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prncessrindou · 1 month

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fast n’ furious // repost from wakashawty

♱ CONTENT WARNING . . fem!reader, street racer!wakasa, unprotected sex, jealousy, waka scares reader w his driving, car sex, marijuana use, creampie and use of pet names.

♱ WORD COUNT . . 2.5k

“You did the damn thing tonight, Waka.” A woman said as she grinned in Wakasa’s face.

The track was the place to be on Friday nights. It’s where every racer got to show off their rides and skills behind the wheel. The money was something to look forward to, but Wakasa didn’t thrive off that. What get his adrenaline pumping is knowing the dangers and consequences behind it.

“Hm, you think so?” Wakasa asked the grinning woman.

As usual, Wakasa stolen another victory with his superior driving skills, winning the money fair and square. The other challenger was mean muggin him from afar, though Wakasa was unaware of this or just didn’t give a shit.

“Is it just me or is he mean muggin you?” The woman asked. Wakasa shrugged, “he’ll be alright.” He responded nonchalantly as he leaned back against his car.

You suddenly and purposefully stormed out by Wakasa and the women. You knew that Wakasa was popular with the women before getting into a relationship with him, though you thought it would’ve stopped when you guys finally came out, but all it did was get one hundred times worse.

Wakasa grabbed your arm, pulling you into his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist and biting your earlobe softly. The other girls watched in disbelief and walked away. Finally, he thought.

“Home.” You muttered. “Oh? Well, how are you going to get there, hm?” He asked with a teasing grin on his face.

“I’m walking!” You pushed away from his chest and looked around, “where did your little girlfriend run off to? You should go after her!” You spat.

Wakasa chuckled, “she’s right in front of me.” He said, “seeing you get all jealous is so sexy, princess.” He grabs your waist and pulls you into his chest once more, “especially in this skirt.” He begins tugging on it, “you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

You rolled your eyes, “I ain’t jealous.” You wouldn’t consider yourself as a person with low self esteem, but you never thought someone like Wakasa Imaushi would be interested in you. When he first asked you out, you turned him down. Simply because you thought he was out of your league and Wakasa never had a woman to turn him down. Ever… He knew then and there that you were the one and he had to have you.

“But, you are totally jealous.” He responded, “and I think it’s hot.” He whispered into your ear, gripping on the plush of your ass. You hit his chest and he chuckled, “we’re in public, you perv!” You squealed.

“And? I’m just grabbing what’s mine.” Wakasa said as he placed a kiss on your nose.

You couldn’t help, but smile. Wakasa was good at making you smile, no matter the situation.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his soft lips. “Hm, I think I deserve more than just one kiss, baby.” Wakasa grinned. You hummed, “you did win tonight so I guess you do deserve an reward.” You said, kissing his soft lips.

Suddenly a group of girls came out of nowhere, “Hey, Wakaaa!” They shouted loudly. “Are you coming to the kickback?” One girl out the group asked.

“When is it starting?” Wakasa asked, letting go of your waist and turning his attention to the girls.

“It’s going on now.” A girl responded, “we’re heading there now, you should come and… bring your lady friend.” The girl teased.

Oh, this fucking bitch.

“Sounds like it’ll be fun.. wanna swing by, baby?” Wakasa turns his attention towards you. You now have your arms folded, making your breast sit up high and his dick twitches upon seeing it.

He wants to put his face in them in front of these girls.

“Swing by your fucking self!” You walked off, bumping into him with as much force as you could and walking to the passenger side of his car, getting in and slamming the door as hard as you could.

The girls were speechless after seeing your behavior and honestly, you, yourself weren’t too happy with how you handled it. You wish you didn’t get so worked up because that’s what they want you to do so they can get a good laugh about how they got under your skin.

Wakasa waved his arms up in the air, “what gives, baby?” He mouthed. You flipped him off and he sighed deeply. Suddenly, he got in the car and started it; he pulled off on the girls, leaving them where they stood. The car ride was silent, you were looking out through the window as Wakasa drove down the dark highway. “Ya’ hungry?” He finally broke the silence.

You didn’t respond, you remained looking out the window. Wakasa leaned over and opened the glove department, taking out a already rolled up blunt. “So yer’ not gonna talk to me? Gonna give me the silent treatment?” He spoken up, putting the blunt to his mouth and lighting it up, inhaling it.

You remained silent, just shifting in your seat. Waka sighed, exhaling the smoke. He pressed his foot down on the gas, pushing eighty miles.

You noticed the car speed difference. You glanced over and saw that Wakasa was pushing eighty, but you still refused to say anything to him. You wasn’t about to give in and say anything to him about the speed, thinking he’d just slow down eventually, but that wasn’t the case at all.

The engine was roaring as Wakasa pushed the gas, one hand on the steering wheel while the other hand held onto the blunt, putting it up to his mouth here and there. Now he was pushing ninety, and you were getting a little nervous.

Wakasa didn’t say a word, eyes fixated on the road as the cars speed was getting higher. “Hey, Waka.. slow down a bit.” You finally spoke, looking at Wakasa.

He didn’t respond nor acknowledge you, he kept his eyes strictly on the road. Your heart was beating out of your chest as the speed reached ninety, getting closer and closer to one-hundred. “Damnit, Wakasa! Slow the fuck down now!” You screamed.

Wakasa abruptly pressed down on the breaks, the car screeching to a stop. Your hands went to the dashboard, breathing heavily as the car finally came to a stop. “The fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled, voice wobbly from being scared half to death.

Wakasa starts to laugh, “my bad, baby.” He said, “jus’ wanted you to say some’ to me.”

“And you thought pulling some shit like that would do the trick? You’re really a jackass, Waka!” You spat, you were on the verge of tears because you really got frighten.

Don’t cry in front of him, don’t be a pussy!

Wakasa peeped your voice change, “hey, look at me..” he grabbed your attention by grabbing your chin, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya’.” He said, “don’t cry.. you’re too pretty for that.” His thumb wiping away your tears.

“Whatever,” you sniffed, “just take me home, please.”

Wakasa doesn’t say anything else and just nods. He presses his foot on the gas gently and drives away. But, instead of taking you home like you wished, he takes you to a secluded spot. A spot you and him usually go to after his races.

“What are we doing here?” You questioned.

He backed the car in, placed it in park and turned off the engine. He adjusted his seat and leaned back in it, “you still mad at me?” He asked, his voice was low and deep.

“What do you think?” You questioned, with a bit of bite in your tone.

“C’mere.” Wakasa said. You gave it some thought and gave in, climbing over and sat in front of him on his lap.

His tatted hands were rubbing your exposed plush thighs. The way you were sitting, you could feel his cock underneath you. “Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t mean to scare you. Can you forgive me?” He asked, half lidded eyes staring at you.

You rolled your eyes and you shrugged. Wakasa chuckled lowly. “What’s funny?” You asked.

“Nothin’.. you’re just sexy as hell when you’re mad.” He replied, “and y’know what else?”

“I dunno.. what?”

He licked his lips, “I also get mad and jealous too.. like earlier before the race started, I saw you talking to a few dudes… and I saw how they were checking you out.” He squeezed your thighs, “it pissed me off.. I wanted to bend you over in front of those fuckers to let them know who you belong to.” Wakasa said.

“Why didn’t you if it pissed you off that much?” You questioned, using your finger to trace over his exposed tatted chest.

Wakasa chuckled, “You really would’ve let me fuck you in front of everybody?”

“Dunno, maybe.” You shrugged.

Wakasa lazily smiled, “don’t play with me, miss we’re in public.”

“Oh, shut up!” You chuckled. Wakasa chuckled lowly, continuing to rub your thighs. “But,” he begins to speak, “all jokes aside, I really am sorry.” He says.

You sigh deeply, “I guess I can forgive you.. you’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you.” Wakasa grins. You lean down to place a kiss on his lips, not realizing what you were actually doing in the process.

“Mm, do that again.” Wakasa says lowly. Wakasa groaned as you leaned over again, but stops you midway and grabs your hips, moving you back and forth as you sat on his lap, grinding on his clothed cock.

You felt his cock harden as you grind on his lap, Waka groaned once more at the friction you were causing, “fuck.. if you keep that up, you might start something you can’t finish.” he says, squeezing your thighs with his hands.

“Who says I can’t finish it?” you questioned, smashing your lip against his for a passionate kiss, you could taste a bit of mint from the gum Wakasa had earlier. You pulled away from his lips, “I always finish what I start.”

Wakasa grinned and licked his lips, your confidence amusing to him, “then show me.” He said, “show daddy how you finish shit.”

“With pleasure.” You said, unzipping Wakasa pants and his hard cock sprung up from his jeans, the tip oozing out pre cum. You raised your hips up, lifting your skirt up as Wakasa helped pulled your panties to the side. “A thong, huh? Fuck..” he said, biting his lips at the sight of your bare cunt.

He rubbed his tip against your folds, gathering your slick. You moaned at the friction and allowed him to slip inside of your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, fuckkk—” you moaned, your walls burning at how his cock was stretching you out.

You didn’t move your hips at all, it was almost as if you were cockwarming him. “Wakaaa, you’re so— shit!” You sobbed, laying your head in the crook of his neck. The smell of his cologne hitting your nostrils; you placed wet kisses on his neck.

“Mm, is my pretty girl gonna ride me?” His hands on the globe of your ass, squeezing your plushy skin. You nodded your head profusely, rocking your hips back and forth on his dick. He was huge to say the less, his dick dragging against your walls with every movement you made.

Wakasa watched as you bounced on his length, feeling the buzz from the weed he smoked earlier. He’s digging his nails into your skin, trying so desperately to control himself from slamming you down on his dick and fucking you dumb. Your pussy is clenching and spasming around him, he’s getting dizzy from it.

“Fuck, princess.. yer’ pussy squeezing the shit outta me!” Wakasa murmured, throwing his head back against the seat as you rocked him. He looks so pretty like this, surrounded in bliss as pleasure took over him.

You lifted your hips up, his length shining with your slick and his tip remained the only thing in your wet folds as you began moving your hips in a different way.. a way that would drive him crazy.

W— A— K—, your hips spelled out the first three letters of his name and then the forth, A—.

“Fuckkkk—,” Wakasa realized what you were doing, “that’s so sexy, shit baby..” biting his bottom lip and letting you continue doing what you were doing. S— A—.. by the time you finished the last word, he slammed your hips down; his fat tip practically tasting your spongy core and his length pulsating against your warm walls. “Ohhh- my! Fuck, Wakaaa!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifted your ass up and down his dick.

His fingers were digging into your skin, enough to leave marks on your skin for the next day. You felt yourself coming undone as he repeatedly pounded your core. “Shit, m’ cummin! M’ cumminnnn!” You sobbed, Wakasa then guided your hips to go back and forth, practically grinding your clit against him.

“Heh,” he chuckled, “make a mess then, baby.” He said as he smacked your ass.

That was all he needed to say for you to snap. You sobbed Wakasa’s name like it was a sacred prayer as your high came washing over you like it was a tidal wave.

You knew Waka was close from how his dick was twitching inside of you. He continued rocking your hips back and forth while squeezing his eyes shut, groaning in your ear as pleasure took over him, spraying your walls with his warm cum. “Mmh, fuckkk,” he growled, gripping and slapping your ass as he came down from his high.

You both were out of breath, completely spent. Wakasa chuckles, throwing his head back against the seat, “so when were you gonna tell me you could do that freaky shit?” He asked, his large hands rubbing your ass.

You giggled, snuggling your face into his chest, “it was the spur of the moment type thing.. I was just trying something.”

“Hm,” Wakasa hums, “spur of the moment, huh? Well, it was hot as fuck.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it so much.” You leaned up, placing a kiss on his soft lips. You felt Wakasa’s dick harden back up as it remained inside of you. You broke away from the kiss, “tell me you’re not serious..!?” you said, Wakasa was grinning from ear to ear, “well, what can I say? You still owe me my reward for winning tonight.”

You arched your brow, “what are you talking about?” You questioned, “we literally just fucked.”

“Yeahhh, I know we did,” Waka said, “but, you was just proving to me you can finish what you start… proving yourself and giving a reward are two different things, princess.”

You rolled your eyes and you couldn’t help, but smile. “What am I going to do with you, Wakasa Imaushi?”

Wakasa laughed, his laugh was warm and his smile had butterflies swarming around in your stomach. “I don’t know, baby.” He said, suddenly smashing his lips against yours. He began moving your hips again, squelching sounds filled the car as he did so. The friction causing you to squeal in his mouth.

He broke away from the kiss, grinning from how you reacted to him moving your hips, “but, I know what I’m going to do with you though.” He smiles before sealing your lips with a kiss.

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munson-blurbs · 9 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Summary: A disastrous PTA meeting and an unfortunate grocery store encounter have you and Eddie questioning whether or not you deserve each other.

Warnings: a bit of dirty talk (18+ just in case), feelings of unworthiness, Carol Perkins and Billy Hargrove make appearances, mentions of bullying, small allusion to drug use and poverty, arrest, tiny allusion to Eddie's breeding kink

WC: 7.1k

Chapter 13/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special thanks to @girlwiththerubyslippers & @corroded-hellfire for helping with this chapter!

Your Thursday mornings at Hawkins Preschool usually involve a light tap on the door and a blink-and-you-missed-it wave from Eddie; maybe a wink if no one’s looking. Today, he’s stopped by the classroom with a steaming styrofoam cup in hand.

“I thought you only brought me coffee on Mondays,” you laugh appreciatively. You take the still-hot beverage from him, folding back the plastic tab and blowing on it lightly before taking a sip. It’s made just as you like it and warms you from the inside out.

Eddie smiles, crossing his arms over his chest an leaning in closer so his leather-clad shoulder grazes sweater-covered one. “Ah, but the PTA meeting is after school today.” As if you could forget forty minutes of unpaid work that could be spent reading, resting, snuggling up to your thoughtful metalhead boyfriend… “Figured you could use an extra boost of caffeine to help you power through.” He lowers his voice to add, “I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it. But Wayne’ll be there.” He squeezes your hand quickly just as Abby Carver approaches you.

You pull away so fast that you bang your elbow against the side of the desk, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a yelp. “What can I do for ya, Abby?” you ask, smiling through the throbbing pain.

“Joshua said that he’s taller than me!” she whines, messily swiping at her ruddy tear-stained cheeks. Her dad only dropped her off five minutes ago, and she’s already conjured up a crisis. Unsurprising, but exasperating nonetheless.

You peer over at Joshua Harrington, who is currently constructing a racetrack, unbothered by Abby’s distressed state. Your gaze flits back over to the little girl in front of you. “Honey, he is taller than you,” you gently explain, watching as her bright blue eyes begin to well up again.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t havta say it!” she protests, stamping her sneaker on the speckled tile floor. It’s one that lights up, little red and blue and green twinkles dashing along the side.

You nod, sucking in your lips in a feeble attempt to keep a straight face. “Well, you can just play somewhere else. And we’re gonna get started with circle time in a few minutes.” Time to sing the Good Morning song–again. If the kids didn’t beg for it every day, you would’ve scrapped it months ago, but it keeps them entertained.

Once she scampers off, already zeroing in on a group of girls dressing up some time-battered Barbie dolls, you turn your attention back to Eddie.

“We’re still on for Saturday?” you ask, a subtle reminder of your upcoming date at Enzo’s. It’s a fancier restaurant than either of you are used to, but Eddie had insisted on it.

He nods quickly, scratching at the back of his neck like he does when he’s nervous, though you’re not quite sure what’s on his mind. “Y-Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“I can’t wait.”

At 3:15, you and Will trudge into the classroom that’s serving as the meeting venue. It only takes a moment for you to remember that it’s Ms. Marion’s room, and your eyes scan the walls for Harris’s artwork. You find it easily; it’s the best in the class. It’s a drawing based on the saying, ‘March is in like a lion and out like a lamb,’ and each kid drew a picture of the two animals. Harris has meticulously added details to his. He’s drawn a zig-zag line under the lion’s pink nose to represent his aggression and given the lamb a puffy coat of wool, while the other kids just drew smiling lions and a circle to represent their lambs’ bodies. He’s also included a speech bubble hovering above each of their heads; the lion’s says “ROR!!!” and the lamb bleats “BAAA.”

Will’s gaze follows yours, and his lips turn up into a smile when he sees what you’re staring at. “He’s a talented kid,” he remarks. “We gotta have him sign something now so we can say ‘we knew him when.’”

You nod your head in agreement and return his grin. You’ll have to tell Eddie to have Harris swing by your classroom after school tomorrow so Harris can autograph some drawings.

Wayne comes in a few minutes later, taking a seat behind you and Will.

“How’s your day going, Wayne?” You turn around in your chair and greet him. Seeing the older Munson always lifts your spirits. He’s wearing a flannel, checks of olive green and white, over a white t-shirt that proudly proclaims: My Favorite Person Calls Me Grampa.

Wayne gives a little shrug; for him, it’s the equivalent of a beaming smile. “Can’t complain. Didn’t get too much pushback from Harris when I dropped him at the baby-sitter’s.” He explains that Claudia Henderson still has a bunch of the games her son had played with, and Harris loves going through the toy bin and finding something new. “Well, new to him. That stuff’s gotta be nearly twenty years old by now.” He scratches the white-gray whiskers on his cheek and chuckles. “Jeez, ‘m old. I remember buyin’ those kinda games for Eddie when he was a kid.”

More parents and teachers file in and, eventually, the PTA president stands at the front of the classroom and calls the meeting to order. The idle conversation gradually ceases, and Linda Wright presses her lips into a thin smile and smooths nonexistent creases in her khaki slacks.

“Welcome, everyone,” she begins, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Thank you all for being here. We have quite a few items to cover today, so let’s get to it!” She’s far too chipper for your liking, and you wince involuntarily as she excitedly announces the upcoming parent-child talent show. It’s an annual school-hosted fundraiser, and apparently a popular one; there’s a soft roar of discussion before Linda wrinkles her nose in irritation and shushes the group.

“Oh, Ed’s gonna love that,” Wayne leans in and whispers to you. “He’ll probably be more excited than Harris.” He sits up straight when Linda clears her throat and glares in his direction.

The president launches into a tirade about kindergarten readiness strategies, handing out little pamphlets to the parents and guardians. The cover displays an overly-enthusiastic teacher surrounded by a small group of students who are closely attending to a fake lesson.

You hear Wayne grumble under his breath: “What is there to be ready for? It’s kindergarten, Jesus Christ.” and you have to stifle a laugh.

Linda luckily doesn’t hear his lament. “I’m opening up the floor to any questions or concerns.” Now is the time that people typically start gathering their belongings and resume unfinished conversations. It’s precisely what you plan to do until you hear an all-too familiar snide voice from across the room.

“Yes, I have a question.” Carol Perkins stands up. She places her hands on her hips and pulls her lips into a smirk. “What is the school’s policy on parent-teacher relationships? Romantic and…otherwise?” Her gaze sweeps over to you, hovering there for a bit, and you realize with a sense of dread that she’s enjoying this. “Because, to me,” she splays her manicured fingers over the center of her chest, “it just seems completely unprofessional.”

The PTA members start whispering amongst themselves, eyebrows raised in excitement as they try to determine the culprit amongst themselves.

You want to crawl into a hole and die. You can feel Wayne’s eyes on the back of your head, as though he’s silently willing you to remain composed. The only other person who knows of your relationship with Eddie is Will, and you can tell that he’s doing everything in his power not to wrap his arms around you in a hug.

At the very least, the principal is not tolerating the dissolution of the meeting into a gossip session. “Ms. Perkins, we can discuss this at a later time. Privately.” Sue Sinclair’s expression is stoic, unreadable, and you’re not sure whether she’s angry at you or Carol. How would she know it’s me? But logic has no reason with emotion taking center stage, and you’re all too grateful when Chrissy Carver shifts the conversation to organize a ticket sale committee. For the most part, it seems like Carol’s little outburst has been swept under the rug. The meeting concludes as some parents leave while others stick around to schedule playdates, but you remain seated.

A hand on your shoulder startles you from your humiliated stupor, and you look up to see Will looking at you. Sympathy radiates from his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he softly reassures you. “I don’t think anyone knows, and even if they do, who cares? Harris isn’t in your class anymore.”

“I-I know.” But Frankie is, which means I’ll have to face Carol every day, I’ll have to deal with her smarmy expressions and backhanded comments. The blood drains in your face when you think about her spreading rumors to the other parents, their amused stares as they drop their children off to be in your care.

Wayne speaks up as he stands, leaning his gnarled knuckles on the seat of the folding chair for support. “Darlin’, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about. It’s no one’s business who you’re with.” He brushes some dust off of his dungarees and walks with a slight limp towards the door, the remnants of an old injury that flares up in the colder weather. “I gotta go get Harris, but you keep your chin up.” He gives Will a quick head bob that the younger man returns, having developed somewhat of a camaraderie with the elder Munson during the various post-graduation Hellfire sessions held at the trailer.

Carol says nothing as she leaves the room, deep in conversation with Steve Harrington and his wife. If they don’t know about you and Eddie yet, you’re confident that Carol will ensure they do soon. Dread pools in your stomach at the thought of small-town gossip flying, your professionalism being called into question, the possibility of you losing your job. And everyone will know why.

Eddie’s hands tremor with excitement; his whole body buzzes with energy as he grabs the receiver off of the glass countertop. He dials your number–his favorite seven digit combination in the world–and beams the entire time. As soon as he hears your, “hello?”, he’s practically shouting into the phone. Volume control has never been his forte, especially after years of blowing out his eardrums with loud music.

“Babe, guess what?” He drums his left hand fingertips on the counter, a rhythmic pum-pum-pum to keep his breath steady.

“What’s up?”

He notes hesitance in your tone, but chalks it up to exhaustion from your extended workday. “I applied for that manager position? The one I told you about on our first date?” He hears your soft “mhm,” before proceeding. “And I got it! Ash just told me now!” He smiles, pressing the receiver to his ear with his shoulder as he organizes paperwork into a pile. “Eddie Munson, getting the girl and the job? Never in Hawkins’ wildest dreams!”

There’s a pause on your end of the line before you reply. “I’m so proud of you, Eds. No one deserves this more than you do.”

Though there’s still an air of something Eddie can’t quite identify, it’s woven with genuine pride for his accomplishment. His fingertips keep busy as they graze up and down the phone cord. “Now we, uh, really have something to celebrate at Enzo’s.”

Another pause; this one is so long that he wonders if the line disconnected. “Um, about that…” you finally speak up, and Eddie hopes you don’t hear the gigantic sigh of relief that escapes his lips, “maybe we could just do something at my place? Grab takeout, watch a movie or something?”

His relief evaporates almost as quickly as it came, and he puts his weight on his forearms and lowers his voice. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just been a long week.”

It sounds too automatic, too rehearsed to be true. Eddie doesn’t believe you, but he needs to get to Wayne’s and pick up Harris before his uncle leaves for work. “I really wanted to take you out, show you off, y’know?” He clears his throat, scrambling for words. “We can talk more about it later. Try to get some rest, Sweetheart.”

“Mmkay,” you mumble, and Eddie hopes he’s not just imagining the smile in your voice. “I’ll try. Say hi to Harris and Wayne for me.”

He ends the phone call promising that he will, hanging up hesitantly. What happened between this morning and this evening that had you backing out of the date and retreating into your home?

I shouldn’t have tried to hold her hand, he grimaces, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road towards Forest Hills. That was so stupid; she was at work, and the kids were right there. Way to go, Munson.

Eddie continues to brood about his faux pas all the way until he gets to Wayne’s, slapping a smile on his face as he relays the news about his promotion. The smile becomes less forced the more he talks. He’s suddenly consumed with thoughts of buying a house with a yard, a pool–well, maybe not a pool; he’s not making that much money–but definitely space for Harris to run around and play.

And in this fantasy world he’s created, you’re standing on the front porch, sipping coffee out of a World’s Best Mom mug–possibly the only mug Wayne doesn’t already have nailed to the trailer wall–made just the way you like it. You’re laughing as you watch Harris sprint back and forth across the grass. Eddie imagines it neatly cut, but the reality is that it would probably be more than a bit overgrown.

He’d sneak up behind you, snaking arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses onto the back of your neck–

“That’s amazing, Ed!” Wayne claps a hand on his nephew’s back, drawing him out of his daydream and thrusting him back into reality. He pulls him into a quick hug, not overabundant in affection, but his delight seeps through. “You talk to your girl yet?”

“First person I called.” My girl. The first person I called was my girl. She’s my girl and I’m her man–

“Good.” Wayne responds pensively, smoothing down his unruly mustache whiskers and reaching for his pack of Camels. He shoves them into his side pocket, right on top of the lighter. “She could use some good news after that shitshow of a PTA meeting.”

Eddie’s brows crinkle, pinched together in non-understanding. “What are you talking about?” he asks before calling out his son’s name to bring him from the bedroom. He can hear the bed springs creaking, which can only mean that Harris is jumping on the old mattress. Apparently, breaking his wrist didn’t result in a lesson learned.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” He slams his palm onto the countertop as confusion melts into frustration. Weren’t you past this? Past keeping secrets and masking emotions?

Wayne sighs, weighing his options. Ultimately, his allegiance is to his nephew, so he divulges what happened that afternoon, heart sinking as Eddie’s face falls with each word. “She seemed real shook up,” he concludes the story, digging out the pack of cigarettes. Delivering news that devastates his nephew has him urgently craving a smoke. “I wanted to stay and talk to her, but Claudia had somewhere to be at five.”

Eddie chews on his lower lip, pulling off a bit of dry skin with his front teeth. “Yeah, no, ‘s fine.” He calls Harris out of the bedroom again, patience sufficiently thinned. Of course Carol Perkins would shoot off her big mouth about your personal life. It’s not like she had anything better to do. None of that is surprising.

What worries Eddie is why you didn’t tell him about it. Were you embarrassed that people knew you were together? Is that why you didn’t want to be seen at Enzo’s with him? Would you agree to a restaurant far outside the bounds of Hawkins, or was this shame rooted deeper than small-town gossip?

Wayne can sense his anxiety, and he scrambles to dam up Eddie’s flooding thoughts as he fumbles to put the cigarette between his lips. “It’s pretty damn obvious that you two care for each other. Dare I say, you lo—”

“Wayne!”

“Fine, fine,” Wayne chuckles and grabs his lunch pack. The ceasing of the bed springs indicates that Harris has stopped jumping, and Eddie can hear toy cars clattering into a bag. “But you should just talk to her. Make sure she’s okay.” He lowers his voice as Harris finally emerges. “I know it ain’t been easy to hear rumors your whole life, but this is new to her. Cut her a little slack.”

Eddie looks around the trailer at what was his first real home. He’d bounced from place to place with his parents, dodging angry landlords and their threats of eviction. From a young age, he’d learned to dread the end of the month, knowing that conflict was inevitable. Screaming voices, accusations of hiding money, when anyone with working eyes could see that they’d all but stuffed it in a pipe and smoked it. There was no love; only survival. Wayne was never the cookies and milk, family dinner, Leave it to Beaver type, but he offered Eddie something he’d never had before: safety.

Now, Eddie scoops Harris into his arms and follows Wayne out of the trailer as he locks up. There’s not too much of great value; possibly just the TV, but even that’s on the fritz. And unless a thief had a hankering for hokey mugs and baseball caps, they’d probably leave without taking a thing. “Thanks, Old Man.”

“‘S what I’m here for,” Wayne says, pressing a kiss to Harris’s mop of curls. He pauses, and then does something he hasn’t done in years: he kisses the top of Eddie’s head, too. “Not just a pretty face, y’know.”

On Saturday evening, Eddie finds himself at Bradley’s Big Buy, scouring the aisles until he locates the small refrigerator holding various flower bouquets. The chill hits him in the chest as he opens the door, crouching down to get a better look at the offerings through their tissue-paper wraps. He’s determined to take you to Enzo’s, and he’d hoping this small gesture will show you that he can be the man you deserve.

He finds a bouquet of pink peonies and grabs them from the display case, clutching them proudly. They’re delicate and beautiful, just like you. He raises them up, the petals tickling his nose when he inhales the fresh scent, when he overhears Billy Hargrove speaking in a hushed tone:

“Thought you were stopping by after that parent meeting thing.”

“My idiot husband came home early,” a woman–Carol Perkins, Eddie realizes–punctuates her lament with an irritated sigh. “But speaking of that meeting–I’ve been meaning to tell you: guess who’s also hooking up?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer before divulging the gossip, “Frankie’s teacher and Eddie Munson.”

“The teacher and the Freak? No way.” He sticks his tongue in his cheek and chuckles maliciously. “Didn’t know she was down for that kind of stuff.”

“Keep it in your pants,” Carol huffs, as though she’s not stepping out on her own husband. “But I’m serious! He brings her coffee and leaves her stupid love notes.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes together as he cringes. Billy’s second round of mean laughter transports him back to the time the jock grabbed his brand-new D20 off of the lunch table and used his basketball skills to chuck it into a far-off trash can. The ruby red die sunk into the mountain of discarded lumps resembling mashed potatoes and half-eaten meatloaf, forcing Eddie to trek across the cafeteria and fish it out of the pile of old food. “Love notes? What, is he in high school or something?”

Carol snickers. “Guess he’s making up for all the times he didn’t bother, since he knew no girl in this town would go for him.”

“Looks like he had to go for an import,” Billy jokes, drawing a hideous cackle from his friend. Eddie can practically hear the man’s ego inflating at the way Carol fawns over him.

“And a desperate one at that,” she snorts. “I mean, can you imagine lowering your standards enough to be with Eddie Munson?”

“Let’s hope she comes to her senses eventually,” he agrees. “So, is your husband home now…?”

All Eddie can think is to run, to get the hell out of there before anyone spots him and notices the pink tinging his cheeks and the tears welling in his eyes. He’s so focused on leaving and getting past the two bullies that he forgets about the flowers in his hand, until an infuriated voice calls after him.

“Hey! Get back here!” The manager rolls his eyes when he recognizes the culprit. “Eddie Munson. Of course. I should’ve known that shoplifting isn't too juvenile a crime for you.”

Eddie can hear Billy and Carol poorly stifling their amusement at his misfortune. He struggles to find the proper words to explain himself as his entire body is engulfed in the flames of embarrassment, burning him from the inside out. “No…I didn’t mean…it was an accident…”

The manager shakes his head with a biting laugh. He’s a graying man who should have been retired fifteen years ago when Eddie was actually shoplifting. The liver-spotted creases around his eyes are particularly visible when he sneers, “Heard that one before. Prob’ly from you.”

Anger burns in Eddie’s throat, but he swallows it. “Look, let me just pay for these, and I’ll get outta here.” He starts to fumble for his wallet, but the old man shakes his head.

“Nice try. I let you off easy too many times when you were a kid, and look where it got ya.” His cold hand clasps Eddie’s bicep as tightly as his feebleness allows. “I’m calling the sheriff. He can decide what to do with you.”

“Shit-shit-shit,” Eddie mumbles, yanking himself from the man’s grip. “Y’don’t have to hold me; I’m not gonna run away.”

To his surprise, the manager lets him go, though it’s likely due to his advanced age rather than trusting Eddie to do the right thing.

He’s taken to the back room, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor and biting his thumbnail. A quick glance at his watch tells him that he’s supposed to pick you up in 15 minutes. He breathes out a long sigh, scanning the bulletin board hastily fastened to the wall with a lone flyer advertising medical benefit sign-up. Upon closer inspection, he reads that it’s for the 1990 fiscal year, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s the last time the stodgy old Bradley ever offered insurance to his overworked, underpaid employees.

He says a silent prayer to whatever gods are listening that Hopper is the one who answers the call. The chief will give him the benefit of the doubt and probably tear the old fart a new one for wasting his time.

Purse, keys, lipstick, condoms.

You have everything you need for your date, save for one minor detail–Eddie.

You’d expected him to stop by your classroom yesterday to say good morning like he normally does, but he didn’t show. He would’ve called you if Harris was staying home sick; a brief peek out your window during recess confirmed that the littlest Munson was present. He ran around the playground with one of his friends from the birthday party, blissfully unaware of the turmoil churning within you.

Eddie definitely heard what happened at the meeting, you realize miserably, and he doesn’t want to deal with the backlash he’ll get from dating his kid’s former teacher. From anxiety blooms visions of the convoluted game of telephone perpetuated by Carol, the story getting more absurd with each retelling.

At 7:30, Eddie still hasn’t shown. He’s not exactly Mr. Punctuality, but thirty minutes is pushing it, even for him. His tardiness does nothing to ameliorate your fears. This was clearly too much for him—you were too much for him.

You’re about to wipe the makeup off of your face and change into your coziest pair of pajamas when the phone rings, startling you slightly.

“H-Hello?”

“This is a collect call from the Hawkins County Jail. Do you accept the charges?” an automated voice bleats, too chipper for the circumstances it’s reporting.

You’re caught off-guard by the question and the tone, and you choke out a strangled, “yes” and the line rings twice.

“Sweetheart? You there?” Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Relief floods your body until you remember where he’s calling from.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here,” you say, and it’s only when your fingers start to cramp that you recognize how tightly you’re gripping the receiver. “Why are you in–”

He sighs into the phone, and static briefly clouds his voice. “Long story,” he mumbles. “Can you just come and get me? There’s, uh, no bail or anything.”

“I’ll be right there.” You waste no time in grabbing your keys off of their hook, nearly forgetting to shove your feet into shoes in your scramble out the door. You’re ashamed to admit that for a millisecond, you consider the possibility that he’s been busted for dealing, but you shake it off lest it further infiltrate your psyche.

You pull up to the jail exactly twenty-eight minutes later, the fastest you can get there without flying down side streets; the irony of being pulled over for speeding on your way to the police station was not lost on you. Flinging the car into park and killing the engine, you fast-walk through the entrance and hope your nervousness is hidden by the air of confidence you’re faking.

“I’m here to pick up Eddie—er, Edward Munson?” His legal name is clunky on your tongue, like it doesn’t quite belong to him.

The officer behind the desk wears a name badge that reads “P. Callahan.” He puts down his copy of the Hawkins Post and presses his lips into a thin line as he reaches for the walkie attached to his shirt pocket.

“Hop, is Munson ready to be released?” Released. Like a wild animal who needs to be kept away from the general public for their own safety.

The officer on the other end—Chief Hopper, you presume—confirms that Eddie is good to go, and a door opens shortly after that. Eddie trudges out, shame and frustration marring his beautiful face.

You sign whatever paperwork is required before silently taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to the car. He holds it tight, a shiver of a tremor rocking through it.

“Babe, what happened?” you ask once you’re safely outside, away from where the officers can hear you.

Eddie lets go of your hand to throw his arm around you dramatically, leaning with his whole body weight. The sudden force of it has you stumbling, but he catches your fall.

“It’s awful being on the inside,” he whines, trying to lay on an exaggerated pout, but his smile pokes through. “You’ve made me too soft for prison, baby. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you and almost got shanked.”

His joke subtly informs you that he’s not ready to actually discuss it yet, and so you roll your eyes and play along for now. “Poor thing. Locked up for a whole forty minutes.”

“It was more like forty-five,” he protests, “and every second counts when it’s spent missing my girl.”

“You’re so full of it, Munson.” My girl. If he never calls you anything else but his girl for the rest of your lives, you wouldn’t complain.

He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in so your back is pressed against his chest. “Full of longing and devotion!”

“Sshh!” you chastise him lightly through your giggling. “Get in the car, crazy man.”

“Crazy ‘bout you!” Eddie says, booping your nose. As soon as your fingers wrap around the gearshift, he’s resting his hand atop yours. It trembles slightly.

Tell me what happened. Don’t keep any more secrets from me. I won’t judge you or leave you. I’m your girl, remember?

It takes a few blocks before you finally work up the courage to ask, “Is everything okay?” It’s a stupid question; you don’t get arrested if everything’s okay, but the alternative is a more straightforward, Why the hell did I have to pick you up from jail?, so you acquiesce.

“‘M good.” He gives your hand another tiny squeeze and attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

You sigh, poorly hiding your impatience for answers you need to know. “Can we talk about what happened?”

His slow release of breath is in sync with your foot pressing on the brake pedal as you approach a stop sign. “Not a big deal. Just a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding that led to you getting arrested?” Stop hiding. Stop pretending. Stop acting like this is fine when it clearly isn’t. Stop making me feel like you don’t trust me. The words get caught behind clenched teeth, threatening to ooze through the gaps.

“Yup.” He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes as though giving a sufficient response to end the conversation.

You drive another few minutes before you spot the sign for Lovers Lake in the distance. There’s only one surefire way to calm his nerves; whatever it is he’s keeping from you, there’s a reason he hasn’t worked up the courage to say it.

Eddie sits up and peers out the window in confusion when you veer to the exit. “Where are we—”

“You’ll see.”

Parking in a spot secluded by trees and the dark of night, you turn to him and stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Can I make my man feel good?” you coo, taking his earlobe between your teeth and tugging lightly. You can feel the small bump where his piercings used to be.

“Shit, baby,” he breathily groans, adjusting the seat so you have ample space to straddle his lap. His hands fly to his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling the leather strip from its loops. Though his pants aren’t as tight around him now, you can still see the outline of his now half-hard cock beginning to press against his fly. “‘S exactly what I need.”

But it isn’t solely the act of sex that he needs, although it would be a farce to imply that he didn’t crave the feeling of you wrapped around him. It was the public nature of it; the way that anyone could walk by and see you on top of him. Could see you choosing him. The teacher choosing the Freak.

You roll your hips, denim-on-denim creating a delicious friction that draws moans from both you and Eddie. Your lips chastely graze his neck, trailing kisses upwards until you reach the prickly stubble along his jawline.

Eddie’s hands grab your ass, claiming it as his. “Feels—mmf—feels good,” he grunts, letting out a soft chuckle when he adds, “gonna make me cream my jeans if you keep grinding on me like that.”

“S’okay,” you shrug, maintaining your tempo. You press your lips to his and he whines into your mouth. “Just wanna ease your mind tonight, Eds.”

“Yeah, but the face you make when you cum? Christ, babe. Makes it even better for me.” He scoots you off of him for a moment, laughing again when he sees your lower lip jut out. “Let me just grab a condom, you needy little thing.”

You bury your head in the crook of his neck and begin sucking on its supple skin as he fumbles for his wallet. “Fine, fine,” you grumble, a teasing lilt in your tone. “The last thing we need is for people seeing that you knocked me up.”

Eddie freezes beneath you, his wallet falling to the weather-mat with a thud. “Wh…what?” His voice is below a whisper, volume compressed by emotion.

“We’ve only been together, like, a month.” It’s too obvious a point to confuse him. There’s no way he really wants a kid with you right now. “We can’t have a baby—”

Eddie vehemently shakes his head, effectively cutting you off. “But that’s not what you said.” You see hurt in his eyes as you try to piece together the puzzle. The fact that you can’t immediately identify the source adds another element of frustration for both of you. “You said that we can’t have people seeing that I knocked you up. Why…why wouldn’t you want people knowing that I…?”

The imagined swell of your belly that he’d hoped you proudly show off, mindlessly caressing it as you walk hand-in-hand with him, is now covered with layers of clothing, even in summer’s heat. You’re tugging a cardigan closed, determined not to let anyone see the shame you’re carrying along with Eddie Munson’s child.

“I just figured you wouldn’t want people talking about you,” you manage, thinking of the rumor that had spread after Harris’s injury. You bring yourself back to the driver’s seat, and it takes another moment before something else dawns on you. “You wouldn’t be upset by people knowing? I mean, not that we’d, y’know, have a kid right now…because you already have one, and this is all so new…” You clamp your lips together to shut yourself up, having already blabbered on for too long.

Eddie shakes his head, tousling his frizzy curls. “Why would I be upset? You’re my girl.” Worry ripples through him, evident through his expression. His doe eyes grow even wider, and he spins his rings around his fingers. One slips and bounces off of the passenger seat, but he doesn’t move to retrieve it. “You still want to be my girl, right?”

“I still want to be your girl,” you confirm, watching his body decompress with relief. “I just don’t want to make things even worse than they are. I mean, you can’t even tell me why you were in jail tonight. That’s a pretty big deal, Eds.” There’s a lump in your throat as you force out your feelings. You hate confronting people, hate drawing information from an unwilling party. But Eddie is your boyfriend, and this is serious. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he mutters, keeping his head on the headrest and eyes trained on in front of him; his unwillingness to look at you serves as an act of defiance. “I had to hear about the PTA meeting from Wayne.”

The contents of your stomach curdle like milk in the sun. “You’d just told me about your promotion,” you stumble, unable to find footing in your meek protest, “I didn’t want to—”

“So, yesterday? Or today?” he pushes, a tango of anger and hurt dancing in his darkened pupils. “You could’ve called me.”

You could have; you’d certainly considered it more than once, but you didn’t want to bother him. It seemed like such an asinine complaint: Oh, Eddie, a grown adult bullied me, another grown adult, at the PTA meeting. Did I stand up for myself? Nope. Just sat there and tried not to sob like one of the kids I teach. “I thought if you knew what people were saying, you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. You’d think I was too much of a burden.”

“You?” Eddie gawps, nearly choking on the word. “You think that you’re the burden? That you’re the reason why people are talking about this?” People. Not just Carol. The information slips from his lips, but he doesn’t catch it. “Nah, Sweetheart. In the equation of ‘Teacher’ plus ‘Freak,’ you’re hardly the problematic variable.”

“‘Teacher plus Freak?’”

“Teacher,” he says slowly, pointing to you, “Freak.” He brings his forefinger to his own chest. “I’m kinda used to it; just sucks when it affects other people.” He looks at you through his soft brown eyes. “People I care about.”

You’re unsure how to respond, so you say nothing. You vaguely recall Jess telling you about his high school nickname, but you had no idea it had stuck after all these years.

Eddie sighs, shifting his position to get slightly more comfortable. “Tonight, I was at the store getting some flowers for you. And, um, I heard Carol and Billy Hargrove talking about how you had to be desperate to be with me. That you’d realize you’re too good for me and leave.” His teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lowers his head. You watch a tear slide down his cheek, and he sucks in a messy breath as he tries to control the dam of emotions threatening to burst.

“Too good for you?” The notion is almost comical, and you have to hold back an incredulous laugh. “Too good for the man who rescued Grandma after she locked herself in her room? Who came to her funeral? Who gave me another chance after I made an ass out of myself?” You use your pointer and middle fingers to tilt his chin upwards until his gaze meets yours. “Too good for the man who would do anything for his son?”

“No,” Eddie shoots back, “too good for the guy who grew up being taunted because he played Dungeons & Dragons instead of basketball. The guy who abandoned his pregnant girlfriend to go on tour. Who treated you like shit just to avoid getting close to you. Who…who got arrested for accidentally taking flowers from Bradley’s because he’d stolen from them so much that no one believed him when he said it wasn’t on purpose.” He recalls swiping candy bars, jars of peanut butter, and the occasional six-pack of Pabst during his rebellious teenage years. After he’d schlepped back to Hawkins, proverbial tail tucked between his legs, there was more than one occasion where he’d ripped diapers from their boxes and tucked them into his jacket pocket, walking as casually as he could until he was a safe enough distance to exhale and run.

You take a sharp breath in. “That’s what happened tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says; the admission is a sack of bricks being lifted from his chest. “Those schmucks got in my head, and I walked out the store with the flowers like a fuckin’ idiot.” He replays the scene in his head, inwardly cringing at his desperation to flee the premises and inadvertently drawing everyone’s attention to him. He starts to laugh, but anger, sadness, and relief all brew together and the dam bursts completely. One tear multiples to two, four, eight, until he’s simultaneously choking on sobs and laughter, the overlapping emotions wreaking havoc on his nervous system.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he manages through another half-laugh half-sob. He swipes at his cheeks with open palms, and you reach for the travel box of Kleenex you keep in the glove compartment and hand him a tissue. “Thanks.”

“You don’t ever need to apologize to me for crying,” you murmur, barely audible as you press a kiss into his mess of curls just behind his left ear. “I want–I need you to be able to show me what you’re feeling.” Eddie blows his nose, loud and honking, and your lips turn up into a small smile. “Why do we let them get to us?” you wonder aloud, a question more for you than for him.

“I was thinking about that,” Eddie muses, stuffing the used tissue into his jacket pocket. He’ll try and remember to toss it later, but part of him knows he’ll find it there tomorrow. “Like, I didn’t give a damn what they said about me back in high school, but now, as an adult, I do?” He takes a deep breath through his mouth. “And I realized…it’s because I never cared about what they thought of me. Not really. But, fuck, I care about what you think of me.” He swallows before stroking your cheek. “I want to be enough for you.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, letting your lips linger there longer than necessary to ensure the feeling of belonging becomes entrenched in his pores. “You’re enough, Eddie. You’ve always been enough.” Your hands find his, and you lace your fingers together. “I have an idea. Why don’t we grab some takeout, maybe pick up a bottle of wine, and bring it back to my place.” You immediately worry that you’ve proven his point of not wanting to be seen with him, so you quickly backtrack. “We can still go out to dinner; I just figured…after the night you had…”

He silences you with a kiss of his own, nose nudging the side of yours. “I’d love that.” Before you can start the car again, he says, “what Carol said at the meeting…did it really make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you?”

You nod solemnly, breaking his heart all over again. “You already have so much on your plate. I didn’t want to be another problem to deal with.”

Eddie’s expression hardens, but his frustration isn’t directed towards you. It’s for anyone who has ever made you feel like loving you is a chore. He does the only thing he can think of doing: he takes your face in his hands, fingers tucked behind the smooth skin of your ears, and peppers your face in a flurry of kisses.

“Eddie!” you cry out through a fit of giggles. Your eyes squeeze together as his lips tickle your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your chin.

He only pulls away to take a breath, and when he does, he’s smiling through shiny eyes as he continues holding your face. “You are not a problem. Never.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “We make each other happy. And if anyone tries to fuck with that, we’ll just…sic Harris on them.”

The gray clouds that were scattered across your brain dissipate at the mere idea of the boy charging at Billy and Carol like a miniature rhinoceros. Insecurity still hovers over you, waiting for the perfect blend of sadness and vulnerability to strike, but it’s not quite as heavy as it was before.

You aren’t too much for Eddie, and Eddie is enough for you.

And you’re everything to each other.

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mangosrar · 3 months

Text

call it what you want pt8.

matt sturniolo x fem reader

an: yall my taglist is not working. trust me i have tried to tag you guys it just won’t let me 💔

“well this is a sight for sore eyes”.

you had never moved so fast in your life, you launched yourself off of matts lap, scurrying to your feet, turning to face the voice.

“mom, what are you doing here?” you asked out of breath.

“i could ask you the same thing. what are YOU doing here? in the boys locker room, with him?” she said, folding her arms, raising her eyebrows, and pursing her lips, staring straight at your red face.

“we were just-“ you began before matt, stood up cutting you off.

“mrs kats, i’m matt sturniolo” he said, jabbing his hand out for her to shake.

she didn’t even flinch, she just looked down at his hand in disgust, before bringing her eyes back up to his in a jagged stare.

“i know who you are, and i know what you are, and from what i can see you’ve already made your mark on my daughter” she spat.

“mom” you muttered, as a warning for her to stop.

“what? i’m not the one getting into fights, i’m not the one sticking my tongue down someone’s throat in the boys locker room, while that poor girl nurses a broken nose” she said, raising her voice slightly.

she was pissed.

she stared at you for a second, and when you gave in and looked to the floor, swallowing, she moved her gaze over to matt, letting her eyes linger on his for a second before speaking.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched him squirm under her cold regard.

“and as for you, i suggest you stay as far away from my daughter as you possibly can, or i will have your whole world come crashing down and you will land straight on your ass” she sneered at him. her voice was low and intimidating.

any normal person would’ve crumbled under this type of hounding, but whatever voice spoke inside of matt sturniolo’s head, was a fucking menace.

there was a brief pause, both of them just staring at each other, and when you finally looked up, you wished you could’ve took a photo.

your mother stood in front of matt, face hard, with her arms crossed, looking like she was about to ring his neck, and the devil child of matt sturniolo stood with his hands behind his back, looking calm and collected, with that shit eating smirk on his face that made your knees a little weak.

you weren’t sure how much longer this stand off was going to carry on for, but the anticipation was eating you alive.

suddenly, matt sucked in a breath, turning away from your mother, and sauntering over to you before placing a kiss on your temple and speaking up.

“i’ll meet you in the car baby” he cooed.

lord have mercy.

“and i don’t know how she didn’t drag me home by my hair, she just let me go!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air and dropping them back down.

“she didn’t even try to stop you?” nick asked, quirking his brow.

“i mean yeah but she didn’t put up much of a fight, she just told me i shouldn’t go, and that he’s a bad influence and shit” you replied, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“same old story” chris added, not taking his eyes off of his phone.

somehow, you had ended up at the triplets house, without your mother starting ww3. you hadn’t heard a word, from your dad or caden, and it was a little more concerning than you would like to admit.

the 4 of you were in the living room, chris slumped on the couch, playing some game, you and nick sitting on the floor, and matt on the other couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone, not even paying attention to the conversation.

neither of you had spoken to each other since the locker room incident. he hadn’t even looked at you.

it was so confusing, because every time you felt like the two of you were getting somewhere, matt would push you back out again.

in a weird way, it was a comforting atmosphere. chris and nick didn’t know, and neither you or matt were prepared to mention it, and realistically, it was better that way.

talking about it would solve nothing. both of you would still hate each other, and you would both still regret it. so what was the point.

3:46am

this is exhausting. tossing and turning. you just couldn’t fall asleep. the whole day had been playing on your mind. you couldn’t wrap your head around how so much had happened in such a short amount of time.

nick lay next to you dead asleep, chris and matt upstairs in their own rooms. maybe if you just tried to talk to matt, you would stop thinking about it.

imessage

y/n: are you awake?

matt: what do you want.

y/n: can we talk?

matt: sure.

you found yourself outside his bedroom door, too nervous to go in. why? this needed to be done. you were confused and the two of you were just going in swings and roundabouts.

“are you gonna come in or just stand there like a creep?”

fuck.

you pushed the door open, to be met with matt sitting on his bed, with his phone in his hand. this was awkward. you’d never been in his room before, despite knowing him for 10 years. you never had any reason to.

you padded over to him and took a seat on the side of his bed, next to his legs. you sat silent for a second, looking at him and waiting for him to acknowledge you. he sighed and threw his phone down before meeting your eyes.

“um…i wanted to talk about what happened earlier” you spoke, voice shaky.

he just blinked at you, waiting for you to continue.

you sucked in a breath before just accepting defeat.

“i don’t know what’s going on matt. you treat me like shit and act like you hate me, and then you kiss me? you stood up against elijah, but you’re still so cold towards me? what does this mean?” you frowned at him.

he chewed on his lip for a second, dropping his gaze to his hands in his lap.

the truth was, matt didn’t know what was going on either. he was just as confused as you were and it had completely knocked the wind out of him.

“i just kissed you. it meant nothing. you’re thinking way too deep into it. i figured someone would walk in so that’s why i did it” he shrugged. looking at you with no emotion behind his eyes, and it made your heart ache a little.

“but the whole elijah thing…” you trailed off. “i want to be with him, matt, you can’t kiss me and then pretend like it was nothing.”

“that was just to keep up the act y/n. you’re getting ahead of yourself like you always fucking do” he spat. his voice firm.

you dropped your eyes to your feet, as he stood up, walking over to his desk and messing with something.

“you can’t just kiss me matt, it’s not fair” you whispered, still not looking at him.

he scoffed. “why y/n? because you’re scared of finally getting over him?” you snapped your head up to meet his face, his eyebrows raised in question.

“what are you talking about?” you asked, confused expression on your face.

he turned to face you, looking down like he had the upper hand. he shoved his hands in his pockets before taking a breath in.

“don’t try to act dumb y/n. you crave whatever fucking havoc he brings you. and that is the whole reason you want to be back with him” his voice was quiet but harsh.

“what are you saying matt?” you just simply couldn’t understand why he was talking about this. matt kissed you and that was your concern, not what elijah brought to the table.

“you are too fucking weak to walk away from him. you don’t see what he does, but everyone else around you is laughing it up, watching you fall at his fucking feet. he’ll call you mean names, cheat on you, lie to you, humiliate you, then he will wrap you up, tell you he loves you, let you cry in his arms for his behaviour, and you will believe it. just like the 200 fucking times you have before. but it’s okay right? because his presence is the cure to all the damage he’s done” he spat. he was now in your face, seething.

tears brimmed your waterline. the heavy weight of his words, pressed on your chest. partially because it was true. partially because of the fact it was so obvious what he had done to you.

this was not matts call to make. he had no business knowing this and it was definitely not his place to make you feel like this, because out of all the things elijah has done, he has never been as fucking vile as matthew sturniolo.

“yeah that’s right, you’ll cry, and you’ll say ‘you’re right’ and everyone will feel bad for you, and then in a months time when elijah has you under whatever fucking spell it is that makes you fucking swoon, you’ll go back to him, because whatever damage he has done is so deep rooted and rotten inside of you, it is permanent and you will never get rid of it, no matter how had you fucking try.” matt hissed. his words were dripping with venom, and every single one had poked a hole in the small part of you that still had hope for matt being anything less than the most vile human being to ever walk the earth.

the tears were now full force streaming down your face, as you stared at him with wide eyes, desperately trying to process where this was coming from.

matt almost laughed at your state. his face was cold and switched off and the look behind his eyes was nothing but complete loathing.

you couldn’t even string together a sentence, you just sat there weeping like a wounded dog, trying to fathom how someone who never even gave you the time of day, had you all figured out.

the sound of you sobbing, changed something in matt, and it was like he had suddenly snapped out of this evil trance. his face fell, and his chest ached.

he knew it wasn’t your fault. it was familiarity, consistency. elijah was a fucking disease that you couldn’t fight off no matter how hard you tried.

matt breathed and took a step closer to you, placing a hand on the side of your head. “y/n”. he whispered, in a sad tone.

you shoved him off and stood up abruptly, wiping your face. you wasn’t going to let him pull you back in.

“no matt, you got your point across” you spoke with a shakey voice, putting distance between the two of you. he just stared at you with furrowed brows. before reaching a hand out to grab your arm gently, but you pulled away before he even got the chance, and walked out of his room, slamming the door behind you.

he was on your tail instantly, following you down the hallway.

“y/n wait”

no reply.

“i’m sorry, please just stop”

no reply.

“will you fucking stop!” he yelled. reaching out and grabbing your arm just before you got to the stairs.

when you turned around, he almost fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness when he saw you.

your eyes were glossy and red, and your nose and cheeks were pink, and stained with tear lines.

he did this to you.

“what matt? you got a few more in you, go ahead i’m all ears” you yelled back, with a broken voice.

he sighed and shook his head.

“i’m sorry” he whispered. you just laughed sadly and looked up at the ceiling. he wasn’t sorry.

“i didn’t mean what i said” he swallowed.

“oh i think you meant every fucking word so don’t try and lie to me” you spat through clenched teeth.

he just stared at you wide eyed, trying to think of some way he could make this better.

matt wasn’t lying. he was disgusted with what he has said. it was just one of those moments where angry people say mean things.

he watched as your face contoured. brows furrowed. pursed lips. eyes pinched. desperate to hold in any more tears that so dangerously threatened to spil.

you scoffed in his face, and turned, bolting down the stairs and as far away from matt as you could get, he didn’t even try to stop you. he just stood staring at the spot where you used to be.

and suddenly he realised, you would never truly heal. the pain would eventually be gone but the heart shaped scars elijah left behind would never fade.

——————————————————————————

LMAOOO SORRY YALL. 😛

fat ass taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @sturnssan @biplrbtch @valerieburkens @ukyos ios @eyelessdemon00 on @iheart2021chris @hearts4chriss s @leah-loves-lilies ves-lillies @whicked-hazlatwhore whore @lexihpwardsgf @1201pm-blog @chrislover911 @yourmom-123456789 @x4nd3rsukz @ilovechrissturnioloposts @mattnchrisworld d @leoloveeeee e @jazab3lla @martyniukpl l @sturnbaby @knowingnothingnoel @ilovemattstromboli @obsessedwithyou @dragonstoneshortcake @skyteller143 eloveschris s @biinthisbitch13 @skyteller143 @innocentfsin n @mattswifue @thatcrazybitch-69 9 @ihateeveryone357474 @shmophsturniolo @sturns-posts @mattsturnzzz09 9 @sturnisposts s @jenna0rtegaswife e @jeffbuckleylvr27 7 @katelynmeier14 @sara2233445 5 @alexb25598 @sturniolos4lifee @st7rnioloss @kasiaslayuje @causeidontlikegolsrush @cosmicmistake42069 @xxloveralways14 @24kmar @creamoncreamoncream2 @kennyhop @khloe7233 @sofiasnookiee @sfdfgy @ikeryn n @sleepdeprivedandinsane @quinnroki @lvr444life @ffhgdxgg @travelintheworld 2 @aubreyswift13 13 @sturniololol l @starziick k @heartlesssturniolos @nickmillersn1gf @beautyb1ade @tommysaxes @milenchen08 @sstvrnioloo o @flowerneomie

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recklesssturniolo · 5 months

Text

Worth It - C.S

dom!Chris, overstimulation, shower sex, dating in this & he’s angry (at least at the start), I didn’t write it but they have a safe word & they’re both more than aware of it

A/N: if you guys don’t like this I’m bashing my head against a wall

NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor

As I washed my hair, I notice the door to the washroom open, before being slammed shut.

“Chris?” I called out, assuming if it was one of his brothers they would’ve immediately apologized.

“Mhm” He responded. Clearly annoyed at something.

“What’s wrong? I asked.

“Nick is just a fucking idiot” He mumbled.

“Come shower with me, it’ll calm you down” I said.

He didn’t respond but I could hear him undressing. Not thinking much while he joined me as we’ve showered together before. Him immediately letting out a sigh as he got in and I shifted slightly so he could get under the water. Him ranting to me about how much Nick pissed him off. Only a couple minutes later, before I could even comprehend it I was pinned against the shower wall.

“You knew what you were doing telling me to join you in here” He said, tilting my chin up so we were making direct eye contact, “Thinking you could tease me like a little slut” His hands roaming my body as his lips connected to mine.

A moan fell from my lips, unable to form a response.

“Already desperate huh?” He asked. His hand lowering to my pussy, a smirk immediately forming on his face before he spoke again, “Look at you, already fucking wet”

“I - yeah” I mumbled. His anger turning me on as he only seemed to become more rough as he continued, his hand making his way to my throat and squeezing.

“Be a good girl for me and get on your knees” He said, smirking.

Nodding, I got onto my knees, the water streaming down on us both. Taking his dick into my hand and stroking him slowly.

“Don’t even fucking think about teasing me” He growled out - his anger clearly still present.

With that I took all of him into my mouth. My tongue swirling around his dick as I did so. His hand going to the back of my head, pushing it so I had all of him in my mouth. Gags leaving my mouth as he continued pushing my head.

“Fuck, so good to me” He groaned out, his hands raising me up from the shower floor.

My back now against his chest, he immediately begins running circles on my clit with his thumb, sliding his fingers down my folds and running them around my entrance.

“Chris” I whimper, my arousal at a high, needing his finger inside of me.

“Use your fucking words” He growled.

“I need - your fingers inside me, please” I whimper.

“Such a needy slut” He said, before slamming his fingers into me. A whimper falling from my mouth as they stretched me, his palm hitting my clit each time he pushed his fingers back.

“Fuck Chris, feels so good” I whine.

“Yeah? You gonna prove it to me and come on my fingers” He says.

“Yeah - just don’t stop please” I moan out, slightly embarrassed at how fast I was about to come.

“So pathetic already clenching around my fingers, coming like the whore you are and I’m not even finished with you yet” He says, my climax hitting me but him not stopping.

“Fuck me, please I need you” I beg.

“Not yet, be patient” He replies. His hand grabbing the shower head.

“What are you - holy fuck” I whine out, throwing my head back and pausing mid sentence as he put the shower head to my clit letting the water hit in with pressure.

“You like that huh? My fingers inside you while the water hits your clit” He asks.

“Yes but I can’t handle it fuck” I moan out.

“You’re gonna handle it, don’t act like you can’t” He groans out, clearly enjoying me being a mess while against him.

He continues slamming his fingers into me, the shower head only increasing my pleasure as cries and whimpers fell from my mouth as a knot in my stomach began to form.

“Chris I’m gonna come again” I basically whisper out, barely able to speak at this point.

“Come on then, let go for me pretty girl” He replies. His voice softening, slightly singling to me that his anger was dissipating.

That was all I needed to come, my whines only becoming louder, my legs now trembling as Chris pushed the shower head closer to my clit. I feel the loss of the water on myself, and his fingers slip out of me but feeling his dick running up and down my folds.

“You’re gonna come for me one last time, all over my dick” He demands.

“I’m so sensitive Chris fuck” I whine.

“You can handle it, I know you can ma” He says, it now being fully evident by his change of words that his anger was gone.

He slowly begins pushing himself into me, my breath hitching in my throat as his did, still not having come down from my previous high.

“So tight” Chris groans as his hands move to my hips, helping him fasten his pace as well as hold up my body, my legs feeling as if they’d give out at any moment from the constant pleasure I had been receiving.

“It - fuck” I whimper.

“It what? Come on, you know to use your words mama” He groans out, beginning to slam into me. Him clearly wanting to come himself.

“It feels so good but I - shit Chris” I whine.

“Such a good girl for me taking my dick, show me how good you can be and come one last time for me” He groans out, his climax growing closer. Him continuing to slam into me as I felt tears form in my eyes from how sensitive I was, my pussy still throbbing around his dick at the pleasure.

Chris’ groans became louder, his voice becoming raspy and his strokes in and out of me becoming sloppy.

“I’m gonna come ma, come with me, you’ve got it, I can feel your pussy clenching around me” He growled.

Now not able to form a sentence, my eyes clenching shut, holding on to the shower bar as I hit my third climax. Not able to suppress the volume of my whimpers and moans, Chris himself groaning as he filled me up. My legs now buckling.

“I got you, relax pretty girl” Chris responds, leaving small kisses on my shoulder, “so pretty coming undone for me like that, taking all of it”

Following this, helping me out of the shower and to his room, checking I was okay and grabbing me water before laying next to me.

“I don’t even know how to explain how good that was” I say, his arms wrapping around me.

“Yeah? I don’t know how to explain how good you looked and how I could’ve came just at the sounds you were making” He replied, before smirking slightly, “I think that was a good way of getting my anger out”

I mumbled that I agreed before pulling his arms tighter around me as I fought to stay awake.

“Sleep ma, I’ll be here if you need any help getting up afterwards” He laughs

“Yeah you’re gonna be giving me piggy back rides everywhere” I mumbled.

“Worth it”

TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @cupidsword @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lxvlysworld @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @mattsd0ll @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo smut #dom!Chris #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #solo triplets x reader #sub!reader

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lilacsinjuly · 11 months

Text

needy.

miguel o’hara x reader

summary:

miguel is suffering with the side effects of his vampirism: the insatiable hunger. you, a doctor, will stop at nothing to help him, no matter what. it’s your job, afterall.

CW: smut, biting, lowkey vampire sex, rough, i didnt do amazing in my gcse spanish course so i’m sorry for the rough attempt at miguel speaking spanish LMAO, hardly proof read mb, bit of oral (f receiving), mentions of blood, pain and injury. fem reader.

word count: 2.1k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t resist. His brain felt like it was begging to break out of his skull. Everything hurt, but it wasn’t the kind of pain he could turn to you for help with.

It was the kind of pain that stemmed from the unfortunate bite all those years ago. A pain that derived from a never-ending hunger within him, resulting in constant hunger and sharpened fangs.

“Miguel, how many times do I have to say it? It’s my job. It’s what I'm paid to do! Just let me help you and we can-”

“No.” he cut you off sharply. When he had hired you after a particularly nasty fight that ended in a lot of spidermen injured but there was a lack of medics to help, he didn’t realise everything you did or said would have so much of an affect on him. If he had known, he would’ve never even looked in your direction because, god, you were intoxicating. “No puedo más, mierda. [i can’t anymore, fuck]. You can’t help me, okay? Just go home.” He seethed.

He wasn’t angry with you, never you. He was angry at how he had to turn your sweet words and caring touch away just because he couldn’t risk hurting you.

“You’re so frustrating, Miguel. you never let me help you.” He stood with his back to you, because he knew that if he looked behind him and saw you standing with your arms folded, a cute pout on your lips and the smooth skin of your neck on display, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back anymore.

If he ever came close to hurting you, even if somehow the domino effect of something he did led to you getting injured, he would never forgive himself for as long as he lived. You were only human, you weren’t a spider like the rest of them. You were fragile, and couldn’t protect yourself as well as you could save others.

“You should know by now I won't stop until I get what I want.” you began walking up behind him. “You’re clearly struggling with something. your breathing is heavy, you haven’t been walking or talking properly since you came back from your mission.” a sudden realisation popped into your brain. “You didn’t hit your head on your mission today, did you? Miguel- you told me there wasn’t a scratch on you, I can’t help you if you’re lying to me.”

Finally, he turned around to face you, his head hung low but he could see every inch of your perfect body. No longer could he restrain himself from the all-consuming thirst he felt as he flashed his fangs and suddenly appeared in front of you, pinning you against the wall. “No quiero ayuda. [I don't want your help]. I just want it to stop.”

You tilted your head up at him. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in your eyes despite your position and he felt his heart stop. “You aren’t scared?” He breathed out. His eyes were wide and red. His heart was beating increasingly fast and his throat was getting dry.

He was so used to being the one people would cower around. Yet with you, you always seemed to defy his expectations. He stood in front of you, restraining himself from killing you, and yet you had barely even blinked.

You moved your hair out of the way of your neck, causing him to try and push himself away from you but you grabbed his wrist before he could. “It’s my job to help you. That’s why I'm here. So let me help you.”

He found it so hard to disobey you when you looked up at him so gently. Yet it was that look that reminded him of his affection towards you and made him shake his head profusely in denial. He refused to hurt you, even when you asked him to.

You pulled him by his wrist, closer to you, tempting him in as he complied thoughtlessly. His mind was reeling with the thought that it was your hand touching his wrist. It was your hand that slowly traced up his back and it was your fingers that threaded through his hair at that moment. Slowly, you guided his head down towards your open neck as every doubt inside his mind froze against his will. All of his morals disappeared. Everything he stood by, his dedication to protecting you, gone within a minute of you delicately caressing him.

“Please, Miguel, let me help you.”

When you pleaded with him so innocently, when your words slipped so tenderly from your pretty lips, he could no longer hold himself back. The shackles he’d chained himself to for so long, the restraints he’d built with his bare hands, crumbled like castles.

His sharp fangs sunk themselves into the crook of your neck and you whimpered slightly in pain, biting your lip.

Miguel lost himself in the taste of you as he forced you up harder against the wall. Still, it wasn’t enough. He needed his entire body against yours. He grabbed your leg, wrapping it around his waist as he continued to slowly suck the blood from your neck.

His hands pawed against you and massaged your hips. You felt yourself growing increasingly more wet at the feeling of him pressed up so close against you with his lips against your neck.

Somehow, the pain faded as you got used to it and all you could feel was the sensation you got as he ground himself against you, overpowered with need and moaning into your neck.

His head was spinning as his blood pumped vigorously. He’d never experienced such a high, such an addictive drug that devoured him whole and swallowed him completely.

You could feel how much he needed this. The feeling of peace and pleasure overshadowed the one of pain, yet, as you felt yourself go faint, you began to shake yourself out of the trance his lips against your neck put you in. In an odd way, you’d let him drink from you forever if it meant the feeling of his skin against yours.

You tapped his waist, urging him off you as he withdrew.

You placed your hand against your neck as a sudden pang of soreness washed over you. However, the sight before you was one you’d never forget as you looked up to meet his eyes. His lips stained with your blood before he wiped it away sent a strange sensation down your back as you closed your legs.

“Thank you, mi dulce niña. [my sweet girl].” he took your face between his thumb and index finger. Your faces were unbearably close. The desire to taste your own blood on his lips consumed you as your eyes flickered between his and his lips.

You stood against the wall of the empty hallway to his room in silence, your bodies begging for each other yet your mouths too shy to make it known.

Instead, he opted for silently taking you down the dimly lit corridor to his room, his fingers intertwined with yours.

The second his door closed, your back was against it. His lips finally pressed against yours as you sighed in contentment. Once again, your leg was hiked up as he caressed the supple skin of your thigh.

A rough yet gentle hand made its way up to your face as he ran his thumb up and down against your cheek. “I need you so bad. You don’t know what you’ve done to me. Everyday, I think about you. Your lips, your voice, your smile, your hips. I can’t fucking get enough of you and it kills me that I cant physically be as close to you as I want to be.” he murmured against your lips whilst you breathed shaky breaths against his.

You didn’t know what to say, or how to put your feelings into words because he had already summed it up so perfectly for you. “I can’t get enough of you either.”

He carried you to the bed and placed you down, his touch never once leaving your skin except to take his suit off.

Your hand ran across the scars of his chest, some you had fixed up yourself, up to his neck where you pulled him against you once more. He struggled to get your uniform off quickly with the continuous kiss and lack of sense as the thought of you naked beneath him fogged up his mind.

Miguel broke the kiss, and the sight of you with your hair splayed out across the mattress, skin glistening and your eyes half-lidded with lust had him weak in the knees as his dick grew harder against your thigh.

The moonlight peaked out past the gaps of his curtains, highlighting your frame and making him desperate.

He began to kiss down your body, leaving marks across your collarbone where he would occasionally bite.

He sucked and licked your nipples gently as you writhed beneath his touch, desperately yearning for more of his rough touch.

“I need you, miguel.”

“Patient now, mi dulce niña. [my sweet girl]” he replied, looking up at you from between your legs as he slowly began kissing down towards where you needed him so badly. He stroked your thighs and nipped at them harshly, yet the pain merged so beautifully with the pleasure that it all became one big blur.

He asked you to be patient, but after so long of longing stares and discreet touches, being patient was the last thing on your mind as you bucked your hips up, itching for his touch.

“Niña mala [bad girl]. What did I just tell you?” he snarled.

“Please, Miguel, I'm begging you. I’ve waited so long- I can’t be patient anymore.” you pleaded with him. It seemed to be enough to convince him as he brought your hips up to his face and flicked his tongue skillfully against your pussy as you gasped surprisingly.

He moved his tongue rhythmically, snatching pleas and moans from your lips. It wasn’t too long before he slid in one of his fingers... then another. He thrusted them inside you relentlessly, praising you for taking what he was giving you without another complaint.

His tongue and his fingers combined clouded your senses and made you feel as though nothing - no one - would ever come close to satisfying you so well. However, just as you clenched around him, he pulled out. You whined and cried for him to stop playing around, but he simply ignored you.

Miguel needed to feel you come around his dick if you were going to come anywhere. He needed you both to finish together. He craved the feeling of your bodies merging together in that haze of relief and exhaustion before he pulled out.

He moved back up to your face and your eyes locked; a feeling rushed over you that made your heart swell. You don’t think you could ever get enough of him.

He grabbed his painfully hard dick, stroking it against your folds. You bucked against him hopelessly. Luckily, he took the hint and slid himself somewhat smoothly inside of you, though the pain of the stretch was inevitable.

Your hands immediately went to his back, gripping on as if it would save you. Miguel groaned at the pain as he pulled back slightly and thrusted harshly back in.

He noticed the bite marks on your neck, and the blood that still gradually fell from it due to the lack of treatment. He leaned down, licking the blood up and moaning as he pounded himself into you savagely.

Everything was overwhelming. The feeling of him licking and sucking the blood from your neck, the pain of your hands clawing down his back, the unrelenting pummelling inside of you and the sounds of skin against skin and voices intertwining in the air.

It sent you both spiralling.

“ ‘m g’nna- come, Miguel.” you heaved out.

His hand trailed down to your aching pussy as he slid a finger against your clit and began rubbing viciously. Your moans dominated the room at the extra pleasure as you began to slip from your control.

“Come with me.” he demanded as he hammered inside of you without any remorse.

It was everything you had both dreamed it would be and more. The feeling of letting go together shook you both as you clenched around him, sucking him in, and as he shot his load inside of you.

You both lay there for what felt like an eternity of comfort and serenity. Your bodies pressed up against each other with your eyes closed, just soaking up the moment without any anxieties or thoughts.

However, to your dismay, Miguel pulled back. He took your face in his palm again, marvelling at your vulnerable state. He would be the only one to see you like this.

He placed his forehead against yours as your breaths became synchronised along with your heartbeats, creating the sound of peace and belonging.

<333

note: read the extra here.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel x you #spiderverse fanfic #spiderverse smut #atsv fic #atsv smut #atsv x reader #atsv x you #smut #fanfic

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daisies-daydreams · 4 months

Note

Can I request a oneshot where Keegan has a really bad migraine with a fever and the 141 gets a little jealous when Y/N who's a doctor takes care of him

Doctor's Orders (Keegan P. Russ x F!Doctor!Reader)

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Doctor!Reader Category: Fluff Warnings: Swearing, Depictions of Medical Examinations, Jealous!141, Implications of Violence, Different POVs Word Count: 1.3k+

A/N: Hello there! I'm so so sorry it's taken me this long to reply to your request, but I hope you enjoy it! 💖

You sighed as you stepped into your office, the welcoming sight of your Keurig drawing you towards your desk. It wasn’t the routine medical check-ups that got you…it was your patients. If you hadn’t taken the Hippocratic Oath, you’re pretty sure you would’ve strangled them. One after the other, they never failed to flash you a cheeky grin, throw a wink, or say some cheesy pick-up line.

You popped a new pod into the Keurig before sinking into your swivel chair. You rubbed your temples as you took a deep breath, the stress melting away as you felt the sunlight pour in through your window. A knock on the door suddenly stirred you from your thoughts.

"Duty calls," you muttered. You sat up straight and maneuvered a bit in your chair. “Come in,” you said. You raised a brow as the door creaked open before a familiar face appeared.

“Good to see you, Russ,” you smiled as you slid your hand around the handle of your warm mug. Keegan was one of your favorite patients. Despite being curt, he was always respectful towards you. You frowned when you saw his unusually rosy cheeks and a sheen of sweat covering his face.

“Russ, what’s wrong?” you asked as he sat in the chair across from you. The man’s dark eyes looked strained as he clenched his jaw.

“I’ve got a killer headache, doc,” Keegan mumbled. “Feel like I have a pretty crappy fever, too,” he added as he folded his hands together. You scanned him up and down. Usually you refuse to see patients outside of office hours…but since he’s not really being a bother…

You set your piping drink onto your desk before taking a forehead thermometer from one of your drawers. You saw his eyes soften as you stepped over, your white lab coat swaying a bit as you came near him.

“Let’s have a look-see,” you smiled gently. He nodded, only to grunt and squeeze his eyes shut. You turned on the thermometer before scanning his forehead. You frowned when you looked at the small screen.

“Well, your temperature is a bit higher than average,” you said. Keegan remained quiet as you pulled out a small flashlight. “I’m going to shine these in your eyes for just a moment,” you said. You examined his pupils, watching as they shrank in the light. “Hmm…doesn’t look like you have a concussion,” you thought aloud as you turned off the flashlight. “Are you experiencing any other symptoms? Shortness of breath? Sore throat?” you asked as you pushed the buds of your stethoscope into your ears. Keegan shook his head as you placed the diaphragm over his sternum. Your brows furrowed as the sound of his rapid heartbeat pounded in your ears.

“Your heart’s beating awfully fast,” you frowned. You noticed his cheeks darkened another shade of red as you slid the metal piece to another part of his chest. “Take one deep breath for me,” you said as you took a deep inhale. Keegan followed you, his lungs sounding just fine. You hummed before checking his back. You flushed a little at the feeling of his muscles flexing beneath your simple touch. You cleared your throat and quickly stepped back.

“I’ve had migraines before, but never one with a fever,” Keegan spoke up. You turned your head towards him and nodded.

“Are you prone to sinus infections?” you asked as you splayed a wooden depressor over his tongue. The man blinked before slowly nodding.

“‘Tis the season,” he said with a shrug. You chuckled a little before tossing the tool into the bin.

“Well Russ, if you start to feel worse, come back and see me. But for now, I want you to rest, drink lots of fluids, and take plenty of ibuprofen and some mucus relievers. You can find them over the counter,” you said. Your breath hitched as he suddenly stood up, his chest nearly brushing over yours.

“Thanks, doc,” he said, his voice dropping a few octaves as he gazed into your eyes. You nodded as you smoothed your hands over your lab coat.

“Of course,” you smiled with a nod. You walked him to the door, your brows arching as he paused in the threshold.

“You know, you’re really good to us, (L/N). I’m not sure how us idiots would survive without someone like you looking out for us,” he grinned. Your throat tightened as you squeezed your hands together.

“T-Thank you,” you mirrored his expression. Keegan gave a short nod, though you found it strange how quickly his demeanor shifted as he walked down the hall. You looked on before slowly closing your door.

----

Keegan rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Of course his heart was beating rapidly: he was mere inches from the most beautiful woman on base. He whistled to himself as he walked out of the clinic and into the rec hall. He paused in the doorway when he saw the 141 crew staring daggers at him just as he entered.

“Is there something on my face?” Keegan asked.

“Nah,” Soap said as he crossed his arms and glanced away. The American man raised a brow.

“Come on, guys. This isn’t Mean Girls,” he grunted.

“Then why are you lying like Regina George?” Gaz huffed. Keegan’s eyes widened a little before he composed himself.

“People can still talk if they have a migraine, Garrick,” he said.

“Sure, but you’re acting awfully spry for someone who has a fever, too,” Ghost grunted. Keegan’s lips tightened into a straight line. The men around him wore the nastiest glares as he cleared his throat.

“I got better,” he said as he glanced behind his shoulder.

“God dammit, Russ. Playing the wounded gazelle gambit? Really?” Gaz groaned. Keegan simply shrugged.

“Hey, it worked,” he said. The three men’s eyes widened.

“What?” Soap asked. The American smirked.

“While the three of you were drooling over (Y/N), I took a more…subtle, approach,” he said. “Simple as that,” Keegan added.

“Let’s get him,” Ghost said as he cracked his knuckles. The Sergeant held up his hands.

“C’mon, gents, are we really going to resort to violence over our doctor?” he asked. The 141 silently stared at him as they slowly approached.

“I guess that answers my question,” he laughed before turning on his heel.

Epilogue

“What exactly did you do to get a black eye?” you asked with a worried expression. Keegan hissed as he placed an ice pack over his dark, swollen eye.

“You know me, always taking a joke too far,” the Sergeant shrugged. He glanced over at the door to see the 141 scowling at him.

“You poor thing. First you have a fever and a migraine, and now you’ve got a big bruise on your face,” you frowned. Keegan nodded slowly and winced as his eye throbbed.

“Just my luck, right?” he chuckled softly. You sighed.

“Seriously, I want you to go back to your quarters and get some good rest. Doctor’s orders,” you said as you pointed your pen at him before writing him a note.

“Yes ma’am,” Keegan grins softly as he takes the note between two of his fingers. You offer him a small smile as he slips off the examination table.

“Take care, Russ. And I better not see you for the rest of the day, okay?” you giggled. Keegan’s heart skipped a beat at your bubbly laugh.

“What if I saw you for drinks this Friday instead?” he asked. You paused as your cheeks flushed a little. You bit your bottom lip as you squeezed the cord of your stethoscope.

“Depends on where we go,” you said as you narrowed your eyes.

“Your choice,” Keegan replied. Your face lit up a little as you hummed.

“Alright, deal. But on one condition,” you said. Keegan’s eyes sparkled as he nodded.

“Sure. What’s on your mind, doc?” he asked as he straightened his posture.

“You have to promise to stop pretending to be sick just to come see me, alright?” you said with a wry grin. Keegan’s jaw dropped.

So much for being subtle.

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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fourstarsoutofnine · 9 months

Note

I was wondering if you could do something with reader yeeting a weighted blanket at the chain and their reactions? I got reminded of that weighted blanket trend and thought it’d be funny

A/N:HAHAHA ABSOLUTELY OMG this ask made me actually laugh out loud😭 I have a weighted blanket I use sometimes bc it helps with chronic pain(I have arthritis) and anxiety and such—also I’ve always wanted to do that trend w someone but I’ve been to scared bc I don’t wanna hurt anybody :( anyway enjoy!

The chain and a weighted blanket!

(For simplicity’s sake, we’ll say they have weighted blankets in Hyrule lol)

Time:

Is a bit confused with the initial throw(I’d be struggling if I tried tbh) like—why is a blanket being thrown on him, but once it hits him, he stumbles back with a groan and a laugh

“What’s wrong with this thing, great goddesses!”

Totally thinks it’s funny

Will be buying a weighted blanket as soon as possible to get Malon with it…also just cause it feels nice.

Twilight:

Catches it

“Hylia, this is heavy, why is this blanket heavy???”

When you(albeit shocked, cause how did he freaking catch it) explain to him that it has sand(?) in it, and what it can be used for, he’s pleasantly surprised.

“Oh wow! Who would’ve thought of such a thing!”

He accompanies you to go get Wild with it.

Wild:

Body folds like a lawn chair

“OGH-“ and a thunk on the ground 💀

But he’s laughing!

Pokes his head out and just kinda lays there. Twilight’s cackling his head off behind you.

“Why?” He asks with a laugh and you just

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Funny is funny, and it’s nice to have a few pranks here and there, both to keep you on your toes and have a laugh.

Sky:

Also folds like a lawn chair

Except he doesn’t like his head out like wild. When there’s no movement and you peek under, he’s asleep

Mans can fall asleep anywhere anytime in a short amount of time. Sleeping is like second nature to him.

“Sky???”

Nothing. Dead silence. You’re actually beginning to wonder if it knocked him out, but no. He’s snoring, and seems perfectly fine. It’s just comfy and he decided it was time to honk his shoos. Go night night for a bit.

Wars:

You throw it at him from behind and he stumbles forward into the stump he was using as a table for planning their next route.

“Agh! Hey!!!”

Was originally upset but when he saw how hard you were laughing, he can’t seem to make himself stay mad

You were too cute, and far too happy. He didn’t want to ruin that.. and it was a little funny

“Alright Alright, You’ve had your fun…. Now go get the vet.” He said with a soft smile. The effect you had on these boys was remarkable

Legend:

Get ready to run, and run fast

Yeah—he’s… pretty much the only one that didn’t take it well.

You threw it on him and he fell forward and cursed

“Y/n what gives?!”

Though when he saw how upset his yelling made you, he softened.

“It was just a joke, I didn’t mean—“

“No. It’s whatever.” He drops the blanket to the ground with a thud and crossed his arms. “It’s fine. Stop looking like that, though. All…sad. You look like a wet dog… or wet blanket, more appropriately..”

That made you crack a smile, and he huffed and rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning up as he turned away.

You can’t figure out if he said the pun with the intention of making you laugh or not, but it worked. (Spoiler alert, yes he did. He’s a softie whether he likes it or not and he has a particular soft spot for you.)

(Totally got the blanket to sleep under it for comfort, but if you told anyone or asked him about it he’d deny everything.)

Hyrule:

“AAH!” He yelled as he flew forward when you threw it on his back.

He’s laughing, which is good.

Like time, he just laughs and holds it out to you, only he’s doing it with a touch of struggle to keep his arms out until you take it.

“That’s so heavy! What the heck! How did it get like that???”

After a long winded explanation, he really likes it!

Definitely asks for it one night, especially after a particularly rough battle.

Four:

Like Wars, he’s a bit upset but laughs it off, because at the end of the day, it is funny

Just make sure to pay attention to when you’re throwing it on him. Make sure he’s not working on any weapons—that’s dangerous ground both in injury and messing the weapon up.

Then, he’d actually be upset(but not for too long. He can’t stay mad at you.)

“Oh cmon!” He laughs, shoving you once he’s out from under the blanket.

Once he gets over his small upset, he’s laughing louder. It starts being real funny to him.

“That’s so dumb, that’s so dumb.” He says through laughter.

Wind:

He goes FLYING

“Hey y/—WAH!”

When you pick it up he’s got the biggest mischievous grin

“THATS CRAZY! LETS GO GET THE OTHERS!”

Thinks it’s the funniest thing known to mankind

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hufflegruff · 11 months

Text

Chapter 1: A Knowing Look

Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Summary: In which Sebastian is whipped and literally everyone can see from a mile away that this is more than friendship.

“Friend?” Ominis said incredulously. No, no. It was one thing for Sebastian to call her a friend in passing. To explain it away because there was simply no concise word to describe the awkward purgatory between friendship and undying devotion. But to excuse this miserable pining under the guise of friendship? Come on. That would be making a mockery of his intelligence. Dubiously, Sebastian replied, “You say it like that’s news to you.” “Well, that’s because it is.” Ominis said pointedly, “Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

Chapter 1: Ominis

Ominis Gaunt was astute. Despite his impairment, he could still see more than the average seeing witch or wizard. His oldest friend, Sebastian Sallow, was living proof of this.

For the past hour, Sebastian had been stuffing food mindlessly down his throat, his attention lost on something across the other side of the Great Hall. He paid no mind to any question that Ominis had raised. No mention of quidditch, duels, or hijinks (and Sebastian loved hijinks) managed to tear his gaze away.

If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that Sebastian had been poisoned or hexed.

But he did know better. And he didn’t need sight to know what (or rather who) had him so entranced.

“Sebastian. Please. Please. For the love of Merlin, stop with the staring.”

Sebastian spun around so fast he conjured a gust of wind into Ominis' face. He was surprised that the boy’s neck didn’t snap off from the whiplash.

“Who’s staring?” Sebastian bit back defiantly, with the slightest tinge of guilt in his voice. Like a small boy caught red-handed (and red-faced).

“You. At her.” Ominis quipped, “As if she’ll disintegrate if you look away for even a second.”

Sebastian said, “I wasn’t staring—”

Ominis snorted.

“— And even if I was ,” Sebastian bulldozed on, “Can’t a friend look out for another friend?”

“Friend?” Ominis said incredulously.

No, no. It was one thing for Sebastian to call her a friend in passing. To explain it away because there was simply no concise word to describe the awkward purgatory between friendship and undying devotion. But to excuse this miserable pining under the guise of friendship?

Come on. That would be making a mockery of his intelligence.

And if Ominis learned anything - anything at all - from bearing the Gaunt family name, it was that he was not to be made a fool. Ever.

Dubiously, Sebastian replied, “You say it like that’s news to you.”

“Well, that’s because it is.” Ominis said pointedly, “Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

If Ominis had a penchant for drama, he would’ve rather enjoyed casting a cup of pumpkin juice into Sebastian’s terribly stupid face. In the hopes that it might wake him up from his denial. But alas, Ominis did not. So instead, he simply folded his arms cynically in a display of disbelief. Imagining the shell shocked look on his best friend’s face would suffice for now.

Sebastian sputtered out, “Like what?” He flailed his arms inelegantly as his whole body moved in retort, “I look at her the same way I look at everyone. You, Nerida... even bloody Hecat!”

Ominis wrinkled his nose, “God forbid, you ever look at me the way you look at her.”

“Like what.”

“Like a soppy mooncalf babe needy for attention.”

Sebastian was rendered speechless. Like a fish out of water, his mouth floundered open and closed. Ominis had to fight the urge to roll his eyes so hard it reached the nerve-endings in the back of his skull. Sebastian was smart (sometimes too smart). But this wild goose chase was plain stupid.

After what felt like eternity, Sebastian muttered quietly, “I’m not a mooncalf…”

“Mhm.” Ominis managed through pursed lips.

“And I don’t look at her - in whatever ridiculous way you’re implying.” He said this more vehemently.

“If you say so.”

“If anything, I’m just looking out for her.” Sebastian began indignantly, “She’s been so busy running errands for every witch and wizard in this bloody place, I swear this is the first time she’s been in the building in weeks!”

Sebastian was being dramatic. Ominis knew for a fact that they had spent quality time together by the boat docks just a mere two days ago; huddled in close quarters after a trip frolicking by the Clagmar coast. If the hushed whispers of prying fourth years were to be believed, Sebastian had been the picture of bliss. Fully content and totally whipped.

But now here he sat, two moons later, a completely different boy. Moody and sullen, lost in the absence of her attention. Ominis has spent the better half of his lifetime enduring Sebastian’s many moods and temperaments. This — he had sorely decided — was one that he was less fond of.

She wasn’t even sitting all that far away from them. On a table near the entrance to the Great Hall, she was engrossed in a deep, animated conversation with Natsai and Poppy. After Ominis’ accusations, Sebastian had made the conscious decision to avoid looking her way.

The mopey mooncalf comparison had wounded him a little. But the Ominis could sense his friend’s impatience. He could sense the itch in his fingertips yearning to push himself off the table towards her. The anxious tapping of his foot, almost signalling: so close, but so far.

“If you feel so desperately inclined, why not just get up and go speak to her?”

Sebastian stiffened, “There’s no need, I’ve nothing urgent to speak to her about.”

“So, you’re simply staring at her in admiration?”

“Oh sod off Ominis, I was just-”

Before more protests could leave his mouth, a patter of footsteps hurriedly approached them. As if conjured by Sebastian’s sheer will alone, she appeared magically before them. The girl they’d been just speaking of. No longer half a mile away. Just here, at arm's length. In the flesh.

Merlin, when had she gotten up from her seat?

“Sebastian. Ominis.” She greeted them with a wide smile on her face. Her bright eyes, filled with unbridled warmth, met theirs. Ominis swore he could hear Sebastian’s breath catch in his throat.

“Hey,” Sebastian said breathlessly, as if she’d sucked the wind right out of his lungs herself.

In the wake of her arrival, Sebastian instinctually moved to sit up straighter, smoothed the creases in his robe, and ran a hair through his unruly hair. The distracted, weary shell of a boy suddenly long gone, replaced by a young man full of spirit, miraculously brought back to life.

Good lord, Ominis thought, the boy was entirely smitten.

“Hello,” Ominis greeted, “I hear the Hero of Hogwarts has been quite busy.”

She laughed lightly before moving to fill the empty seat beside Sebastian, “I’ve certainly been busy, but doing nothing particularly heroic. I’ve somehow found myself becoming the go-to witch for slacking students in need of last minute potion supplies.”

How she ended up becoming the student body’s errand runner — Ominis would never know. The week she first arrived, she’d been quick to be coined the Slayer of Trolls. But from what he’d garnered from their few interactions, it was very like her to comply with every request that fell upon her ears, no matter how frivolous.

The chivalry was strong with this one.

“Well I certainly hope you’re being well compensated, at least,” said Ominis.

“Being so sought after and all, I’m surprised that you managed to find time to squeeze us in your busy schedule.” Sebastian finally said teasingly, with only a sliver of bitterness.

She looked over at him and an earnest smile grew on her face, “I will always make time to visit my favourite Slytherins.”

She had certainly said Slytherins (plural). But Ominis had a sneaking suspicion that she was saying it for the benefit of one Slytherin (singular) in particular. And it definitely had an effect on him.

Just visible under the warm light, Sebastian’s cheeks grew red. The rumbling anxiousness that was rife in his body diffused into a soft, pacified murmur at her words. She had only said a small, simple affirmation. How hysterical it was that Sebastian Sallow - Hogwarts resident charmer - became mush in her small, delicate hands.

“And thank goodness for that,” Ominis interjected, “A certain someone has been prudently waiting for your return.”

“Is that so?” She said with an eyebrow quirked.

“He’s been in ruins ever since you left him by the docks.”

If looks could kill, Ominis would’ve been buried seven feet under rubble. Sebastian shot him a scathing glare, as if to scream how did you even know? Too bad Ominis would never be the wiser.

“Has he now?” She drawled.

“Please, I beg of you to fix it.”

“Well then, my sincerest apologies,” Her voice twinkled, full of mischief as she sent Sebastian a cheeky grin, “I didn’t realise I’d be so missed.”

Ominis did not miss the amusement in her voice. It made him wonder if she knew the effect her every waking move had on Sebastian. If she was aware that if she’d told him to jump or roll over, he’d likely pander to her every whim like an obedient puppy.

“Don’t listen to him,” Sebastian said hurriedly, “He’s delusional, what with all those extra hours Professor Binns has had him clocking in.”

Ominis cocked his brow. Oh. Is that how he wanted to play it?

“Right. I’m the delusional one.” Ominis said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Under the table, out of sight from her keen eye, Sebastian kicked Ominis in a bid to get him to hush.

Sebastian quickly returned his attention to the girl next to him. Mustering as much levity as his voice could carry, he reminded her:

“Onto more important matters… You promised me your time this weekend, did you not? Don’t forget,” Sebastian said firmly.

If Ominis wasn’t so annoyed by the frivolity of it all, he might have even thought it cute. All this yearning and nervousness that he radiated. Trying his best to appear nonchalant in the face of his Achilles heel.

Teasingly, she replied, “Don’t worry. I would never.”

There was a pause after she spoke. Suddenly, the air felt a little more dense. The soft, charmed look in her eyes — as they held onto his friend’s — became slightly heavier with the weight of things left unsaid. Just as he had in Sebastian, he sensed a longing deep within her.

If Sebastian was mercurial, stolen glances and raging fires, she was endlessness, tender touches and sun in your eyes on a quiet summer day.

Merlin’s beard. It was both of them.

They were both obtusely pining for each other.

Ominis cursed his own luck, how did he always manage to find himself in the middle? If he hadn’t felt it so outrageously out of place for him to say, he would’ve smacked both their heads silly with his wand.

Instead, he just gently cleared his throat, which broke the spell between them. They’d both looked away, but a dust of pink still lingered on their cheeks.

“Actually,” she began, “I’ve been trying to find information on this blasted ancient Heirloom for Helena Thistlewood. If you’re also free tomorrow afternoon Sebastian, I was wondering if I could perhaps get your help in the library—"

“Yes.”

The word left his mouth so quickly and so forcefully (like it had been sitting anxiously on the edge of his teeth just waiting to be said) that a whole slew of Slytherin students seated nearby jumped in surprise.

Sebastian hadn’t even waited for her to finish before hastily agreeing to her request. He didn’t need to. It didn’t take a legilimens to realise that he would drop everything on a whim to answer to her beck and call.

But that didn’t stop Ominis from choking on the piece of toast in his mouth. He couldn’t help the ungodly, strangled laugh that stumbled out of his mouth from how obscenely obvious his best friend was being right now.

“Oh!” She said, a little taken aback too. Her cheeks had grown slightly pink at Sebastian’s fervent, impassioned agreement, “W-well, lovely!”

Even Ominis couldn’t help but cringe a little at the second-hand embarrassment. He wondered how Sebastian seemed so unbothered by his own… forwardness.

But it must have suddenly dawned on him, because his face had begun to turn a comically bright shade of red. Consciously, Sebastian pulled at the knot of his tie, loosening it as he spoke hurriedly.

“I-I have nothing to do after all.”

Ominis felt the grip on his wand tighten. Not knowing whether the urge to burst out laughing or to disappear entirely was stronger.

“Great! I- I’ll see you tomorrow then. After class.”

“Great.”

“Well then… I’ll leave you boys to it,” She brushed the folds out of her skirt before she stood up, nodded farewell, and made her exit. As she spun around, the pleats of her robe followed suit in dramatic fashion.

As quickly as she’d arrived, she left again.

Sebastian watched as she went. His eyes followed closely, never once leaving her departing figure. Not until she disappeared entirely from the hall. When Sebastian finally looked back, any trace of the brooding boy from the morning was gone.

Chidingly, Ominis said, “Don’t you have crossed wands tomorrow afternoon?”

Silence.

“Oh. Right. That… slipped my mind.”

Ominis snorted. Under his breath, he muttered, “Just friends, my ass.”

—

Notes Cross-posting from ao3, I haven't written fanfiction in literally forever (or even been on tumblr in forever) but HL brought my 2016 self back to lifeeeee.

Anyways, I present to you Seb being a simp. Look out for more chapters of other people pointing out how obvious these two dummies are.

#sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Part 1

Dustin half-expects the phone to ring in the evening—that maybe Eddie will have said something to Steve about how he’s been a dick to him—but no such call ever comes.

So he pretends like he’s busy with homework, times heading to dinner carefully, so that his mom’s got her back to the stove when he limps over to his seat.

At night, he waits until he hears the click of her lamp going off, then manages to smuggle a bag of peas out of the freezer without being noticed. He wraps it up in a dish towel and places it on his ankle, under the bed covers.

He doesn’t sleep.

If the weather’s not bad, he usually rides his bike to school, but he pretends to oversleep and gets the bus instead.

The day drags, but it’s fine.

It’s fine until he decides to go to the bathroom during the tail end of last period—reasons that so long as the receptionist doesn’t catch him, he can head to the bus stop early afterwards.

He thinks he’s alone.

But then as he’s drying his hands, he hears a stall door open lightning fast, and he’s suddenly pinned up against the wall, so close that he can see Aaron’s nostrils flare.

“The thing is, Henderson,” he says, as if they’re just picking up from where they left off; he’s got that tone, Dustin thinks, that ‘good people of Hawkins’ tone. Hiding behind a mask of respectability. “Folks seem to think that the buck stopped with Munson, huh? But I know he would’ve passed his sick shit on.”

It takes a moment for the penny to drop.

“You think I’m leading Hellfire,” Dustin says. He almost laughs. A surge of adrenaline briefly overtakes the fear, and maybe he feels like he’s borrowed a little of Steve’s daring, a little of Eddie’s sharp tongue when he says, “Oh, you’re fucking stupid.”

It happens very quickly.

Cold metal pressed to his throat.

He freezes. Thinks of Sattler Quarry again, of a switchblade, a threat to cut his teeth out.

“They say he took Chrissy’s eyes first,” Aaron says. “Gouged them out.” He presses a little harder. “I could do the same to you.”

Dustin grits his teeth, tries to hold his breath. Feels the ridge of uneven grouting digging into his back.

The school bell shrieks.

And he’s falling.

He only just stops himself from hitting the ground, bangs his knee against a sink. Left alone, he coughs and coughs as the stampede of people leaving class rumbles on outside.

Saved by the bell, says a wry voice in his head. It sounds a bit like Eddie.

Eventually he manages to look in the mirror. There’s a line across his neck, almost touching his Adam’s apple; tiny beads of blood from where the knife was pushed hard against his skin. He cleans it up with paper towels, tries not to gag.

Steve had a mark like this, he thinks; he remembers seeing it when they first discovered the gate in Eddie’s trailer.

Steve never flinched.

His mom’s packing for a wedding out of town, which means he’ll be spending an ‘extra long weekend’ at Steve’s, Thursday through to Monday—something he’d ordinarily be looking forward to.

But right now he can only focus on hiding his neck. He keeps his coat zipped up when he enters his house, all casual, then changes into an old sweater that covers the mark if he folds the turtle neck just so.

As his mom triple checks her case, he relies on her distraction and steals an old tube of foundation.

He dabs it on his neck, wincing at the abrasion.

Another sleepless night.

Why is this so hard? After everything that’s happened, this is nothing.

It should be nothing.

He almost misses Eddie’s van completely, even though it’s parked obnoxiously at the very front of the parking lot. It takes Eddie honking the horn for an embarrassingly long time until Dustin notices him.

“Steve’s picking me up,” he mumbles.

“He took Robin’s shift, she’s sick. So you get me,” Eddie says, complete with the world’s most passive-aggressive jazz hands. “You know, if that’s okay with you and all.”

Dustin doesn’t have the energy to bite back—sure, Eddie’s snippy, whatever—so he just huffs in acknowledgement and gets in the van. His head aches with fatigue; he can barely even feel relief that the day passed without incident.

Lucas had passed him a piece of paper with a comical stick figure during History: ‘Are you okay? You look like your brain is melting through your ears.’ He didn’t even have time to enjoy the stupid drawing, because the teacher busted them for passing notes soon after.

“What’s up with you?”

Dustin starts at the question—only then realises that he’s been pressing his forehead hard against the window as Eddie makes a turning for Steve’s house.

“Nothing. What’s up with you?”

And it should land on just the right side of petty for Eddie to give him shit about it.

But instead, all he hears is the uneasy drumming of rings against a steering wheel, a soft, “Right, right.”

Eddie isn’t angry anymore; he’s worried. Guilt twists Dustin’s insides.

He heads straight upstairs for the bathroom when they reach Steve’s, uncaring of the fact that Eddie can probably see him limp up every step.

The problem is that he doesn’t think—he just does.

Throws off his coat. Turns on the faucet. Splashes cold water in his face.

It helps, but his eyes still itch. Maybe he can pull out the mountains of homework card again, camp out in the guest room and sleep until Steve—

A faint knock on the other side of the door.

“Hey, uh. Just checking you haven’t died, man.”

And Dustin hates that he’s made Eddie sound hesitant.

“Yeah, I’m so dead. Oooo.”

Eddie chuckles slightly. But then he says, “Listen, did I do something? Like, tell me to fuck off, if so.”

“Fuck off,” Dustin says, not convincing in the slightest.

In the silence, he can practically hear the cogs in Eddie’s brain turning.

“You didn’t run track.”

It’s not a question.

Dustin rubs at his eyes. “I got tripped.”

“…Tripped,” Eddie echoes. “Dustin. Come on.”

“Fine. I… got in a fight.”

“You?”

“What, is that hard to believe?” Dustin snaps.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is, actually.”

There’s something in Eddie’s tone that makes Dustin’s eyes threaten to burn. It sounds like I know you.

“Well, go on. Gimme the details. What, did you place bets in the cafeteria about who would—”

“No-one else saw,” Dustin says, then immediately cringes at the fact that he’s walked right into Eddie’s trap and given answers.

“Oh, well fucking done,” Eddie says, and maybe it’s meant to sound sharp, but Dustin can only hear how it’s tight with anxiety. “So someone started shit, and you decided, in your infinite wisdom, to settle it alone, when anything could’ve—”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do? Just let them keep saying—”

“You run,” Eddie says. “Jesus Christ, Henderson, I don’t give a flying fuck what they were saying. You run like hell out of there, and you don’t look back, do you fucking hear—”

“You didn’t run!” Dustin says.

He hadn’t planned on saying it at all; the words feel like they’ve been ripped out of him, his voice wrecked.

Silence.

The door opens. Eddie looks completely floored.

“Was this about me?” he asks very quietly.

Dustin looks away. “He—he just—you didn’t hear what he was saying. Eddie, it was. Bad.”

And I’ll never repeat it, he thinks. I’m never using that fucking awful word.

“Hey, what’s that on your…?”

Eddie’s eyes narrow, and Dustin realises too late that he’s staring at his neck.

“Are you wearing make-up?” Eddie says, faintly baffled, and Dustin sees the exact moment that he recognises the mark for what it is, because his eyes widen. “Oh, Jesus.”

Dustin uselessly tries to cover it up with his hand. “It’s—it’s fine, it didn’t even—”

But his words die away at the sight of Eddie’s rapidly paling face.

Stop it, Dustin almost wants to say. Between everything that Eddie and Steve have… this is nothing.

He doesn’t expect Eddie bursting into tears.

“Oh God,” Eddie’s saying, and his breathing’s all wrong, “Dustin, please, please don’t—” But it’s like the words are choking him, like he can only stare at Dustin’s neck as if the world is ending.

The front door opening. Steve’s voice echoing, calling out a questioning greeting.

“Hey? You in the kitchen?”

Dustin moves quickly, shoves past Eddie.

“Dustin,” Eddie says again, loud in his panic, “d-don’t go, come on—”

He knows precisely when Steve can hear the fact that Eddie is crying, because his footsteps are rapid on the stairs, speech just as quick and frantic, “What happened, what happened?”

Dustin briefly feels Steve’s hand close around his elbow, “Hey, hey, what’s—?”, but he wrenches himself free. Runs down the stairs as fast as he can, stumbles on the last step.

He feels his ankle give way, and his heart is suddenly pounding like he’s back in The Upside Down—and he lies there, guilt and embarrassment in every heaving breath he takes.

#dustin henderson fic #eddie and dustin #steve and dustin #henderfam #steddie with dustin’s pov #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #eddie munson #steve harrington #2 parts i said! like a fool! (this happens every time)#homophobia cw

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hanggarae · 8 months

Text

RUSSIAN ROULETTE — 러시안 룰렛

0.7k, mingyu x gn!dealer!reader, fluff, takes place in casino, shits on gamblers a little 😭 (i don’t have any thoughts on gamblers i just needed it for the plot)

“if i win this one you’ll go on a date with me right?” the handsome annoying man sitting across the poker table asked grinning while playing with a chip between his fingers.

you rolled your eyes, “for the hundredth time this week, mr kim, no” you told him plainly, focusing on the task at hand and continuing to shuffle the cards.

truth be told- you wanted to say yes. so badly. kim mingyu was handsome and naturally charismatic so you couldn’t really blame yourself for falling for him just a tiny bit.

but regardless of how handsome and charming he was, above all he was a gambler and you didn’t really trust them. considering your job you met them pretty often, and the types of people you’d met in here were some of the worst.

some had families and would throw away their income surrounded by women when they should’ve been home with their wives, should’ve even been taking her out on a date and many have told this to you when they downed their twelfth shot of the night.

that isn’t to say all gamblers are bad, you’ve met some really nice people here but unfortunately you haven’t had a good experience with the gamblers that come here daily for hours with no end.

mingyu could very well just be here for a good time, but that doesn’t necessarily guarantee he isn’t the same as the men you’ve grown to hate over the years working here.

“oh come on ynnn” he whined a little unfitting considering the company at the table, huge men with a permanent scowl set between their brows. “just say yes once and you won’t regret it i promise” he looked at you, eyes sparkling and puppy like.

you sighed deciding to ignore him and start the game instead, “please place your bets” you plastered a smile while addressing everyone playing at the table.

to no surprise, mingyu won. regardless of whether he was a genius or just stupidly lucky- he always won.

the rest of the men left their table, a few muttering ‘stupid kid’ angrily under their breath but mingyu paid them no mind, turning to you once again.

“ynnn” he said sing-songily. “what do you sayyy?”

“congratulations mr kim?” you stared at him blankly, internally cooing when his shoulders deflated a little.

mingyu groaned, face in his hands before perking up and looking at you with a newfound determination in his eyes. “let’s start the next one”

it took you a little off guard but you listened regardless, starting the game by asking everyone to place their bets again.

oddly enough, mingyu was losing. he was making ametuer moves and it was only leaving you confused. because of this, mingyu ended up losing the game- luckily he didn’t lose much money as he would make but it was still a loss.

“do you wanna go out with me?” he asked, catching you off guard.

“huh?”

“go out with me?”

you scoffed, “didn’t you ask me this like an hour ago?”

mingyu continued to keep his gaze on you, admiring your focus on your work and how fast your fingers worked to get everything set for the next game.

“yeah but.. i thought you’d agree if i asked you after i lost” he told you matter of factly as if it was the most obvious thing ever and was a normal conclusion to draw.

you stared at him confused before laughing out of pure disbelief. “you mean to tell me, that you just blew that much money- just because you thought it’d make me say yeah to going out with you”

if it was any other person they probably would’ve started looking a little sheepish, but mingyu stood his ground even deciding to look proud at his ‘amazing’ plan.

you bit your upper lip, making mingyu a little anxious awaiting your answer. “keep this for me” you winked before heading to deal at another table.

mingyu didn’t let his mood get too sour before he opened the folded note you gave him, your number on it and a ‘i finish at 11’ accompanying it. when he spotted you and caught your gaze, your heart gushed at the boyish grin set on his excited face.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x you #mingyu imagines #mingyu fluff

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

so we can all come to the general consensus that levi is a classy, boujie ass man. We all know he despises messes and making them even more. Everything must be spotless..

that is until it comes to fucking you..and then he becomes the nastiest man alive.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰──── ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.

themes: black !fem maid reader, dom levi (with hints of ocd) thigh riding, degradation (use of slut and whore) pet names (kitten, princess, sweetheart) spit kink, throat fucking, use of sir and daddy, mentions of anal sex and masturbation, there’s a lot of other stuff too. Minors, you’re not welcome.

📝: not sure of the word count but this is a little drabble because levi is on my mind heavy.

oh yes, (y/n), his gorgeous little housekeeper turned personal whore, who he fucks at will and abandons all of his neat freak tendencies for. The absolute vision of beauty strutting around his huge estate with those long legs, plump ass and perky breasts swaddled up in that cute uniform. A skirt about three inches too high…

just barely covering that backside. Enough for him to daydream about bending you over and breeding that pretty pussy as he worked away at his desk.

damn you and the urges you drummed out of him. It was so unbecoming of such an accomplished man. Having vivid wet dreams about his help like a prepubescent teen? It was embarrassing! But not shameful enough to stop him from enacting on said desires..calling you into his office and answering with quite the request when you so sweetly asked:

“Is there something I can do for you, sir?”

and indeed it was. Waving you over with a finger, the normally stoic stock broker, who had amassed millions from his trade, requested for you to join him as he looked over some paperwork. It was no secret, at least to you how Mr. Ackerman felt;

all but obvious when you caught him one night in his study, stroking his cock and moaning your name..loud enough for you to hear him from the other side of the door. It was so fucking hot! This multi-millionaire, busting a nut at the sheer thought of you.

god, he must’ve sounded so pathetic but he could care less. He was sexually frustrated…having been long time single and not looking in the slightest. Granted, he could pay for it if that’s what he chose but purchasing pussy wasn’t really his style. Especially when he had it in house.

being the dutiful and diligent employee that you were, you’d gladly come and assist. How so? By letting him use your slutty mouth as a flesh light and draining his cum down your throat. It was such a mess; that warm nut splattering his bare thighs and your exposed tits. Mixed fluids all over the carpet and chair…but you’d be happy to lap it up.

if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn he saw heaven that night. So naturally, it couldn’t stop there. When the other staff were away, you two would play: having the nastiest, most disgusting sex ever. Complete polar opposite of his public image.

just like that very moment: when you’d obey and come sit atop his lap. That ass brushing his crotch and your clothed cunt slowly straddling his thigh like a helpless puppy. As busy as he was, he needed a distraction..only the kind you could provide. “Kitten, I’m just feeling so fucking tense right now. Work’s got me stressed. ‘Think you can help me out?”

uttering that precious pet name he had adorned you with. And like always, you’d fulfill his wishes with bells on. Once you had worked yourself into an aroused frenzy; dripping through his black slacks and wetting his skin. Practically whimpering when he hoisted your shirt and began groping those beautiful breasts.

even deciding to shove a hand in those panties and press against that swollen pearl..tracing tiny circles and massaging it.

“Y—yes. Whatever you want, sir!” And what Levi craved more than anything was to put you atop that desk, fold your legs behind your head and pump you full of dick until you came everywhere. So fast forward and that’s exactly what came to fruition..

papers and whatnots shoved to the floor, pushed to the wayside and your body was the only thing that remained. Rocking back and forth as he stuffed that sweet spot, stretching it open. “G-ahhh. That’s it, just take this dick, sweetheart…your only job right now, it’s what you’re best at. I don’t even need you to think..” Not to say you didn’t do exceptional work at the other duties but something about the way you tightened around that cock was something special.

gripping at the sides as he jolted you around, making you toss your head back and release a yelp when he so casually decided to shove his all of those thick inches into the deepest part of your throbbing heat..even pressing down when he started bulging and touching your cervix with his tip.

“Hhhngh! It feels so good, sir. Oh shit!”

“You’re making such a mess on me, kitten. Surely you’re going to clean this up, right?” referring to the milky puddle of cream spilling from your little hole, onto his shaft and the mahogany wood underneath you. Mocking the fact that you couldn’t help your body’s reaction..it was all but inevitable to nut all over his dick when he fucked you this good.

but it’s when you don’t answer his question fast enough, because you’re too busy screaming that he snatches (y/n) up by the center of those beautiful curls and forces your head up; making you meet his gaze. Oh, he turns into such an unhinged feign when he’s inside of you. Unable to control himself and ends up pounding your pussy like a brutish animal…so damn hot.

that’s when Levi shoves three of his perfectly groomed digits into your mouth and begins finger fucking your jaws, turning you to a drooling mess..that dumb, slutty expression on your face making him lose it. The trail of saliva trickling down your chin and chest filling his mind with all types of filthy, perverted ideas. “You answer me when I speak, slut. I hate being ignored..”

it’s then that he reluctantly pulls out and goes to the front to fuck that throat. But not without drumming out some of your squirt with him and letting it splatter his barely buttoned white dress shirt. You’re getting your fluids all over him and his workspace…it’s so disgusting, so nasty…and exactly what he wanted!

“I’m sorry, sir..I just—“

but your excuses are of no consolation to him. And instead, he fills your mouth with his dripping erect. Immediately pumping it between those pretty, plump lips of yours. But not without lubricating the inside with his own trail of saliva.

he’s so conflicted…on one hand, he hates the idea that his office is now in disarray. He’s the type that needs to maintain a spotless environment at all times..on the other? Watching you taste the sweet remnants of yourself as he sloppily throat fucks his little slut; strings of saliva bubbling and dangling all over the place. Not to mention the way your nimble fingers toy with that clit because you’re just feigning to feel him inside of you again…

it was the most divine thing ever and he didn’t give a fuck how filthy things got..it was a mess well worth it! “Oh fuck, kitten…I swear you bring out the worst in me. I know it’s not right but I just want to keep pounding this throat until you suck me dry..I want to do all the nastiest things with you, babe. Daddy just wants to give you all of his nut..in here, in that beautiful pussy..”

mindlessly rambling as he tosses his back onto his shoulders, trying to regain a semblance of self restraint. The ever so poised Levi Ackerman has never spoke so vulgar and vile words to anyone but it’s something about you. He’s gently stroking your cheek as you gaze up at him with those big doe brown eyes and fluttering lashes, suckling on his tip like a piece of candy. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll train that cute little ass next. How’s that sound?”

earning him a fateful nod. “That’s my good girl..always doing whatever the fuck I tell you. Exactly why you get whatever you want from me..” his cock twitches once more when you squirt all over those fingers and display the dripping mess mid air. Feeling the vibrations of your moans around his base.

raking a hand through his hair, he proceeds..sucking his teeth and trying to maintain his composure but it’s fading fast. In all honestly, he’s losing his goddamn mind. Like a feral creature in fucking heat, Levi just keeps thrusting upward, getting faster until sweat begins to head around his forehead. As with the rest of his sheen slicked body. He can’t believe that you’ve both been going this hard. Losing track of how many times he’s watched you climax now but it was damn sure time to add his own to the mix.

those heavy, full balls colliding with your hairline were just begging to be emptied and of course, with the assistance of those warm jaws, you were bound to taste his cum in a matter of minutes, if that. Releasing one of those heavy, loud grunts, the normally less than vocal businessman coiled his thumbs around your throat and palms to the back of your neck and fucked your skull with all he had. You could see how desperate and deranged he was..

“C’mon, princess. Swallow this nut for me, okay? Suck this cum out of me like I know you can. Just drain me already..fuuuck.”

never having seen him so vulnerable like this. All of it: the language, the filthy dialogue between you two and the disgusting mess of bodily fluids..it’s all your doing. Only you could drum up such a scene from him. But none of that matters now, and with your tongue scaling the underside of his shaft, you grant his wish sooner rather than later.

with one final twitch, breath catching in his windpipe..Levi releases an extremely loud groan as well as those sought after strings of semen. Pouring every last drop of his warm liquid into the back of your welcoming throat. “Ohhhh, fuck! Take it..take it all from me, baby..” Bubbles and escaping droplets are pooling down the sides of your face and after a full minute of pumping, he finally pulls his sensitive, overly stimulated cock out of your mouth. The tip is practically glowing red, emitting all types of mixed fluids from it.

at that moment, he’s so delirious and spent but feeling prideful all the same. You’ve just swallowed every drop of his cum as if it were nothing..a sign that he had trained his little whore very well. “C’mere..” When you finally come to, you’re greeted with a peck to the forehead, followed by a deep, sloppy kiss from your boss and lover. He has no shame shoving his tongue inside of your mouth after just getting the nastiest head possible.

“You did great, kitten..thank you for clearing my head up. I needed that…” making you grin from ear to ear, your cheeks burning and face twisted into a smile. That white and clear liquid painted all over that beautiful brown complexion like a canvas and undoubtedly, you were his work of art.

chuckling, you’d find the strength to make it onto all fours, teasing that ass in the air; subtly twerking. You were really something when you got going. “It’s my pleasure, sir. Always..” muttering so sweetly as you leaned down, akin to the pet he had been calling you, and lap up your own puddle of juices; gliding that tongue pad across the surface before glaring back up at him..who was already hard as rock once again and in awe of how utterly slutty you got for him..and decided that one round wasn’t going to suffice!

“…matter of fact, let’s just take the rest of the day off. I think we could use a little more time together.”

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harrysdaydream-tpwk · 9 months

Text

part 1 - how you meet

summary: part one, harry and y/n meet for the first time. it isn’t smooth sailing, but shes intrigued.

warnings: none

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Fuck, shit!”, you swore, hitting the espresso maker, once and then again, when the only thing it did was to spew more steam at you, fogging up your glasses.

“You alright?”, one of your coworkers asked and you nodded, though defeated.

“You think you can take over preparing the drinks for me, while I’ll handle the register? If I have to fight this machine one more time, something will be broken and it will either be my hand or the coffeemaker.” You looked at him desperately, your hands folded together in a silent plea.

“Alright, alright”, he laughed, “Don’t want to call an ambulance because you couldn’t control your anger. At least I won’t have to deal with asshole customers anymore.” He passed you and you blew him a bunch of exaggerated kisses before sliding right behind the cash register, slightly more motivated to finish the rest of your shift than before.

It was unusually quiet for Friday afternoon, normally all of the tables would’ve been taken- from desperate college students trying to finish their essays to single mothers, hoping to rekindle their failed love life. Although the job was a pain in your ass and barely covered all the bills and loans you had to pay off, it always had something to offer for your personal entertainment.

But now, as you waited for something to happen, other than the few fifteen years olds throwing straws at each other in the corner booth, you felt terribly bored. Your elbows quickly found their way to the counter and you put your chin in your waiting hands, blowing a strand of hair out of your face.

The nameless indie music idling out of the speakers above your head lulled you in a state of trance as you stared at the passer-by’s outside of the store, the big glass front not sparing you any detail. Even your coworker, who was the only employee inside the store besides you, had sat down on a few cases of soda stacked together, blasting TikTok and its annoying sounds throughout the whole store, but in this moment you couldn’t care less.

Then, suddenly, you were ripped out of your daydreaming by the bell ringing above the door and you stood up fast, startling not only the newcomers, but yourself as well.

“Hey, welcome in. Is there anything I can get started for you?”, you asked, peering at the three men, who just stared for a moment, as if assessing the situation. Weird.

The place you worked at was in a small side street, away from the bigger crowds, with quirky names for almost all of the things you had on your menu, so you gave your new customers a second to understand and choose something from your assortment.

Before you could turn away and pretend to be busy, one of them spoke up, though quietly, you could barely hear him.

“Hi. Sorry, we didn’t expect such an enthusiastic greeting. Is there anything you would recommend?” His voice was deep and gentle and you couldn’t help but admit that he looked exactly like the kind of man you would usually go for.

“I don’t know”, you reply, your voice now back to its usual octave and enthusiasm- or rather the lack thereof, “I usually just get the Iced Caramel Macchiato.”

To this day, you still refused to read any of the actual names of the drinks out loud.

“I’ll take that one then”, the man said, smiling at you. You nod as you type his order into your register.

“Anything else?”, you asked, smiling your “customer service smile” as your friends jokingly called it and the other two men nodded, replying with their orders.

“Alright, will that be to-go or are you staying in?” You waited for a second while they looked at each other and thought to yourself “That question couldn’t have been that hard”.

Finally, the guy with the long, brown hair mumbled “To go, please.”

“Okay then, swipe your card whenever you’re ready. And I need a name to call when your coffee is done.”

“Harry”, the guy who spoke to you first replied and stepped forward, pressing his card on the card reader. You nodded satisfied.

You turned around briefly, to check if you coworker, Charlie, got the order. Pleased that he was already on it, you directed your gaze back to the front of the store. Startled, you reeled back. Harry, who was the only one still standing in front of the counter, was starting at you intently. The other two had fallen back, standing near the door, as if they were waiting- no rather watching out for something- or someone.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?”, you inquired, observing how his shoulders rode up defensively. He was wearing a long, blue jacket, a hat and sunglasses and if you were honest, his outfit looked absolutely ridiculous. Paired with the black nike shorts, he looked a bit mismatched, like he was unsure whether it was warm out or not. You could’ve easily answered that question, seeing as you had been sweating profusely since you left your studio apartment this morning.

You were sure you looked disgusting, your uniform clinging uncomfortably to the body parts you most certainly didn’t want them to stick to, mascara probably smudged from the humidity from the steam that had been blowing in your face earlier.

How he managed to still look fresh, even with the thick jacket on was an absolute mystery to you.

“No, no, sorry. I like your button”, he answered, referring to the grumpy cat pin your mother had gifted you a while ago. It was ridiculous and cheesy, but it reminded you of home, so you wore it anytime you felt even slightly homesick. You debated telling him as much, but you weren’t up for much of a conversation, so you settled on a polite “Thank you.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Order for Harry?”, Charlie called and the man looked around, rather paranoid, as if he was scared someone was going to jump up from behind the counter any second.

“That’s me”, he said, still shyly smiling at you before turning towards the pick-up station.

“Have a nice day”, you called out sarcastically behind him and he waved, walking out the door, his company joining soon after.

You exhaled deeply and turned towards Charlie again, who suddenly squealed loudly. “Oh my God, what?”, you said, clutching your hand over your chest.

“Do you know who that was?”, he asked, excitedly, “Harry fucking Styles. And I think he liked you with all that staring he did.”

“No, it wasn’t. Was it?”, you asked disbelievingly. He nodded, “Oh, yeah. It was him. I’d recognize him anywhere. I think he’s actually having a show in town tonight.”

“But why would he come in here out of all places? I mean, we’re far away from anything slightly entertaining or fun.” You looked at Charlie quizzically.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “Maybe that’s exactly the point. What are the odds of getting recognized by hoards of fans in a small shop like this?”

“I guess so.”

You grabbed a wet cloth from the sink, starting to wipe down the counter, not able to shake the fact that superstar Harry Styles just walked into your workplace, however annoyed you might’ve been at that moment, it had felt oddly right and somehow meaningful. You touched the pin on your apron carefully, smiling at the chipped feeling of the plastic fading at the edges.

Two days later, the incident- which was how Charlie kept calling it, was nothing but a fun story you could tell your friends and something to be teased about by your coworkers. Yes, you had been kind of rude to him, maybe you could’ve been a bit nicer. Treat People with Kindness or whatever he always preached. But it was in the past now. It wasn’t like you would ever see him again.

At least that’s what you told the part of yourself that kept insisting that maybe he would return- the nagging voice that believed Charlie, who kept shooting you meaningful glances whenever one of Harry’s songs played on the radio.

You were in a middle of a lunch rush, the small room of the shop packed with people, when your wishful thinking suddenly became reality. Right in the middle, as if the crowd had split in two, he appeared. Or maybe he had just entered through the door like everyone else did and patiently waited in line. You couldn’t be sure.

“Harry, hi”, you greeted sincerely, when he approached the counter, “What brings you back?” You smiled ruefully, thinking about your last interaction.

“Hi. Slightly better mood today, huh?” So he had picked up on it last time. Your eyes travelled down his body quickly- you couldn’t help it, sue you. He was wearing a white button down this time, messily tucked in a light washed pair of denim shorts- although he managed to make it look stylish- and no sunglasses. His hair was hidden by a yellow crochet bucket hat. Cute.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know who you were and I wasn’t having a good day. What can I do for you today?”, you apologized.

“I think everyone deserves kindness, even if they weren’t popular. But it’s alright, can’t always be nice, especially in customer service. I get it, worked in a bakery for some time back at home.” He took his own shtick quite seriously you noted, but smiled politely.

“I would love to talk to you some more, but the place is packed right now. Is there anything I can get for you?”, you tried again.

“Yeah, yeah”, he chuckled, “I’ll get the Iced Caramel Macchiato again, it was really good the last time and also-“, he paused for a second, looking at your display of pastries, “One of the vegan carrot cakes, please.”

“Sure, anything else?”

“No, that’s all, thank you.”

You finish the transaction and say goodbye before tending to the next customer, a middle aged woman raising her eyebrows impatiently at you.

The rest of your shift goes by smoothly, with only a few minor incidents disrupting your flow. It all felt to good to be true, your interaction with Harry still in the back of your mind. The conversation had left you unsatisfied, craving more.

You didn’t know much about him, besides that he was Harry Styles and apparently currently on tour. He shared something with you and you couldn’t help but wonder if there would’ve been more if you had just let him talk. That’s what you reprimanded yourself for as you took of your apron and the shirt you wore for work in the locker rooms, pulling on a black hoodie with a nonsensical print on the front.

“I’ll see you tomorrow”, you yelled in the general direction of the store as you leave through the back door, a cigarette already waiting to be lit in your right hand. It was a bad habit and you were desperate to stop smoking- but on days like this it was the only thing keeping you sane.

“Hey”, a voice suddenly called and you shot up surprised, the cig almost falling out of your mouth. You took a quick drag before lowering it. Turning around, you spotted Harry of all people leaning against the wall of the back of your shop.

“Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?”, you asked disbelievingly, clutching your chest dramatically.

“Sorry, one of your coworkers told me what time you get off. They also told me your name”, he explained, peering at you with his green eyes. Fuck, why did he have to be so handsome?

“Stalker-much?”, you couldn’t help but ask, only half joking. You brought your cigarette up to your lips again, inhaling deeply, before blowing out the smoke through your nose- welcoming the rush the nicotine gave you.

“I just wanted the chance to have a conversation with you, Y/N”, he said, rolling his eyes, but smiling at the same time. It was weird hearing your name out of his mouth.

“Why?” He shrugged helplessly, observing you smoke for a second before answering.

“Fuck if I know. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, even on stage, and my friends kept teasing me. I’m in town until tomorrow, then I’m off to Cardiff.”

“Yeah, I get it. My coworker Charlie kept wagging his eyebrows at me everytime he saw someone wearing your merch. He was the one preparing the drinks for you.” You hoisted up your tote bag, which kept slipping of your shoulder.

Harry chuckled. “He did a pretty good job if I do say so myself. The Macchiato was really good. Cashier had some perks too though.”

“He’ll pass out if I tell him what you just said. But tell me more about this cashier. Were they cute?”, you flirted back, a smirk on your face.

“Oh, very. I was hoping it’d get her number by chance”, he tried as you threw the butt of your cigarette on the pavement, stomping it out with your checkered Vans.

“Well, you’re in luck. It’s not everyday an international pop-star asks me for my cell. Can’t resist your charm”, you said quietly. His shoulders dropped slightly, as if remembering his position in the world, but he caught himself.

Harry hands you his phone and says, “Just type it in yourself. It’s always easier this way.”

You nodded, taking his phone with clammy hands. What a weird, surreal world you were suddenly thrown into. The fact that he trusted you enough to just pass you his phone. The fact that he was standing opposite you, watching you, being interested in you. You wondered if this was all a dream you’d suddenly be woken up from.

But no one did. This was reality, you realized as you pressed the cellphone back into his waiting hand, brushing it with the movement. You looked at each other for a moment.

“The cute girl from the coffee place? Really?”, he asked and you giggled. Honest to God giggled. What has your life become?

Harry pocketed his phone, letting his hands hang loosely at his sides. “Well”, he cleared his throat, “I have to go. Rehearsals and all that. I’m already too late. I’ll text you?” He looked at you hopefully.

“Sure”, you answered, smiling softly, “I’ll be waiting.” You step closer, standing on your tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek- a barely there brush of lips, but he still blushed.

“I’ll see you around, H.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

well, this marks the first part of my first ever series on this account. i’m actually so excited to see what people think. don’t forget to leave a like& follow for more<3 stay tuned!

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