could turn it off and become the woman you were before that man and his cane hobbled into your life. You wish more than anything you were alone right now.
But then again. You might not be alive.
“Shh. It’s okay,” he says, and you don’t believe him. He doesn’t believe it himself. It’s just something to say. And he hates those clichés. He hates talking just to talk. Yet … he says that to you. He lies to you, just for your benefit. Everybody lies.. but it's usually for their own gain. “I don’t want to make this worse than it has to be,” he says slowly. “Make this easy for us.”
“You have drugs on you, Greg,” you say, rolling your eyes through your tears. You hate that you know him this well. “You’re prepared to sedate me regardless.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t want to have to get to that point. Would you rather be sedated? Because I can arrange that.”
“Get off me.”
“Are you going to walk with us?”
“Yeah,” you huff.
“Good girl,” he says, and in a different context that would lead to something very different than this. But no. He lifts himself off you instead of dicking you down, wincing when he puts his weight back on his leg, and he and Wilson both help you off the concrete roof. It’s now you realize your back is scraped from when Greg pushed you down, and you grimace as you stand up. Everything hurts.
You have four strong hands on your body now, Wilson’s thin graceful fingers wrapping around your left arm, the other hand on the small of your back to steady you. Greg, you’re more fine with seeing you this way, he’s a train wreck himself and you’ve gotten him out of his shell before. But Wilson? He’s got everything together, well, except for his marriages. House’s larger hands grip you too, one hand firm on your right shoulder and the other around your side.
It’s a slow walk down the stairs, back into the building and you feel a rush of relief at the feeling of heat on your body, but then it becomes too much and you don’t know what you’re fighting for because you know there’s no way you could run, you may be faster than Greg but there’s no way you’d get by Wilson in your current state, and then you’re pushed against the wall in the staircase, Wilson’s calling for security on a radio and a gurney on the radio, and they’re both holding you there and you’re struggling against them, arms you try to push out of the way and legs you try to kick but it’s to no avail, you feel the slight pinch of a needle in your arm and … that’s it. Maybe this is what you were asking for but you were too ashamed to say, too ashamed to acquiesce verbally to the sedation, too embarrassed to say “no, I need to be unconscious for this, thank you.” But you weren’t too embarrassed to pull a fucking nutty in the staircase of the hospital you work at.
“I would’ve just given it to you,” you hear Greg say. “You don’t have to do everything the hard way.”
And then, thankfully, mercifully, pleasantly, you fade out and away.
#greg house x reader#gregory house x reader#house x reader#house md#hate crimes md#i love this tag#james wilson#gregory house
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I loveee your blog. I was wondering if you could do a fic about picking Eddie up from a party but he’s really really drunk and he promised his gf he wouldn’t go over board but he did maybe some angst and fluff. You can decide the rest. 🤍😁
Oops this got away from me. Sorry if it’s too rambly.
Warnings: some language, angst to fluff, insecurity
WC: 2.3k lol
--
You wish you could say you're sleeping when the phone ring at 2 AM, but you're still awake, cramming for your history test tomorrow. You've been staring at the review sheet for so long that the words start to go blurry. Eddie was supposed to study with you after his Corroded Coffin gig, but he never showed.
Brrrring!
The ring breaks your focus, and you grab the receiver before your parents wake up. "Hello?" you say cautiously.
"Hey, Y/N," it's Gareth. He sounds exhausted as he relays the message to you. "Eddie got wasted and is refusing to leave the bar until he can see you."
You sigh deeply, riddled with both concern and frustration. Eddie's on track to graduate this year--mostly due to your influence--and he's risking it all to get drunk on a random Tuesday night?
"Can you drive him to my place?" you ask, rubbing the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger.
"Lemme ask," he replies, and you hear him call out: "Ed, we'll take you to Y/N, okay?"
"Noooooo," your boyfriend groans in the background. "Wan' her here nowwwwwww."
Gareth brings the phone back to his ear. "So, uh, that's a no-go."
"I'll be right there," you say through gritted teeth, pulling on your sneakers and grabbing your keys.
~
The Hideout is basically empty except for the members of Corroded Coffin. Eddie was slumped over in a barstool, resting his head on the counter. You march in angrily.
"C'mon, Eddie, let's go," you shake him awake. "We gotta get you home."
"Babyyyyyyy!" he exclaims, a drunken grin slowly stretching across his face. "Missed you s'much."
"You wouldn't have to miss me if you came over to study, like you promised," you counter, but you know there's no use arguing with him when he's this far gone.
Jeff scoots off of his stool and walks to you. "I'll help you drag his ass to the car," he offers, and you gratefully accept the help.
"Thank you guys for keeping him safe," you address the group, and they respond with weary smiles and a smattering of don't mention its.
You and Jeff guide Eddie to your car and usher him into the backseat.
"Wan' sit next to you, baby," he whines. "Wan' hold your pretty little hand and kiss your pretty little face."
You shake your head. "Lay down and just...be quiet, Eddie," you mutter, Jeff closes the door and wishes you good luck, and you thank him again before driving off.
"Y/N," Eddie pipes up from behind you, reaching out to touch your arm. You pull away as much as you can without jerking the wheel, "'re you mad at me?"
"We're not talking about this while you're drunk, Eddie," you respond shortly, annoyance evident in your tone.
He rolls over from his side to his back. "I hate when you're mad at me," he hiccups. "Just' wan' make you happy, sweetheart."
You want to scream at him, tell him that what would make you happy is him actually graduating this year, walking the across the stage to get his diploma, maybe even going to college with you. Instead, you clamp your mouth shut and focus on the road.
You leave your car running while you help Eddie out of the backseat and into the trailer. "You're not gonna stay?" he pouts, practically falling onto you.
"No," you reply tersely, "I have to get up in three hours to get ready for school. You know, that place you've been for six years? Where we have a huge history test second period?"
"Oh, shit," he exhales, and then laughs uncontrollably. "Yeah, fuck that place."
You bring him to his bed and place the garbage pail next to it. "In case you throw up," you remind him, heading for the door.
"You're really gon' leave me?" His laughs cease immediately; now, he looks like he's about to cry.
"Good night, Eddie," is all you can manage, too frustrated and disappointed to think straight.
~
Unsurprisingly, Eddie's not at school the next day. You successfully beg Mrs. Click to let him take the test tomorrow, saying that he has food poisoning. She buys the excuse, probably because of Eddie's newly-decent attendance record.
When he told you that he was determined to graduate, that '86 would be his year, you'd held him to it. You constantly reminded him of his goal, turned dates into study sessions, and had some pretty...fun rewards when he got answers correct. D-minuses and Fs gradually turned into C-pluses and B-minuses (with the exception of the "D" in O'Donnell's class, but you can't win 'em all).
You love seeing him motivated, tongue poking out of his mouth as he wracks his brain for vocabulary word definitions and math formulas. You love when he passes a test and hugs you tight, spinning you around, huge smiles on both of your faces. You love when he shows Wayne his grades with childlike enthusiasm, and the older man gives you a little wink.
You don't love Eddie's self-sabotaging behavior, and you plan to make that known.
That opportunity knocks earlier than you anticipate: he's sitting on your front steps when you pull into your driveway.
He looks up at you with his beautiful brown eyes. “Hey,” he says softly, fidgeting with his rings.
“Hey,” you respond. “Click said you can take the test tomorrow before school.”
“Thanks.” He bites his lower lip. “Can we, uh, can we talk?”
“Go for it. Explain to me why you thought getting plastered last night was a good idea.”
Eddie breathes out, puffing his cheeks. “After our gig, one of the regulars came up to me. He goes, ‘don’t see your girl out here tonight.’ And when I told him you were studying at home, he, um,” his eyes drop in shame, “he asked me what a smart girl was doing with someone like me.”
Your heart pangs with sadness, knowing how sensitive Eddie is about his intelligence, especially compared to yours. Still, it doesn’t excuse his behavior. “So a middle-age drunk makes a stupid comment, and you decide to get wasted?”
“He’s got a point, though,” he says sadly, “and it got me thinking...what if I don’t get into Indiana State with you?”
“First of all, he doesn’t have any point.” You take a seat next to him. “You’re smart; you just need help focusing on the right stuff. And second, we talked about that. You’ll go to Hawkins Community College for two years, get your grades up, and then join me.”
Eddie plows ahead, seemingly ignoring your response. “Or what if I get in, but I flunk out? Or realize that college isn’t for me?”
“Then you’ll figure out what you wanna do, Eds. There’s trial-and-error in it sometimes.”
He sighs. “I miss when I didn’t even try. Couldn’t be disappointed because I already knew I failed.”
You stand up and sling your backpack over your shoulder. “Sorry for ruining your lifelong pity-party.” You start to open the door, but turn around before the key clicks in the lock. “Y’know, Eddie, I really love you. I want you to graduate and experience new things, which is why I’ve pushed you so hard to study and go to class. But I can’t make you want it,” you give him a pointed look. “That has to come from you.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want that,” he shoots back. “And maybe we’re just too different.”
You take a step back. You’d thought this was just a typical argument, one that would be resolved with talking and time. “W-what are you trying to say?”
Eddie can’t even make eye contact with you; if he does, he’ll start to cry. “Thanks for talking to Click for me,” he mumbles, gets in his van, and speeds down the block.
~
Three weeks go by; weeks filled with tears and endless games of what-if that your brain likes to conjure up. Good things happened in that time, though: you found out you were accepted into Indiana State with a full scholarship. The first thought that crossed your mind, before even allowing yourself to celebrate, was I wonder if Eddie got in. That brought on a fresh batch of tears.
School is rough. You used to sit at Eddie’s lunch table, legs stretched out on his lap while he rested his arms on your thighs. You’d steal pretzels from his bag when we wasn’t looking, and he’d pretend to be furious when he’d inevitably catch you. Now you eat lunch alone in the library.
And the classes you have together? You do your best not to look at him, acting like he’s not even there. You’ve felt his eyes glance at you, but he quickly pulls them away. He’s made no attempt to reconcile, and you’re not about to force an unwanted relationship.
Finally, you decided to try and distract yourself, heading to Family Video to grab some movies. You definitely need to raid the comedy section, desperate to laugh after being sad for so long. You walk into the store, greeted by Steve saying, “Speak of the devil!”
He and Robin laugh at your confusion, so Robin explains, “We were just talking about you.”
“I figured,” you say amusedly. “Good things, I hope.”
“Just about how Harrington is going to fling himself off of Skull Rock if he has to hear Munson talk about you one more time.” Her answer is met with a subtle jab to the ribs from Steve.
You try to manage a chuckle. “Well, I’m sure he has nothing nice to say about me, since I ruined his ambitions of doing nothing for the rest of his life.”
Steve raises his eyebrows. “Oh, you don’t...she doesn’t know,” he turns to Robin.
“I don’t know what?” you ask, curiosity piqued.
“Um,” Steve hesitates, “Eddie’s still in love with you. He wants to get back together but he’s convinced himself you’ll say no.”
You roll your eyes. “He has a habit of thinking that, doesn’t he? I’ll reject him, colleges will reject him, the whole damn world will reject him.”
“Y/N,” Robin says softly, “isn’t that how it’s always been for him? His dad, the people at school...why would he think any different?”
Her words sink in, forming a pit in your stomach. “I guess...I just thought I showed him that I wasn’t like that.”
“And you did,” Robin reassures you, “but it’ll take time and patience for him to fully believe it. Right, Steve?” She turns to where Steve had been standing, but no one’s there now. “Uh, Steve?”
“Sorry,” Steve calls out from the break room. “Had to pee.”
You and Robin share a small laugh. Neither of you realize that he was lying until you hear the familiar rumble of Eddie’s van outside of the store.
“Steve, what did you do?” you hiss as Eddie parks and jumps onto the pavement.
“I’m fixing things,” he says with a shrug, pulling you into the back room. You hear the chime jingle and Robin’s voice saying, “She’s in there,” and before you know it, you’re face to face with Eddie Munson.
“I have something for you.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. You only have to read the first two lines:
Dear Mr. Munson,
We are pleased to offer you admission to Indiana State University beginning in the Fall 1986 term.
“You got in.” A few weeks ago, you would have pulled him in for a kiss so passionate, his legs would’ve turned to Jell-O. Now, you only offer him a small smile. “That’s amazing. Are you gonna go?”
Eddie nods. “Yeah. I won’t know what’ll happen if I don’t try.” He laughs after he says the last part.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothin’,” he averts his gaze, “that’s, uh, that’s what Harrington said to me when I was nervous about asking you out.”
“He’s always been good at meddling,” you mutter, not unkindly.
Eddie steps towards you, his hand softly nudging yours. “As soon as I got this letter, all I wanted was to tell you. I picked up the phone so many times but I could never work up the courage to dial the number.”
“I’m really proud of you,” you tell him. “But you should do what you want to do, not what you think I want you to do.”
He shakes his head. “I want to give college a shot. Don’t get me wrong, I’m scared shitless,” he admits shyly, “but I didn’t work this hard for nothing.”
“Well, then, that’s really good,” you offer weakly. “I’ll, uh, see you around.” You start for the door, but his hand gently grabs your wrist.
“Wait,” he blurts out, “please don’t go.” There are tears in his eyes. “I didn’t come here just to show you that letter. I...I still love you Y/N. So much.”
You swallow the lump in your throat. “I still love you, too. But...you said...”
“I know what I said. And I was being stupid, a coward, running away when things got scary.” You reach over to wipe the tears from his cheeks, and he lets you. “We’re different, yeah, but in a good way. You remind me to keep focused and stay motivated, and I remind you to enjoy yourself and break the rules every once in awhile.”
“We do make a good team,” you concede, allowing yourself to really look into his eyes. They melt you immediately. “But, Eddie, you can’t be getting drunk and blowing off your responsibilities any time you feel insecure.”
He nods. “I know. I don’t want to do that. It hurts me and it hurts you.” He sniffles. “Please, please take me back.” He drops to his knees and wraps his arms around your waist, making you giggle.
“Get up, dingus,” you say between laughs, borrowing Robin’s favorite insult. “I’ll take you back on one condition.”
“Anything,” he says, holding up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Don’t become that douche on the quad who plays guitar for the sorority girls.”
Eddie leans into you, pressing a smiling kiss to your lips. “That’s easy,” he says as he pulls away. “I only have one girl I wanna impress, anyway.”
--
#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie x you#eddie x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#requests
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Snapemas 22~ Severus Snape xFem Reader
Happy Kinkmas 2022!!!
Here’s your Severus Snape christmas fic as promised...
Mommy…Master List
Severus Snape Master List
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, sex, exhibitionist sex, public sex, public sex kink, exhibitionist kink, ass fucking, pet name kink, degrading kink, More Snape filth
841 Words
Enjoy (;
It was Christmas time at Hogwarts, and most of the students and staff had gone back home. There were a few stragglers left at the school, some students, a few professors, Severus, and you.
You and Severus had been in a quiet relationship since the summer, and we’re trying extremely hard to keep it from everyone (Severus had insisted as he didn’t want his reputation to taint yours, as you were greatly liked by the students).
And to be honest, you kinda liked the privacy of no one knowing, well except Minnie… She immediately figured it out.
But it was Minerva, of course she figured it out.
Besides that, you and Severus were ready for a cozy, private Christmas at Hogwarts, and Severus had a good deal of prep work for next semester. You had done a bit of decorating in his office (at least as much as he would allow).
On Christmas morning, you awoke in Severus’ bed (you and him had decided since most of everyone was gone, it would be safe enough to finally sleep in the same bed for a time, like you do in Spinners End).
You walked around to find him, and found Severus sitting at his desk prepping on Christmas morning.
Jesus Christ, this man.
You swore he would overwork himself to death one day.
“Hey, Cmon, let’s go for a walk” you tried to nudge him out of his work mode.
He looked up at you a bit startled “Sorry, work to get done. I didn’t realize you were up.”
You smiled and responded “Happy Christmas by the way”.
Severus chuckled and replied the same to you.
Then you, “Cmon, Sev please, let’s go for a walk”.
He reluctantly agreed to put his work down for a walk.
Little did he know you had a surprise planned for him.
You had been taking earlier in the semester about sex and kinks and things along those lines. And you realized that Severus had a bit of a thing for exhibitionist sex. He wouldn’t full on admit it, but even once you two almost got caught by student when he was fucking you on his desk, and you could tell the idea of getting caught spurred Severus on even more.
So, considering there were far less people in Hogwarts today, and most would be preoccupied, you decided to surprise Severus.
As you were walking through the corridors, you calculatingly pushed him against a wall next to a statue, which had a small hiding spot behind.
Severus was startled at first, but as soon as you started biting his neck and stroking his clothed growing erection, he very quickly understood.
“What are you doing? Not here…” he whispered, trying not to moan from the friction between your hand and his hardening dick.
“Please… Take me right here, Sev… I’m your Christmas present, do what you will with me. Fuck please” you quietly moaned into his ear.
Severus was now painfully hard and his eyes were quickly filled up with lust. He grabbed you and flipped you against the wall.
“You’ll have to very quiet pet, can u do that?” He growled.
“Yes, please, just fuck me” you mewled.
You had purposefully worn a short skirt, which he effortlessly rose up and just chuckled.
“My my, you little slut. Walking around with no knickers on? I bet you’re soaked…” he growled into you ears while squishing your body between the wall and his ever present hard dick.
“Please” you just mewled.
He quickly released his painfully tight cock and lined it up with your aching pussy.
“Just be sure, pet” he whispered, as he placed one hand over your mouth.
Then he slid into your slick pussy. His thrusts got hard and deep very quickly, and you tried to control your moans as best as you could, fuck were you grateful he had his hand over your mouth… he just pounded into you from the back.
“Is this what you wanted slut?” He sneered “to be fucked hopeless, in front of anyone who could walk down this hall? To be caught being ass fucked in HD?”
Your response was another moan, muffled by his hand. Your legs started to shake uncontrollably, you were so close to coming.
This was way better than you could have imagined…
“Does my little pet wasn’t to cum?” Severus taunted into your ear.
All you could do was nod, and you did so vigorously.
“Then cum, slut. Come on my cock. And I’ll fill your pretty pussy.” He groaned.
You came, trying so hard not to scream Severus’ name as he pounded into you.
And after you, Severus quickly coated your walls with his hot cum.
You both stood there for a minute, just in awe of what you had just done.
Severus chuckled as he helped you clean off, “We should do that more often”.
You smirked back “I’ll be your present anytime” you said as you kissed him and a student just gasped.
How long had they been standing there?
#harry potter smut#harry potter fanfiction#severus snapexreader#severus snape#severus snape smut#snape fandom#snape fanfiction#snape#professor snape smut#professor snape#snape x reader#snape smut#severus x reader#kinkmas
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TOP 10 DEVILINMYBRAIN FICS:
Tumblr: @thedevilinmybrain
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A Night With Royalty
18+ Minors don’t you dare!!!
Word Count: 3790
Pairing: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Original Female Character
Warnings: Explicit, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Double Penetration, Light BDSM, Drug Use, Alcohol Use, Marijuana, Swearing, Face-Sitting, Partying.
It was a typical Saturday night, getting drunk, pigging out on junk food, and cheesy horror movies on the tv. Layla was off that night from the record store and Eddie didn't have a show to play. Steve must've also been lonely and bored since he called last minute and asked to hang as well. Wasn't a big deal since Uncle Wayne was working another graveyard shift. That's what was nice about hanging out at Eddie's-no responsible parental units around meant irresponsible young adults. They could be as loud as they want, party as long as they want, and be as naughty as they want. Layla was Eddie's long time girlfriend and his age-yet she graduated 2 years ago. Had a steady job at a record store that had an underground tattoo shop in the back. She was quite the artist and back in the day used to experiment on Eddie...now that's a trusting boyfriend.
She still lived with her parents because her and Eddie were supposed to move out on their own...except he still had yet to graduate. Layla wasn't going to move in with him until he walked that stage and got that diploma because she was not going to "pack my boyfriends lunch and send him off to school like I'm his damn mother." She loved Eddie and tried to help him out with school but he wouldn't hear it....but that's Eddie...stubborn as a mule. She wanted to get him out of the trailer so his poor Uncle could have his room back. Wayne never complained since he loved having Eddie around but they all knew a real bed was better than that fold up cot.
Steve arrived around 9 already a few drinks in and knocked on the door.
"My my my is that the King himself? Babe look! Wow I have a King and a Princess in my home. I'm surrounded by fucking royalty." Eddie said with a huge shit eating grin on his face.
"Yah yah fuckwad just let me in already." Steve hated being called that but Eddie knew that and never let it down.
"Ok it's starting to get less funny...leave the guy alone...Edward." Layla responded back knowing how Eddie hated being called Edward as much as Steve hated being called King. Eddie gave Layla a death stare. "Oh no! Looks like I'm in trouble!"
"Damn right you are little girl! Now get over here and receive your punishment!"
"Hell no! I'm not that stupid!" Eddie starts chasing Layla around, screaming and hollering when Steve grabs her so Eddie can dish out the justice for her calling him Edward. He picks her up, slings her over his shoulder, and gives her 10 hard whacks on her ass.
"For fucks sake Eddie put me down!" When he does she looks over at Steve and says "And don't think I won't forget that act of betrayal Harrington...your on my shit list now!"
"Oooo! I'm so scared! The little 5 foot terrors gonna get me!" Eddie and Steve laugh as Layla rubs her sore ass trying to figure out how she's going to sit on the couch.
They turn on the VCR and play Children of the Corn. Steve's not really into horror movies so he doesn't pay much attention. He steals glances at Layla and Eddie snuggling on the couch. He notices Eddie starts to rub his hand up and down Layla's left side starting at her shoulder, down her ribs, and then landing on her thigh just below her very short jean shorts. Her skin looks so soft, his hands laid on the couch and was only inches away from touching her thigh. He thought "If I was quick and stayed still, I wonder if I could brush my fingers over her skin and maybe she would think it was Eddie's. No...come on doofus...I'm sure she can tell the difference between her boyfriends fingers that have been all over her and inside her and to that of a stranger."
Steve was trying to concentrate on the movie and not what he wanted to do to Layla and the chub that was certainly developing in his tight jeans. "Man, this movie is so creepy. Makes you not want any children at all. This would be a perfect form of birth control damn." Layla exclaimed and everyone chuckled.
"What? No kids? Your telling me you don't want an army of curly brown haired Munson's running around, Lays?"
"I love you Eddie...believe me I do...but your as much Munson as I can handle."
"Aww dang princess....I was kinda hoping to knock you up one day and you'd be mine forever!"
"Oh is that so? What you want me barefoot and pregnant wearing your band tees and blasting Ozzy on your headphones over my fat belly?"
"Actually....yah...that sounds pretty awesome."
"Hmm...I'll have to think about it. If I get knocked up it means your stuck with me Munson."
Eddie smiles and plants a big kiss on Layla's lips.
"Well if your going to be responsible parents, Eddie's going to have to give up his side business. Drug dealer Dad doesn't have a good ring to it." Steve chimed in.
"Oh like there aren't drug dealing parents, Harrington. Get off my ass about that."
" Oh he meant nothing by it Eddie, don't be so sensitive. If we have psycho kids like these brats on tv, I'm going to need weed to mellow me out!"
Eddie and Steve raised their beers and shouted "Here here!"
"Well....if gonna be pregnant in the near future....I should take advantage of those wonderful drugs my one day baby Daddy sells....I need that weed!"
"Wait hey I kinda need that to make money babe! How am I gonna support the army of Munson's?"
"Oh! I'll pay for it then! Jeez!"
"As if I want your rich girl money..."
"Fuck you! This my money from the record store. But if your so butt hurt about me paying...I can think of another way to pay." Layla curls her tongue and starts running her finger down Eddie's chest down to his stomach.
"Jesus, babe you don't need to whore yourself out for drugs ill get you a joint damn."
"Woo! Let's go Steve! Time for drugs!"
Layla grabs Steve's hand and dances with him down the hall to Eddie's room.
The three of them make themselves comfortable on Eddie's bed and begin passing around the joint. It doesn't take long for it to kick in because Eddie apparently has the good shit. Layla gets up out of bed and turns on Ozzy's Blizzard of Oz album and starts dancing to her favourite song "I Don't Know".
Layla's cropped cut off tee that fell off one shoulder kept rising up every time she put her hands in the air. It would go up high enough that the underside of her black bra was showing, not to mention it was tight since she was well endowed. As she swayed her hips, Steve couldn't help but be mesmerised by every curve.
"Wait...so your smokin' hot, cool, rich girlfriend also likes metal?"
"Hell fucking yah Harrington! My girls always had great taste...I mean come on...look at me!" Eddie laughs.
"Lays, do you actually enjoy this or you just putting on a show for your man to make him happy?"
"A show? Are you serious? I love rock n roll. I'm more into 70's bands but these artists of today developed from greatest bands of all time....Queen, Led Zeppelin, The Who, freakin' Jimi Hendrix! Ozzy and Eddie's beloved Dio originated from Black Sabbath ...a prominent band in the 70's. Not to mention Ozzy has one of the most recognisable voices in any genre and his talent is proved once he went out on his own and nothing will ever stop him."
Steve is completely shocked while Eddie starts clapping his hands and exclaims with the joint still in his mouth "My girlfriend ladies and gentlemen! The bad ass, metal chick alive!"
"Wow, I didn't realise you were so passionate about music."
"Oh I've always been. Parentals wanted me to be an exemplary young lady and had me learn cello and piano when I was young. I won't lie I rocked the shit out of some Saint-Saens."
"Who?" Both boys responded.
"Oh you uncultured cochons you need to educate yourselves and expand your minds to more than one type of music."
"Umm Steve...I think she's insulting us."
"You know what...I think your right...perhaps we should teach her a lesson that it's not nice to be rude."
Eddie and Steve looked at each other with squinted eyes and wicked smiles.
"What are two doing?" Layla looked scared and was starting to back up but then the boys quickly grabbed her and threw her on the bed and began an all out tickle war.
"Ah!! Omg stop! Stop! Holy shit! I can't take it!!" Layla squirmed around and laughed while trying to get away.
The boys eventually stopped after Layla threatened to kick them both in the balls.
"Oh come on Princess we were just having fun. You were being rude and we had to punish you." Said Eddie wiping his curls from his face.
"If you want to punish then fine but not tickling that's a hard no!"
"Well how should we punish you, baby girl?" Eddie had a look on his face that Layla has seen many times before and she knew exactly what he meant. She was sure he was about to kick Harrington out...but he kept going.
"Maybe we need to tie you up so you can't escape."
Steve wasn't sure why Eddie kept saying "we" but he brushed it up to the weed.
"Grab the cuffs over there while I hold her down, Harrington."
What the fuck? Steve thought but he just went along with it.
Giving the cuffs to Steve, Eddie latched them around Layla's wrists and above her head.
"Now Steve, what do you think the ultimate form of punishment is?"
Steve was too high and confused to think so he shrugged his shoulders.
"Well I say it's when your so fucking horny and you can't touch yourself."
Steve was very confused by this point and asked if he should leave.
"Yah but if you leave who's going to keep her hands above her head?"
Was this actually happening? Was Eddie really going to let Steve sit there and watch these two have sex? Would he be involved? Something felt odd yet thrilling at the same time.
Eddie began to lift up Layla's shirt to expose those beautiful, massive breasts that Steve had been dreaming about seeing all night. He covered her eyes with the shirt so she couldn't see. He placed soft, sweet kisses on her cheek, neck, collarbone, and down her cleavage. He started massaging her breasts before taking one out at a time. Steve's mouth opened slightly and his cock started to twitch. Eddie squeezed her nipples while Layla let out a soft moan. He then took one nipple in his mouth and began to suckle hard. Layla moaned louder as she arched her back as if begging for more. Eddie lifted up his shirt and threw it across the room. He trailed more kisses down Layla's ribs and stomach as she yelped from the slight tickle of Eddie's pouty lips and breath. He proceeded to undue her shorts button and zipper then slid them down taking her pink thong with them.
Steve couldn't look away at Layla's perfect pink pussy and his cock started to ache under his tight jeans.
"You can go ahead and take those off my man...we don't need that famous Harrington cock getting scratched to death by your zipper."
"Are you sure dude? Your both comfortable with this?"
"Do what he says Steve and just shut off your brain for a damn second."
Steve takes off his jeans quickly along with his boxer shorts. He is almost at full mast and when he grabs his cock it's quite painful.
Eddie teases Layla while swirling his tongue around her belly button then down her inner thighs.
"Omg Eddie just lick my pussy already i can't take it anymore."
"Oh is that what you want? Perhaps I shouldn't since you were so rude before to me and Steve. You can be rude all you want to me because I'm already head over heels for you...but you don't insult our guests. Now apologise to Steve."
"I'm sorry Steve...I didn't mean to be an entitled brat and-"
"Not with your words Princess...with your mouth. Open up that pretty mouth of yours wide since apparently Harrington's got a hog in his pants."
Steve didn't even question Eddie this time, he was too turned on and needed Layla's wet, warm mouth around his cock. He crawled over to the head of the bed and placed his cock in her mouth. The feeling was indescribable and Steve was concentrating as hard as he could to not instantly cum...he wanted this to last as long as possible. Steve slid his cock in and out of Layla's mouth slowly as Eddie stared at her aching, dripping cunt waiting for the perfect time to pounce.
Layla moaned loudly once Eddie placed his mouth on her pussy and licking furiously at her clit. The vibrations of her moan weren't helping Steve's situation and he was ready to burst at any second. Eddie licked his ring fingers and slowly entered them into Layla's tight cunt. With Steve's cock in her mouth, Eddie licking her clit, and finger fucking her..she was about to burst any second. Steve's thrusts got faster and deeper down Layla's throat making her gag a little.
"Oh fuck. I'm going to cum! Oh shit!"
"Make her swallow every drop Steve!"
He didn't know why but hearing Eddie say that was the ticket to his release and Steve unloaded all his cum into Layla's mouth and down her throat. He fell on his back and needed to breath from the intensity.
Eddie's fingers started to go in and out of Layla faster. She made the most sensual groans Steve had ever heard which surprisingly made him hard again. He was becoming insatiable and wanted more.
"My baby's about to come real soon Steve...you better get down here and get a taste. I guarantee it's the best tasting pussy you've ever had."
Eddie continued to finger fuck Layla as Steve went down to the end of the bed.
Eddie stopped for a second to stretch open and display Layla's perfect pink pussy.
"Now tell me that's not a work of art."
"My God man you weren't kidding."
"So have a taste already!"
Steve dove down into Layla, he opened up her needy hole and got his tongue as far as he could inside of her. It was the greatest he's ever tasted and for a second grew jealous of Eddie who could have this whenever he wanted. She tasted of honey and sunshine. She was getting so wet it was dripping down Steve's throat. Eddie began to lick her clit when she screamed "Oh my fucking fuck I'm going to come so hard. Oh god oh god keep going I'm so close!"
Then like a rushing wave, Layla's release came in such a strong force that she squirted all over Eddie and Steve's face-as well as the floor.
"Woo! Good job babe!"
She lifted up her shirt and said "Ok that's it get these damn handcuffs of me...I'm in charge now."
"Yes ma'am." Eddie said while he grabbed the key and unlocked the cuffs.
"Pants off Munson!" Didn't have to tell him twice as Eddie unbuckled so fast and his pants dropped to the floor. She had Eddie and Steve sit on the bed as she went back and forth sucking both of their cocks. After a couple minutes, Layla grabbed both of their cocks and said "Now, I want both of you to kiss."
"Wait what?!?!" Yelled the boys.
"Hey! As far as I see it...I quite literally have you both by the balls....I'd listen to me. Besides...I said I was in charge...now kiss before I decide I'd rather have you suck each other off."
Eddie and Steve both looked at each other reluctantly.
"Today ladies or I stop stroking."
Eddie places his hand on Steve's cheek and tilts his head to the right as he slowly plants a soft peck on Steve's lips. They pause and stare at each other for a second before closing their eyes and properly make out. Their tongues massaging each other over and over as mild moans escaped. Eddie than rolls on top of Steve and begins grinding his cock on Steve's leg. Layla crawls on the bed admiring the two gorgeous naked men fondling each other. A smirk develops on her face as Eddie starts kissing and sucking Steve's neck and then down his chest. Steve arches his head upwards and moans loudly from the intensity of it all. It felt so wrong...so taboo...but dammit he didn't want Eddie to stop. Eddie begins to move further down Steve's torso when he finally stops at Steve's stiff, aching shaft. He plants small kisses around it then swallows it entirely. Layla's jaw drops...she never thought she'd see her boyfriend with a dick in his mouth. It was...by far...the hottest thing she's ever seen. Her hand trails down to pussy, she slips two fingers in to find out she's insanely wet.
Eddie's head goes up as he says "Get a condom Lays, some lube, and then sit on Harringtons face."
"Im very into the face sitting idea but I don't get why we need lube. Aren't you wet enough?"
"Oh poor, sweet, clueless Steve. Just lay there and relax...it hurts more if your tense...trust me...Eddie likes coming in the back door."
Eddie laughs. "Ha. That's pretty funny Lays."
Layla crawls up the bed and straddles Steve's face.
"Mmm. I've always wanted to grab your famous quaff as I rode your face Steve."
Layla starts grinding Steve's face as he laps his tongue all over her wet pussy drinking up ever drop. Steve puts his arms under her legs and grabs on so he can push her closer to his face. Steve becomes so engaged in how good Layla's cunt is that he completely forgot the fact that he was about to be butt fucked.
Eddie squirted the lube over his cock and his fingers as he did a "practice round" in Steve's tight, puckered ass. He wasn't even sure if Steve noticed what he did. He then slowly enters Steve since he wasn't accustomed yet to Eddie's girth. Steve's eyes shot open as Layla said it was ok and to just breathe. The more and more Eddie went inside, the more intense he ate Layla. Eddie was now fully inside Steve as he pumped in and out. Steve's mind was racing trying to comprehend all that was happening. He was eating out one of the hottest girls he'd ever seen and being fucked in the ass by the only guy who ever made him question his sexuality (ok maybe not the only guy...those after game showers with Billy were...ummm...interesting.)
Steve wasn't going to last for long but he did everything in his power to not come...he didn't want this to end.
"Oh fuck! Suck on my clit Steve I'm so close!!"
Eddie was close as well and he started fucking Steve faster and faster. Seconds later, the three of them came together nearly milliseconds apart from each other like they were one person. Eddie ripped off the condom and crawled up the bed looking feral as he flipped Layla on her stomach. He buried his face in her pussy making sure to clean her up completely. He grabbed another condom and tossed it to Steve.
"It's time for you to do some fucking. You go in the back and I'll go in the front. Let's see if my girl can take two dudes at the same time." Steve sat on the bed with his back to the wall while Layla slowly entered his cock in her ass, leaning back into Steve's chest as Eddie slid his cock inside her pussy. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, "Holy fuck this feels so good. Omg it's making me dizzy. I'm getting so stretched."
Their rhythm was a perfect flow as if they'd done this a million times. Eddie sucked on Layla's nipples as she leaned her head back to kiss Steve. The pleasure was so intense that they all fell over onto the bed with Steve on his back and Layla sandwiched between him and Eddie. Steve's hands rested on Layla's hips as he bucked his own faster. Eddie's hands placed on both sides of them as he picked up the pace. His head rested on Layla's as he stared into her eyes.
"I love you so much babygirl. Your so fucking perfect I'm never letting you go."
"I love you Eddie. Come inside me, breed me...make me yours."
Their moans and "happy screams" were so loud they were sure the whole trailer park heard them but they didn't give a damn.
Steve comes inside Layla and can barely breathe. Layla's release has her practically shaking as Eddie still kept going even after he finished.
Once they could breathe again and speak coherent sentences, Steve goes to find his cigarettes, Eddie bums one and grabs a beer. "Oh! No! Don't move Princess...your man's got you some water and a wet towel." Eddie gently wipes Layla clean as he gives her tiny smooches.
"Damn if the idiots at school knew how sweet and caring their resident freak was."
"I could give a fuck what those sheep think...your the only thing that matters to me."
"Hey...it's getting late I should head off..."
"Oh hell no Harrington your not going anywhere...who's to say I won't want both my boys in the morning."
Layla kisses both of them as they crawl under the blankets.
"Now I've not only slept with a princess but also a king."
"Well if im a King and she's a princess what does that make you?"
"Shit. I don't know. I always saw myself as the court jester." Eddie laughs.
"Well I think after tonight...you are both Kings...and I'm definitely no innocent princess anymore....because now this bitch is a Queen."
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#steve harrington smut#steddie smut#steddie x reader#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#fanfiction#layla riley oc
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