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aemondsbabe · 6 months

Text

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟

“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.”

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page.

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces.

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more.

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another.

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering.

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board.

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips.

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging.

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned.

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again.

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead.

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat.

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks.

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them.

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?”

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade.

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner.

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.”

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder.

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men.

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers.

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses.

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.”

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter.

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware.

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.”

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him.

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy.

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering.

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck.

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain.

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves.

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck.

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder.

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt.

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach.

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.”

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister.

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase.

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail.

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place.

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush.

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice.

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window.

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.”

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute.

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?”

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act.

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?”

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth.

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem.

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook.

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?”

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?”

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low.

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket.

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.”

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request.

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you.

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.”

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?”

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

“Do you?”

“Fine, yes.”

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables.

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes.

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone.

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together.

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles.

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?”

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing.

“You.” It comes out as a breath.

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark.

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.”

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.”

“None?”

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.”

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck.

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair.

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his.

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.”

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger.

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands.

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling.

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine.

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.”

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading.

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump.

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly.

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk.

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.”

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric.

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip.

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath.

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat.

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you.

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand.

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need.

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit.

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?”

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl.

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table.

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally.

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses.

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric,

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child.

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you.

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud.

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit.

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers.

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open.

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment.

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?”

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance.

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length.

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.”

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down.

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.”

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock.

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?”

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock.

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately.

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release.

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release.

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair.

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin.

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things.

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.”

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down.

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat.

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air.

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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neonghostlights · 8 months

Text

Fuckboy!werewolf!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Based off my little drabble here.

Warnings: Eddie gets called a man-whore (not by reader), mates, cussing, mention of almost hitting an animal with your car (doesn't happen but almost does), parental and grandparent death (readers whole family is dead) 18+ only, minors dni

Wordcount: 3.9k

Series masterlist

Hawkins was fucking weird.

You should have taken the hint when you stopped by the lone gas station about an hour before reaching the town and asked the clerk for directions to make sure you were going the right way. He laughed at you like you were joking as soon as the question left your mouth. When he eventually figured out by your blank faced expression that you were indeed dead serious about trying to get to Hawkins, he gave the directions you needed with a quick “good luck with that.”

You’d be lying if you said his words didn’t make you second guess this move. But now that you had arrived at your destination and mostly settled into your small home at the edge of the town, it just seemed like a normal place. It was a small town with everyone seeming to already know everybody, leaving you the odd man out. Everyone that you had come across so far was mostly kind to you and welcoming considering the circumstances.

Your aunt used to own the home you had now taken residence in. She passed suddenly, leaving you as the only living descendant to inherit her things. You almost sold it off, but for some reason the town of Hawkins called to you, making you think that maybe it was meant to be. Before you knew it you were packing up your things, quitting your job at a grocery store, and making the sudden and long drive.

Your new home was a double wide trailer that sat on a secluded piece of land. Your aunt seemed to really like her privacy. There were no other homes for miles. The trees and forest surrounding your expansive yard gave you enough privacy to walk outside naked if you wanted to with no worries of anyone ever seeing you.

You had never met your aunt before. You had been raised solely by your grandparents since your mother passed and your father wasn’t ever in the picture.

You knew your aunt suddenly left their home young, leaving your mother and grandparents behind, and never looked back. But you never knew the details behind it. You always thought it was odd when you were younger since you thought your grandparents and mom were the best people ever. But now as an adult you could see how some people needed independence.

Even if that independence was a secluded house in a small town that literally no one else has ever heard of.

You stared out the car window at the rain that started last night and never let up. Your windshield wipers squeaked furiously as they rushed back and forth on the highest setting. You were already parked in your work parking lot, preparing yourself for the run you were going to have to make into the building.

Water sloshed up the legs of your jeans as your rain boots splashed through every puddle that you couldn’t seem to avoid. You were drenched by the time you made it to the door. The bell on the handle dinged at your arrival and you wiped your boots against the mat furiously even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“Hey!” Jessie called as she peeked her head around a shelf.

You waved in response and made your way behind the counter and threw your bags underneath of it. You had been working at Bee’s Books for a month now and you liked it so far. You were hired on the spot when you came in asking for a job application, the owner was impressed by you and desperate enough to practically throw the job at you.

It was a large store, surprising for the size town it resided in. You fell for the charm of it and the employee discount you got on all of your book purchases.

“I thought Tina was working with us today too?” You asked as you snapped your name badge in place over your sweater.

“She is,” Jessie said as she dropped the stack of books onto the counter. “She’s in the back doing something. You wanna put these up for me in the fantasy section while I put these in young adult?”

You nodded, picking up the stack of books and making your way to their designated section. The stack was thick and heavy, already making your arm ache only seconds after picking them up. You set your chin on top of it to better hold it in place as you walked through the rows of shelves.

Jessie and Tina were nice and all, but you had a feeling Jessie liked to dictate jobs at you that she didn’t feel like doing. You already guessed that she would probably be up at the counter giggling with Tina instead of putting away the other stack of books like she said she would.

It was hard being new in a town where the people all grew up together. You felt like an outsider, like everyone was being nice to your face and then whispering behind your back as you walked past. You wondered if part of that was because your aunt was eccentric.

You slowly shoved the books into their designated spots on the shelf, not rushing to get back up to the front. If you were honest, you would live in a book store if you could. When you were young your mom used to bring you to the library that was down the street from your grandparents house every saturday. You would both spend hours flipping through the fantasy section with not a care in the world.

After she died, those visits to the library became more lonely but you still did it because you enjoyed it so much.

You heard the bell ding from the front door and the chatter between the two girls up front stop suddenly.

The hair on the back of your neck started to rise and a chill broke out on your arms.

You blamed your clothes still wet from the rain. You rolled your shoulders back, trying to calm your sudden chill before reaching for another book from the stack cradled in your left arm.

You could hear the sound of wet sneakers against the carpeted floors approaching, along with the sound of enthusiastic chattering. You couldn’t hear Tina and Jessie up front anymore and you assumed it was because they were off helping customers.

The sound of whoever was approaching got closer and you turned and faced the shelf again, hoping they wouldn’t need anything from you. You weren’t the best at the customer interaction side of this job and would rather hide behind the shelves than talk to someone.

You heard the sound of the walking stop but the chattering of a younger voice kept going in a one sided conversation.

You glanced up, offering a polite smile. A teenager stood there, looking no older than fifteen. He had curly hair with a round face and dimples. He spoke enthusiastically to the person standing beside him, not caring that he was being ignored.

You looked over to the person he was with to see his eyes were already on you. He had long brown hair and dark eyes that reminded you of melted chocolate. His skin was pale but you could just barely make out the light dusting of freckles across his nose if you focused as hard as you were right now.

He dressed in all black, from his leather jacket to his shirt, jeans and thick boots. His hands were decorated with chunky metal rings that reminded you of costume jewelry. He let out a woosh of air from his lungs as he reached out to the wooden shelf beside him. The rings thudded against the wood as he grasped it so tightly that you thought it might splinter. He wobbled slightly, almost as if he was drunk.

His full lips were slightly parted as he kept staring at you.

You wished you could set down the stack of books somewhere so you could rub your arms in an attempt to fight the goosebumps plaguing up and down your skin.

The boy beside him stopped talking, looking up at his friend with confusion.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?” The boy asked with concern, nudging his friend's arm.

Eddie, which was apparently his name, didn’t react to his friend's touch. He continued staring at you with a look you couldn’t decipher and it made the goosebumps spread across your skin with a vengeance.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, wondering if you should yell for Tina or Jessie to call an ambulance.

He blinked a few times at the sound of your voice, seeming to have been pulled from whatever trance he was in.

His friend tugged on his arm. “Eddie?”

He pried his eyes away from yours to look at his boy. He released his tight grip on the shelf and you realized his full body was trembling. You wondered if he was cold too.

He didn’t say anything as he quickly turned and rushed away from you, leaving his friend behind.

The boy let out a small, “oh.” as he stared at you with a wide eyed look. The look of shock didn’t last long before his open mouth spread into a smug looking wide smile. His face changing from shock to joy in a heartbeat.

“Sorry about that,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

He backed away slowly, still with a smile on his face while you stared at him in confusion.

“It was very nice to meet you. I’m Dustin,” he said before turning around and running in the same direction as Eddie.

You blinked a few times, trying to process what the hell just happened. Your eyes met with Tina’s who was peeking around the shelf with an annoyed look on her face. She rolled her eyes and made her way back to the front.

“What the hell?” you said out loud, talking to only the books. Confused on what had just happened in the past few minutes.

You put the rest of the books away, heading to the front of the store to see if Tina and Jessie needed help with anything.

They were huddled beside each other at the counter, leaned close and whispering frantically in hushed tones. Tina’s hands were waving in the air. You wondered what had happened to piss her off.

They didn’t look up until you were behind the counter and grabbing more books to put away. You noticed them sharing a look with eachother out of the corner of your eyes before Jessie turned towards you.

“Hey. What did Eddie Munson say to you back there?” Jessie asked, her voice going higher in false politeness. It reminded you of the customer service tone she used when a customer was asking too many questions or messing up a perfectly designed display.

“Uh, nothing?” You shrugged while stacking the books onto the cart. There was no way you were carrying all of these this time.

“Well, it looked like something happened,” Tina snapped, not bothering to be nice at all.

You looked up at her in confusion. Jessie and Tina had never acted like this towards you before. Tina’s eyes were red and watery, like she was on the verge of crying and it made you feel bad.

“Nothing happened. He didn’t even say anything to me. He just stared at me for a second and then walked away,” you offered, hoping this would make things normal again so you could just do your job and then go home.

Jessie rubbed a soothing hand up and down Tina’s back.

“See. I told you,” she cooed, trying to make her friend feel better.

You set down the book you were holding.

“I’m confused,” you admitted. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Jessie offered with a small smile, still rubbing Tina’s back as she placed her head in her hands. “Eddie Munson is just a jerk is all.”

“Oh. Yeah. He did seem kind of rude,” you admitted, not really caring for this conversation much at all.

Tina snapped her head up and stared at you with narrow eyes.

“I thought you said he didn’t say anything to you,” she wailed.

Jessie shot you a look, silently telling you to shut up.

“He didn’t!” You exclaimed, feeling the need to defend yourself. “He just stood there and walked away!”

Tina nodded, wiping underneath her eyes with the tissue Jessie handed her.

“What’s the big deal about him anyways?” You questioned, needing to know the story behind this to ease your own curiosity.

“He’s a man-whore. He makes girls feel special and then just dumps them after he gets what he wants. If you’ve talked to any girl in this town then he’s slept with them,” Jessie said, sounding like she was telling a story about the boogeyman and not just some guy that wears a lot of black and stares at people in weird ways.

You wanted to ask Jessie if she was included on the list of girls Eddie Munson had fucked over but you wanted peace for the rest of the day.

You couldn’t help the sudden feeling of disappointment that settled into your gut at the information you had learned. It wasn’t like you knew him since he literally didn’t say at word to you and the whole interaction was weird but for some reason your brain had told you that he was harmless. Your chest felt strange, like the feeling of seeing your crush holding someone else's hand. Which was weird, because although Eddie Munson was beautiful you had only seen him for a few seconds. Surely not long enough to form any attachment.

He was a stranger.

“I’m sorry, Tina.He sounds like a real asshole,” you said wholeheartedly. You meant it. It seemed like Eddie Munson had truly broken the poor girl's heart.

What an asshole.

Tina sniffled, nodding in agreement.

“So, if I were you I’d stay far away from him,” Jessie warned, sounding more like a threat.

“Trust me,” you sighed, “I am definitely not interested.”

You grabbed the handles on the cart, pulling it away from the awkward conversation. Tina and Jessie started whispering again as soon as you walked away.

The rain was pouring harder than it was earlier.

You were contemplating making a run for it to get to the dry safety of your car but you couldn’t bring yourself to move from under the awning that hung over the store's front door.

It was dark out now, night time coming in behind the gloomy rain clouds. The lights of the parking lot could only illuminate so much with the heavy gushes of rain coming down.

Jessie came out of the door behind you, jumping slightly as she noticed you.

You smiled awkwardly, the air still feeling weird from earlier.

Jessie and Tina had kept to themselves for the rest of the day. You didn’t mind, enjoying the solitude of stacking books on your own or taking inventory.

Tina had already gone home, running to her car as soon as she finished her last task. She got lucky with there being a break in the rain when she left. You wished you had hurried out at the same time as her.

Jessie stuck around though to finish counting the register, saying that she had a family member coming to pick her up so she wouldn’t have to drive in the weather. She had even asked your boss if her car would be okay in the parking lot overnight.

“Why are you still here?” She asked as she came up beside you.

“Not ready to go through the rain. Hoping it’ll lighten up soon,” you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself tighter.

Jessie nodded, looking out at the parking lot and the street before it expectantly.

About fifteen minutes pass by with you both standing in silence. Water dripped from the awning and splashed at your feet rhythmically. Neither of you said anything about it or made any attempt to move.

The rain hitting the pond that used to be the parking lot was the only sound to be heard.

You wanted to leave so bad. You just wanted to say screw it and sprint for your car to brave the drive home. But you didn’t feel right leaving Jessie here by herself in the bad weather and darkness.

“Do you want me to drive you home so you don’t have to wait any later?” You asked, checking your watch to see how far it had passed since closing time.

You just wished the rain would lighten up now so you could just leave and go curl up in your bed with one of your new books.

Jessie shook her head, face falling as each car passed the parking lot without turning in.

The rain finally lightened to a drizzle and you groaned in relief. You stepped out from under the awning, turning back to check on Jessie.

She stepped out from under the awning too, following you to where your cars were parked.

“Guess he isn’t coming. Asshole,” you heard her mutter before she climbed into her car and pulled away.

The rain finally stopped the next day.

You woke up bright and early on your day off, much earlier than you really wanted to be up.

You dressed for the day, needing to run some of your aunt's things to the storage unit in town.

When you had moved in, there was an abundance of stuff everywhere. After living here for a month, you had managed to pack it all into boxes and take it to the storage unit until you could find the time to go through it and decide what you wanted to keep or donate.

You had a feeling you would end up donating it all like you did with your grandparents things, except the sentimental stuff of course.

Your aunt liked to collect figurines and paintings of the woods and wildlife. You thought it was odd, since she quite literally lived in a home that was surrounded by woods and all she had to do if she missed it was just look outside.

The paintings were of various animals, a few bears, a duck or two but the largest painting she had was of a large gray wolf.

The painting was massive and in a thick dark wood frame that matched the wooden paneling on the walls. It took up most of the living room just behind the couch, positioned in a way where you would have no choice but to make eye contact with it as soon as you walked in the door.

You took it down the day you moved in. The yellow eyes painted onto the beast seemed to follow you with every step you took in the trailer.

So you were getting rid of it.

It had spent its time since you moved in with it propped against the wall with a sheet draped over it. You decided today was the day to finally drag it out to your car and pray that it fit into the backseat.

You propped the front door and screen door open with the heaviest boot you had and grabbed the painting to drag it outside.

You got it halfway through the door when something on your front porch had you pausing.

At your feet, on the wooden planks that made up the porch were large muddy paw prints. Whatever animal it had come from was massive. The prints were larger than your own hand, making your shiver a the realization that whatever it was came right to your front door when you were blissfully unaware in your bed.

Despite the sun shining, you now had an ominous feeling in your spine.

You quickly pushed the painting back inside, letting the doors fall shut behind you..

You’d take the painting tomorrow instead.

You got off work again when it was dark.

Thankfully there was no rain this time.

You were able to scrub the paw prints off your porch and take the painting to the storage unit this morning before work.

After discovering the muddy prints at your doorstep the day before, you locked yourself in your house and rethought your move to Hawkins.

You had spent all last night tossing and turning in your bed in fear of what could be lurking outside. You had probably gotten up and checked the lock on the front door at least five times before finally dozing off into a restless sleep.

But you had made it through the night and when you checked outside this morning only the old paw prints remained with no new signs of your visitor.

You turned down the curvy road to head to your side of town.

Today had gone back to normal with Tina and Jessie back to their normal selves with no talk of the guy that had broken Tina’s heart.

Now that you were farther from the center of town, there were more trees and less houses. You were the only car on the road, the last headlights you had seen were a few miles back.

You were so close to your home when you saw something large run through the road.

You slammed on your brakes, the tires locking up and squealing as the car skidded and stopped with a jerk.

Your heart raced as you tried to calm down. Your eyes scanned the road, looking for whatever it was that was just there.

You slammed your hand on the off button on your radio, silencing The Rolling Stones abruptly.

Through the flickering headlights, you could make out something standing on the left side of the road. It slowly stalked into view until you were leaning back in your seat, frozen from fear.

It was the biggest damn wolf you had ever seen in your life. And it was standing right infront of your car, staring straight into your eyes.

It was hard to see in the poor lighting, but its coat was somewhere between a midnight black and a chocolate brown. It was tall, taller than your car. It kept its head hunkered down low to look at you in the driver's seat.

You wondered if you should break eye contact but you were pretty sure that you had seen somewhere that you were supposed to act like you were bigger when you came face to face with a wild animal.

Although you were in your car, you were sure that if it wanted to get you it could. Hell, you were sure that it could crush this thing with a flick of its tail if it wanted to.

A loud howl came from the right of your car. You jumped, foot easing off the brake and making the car lurch forward. You slammed your foot back down, stopping the car before it could hit the animal.

The wolf blinked a few times, not even flinching. It turned, slowly stalking to the right side of the road and giving you time to move.

You felt its eyes on you as you sped off past it.

Yeah, Hawkins was really fucking weird.

Next Chapter

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #werewolf!eddiemunson #fuckboy!eddie munson #eddie munson angst

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deathbecomesthem · 4 months

Text

Trailer Park Blues (one shot)

MINORS DNI, STRICTLY 18+

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | wc: 3.7K

*This is a reupload from an old blog. It's one of my most favorite stories.

Summary: You've lived in the trailer park as long as Eddie has, and you've been frenemies the entire time. Today, though, the heat of the summer drives you into the cool arms of the air conditioned trailer next door. (I am horny for summer as well as Eddie Munson)

Warnings: Smut with feelings. Teasing, before the smut, nothing overly mean. Depictions of poverty. There are no body descriptions of the reader, BUT she is wearing a string bikini, her body "jiggles" when she walks, she has breasts (no size mentioned), and she starts the story sunbathing.

A/N: I feel the need to thank @blueywrites and @pinkrelish for the initial encouragement to write this story after only reading the first 200 words when I literally had no plot in mind. There are many other friends that also encouraged and tossed ideas at me while I was figuring out if I even had something. Thanks, I hope it doesn't suck!

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Hot days like this push you out of the stagnant air of the trailer. Stuffy smoke-filled rooms and the occasional fly buzzing around the trashcan in the kitchen. Some of the neighbors have little ac units sticking out of their windows, promising a reprieve from the unmoving Indiana summer heat – but not your hovel. No, that was an expense you couldn’t afford, and your mother wouldn’t.

The string bikini was your idea of rebellion, despite being too old to rebel against a woman that was never home and wouldn’t care if her adult daughter walked around the park in the nude as long as she brought home her rent money. The upside was less fabric to stick to your sweaty skin, the downside was that every exposed part of you sticks to the reclining beach chair you use for sun tanning.

The baby oil you have slathered all over your body has blocked every other summer scent your nose might seek out while you let the sun beat down on you. You already know you won’t last long and begin to think about heading down to the Hawkins Public Pool for a dip, as long as you can scrape together the couple of bucks for entry. A movie was always a possibility, but that would cost you even more of what you don’t have. You’re ready to start digging a whole in the ground to settle into, any relief.

Just as you push your sunglasses to the top of your head, trying to mentally work out your path back into the hell that is your home, you feel a presence behind you. You know who it is, your bikini is his siren call. You also know that he might have a little scratch today, since last weekend was full of grad parties that needed some herbal refreshments provided by Hawkins best boy.

“Whad’ya want, Edward?” It doesn’t even require a turn of your head to know his presence, it’s second nature to recognize him. Every day of your life in the park since the age of 9 has included him, for better or worse. Never a real friend, and never a true enemy, just Ed.

“Booboo, you’re going to give everyone the wrong idea in that thing,” playful and light but tinged with venom, his words are what finally draw your attention. The shorts he’s wearing are an old pair of jeans cut just above the knees, and the shirt an old tee that he hacked the sleeves off of. You two are a match made in white trash heaven.

“Wouldn’t want that, huh?” You flick your sunglasses back down against the bridge of your nose to obscure your wandering eyes, but Eddie makes no attempt to hide his own. “You didn’t answer my question, Edward, what can I help you with?” Your impatient hand twirls in a come-on motion while your hot eyes rake across his exposed biceps traveling down to his boney wrists and big hands.

“I’m bored and I saw my old friend Booboo outside, obviously desperately seeking the attention of someone in the tiniest bikini known to man.” Eddie reaches a hand out to play with the string at the base of your neck where the halter ties before pinching the edge of your sunglasses and tugging them off your face.

“Wow, you’re really hung up on that. You’re lucky I’m wearing anything, it’s so fucking hot today.” No words about it exchanged, but you start to reach back for your glasses while Eddie’s long arm reaches above his head to hold them out of your arm’s length. It’s a natural thing, what you do next. Something you’ve done so many other times you don’t really think about how much older you both are now. How inappropriate it might be. He has something of yours and you want it back. Your quick hand reaches easily into the loose arm hole and find its prize on instinct. Pinch hard and twist.

A swat, a yelp, a leg kicking yours out, and you find yourself wrapped up in Eddie’s much stronger arms. A sudden thought, the fact that you’re wearing nothing more than strings with small patches of fabric covering your most sensitive places, flashes in your mind. It makes your knees want to buckle. A small stumble met with a firmer grip from the boy standing behind you.

“Woah there, you alright?” A strong hand moves to steady your elbow and you sink back into your chair for a moment, and he’s crouching down to take a look at your face. His concern makes you heat up even more, because the face so close to your own is not that of the boy that used to tease you and chase you around. No, this is the face of a young man, and you’ve noticed those changes so much in recent years. Those big brown eyes have remained the same, open and full of shared memories.

It's your chance, so you take it, grabbing the frames from his hand while he’s still searching your face for any sign of distress. You put them on your face again, letting them shield any secrets you might not want him to see.

“Listen, Edward,” you give him a light shove to his shoulder making him wobble a little, “It’s hot, and I’m fine. Unless you have some sort of brilliant plan to turn the heat down, I’m gonna go take my third ice cold shower for the day.”

“Uh,” he’s turning a skeptical eye at the trailer behind you, the one you share with your mother, while you stand again using him as leverage. He stays where he is, his face level with the front of your bikini bottoms. You can see a thought, not unlike the ones you try to hide from him, scuttle across his face, “you guys still don’t even have one unit in that trash compactor you call a trailer?”

A jab and a miss, you know how everyone looks at your place. Even for the park, it’s low living. It’s been a rough go for your mom, and you both make do together. “Sorry, Edward, some of us don’t live in the lap of luxury.”

His laugh, a bark of joy, rings out. He looks like the boy right now, the boisterous laugh turned giggle fit at the absurdity of considering the Munson trailer the “lap of luxury.” He’s on his feet in a flash, suddenly close again, face still beaming.

“How about you spend some time with me in the Munson mansion, eh? Have a little smoke, you can read or watch a movie,” Eddie subconsciously licks at his lips, giving away the thoughts behind the words, “whatever you want, Booboo. I’m not doing shit anyway.”

Whatever you want is what he says. None of it passes your notice, the looks, the lips, the subtle leaning into your space, the hand at your shoulder absentmindedly rubbing your baby oil slicked skin. He probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it, the summer sun boiling his brain right along with yours.

“Yeah, ok.” The gaze between you lingers for another moment until a mosquito lands on his cheek. He doesn’t notice, but you smash it with a slap and laugh at his reaction. You show him the residual bug guts on your palm as explanation, “sorry, didn’t want it to bite you and mess up that pretty face.”

A spin of your heels and a job back to the porch of your own trailer gives Eddie the perfect view of your ass. You make sure to exaggerate the movements of your hips, letting his imagination run off to thoughts of his face between your soft thighs. The way your sweaty skin would taste against his tongue. By the time you’re jogging back towards him with the other half of your jiggling body on display, he’s sporting a semi and wishing the shorts he chose gave him a little more wiggle room.

“Edddddddiiiieee,” you’re pulling an oversized t shirt by the time you reach his side, and you find him a little dazed, “let’s go inside. We can order a pizza later, as long as you don’t kick me out by then.” Your elbow is hooked in his, an old habit from the days of tromping around the woods together when you were kids, as you lead him up the stairs to the sweet relief of the dark and cool Munson trailer.

“Oh, Booboo, you can stay as long as you want.” His admission is a light exhale of breath as he watches your hips sway up the steps in front of him. And you think, you’ll stay for pizza, you’ll stay for a toke, and you’ll stay for whatever else might be on the table.

You had greatly underestimated the effect the cool air would have on your sweat slicked skin. Your mostly bare ass is sat on the carpet of Eddie’s room where a small window air conditioner is clanking out polar air into the room. A sweet and acrid smell hangs in the air, no doubt a leak from the unit, along with stale smoke and dust. Crumbs cling to your skin as you shift your position, and your nipples are pebbled standing out against the layer of swimsuit and cotton.

“Goddamnit, Ed, have you ever heard of a vacuum cleaner?” You brush off what appears to be Cheeto crumbs from the backs of your thighs when a head appears next to your own hanging off the side of the bed. His hair tickles your shoulder where your shirt hangs off, and he’s close. He always gets so close when he talks to you. You can see every individual hair across the pale skin of his cheeks, every freckle scattered across the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, the maid’s on vacation. Uh –“ he scans your body awkwardly from his current position and clears his throat, “You feeling a little cold, Booboo?” Poniente, the question hangs for a moment until he nods his head to your chest where your body has betrayed you, and you feel your nipples peak even harder at the implication.

You give his head a weak shove as an effort to break the tension he created. He grabs his cheek in mock agony, and you stand letting your shirt drift over his face giving him a prime view for the briefest moment. You think you hear something akin to a snarl from Eddie before you crawl onto the mattress next to him. You grab the crochet blanket that rests off the far edge of the bed and wrap it around yourself.

“Much better now, thank you.” Your painted toes wiggle under the skin of his calves in an attempt to steal their warmth and you find that there’s a chill to his skin too. “You can turn that thing down, can’t you? You’re freezing, Edward.”

“Oh, we’re back to Edward again, hmmm.” He crawls his way up next to you, throwing back his comforter and covering himself. He holds it open in invitation to you, patting the spot next to him. “It only works on high, we can get warm under here if you want.” That tension is back, you both know what comes next, and your heart is thudding in your chest along with a deep and hard pulse in your cunt.

But this is Eddie, your Eddie Spaghetti, and he can’t take the tension either. A quick wiggle of the eyebrows at his obvious attempt to get you close to him, and you giggle and work your way under the big blanket. A reward he deserves for being his goofy self.

“Is this ok?” a quick and quiet whisper against the top of your head while a hand snakes around your center. You nod, not trusting your words at the moment. It’s so natural, the way you shift yourself into him. The way you tuck your nose into his chest and breath in the smell of him – sweat, smoke, old spice – distinctly Eddie. The rough pads of his fingers move along the exposed skin at the top of your hip and you’re feeling bolder, now that you know – this is real and so is he.

“I can’t believe I’m in your bed, Edward. How long have you been planning this, hmm?” Your own hand snuck its way through the wide arm hole of his shirt, and it’s playing with the guitar pick that always hangs at his chest. You let the back of your knuckles brush against his soft skin eliciting a little gasp from him.

“I wish I could say I planned this,” both of his hands find your hips to shift you, make you face him, “I never thought this was a possibility, Booboo.” Every inch, the turn of his face, hot breath on your lips – his eyes stay on yours watching to make sure it’s real for you. You want this too. He sees no hesitation, no concern, no confusion; only your honest to god lustful eyes and pretty lips hanging open in anticipation.

The kiss starts small, lips moving cautiously. Feeling each other with the tender skin, testing the waters until, until, until in unison your tongues enter the silent conversation and permission to move freely is granted. Eagerness quickly overtakes caution, your leg thrown over his sharp hip to pull him into you and press himself against you and your aching need.

Years of sexual tension and childhood crushing explode between your bodies. It’s not soft, the way his teeth bite at your lip, the way your hands scratch at his chest. It’s hungry and needy. You run your fingers through his soft curls and give a tug increasing in strength at the soft whimpering moan he lets go of at the action.

“Off.” Firm words from Eddie and a firm grip at the edge of your shirt, his eyes are black, lips red and kiss bitten. You sit up, and he plays with the folds of your soft stomach while you lift and toss the shirt, adding to a pile of clothes already in the corner of his room. He’s pulling you in again, fingers running against the small string that is the only remaining barrier between Eddie and your bare chest. “This is real cute, ya know? Real fucking cute.” He finds the knot at the back of your neck and expertly unties it with his nimble fingers, freeing you.

An immediate slow down happens as dark eyes wash over your form and fingers softly stroke up and down your torso, barely ghosting touches across your hard peaks. You feel your back lift from the mattress, chasing his touch, but he keeps moving lightly across your skin savoring the moment unbothered by your obvious need.

“Eddie,” the desperation in your voice would be embarrassing if not for the fact that the bottom of your bikini is so drenched with your arousal it’s sticking to your lips. It’s uncomfortable, and his barely there touching has is deepening the ache inside. His eyebrows are knitted together at the sound of your voice. He’s lost in you already, just the sight of you laid out before him in his bed, something he’s wanted since the first morning he woke up surrounded by wet drenched sheets – a memory of a dream that featured you in a yellow sundress you wore so often a few summers ago.

“You really want this with me?” His touch is gaining surety while he waits for your answer, gripping at the soft mound of a breast while you rock your hips against nothing. “How do you want me, my sweet Booboo?” The sound of your nickname on his lips, a name he’s used to playfully ridicule you with for ages, is almost enough to hurtle you over the edge.

“I just want you, Eddie. Anyway, everyway.” Your words are a gasp, his warm and soft mouth take a nipple in your mouth, juxtaposed against the chill that still settles over the other from the overly cold air of the room. His lips suckle and nip at you, and again you find your body is pushing its way closer to Eddie. It’s not possible to play a game, no amount of willpower can hide how much you’ve wanted this. How long you’ve dreamt about him taking what he wants from you. A flitter of a thought, this is a dream, floats in front of you and quickly vanishes as the slight pain of teeth dragging across your sensitive skin bring you right back to the present and obvious reality.

It won’t do, this won’t do. Your hands tug at his shirt and shorts simultaneously. It all needs to go, and you can’t choose what goes first. Your brain is swimming in a lusty haze, but Eddie is still steady in thought.

“Hey,” his hand has a firm grip on your chin, calling you back to him, “you gonna stay with me? Where are you?” His eyes dart back and forth between yours until you’re back and focused on him. “I need you here with me, ok?”

You nod, breathe deep, and with more calm pull at his shirt. It’s gone in a flash, landing on top of yours in the corner. Your hand finds the waist of his shorts, and fiddle with the top button. You keep your eyes on his, staying with him. His mouth opens as the button *pops* and you unhook the teeth of his zipper.

“I’m here, Eddie. I’m right here, and I want you. Did you know that?” It’s his turn to look hazy and unsteady. Your words and your hands working his shorts and boxers off in one movement, leave him speechless. He’s putty in your hands, elbow drops and now he’s laid flat on the mattress while you work your way down his body.

You’re careful with the nipple you badly abused earlier, kissing around the still reddened and slightly purpling skin. Whispered apologies against his body, not just for the pain, but for waiting so long to let this happen. You lick your wet tongue across the black ink scratched across his torse moving closer to your goal.

His beautiful cock stands firm against his abdomen, already leaking in anticipation of your touch, matching your own need. Your bodies slick and ready for each other, begging, please let us do what we’ve been wanting for so long. Your intention is to meet his need with your own as you throw a leg over him, finally letting him feel how much your body wants this.

“Oh my god,” his fingers move to find out for themselves, not trusting the skin of his thigh to tell him, moving the fabric of your swimsuit to the side, and dipping between your lips to feel. “Oh you’re so wet.” His cock twitches in answer to your own drenching arousal. He doesn’t make a move, he waits for you.

Your fingers reach for one of the knots at your hip, free yourself completely from the ruined suit, but his hand stops you. It’s your Eddie in front of you, and he’s shaking his head eyes wide a grin spread across lips that mouth, “keep it on”.

You’re giggling again and kissing him against your laughter. Until he undoes it again with a rock up of his hips, the length of his cock rubbing against your slit and your laugh ends in an obscene groan.

You sit up, eyes narrowed down at the smirking boy as he rocks up again into you. You reach your hand behind you, gripping him and watch his mouth open in a gasp. You don’t need anything more, you’re soaked already. You push the suit aside, and run him against your slit once, twice, three times before you twist your hips up and slowly sink down onto him.

“Oh my god,” an exclamation in unison as your bodies connect. You let yourself take him in completely, fluttering at the full feeling. You can feel him pulsing inside of you, the slightest curve of his tip touching that hard-to-reach spot hiding deep inside of you.

It’s sloppy and unpracticed, but you’re both so drunk on one another it doesn’t matter. The sounds of skin on skin, whines, and moans while you rock into each other. The coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your aching nub send you hurtling towards a powerful orgasm.

“Eddie, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you’re uttering on an inhale, and Eddie is practically crying at the sound of your voice. He’s pulling you down chest to chest, mouth at ear.

“Cum with me, baby, cum with me,” he’s panting against your skin, arms holding you tight against him and a flash of white spreads across your vision. Every part of your body is screaming out for him, and you only vaguely hear the literal scream coming from your mouth as your body tenses and you pulse around him. Every flutter of you around his cock brings his own release pumping deep inside of you, warm and sticky.

You stay with his arms wrapped around you and your pussy wrapped around his cock as you both ride out aftershocks and you slowly come back down to earth, to Hawkins, to this bed in this too cold trailer on the hottest day of the summer of 1986.

You eventually lift your hips enough to release him, letting his softened length rest against his thigh, but you stay in his embrace. He pulls the comforter, lost at some point while your connected bodies sought out pleasure, over your shoulders. His mouth is still close to your ear, and he’s humming in satisfaction. Neither of you care about the sticky and cooling mess between your bodies.

When you rouse, you find Eddie sitting in a folding chair, fingers moving against the strings of his acoustic guitar in silent and careful movements. You don’t move, watching the tendons of his fingers move, his lips singing a barely whispered tune. You think that maybe the summer’s not so bad, maybe the trailer park is actually the only place you’ve ever wanted to be. No where else has this perfect view.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff

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festering-obsession · 2 years

Text

Just saw the avatar trailer,,,, thinking possible yandere content, I mean how could i not? Just an na'vi oc for this one.

TW's: Yandere Content, Monster x Human, Interspecies, Slight Injury, Possessive Behavior

Just imagine, you’re running through a thick, dense jungle that even despite all the hours you put into studying Pandora, you are still helpless, and you fear you may die. If it wasn’t for that man who was meant to just stand guard, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Your heavy breathing fogged up your mask as you barely skidded away from the Thanator. They normally didn’t travel in pairs, so isn’t that your luck for the day!

Cuts and bruises have already appeared on your skin and you can feel them burn, but adrenaline pushes you forward. The distant sound of your teammates screams and gunshots slowly die down and you can only hear the colliding footsteps and your ragged breath. If you survive this, you definitely need to work on stamina.

The foreign ground meets your face and your heart stops, you know it’s over. This is how you’ll die, on your first expedition and all the time spent for this planet will go to waste. Or maybe if you did join the Avatar Program and not be stubborn, maybe you would have been better suited to survive this. Your death will just go as warning to other new researchers that maybe humans were not meant for this.

But you feel your body lurched off the ground as a long arm swoops under your smaller body, swiftly swinging back up a tree. You dangle from the arm as if a ragdoll and as you own hands reach around to cling to something, the startling blue allowed your eyes to travel up the tall and lean being. Your hands grabbed around his arm as you watched his long legs climb the terrain out of the animal’s reach. A couple of times you did screw your eyes shut as you saw how far he could drop you if he decided that one less human is one less possible problem.

And the running comes to a stop, but your eyes still stay closed in fear even when you can feel him slowly ease you down. Your sitting on the ground covering your eyes as you try to slow your breathing. As your hands slowly lower, you can see the Na’vi in front of you on one knee, face looming extremely close. If it weren’t for the mask, his face would be literal inches away. You want to say something, anything but words fail as you gaze at someone so inhumanly beautiful. Maybe the fact he wasn’t human was what made him so handsome.

You notice some differences about this one in particular. His clothing more dark, near black, and he has strands of red intertwined into his pulled back hair. There's also a cloth masking his nose and lower mouth. Although he does contain jewelry, they are all notably less bright and pigmented like the ones you have seen in research.

He looms close, his large hand gripping the sides of your face, or well mask, clearly studying you. You're at a loss of what to do as the fear of him breaking it strengthens. With a shaky hand, you place yours over his as you smile trying to show no harm as you pull the other arm up as well.

You hope he doesn't take offense to your less than better pronunciation. "I mean no harm, I'm sorry for trespassing your area."

His feline like eyes stare down into yours and for the life of you, you can't read him.

A hand pushes you towards him. His hands engulf your figure as your pressed against his scared chest.

"Today marks the day you belong to me."

#yandere imagines #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #yandere scenarios #Na'vi x reader #Na'vi imagines #avatar the way of water #alien x reader #Yandere alien #yandere #yandere x darling #alien boyfriend

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ns-imagines · 9 months

Text

What they drive

141 Guys x domestic/everyday life

SFW | Word Count: 1.4k | Headcannons

**Long post with lots of pictures!

A/N: I dunno much about cars but I always wonder what the boys would be driving. See what they’re picking me up in for date night… this is just for fun and highlights the modern life they have outside of missions. Also the gif of Soap falling on the car took me out lmao. Not requested. -Kiv

John Price

A man who takes pride in his vehicles. He has two Chevy trucks. A nice truck for everyday use and a project truck. The perfect person to talk to if you are thinking of purchasing a car or truck. Price has got the “dealership scam” game down. You'll be leaving the lot with a good deal.

The project car being a 1985 Chevy C10. Price is always going on about how “this is every man's dream car to work on”. He says it everytime he opens the garage. Without fail! It's got a classic blue color with a few rust spots but, nothing a good layer of paint can't fix. Its the 90s car from the movies. Nothing else to say about it!

Ahh the project car. Price works on it when he can. Set up a lawn chair, get a glass of lemonade, and just watch that man work. Sometimes hell even explain to you what he’s doing. That is if you can even pay attention. There’s something so attractive about a man talking about what he’s passionate about all sweaty with a nice pump. HEY, wipe that drool off your face.

Price’s personal truck is nice. It gets him from point A to B. Everything on it is stock. He’ll always tell you hes gonna sell it once his project car has been fixed. But there’s still quite a lot to do on the project car. Its a 2012 Chevy Silverado in cherry black with a covered bed. Good on gas and can pull a trailer or boat! He doesn’t invest money in it for other than maintenance costs.

It smells specifically like “Lakeside Morning” from Bath and Body works car scents. The packaging is what got him. It was honestly super cute when he read the package out loud. “Smells like: Cool, Sweet, Fresh, and alone time on the dock” followed by a shrug and him throwing it into his cart. Does he even fish?

Oh, whenever he turns a corner in the Silverado theres a thud coming from the bed. Its a cooler that has been there FOREVER. He swears he’s going to take it out. Price brought it when 141 met for a cook out and some beers a few months ago.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Don’t ask about the APR please. Kyle is going to use this bad girl till it breaks. Its his dream car. Price took him away from base to get a better rate for it! Its fast its speedy its a 2015 Ford Shelby GT350. Oh yeah racing stripes and all. He got it wrapped in a matte ocean blue. Im talking leather seats, tinted windows, and custom wheel.

Kyle loves this car and will always offer to pick you up. Ur always going to be passenger princess. Kyle always drives up reallll slow, rev the engine a little, and rolls down the window to smile big at you. He gets the door for you when you are both approaching the car. Don’t test him. He will literally sprint to get the door for you. An actual cutiepie

Hes so damn cute when it comes to long drives. Hand on your thigh and singing to the music together. Expect spontaneous trips!! He doesn’t even know where you guys are headed today.

Loves to speed up when there no cars in front of him. That feeling of the car pushing into you the sear is his favorite. Kyle is definitely the type to lightly bang on the steering wheel and go “Wooooooo” when returning to the normal speed limit. Hehe. Hope it didn’t freak you out too much. You will without a doubt get a few reassuring thigh squeezes.

Classic Black Ice scent. Cant go wrong with it! Its his car’s signature sent if you ask him. Kyle keeps his car clean. Theres a few half empty water bottles in the back but never straight up trash. He makes sure to buy the premium wipes for the interior. Like I said that car is his baby. Ugh did i mention the sound system?! Its absolutely amazing. You can feel the bass in your bones. Literally sounds like you’re in an air pod pro.

John “Soap” Mactavish

His car is the hangout car. Like if were going out with boys were taking Soaps car. He drives a pearl colored 2020 Honda Accord. He ordered the under the seat lights and everything. Its actually a vibe in there. The music changes the lights or he has an app on his phone to change the color. Another amazing sound system tbh.

Similar to Gaz the glovebox in the car is yours. He even puts stuff in there for you as a surprise :,). Sweet baby Johnny. Like one time you got in the car like usual and opened the glovebox to grab chapstick or some perfume/cologne and sitting on the car instruction manual was a bag/box of ur favorite snack. When you looked back over, Johnny was looking back at you with a big derpy smile.

Since his car is the hangout car it can get messy pretty easily. He has to do “trash runs” to empty the random things people leave in his car. Dont get it wrong, It isnt nasty with random food left behind!! Soap has tried those like little trash cans on Amazon but they always end up lost under the back seats.

Johnny always goes with New Car Smell. He doesn’t have a specific brand he likes he just gets whatever’s at the gas station at the time. He also has the bad habit of never locking his car. Soap swears he always forgets to but you think its just a habit at this point.

CEO of spontaneous trips. You would never believe how much camping stuff his car can hold. Soap will give him car encouraging words as it struggles to go up the hills to the hike or camping site. He always keeps an emergency box under the passenger seat. Its shaped like tackle box. It has a first aid kit, some portable batteries with chargers, flares, and an emergency flash light. Last time you both went camping he was so excited to show you the random hatchet he bought. He keeps it in the trunk for no reason. I mean, he cant have it in the barracks so you suppose it makes sense.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon currently owns two bikes. Hes in the process of selling his old one. Which is a chameleon purple painted 2006 Suzuki GSXR600 with 750 cc. It gave him a good year and half off rides. He took care of it and rode it to its top speeds. It has a scuff on the side from when he tried to do a wheelie but, he was going to slow and had to jump off before it fell to its side. Your heart sunk when it happened. Ghost was super embarrassed because he thought he had it down. He’ll never tell you though.

After a long deployment where he was getting quite a big of hazard pay (extra pay when you’re in a dangerous location) he saved it all up. As soon as he got back he bought a black 2021 Honda Rebel 1100 DCT. This bike is fast but it’s more for cursing. Trust that he’ll ride it to its max speed at least once for the adrenaline rush.

Bought you a matching jacket. He wont say anything about it being matching but you noticed almost after putting it on. Best part about riding is when you get to wrap your arms around his waist. Simon always makes sure to take it slow especially if you get nervous on bikes. Don’t even try to do your hair. He wont move the bike unless you have the right gear on. Ghost doesn’t wanna lose you from an accident.

You are probably wondering what he does when it rains… or maybe you already knew he chooses to ride anyway. I promise though that after a ride in the rain he will slightly complain about how wet the road was. It makes you worry because so much could happen with one slip. Simon will always reassure you that he’s an experienced rider. If you pick him up in your car he won’t be upset. Definitely wont say no to a free and dry ride!

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #cod headcanons #call of duty x reader #cod mw3

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star-girl69 · 10 months

Text

Dark But Just a Game

Lottie Matthews x Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

sypnosis: A former Yellowjacket with a vendetta against the team and anyone associated with them targets you during gym class dodgeball. Your girlfriends take their revenge.

a/n: this literally sucks but oh well i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: CRINGEY AS HELL, literal assault lol, swearing, injury, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You have spent far too much time in the Wiskayok gym.

You’re there for every girls soccer practice, every pep rally and assembly, and they still force you to play dodgeball in this poorly lit, sweaty place.

Soon, the walls are going to start greeting you.

You look towards Laura Lee, smiling, watching as she rolls her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to get out!” you shout, knowing you had every opportunity to move before the ball hit your leg.

“Sure,” she smiles, having more integrity than you, and you make your way over to the bleachers.

While you’re not a member of the star soccer team, Lottie and Nat are on it, and most of your friends are- so you feel a duty to come as much as you can.

You enjoy watching them run around, groaning and shouting, and you like driving home with Lottie and Nat each night, stopping at the trailer park parking lot to smoke whatever Natalie had brought today, watching her walk to her house, and Lottie’s hand on your thigh for the rest of the drive.

All of your lives were so intwined that you couldn’t imagine anything different. You would have to take the bus without Lottie. You would get home earlier if you didn’t stay for their practice. Your entire life would be uprooted.

You lean back into the metal and tap your fingers against it, watching Laura Lee dodge whatever’s coming at her only to shoot them right back. You silently cheer her on until Marsha, a former Yellowjacket, finally got her out.

She didn’t seem to mind. And you didn’t either, not until you noticed the way Laura Lee was limping over to you, and the way her thigh had turned red with the imprint of the rubber ball.

“Oh my gosh,” you breathe as she sits down next to you. She pulls up the end of your shorts so you can both see it. “Oh, Laura Lee,” you murmur, staring at the red skin.

You glare over towards the other team, where Marsha sends the two of you a glare.

“Oh, she’s just so damn bitter, isn’t she?” you huff.

Laura Lee seems a little guilty when she nods.

“I prayed for her to get her grades up!” she says like she’s explaining it straight to God.

Marsha had gotten kicked off the team months ago because her grades were so poor. You faintly remember Jackie even giving her the copied answers for their French class, but still. And to this day, she hates every Yellowjacket. And you, by extension.

You sigh and turn back to Laura Lee.

“Does it hurt bad? Wanna go to the nurse?”

“No,” she says, kicking her feet. “It doesn’t hurt bad.”

“You sure?” you ask, but when you look back down at her leg, the redness has already started to fade- if only slightly. “Oh, well, okay,” you mumble.

The first game ends, and the teacher blows his whistle, so you both stand up, whispering about how Micheal was so rude to Mrs. Stock second period.

Everyone goes to the opposite sides of the gym. Another sharp whistle, and everyone takes off for the balls lined up in the middle. You and Laura Lee stay behind, walking slowly, still finishing up your conversation.

You look away from the court, watching as Laura Lee walks away to pick up a ball.

“I couldn’t believe that he said that, you know? I mean, he has to have a little respect, right?”

Laura Lee straightens and shakes her head. “And he goes to church every Sunday.”

She looks up at you. “Y/N!” she shouts, dropping the ball, pointing towards something in front of you, and you turn to see it, something slamming into your face.

You hear this horrible, stomach-churning crack, then quick build up of pressure, and then a swift release as blood start pouring from your nose.

Yours and Laura Lee’s screams melt into one.

—-

“I have a really bad headache.”

“And I have a really bad stomachache. Can I just lay down for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, and can I get some ice?”

You can hear their voices, and you almost want to cry more. Your nose aches horribly, the ice doing nothing to help you, but at least keeping your head tilted back like this has stopped the bleeding. It’s still sticky and half-dried, running down your chest and shirt, mixing with your salty tears.

“Sure,” the nurse says. “I just have to go to the staff room, we’re out of ice in here unfortunately. Sit in those two beds. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Lottie says.

“Mhm. Mhm, thank you,” Natalie says.

You can hear the nurse’s footsteps fade away.

“Natalie? Lottie?” you ask, sure it’s them, but just wanting to hear their voices more.

“Hey,” Nat says, leaning over you, brushing hair from your face. Lottie grabs your free hand and smiles softly.

“My nose really fucking hurts,” you whisper, laughing slightly, tears rolling down your face.

“C’mere,” Natalie says, her hand cupping yours, helping you pull the ice away from your face. “You’re alright- oh, Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your eyes widen.

“Is it that bad?” you ask, wincing at the air hitting your nose. Nat’s eyes widen, and she grimaces, trying to be good to you, but you can feel it.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lottie coos, her thumb brushing against the back of your palm.

You take a deep breath, Natalie pressing the ice back to your face, and you just stare at the ceiling, trying not to cry more.

“It was fuckin’ Marsha,” you say after a moment. You had understood her anger before, but after this you just feel bitter resentment and… rage towards her.

What have you done to her besides date two Yellowjackets?

“God, I can’t believe her,” you continue, sniffling.

“Hold on, what?” Nat asks. Your look towards her, her brows furrowed together, her jaw clenched. “It was fuckin’ Marsha?”

“Marsha.” Lottie hisses, her usually kind and sweet voice filled with such violence.

“She’s gonna look like a marsh when I’m done with her.”

You laugh, and even Natalie and Lottie smile a bit, even though all of you know a part of Nat is serious.

“Okay,” you chuckle. “Don’t go all fuckin’ Joker on us, or whatever.” Lottie smiles against your hand as she kisses your knuckles.

Natalie just smiles softly, brushing your hair back one more time, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

—-

Your parents graciously let you spend the next day at home, your nose still throbbing and having been reset by a doctor- you were miserable. Lottie and Nat had swung by your house on their way to school, waking you up with sweet touches and sweet words, before promising they would come after practice.

Practice ended at 5pm, and it only took about 15 minutes for them to pack up and get to your house. So, at 5:15, you had dimmed the lights in the living room, set the remote and a bowl of popcorn out on the coffee table, blankets carefully wrapped around you.

They usually just barged into your house without any warning, and this time was no different. Your face was puffy and your nose was swollen, but they still smiled so sweetly when they saw you.

Lottie threw her backpack to the floor and jumped onto your couch, wrapping her arms around your neck.

She placed her hand on your face, frowning at your nose, a scab already starting to form near the top.

“Feeling any better?” she coos, and you nod, maybe a bit too fast, just excited to spend time with them and forget about your throbbing nose and the embarrassment.

“You’re gonna give her a double broken nose jumping on her like that,” Natalie laughs, setting her backpack down much more carefully. She bends over and you look at her light grey jean shorts.

You giggle slightly.

“What the hells on your ass?”

It was dark blue, dried, obviously something that happened much earlier in the day. You imagined her sitting in history class, only for some spilled ink to be on her seat.

Lottie straightens and pulls away from you.

“You didn’t check your clothes?!” she hisses to Natalie, her mouth immediately clamping shut after she realized what she said.

“Wait, what happened today?” you ask, laughing until Natalie sits down next to you, looking a little sheepish. Your smile falls. “What?”

You’re a little scared for their answer.

Natalie and Lottie shoot each other a look.

“Well…” Lottie starts. “I may have accidentally bought a pack of balloons from the party store yesterday. And then I accidentally blew it up this morning, and accidentally put a bunch of ink from some pens in it, and I may have written something on it with Sharpie. And…. maybe I gave it to Marsha…”

“And then we accidentally walked in front of Marsha while she chased after us, and I accidentally spilled some water, and she accidentally slipped and fell on the balloon… accidentally getting ink all over herself.”

Both of them cringe and look away, waiting for your reaction.

You mouth drops open in shock.

“Some of it must have accidentally splashed on me…” Nat trails off.

Lottie hits her slightly. “Even though I told her to make sure there wasn’t any on her!”

“How am I supposed to see my ass, Lottie?”

“I-”

You start laughing like you haven’t in years. A laugh straight from your stomach, from the deepest happiest parts of you, a laugh that makes them start laughing too.

“You’re not, like, really mad at us?” Lottie whispers when you’ve all quieted down.

“Well… thanks for avenging my honor?”

Natalie chuckles and kisses your cheek. “Anytime.”

“Unrelated, but we won’t be at lunch for the next week.”

“Oh,” you hum, placing the popcorn in your lap and leaning back. “So, you totally don’t have lunch detention, right?”

“Totally,” Lottie affirms, kissing your forehead, relaxed, because she knows she can do it again and again.

—-

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

#lottienat x reader #lottie matthews x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x reader

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extocancer · 11 months

Text

Winter Coat Hymnal

Eddie Munson has never been good at goodbyes.

Then again, what is he supposed to do when looking his uncle who is none the wiser in the face on the front steps of the rickety porch of a not-so-brand new trailer just on the outskirts of Hawkins with a threadbare bag of minimal necessities slung over his shoulder?

Does he try to explain himself?

Does he simply trust Wayne to understand and let him go easily?

Does he cry?

Does he… hold it in?

Part of Eddie wants to make it hurt - give it enough pain so that Wayne tears himself from the overbearing habits that have been formed since he got out of the hospital. Checking in multiple times a day, calling from work even more at night, staying up on his days off sat on the porch with a carton of cigarettes and a case of beer lest he fall asleep – lest something happen during his accidental fifteen minute naps.

Wayne's eyes are tired, he’s tired.

But he can still tell, can still observe the bag over Eddie’s shoulder and take a hint when they move behind him and linger on the shiny BMW parked on the gravel driveway just by the mailbox, back packed sparsely with old reused boxes from the diner labeled ‘frozen meat’ and scribbled over in illegible handwriting that belongs to the other man standing beside the car.

Steve leans against it.

Arms crossed, eyes on the ground, lips downturned into a heavy frown like he’s been dreading this day for weeks.

And it had been…weeks.

Weeks since they’d made this promise to each other, weeks since Steve begged him to at least say goodbye even if it’s the day of – but he didn’t know it would be taken so literally.

To be fair, neither did Eddie.

“You got something to say, boy, you better say it.”

There’s no heat behind it, only the shaking voice of someone who’s probably seen this coming. Guilt fills Eddie’s shaking hands, steadied only by the hardened grip on the strap of his bag.

Wayne's shoulders square like he’s preparing to take a hit to the gut – he’s always taught his nephew to be truthful. To be comfortable saying anything, come to him with everything.

It’s easier said than done. Hell, how was this harder than being in eighth grade with a snotty nose rubbed face down along the cushions of the couch because he didn’t want to be..

A queer.

An outcast?

Fearing the worst with a bag packed almost the same as this resting by the door but receiving only acceptance.

“I’m leaving.” He says, and it comes out strangled despite his best efforts – it wasn’t supposed to be this way. Eddie was supposed to just go, run away from the face of family like a coward after he’d faced a hoard of interdimensional demon bats because his pusillanimity knows no bounds.

This isn’t a monster or a hoard of angry hicks.

This is Wayne.

This is the man that taught him how to ride a bike even after his knees had been skinned over and over again until they left scars he still has today, how to unhook a fish and fear not it’s sharp gills cutting along his fingers after the first time he’d yanked them away in shock — big brown eyes fearful in the middle of that boat in lovers lake at seven years old.

More fond memories replaced with impossible horror.

Smallmouth bass are no easy feat.

But this hurts a lot worse than a bloody hand - sinks his heart into the pit of his stomach like he’s swimming down into a slimy portal to hell after the very cause of that snotty nose all over again.

If he’s thinking anything specific, Eddie can’t tell, with his eyes never leaving Steve even filled with as much pain as they are. Glazed over with what he thinks is tears.

He’s only ever seen Wayne cry once.

“Where to?” He asks, gripping the door handle with as much force as Eddie does his own bag.

“Colorado.” Eddie says.

One thousand fifty three miles.

“Near winter park. The Rockies.”

Wayne finally pulls his eyes from Steve who’s still scuffing his shoes along dirt and rock as he waits and returns them to Eddie. His boy.

With a sharp inhale he tries his damndest at a curt nod, at quick acceptance.

There’s a cabin up in the mountains there, Eddie tells him, tucked into the woodiest parts just at nine thousand feet above sea level. Cheap. Needs fixing but has all the potential in the world, just far enough away from people that they wouldn’t have to worry about anything at all.

The we is what snags Wayne’s attention the most – and Eddie knows that he knows from the look in his eyes, the tilt of his head.

His eyes are still misty, though he blinks them back with another nod and steps out onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

“You gonna come say hello, son?”

Steve’s head shoots up from where he stands, his own face full of exhaustion, dark circles dipping into sorrowful eyes. He does approach, hands shoved into his pockets as he ascends the stairs and stops beside Eddie.

They’ve met before in the hospital a multitude of times – Eddie knows this, so when Steve refers to Wayne as sir this time he can’t help but break his own tearful expression for the sake of a sad snicker behind his fist. Like a nervous new boyfriend meeting the folks, he sticks one hand out to shake but it lingers untouched for so long that he almost puts it down, opens his mouth for some kind of preemptive defense before Wayne pushes his palm into it and tugs him forward into a tight hug.

Steve doesn’t hesitate because they’ve hugged before.

Eddie’s seen that too, from his blurry just awakening eyes, the shadow of Steve comforting his uncle just outside of the hospital room.

He still doesn’t know how long it had been between his arrival and his awakening – didn’t want to.

But knew they both of them had been there the whole time.

Wayne pulls away but keeps Steve in a tight grip at arms length, face stone serious.

“You gonna watch after this one? Keep him outta mischief?”

“Planning on it.” He replies, forcing a small smile onto his lips.

“Jus’ make sure he gets a good winter coat..gets cold up in them mountains and I never could get him to wear one, even as a kid.”

Eddie snorts against his fist, flattening his palm against his mouth and drags it downward with a shake of his head.

Wayne isn’t angry.

The only thing he’s worried about is repeating the same thing he’s always said every single time he’s left the house since he was fifteen.

‘Just wear a coat.’

‘Drive safe.’

‘Call me when you get to a stoppin’ point’

The last one is new. It stings just a little.

‘Don’t go forgettin about me.’

Eddie promises not to, offers him a spare room sometime in the future with a hopeful look on his face but Wayne shakes his head.

He’s gettin too old, prefers stayin put.

They’ll visit for holidays and birthdays and bring back gifts. Send postcards from their slice of heaven in the mountains.

Eddie never sees a singular tear escape his uncle's eyes until they’re walking back to the car, hidden behind a sleeved wipe of his nose any would mistake as just a product of the cold air around them.

He just can’t take it, swigs his bag into the backseat beside his baby and plops into the passenger seat alongside Steve, waves one ringed hand out of the window at him while the other one splays out across the center console to intertwined tightly with Steve’s – gentle squeezes making for just enough reassurance. Comfort.

“He loves you, you know.” It sounds like he wants to say something else completely, couched out and strangled between words.

Even he had teared up a little. But Eddie thinks that may be one of the only things left in the world that he knows for a fact, dwindles on the others for a long while until they’re only three hours into their long drive, palms still clasped even though they’ve become uncomfortably sweaty in front of the vents that produce scalding heat to combat the winter air.

“I love you.” He says, because it’s the only other thing.

And Steve smiles, big and genuine for the first time since they’d shared a shy and fearful kiss.

“Does that mean you’ll wear a coat?”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #wayne munson #steddie ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #light angst #one shot #drabble #Extocancer shorts

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Based on a request that I got, and I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, fingering, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), subby!Eddie, brief mention of pain from piercing, brief mention of dacryphilia

WC: 1.2k

A/N: the photo of the piercing does not represent what the Reader should look like. It's literally my piercing okay pls be nice no body shaming.

Your new piercing was the hardest secret you’d ever had to keep.

Every night when you and Eddie would talk on the phone, you had to hold back from blurting it out. He’d been begging you to get it done, always reassuring you that you didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to, but that it was his favorite piercing on a partner.

“Don’t know why,” he’d shrugged when you’d asked him about it, “but I just find it so damn sexy.”

Six weeks before the end of the spring semester, you’d decided to take the leap and do it. You weren’t bad with pain, but you tried to avoid unnecessary interactions with needles. Squeezing your eyes tight, you’d only winced slightly when it made contact with your skin, and before you knew it, there was a shiny silver barbell adorning your navel.

And now you were back in Eddie’s trailer after he’d picked you up from the airport, twirling you in his arms as soon as he spotted you in the crowd. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, and he hadn’t even seen your new body jewelry yet.

“So,” you smirk knowingly, straddling his waist as he lays back on his bed. “I have a little surprise for you.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and grins. “Is it your boobs? Because, technically, that would be two surprises.”

“Take off my shirt and see for yourself.”

He wastes no time, lifting the black tank top above your head, his gaze instinctually falling on the curve of your breasts.

And then he sees it.

His eyes widen, and a goofy grin spreads across his face. “Holy shit,” he says through his awestruck laughter. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Sure is,” you murmur, leaning in to trail soft kisses down his neck. “You like it?”

You watch his tongue poke out slightly; he licks his lips and chuckles again. “Fucking hell, babe. I love it. I love you,” he clarifies, starting to rub his thumb over the barbell before immediately drawing back. “Shit, can I touch it? Does…does it hurt?”

You shake your head, scooting even closer towards him. “It’s healed now. Got it done right after I went back to school after spring break. You can touch it all you want.”

That’s all Eddie needs to hear; he wraps one tattooed arm around the small of your back and quickly flips you over, so you’re now looking up at him. He grabs at your waist and kisses your stomach, nipping and biting hungrily. He pulls away to take in the sight of you, sighing contentedly. If he could dream up the perfect woman, she wouldn’t even come close to you.

His fingers fumble with the button of your denim shorts, tugging them down along with your panties. “Gotta taste you, please,” he mumbles. It catches you off-guard; he’s unusually needy today. You just nod, resting your head against his pillow as he licks a stripe up your folds. His lips wrap around your clit, but his gaze remains trained on the belly button ring.

“Fuck, Eddie. Feels s’good,” you moan, arching your back as he pushes his middle finger into your pussy. The scruff of his stubble grazes your inner thighs as he devours you. A mix of his spit and your slick trickles down your core, and he eagerly laps it up. “‘Nother finger?”

You purposely omit the please, anticipating his retaliation. Sometimes he’ll just remind you to use your manners, but if he’s feeling particularly dominant, he’ll edge you until you’re on the brink of tears. So you’re more than taken aback when you feel the slight stretch of a second finger inside you.

“Whatever you want, you can fuckin’ have it,” he growls, curling both fingers and making that come hither motion that drives you wild. “Jus’ wanna make you cum over and over again, pretty girl. Even prettier with that belly button ring, sh-shit.”

All you can manage is another wanton moan as Eddie’s hand and mouth bring you to your orgasm. You’re chanting his name like the most beautiful prayer, finishing all over him.

“Y’good?” he asks, only removing his fingers from your soaking wet cunt once you give a breathy yes. He sucks on the digits, releasing them with a wet pop. “You even taste perfect. ‘S not fair.” He pauses for a moment, watching your heaving chest as you float down into your post-orgasm bliss. “C-Can I be inside you? Please?”

You scrunch up your nose, feigning confusion. “You just were inside me,” you tease, sitting up and pressing a kiss to his lips. The remnants of your own slick turn you on even more.

“You know wh-what I mean,” Eddie stammers. He takes your hand and places it over the tented crotch of his jeans. “‘M so hard it hurts, baby. Please, can I give you my cock?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He shucks off his clothes at lightning speed, almost tripping over his own feet as he takes off his pants. The tip of his cock is flushed red and leaking pre-cum, and you lean over to lick it off. “Delicious,” you remark salaciously, and Eddie throws his head back as he fucks his fist and lines himself up with your entrance.

The way he slides inside you fills you to the brim; nothing else matters when you’re full of Eddie. Rolling his hips slowly, the mushroom head hits your sweet spot, making you both groan in ecstasy.

“Look at that thing,” Eddie muses in wonderment, and for a second, you think he’s talking about the way your pussy takes him in, burying him to the hilt, but you realize that he’s still fixated on the jewelry. “Can’t…fuckin’...believe it.”

“Faster, Eds,” you whimper, and he complies easily. “You…can’t believe I got it done?”

He shakes his head, frizzy curls matting to his sweat-streaked cheeks. “Can’t believe you got it done for me.”

“I’d do anything for you, babe.”

His hips snap at a rapid pace, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks. “F-Fuck, I can’t hold out. Gotta cum, please let me cum.”

You nod, your walls clenching around his cock to milk him of every last drop, and you mewl at the sudden loss when he pulls out. He hasn’t done that since you went on the pill; Eddie Munson never passes up the opportunity to fuck you full of his cum.

You’re about to make sure that he’s okay when you feel the warmth of his load painting your stomach, coating your navel–and the ring–in thick, white ropes. Eddie sits there, panting, still holding his dick in his hand.

“Wish I had a camera so I could take a picture of this,” he says, reaching for a tissue and cleaning you off. “You’re the perfect woman, I fuckin’ swear. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be back inside you to get you off, mkay?”

You kiss him, gently biting his lower lip as you pull back. “There’s no rush. I’m home all summer.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to take you to the mall today,” he laments, flopping down beside you.

“For what?”

“Get you some more of those cute little things.” He points to the belly button ring. “And, uh, maybe a camera, too.”

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #requests

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artiststarme · 1 year

Text

Part 2 of the Van Vandalism fic but can be read as a stand-alone. This part was heavily influenced by a comment by @doubleb11 and @zerokrox-blog requesting a boyfriend for Steve lol.

~*~*~*~

Eddie had taken to spending all of his free time at Family Video. He couldn’t help it! Steve was so intoxicating and the more time Eddie spent with him, the more he wanted to hang around. It started with Steve loaning him the Beemer while he tried to raise enough money to replace the tires on his van. Eddie would drop him off at work then speed over to the garage to work his shift before hustling back over to Family Video to pick him up and take him home. Everything was going well and they had a system in place…

Until Eddie found out that Steve sometimes forgot to pack a lunch on his long shifts. So, he had no choice but to add it to his schedule! Every weekday he would; pick up Steve, drop him off at work, go to the garage, take Steve some lunch, go back to the garage to finish his shift, pick up Steve, go out to dinner with him at the diner, take him home, sleep, then repeat.

And what was he supposed to do when his day off didn’t align with Steve’s? Really, the only option he had besides being depressed in his trailer alone was hanging out with Steve at Family Video gossiping about the fellow people of Hawkins. It was a no brainer. He would take a seat up on the counter and talk to Steve while he rewound tapes or processed late fees. Hell, he even organized the shelves a time or two. Eddie thinks he was probably at Family Video more than Robin was and she worked there.

It’s just… Steve was so perfect. He was kind and gentle and understanding. His kind actions spit in the face of what he used to be like in high school and it caused Eddie’s schooltime crush to return with a vengeance. It wasn’t like it was before in which Eddie would pine hopelessly and flee whenever Steve so much as looked at him. Now, being with Steve felt almost attainable and it filled Eddie with a hopeful joy he’d never experienced before.

It was just another weekday that Eddie strolled into the video store to once again drop off lunch to Steve on his lunch break. He had an hour lunch and you better believe he was going to spend at least half of it with Steve (and the other half driving to and from work). The man in question looked up at the sound of the bell chiming and rolled his eyes humorously. “What are you doing here? I know for a fact that you have appointments until six today.”

Eddie grinned at him and detailed boisterously, “I’m bringing you lunch! You didn’t bring one with you today when I picked you up so I decided to display my unending gratitude with a bountiful harvest of nourishment!”

Steve’s eyes squinted and his lips pursed as he tried to decipher his words. After a moment of silence, Eddie took pity on him and smirked. “I brought you lunch, dude. It’s the least I can do.”

He shook his head, “you don't owe me shit. It’s a favor and you don’t deserve to have to walk everywhere because some prick slashed your tires.”

“Agree to disagree. You gonna eat it or not?” Eddie waived off his explanation, he’d been hearing it every single time he brought him lunch, and raised an eyebrow in askance.

“What is it?” Steve asked him, trying to take a peak of the brown paper bag where Eddie was hiding it behind his back.

“Uncle Wayne’s famous chili, he made some for us last night.”

“Ooo, pass it over.” Eddie handed him the Tupperware container of chili as well as a spoon. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to stick around and talk to Steve while he ate. He still had to replace an alternator in a Chevy today so he had to get back to the garage.

“Alright man, I’m heading out. I’ll come back around 6:30 and we can hang until your shift ends. How’s the chili?”

Steve literally moaned as he ate a spoonful of the hearty soup which shocked Eddie enough for him to trip on air and fall over. He face-planted on the ground and just laid there for a second. What. The. Fuck. Thankfully, Steve was too busy being enamored with his bowl of chili to pay Eddie any attention.

“Mmmm, dude this is delicious! Now I owe you one because this is the best chili I have ever tasted. How about I close early tonight and you take me on a date at seven?” Steve said, looking Eddie directly in the eye as he spooned another spoonful of chili into his mouth.

Oh my god, it's everything Eddie had ever wanted in life. Has he died and gone to heaven? “Abso-fucking-lutely! Stevie, big boy, I would fucking love to go on a date with you! I’ll be here!”

“I would hope so, you’re my ride!” Steve laughed. “Now go, you’re going to be late. I’ll see you tonight.”

All Eddie could do was beam at him and nod his head rapidly up and down. “Okay!”

As he raced back to the garage to finish his shift, he only had one thought. He owed Wayne so much for making that chili. Because that chili finally allowed him to seduce Steve Harrington.

Permanent tag list:@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach

#The Party notices them spending more time together but think they're just really good friends #Robin finds them making out in Steve's car later and Eddie drives away despite Steve's pleads for him to stop #Eddie tells Wayne that his chili brought them together and he tears up #He rubs it in their faces biweekly and puts it in his speech for their wedding #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #robin buckley

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redlegumes · 5 months

Text

Dec 10th: Never Forgot My First Kiss

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

Summary: Reminiscing on first kisses after another first between Steve, Eddie, and their bedsheets

For the smut before this ficlet, check out my submission for today's Steddiemas prompt here

(づ￣ ³￣)づ

“It couldn't have been more awkward.”

“What? No. I thought my seven minutes in heaven with Elsie May Munson was one for the record books.”

“Maybe. The page on firsts and failures,” Eddie scoffed.

Steve rolled his eyes. “You were the one who couldn't relax. The second that bottle spun to you you sat up as stiff as a board.”

“I was still in shock that I'd been invited to Alexis's birthday at all! Lil ‘ol trailer trash me.”

“No one thought of you like that.” Steve huffed and brought Eddie in closer to his chest. It was warm under the covers with him. Safe. “You were just really quiet. A little timid.”

“Hah, yeah. Jeez. Blossomed right out of that.”

MATURE Continues after the cut

“Big time.” Steve blushed and twisted one of Eddie’s curls, a small smile on his lips. “If it makes it better for your ‘origin story,’ I'm pretty sure Alexis's mom invited everyone in the 5th grade. So it doesn’t necessarily prove she thought about your eleven year old reputation.”

“Oh thanks,” Eddie replied, sticking his tongue out.

“Anything for you babe.”

Eddie considered letting it drop, but teasing Steve was one of his favorite pastimes. “Still doesn't explain your fish lips in that closet. 7 minutes of mediocrity at best.”

“Hey! It was my first kiss.”

“Mine too!”

Eddie looked into Steve’s smiling eyes as their fake affronted expressions shifted into laughter at one another.

When the laughter eased, Steve traced Eddie’s collarbone with his finger tip. His voice was soft and low. “Y'know, I always knew. When Elsie moved back with her dad and then two years later her 'cousin,' Eddie, came to live permanently with his uncle.”

“Here I thought I had everyone fooled,” Eddie said, shifting lightly. It didn’t make him too uncomfortable to talk about the little person he’d been, at least not with Steve. “Loud, obnoxious Eddie? Literally everything Elsie wasn't. She was always looking for permission, whereas I ask for forgiveness.”

Steve glanced away. “I liked both.” Eddie raised an eyebrow and poked Steve in the cheek till he continued. Steve sighed, “Elsie always had her head in a book. The covers looked so exciting, but you know me and reading.” Eddie gave a small nod. “And that pretty, curly, dark hair always pushed back from her face.”

“Jesus Christ, I almost forgot the headbands.” Eddie chuckled and shook his head.

Steve’s hand wandered up to Eddie’s chin, his fingers rested along Eddie’s jaw. Steve’s gaze had grown heavy. “Never forgot my first kiss Eddie. Or that little scar right under your chin, or the shade of brown your eyes are. Just like chocolate.”

Eddie squirmed a little under the weight of Steve’s affection. Sometimes it was hard to be under that spotlight, even if it was just the two of them, holed up in Steve’s bedroom. “What took you so long to come after me then?”

Steve’s lips twisted a bit. “I was under the impression you didn't want to be found. Especially by me.”

“Yeah, I guess that's true.” Eddie's hand wandered over Steve's skin, still mostly under the covers, protected from the much chillier air around them. “Glad we cleared that up. Are you um… are you glad my first with a guy was you?”

Steve snorted. “I could say the same damn thing.”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie let his hand wander down and brushed the tip of Steve's cock. He adored the flash of surprise and want it created on Steve’s face.

Steve brought Eddie’s mischievous hand over his heart. “First kiss I'll treasure always. But first fucks?” He shrugged. “That can get a little slut shame-y, I guess?”

“Oh! Here's where that Harrington charm runs out,” Eddie laughed. He quickly turned his smile to a pout, batting his eyelashes. “Not the virginity thing or whatever it's supposed to mean, bases or notches. What I really meant to say was this first for ‘us.’ Like this, are you…” Eddie paused; he didn't feel like asking for reassurance, but it was what he wanted to hear. Luckily, that seemed to click for Steve.

“Eds!” Steve's eyes widened, and he ran a hand through Eddie's hair. “Yes, gorgeous. This was everything I… Eddie I already want you just, all the damn time. This was so good, you're fucking perfect.”

“Yeah?” Eddie smiled shyly. “Perfect? I thought I was the devil.”

“You are a devil.” Steve's face scrunched up with concern. “I thought you liked when I, wait. Are you messing with me?”

“No.” Their legs slotted together. Eddie pressed his cock against Steve's thigh, already wet. “Maybe a little.”

Steve snaked one arm around Eddie’s waist, holding him in place and began to tickle Eddie. He brushed the light stubble on his chin against Eddie's chest as Eddie struggled to get his hands to tickle Steve’s stomach. They eventually stopped for breath, and Steve relaxed into Eddie’s hold this time, nuzzling along Eddie's neck. “What if I said I wanted you to be my last first,” he whispered. It sounded like a secret. As if Eddie didn't feel the exact same way.

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

And...

they're not even dating!

JUST KIDDING

One hundred percent, Eddie's been parading around his sweetheart, acting like he converted Steve to every dark side for months.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddieholidaydrabbles #first kiss #first time #i write things #ftm eddie munson #trans #trans masc eddie munson #post smut #but still a lil smutty #7 minutes in heaven

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f10werfae · 1 year

Text

Secret Sex Tape

pairing: Tom Holland x Mackie!Reader

-Requests are open/Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

(This is short but hopefully it’s sweet enough to your liking)

Full Masterlist, Taglist Form Tom

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Nah man stay away from my niece, it’s weird” Anthony laughed taking a sip of beer around the table on set, watching Tom’s eyes follow Y/n around the set. Anthony luckily had gotten his niece an internship with the camera team on set, giving her the experience she needed for the career she oh so dearly wanted.

“Mate I didn’t even say anything” Tom whined, being teased for the hundredth time today, especially after Anthony found out about Tom's not so little crush on his niece, Y/n Mackie.

“Holland she’d never go for you, trust” Mackie laughed setting down his glass bottle, hearing his name being called from the set, leaving behind a smirking Holland who was now leaning back onto his seat before pushing himself up to stand up to walk towards his trailer

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“You took too long Tommy” Y/n whined tucking herself in more into Tom’s bed, nodding her head further into the soft plush cushion he had gotten specifically for her.

“Sorry babe, you know your uncle will literally kill me if he catches us, you know that right?”

Tom laughed watching Y/n pout, flipping up his side of the bed Tom slipped in beside her, pulling her body flush up against his.

“I’m naked Tommy bar my shorts” Y/n laughed throwing her arms around his neck, caging her legs around his waist to wrap herself around him like a koala.

“Mhm I know” He smirked pushing her chest against his even more, feeling her hardened nipples brush up against his chest, a satisfied smile coming up on his face. Y/n scoffed slightly, getting used to her boyfriend being such a perverted asshole, after all it’s already been 7 months.

“How long we gotta keep this secret” She whispered pulling the sheets over her and Tom’s head, her hands resting on the nape of his neck and playing with his unruly baby curls. His face hidden into the crook of her neck, inhaling her deep coconut scent,

“I dunno baby, i’m happy with what you wanna do, but just know your uncle will kill me” He chuckled moving one of his hands down to slip them under her velvet shorts, groping one of her cheeks in his hand almost like it was for his own comfort. Y/n leant down and kissed Tom’s forehead, rubbing his arm as he peppered soft kisses all over her chest lovingly; making sure to leave marks wherever he could.

“I-I wanna tell him Tom, I want to be able to go on actual dates with you and tell my family that you’re my boyfriend. I’m sick of sneaking around, even though it is exhilarating”

“Hmm alright if that’s what you want lovie, i’ll stand behind you on that. I dont even know why he’s so against it?” Tom huffed

“Baby he’s against every boy i’ve ever let him meet-“

“Hold on what boys? You told me I was your first proper boyfriend” Tom interrupted looking up at his girlfriend, absolutely awestruck by her beauty, “Well yeah you are, doesn’t mean he hasn’t met my guy friends”

Poking both of their heads out from under the covers, Y/n leaned forward and pushed her lips against Tom’s for a soft sensual kiss, his hands both going to settle on the backs of her thighs to pull her on top of him.

“H-hey babe, you know that uh movie we made? A few weeks ago? I was wonderin’ if you could send me a copy”

“You mean the sex tape?”

“Shush don’t say it so loudly, Mackie has the ears of an eagle” Tom scolded watching his girlfriend’s lips pull up into a teasing smile before falling into one of shock,

“what is it love?”

“T-the movie, it’s on the camera I lent to the Russo-“

“Fuck FUCK FUCK” Tom screamed rushing out of the bed, not even sparing a second glance as he ran towards the current set

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @vrittivsanghavi @tinyelfperson @fdl305 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @aerangi @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry

#romance #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot

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dragonmama76 · 9 months

Text

Unhappy Birthday

rated: T | cw: unspecified trauma

Steve has been sitting in his BMW outside Eddie’s trailer for at least ten minutes now. Eddie must know he’s there, but has made no sign to let Steve know he’s welcome. And Steve deserves that. It isn’t as though Steve doesn’t know this is all his fault. Sure he had good intentions when he planned a surprise birthday party for Eddie, but Eddie had been pretty clear that he didn’t want his birthday celebrated. Steve stupidly hadn’t bothered to figure out why that was. He had just decided that Eddie was shy about being celebrated or maybe didn’t know how much people loved him. Steve was an idiot.

Eddie knows Steve is sitting in his car and he doesn’t care. It’s his 21st birthday and all he can think about is how mortified he was when Steve opened the door and the whole party plus the guys from the band jumped out yelling, “Surprise” while Eddie burst into hot, angry tears. He could not have been MORE clear with Steve that his birthday was off limits. Okay, maybe he hadn’t exactly been honest about why he didn’t celebrate, but that shouldn’t have mattered, right? Eddie doesn’t know, but right now all he wants is to disappear for 24 hours and reappear with this day never having happened.

Twenty minutes have passed with neither man making a move towards the other. Steve is in the car and Eddie is wrapped in a blanket on the couch safely cocooned but utterly aware that Steve is out there paralyzed by the fear of making things worse. Finally, Eddie can’t take it anymore. Steve either has to come in or leave. He springs off the couch and opens the door with some force and stumbles back when he finds Steve standing there, first raised as if to knock. Both men have red eyes and the whisper of tear tracks ghosting their cheeks.

Steve is white as a sheet and his hands are trembling holding something out to Eddie, “I’m so sorry, baby. I fucked everything up so bad, but I made your favorite cake and I want you to have it even if you don’t want me anymore.” Steve would be embarrassed by the sob that chokes out at the end, but he’s so deep in emotion that he almost doesn’t notice it happening.

“You didn’t…” Eddie feels like he can’t breathe. “You’re not the problem. You literally went out of your way to do something nice for me and I’m so fucked in the head that I can’t even like it. Can’t even pretend.” He breaks off with a sob of his own and flees inside. Steve follows him, depositing the cake on the kitchen table and hovers close.

“Can…can I hold you” hesitantly Steve reaches out and Eddie exhales as he crumples into his arms all the tension flowing out of him. They stand and sway while Steve rubs circles on his back murmuring, “It’s okay, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Eventually the storm subsides and Eddie manages to croak out, “I love you and I want to talk about it, but not today, okay?” Steve nods sadly and makes to leave but Eddie grabs his wrist, “Stay? Please?” Steve gathers Eddie back up in his arms and moves towards the couch. He’s about to sit when Eddie hesitantly whispers, “Don’t forget the cake.”

#steddie #misconceptions #so sad but they make up and it's happily ever after #projecting #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson has trauma #steve harrington wants to fix it

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posh--bee · 2 years

Text

care to join us? || Eddie Munson & Chrissy Cunningham

pairing → Eddie Munson x fem!Reader x Chrissy Cunningham

summary → Eddie walks into his trailer on a Friday night after a long DnD session only to find you, his best friend, and Chrissy Cunningham making out on his bed, both of you too occupied with each other to notice him.

warnings → smut (18+ only), afab!Reader, just girls having some fun together and Eddie walking in on them, but other than that just pwp, voyeurism and exhibitionism, thigh riding, fingering, mentions of drug use, no specific label used for Reader’s or Chrissy’s sexuality, no y/n used

author’s note → Just wanted to try writing something smutty about Chrissy x Reader x Eddie so here we are. I don’t have much experience with writing smut so let me know what you think about it! <3

word count → 2.3k

masterlist

There were many things Eddie expected to see after coming home from this evening’s Hellfire Club meeting. You and Chrissy on the couch of his trailer watching some chick flick that he had to suffer the ending of because his campaign took so long. Or maybe the two of you having retreated to his room and waiting for him there, sitting on his bed and smoking a joint you had rolled from the good stuff he had to hide in different places whenever you came over but somehow always found anyway.

What he didn’t expect to see when he pushed the door of his room open was you and Chrissy lying on his bed, both still in your short skirts you had worn to school today but your shirts and bras somewhere on the floor joining his own mess, the strawberry blonde on top of you and groping your boobs while one of your legs was pressed between her thighs, both of you moaning when your lips connected in a passionate but messy kiss, your tongue slipping into Chrissy’s mouth.

Eddie all but froze standing in the doorway, his big brown eyes wide as saucers as he took in the scene in front of him which put every single of his wet dreams to absolute shame—because this was real, and happening right in front of him in his own bed.

He couldn’t move, just stood there rooted to his spot by the door, his mouth hanging open in mesmerized disbelief, his cheeks and ears turning red while he watched one of your hands sneak under Chrissy’s short cheerleading skirt and grab her ass, shamelessly licking into her mouth, drawing the filthiest yet sweetest sounds from her while you pressed your thigh more insistently between her legs.

This was definitely not how Friday nights usually went for the three of you. After Hellfire, Eddie would either go to your place or his where Chrissy and you would already wait for him, always arriving later than he had promised you, and together you would watch a shitty movie or two and just talk about whatever came to mind, maybe smoking a joint and laughing about the silliest things, snuggling close to each other when you would eventually grow tired and wake up the next morning a tangled mess of limbs and hair (mostly Eddie’s) with sleepy but soft smiles on all of your faces.

But this—this was something else entirely and Eddie had no idea what he was supposed to do now.

Should he leave and give you and Chrissy some privacy, even though you two were literally hooking up in his bed?

Or should he just make his presence known, probably turning this night into a very, very awkward one for the three of you?

What he definitely shouldn’t do was to stand there in the doorway, watching his two friends make out without them noticing like some pervert—and yet here he was, not making a sound or moving a muscle, just staring at you and Chrissy and clearly enjoying the show, his erection pressing uncomfortably against his dark jeans.

Eddie had to bite his lip hard to keep quiet and not get himself caught when Chrissy suddenly moaned your name, her hands now gripping your shoulders to hold herself upright, grinding desperately against your thigh while your own hands were on her hips, guiding her movements.

“That’s it, Chrissy. Just like that,” you praised her, your voice rough and breathless and something about it made Eddie’s own breathing hitch in his throat. His teeth sank deeper into his bottom lip and he could faintly taste blood on his tongue but he didn’t care about it at all, not when he could see your mouth closing around one of Chrissy’s nipples and sucking on it, making the cheerleader on top of you arch her back beautifully.

You chuckled adoringly when you let go of her boob with a wet ‘pop’, looking up at her with a fond expression on your face and raising one hand to her flushed cheek, gently tucking a few loose strands of her strawberry blond hair behind her ear.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” you whispered, almost too quiet for Eddie to hear, caressing her heated skin with your thumb. Chrissy’s hips stilled when your lips met hers in a slow and sweet kiss, happily humming into it before parting again and affectionately rubbing your nose against hers. Chrissy giggled softly and then pecked your nose, causing a laugh to bubble up in your chest.

Eddie had always expected something like this to happen sooner or later. As your best friend he had known about your attraction to girls for about as long as you had, supporting you through the confusion and excitement that a realization like this could create. After having started to sell to Chrissy and having gotten to know her better, who in turn had become friends with you as well, she had timidly told Eddie and you that she also was curious about being with a girl, always had been.

So Chrissy and you hooking up was not really a surprise for Eddie considering how good the two of you got along, the timing and location of it however definitely was—as well as the strange feeling stirring in his chest at seeing Chrissy and you this intimate with each other. It wasn’t exactly jealousy, because he wouldn’t even know which one of you he would be jealous of, it was a longing for something he hadn’t realized he actually wanted before, so he shoved the feeling down, too overwhelmed with the situation as it was to deal with whatever this could mean.

His big brown eyes stayed on the two of you when your kisses started to get heated again, your hands back on Chrissy’s hips to help her movements against your leg, the noises that slipped past your lips and mingled in the close space between your faces like sinful music to his ears.

Eddie could feel his cock twitch in his pants when Chrissy let out a high-pitched moan, grinding faster and faster against you, a thin layer of sweat glistening on the naked expanse of her back. Your hands came up to play with her tits, pinching and rolling her nipples between your fingers and staring at her above you, completely captivated by her pretty face contorted in pure bliss.

“I’m so close, please—!” Chrissy whimpered and your sweet but strained voice encouraged her to keep going, your dark pupils drinking in this desperate angel in your lap chasing her relief against your bare thigh, eager to finally see her come undone with your help.

With a cry of your name her legs tensed around yours, hips stuttering as she reached her high, throwing her head back in pleasure, a broken moan tumbling from her kiss-swollen lips. She didn’t stop grinding against you until the sensation became too much, all but collapsing on top of you with a sigh of exhaustion, her legs visibly shaking as she hid her face in your neck, whimpering with overstimulation when you playfully pressed your thigh to her center. You didn’t tease her again, instead whispered an apology into her sweaty hair and let your fingertips graze up and down her spine, drawing random patterns onto her skin.

Standing by the door unmoving, Eddie himself felt like fainting, his knees moments before giving out under him because he just witnessed Chrissy Cunningham having an orgasm by riding his best friend’s thigh in his bed, while both of you were still completely oblivious of his presence in the room. He swallowed, his throat dry and his cock impossible hard and arching in the confinement of his jeans, praying to whatever god (or demon) that might take pity on him that Chrissy and you wouldn’t take notice of him now and to give him a chance to flee the scene at last.

You gently coaxed Chrissy’s face out of the croak of your neck, smiling widely at her before giving her a series of sweet kisses, taking her bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling lightly on it, drawing low noises from the cheerleader.

“You okay?” you asked her, sounding undeniably proud of yourself but still concerned about the girl on top of you, brushing away the soaked strands of her bangs to kiss her forehead, laughing quietly when Chrissy insisted on returning to her previous position, her nose pressed against your sensitive neck, her breath tickling you every time she exhaled.

“Mh-hm,” she hummed in response and you contented yourself with her answer, pressing your face into her hair, inhaling her sweet and alluring scent mixing with the coconut shampoo that she always used and that you (and Eddie) absolutely loved.

Your eyes fell closed for a few moments, enjoying the weight and warmth of your friend (or girlfriend?) cuddling close to you, giving Eddie the perfect chance to finally escape, slipping out of his own room in silence without you ever knowing what he had just seen. But still he stayed, his feet refusing to move even an inch—and then the inevitable happened.

Your eyes opened again with pupils still blown wide, looking over to him and directly into his brown eyes, pinning Eddie to the spot who felt his heart plummet to his feet. His mouth opened and closed in a feeble attempt to apologize, to save the unlikely friendship that bound the three of you together, but you just grinned cheekily at him before whispering something into Chrissy’s ear that he couldn’t understand.

With cold terror cursing through his veins, he watched the strawberry blonde lazily turn her head in his direction by the door, a blissful smile on her pretty pink lips as she waved—fucking waved at him over her shoulder. He didn’t know what to do at all, not being prepared for this kind of reaction when his two friends had caught him watching them having sex without their knowledge.

Still petrified, Eddie remained where he was, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every second that passed, his short nails biting into his own palms at how hard his hands were balled into fists by his side. He tried to speak up again, hating how pathetic he felt at this moment, wishing that he were anywhere but here, wishing that his truck had broken down on his way to his trailer, whishing—

That was until you made Chrissy get up from you, gently but firmly pushing against her shoulders, earning yourself a dissatisfied grumble and an incredible mean stare from her before you said something indistinguishable into her ear, making her brilliant blue eyes light up and she nodded enthusiastically. She gave you room to sit up against the headboard of his bed, his pillows supporting your back, opening your bare legs so Chrissy could settle between them, her own back now pressing to your front and her naked chest on display for him.

He stared at the changing scene in front of him, completely dumbfounded by it, stared at your hands cupping Chrissy’s tits and playing with them, your lips kissing and sucking on her neck, leaving red and purple marks in their wake that stood out against her pale skin. Chrissy’s eyes fell closed when one of your hands brushed down her stomach, past her navel and under her skirt and the waistband of her pretty lace panties, your fingers running through her soaked folds before drawing lazy circles against her sensitive bundle of nerves, her eyebrow knitting together and her lips pressing into a thin line to keep her voice down.

You kissed her jaw while drawing your hand back, slick fingers pulling at the green skirt of her cheerleading uniform, murmuring against her soft skin, “Let’s take this off, yeah? Give Eddie a good show, baby.”

You smirked at Eddie as Chrissy quickly slid off her skirt and panties, throwing them to the rest of your clothes on his bedroom floor, now sitting completely naked on his bed before opening her legs wide, delicately placing her feet on the other side of your own legs, giving him the perfect view of her bare pussy, glistening with her arousal.

Chrissy gave Eddie a coy smile causing him to swear under his breath, captivated by this sinful sight in front of him, but his feet were still rooted to the spot. He didn’t dare to move further into the room even now, not knowing if the two of you actually wanted him to come closer, not knowing what you had planned for him and what he was allowed to do.

You on the other hand didn’t waste any time continuing where you had left off, all your attention on the pretty cheerleader leaning against you again, your dominant hand returning to her pussy and playing with her clit before teasing her entrance. Without further warning, you pushed two of your fingers into her wet heat, curling them expertly and setting a steady rhythm, making Chrissy’s eyes roll back in pleasure. One of her arms reached behind you, her fingers threading into your hair at the back of your head, her face pressed to your cheek, hips grinding into the heel of your hand while moaning shamelessly, taking everything you gave her but still asking for more with pleas and whines falling from her lips.

You didn’t stop your movements, even quickening the pace of your hand when you looked up, meeting Eddie’s brown eyes with an innocent smile while Chrissy fell apart in your lap the second time this night, her pretty moans almost drowning out your voice which was playful and far too composed for everything that was happening.

“Care to join us, pretty boy?”

#eddie munson x reader #chrissy cunningham x reader #eddie munson smut #chrissy cunningham smut #stranger things smut #chrissy x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer #hellcheer x reader #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #stranger things x reader #stranger things #smut #one shot

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sherifftillman · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Nancy Wheeler (Edancy)

Genre: fluff

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so maybe I'm the clown for thinking that putting a "short blurb request" prompt for my 2k follower celebration would actually help me keep things concise and maybe I can never shut the fuck up but finally, she's here. @heroeddiemunson sorry for the wait lol, but here's your "tunnel of love" request for edancy <3

Nancy lets out a disgruntled breath as she puts her car into park and turns off the engine. As if finals weren’t enough of a stressor, on top of finally breaking up with her long-distance boyfriend, of course Mike had to go and get himself detention and of course Mike forgot to pick up something for his latest D&D campaign and of course Mike left it until the last minute to remember he needed it before the session and so of course Nancy has to play courier. What else could she possibly be doing with all this spare time everyone just assumes she has?

Getting out of the car, and taking a deep breath of the freshest air the trailer park can offer to recompose herself, Nancy stands tall and heads over to the door of the Munson trailer, rapping her knuckles against it three times sharply. She expects a quick and easy transaction with Eddie, that he must be expecting Mike anyway so it’ll only be a few minutes. Then it’s back to the library once again. So she jumps up in alarm when a far more weathered face greets her instead. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr Munson!”

“’S Wayne,” he grunts sleepily. “’M not your teacher.”

“R-right, again, so sorry. Um, I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything? I was just trying to find Eddie, I’m here on behal-”

Wayne’s tired face lights up at that. “Oh, you are here for the boy? Come on in, I’ll go get him,” he shuffles back with the door as he pulls it open.

“Oh, please, Miste- Wayne, I’m not here to stay, I just need to get something from him -”

“No, I insist, come on in! It’s gonna take a minute or two before he even realises I’m in the room with those damn things on his head, and the sun’s mighty vicious today,” he shields his eyes and looks up at the clear blue sky.

The knowledge of how to truly win an argument, Nancy had learned in her years, also comes with knowing when to back down. And she was not going to win against Wayne Munson. She steps carefully over the threshold as Wayne heads into what she assumes is Eddie’s room. She studies the alarming amount of mugs and caps that adorn the walls with great interest as the thin walls of the trailer betray the confidentiality of the men’s conversation.

“Boy. Bo- Boy!”

“Okay, ow, what the hell? Why’d you smack me?!”

“I didn’t smack you, I smacked those goddamn soup bowls off your head. There something you wanna tell me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew it. All this I’m not going to prom, old man. When were you going to tell me you found yourself a date, huh?”

“I have no clue what you’re -”

“Cute, too! Seems a little, uh, how do I put it? She’d be good for you.”

“Here we go again.”

“Look, I’m sorry, kid, I just… You’ve never had it easy, and I just wanna see you have at least one normal high school experience, is that too much to ask?”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, old man, but I’m still very much repulsive, thanks.”

“Have you not been listening?! Tell that to the girl that’s literally waiting in the other room.”

“Wha-?”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll step out, give you two some privacy. You know, you really are cutting it fine, leaving it so short notice before the dance.”

“You look like you just woke up, you’re in your bathro-”

The door wrenches open, and Nancy quickly turns her focus onto a mug shaped like Garfield as Wayne rushes out with a, "Please pardon me, I'm just going to - I just remembered I have to - Edward!" is the last thing he shouts over his shoulder as the front door swings shut behind him.

Softly laughing under her breath, Nancy looks over at where he had emerged from to see Eddie leaning himself against the doorway. "The elusive Elder Wheeler? To what am I owed the pleasure?"

Nancy scoffs and rolls her eyes, "I literally just came here on Mike's orders, he wants some… Character, thing, I don't-"

"Ah, the paladin wants his character pack. Leaving it a little late," he notes with a frown.

"Yeah, well, that's my brother," Nancy comments with an air of impatience.

Eddie cocks his head to lean against the frame, too. "What's the rush, Wheels?"

Taking a moment to silently mouth the nickname judgingly, Nancy shakes her head. "Finals week? Ring any bells?" He scrunches half of his face up, scratching at his unobscured temple.

She shakes her head at him, a laugh of disbelief under her breath, and he grins, "Oh, please, there is no way in hell that you, Nancy Wheeler, have to worry about finals. I bet you’re a shoo-in for all the big ones, Harvard and Yale must be cat-fighting over you.” He holds his hands in claws and moves them around to illustrate his point.

Nancy feels her cheeks flush warm at the thought. “I’m already going to Emerson, yes, but I need to set an expectation of myself.”

“So, set it low and then wow them when you’re there,” he shrugs, as though it’s the easiest solution in the world. Nancy tuts at him, but that damn smile just won’t leave her face. Eddie shoves himself away from the doorframe and gestures towards his bedroom, inviting Nancy over. “I promise, it’s decent in here, I thi- Oh,” he ducks his head around and kicks his leg somewhere that Nancy can’t see before looking back over at her and beaming, “Okay, now it’s decent.”

“Really, I just need whatever Mike’s supposed to get, I -” Feeling defeated for the second time in the space of minutes, Nancy stands tentatively in the doorway, her eye immediately catching the record player sitting on the floor with giant headphones resting next to it. She chuckles, “So that’s what he meant by soup bowls.”

“You journalists just can’t keep your ears to yourself, huh?” Though Eddie’s head is buried in a cardboard box that looks as though it’s tied together with nothing but spite in and of itself, Nancy can hear the smirk in his voice. “Sorry that the old man assumed you were… Y’know.”

“Oh, don’t even - it’s fine,” Nancy waves her hand, regardless of its total redundancy to an obscured Eddie. “Though I’m a little intrigued what he thinks you’re yet to experience out of high school after that long.”

“Okay, firstly, ouch. Contrary to what people say about sticks and stones, words can hurt too, Wheeler,” Eddie stands tall, one hand full of a paper binder wrapped in elastic bands, the other splayed across his chest in mock offence. He then sighs, “He thinks I oughta go to prom. I heard him talking on the phone to, uh.” He starts clicking his fingers over and over. “What’s the name of that kid with the glasses on the paper? His mom.”

Nancy politely hides the laughter that bubbles from her lips with her hand. “Why would Fred Benson’s mom be calling Wayne?”

“Her husband works with him at the plant, and she cooks meals for us both because she doesn’t think either of us know what a vegetable is,” he shrugs, while very obviously, very poorly fighting off a large smile. “But from what I could tell, I think ol’ Freddie’s got a little proposal of his own in mind for prom night,” he singsongs coyly, waggling his eyebrows at her. Nancy groans, her face deflating, and Eddie cackles. “Aw, c’mon, it’s not like he’d even have a shot anyway, right? Is, uh… Byers coming down, too?”

Nancy winces painfully. “Uh, no. No, he’s not. We’re not…” She tries to look around for something to distract her, settling on knitting her eyebrows at a sealed loaf of bread that’s sitting on the floor.

“Oh! Sorry. To hear that, and also bring it up, I guess? I dunno, I’m not really good at the whole… Y’know. There’s obviously a reason why Wayne’s practically marrying me off to the first girl to cross this threshold in god-knows-how-long,” Eddie rambles awkwardly.

Nancy breathes out a laugh through her nose. "It's whatever," she shakes her head. "I'm probably not even gonna get to go, anyway."

Eddie's eyes widen in shock. "Hawkins High's top reporter, not attending the biggest event of the year?! Surely you don't need a date."

"I don't," she states plainly. "But my dad's been all, no daughter of mine is going to a dance alone! And for once, Mom's decided to be a united front with him, so…" She half-shrugs. "Besides, even if I did go dateless, I'm sure Fred's still gonna glue himself to my hip, anyway," she adds exasperatedly, pulling a face.

Eddie could never have predicted that he was about to witness the most beautiful sight of his life. He would never have even guessed what that sight would have been. He'd never understood the analogy of a lightbulb referring to having an idea until he watched Nancy Wheeler illuminate right in front of him. Her posture straightens, the picture of elegance. Her mouth moves slightly, quickly, silently, her eyes squint every few beats, her nose scrunches every fewer. She pauses for half a second, eyes glanced to one side as her lips push out to the other, and then she nods.

She takes a deep breath, about to start presenting her argument, when Eddie interrupts. "You about to ask me to prom, Wheels? 'M flattered."

She looks at him indignantly. "How did you -?"

"It makes the most sense, right?" he asks. "We both get something out of it: you get to go to prom, simultaneously keeping your parents happy while also pissing them off because, well," he gestures to himself. "I get to give the old man what he wants, for once. You have a failsafe against Benson. And your brother's face is gonna be priceless."

She shakes her head in defeat, “Alright, you got me. I didn’t even think of that last one, that’s three to one in my favour, I guess.”

“Eh, let’s call it three to two,” Eddie turns his nose up. “Little Wheels deserves a little payback from that one stupid nat 20 perception check that overrode three sessions' worth of writing.”

Nancy giggles, “Must be a family thing. Dustin didn’t talk to me for three weeks when I figured out who his main big bad guy was.”

Eddie’s face once again falls into shock. “You’ve played?! How is this the first I’m hearing of this?!”

Nancy’s Casio watch beeps at her, telling her it’s time to go pick up Mike. With a modest smile, she reaches over and takes her brother’s character pack from Eddie, tucking her chin into her shoulder as she says, “Maybe I’ll tell you next Friday.”

Eddie watches in awe as she takes one more moment to contemplate the whole bread thing, swivels around on her heel and walks out of the door purposefully. He blows out a breath he didn’t know he was holding back, shifting his bangs around his forehead.

Eddie Munson’s about to take Nancy Wheeler to the prom.

~~~

“Hey, sweetie! How was your… Thing, tonight? Kill any bad guys?” Karen Wheeler asks her son, who’s already running up the stairs.

“Oh my god, Mom, I already told you, today was the first session of a new cam- Nancy! You home?!” Mike shouts as he continues to stomp through the second floor of the house.

“I’m down here with Mom,” she calls back to him, and he groans in anguish.

“Then get up here! I’m not walking up and down again!”

Karen’s brow furrows. “Now, why on earth does your brother want to see you so bad?”

Nancy smiles coyly. “Why, indeed? I better go find out.”

She finds her brother standing in front of her bedroom. “I’m supposed to give you this? I dunno, what are you even doing with Eddie? He’s actually cool. What, is he paying you to help him cram for his exams?”

“If he’s not telling you, chances are there’s a good reason,” she shrugs, snatching what Mike’s holding from his grip and shoving him out of the way, quickly shutting her door behind her the second she crosses the threshold into her room. She opens the tea-stained envelope with “For Elder Wheeler’s Eyes Only” written on it, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Inside is a written note:

Elder Wheeler,

It seems you and I have been bound by fate to accompany one another on a most dire quest: conforming to the formal societal standards of the true evil cultural event known as “prom”. And so, much like every adventuring party, we must establish some specifics first. Namely:

What colors are you wearing? (Research tells me that the more a party of two matches aesthetically, the more the conformists like it. Which will make your parents hate it even more.)

When should our epic journey start? (Remember, we have to make time to hit all our quest markers at House Wheeler, House Munson and then the dreaded Hawkins HIgh.)

I know that traditionally, the man of a two-person party is the one who plans these things in advance, but I also know enough about you, Elder Wheeler, to assume that you would rather be in charge. And so, I am more than happy to comply with whatever you have planned for us.

I shall await your response from the young Postmaster Wheeler.

Sincerely,Eddie the Banished

The smile on Nancy’s face grows tenfold as she reads it over and over. She describes the dress she has in mind to Eddie in as much detail as she can, tells him to be at the door for 6pm to allow ample time for parent reactions and then the eventual photo-taking before going to Wayne’s for more photos, and then getting to the prom itself.

Shoving the paper back into the envelope and finding a sticker and some tape to hold it back together again, Nancy knocks sharply on the door opposite her own.

Mike emerges with a tired, “Can I help you?”

She holds the envelope out. “I’ll have him tell me if the tape’s been compromised. And I’m sure he’ll make your life hell for it just as much as I will.”

Mike rolls his eyes as he takes it back. “Can’t even have one cool older friend without you ruining everything, jeez,” she hears him mutter under his breath as he shuts the door in her face.

Biting her lip, Nancy pivots back round and practically skips back into her bedroom, swinging the door shut behind her, leaping onto her bed and picking up her landline phone to start dialling her best friends’ phone numbers.

Eddie continues to utilise Mike as his little messenger boy, to the postmaster’s chagrin. One time after borrowing some of Gareth’s art supplies to colour various shades of purple onto a sheet of paper, asking Nancy to circle which is closest to the colour of her chosen dress. One time to ask her if she’s allergic to anything a corsage could be made of. And one time to just send a note that reads, It’s just fun to make young Michael work.

~~~

At 6pm sharp, the door knocks. Four quick taps. Another quick one. A sequence, quick, slow, quick. A final quick one. Nancy smirks as she spells out the Morse code that only one person she’s expecting would be nerdy enough to know — h-e-r-e.

Karen, who has been pestering her daughter over this mystery man she’s been hinting at for the last week or so, practically flies to the door. She pauses for a moment once her hand is on the doorknob, using her free hand to smooth herself down before stepping back with the door as it opens. She’s got her big hostess smile on - which falters the moment she sees that Munson boy on her doorstep. “Oh. Michael! It’s your… Dice and… Dinosaurs friend!”

Nancy, who’d made it to the top of the stairs by this point, hangs back, biting her lip as she watches Mike, with all his fake bravado, stammer, “Oh, uh, hey, Eddie! Wasn’t expecting - what brings you t-?” The rest of his sentence is knocked right out of him as he looks down, Nancy presumes at his outfit. "N- No, no, there's no way, you -" His jaw hangs as he looks up at his sister standing halfway down the stairwell.

Karen swallows hard. “...Ted? Honey? You might wanna come out here and see this.”

Eddie watches everything happen in awe, how Nancy seems to be reacting so nonchalantly over the family reacting in her perfectly orchestrated chaos. Those words shouldn’t even go together, but Nancy Wheeler makes it so.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, rebooting himself, as Nancy joins him at the foot of the stairs. “Looking good, Wheels,” he grins, and she tuts, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t scrub up too badly yourself, Munson,” she leans in to tap him on the nose and he inhales deeply, holding it in for a few beats longer than necessary as she walks past. He follows her as she walks through to the back yard, shouting behind her, “Well! Where’s your camera, Dad? We don’t have all night!”

Eddie bites back the reaction that so badly wants to leave his lips as he sees the backdrop that’s hanging from the branch of a nearby tree. Though he may not know her well at all, even Eddie knows that this has Karen Wheeler written all over it. Nancy holds his arms as she guides him into position, instructing him on how to pose as a very red-faced Ted Wheeler marches out. Through the toothy grin Eddie’s forcefully presenting to the camera, he tells Nancy, “I feel like I look like a penguin in this get-up.”

“Maybe a little,” she mutters back, “but a handsome penguin all the same.”

Laughter brimming in his tone, Eddie asks, “Am I the most handsome penguin? Do I make all the other penguins go…” Suddenly unsure of what sound to make, Eddie makes a squawking sound unheard of from any man or beast. Nancy looks at him with a look of confused bewilderment, and Eddie clears his throat, his face falling into a stoic deadpan as he bashfully admits in a murmur, “I have no idea what a penguin sounds like.”

Nancy laughs, but it’s not the way people usually laugh at him. She’s laughing with him, just as his friends do, except it can take months, if not years for the people he recruits into Hellfire to understand his sense of humour. All he’s really had with Nancy has been the one conversation they had two weeks ago, and a few notes back and forth.

He’s pulled out of that train of thought as a resigned Ted asks, “Are we done here, now?”

And that’s when reality hits. When Nancy is exaggeratedly sweetly smiling, “Come on, Dad, didn’t you want to immortalise your little girl getting taken to her last school dance?” That’s why Eddie feels so connected to her already. Because she’s putting on a show. There’s no reason to believe Nancy actually feels anything herself, she doesn’t even know Eddie. At best, she’s done her research to know just how to make this charade look believable.

So, the very least he can do is owe it to her to not let her down by looking so sombre at his own realisation. A horn sounding from the other side of the house startles everyone except Eddie, who announces, “Our chariot awaits, Elder Wheeler.”

“Wh- You’re not taking that van you drove up in?!” Karen asks.

Eddie tuts, “And have your daughter show up to her senior prom in it?” He shakes his head. “Come on, now, Mrs Wheeler, she deserves better than that, right? My uncle Wayne’s borrowing a Cadillac from someone at the plant for the night, he’s here to take us back to take some photos of his own before he takes us to school. I'm sure you won't mind me keeping that ol' van here in favour of your daughter riding across Hawkins in style.”

Karen loudly hums her dismissal. “Mm-mm, there is no way that my Nancy is walking through a - a trailer park,” she mouths those two words, “when I’ve spent so much time on her looking this good!”

“And might I add what a fine job you’ve done, Mrs Wheels,” Eddie smiles exaggeratedly. Nancy tucks her head behind his arm to let out a small laugh.

This time, it’s Karen’s turn to resemble a human beetroot as she slaps her husband’s shoulder, who groans. “Well, go on then, Karen, invite the man back here and he can take his own damn photos and get outta here!”

The pain of all of this feeling like nothing more than a farce, hits twice as hard for Eddie when he sees how proud his uncle looks of him. He’s even dressed himself in a suit as though he were a real chauffeur. This level of deceit feels far worse than it does knowing that Nancy’s only acting in spite of her family, and yet she’s a natural. She comforts Wayne, asking him if he needs a minute, but the man isn’t stupid, he knows that he’s not welcome in this house a second longer than absolutely necessary. He takes out his old camera, the one held together by scotch tape and sheer determination, and Nancy’s back to directing how they should pose.

Eddie takes a deep breath before smiling into each shot, before eventually cutting himself off with a, “C’mon, now, old man, there’s fashionably late and there’s straight up tardy!”

“Yeah, you know all about that, don’t you, boy?” he asks with raised eyebrows, making himself, Eddie and Nancy laugh. Mike laughs at his words, too, but a clip round the back of the head from his father soon shuts him up again.

Nancy makes small talk with Wayne throughout the entire car ride, and while Wayne constantly makes comments that he keeps including Eddie in, the latter can only bring himself to respond in one-word answers or generic non-committal sounds as he formulates another way to find an excuse to find one more moment with Nancy tonight. Of course, he’s her foolproof back-up for if Fred tries to make an unwanted move on her, but he can’t rely on only being able to approach her while she’s uncomfortable. He remembers them talking about the advantages both of them would have. How she thought she had three pros to his one, but he corrected her to balance it out a little more. But still, Eddie could make the argument that he has one more thing to gain. Maybe he could ask her for a dance. Just to piss off someone who asks him what he’s doing at prom, there’s gotta be at least someone who does that. Yeah. That’s what he’ll do.

Nancy calls out his name as she rifles through her purse, bringing him back to reality. “Brought something for you.” She hands him a folded up photograph, which he unravels with a growing smile on his face until his lips near enough reach his ears. He doesn’t recognise the child in the purple robe, but he can see what looks like a very young Dustin, Lucas and Mike, all dressed up as their characters sitting around the table. The table is littered with a dungeon map, miniature figures and dice of all numbers. And, sat next to Dustin, is a slightly older girl, the nest of curls adorning her head styled in a way that shows off her homemade elf ears, holding the cloak she’s wearing as she’s obviously mid-speaking.

Eddie chuckles under his breath, “You’ve been a player this whole time and didn’t think to hit us up once?!”

“Yeah, I mean, it was just to keep the kids happy. I sort of, half-grew out of it, half-lost interest when it became very obviously Mike’s Thing that he wouldn’t want his older sister anywhere near.” Nancy sighs, “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss Catriona Valthana from time to time.”

“Well, if you ever wanna reprise her, you know where we live,” he gestures to Wayne and himself, and his uncle nods through the rear view mirror.

Nancy laughs, “Maybe. But, I figured, that makes us even now, right?” Eddie looks at her in bafflement, trying to figure out how she was able to read his mind like that, but she mistakes it for confusion. “Y’know, back when we were saying, I was three for your two things we get out of this?” she asks quietly, looking over at Wayne to make sure he couldn’t hear that part. Eddie simply nods sadly, pocketing the photo and patting where it sits in his breast with another fake smile before remaining silent for the rest of the journey.

They clamber out of the car once they’re in the parking lot, both thanking Wayne profusely for driving them there and agreeing on a time he should pick them up again. They both stand together to wave him off, and once he’s out of eyesight, Nancy claps her hands together, bouncing as she spins to face Eddie, who presses his lips together. “S’pose I better go find Jeff, now.”

Nancy narrows her eyes. “Oh. I - Yeah, if you - aren’-?”

He shrugs, his voice almost monotonous, “It’s like you said, we’re all even now, right? Now you can just enjoy your prom, nothing else attached. I’ll still keep an eye out for Benson for you, but… Enjoy your prom, Wheeler.” Eddie nods one more time before walking off into the building, rendering Nancy glued to the spot, speechless. Sure, she’d been having fun putting shocked looks on her family’s faces, but Eddie was having fun with it, too, right? He’s always been a stick-it-to-em kinda guy, and he had his personal hang-up with Mike. Like, yeah, he plays pretend at D&D at least once a week, but was he really so good at it that he could switch up so quickly?

She eventually makes her own way into the hall, very quickly accosted by her group of girlfriends. “What gives, Nance?” Robin asks. “I thought you said you were coming with that Eddie guy, why’re you coming in separately?”

She explains everything that’s happened throughout the night, and is met by three identical looks of disbelief. “What?” she laughs.

“Oh, come on, I know you’re still hung up on… Whatshisface, and all, but… Isn’t it obvious?” Vickie asks, shaking her head.

“I’m guessing not!” Nancy starts to sound exasperated as she looks to her oldest and dearest friend.

“Nance…” Barb starts, softly. “Do you not think that maybe there was one more reason someone like Eddie Munson was willing to go to a school dance with you, specifically?”

“Yeah, like I said, he wanted to make his uncle happy, and I happened to be there, and -”

“Listen to me,” Robin holds Nancy’s shoulders. “The whole of band was buzzing because he even turned down Chrissy Cunningham when she asked him after she and that Jason douche broke up. And that was days before you called to say he’d asked you.”

Vickie gestures to Robin, following up with a, “Now, if he was just going to prom to stick it to the man while making his uncle happy, don’t you think it’d have been a bigger middle finger to everyone else for the outcast to take the head cheerleader?”

Nancy looks over at Eddie, who’s stood with Jeff and his date. Jeff’s clearly trying to get Eddie to keep engaging in conversation, but something about him isn’t as… Spirited. “Then why didn’t he just outright ask? Why wait for me to be the one to suggest it? Or, at least, I was about to, but then he beat me to it -”

“Didn’t you say he asked you about Jonathan?” Barb asks. “He probably just didn’t even think it was an option.”

Nancy sighs deeply. “I gotta fix this. But, then, how? Like, wha- If that’s how he feels, what am I supposed to do, only humour him until it’s time to go to Boston? Expect him to go long-distance, even though that’s the thing that ended my last relationship? I don’t -” She growls in frustration. “Why are men so…?” Another sigh.

The girls all hug her, which she finds great comfort in. After they all go and get themselves something to drink, Nancy starts formulating plans in her head. Halfway into the dance, Barb’s about to tell her that maybe she should just relax, forget about it and enjoy the night when she sees it. Her back straightens up. She starts mouthing silent words to herself, her eyes and nose moving with them. Her lips purse off to the side as she looks in the other direction, and her friends grin back at her. She looks over at them and, with a knowing smirk, clears her throat. “Excuse me, ladies.”

She weaves her way through the crowd until she finds Eddie, skulking in the shadows as Jeff and his date dance the night away. He raises his eyebrows at her, looks around, and then frowns in another direction. “Benson’s all the way over there, I didn’t see him come near you.”

“I know,” Nancy states, holding her hand out. “I’ve decided I want my picture back.”

He frowns, “The… One of you playi- Okay,” he shrugs, taking it out of his pocket and placing it in her palm. “That all?”

Nancy buries it in her bag, then throws her hands up in the air and tuts dramatically. “Tsch, now would you look at that? I guess I’m back to owing you.” Eddie’s eyes narrow as she holds her hand out again, this time chewing her lip before asking, “Care to join me for an apology dance?”

Eddie smiles back, a real, genuine smile, as he shakes his head in feigned resignation and takes her hand, allowing her to lead him to the dancefloor. As they sway together, neither of them especially knows how to start talking. Or maybe they don’t need to. Maybe just staying here, holding each other, is enough.

After a while, Jeff and his date join them. Quickly followed by Robin, Vickie and Barb. Not another word is uttered between Eddie and Nancy without it being a part of the group’s conversation, a topic of great frustration every time the girls convene in the bathroom - including Jeff’s date, who also seems to really be rooting for the pair. Even Chrissy, who wanders in during one bathroom break, immediately becomes invested in what becomes of the two of them. Nancy promises that by the end of the night, she’ll have at least started a conversation about it. Whatever Eddie decides to do is up to him. In the meantime, they all chat, sing, and dance the night away between them. By the end of the night, Nancy's cheeks ache from smiling so much.

It finally happens as they’re waiting for Wayne. All the others in their little party have been collected, leaving just the two of them. “Alright, alright, I guess I’ll admit,” Eddie starts, “prom was actually… A lot of fun.”

“You gonna tell Wayne that?” She asks with a knowing smirk.

“Absolutely not,” he laughs, and she does, too. “Don’t you dare tell him, I’ll deny everything.” Nancy draws a fake zipper across her lips, and Eddie nods at her in thanks. “Besides, I… Probably wouldn’t have had any actual fun if you hadn’t… Y’know. Done the whole thing and asked me to dance and whatever. So. Thanks. You didn’t have to.” He’s starting to go into his recluse again, which Nancy’s determined not to let happen.

“Sure I did, I owed you one, remember?” He waves her off, and she sighs. “Plus, I… I’m sorry… If you felt like I led you on.”

He inhales sharply. “All’s good, Elder Wheeler,” he lies. “I knew what was expected of me, we delivered on that, nothing more, right?”

“I don’t - see, that’s the -” Nancy sighs. “I’ve had, so much fun with you tonight. Like, the most fun I’ve had in months. But I didn’t want tonight to be just some rebound to get out of being single for a night, and I didn’t want to pursue anything before I left for Emerson because - well, because clearly distance is more of a dealbreaker for me than I thought, and that’s not fair on either of us, but I just… I just… Want to bottle up tonight. And just keep that, without all the other stuff to stress about.”

Eddie doesn’t speak for a few beats, but finally pipes up with a, “So, why stress about it?”

Nancy’s face scrunches up in bewilderment. “What?!”

“You heard. Stuff like this shouldn’t be stressful, it should be fun.” Eddie turns his whole body to face her.

“Right, and that’s what this was! It was so much fun, but there’s so much else at stake here, an-” Nancy’s interrupted by Eddie’s hands cupping her jaw and his lips pressing against hers. She pushes an indignant trill out from behind her lips as laughter bubbles from Eddie’s, breaking the kiss entirely. “Eddie! That’s - this isn’t right, it’s not fair to either one of us in the grand scheme of things -”

“So, who says we gotta think that broadly?” He asks. “Why can’t we just enjoy ourselves right now?”

“But you were so…” Nancy looks deflated, and Eddie snorts out a laugh.

“Yeah, I got real melodramatic, huh? But that was then, and this is now. And right now, Wheels, I really wanna kiss you again.”

“You can just call me Nancy, you know,” she muses, moving around to position herself better in front of him.

“I could, but where’s the fun in that?” He grins before bending down to kiss her again. And this time, right now feels like it’s happening at a snail’s pace as Eddie's arms snake around Nancy's body. Right now feels as though it could last an eternity as Nancy holds his face.

Until a car horn sounds, revealing a very smug-looking Wayne Munson beaming at them through the window. “I’ll just do an extra couple laps for you two lovebirds. Don’t mind me!”

#edancy #eddie munson x nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x eddie munson #eddie x nancy #nancy x eddie #*myfics #*2kcelebration

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